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My Domme woke me up this morning to a firm, hard, rough bite on the neck. A moan slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. Her perfume, the one used to condition me, drowning my senses, overloading them, melting my brain until I’m complete mush, a puddle, a pliant puppy.
Her pliant puppy.
Her conditioning worked flawlessly. One whiff and I’m nothing more than a drooling slut.
Then the biting. My god, the biting.
The marks are nice, red, deep. I still feel them on my shoulder. I still see them. The ache, reminding me who I belong to. Who owns me.
What a way to wake up this morning~
DM’s open to anyone who wants to chat :)
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- 3 weeks ago
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