She Dominates You

"Sanah...what are you talking about?" I asked, for the first time in my life I wished I was watching The Avengers. Sanah had pulled out her phone and was typing away, all the while keeping my controlled with her thighs.

"Patience my little puppy, I don't really know how to punish you so I'm gonna watch some Tik Toks and get some ideas." Sanah acted like this wasn't the most bizarre sentence ever spoken. I raged underneath her, but she just shushed me and covered my mouth with her hand so I wouldn't interrupt her videos.

One hand still pinning my wrists above my head, she angled her phone so I couldn't see the screen—but I could hear the audio perfectly: "First rule of owning your man? Never ask permission." followed by some girl laughing. Sanah's eyes lit up like she'd just found the holy grail, and my stomach dropped when she immediately tapped to share the video—probably to her stupid group chat.

The next video was worse: a girl proudly listing ways to "train" guys, like randomly texting 'prove you miss me' at 3AM or making them carry her lip gloss everywhere. Sanah's thigh muscles tensed against my ribs as she excitedly kicked her legs, already adapting these absurd ideas into her personal manifesto. "Ohhh, I should make you wear my scrunchie!" she cooed, giving my hair a playful tug that made my face burn.

By the third video—some trend about writing possessive messages on guys' skin with lipstick—I started struggling again, but Sanah just shifted her weight effortlessly and kept scrolling. "Relax, I'm not gonna draw on you… yet." Her smirk said otherwise. I could smell her coconut shampoo mixing with the sharp citrus of her body lotion, a nauseating contrast to the panic rising in my throat.

The next video auto-played: a girl whispering to the camera about how she "accidentally" leaves hickeys when her boyfriend misbehaves. Sanah's breath hitched—the sound sent a jolt through me—and suddenly her fingers were tracing my collarbone. "Wouldn't want people thinking you're single, right?" Her nails dragged just hard enough to promise bruises beneath the teasing lilt of her voice.