It wasn’t just his voice that held power over me—it was the way he carried himself, the quiet confidence that made my knees weak and my thoughts scatter. He didn’t need to demand; he merely had to suggest, and my body would respond like it was waiting for his command.

The evening began as most of our nights did: me kneeling by his chair, waiting for his instruction. Tonight, though, there was a different energy in the room. His eyes lingered on me longer than usual, his hand lightly trailing along my cheek before he spoke.

“Take off everything but the cuffs,” he said, his tone calm but firm. The leather cuffs around my wrists were a constant reminder of who I belonged to, and as I stripped, the weight of his gaze made my skin burn.

Once I was bare, he led me to the ottoman in the middle of the room. “Lie down,” he instructed, and I obeyed, my body trembling with anticipation. The cool leather beneath me contrasted sharply with the warmth of his hand as he secured my arms above my head, fastening the cuffs to the anchor point.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he murmured, his voice sending shivers down my spine. “You’ve been so good for me lately, and I think it’s time I reward you.”

His hands began exploring me, teasing the most sensitive parts of my body. Every touch was deliberate, every movement calculated to draw out a moan or a gasp. But just as I started to melt into the pleasure, he stopped, pulling back entirely.

“Not yet,” he said, smirking at my whimper of protest. He leaned down, his lips grazing my ear. “You’ll come when I decide you’re ready.”

The next hour was a lesson in control—his and mine. He used his hands, his mouth, and a variety of toys to bring me to the edge over and over again, only to pull me back just as I thought I’d fall. My body was shaking, my mind a haze of need, and the only coherent thought I could muster was his name.

Finally, he moved behind me, his hand pressing between my shoulder blades as he positioned himself. “Now,” he whispered, his tone dripping with dominance, “you’re going to show me just how much you belong to me.”

The feeling of him filling me, claiming me completely, was overwhelming. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through me, and when he finally allowed me to let go, it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. My body convulsed, my cries filling the room as I gave myself over to him entirely.

Afterward, he unbound me gently, pulling me into his arms as I came down from the high. His fingers brushed my hair as he whispered, “You’re mine, and I’ll always take care of you.”

That night, I didn’t just feel owned—I felt cherished. It was a reminder of why I trusted him with every part of me, body and soul.