Real story

[Br****]

The room smelled of leather, wax, and silence.

She knelt—legs spread just enough, hands resting obediently on her thighs, eyes lowered to the floor. She didn’t dare look up. Not yet. Not until her Master commanded it.

She could hear the sound of footsteps behind her—measured, confident, unhurried. Each step made her heart pound harder. Her breathing became shallow. Her skin, even without being touched, could already feel the heat of his presence.

He stopped behind her.
She could feel the weight of his gaze on the back of her neck.

Then his voice came, low, calm, and terrifyingly powerful:

“Why are you here?”

Her lips parted. Her voice was soft, trembling, but filled with eagerness:

“To serve you, Master.”

Silence.
Then, the warmth of a hand resting firmly on her shoulder—possessive, grounding, claiming.

“From now on, everything you are belongs to me. Your mind. Your body. Your needs. I will decide when you speak, when you tremble, when you come. Do you accept that?”

She shivered, her breath caught in her throat. And then she nodded, whispering:

“Yes, Master. With all my being.”

He stepped closer. His fingers traced slowly from her neck down to her collarbone, drawing invisible lines of ownership.

“Good. Tonight is your first night. You will make mistakes. You will hesitate. You may even cry. But if you listen well… if you surrender completely…”
He leaned down, his voice now a whisper at her ear.
“You might earn the right to sleep beside me. And if you truly please me… I might even allow you to come.”

Her lips parted again.
Her voice broke, almost a whimper:

“I only want your satisfaction, Master.”

He smiled. Not kindly—but proudly.

“Then begin. Tonight, you will learn what it means to belong. No ***. No resistance. Only obedience… Good girl.”



The silence thickened as he circled her—his steps slow, deliberate, like a lion sizing up its prey.

She stayed kneeling, trembling slightly. The rise and fall of her chest betrayed her anticipation.

He stopped in front of her.

“Eyes on me.”

Her gaze rose instantly—wide, unsure, and already glistening.

He gripped her chin—not gently—and tilted her head up.

“You want to serve me? You think kneeling is enough?”

She shook her head quickly, trying to respond, but his grip tightened.

“You don’t speak unless told. You will learn that.”

A small gasp left her lips. She nodded, eyes down again. But he wasn’t finished.

He walked to the leather bench beside her.

“Crawl to me. No hesitation.”

She hesitated. Just half a second.

SLAP.
The sound cracked through the room. Her head turned with the ***, a soft cry escaping.

“Did I stutter?”

She crawled—fast now. Her knees sc***d on the hard floor, but she didn’t stop. Not with his eyes on her.

“Hands behind your back. Chest out. Present yourself.”

She obeyed. She was learning.

He took the black leather collar from the table.

“Once this is on, there is no going back.”

Her breath caught. But she didn't resist.
He fastened it around her neck like sealing a pact.

“You’re mine now. And I don’t train gently.”

He dragged her by the collar to the bench. Bent her over. Bound her wrists and ankles.

“I want to hear your ***. But more than that, I want to hear your obedience through it.”

The first strike landed hard. She screamed.

“Count.”

“One… Master.”

Another.

“Two… Master.”

By the tenth, her voice was cracking. Her body trembled. Her tears were flowing.
But she still counted.

Still obeyed.

When it was done, he unbound her. She tried to kneel again—legs weak, spirit still intact.

He grabbed her by the hair and whispered:

“That was only the beginning. Tomorrow, you’ll beg for more.”

“Yes, Master… please…”

She was still on the floor. Knees red. Eyes lowered. Marked.

But now, she was something else: ready.

He stood over her. Watching.

She whispered softly:

“Master…”

SLAP.
Her face turned. A sharp gasp.

“You speak when I allow it. You're not here to want. You’re here to give.”

She nodded quickly, lips trembling.

He pulled her up by the collar, slammed her against the wall. Hand at her throat.

“Do you belong to me?”

She tried to nod again. Too slow.

Tighter.

“Say it.”

“I belong to you, Master… completely…”

He dragged her to the bed.

“Strip. Slowly. Like you know your body is mine.”

She obeyed. One piece at a time. Skin exposed. ***. Offered.

“Please use me, Master…”

He shoved her down. Face-first. Ass up.
She moaned at the roughness.

“Tonight you are nothing but my fucktoy. You don’t move. You don’t think. You only take. Understood?”

“Yes, Master… use me… break me…”

He claimed her—hard. Deep. Possessive.

She cried out—his name, his title, her surrender.

Her body begged, but he denied her.

“You’ll come when I fill you. When my cum is inside you. Then, you’re allowed.”

She whimpered. Shook. Fought to hold back.

And then—he released inside her.
Deep. Hot. Final.

“Now.”

Her orgasm tore through her. Uncontrolled. Violent. Pure.

She collapsed, barely able to breathe.

He placed a leash gently on her collar. Sat beside her. Pulled her close.

“You’ve taken your first real step. Tomorrow… we go deeper

[cu****]

🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

[bu****]

Talented writer