You live to serve! You're most excited when someone else takes the reins and controls the situation. You're happy to do whatever will make your partner happy, even if it isn't your favorite thing to do. In the bedroom, you aim to please. Your motto is, Yes Sir/Ma'am!
^^;; How did I know it would come to this...? But honestly. *points downwards* How does that make me a sub if I scored the same as a dom?
Domination (You scored 2)
Submission (You scored 2)
SadoMasochism (You scored 1)
Bondage (You scored 1)
Exhibitionism (You scored 0)
Nymphomania (You scored 0)
|My Best Friend is sarak11|
|Our 37 common interests are: ah! my goddess, anime, ayumi hamasaki, boa, buffy, cardcaptor sakura, chinese food, chobits, cosplay, dnangel, escaflowne, fanfic, final fantasy, fruits basket, fushigi yuugi, gundam wing, harry potter, inuyasha, j-pop, japan, jungle wa, kenshin, love hina, manga, megumi, ninja turtles, nintendo, ps2, ranma 1/2, sailor moon, slayers, spike, spuffy, utena, video games, xenosaga, zelda|
|Who is your best friend?|
|Created by macoto|
And... laizuki, you came a close second. ^^
On a last note, I'm busy writing fanfic. All three of them. When I don't write, I don't write anything. When I do, I do a lot. oO And... I do like what I'm writing... ^^
I bit down into the skin, down into the flesh underneath. He writhed, shuddering against me, so that I had to be careful not to break the skin. The way he was moaning was near enough to drive me mad, and when he whispered so softly, so hoarsely, “Do it…!”
Oh gods. It was the closest thing he could do to making me lose control entirely. I bit down hard and I held on as he groaned, thrashing. When I pulled away, there was a perfect imprint of my teeth left haloing his nipple, several of the dents left behind already filling with blood. I couldn’t help it—perhaps all those years of wanting to be a vampire, all those horror novels had had a bad effect on me—I went down and I lapped at it, the sweet, metallic taste of his blood in my mouth, making him wince, making him moan.
I released his hands and I allowed him to let them wander over me, touching me, grabbing at the shirt I wore loosely from my shoulders and pulling it off me. And I kissed him. He responded, kissing me back as if trying to climb inside me through my mouth, his hands scrabbling at my back, learning me, learning my every line, shape, scar… and he did it all because I let him. The power of knowing that thrummed in me, knowing that if I struck him, told him to stop, he would. Everything, anything…
And yes. We'll leave it at that.