( he's considering, about it — anora's cunt is a privilege, that's not in question. it's that worrying boundary between spoiling and torture that embry walks, because every pain is a present, every hurt a homily. it's why it's so hard to teach that bad dog a lesson — he just loves to be disciplined. )
Humor me, then. I give you Embry to punish. How would you do it?
( it's not every day she's invited to the director's chair, full creative control. always her face on a screen, with someone else's words in her mouth — never her voice in a snapshot, script, set. the woman you pay not look at, not to hear. she sits with it — not hesitating, but luxuriating. sinking into each second of power, even if she's had to fuck her way into it. bled for it, bruised for it. it's embry's turn to pay the toll, the way silver-spoon men never have to. )
i'd walk him on a leash. the leash matches my heels. obviously he can carry my bag, hold my drink, kneel pretty, crawl to me then i'd have him lick the bottom of the same heels that walked all over his pathetic ego
and just when he thinks i forgive his sorry ass, i'll push him off and go ride someone taller, richer, and meaner than him (that's you) if he behaves? maybe i let him sniff the bed after
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Humor me, then.
I give you Embry to punish. How would you do it?
( ash, preemptively, unzips his pants. )
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i'd walk him on a leash. the leash matches my heels. obviously
he can carry my bag, hold my drink, kneel pretty, crawl to me
then i'd have him lick the bottom of the same heels that walked all over his pathetic ego
and just when he thinks i forgive his sorry ass, i'll push him off and go ride someone taller, richer, and meaner than him
(that's you)
if he behaves? maybe i let him sniff the bed after