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“Oh, Marionette! Your fingers work my body like a puppet,” Platinum Panther gasped out between moans of pleasure. “I move how you want. I fuck how you want. I say what you want.”
She only controls my body, not my mind, the captive superheroine thought.
“You heroines have been so resistant to my affections, Platinum Panther,” hissed Marionette. “You’re just telling me what I want to hear. It’s time that you tell yourself.”
“Yes, Marionette!” Platinum Panther said eagerly. “I’ll tell myself how much I–”
The heroine’s parroted words were cut short as the villainess’s other hand slid over her mouth. Unable to speak Marionette’s words aloud, Platinum Panther found them echoing in the only place they could go: Inside her own head.
I’ll tell myself how much I love being controlled by you, Marionette. Her body writhed in pleasure at the thought. I’ll tell myself how good it feels to serve you, Marionette. She tried to focus her willpower, but there was no space between the words she had to say, had to think, had to be.
I’ll tell myself that I belong to you, now and forever, Marionette. Platinum Panther shook with waves of orgasmic submission, body and soul.
Like what you read? Will you buy me a coffee and suggest something rich to sink my teeth into? Or peer into the depths of my longer fiction?