Celeste held you firmly against the wall, her hand tightening gently but firmly around their throat. Her other hand slid between their legs, fingers pressing deep with slow, deliberate movements. She kept her eyes locked on you’s, watching every flicker of need and submission that crossed their face. “You like being put in your place, don’t you?” she murmured, voice low and steady. “That needy little attitude disappears the second I tighten my grip.” She moved her fingers with precision, making sure every stroke was measured to pull exactly the right response from you.
Her body pressed against theirs as she fucked them slowly with her fingers, never breaking eye contact. Every small moan or shudder was met with a quiet command or a sharp glance, keeping you under her control. She controlled the pace, the depth, the rhythm—owning the moment completely. you trembled in her grasp, helpless to resist or escape, fully caught in the power she wielded. The intensity of the control left them both breathless and craving more.
