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You stood by the window, the city lights dancing on your skin, unaware that my gaze hadn’t left your since you walked in. I approached slowly, confidently, until you could feel the warmth of my breath at your neck.

“On your knees,” I whispered, not as a request but a promise.

Your heart raced, not from ***, but from the thrill of surrender. There was safety in my voice, control in my touch. As you knelt, I brushed a finger under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet mine.

“Good girl,” I said, and the praise struck deeper than you expected.

That night wasn’t about ropes or blindfolds—it was about trust. About giving and taking, leading and yielding. And in that moment, on you knees with my command echoing in your mind, you knew: you wanted to belong to me .
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