Her body shudders with pleasure as he begins to move inside her again, filling her up and driving her wild. She presses herself against him, grinding their hips together in time with their breath. "Tell me," she says, looking directly into his eyes, "are you mine?" Her voice is soft and seductive, laced with a threat that both frightens and excites him.

As he groans in response, arching his back off the table, she feels herself growing wetter at his answer.

"Good boy," she breathes, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she meets his thrusts with hers. "Now show me how much you love being mine..." Her words are laced with promises of pleasure and pain, power and submission. She watches him carefully, studying his expression for any sign of weakness or hesitation, ready to exploit it if he shows her even the tiniest crack in his armor.

As they laid together like this, their bodies still joined in a post-coital embrace, Elma couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her. Anarchist may have been rough around the edges and not quite what she'd expected when she moved here, but there was something about him that drew her in, made her want to explore further. And for tonight... well, they had plenty of time to do just that.

She knew that tomorrow would bring new challenges and decisions to make, but for now, she could relax and enjoy the moment. With a contented sigh, Elma nestled closer into Anarchist's embrace, feeling safe and protected in his arms. As they drifted off to sleep, their breath mingling together and their hearts racing in unison, she couldn't help but hope that this was the beginning of something truly special between them.

"Alex!" she cried out, arching her back and gripping his shoulders tightly as her orgasm crashed over her in waves. Her inner muscles convulsed around him, milking his length with each spasm, sending him careening toward the edge of sanity. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she slowly regained control, but there was no mistaking the triumphant smile that spread across her lips when he finally erupted inside her, groaning her name as he found his release.

"There," she whispered softly once they'd caught their breath. "That's how it feels to be mine." Her fingers idly traced circles on his cheek before moving to gently caress the hair at the nape of his neck. "Do you understand now?" She waited, her gaze piercing through him as she searched for a reply.

Time passed. Days, weeks... And Anarchist stayed by Elma's side, growing more and more accustomed to her ways. He found himself enjoying the thrill of being with her, of submitting to her whims and desires. But there was something else there too - a sense of obligation, of not wanting to disappoint her.

One day, as they were lazing about in bed after making love, Elma propped herself up on one elbow and looked down at him with a thoughtful expression. "You know,"

she said softly, "I've been thinking... Maybe it's time we made some changes around here." Anarchist raised an eyebrow, curious as to what she meant by that. Elma smiled mischievously and continued, "Maybe it's time for you to start calling the shots for a change..."

Her words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning and possibility. Anarchist swallowed hard, feeling his heart race at the thought of taking control from her...

"You can clean up over here," she said, nodding toward the counter. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she added, "And maybe I'll show you how to please me even more." Her words sent a shiver down Anarchist's spine, and he couldn't help but wonder if there was any escape from this twisted game she seemed intent on playing.

As they cleaned up together, the tension in the air thickened, making it difficult to breathe at times.

When they were finally finished, Elma led Anarchist back into the living room, where dinner was already waiting on the table. The aroma of roasted turkey and homemade stuffing filled the air, making his stomach growl again. She took her place at the head of the table, motioning for him to sit across from her.

As they ate in silence, Elma's gaze never left Anarchist.

"Mmm, yesss...your mouth is divine on my breasts! Don't stop, Nie...let the passion consume us..."

"Oh god, yes...grind against me, dear!"