My submissive was waiting for me tied up when I got home from work

I just wanted to get home as fast as I could. I walked quickly down the avenue, dodging people with an urgency I could barely hide. It had been an endless day, one of those days when you don’t even get a minute to breathe, and my body was collecting on everything all at once at the end of the workday.

The pressure low in my belly was almost unbearable. I’d been holding it for hours, first because of back-to-back meetings, then because of the packed subway, and now because of a decision I’d made on purpose. I wasn’t going to use any bathroom out on the street. Not that afternoon. Every step reminded me how full I was, and every red light seemed like a little torture designed to test me.

I could have gone into a café. I could have taken care of it like any normal person. But I didn’t want to take care of it just anywhere. I wanted to bring it home intact, keep it as if I were saving something valuable, and give it to the only person who had earned it.

All through that afternoon meeting, while the managers argued over figures nobody would remember by the next day, I’d been thinking about this. About the exact moment I would cross the threshold. About his face when he saw me come in. The people who share a table with me have no idea what goes through my head, and that distance between what I show and what I desire is part of the game I enjoy even far from home.

I clenched my thighs remembering the last time. The way he had trembled with my pussy over his face, the way he had thanked me with a breaking voice while my juices ran down his chin. That image stayed with me for the last few blocks like an engine, pushing me to walk even faster along the overheated sidewalk.

Hang on a little longer. Just a little longer.

The afternoon heat wasn’t helping. It was sticky and sweltering, the kind that leaves your blouse stuck to your back, and I had the feeling my own body had become a vessel on the verge of overflowing. I quickened my pace. Half a block left.

When I finally slipped the key into the lock, my hands were shaking. I shoved the door open with my shoulder and slammed it shut behind me. Home at last. Safe at last from prying eyes, where I could be exactly who I am.

***

I didn’t turn on any lights. I dropped my bag on the floor of the entryway and started taking my clothes off right there, in the middle of the hallway, without patience or care. My shoes flew off in different directions. The blouse ended up hanging from a chair. I yanked down my skirt along with my soaked panties in one hard pull, and the warm air of the apartment hit my swollen, wet pussy, reminding me that it wasn’t just my bladder that had been on the edge for hours. The rest came off as I walked, leaving a trail of clothes toward the back of the apartment.

Naked, with my skin still damp from the heat outside, my tits swinging free and my nipples hard, I walked barefoot to the last door in the corridor. The special room. The only one with a lock on the inside and the outside, the one no visitor knows, the one he and I built in silence over months until it was exactly the way we wanted it.

I rested my palm on the wood and took a deep breath. On the other side I could hear his breathing, held in, anxious. He knew I was there. He had been waiting for me for a long time, in the position I’d left him in, without moving, because that is his task and he carries it out without anyone watching him.

I opened it.

***

There was Mateo. Naked, kneeling in the center of the room, his arms pulled behind him and his wrists secured to the low frame we’d fixed to the wall. The dim light from the bedside lamp fell across his shoulders and left his face in shadow, but I could make out his smile. That smile of satisfied obedience, the smile of someone who knows the wait was worth it. Between his legs his cock stood out hard as stone, red, pressed against his belly, dripping a thick thread of pre-cum that gleamed on the tip.

—Good afternoon —I said, and my voice sounded firmer than I expected—. Have you behaved?

—Yes, ma’am —he answered softly, without lifting his gaze more than permitted.

I liked that word in his mouth. I always do. Not because of submission itself, but because of everything he has to surrender to get there: control, shame, the idea of who a man should be out in the world. In here none of that matters. In here I’m in charge, and he chose that as much as I chose him.

I moved closer slowly, savoring every second of the trip. The urgency that had dragged me down the street was still intact, but now it was different. Now it had a destination. I walked around him, letting him hear my footsteps on the floor, letting him feel my presence circling him without touching him yet. I stopped behind him and ran a nail along the back of his neck; I felt him shudder all over, his cock bouncing against his abdomen.

—I held it in all day —I told him, stopping in front of him—. I had a thousand chances to do it somewhere else. I didn’t. You know why?

—For me, ma’am —he murmured, and I noticed him swallow.

—For you —I confirmed.

I took his chin between two fingers and lifted his face until he had to hold my gaze. His eyes were shining, his pupils dilated, his whole body taut with anticipation. Seeing him like that, tied up and yet desperate to serve me, gave me a satisfaction unlike any other.

—You asked for this —I reminded him—. You asked for it with your own words. So now you’re going to get it, and you’re going to thank me.

—Thank you, ma’am —he said, before I’d even begun.

—Not yet —I cut him off, grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck firmly—. First you’re going to do something. Open your mouth.

I brought my pussy up to his face, still not letting anything out, and felt his warm tongue dart out to lick my swollen lips with a hunger that drew a low laugh from me. He sucked my folds, searched for my clit with the tip of his tongue, pushed his whole mouth against my sex as if he wanted to drink me before I gave him anything to drink. I let him work like that for long minutes, holding his head against me, setting the rhythm myself, feeling how the pressure of my bladder mixed with another pressure, much older and much sweeter.

—Good boy —I panted, tugging his hair—. Suck that pussy well, the one that held it in all day for you.

He moaned against my flesh, his mouth full, and those moans vibrated through my clit. I dug my nails into his scalp and rode his face until I felt I was close. Then I pulled away.

***

I stood in front of him, spread my legs wide, and finally let the tension of the entire afternoon find its release. The relief was immediate, almost violent, a warm, dense rush that swept through my whole body and pulled a long sigh from the depths of my chest. I closed my eyes for an instant, surrendering completely to that sensation of letting go of something I’d been holding in for hours with so much effort. The stream hit his forehead first, then his open mouth, then ran down his neck and soaked his chest and his hard cock, which jerked every time it got splashed.

