[F4M] Your Territory [fsub] [mark me] [make me yours] [deepthroat] [rough sex] [spanking] [reflective] [fantasy]

~1200 words

[I imagined this fantasy/desire/memory being recounted in a dreamlike, sensual, reflective tone, but ABSOLUTELY let your own reading take precedence. If you want to perform this as a ravenous, animalistic roar of lust... well, I can't wait to hear it.]

******

When you get here tonight, you’re going to make marks on me. Marks, plural. You’re going to stain me, and I’m not talking about my soul. I’m talking about a brand – a claim of ownership, etched into my skin. Some women get necklaces, or expensive rings. Some men just wrap an arm around her shoulders, and that’s enough. But you and I?

I want you to take me, here tonight. I want you to take my body... and make it yours.

<detached> I have a pleasant dinner with my friends at 7, and then I’ll come home. I’ll take off my dress, unstrap my heels, then my bra. Just my lace panties left around my body, but before I can slip them down I’ll hear you shifting in the doorway.

I’m picturing that moment, and in that moment I don’t know how long you’ve been there, just watching my curves slowly being stripped bare. I leave the door open for you, and you walk in like you own the place.

Maybe you do. I’m not sure I could ever refuse you much, even if I wanted to.

But there’s only one thing in this room you’re interested in taking.

No words between us, not tonight. Our lips and tongues will be otherwise engaged.

[deep sigh]

Our bodies embrace, my soft form folding into your tall, hard one. I could stretch up to kiss you like this all night, but you’re taking a lot more than my mouth from me. You pull away too soon, grab my hair just a little too roughly to keep my lips from chasing after yours.

Little kisses down my cheek, moving up so your hot breath tickles my ear, then down my bared neck. You reach my shoulder, and it’s here that I receive my first mark: a set of your teethmarks around my collarbone, where the soft kisses turned sharp and feral. Biting and sucking like I’m prey.

*Your* prey.

And I moan.

Your hands are all over me, I’m practically rubbing myself against your fully clothed body, but you’re not so merciful as to satisfy me. You push me away and tell me to present myself for you. [some sort of noise – a sigh, a moan, something intermediary]

So I lay myself out like an offering. Head down, elbows on the bed, holding my ass up into the air towards you.

You watch for what feels like hours, then you speak for the first time.

“You’re wet,” you say, “you little slut.”

I am, a faint damp line down the centre of my panties. You trace it with your finger from bottom to top... [deep breath] then you hook that finger in lace and drag down, exposing my pussy to you. Ready. Glistening. *Aching* to feel you.

[frustration]

I feel you, but just one finger again – just brushing between my pussy lips, tracing out my wetness, circling my clit. I can’t see anything with my head down like this, but I can feel your hot breath on my cunt and I cry out for your tongue... Please, please sir. Let me feel you.

Your belt unclasps, and I dare to hope; then I realize you’re folding the leather in your hand. “Ask me again,” you say, “each strike.”

You’re marking me again, and this time it will really hurt.

[grunt of ‘phantom’ pain at the fantasized impacts]

I’m so open at this point in the fantasy, so helpless. On my elbows, I can’t even see you, can’t do anything but keep my buttocks raised as easy targets for you. One, please sir. Two, please sir. By ‘four, please sir’ I’m moaning, my knees wriggling, my ass smarting. By ‘six’ I think I’m going to cry. The hiss-crack of your belt stops after seven. You make me wait for the final blows, actually make me beg for them.

‘Please, sir. Please spank my ass.’

You ask me, “why?”

Because I want you to mark me, sir. I want your brand across my ass.

“Bite down on these, slut,” you say, and you hand me my own panties. They’re filthy with my bitter juices, but I open my mouth and let you stuff them inside.

I scream into my soaked panties as you deliver the last three blows – quickly but furiously, like you’re trying to break skin. Maybe you do – making sure your brand lasts, making sure I grimace and think of you every time I sit down for *days*.

Finally, after all that, your fingers brush my pussy. “You’ve soaked yourself, slut,” you say softly. Teasing my clit. Leaning forward to kiss up along my spine.

[GIRL NOISE]

And... and here you change my position again, and there’s no pain this time – but neither do I get what I so desperately want. You take what you want from me, as you always have, and the only words I can say when you pull down my panties are... “please, sir.”

Please, sir, give me your cock.

I’m on my back, my head dangling off the edge of the bed, when your cock presses against my eager lips. All I can see are your legs and your fat, swinging balls, but I can taste your precum on my tongue, and that’s all that matters.

<dispassionate> This is when you start to throatfuck me.

Not a blowjob, because this isn’t me pleasuring you. No, you are using me like a toy, fucking my mouth like it’s a nothing but a conveniently warm hole. I struggle to relax, to take your thick cockhead into my throat without gagging. But it doesn’t matter if I cough or splutter, or if tears well in my eyes and my makeup runs down my cheeks, mixing with my spit.

Just more marks.

Another sign of your passage.

Then it’s finally time. When your cock is fully hard and I can’t fit it in my throat any longer, no matter how much I cough. You help me up by the hair – such a gentleman – and throw me onto my back.

You call me a whore, and you ask me what I want.

I spread my legs.

<reflective> I come three times before you finally empty yourself inside me. The first time just from you fucking me like you’re trying to break me. The second time when you lowered your hips to hit my g-spot better, holding my thighs up against your shoulders and digging in with your fingertips. Nails scratching, right on the edge of drawing blood, more marks.

Hurt me, sir. Please. Mark me as yours.

[if you plan on making any sexy noises, now is the time to start]

I’m building to my third climax when you come inside me. I can feel you twitching and shaking in my cunt, you stop thrusting and I moan in frustration, but you reach down and pinch my clit so fucking hard it hurts... and as it hurts I come.

See, you do care about my pleasure, in the end.

[long pause]

When I wake the next morning you’ll be gone, as always. But there’s one more mark you’ve left me. Your cum staining me, your signature scrawled across my thighs. Dripping out of me through the night and the smell staying with me for hours more.

Claiming me.

Branding me.