Corruption

I know I can't fuck you. It would be highly unethical, given our relative positions, our power dynamics. So no, I’m not going to fuck you.

But God almighty I want to.

I see you from across the room, the way your hair falls, and all I want is to tangle a hand in it and wrench your head up, hold you there with your lips an inch away from mine.

Have you ever had your hair pulled? I mean really pulled, pulled well, so that you forfeit all control of your head and neck and feel that delicious pain at your scalp that makes you gasp, that reminds you that you're at someone's mercy?

I want to show you that. I want to see your eyes go wide as you understand for the first time how this is supposed to feel, what power really is. I want to watch your lips part, hear the sound that escapes them, as you're overcome with my nearness and your need to kiss me. I want to feel you struggle against my hand in your hair, straining to bring your lips to mine, trembling with that need and your own powerlessness.