He took each drop like a reward. He opened his mouth wider, offered his body, stuck out his tongue, and let everything fall over him without moving even a millimeter away. I had held it in for so long, I had saved it only for him, and seeing him bathe in something that was exclusively mine confirmed what I already knew: that he belongs to me in a way the words out there are not enough to name.

—Swallow —I ordered when the stream filled his mouth—. Swallow it all, you motherfucker. Don’t waste a drop of your mistress.

He obeyed. Of course he obeyed. I heard him swallow in full mouthfuls, his throat working, while I kept emptying myself over his face. When the pressure eased, I aimed the last of it at his cock, soaking it completely, watching the liquid run over his balls and drip between his thighs. He trembled and moaned, his dick harder than I’d seen it in weeks, veined, throbbing in the air with no one to touch it.

—Stay still —I warned when I saw his hips push forward, searching for something, anything—. Don’t even think about cumming. That cock isn’t yours tonight.

—No, ma’am —he gasped, his lips shining and his chin dripping.

I crouched in front of him, still squatting, and took his face in both hands. I licked a drop hanging from his chin and slipped it into his mouth with a deep kiss, forcing him to taste the mix of his own and mine. Then I moved lower, ran my tongue over his soaked chest, and when I reached his cock I blew on it without touching it. He whimpered, his wrists straining against the restraints.

—Please —he murmured—. Please, ma’am.

—No —I said calmly, and kissed the tip hard enough to make him howl—. You’re going to stay like this, with that dick standing up, soaked with me, and you’re going to think all night about how good it feels to be mine.

I squeezed his balls with my hand, firm but brief, and let go before he could finish on himself. Then I stood up, my mouth still full of the mingled taste of his and mine, and stared at him for a moment. His body was shining, marked by me from head to chest, and he was breathing hard, still tied up, still on his knees, still with that hard cock waiting for the next order that wasn’t going to come tonight.

—Good boy —I told him, and the phrase loosened his shoulders as if I’d lifted a huge weight off him.

***

I bent down and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. A real kiss, without performance, because between us domination doesn’t exclude affection; on the contrary, it makes it deeper. He answered with a tenderness that softened something inside me, that part of me the rest of the world never sees, and let me taste my own flavor on his tongue without resisting.

—You’re staying like that a little longer —I told him, stroking his wet cheek—. With that dick standing up, without touching yourself. Thinking about how well you behaved. Then I’ll come back and free you.

—Yes, ma’am —he replied, and I swear he sounded grateful.

I gave one last look at the body smeared with me, at the wrists secured, at the cock still throbbing against his belly, at the smile that still hadn’t left his face. I took that image with me, stored it away the way you keep something you’ll need soon, and left the room, closing the door slowly behind my steps.

The hallway was silent. My body, finally freed from the tension that had ruled it all afternoon, felt light and at the same time lit up. One thing had eased, yes, but another had just awakened, and that one had no intention of waiting. Between my legs I could still feel Mateo’s mouth tattooed there, his tongue working me, and my pussy was dripping hot down the insides of my thighs.

***

I walked toward the bedroom with my decision already formed. I needed to cool off, wash away the day’s sticky sweat, but before that there was something that deserved attention, and that something was me.

I still felt the heat throbbing between my legs, that heat that had nothing to do with the weather. Seeing Mateo surrendered, tied up, his cock swollen and his face soaked with me had left me on the edge of something only I know how to resolve. And this time there was no one to give that job to. This time it was mine, entirely mine.

I opened the drawer where I keep my toys, the ones I know by heart, the ones that know exactly how to handle me. I chose without hesitation: the thick black silicone dildo, the one that fills me to the bottom, and the small clitoral vibrator. I flopped onto the bed on my back, spread my legs wide, and slid two fingers through my pussy. I was dripping, slippery, swollen with pent-up desire. My fingers sank in on their own and came out shining, with thick strings hanging from my fingertips.

I licked my fingers slowly, savoring my own taste, and took my other hand to my tits. I pinched one nipple hard, pulling until it hurt, and arched my back against the mattress. Then I grabbed the dildo, placed it at the entrance of my pussy, and shoved it in with one thrust, all the way to the hilt, with a low moan that bounced off the bedroom walls.

I started fucking myself, pumping the dildo in and out with a steady rhythm, feeling myself opening and tightening around the silicone. With my other hand I switched on the vibrator and pressed it to my clit. The effect was immediate: my hips jerked, and a cry escaped me that I didn’t even try to hold back. I fucked faster, deeper, biting my lip, my tits bouncing with the rhythm of my own hand.

I thought of him on the other side of the wall, still waiting, his dick standing up without being allowed to touch it, listening to me moan, listening to the wet slap of the dildo going in and out of my pussy. That idea drove me to the edge in seconds. I thought of his obedience, his smile, the way he’d opened his mouth without complaint and swallowed every last drop. I turned the vibrator up and drove the dildo in all the way, rocking my hips against my hand.

I came screaming his name, my pussy clamping around the silicone in long, deep spasms that left me trembling from head to toe. I felt it running down my ass, soaking the sheets, felt the orgasm stretching on for endless seconds before dropping me there, gasping, with the vibrator still buzzing between my legs.

I only switched it off when the second spasm started to hurt. I pulled the dildo out slowly and let it fall onto the soaked sheets. I stayed like that for a while, legs open, breathing deeply, feeling the slow throb of my satisfied cunt.

And as my breathing settled, I understood that this was the real reward of being in charge: that even when I’m only taking care of myself, the power is still entirely mine. That he is on the other side of the hall, soaked, tied up, with his cock rock-hard and forbidden any relief, while here I’m making myself come alone with his name in my mouth.

The heat was still there. But now I knew exactly what to do with it.