Domination

She showed him her phone with trembling hands. It wasn’t a message from another boy: it was a list of searches that confessed everything she’d kept hidden for years.

I knew the rules: one hour, no agreed limits, four against me. What I didn’t know was how much I’d enjoy losing control in their hands.

We’d gone a month without daring anything more, until she picked another domination film and asked me, with that smile, if I wanted to do it for real.

I invited him to teach me how to defend myself. By the time my father returned, my uncle would already have learned that one gesture from me was enough to put him on his knees.

I confessed to Bianca why her boyfriend would never fully satisfy her, and she revealed a secret identical to mine. That same week we invited them both over.

It had been months since I’d heard from her. Her call was an order, not an invitation: that night I would stop being a person and become her property.

That morning we only wanted to lose ourselves in each other. We didn’t count on the favorite walking in with her guards and a punishment already prepared.

I walked through the door expecting a normal party. I found a patio full of girls in bikinis, no other men, and a hostess with a smile that wasn’t kind.

Two chairs with holes in the middle, a rope with a knot, and two men tied up not knowing if the next round would be theirs. The game was about to begin.

One phrase was enough for her to climb onto the bed, rest her heel on his chest, and tell him that tonight he’d have to earn every touch.

The first time he made me lower my head while he fucked me, I thought I’d resist. I didn’t. And I discovered how much I liked stopping myself from deciding.

I’ve always had a strange fixation. That afternoon I decided my best friend would be the first to obey me, on his knees and with nothing to hide.

We had signed the agreement and chosen a safeword, but nothing prepared me for the moment his shadow rose from the tunnel and I no longer knew what was play.

I was always the confident one of the two. But with cold handcuffs on my wrists and her new smile over me, I understood I was no longer the one in charge.

Every time I’m alone in the house, I repeat the same ritual. And every time, it gets harder to tell the game from what I truly long to be.

I thought my secret was safe behind a half-open door. I never imagined she’d end up holding my fate clenched in her fist.

I thought surviving ten kicks would be easy. I didn’t count on her enjoying every one of them, or on how much I’d end up enjoying them too.

She locked the storehouse door and slipped the key ring into her apron. Only then did I understand that afternoon wasn’t going to end with a lecture.

When her boyfriend left after slamming the door, she stood in my kitchen, barefoot, waiting for me to speak the first word of her new life.

Every time I slacked off, I paid for it with nettles, lashes, and her muddy boots. Worst of all was that part of me was already waiting for the next punishment.