She walked into my apartment already trembling. Not with fear, but with need. That desperate, filthy kind of need that seeps out of every pore. She didn’t look at the chair in the center of the room, didn’t look at the ropes coiled neatly on the table. But she saw them. I could see it in her quickened breathing, in the way she bit her bottom lip like she could barely hold herself together.

“You’re late,” I said, my voice low and sharp. Her eyes darted up to meet mine, wide and full of apology.

“Sorry, Sir,” she whispered.

“Shut up.”

Her lips snapped closed. Good.

“Take your clothes off,” I ordered, leaning back against the wall, crossing my arms as I watched her hesitate. “Don’t make me ask again.”

She obeyed, fumbling with the buttons of her blouse, her hands trembling as she stripped in front of me. I didn’t move, didn’t blink. I let the silence stretch, let her squirm under the weight of my gaze until she was standing bare in the middle of the room, her cheeks flushed, her thighs pressed together.

“You look pathetic,” I said, letting my lips curl into a smirk. “Like you don’t even know why you’re here.”

“I do,” she whispered. “I need—”

“I said, shut up.”

Her mouth snapped shut, and I stepped forward, grabbing her jaw, forcing her to look up at me. My grip wasn’t gentle—my thumb pressed hard into her cheek, making her wince. “Do you know what you are?”

“Yes, Sir,” she murmured.

“Say it.”

“I’m your slut.”

I laughed, dark and low. “Not yet, you’re not. But you will be.”

I shoved her toward the chair, her body stumbling into it as I grabbed the rope, binding her wrists tightly to the armrests. She didn’t resist. She wouldn’t dare. Her breathing was fast now, her chest rising and falling as I pulled her legs apart, tying her ankles down, leaving her exposed and helpless.

“Look at you,” I muttered, trailing a finger up her thigh, watching the way her body shudder under my touch. “You’re fucking dripping already. It’s disgusting.”

Her cheeks flushed deeper, but she didn’t look away, didn’t try to close her legs. She wanted this—wanted me to see exactly how much of a mess she was.

I slapped her hard, the sound echoing in the room as her head snapped to the side. She gasped, her body jerking against the ropes, but she didn’t cry out.

“Thank me,” I demanded.

“Thank you, Sir,” she breathed, her voice trembling.

Another slap, harder this time. Her lip split, a tiny drop of blood beading on the corner of her mouth. She didn’t flinch.

“You love this, don’t you?” I growled, leaning down, my hand wrapping around her throat. “You love being treated like the filthy little masochist you are.”

“Yes, Sir,” she gasped, her voice strained. “I love it. Please—”

“Please, what?” I hissed, tightening my grip. “Say it.”

“Please hurt me,” she whispered, her voice breaking, her eyes wild. “Please ruin me.”

I grabbed the crop from the table, letting it trail over her bare skin, teasing, testing, before striking it hard against her thigh. She cried out this time, her back arching against the chair as the pain bloomed, hot and sharp.

“Count,” I ordered.

“One,” she gasped.

The next strike landed across her chest, leaving a red welt on her pale skin.

“Two,” she whimpered, her voice shaking.

I didn’t stop. I didn’t care that her body was trembling, that tears were streaming down her face. She wanted this—needed it. And I would give her exactly what she craved.

By the time I dropped the crop, her body was covered in red lines, her breath coming in ragged gasps. I untied her wrists, yanking her forward, shoving her to her knees in front of me.

“You’re going to prove you’re mine,” I said, unbuckling my belt, pulling my cock free. “And if you don’t do it right, you’re going to regret it.”

She didn’t hesitate. Her lips wrapped around me, her tongue swirling as she took me deep, her throat tightening as she gagged. I grabbed her hair, holding her in place as I thrust into her mouth, her tears mixing with the spit dripping down her chin.

“You’re such a fucking mess,” I muttered, my voice thick with pleasure. “Look at you, choking on my cock like the filthy little whore you are.”

She moaned around me, the sound vibrating through me as I fucked her mouth harder, faster. When I finally came, it was with a guttural groan, my release spilling over her face, her lips, her cheeks.

I stepped back, watching as she knelt there, messy and ruined, her eyes glassy with satisfaction.

“Don’t clean it up,” I said, smirking. “You look perfect like this.”

She smiled faintly, her voice trembling but steady. “Thank you, Sir.”

And I knew I’d broken her. Just like she wanted.