Domination

She had spent centuries in the shadows without desiring anything. But when she saw me alone in the library, something in her changed forever.

I close my eyes and she appears: tall, dark, with a cock I never expected to find—and now can’t get out of my head.

I closed the laptop and could still feel his imaginary hands on my skin, the deep voice giving orders I obeyed without hesitation. A fantasy so real it left me shaking.

Marco had spent a year kissing her feet in silence. The night he left to capture a rival, he returned as the sole master of the mansion.

There had been something in her eyes when she turned away that should have worried me. It wasn’t an annoyed neighbor’s anger. It was a promise.

It began in the university courtyard, when a punch left me breathless and I felt something beyond pain. After that, I couldn’t stop seeking it.

They had planned it for weeks. The dark room, the ropes, and Vera waiting for them with that smile promising nothing easy or safe.

Rodrigo had arranged everything in secret: the suite, the candles, Marcos waiting on the sofa. He only asked if I was ready before opening the door.

When Dimitri called me over to watch my mother service him on her knees, something in me broke forever. Or maybe it was born.

Valeria felt the heat before she understood what it was. Pink smoke filled the cabin, and everything that was protocol turned into pure instinct.

She sat on the bench and held out her feet without saying a word. Only her eyes spoke, and what they said left no room for choice.

We’d been exchanging emails with Valeria for weeks. She wanted force and pressure. When she saw us pull up on our bikes, she knew she wouldn’t be disappointed.

We posted the ad out of curiosity. Two weeks later, a young guy was in our living room, trembling, about to put on a black lace dress.

Claudia showed up at her son’s place not knowing we were waiting. Work uniform, tired eyes. No one prepared her for what was coming.

She didn’t teach me out of love. She taught me because no one else was going to, and because, deep down, it was what we both needed.

Marcos was crying with rage in that adjustable bed, convinced he would never feel a woman again. I locked the door and took off my clothes.

She arrived with a backpack on her shoulder and a red pacifier between her lips. She had just turned twenty-two and laughed as if she already knew everything that would happen next.

When he closed the door with his suitcase, we were left alone. The sex was still there, intense and familiar, but something was missing. Something only he brought.

I came home without showering, wearing yesterday’s clothes and another man’s smell on my skin. Marcos knew it before I said a word.

I knew he’d come home late and jealous. I waited in the kitchen in black lace. When the door opened, I knew the night was just beginning.