- back
Whisper fell asleep last night fixating on the image of her laying over for me, of me smacking her ass, and of me calling her my bitch.
I don't know what to think, really, but I remember nodding some sort of affirmation at that last part.
In the past our scenarios have mostly had her coming after me - her hunting me, her pinning me, her over me and inside me. I don't strike myself as domme-inclined, contrary whatever image I'm sure the masses make of Lanolin-the-character.
But something still felt liberating, about that.
About calling her my bitch.