Spent my Saturday evening doing what I do best: absolutely annihilating the competition in Tekken. By which I mean, I lost ten straight matches, ordered a pizza in defeat, and ended up eating it in my cosplay room while listening to Travis Scott. Peak adulting.
But it got me thinking about losing control in other ways. Not just in games. Like the way my body completely betrays me sometimes. I can negotiate a million-dollar deal without blinking, but the memory of a certain someone’s mouth on my cunt can make my knees weak hours later. The specific, filthy way he tells me to spread my legs for him while his fingers are already inside me… it makes me so wet I can feel it soaking through my panties. It’s humiliating and exhilarating. That’s the kind of loss of control I secretly crave—where I’m not the boss, I’m just his.
Maybe I should challenge him to a Tekken match. Loser has to obey the winner’s every command for a night. We all know how that would end. I’d lose on purpose.
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