In latex and command, I shine like sin—every drop of gloss glistens with dominance and obedience. As I stride into the dimly lit dungeon, the air itself seems to quiver with anticipation. My blonde ponytail bounces with each measured step, and the gleam of red lipstick on my lips promises a night of unbridled pleasure and pain.
My latex catsuit clings to my curves like a second skin, every flex and movement accentuating my power over this helpless submissive. With a flick of my wrist, I command him to his knees, and he scurries to obey, his submissive gaze fixated on my every melodious instruction.
I lavish him with attention, rough fingers digging into his flesh as I paint his lips with a matching crimson kiss. “Worship,” I command, and he devours my cleavage with fervor, his tongue a hot brand against the latex barrier. I guide his mouth lower, to the garter belt cinched tight around my sex, and he latches on eagerly, sucking and licking with desperate obedience.
But soon, I tire of his reverence. Spitting out the garter, I level him with a stern glare. “On your back, pet.” He scrambles to comply, and I straddle him, my latex-clad thighs caging him in. “Now, crawl closer and let my shine be the last thing you ever worship.” With a swift tug on his hair, I wrench his face into the nook of my chest, and collapse atop him, my glossy lips whispering dark promises in his ear.