She stood in the courtyard in the heels as instructed. I sat, sipping scotch. There were tarps cover
She stood in the courtyard in the heels as instructed. I sat, sipping scotch. There were tarps covering construction. Enough to keep it semi private, but not enough to feel safe. She stood awkwardly. Self conscious. This wouldn’t do. Before she could give possession of her body to me, she would have to own it first. “Run a finger along the side of your body, starting at your hip and wind it up to the edge of your breast.” It took her a moment. The blood rushing to her cunt and cheeks simultaneously caused a visible hitch. Then her finger moved. From her hip bone, which my hand would one day use as a handle, to her side. Hands would fall their as well. To move her, sometimes violently, if she tried to hold on to what we both know already belongs to me. As she neared her breast I could see her breath shortening. The act of standing naked and following directions. One twisting her body, the other twisting her mind. She could feel my gaze following her finger. It arched her back and tilted her head. Lifting her busy mind away from what her body desires. From what didn’t make sense yet. This was no concern to me. My cock could still those thoughts easily enough. But I want more than a still mind. I want ownership. Handed over to me when she can barely speak. “Now, slowly bring your finger up and circle it around your nipple without touching it, until it’s as hard as my cock.” Again the hitch. Her left hand sliding down her stomach. Without instruction. Excellent instinct but she hadn’t been given permission. “Did I say you could touch your cunt?” Just her head, shaking no. “I can’t hear you.” The way her voice shook on just one syllable. “You can leave it there.” A smile. Thinking it was a reprieve. It was not. “This way, when you’re nearly ready to break on nothing more than the idea of my fingers replacing yours on that aching nipple, your other hand will be still. Resting between your legs. I want you to feel your heart beating in that unruly little cunt. The one that moved your hand without permission. The one that’s never been tamed and never been freed. The one I’m going to twist into knots until it cries for me.” There’s the moan I was looking for. The recognition. “Now, those circles around your nipple I asked for. Keep your fingers from blocking the strands I’m going to watch you paint yourself with.” -- source link