Dominance over my sub

November 3, 2025

I stand in the doorway, arms crossed, watching her kneel in the center of the room. The silk blindfold I tied around her eyes earlier is still in place, her small hands resting palms-up on her thighs exactly as I ordered. She’s naked, skin the color of warm honey, nipples tight from the chill I keep in here on purpose. Her name is Mei, and tonight she’s mine to break open.
“Eyes stay down even if you can’t see, pet,” I say, voice low, letting it roll over her like a warning. She shivers, lips parting on a soft exhale. Good. F*ar and want look the same on her.
I cross the room slowly, boots deliberate on the hardwood. My belt buckle clinks when I stop in front of her. She hears it; her breath hitches. I unzip, the sound loud in the quiet, and my cock (thick, heavy, already leaking) springs free. I grip the base, give it one slow stroke, then tap the fat head against her cheek. Once. Twice. Leaving a wet streak.
“Open.”
Her mouth drops obediently, pink tongue waiting. I don’t ease in. I push past her lips in one smooth thrust, stretching them wide, feeling her gag the second I hit the back of her throat. Tears soak the blindfold instantly. I hold her there, buried to the root, until her hands flutter up to my thighs in panic. Only then do I pull back, let her gasp, then drive in again.
“That’s it,” I growl, fisting her black hair, using it like reins. “*** on it. Show me how grateful you are for this cock.”
She moans around me, the vibration shooting straight to my balls. Saliva drips down her chin, onto her tits. I fuck her face harder, hips snapping, until her mascara runs in dark rivers. When I finally yank free, she sways, lips swollen and glistening.
“Bed. Ass up. Now.”
She scrambles, clumsy with the blindfold, and I let her struggle; it’s hotter that way. When she’s finally on all fours, knees spread, back arched, I take a moment to admire the view. Her pussy is slick, swollen, begging. I drag two fingers through her folds, bring them to my mouth, taste her. Sweet. Desperate.
I line up behind her, notch my cock at her entrance, and slam home in one brutal stroke. She screams (raw, broken, perfect). She’s tiny, and I’m not; the stretch makes her claw the sheets. I don’t give her time to adjust. I pull out, slam back in, setting a punishing rhythm that has her sobbing into the mattress.
“Take it,” I snarl, one hand clamped on her hip, the other reaching around to pinch her clit. “This cunt was made for me. Say it.”
“Y-yours, Sir,” she gasps, voice cracking. “All yours, please—”
I flip her onto her back, rip the blindfold off. Her eyes are huge, glassy, pupils blown. I hook her knees over my elbows, fold her in half, and drive in again. The angle’s deeper; she wails. I lean down, bite her lower lip hard enough to taste copper.
“Look at me when you come.”
I hammer into her, relentless, until her whole body locks up. She comes with a shattered cry, pussy clamping down like a fist, milking me. I follow right after, burying myself to the hilt and flooding her with heat, marking her inside out.
When I pull out, she’s trembling, thighs slick with both of us. I brush a thumb over her cheek, smearing the tears.
“Good girl,” I murmur. “We’re just getting started.”