Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
Midnight is coming. So is he. Red light spills from the glass shelf. Candles, not for romance, but for control. For power. My mirror shows a woman in black. Tight dress, sharp collar, eyes lined with kohl. My hair is dark as the silence between commands.
His name is Daniel. He’s been mine for nearly a year. Polite. Obedient. Shakes when I raise my voice. I like that. Tonight isn’t about punishment. It’s about passage. A new year. A fresh leash.
Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
My darling sub was kneeling on the cold floor, exactly where I told him to wait. I had added a little touch for the holiday season…two tiny silver bells attached near the buckle. Every small movement he made gave a soft, delightful jingle. Ting. Ting. It was the sound of my ownership.
He kept his head bowed and his body tense. He knew the rules. I walked around him slowly as my heels clicked on the hardwood. I didn’t need rope tonight, I needed presentation. “Look up, Darling,” I commanded. His eyes met mine.
Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
He was kneeling before me with his head bowed. Fear is a sound I understand intimately. It’s a language universally welcomed and accepted here. My gaze drifted down the line of my black pencil skirt, lingering on the whip on table beside me. “Look at me,” I commanded.
The sound of my voice broke the tension like a glass shattering. He flinched, then lifted his chin slowly and reluctantly. His eyes were a deep, unsettling blue, swimming with an emotion I recognized instantly. It was the terrifying beauty of surrender. He wasn’t looking at a person; he was looking at the weight of his own submission.
Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
They come to my apartment, crawling with their money and their sad, empty eyes. They want to be nothing. And I am good at making them nothing. When my heels click on the polished floor, it is a quick, clean sound. Like a tiny whip. I wear black, always. Black is serious. Black is power. My red lipstick is the only color. It is like a stain, a mark, on a clean sheet.
Today, it is a man named Mark. He sits on my velvet couch. This man is too big for it, so his shoulders are hunched. He looks like a little lost, but he is old. Pathetic. He avoids my gaze. Good. He knows his place. “You are early,” I say. My voice is not loud, but it is like ice. “Did I say you could be early? No.”
Zesty Zoey 1-844-332-2639 Ext 403
Belle and I got called up, by the powers that be, to work a stint as interrogation agents. They told us that we were the prefect pair to get information out of guys. The agency director said that I’m sweet and persuasive while Belle has the fortitude to do the dirty work that’s sometimes needed. Together they knew we’d get the information needed to assure our country remained a powerhouse in the world of intelligence. So, we were given sexy revealing matching uniforms. Belle was given high heeled boots while I was left barefoot to perpetuate the idea that I was completely harmless.
Naomi 844-332-2639 ext 216
I saw the ad on the app for an option position as secretary. I applied and ended up hired on the spot. He seemed desperate for help. The first day on the job, I realized he needed more than simple clerical help. He needed the secretary to take charge.
I know men and their sensitive egos. So, I slowly took over everything in the office. He went with everything I “suggested” without any resistance. That’s when I knew I was the right woman for this job. I began to be more direct and forceful with my control over him and his business.
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