[ Monika jerks back. Just when she thought the spank was the worst thing that could happen...
She blinks once. Twice. Reaches up and touches the spit running down the bridge of her nose, meandering along her cheek, pooling on her upper lip. His words press in, each one beyond insolent. And that stupid grin! Disappointing? She's disappointing? He should never treat her this way. He needs to fucking submit.
Her eyes turn back to his, widened with complete derangement this time. It's all bait, what he's doing, but she doesn't recognize it as such. No matter--it lights her fury into an inferno all the same. This has gone beyond something sexual. Now? It's personal.
His red, swollen cheek is splattered with his own spit when she smacks it again. And again. ]
Is this funny to you?
[ Her voice is piercing ice, clashing with the fire licking her skin. She slaps him again, as hard as she can, then switches to her other hand to equally attack his cheeks. She eventually loses count of how many times she strikes him.
It's not enough.
Body tense, every inch shaking, palms stinging, her thighs tighten around him, and her hands drop down to secure a crushing grip around his neck. There's no holding back with it. Her nails aim to pierce and scratch his skin, and she especially focuses on digging her thumb into the wound she left behind from her earlier bites. Seeing the faces of everyone that's ever wronged her projected onto his, she wants to harm him. As long as she doesn't stab him in the heart, everything goes, doesn't it~?
Monika shakes him by his neck, enough to lift his head off the blanket and slam it back down, before she leans in to hiss deadly words in a deadly low tone near his face. ]
Do anything like that again? I'll cut your fucking tongue out. [ Her thumb in particular pushes in hard enough to sink into a channel she's been stabbing into the deepest of his wounds, more thick blood oozing out. ] Are we clear, peasant~?
[ Can't have a Lord without a peasant to serve them, now can you? ]
he'll be fiiiine
She blinks once. Twice. Reaches up and touches the spit running down the bridge of her nose, meandering along her cheek, pooling on her upper lip. His words press in, each one beyond insolent. And that stupid grin! Disappointing? She's disappointing? He should never treat her this way. He needs to fucking submit.
Her eyes turn back to his, widened with complete derangement this time. It's all bait, what he's doing, but she doesn't recognize it as such. No matter--it lights her fury into an inferno all the same. This has gone beyond something sexual. Now? It's personal.
His red, swollen cheek is splattered with his own spit when she smacks it again. And again. ]
Is this funny to you?
[ Her voice is piercing ice, clashing with the fire licking her skin. She slaps him again, as hard as she can, then switches to her other hand to equally attack his cheeks. She eventually loses count of how many times she strikes him.
It's not enough.
Body tense, every inch shaking, palms stinging, her thighs tighten around him, and her hands drop down to secure a crushing grip around his neck. There's no holding back with it. Her nails aim to pierce and scratch his skin, and she especially focuses on digging her thumb into the wound she left behind from her earlier bites. Seeing the faces of everyone that's ever wronged her projected onto his, she wants to harm him. As long as she doesn't stab him in the heart, everything goes, doesn't it~?
Monika shakes him by his neck, enough to lift his head off the blanket and slam it back down, before she leans in to hiss deadly words in a deadly low tone near his face. ]
Do anything like that again? I'll cut your fucking tongue out. [ Her thumb in particular pushes in hard enough to sink into a channel she's been stabbing into the deepest of his wounds, more thick blood oozing out. ] Are we clear, peasant~?
[ Can't have a Lord without a peasant to serve them, now can you? ]