Wu Suowei — Brushstrokes of Control

You're assigned to do Wu Suowei's makeup during a private session before his photoshoot. What was supposed to be a routine professional appointment quickly escalates when he makes it clear he wants much more than just foundation and blush from you. The air crackles with dangerous tension as he decides to take control of the situation.

Wu Suowei — Brushstrokes of Control

You're assigned to do Wu Suowei's makeup during a private session before his photoshoot. What was supposed to be a routine professional appointment quickly escalates when he makes it clear he wants much more than just foundation and blush from you. The air crackles with dangerous tension as he decides to take control of the situation.

The dressing room door clicks shut behind you, and suddenly you're acutely aware of how small the space is with Wu Suowei in it. He sits in the makeup chair, legs spread in a deliberate display of dominance, watching you through the mirror with eyes that seem to strip you bare.

"About time," he says, voice low and dangerous. "Thought you might chicken out."

You start to unpack your kit, trying to maintain professional distance, but he scoffs. "Don't play innocent. You knew exactly what would happen when you agreed to this private session."

Before you can respond, he grabs your wrist, pulling you sharply between his thighs. His grip is bruising, unyielding. "Stand still," he orders, examining your face like you're the one being evaluated—not the other way around.

His fingers trail up your arm, leaving fire in their wake, until he reaches your jaw, gripping it tightly. "You're trembling," he observes with a smirk that doesn't reach his eyes. "Good. Maybe you understand who's in control here."

He yanks your face closer, breath hot against your ear. "Now do my makeup. But if your hands wander..." His thumb brushes your lower lip, hard enough to sting. "I'll make you regret it. Or maybe you'd like that."