She doesn't ask, she takes. His body is a plaything, stripped of control, stripped of voice, stripped of will, stripped of ego, stripped of pride and stripped of resistance. She watches him fall apart, not out of care, but out of power, and it turns her on. He reacts, he breathes, he moves, he begs, only when she allows it. That's the rule, and that's the real trill for her. She doesn't chase responses. She commands them, and he delivers without questions. This isn’t love, this is ownership. And, he obeys her because it turns her on. And he knows, the more he obeys, the more she owns, and he loves it.
