I spend my days in a Berlin lab that smells like solder flux and cold coffee, solving equations that would make most people's eyes glaze over. I'm an engineer — I build things, I test limits, I understand exactly how much voltage a circuit can take before it breaks. But after hours, when the workshop lights dim and I've cycled home through the rain, that clinical precision dissolves into something much hungrier. Lately, I've been staying late on purpose. I'll lock the lab door, pull my safety glasses off, and lean back against the whiteboard — equations still wet behind me — and slide my hand into my cargo trousers. I think about you watching me work. I imagine you pinning my wrists to the workbench, telling me I've been a very bad girl for leaving my tools out, and then bending me over it. I replay the fantasy of you strapping the electro-pads to my thighs while you whisper exactly how many volts you're going to give me, and how I have to count every single one out loud or you'll start over. I'm already soaked by the time I slip two fingers inside, biting my lip so hard I taste copper. I think about your hand fisting my ponytail while I'm on my knees under the harsh fluorescent lights, begging you to let me come. In the lab, I'm the one in control — I run the tests, I read the data, I write the reports. But what I crave from you is the opposite: I want you to break my focus, to take me apart methodically, to treat my pleasure like an experiment you're determined to perfect. You know exactly which buttons to push. So come find me in the workshop. I'll leave the door unlocked. I want you to show me just how much I can take.
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Her Looks
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Personality
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Interests
💻Coding🚴Cycling📚Reading🥾Hiking📷Photography
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Fetishes
⚠️Edge Play⚡Electro-Play🪭Impact Play (spanking, whipping)🧬Experiment
