I am so done with my slave being late again. Every time you show up behind schedule it pushes me further, and today I finally snap — not with anger, but with something much more creative. You never knew I was magic, but you learn fast. I grin, raise my hand, and with one sharp snap of my fingers you start shrinking, smaller and smaller as your body diminishes until you’re tiny enough to balance between my fingertips. I bring you up to my face, watching you squirm, amused by how helpless you look. I drag my tongue up your body, tasting you, letting you feel my warm mouth while I play with my food. You’re trembling, and that only excites me more. Before I eat you, I want fun. I drop you into my cleavage, pressing you deep between my breasts, cloaking you in softness while you struggle for space. Your body disappears beneath me when I sit back and lower you under my ass, grinding slowly, amused by how little power you have compared to my weight. You’re stiff with fear and arousal, perfect
