Submission: Body High - Control Lost (L)

The scent of citrus cleaner mingled with the lingering musk of arousal as I stirred, my mind already replaying the previous night’s intense session. Cindy’s voice, husky with pleasure, drifted through the quiet house, a welcome balm to my own lingering heat. “Last night was so hot, I’m glad you finally took me there,” she murmured, her words laced with a desperate yearning that mirrored my own.

“Training isn’t done, babe,” I replied, pulling the covers back just enough to expose my chest, my eyes still closed, savoring the memory of her skin against mine. The shiver that ran through her was a tangible invitation, a silent plea for more. “Are you game to give up control of your body for the next few days? I take you anytime, anywhere.” The thought, once shocking, now felt like a delicious possession, a claim over her entirely.

She leaned in, her lips brushing my cheek, a small, hesitant smile playing on her lips. “Don’t let me say no.” The vulnerability in that simple phrase was intoxicating.

The first lesson, as always, was about surrendering completely. Cindy was at the kitchen sink, scrubbing furiously at a stubborn stain on a ceramic plate, her movements betraying the turmoil within. The groceries, the errands, the mundane tasks of daily life – they were all irrelevant now, eclipsed by the primal need consuming her. She was distracted, lost in the throes of anticipation, oblivious to my approach.

I stalked up behind her, a predator sensing his prey, the scent of her arousal thick in the air. I grabbed a fistful of her dark hair, pulling her forcefully against my chest, my grip firm but not cruel. “Spread your legs,” I commanded, my voice low and insistent. There was no room for hesitation, no room for doubt. This was about control, about ownership.

She hesitated for a fleeting moment, her breath catching in her throat, before submitting to my will. Her knees buckled slightly as she obeyed, her body relaxing into my embrace, trusting me implicitly. The trust was a weapon, a delicious vulnerability she willingly offered.

Good. She was learning. The rhythm of her breathing deepened, her heart pounding a frantic tattoo against my hand as she fully yielded.

The second lesson was about embracing the wetness, the messy, undeniable truth of her pleasure. I yanked her pajama shorts down to her ankles, exposing her pale, glistening pussy to the cool air of the kitchen. The sight, once a little shocking, now filled me with a primal satisfaction.

With a swift, decisive movement, I wet two fingers with my own saliva, the salty taste a promise of what was to come. Then, without warning, I slid them into her, my touch both gentle and possessive. The sensation of her skin against my flesh was exquisite, a slow, building crescendo of anticipation.

As I curled my fingers around her sensitive shaft, grinding into the depths of her body, her thighs began to shake uncontrollably. She whimpered softly, a tiny, desperate sound that sent shivers down my spine.

“You hear that, baby?” I whispered, my voice low and seductive. “That’s the sound of your body giving up for me.” Her attempt to pull away was weak, fueled by fear and desire.

I shoved her harder into the sink, pinning her against the cold porcelain, denying her any chance of escape. “No running. You take it.” My grip tightened, a silent assertion of my dominance.

The third lesson was about releasing the flood, allowing her body to completely surrender to the pleasure. I recognized the signs instantly – the frantic shivers, the clenched muscles, the desperate little noises of pleasure. “Let it go, Cin. Squirt for me. Right fucking now.” Her body seized, then, with a sudden explosion of sensation, the first hot gush erupted from her, soaking my hand, splattering the floor, dripping down her thighs.

It was magnificent, a torrent of raw, uninhibited pleasure. I laughed, a low, dark sound of pure satisfaction, because God, she was perfect like this, completely vulnerable and utterly consumed by her own desires.

Her body jerked violently, her knees giving way beneath her as she arched her back in response to the intense pleasure. Her voice, ragged and raw, tore through the silence as she sobbed my name, begging for more.

The aftermath was a messy, glorious celebration of our shared pleasure. I dragged her down to her knees in the puddle she had created, a testament to her complete surrender. I tangled my fingers in her wet hair, tilting her face up to meet my gaze. “Look what you did, Cin. Look how perfect you are for me.”

My filthy little wife, soaked and broken and perfect, a masterpiece born of passion and domination.

With a swift movement, I shoved two fingers into her mouth, slick with her own flood, and she instinctively licked them clean, her desperate need for connection overriding any sense of shame. Good girl. She reached out with her hand, her fingers grasping at my cock, but I moved my body aside, bending over to kiss her forehead, savoring the lingering scent of her arousal. The world narrowed to just us, two bodies intertwined in a symphony of pleasure and submission. The rain began to fall outside, drumming a steady rhythm against the windows, a fitting soundtrack to our intimate dance. The night stretched before us, filled with endless possibilities, a promise of more intense encounters, more moments of exquisite surrender. And as I looked into her eyes, filled with both pleasure and desire, I knew that this was only the beginning. The training had just begun, and I was determined to push her to the very edge of her pleasure, to claim her entirely, body and soul. The power in this moment, this complete control, was intoxicating. My touch, my voice, my very presence – they were all weapons in this game of domination, and I intended to wield them with ruthless efficiency. She was mine, and I would savor every moment of our shared transgression. The scent of citrus cleaner still hung in the air, a lingering reminder of our shared intimacy, but now it was intertwined with the primal scent of arousal, a potent symbol of our twisted pleasure. The world outside could wait. Tonight, we were lost in the depths of our own desires, lost in the exquisite agony and ecstasy of submission and domination.

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