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I chew on my bottom lip and adjust the black dress you picked out for me to wear as I prepare to enter the Lion's den. My heart hammers against my chest in a symphony of emotions as I wave the plastic card in front of the key reader. The green light flashes, I turn the knob, and step into the dark space. My breath gets caught in my throat and I jump in fear when the door latches closed behind me.
You left the curtains open, and I'm thankful for the hint of moonlight that shines through. It doesn't help me see much, but it's something. You gave me specific orders to not turn the lights on or there would be intense consequences.
I scan the room and find you nowhere but feel you everywhere. You're watching me like a predator does its prey. Stalking my every move before you initiate your attack. Down to my quick breathing causing my breast to rise and fall. I'm hyperaware of my nipples straining against the fabric of the dress that suddenly feels too hot on my body.
Your stare feels like feathers running over the gyri of my brain and I shiver like a ghost moved through me. The fear makes my cunt weep for you. A ferocious need to finally be used by you until I'm broken urges me further into the room.
You call this a game of cat and mouse, but you are no simple cat sir.
You're a Lion.
And I can't wait to make you roar.
I walk further into the suite and find a kitchen area to the right of me. Moonlight doesn't grace the room with its presence so it's impossible to see. It could be you or the fridge I'm staring at, but that would be too obvious of a spot. You're smarter than that.
Or that's exactly what you want me to count on.
You once told me Sadist don't only find pleasure in physical discomfort. Emotional and mental vexations are just as effective. I hope you bask in your first victory; because my emotions and thoughts have successfully betrayed me and escaped my control faster than I counted on.
You can be anywhere.
I take notice of the furniture pushed to the side, and the open space you've created. The couch is covered in a sheet and various toys, ropes, and other intimidating things rest on the white linen. My shaky fingers trace the polished wooden handle of a sheathed blade that rests next to a ball gag. A consuming need to have it traced over my skin attempts to distract me as my wetness pools at my center at the twisted thought. I'm like an addict craving to wear your marks like an oath.
Movement from the bedroom doorway catches my attention, but there is nothing there when I look up. Just an illusion. At least that's the false hope I clutch onto that quickly falls through my fingers like sand.
Something whips the air behind me and I brace myself for an impact that doesn't come, you're quite the master of mind games.
Without a second thought I put every effort into running and putting distance between us but it's a failed attempt when something strikes my ass. A stinging pain explodes over my flesh that causes my knees to buckle and an involuntary sob to escape my lips.
You reach for the white hand towel that lies folded on the arm of the couch as I stand and try to make another escape. Panic slithers in and I become paralyzed by its venom when you wrap the towel around my neck. On instinct I begin to claw at it to loosen the grip, but you use it to effortlessly pull me against you.
I feel your breath in my ear and an audible inhale as you breathe me in like a savage animal that finally caught a meal after days of hunger. "This is where the cat catches the mouse." You speak in a rough whisper that makes my body hum for you like a needy whore.
My breath breaks when your tongue licks up my cheek collecting the tears that fall for you. "Scared little one?" You chuckle and I should be terrified of your unleashed monster, but I find myself only wanting to be consumed by it.
You discard the towel you had against my throat and replace it with your hand. There's no pressure applied because you know it isn't needed.
Your cock presses against my back and I remain frozen in place. My chest rising and falling against your forearm that could crush my chest bone at any second. A reminder that I'm fragile against you. Weak.
"I asked you a question, and I expect you to answer it, or you will be punished." You tighten your massive hand that swallows my delicate neck and repeat. "Are you scared?"
My smile is villainous when you make your way in front of me. The moonlight illuminates your flexed radius as you keep your arm up and extended as I wear you like a collar. "Terrified Sir." I whisper attempting to fixate on the pleasure that crashes in as fear.
Your eyes capture mine. The color is lost behind your dilated pupils like you just took a hit of lust. You rush me until my back collides with one of the large windows behind us. The impact isn't gentle. With your thumb on one cheek and remaining fingers on the other you squeeze until my mouth opens in an uneven O. You spit into it and claim my lips. Your hand that doesn't have my face entrapped forces the dress up my shaky thighs. I hiss as your nails scrape into my flesh along the journey.
Your hand finds me bare and I grin against your lips at your obvious grunt of gratification. You swallow my whimpers as your fingers dance over my clit before dipping into my wetness. "So fucking wet for me." You growl. My moans serenade the room and stars litter my vision when you finally thrust your fingers into me. "Who do you belong to?"