Submissive sex turns me into this needy, dripping mess the second I’m on my knees. My thighs are spread because you told me to, my pussy already wet and aching even though you haven’t touched me yet. I can feel how exposed I am, how easy it would be for you to take whatever you want from me.
“Knees wider.”
“Yes, Master… like this?” I push them open more, my breath shaky. I want you to see everything, want you to know how bad I need your attention.
“Hands behind your back.”
I lace my fingers together and pull my shoulders back, my chest out, my body offered. It makes me feel helpless in the hottest way, like I don’t get to protect myself from what you’re about to do to me.
“Don’t touch.”
“I won’t… even though I want to so badly.” My pussy throbs, slick and swollen, and I whine quietly because holding still is torture. I love it.
“Quiet.”
I bite my lip, swallowing the sounds, my hips twitching even though I know I shouldn’t move. Every second you deny me makes me wetter, more desperate.
“Look down.”
“Yes.” I stare at the floor, my face burning, my body on display while my mind fills with filthy thoughts about pleasing you, about being used exactly the way you want.
“Stay open.”
“I am. I promise. I’ll stay open for you as long as you want.” My thighs shake, my cunt pulsing, begging without permission.
“Hold it.”
“I’m holding it… every moan, every urge.” I feel sloppy and needy, like all I am is a body waiting to be told what to do with itself.
“Beg.”
“Please… I need you to touch me. I need your hands, your control, your permission. I’ll do anything you want, exactly how you want it.”
“Wait.”
“I’ll wait.” My voice is wrecked, my body burning, my mind blank except for you. I stay right where you left me… wet, open, aching… knowing the longer you make me wait, the harder I’ll fall apart when you finally decide I’ve earned it.
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