It was supposed to be one of the best nights of your life. It was your birthday, after all, as well as the first night you’ve been out since you’ve been single.
And like any good night out, you find yourself with a guy, dancing, making out. He moans into you, in front of everyone…
You feel something solid go down your throat.
You wake up, tied to my bed. No worse for the wear, except your body feels noticeably played with. Your nipples are wet and achingly hard, your neck covered in hickies.
But this wasnt me entering you long enough to get off and throwing you out. I’d tell you you’d been drugged. That’s why you were soaking wet and extremely sensitive. And it was only going to get worse as I teased you. But I wasnt going to fuck you until you beg for it.
I wonder how long that would take? How long until your legs are locking me inside you. How long until you’re screaming underneath me as you cum. How long until you forget the painfully obvious fact that we’re unprotected.
After all, it’s not like you enjoy it, right? It’s not your fault I drugged you. You’ll just call the cops tomorrow.
But when tomorrow comes and you’re feeling so achingly empty? I wonder if you’ll ever figure out I just forced a sugar tablet into your mouth. You got that wet for me all on your own. You were shaking like that at the end of the night purely from exhaustion, not withdrawal.
And you coming back to me is entirely of your own free will, isnt that right kitten?
💜💜💜