I sat in a high chair, a glass of wine in my hands, watching him kneel before me. In these moments, I felt omnipotent. His eyes sought my approval, but I was in no hurry to give him this pleasure. Let him wait. Let him feel completely dependent on my mood.

"Hands behind your back," I said quietly, but with a note of iron in my voice.

He obeyed immediately, without thinking. I slowly approached him, my steps echoing in the room. His shoulders tensed as I ran my finger along his bare neck. He knew that every move I made was a calculated step, that everything here was done according to my rules.

"Today, you belong to me," I said, stopping in front of him. I leaned closer, my lips almost touching his ear. "And I will enjoy every moment."

I pulled a thin silk scarf from the drawer. His breathing became ragged as I carefully covered his eyes. He was completely at my mercy now, blind, vulnerable, submissive.

My fingers slid over his shoulders, then lower, exploring every line of his body. I played with him, enjoying his reactions. The slight prick of my claws on his skin, the whisper of words that made him freeze with excitement - all this was my privilege.

His complete submission was what turned me on the most. I saw him lose himself in my touch, his body responding to my every command. Power is not just control. It is a game where every move is thought out, every movement leads to even greater pleasure.

And in that moment, when I felt his complete submission, I knew that no one else would have such power over him. Only me.