Dom and Sub: The contract

"Mine." He tugs at the curly hair around my pussy lips, tightening his grip. His wolf eyes hold my gaze, intent, probing. "Mine."

He tugs harder and I feel the hairs stretch in his grip.

"Yes," I answer him. "It's yours, I give it to you."

Later, his mouth is on my breast, teeth gazing the nipple. "Mine."

I lean my head back, nestled in his arms. "Yes, they're yours."

We touch and murmur through the night, my mouth closing tight on his straining cock, his hands shoved inside me until I am wet beyond belief.

"I want to be your slut," I murmur. "I want to give myself to you. I want to feel owned and possessed."

"I want to use you," he says. "I see you naked, in a collar, an equal, but also my slave...."

"Slut," I correct, nestling closer. "I would like to belong to you, to feel possessed, in in time, I will want to call you Master."

We hold together, entwined in the big soft bed, talking of the present and the future about to happen.

It's a contract of sorts, a set of wishes and promises between two seeking people, a Dom looking for a women to possess and a submissive looking for a Master.

As we touch and murmur, my heart starts to race and I see once again how much yearning I have, how eager and hungry I am to give myself over, how much I want to see if this man can be the one.