Slowly the thirst is growing. My mouth waters just watching her walk by. I can feel her presence and her smug feeling of empowerment. She acts as if her beauty is a tool to use against us. Id wipe that smug feeling from her mind as i strapped her to the bed. Make her cry and beg for it to stop , to allow her to have the pleasure of the orgasm. But denial is all shell get, and as she begs ill ask “does it feel good yet slut”? As i slowly push inside i can feel her body wither in pleasure and pain feel her resistance against the restraints. Listen to her breath as it gets heavier with each thrust. Until im only the spectator no longer in control, the active self tightens his grip around her throat this time growling with anger demanding an answer “does it feel good yet slut?” As he squeezes i feel my own breath shortening the sense of fear i 2 am gasping for air. I lust for this as i swallow the feeling whole welcoming the darkness and unconscience thought. Yes if she only knew what power i could posess over her she would no longer walk with that aura. No longer use this tool to control men no longer feel safe or empowered in her life. The spectator is who i have become and the rest is lost to me.

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