Domestic Bliss...
Yep, I had a thought. This is the result. Is made up, ergo not real. This is for Laeb 'cos I love her...
You are standing at the ironing board.
Ironing a sheet. A sheet that doesn't need it. But if you stop, if you pause, then he will do the same.
You are allowed to make a noise which is lucky as the litany of whimpers and moans are getting louder. Your body is tense, pleasure and pain are duelling and right now the latter is winning.
With Machiavellian inventiveness, he plays your body like an instrument; he has promised you a treat, something he knows you've yearned for if you're good. You want to be good, you need to be good, and you will be good. If you please him, he has promised to cut you. And you want those marks really badly.
So you continue to whimper and moan, bent over the ironing board.
You are standing at the ironing board.
Ironing a sheet. A sheet that doesn't need it. But if you stop, if you pause, then he will do the same.
You are allowed to make a noise which is lucky as the litany of whimpers and moans are getting louder. Your body is tense, pleasure and pain are duelling and right now the latter is winning.
With Machiavellian inventiveness, he plays your body like an instrument; he has promised you a treat, something he knows you've yearned for if you're good. You want to be good, you need to be good, and you will be good. If you please him, he has promised to cut you. And you want those marks really badly.
So you continue to whimper and moan, bent over the ironing board.