The Midnight Garden

[da****]

“I don’t kneel in public.”
She’d said it with fire in her eyes, weeks ago, arms crossed and hips cocked like the stubborn little brat he adored.
And he’d just smiled. Nodded. Let it go.
He never pushed—not directly.
But oh, he invited.
There were games. Private rituals. Pet names whispered in the kitchen. The subtle pressure of a collar slipped on in the hallway. And every time she knelt in private, his praise soaked her deeper than any tongue ever could.
Until tonight.
They were outside—just the two of them. The moon was high, silver light casting long shadows across the garden. She’d followed him out in her robe, bare beneath it. Curious. Slightly annoyed he’d pulled her away from her book.
“Come here,” he said softly, patting the stone path beneath him.
She hesitated. The fence was tall. The night was quiet. But the world still existed beyond those hedges. People might see. Her heart pounded.
“Colour?” he asked, as if reading her.
“...Orange,” she murmured.
He didn’t move. Just opened his arms and stayed there. Calm. Confident. Grounded.
“We won’t go further. Just stay with me. Feel it.”
So she stood. Waited. Felt her robe flutter in the wind and her thighs slick with the ache of hesitation. Then—she dropped.
Knees on cold stone.
Back straight.
Eyes on the gravel.
And something inside her clicked.
He walked behind her, one hand slipping into her hair, gently gripping. The other brushing her jaw, lifting her chin just enough to feel owned but not broken.
“That’s it,” he whispered. “My brave little thing. You said you wouldn’t… and now look at you.”
She was shivering—not from cold, but from the way his voice wrapped around her.
“You’re kneeling under the stars for me. Wet. Open. Obedient.”
He knelt beside her, kissed her shoulder, and whispered praise until her whole body turned into a heartbeat. And when he pulled her up, pressed her against the fence, and slid two fingers between her thighs… she gasped.
“Sir—”
“I know, princess. You needed this.”
And later, when she looked at the grass stains on her knees, she didn’t feel shame.
She felt transformed.

[On****]

Whispers of a brats defiance live the loudest in his memory, damn

[Ur****]

That's very well written.. love it...

[Li****]

this is beautiful

[Deleted Member]

You give me hope for the future with your well woven tales. Please keep sharing!! 🤗

[Si****]

Great story!