It started with a mistake. A styling disaster. One of those fashion week emergencies where everything is falling apart, and no one seems to know what theyโre doing.
But you walked inโcalm, observant, trying to help.
You were supposed to be a professional, part of the team.
And I was just the model they nearly ruined.
Except Iโm not just anything.
You sat across from me backstage, and I could see it in your eyes:
You were too focused. Too silent. Too easy to lead.
So I leaned in. Just enough.
Let my lipstick catch the light.
And with a quiet whisper, I told you to follow itโฆ
To watch it moveโฆ
And let your thoughts fall quiet.
One kiss. Then another.
Until your mind softened beneath the pressure of beauty and power.
Until I didnโt need to raise my voice to have you completely.
This roleplay unfolds in a world of soft lighting, crimson lips, and whispered commandsโwhere the authority doesnโt come from shoutingโฆ but from knowing youโll obey.
Not because you have to.
But because the moment I started speakingโฆ you knew you were already mine.
Gwydre
2025-06-22 13:18:20 +0000 UTC