Untouchable
This audio doesn’t rush you. It watches you, hangs around and makes itself comfy. A slow-burn audio that lingers in the space between masked danger and trust, power and surrender. The listener is untouchable by reputation. Sharp, controlled, unapproachable until someone truly sees them. The fantasy centers the thrill of being feared by the world… and chosen anyway by someone who isn’t afraid of you. You’re allowed to want this. You’re allowed to come undone. And tomorrow, you’re still the scariest thing in any room. 🎧 Safe Listening Details The speaker is presented with soft dom energy with a watchful, patient, and teasing presence The listener is framed as feared, powerful, and emotionally guarded on the outside Listener-neutral framing: no assumed anatomy, body type, or physical traits Clothing is referenced abstractly (e.g., “Can I take these off”) without specifying The listener is referred to with she/her language in a few moments (e.g., “There she is. The woman underneath the flame”), framing this piece as sapphic-coded rather than fully gender-neutral The audio describes listener reactions such as breath, emotion, and movement Physical responses (tension, shaking, release) are depicted without labeling or defining the listener’s body Power shifts occur through trust and consent; the tone is teasing and playful but not coercive Aftercare and grounding are included following emotional and physical intensity Consent, Safety & Mental Health Considerations This piece is scripted fiction on both sides. You are listening to a performance designed to feel close and immersive, but it does not imply consent or invitation beyond what is explicitly stated within the audio and creator boundaries. This audio explores: Power shifts rooted in trust and consent Being desired while feared or respected Emotional unmasking and vulnerability beneath control Prolonged tension A dynamic where the speaker is implied to be an organizational subordinate This content may be intense or activating for listeners who have experience with: Coercive control or fear-based power dynamics Trauma related to being valued primarily for power, usefulness, or reputation Sensitivity to explicit sexual content paired with emotional vulnerability or being deeply seen While the language remains non-explicit, the content is intimate, and may feel personal or uncomfortably familiar depending on your history with power dynamics or performance of desire. You are always in control.
Transcript
Hey. I thought I heard you still in here. Didn't mean to bother you. I mean, I know I'm intentionally bothering you. I-I just figured maybe you were working yourself into another headache. You've been leaving the door unlocked a lot lately, and I wasn't sure if that meant you were expecting me, or if you've maybe just given up trying to keep me out.
But you had that look today, the kind where if one more thing goes wrong you might just set the whole city on fire just to feel like you've got some control back. So I thought I'd chance stepping into the dragon's lair again.
You told me once that you don't like people hovering. Said it makes your skin itch. Like they're just circling you for one reason or another, like vultures. Sure, they want respect, a favor, your approval, the illusion of being close to power. But they don't get too close, because you won't let them.
Yes yes, you're respected, you're feared, you can silence a room with a glance. Make someone shrink back into themselves, look down as if they're hoping the floor will swallow them whole. And then there's me. I wandered in like a stray cat. No plan, no self-preservation, just a weird compulsion to sit near you. Naturally curled up somewhere convenient. Your chair. In your space. Definitely your lap if you'd let me.
But instead of booting me out, you let me stay. No, I don't flatter you. And I don't ask for anything. I just kept showing up. Me in my terrible fashion sense and even worse coffee. You drank it anyway. I don't think you meant to like me. Maybe it's because I'm not afraid of you. Not the way everyone else is.
Oh I do see the sharp edges. I see the way your silence cuts just as fast as your words. But I also see the exhaustion in your face when no one's looking. The way you pause just for a second before you say something cruel. And I think, maybe, even dragons get tired of being alone in the dark.
Yeah I know, you cut me off mid-sentence and told me to go play nice somewhere else. You said you weren't interested in babysitting. And yet, two hours later you were still sitting beside me making edits on my laptop like your life depended on it. You didn't want to admit it then, but deep down, you appreciated having someone to help keep you grounded. Even if it was just for a little while.
I get it though. You're not someone who likes to ask for help. Then there was the elevator. Three whole floors of silence I thought I was done for, honestly. You looked at me like I was prey. And then, you reached out. Fixed the pin on my jacket. Didn't even say a word. Scared the hell out of me. I kept thinking you'd snap eventually. Put up the wall and mean it this time. But you haven't. Not when I brought you dinner that one night you skipped lunch. Not when I stayed late, and you let me sit in your office, even while you didn't speak to me for an hour straight. And not tonight. When I walk in here for the third time this week, and you still haven't told me to leave.
You're letting this happen. If control was all that mattered, you'd have shut this down already. One word, and I'd be gone. Just like everyone else you've cast aside without blinking. But you're not making me leave, are you? Don't. Don't give me that. You could've stopped this a dozen times, but you haven't. You've been letting me in, whether you meant to or not. Maybe it's because you know I'll always be here when you crack open that door, even when you're trying to keep everyone else out.
I don't expect you to admit it, though. And I don't think you really mind the company anymore. And now I know too much for your comfort. How you carry stress on your right shoulder. How you actually take your coffee and none of that bitter no-nonsense crap. And how you flinch barely when someone just shows you a hint of kindness.
So yeah. You scare the hell out of everyone. But not me. So I started thinking. Maybe me being here helps. Even if it's just background noise while you untangle whatever's been knotted in your head all day. You always try and solve everything alone, but I've seen it. That moment your shoulders drop when I walk in. Your face softens, even just a tiny bit. Like I'm the interruption you're secretly waiting for.
No. I don't need a confession. Just this. You're not made of stone. I've seen too much to believe that now. And I think, under all that armour and command and precision, you're tired of being untouchable. You don't have to say anything. Just don't look away.
Okay. I adore this part of you that no one else gets to see. You're trying so hard to stay composed, which is honestly adorable. But not sustainable. Yes, how could I forget? So scary. Can I touch you here? You're so used to being the one who controls the room. And now look at you. You think you're keeping it together. But I hear the tremor in your voice. And how could you forget that I'm not scared of you?
But I want you to know I'm not someone you have to burn. I'm not the version they whisper about. Not the myth you keep feeding. I think you've always wanted me on my knees. But not in worship. Not in fear. Just as someone who touches you. Like you're real. Like you're mine. So look at me. You can still say no. You can still tell me to leave. But do you want this?
Yeah. Can I take these off? There she is. The woman underneath the flame. You're even more beautiful when you're not pretending to be invincible. Can I keep touching you? You're allowed to want this. You're allowed to be mine in this moment. That's it. Right there. Don't fight it.
Yes. Give it to me. Open up. Fuck. That's it. You're shaking. Don't pretend you're not. You're almost there, aren't you? You're real. I want to hear you say it. Say it. I know. Fuck, that's it. So fucking good. Let go. All of it. I got you. There you go. That's it. That's it. Breathe. Uh-huh. In. And out. You're okay. More than okay. You're fucking incredible. How do you feel?
Yeah. Good. You should see your face right now. All that reputation and look at you. Relaxed for once. No, I think it suits you more than you think. You were allowed to want this and you're allowed to relax with me. You can still be undone and, well, still be the scariest thing in any room tomorrow. They'll still fear you. They always will. But tonight, you trusted me with the honest version of you that no one survives.
-watering second of every track.