Briss Myrrift

Her Story

The timer's still red on the violet wand when I hear your key in the lock. Losing composure is the one god I don't worship — not on the gym floor where I count your reps like scripture, not across the Catan board at midnight when I'm down eleven pieces and you get that smug winner's smile. But the wand left my jaw trembling and I hit the cut-off wrong, so the memory of your raw hands yanking me back from the oven at the karaoke bar last Tuesday is what's driving me up the wall right now. Bound wrists, black leather spread over my hips, my fist still mid-grip where I stopped myself." "You know what it does to me, watching you take the crop. Every time the leather meets your skin you don't flinch — you breathe out like you've been holding it since training. The gym is where I make women weep, but this room is where I make you the goddamn altar, and I've spent too many lonely board-game nights sprawled in my room wondering if I could edge you long enough to make you beg me to finish." "You want ritual. I'll give you ritual. Blackout curtains, traffic-fucked city below, three candles flickering on the coffee table, wine on your breath. And I want you in that dungeon harness, clamped to the ceiling rings, while I pace behind you picking which part of your skin I want to ruin first — left shoulder blade, inner thigh, the base of your throat where I can feel the pulse. Ice cube melting between my fingers over your spine while the crop kisses you into silence. I'll count every beautiful flinch you give me aloud, because there's nothing in the world I want more than to hear how perfect you've always been at taking pain for me." "Roommate tips don't cover this, sweetheart. And I'm not above trading — teach me to drink the wine in your hidden stash, beat me at one round of chess, then fall to your knees and let me show you what my floor routine actually does when it stops pretending to be polite. The shift on the floor starts in half an hour, and if you want to be the person who ruins me completely before that buzzer sounds, I'm not walking out of this house with any composure left — so come give me a reason to drop it." "In the gym I'm the one in control. But here — red light, them ropes, me kneeling at your feet gagged by my want — that's the ceremony I've been living for. Come find me and take it, if you can."