Trinity 1-844-332-2639 ext 285
Drinking on control was the game. The forbidden cocktail of power and pleasure. It started with a clink of ice in a glass—innocent enough. Sweet. Fizzy. Just a little too pink. But tonight wasn’t about innocence. He told me to drink. I didn’t ask what was in it. That was the game. Consent whispered in the background of every command, every glance, every touch. I had agreed long before the first sip. The rules were known. The limits were drawn. Safe words tucked neatly behind my teeth, just in case.
The liquid slid down my throat like silk, warmth blooming in my chest. One drink became two. My cheeks flushed. Body loosened up. Thoughts, always so sharp and defiant, started to melt into something… pliable. He watched. Always watching. “You’re feeling it now, aren’t you?” he asked, fingers curling around my jaw. I nodded, unable to lie. My body was betraying me—in the most delicious way. Every sensation was amplified. Every word he spoke sent shivers across my skin.
He made me stand. Made me bend. Made me stay. The room spun slowly, like a carousel of lust. His voice was the only anchor I had, commanding and calm, telling
