You Are Not Going Anywhere

Tonight, I am in that mood where I wonder if my intentions are just plain fucked up and wrong. Eh, table those thoughts for a moment.

I am going to make you cum — so fucking hard.

I am not even going to let myself get hard until we round number six in the orgasm department. Nah, fuck that. I can wait. My fucking ego is in need of some serious pats on the back, and I am going reward myself, in your beating red swollen orgasm-laden cunt that I wreck tonight.

Good luck getting up on time in the morning. It’s a “break out the wooden box” kinda night.

  • Hitachi — check.
  • Cuffs — check.
  • Anal vibe — check.
  • Blindfold — check.
  • Jelly dildo — check.
  • My oral fixation with your pussy? — Oh, fucking check.

I am going to tie you up. I am binding your legs to your thighs. I am pushing you down and eating your pussy so fucking well and hard you will hate what I am doing to you.

But you will beg me to never stop, because oh honey, I plan to stop, right in the middle. I will edge you right to the brink.

I will get up. I will walk slowly around the bed.

I will wait.

For the begging.

I know you want me to do something degrading because you cannot stop asking for it.

Well, Papa is in full swing. Two Old Fashioned’s deep, made heavy-handed of course, with Four Roses Single Batch, eyeing the third and the fourth and just waiting to laugh inside as I finger you until you fall on the ground.

Tick, tock, Kitten.

Tick, tock.


Originally published at The Romantic Dominant.