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Stelle is a strong-willed individual. Everyone knows it. Her fire can’t easily be quelled, and she holds tight to her independence.
But everyone has their vices.
Stelle’s just so happens to be Kafka, the intergalactic terrorist and source of her amnesia. Kafka, who can control anyone with a simple word, who brings the unkillable to heel, who knows Stelle’s fate yet holds it close to her chest… that Kafka. Stelle hates the pull she feels, but ultimately can never resist when Kafka calls.
Everything that makes Stelle Stelle vanishes when she’s with Kafka. Her independence melts into obedience, her attitude giving way to an urge to please, her will shattering like glass. She becomes wholly dependent on Kafka and her approval — something that Kafka gives to her in spades.
Even now, Stelle can only make muffled sounds of bliss as she eagerly eats Kafka out. She can feel Kafka’s Domination weighing on her, but she doesn’t really need it to do this. She’s happy as-is — Kafka just likes using the ability.
“Good puppy,” Kafka murmurs breathlessly. “Keep going — you’re getting so much better at this.”
Stelle keens, feeling another thrill of arousal rush through her, but she hasn’t been given permission to touch herself yet. She settles for pressing her thighs together, though it does nothing to alleviate the ache. She whimpers again, but Kafka’s not feeling very kind.
“I haven’t come yet,” Kafka reminds her. “Me first. Then we’ll work on you, alright?”
The mere thought is enough to send Stelle further down her spiral of need, but she pulls away just enough to nod before returning to where her tongue was busy between Kafka’s legs. Kafka giggles at the easy acceptance.
“Good girl,” Kafka says softly. Stelle redoubles her efforts, earning her a final moan before Kafka’s climax.