YOU'RE MINE [ LINGORM ]

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Expect Incorrect Grammars Typos As English Is Not My Primary Language, Hoping for your understanding. Thank you.

⚠️🔞 WARNING 🔞⚠️
May contain sensitive themes, language, sexual violence not suitable for young readers.

[@LINGORM HOUSE] [@BEDROOM]

3RD PERSON POV.

The air crackled with a volatile energy that seemed to electrify the very walls of the opulent bedroom. It was a cage of gold and marble, a gilded prison designed to ensnare and control. ORM, trapped against the cool, unforgiving wall, struggled in LINGLING’s grip.  Each breath she took was a gasp, her heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird.

“Let go of me!” she shouted, her voice a blend of fury and fear, “Who do you think you are to forbid me from leaving the house? You don’t own me, LING!”

LINGLING’s grip tightened, her fingers like steel clamps around ORM’s arm. "I warned you, didn’t I? But you didn’t listen. You left the house without my permission,” she snarled, her voice a chilling growl.

Two weeks.  It had only been two weeks since they exchanged vows, a charade orchestrated to serve a dark purpose. Two weeks since LINGLING began to tighten her control, transforming their shared space into a suffocating fortress of possessiveness.

“You’re Mine, ORM KORNNAPHAT. No one else should own you but me. That’s what you should remember, you’re mine,” LINGLING hissed, her eyes blazing with a dangerous intensity.

With a swift, brutal movement, she twisted ORM’s arm behind her back, pinning her against the wall.  Her other hand clamped over ORM’s chin, forcing her to look into her eyes. It was a chilling display of power, a stark reminder of who was in control.

“Don’t… don’t… touch me,” ORM gasped, her voice catching in her throat.

LINGLING ignored her pleas, her lips descending upon ORM’s in a violent, domineering kiss.  ORM fought back, her body a writhing mass of defiance, but LINGLING was relentless, her strength a force of nature.  She was a storm of untamed passion, a tempest of desire that was both intoxicating and terrifying.

Finally, LINGLING pulled back, her lips curling into a cruel smile.  “Next time, don’t tell me that I don’t own you, because you are mine.  And I can prove it,” she whispered, her voice a venomous caress.

With a disdainful toss of her head, she turned and left the room, the door slamming shut behind her.  ORM slumped against the wall, her body trembling, her eyes filled with a mixture of anger, fear, and a terrifying realization: she was a prisoner in her own gilded cage.

The tears that she had held back for so long finally spilled over, cascading down her cheeks.  They weren’t tears of weakness; they were tears of fury, tears of betrayal, tears of a woman who had been stripped of her freedom and her agency.

ORM had always been a fighter, a woman who thrived on control and power.  She was ORM KORNNAPHAT, a force to be reckoned with.  But LINGLING was something different, something more dangerous.  She was a whirlwind of untamed passion and ruthless ambition, a woman who saw ORM as a possession, a trophy to be claimed and controlled.

ORM knew she couldn’t stay here, trapped in this gilded cage, at the mercy of LINGLING’s possessive wrath.  She had to escape, to find a way to regain her freedom, her agency.  But the path ahead was fraught with peril, and the stakes had never been higher.  Her life, her freedom, her very soul, were on the line.  And she was determined to fight for every inch of it.