The Switchy Witch

Yours

May 17th, 2012

“Open your eyes.”

She squeezes her eyes tightly closed, body stiff, mind whirling with thoughts.

“Open your eyes,” growled into her ear.

She sucks in a breath, resisting, she slowly opens her eyes. She swallows as she is confronted with her own naked form in the full length mirror. He stands still and tall behind her, a shadow looming as she stares. She blushes and makes a move to cover herself, to turn away.

He growls again, gripping her arms he slides his hands down to her wrists, forcing her to face front again, he holds her there. He presses himself against her backside, tilting his head he breathes into her ear.

“Do you see what I see?”

She shakes her head, cheeks flushing in shame as she is not proud of what she sees in the mirror. A single tear rolls down her cheek as she is confronted with her own embarrassment. She knows he knows what she thinks of herself. She knows he knows she is ever fearful he’ll leave.

He sighs softly. He meets her eyes in the mirror, stares into the dark depths. He then starts to whisper.

“I see beauty. I see intelligence. I see fun. I see vitality. I see lust. I see fierceness. I see hunger. I see you.”

Releasing her wrists, he softly draws his fingertips up her arms, whispering still.

“I see soft skin.”

His fingers trail across her collarbone, flitting across the tops of her breasts.

“I see strength.”

She whimpers softly, closing her eyes. He taps her on the shoulder.

“Keep them open, pet.”

She opens her eyes again, unable to resist even the slightest now. He kisses her on the shoulder and resumes his exploration. His hands wander down her front..across her stomach. She flinches away as always. He grips her tightly across her stomach. Holding her. Her tears flow freely. Her eyes drop to the grip he has on her. She whispers, “Please.”

He whispers back, “Please what? Please touch what is mine? Please hold what is mine? Please worship what is mine? Please show you what is mine?” His finger explore the soft flesh of her, possessively. She shivers.

“Pet,” said ever so patiently.

She looks up, eyes meeting his. She gasps softly. She sees the passion, the lust, the heat of his want of her. She feels his desire for her. His acceptance of all of her. She weeps for it.

He smiles at her, knowing she understands now. His hands roam her body freely now. She has no desire to hide. She watches in wonder. She smiles. She stretches into him.

He growls into her ear. “Mine.”

The Switchy Witch

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