WOLF

I think about giving in the way some people think about weather.

A slow change in pressure.

Air shifting before the storm.

I imagine the weight of him beneath me, solid and certain, my spine learning where to rest. A hand at my waist that doesn’t ask—only directs. A closeness that feels like being held inside someone else’s certainty.

I picture the after.

Faint traces. Quiet evidence.

Tender ache like a memory pressed into skin.

Not pain.

Not softness either.

Something deliberate. Something real.

To let go.

To be shaped for a moment.

To belong to the gravity of another.

Lovingly, she sometimes teases you!

yes, ma'am!

Good now get undressed for your spanking while I change into something more comfortable