What She Really Wanted

Wilhelmina had no doubt that Rosalind was the lady of her life, but she was far from perfect. Perhaps her greatest flaw was that, when she got mad, it was almost impossible for anyone to calm her down, and she knew she had done something downright silly upon agreeing to help out her ex-girlfriend, Bianca, with her move. As a result, jealousy had reared its ugly in her otherwise lovely visage and now, the red-haired, hot-blooded young woman felt the need for some form of compensation.

“Rosalind, please… Bianca and I are just friends now, and I did what every friend usually does in this sort of thing… be reasonable!”

“I am being reasonable!” She exclaimed, even though that was far from the truth. “You know I don’t like her one bit, and you still went out to help her when you could have spent that precious time with me, instead!”

“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I? And you’re the one I love and want more than anything in this world! How can I make it up to you?”

She stopped eating from her over-sized box of chocolates and smiled rather wickedly. Wilhelmina immediately regretted the question as Rosalind leaned towards her to cup her chin with a long, delicate finger.

“You know what I really want from you when you disappoint me…” Rosalind cooed and her eyes glanced at the single red rose that adorned the center of the living-room. It was a hybrid of her own design, one that never withered, and had some special… properties.

Yes, Wilhelmina knew too well what would happen if she were to take the rose up to her nostrils and have her inhale its addictive perfume once again. At first, losing control to her and being a slavish toy had been quite liberating and fun but, with every whiff, she seemed to be losing more and more of her true self in the process, and she was afraid to eventually be reduced to a mere simulacrum of a willful human being. No love in the universe justified that.

Nonetheless, it seemed she didn’t have a choice.

“Okay then.” She sighed and looked down as Rosalind glided across the room to pick up her wonderful botanic creation.

The rose was protected by a spiraling, transparent glass case that made sure its odor remained ever fresh. For all she knew, it had been a while since the last time it had been out in the open but, for once in her life, she was wrong.

The moment she lifted the case, Rosalind felt queasy and somewhat ticklish, temporary side-effects of the combination of hormones, pheromones and synthetic drugs used to make its perfume irresistible. It was meant to only work on her girlfriend’s brain, but the formula had been tampered with, and the new aphrodisiac properties were the best medicine against undeserved, arrogant attitudes.

Wilhelmina stopped pretending as soon as she froze and mentally thanked Bianca for all the help she had given her in identifying the components of the mind-altering substances, and replacing them, accordingly. For you see, on the day of her alleged move out of town, the only thing that had been in transit was the red rose whilst her rightful owner was out shopping to calm herself. Things had been returned to its proper place in a nick of time and now, well… now, it was time to fool around a bit….

What Rosalind really wanted out of life was to be constantly pampered, she knew that. She also knew that if they were to be together for eternity and a day, she would have to learn a thing or two about pleasing others, instead of always waiting for her to succumb to her every whim. True love meant sharing after all, and she too was entitled to have her own fantasies fulfilled.

She would never hurt her, of course, but would teach her all the things she had never learned or had purposely forgotten in the course of her grown-up life. In the end, they would both be enriched by it all, and the songs of the heart would be heard loud and clear.

Holding Rosalind in her arms, Wilhelmina kissed her so passionately that she felt her whole body quaver, tight pussy getting wet. The lessons in surrender began shortly after and are still going on at the moment.


 

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S. B.

Simple Being, Middle name Creative. Writer and artist with a penchant for themes of Female Domination, Hypnosis and Mind Control. My thoughts are my own except when they're not.

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