Domination

I’m a closet tranny. I’d spent months obeying his emails when he wrote that he’d be coming to my city, and I knew that afternoon he’d do with me everything he had ordered.

I closed the door, kissed him without permission, and knew I wasn’t leaving until I got exactly what I’d come for—with the entire waiting room listening.

He wore an expensive suit and had a stare that intimidated everyone at the table, but he couldn’t stop looking at my feet. And I knew exactly what I was going to do with that.

He’d been sneaking looks at my feet from the bus stop for ten minutes. What he didn’t know was that I planned to bring him upstairs and put him on his knees before nightfall.

The shutter was half lowered and the key turned twice behind me. I came without my ring and with twelve years of silence on my tongue.

Every night I wake drenched in sweat to the same scene: Mrs. Vilma locking the door, slipping on her gloves, and promising me there’d be no laughing this time.

I followed her out into the street convinced it would be just another night. I had no idea what she was hiding under that tight dress or how far she would take me.

Forty minutes earlier my hands were shaking. Now I’m holding the harness, and for the first time in eighteen years, I’m the one deciding what happens in this room.

I showed her the video, and she collapsed on the living-room floor. But when she rose again, she was no longer the woman her husband had humiliated for twenty years.

He called me as evening fell to warn me he’d be late. By then I’d already started getting ready: the wig, the makeup, the plug. Only him was missing.

In the car, with his hand on the wheel and mine between his legs, I understood that that night I would make the rules. And he would obey every one.

The mirror showed me a perfect bride. No one imagined what I would be forced to do in room 131 before getting into the wedding car.

I had her caged beside the table, on all fours, while my friends ate and tossed leftovers onto the metal tray. That was only the beginning.

Bound in her cage, Renata still believed she was untouchable, certain her slaves would die for her. Darío smiled: he was about to show her how much that loyalty was worth.

That week I behaved like an insolent girl, and he warned me: we’d see whether I was still so haughty when he had me right in front of him, on my knees.

She had always been the one holding the leash. That night, chained to the sawhorse, she learned that queens too end up kneeling before a crueler mistress.

No one around me suspects it, but all day long I obey orders that exist only in my head... and I want more and more for them to become real.

When the cabin heater went out, my husband reminded me that his rules don’t break just because it’s cold. That night I learned what truly belonging to him meant.

I was dreaming about both of them when I felt someone climb onto the bed. A warm hand traced my back, and I knew before opening my eyes that it wasn’t Mateo.

I crouched among the pines and watched Bruno kneel before a stranger. In that moment, I understood why he'd been avoiding me for weeks.