Submission

I never saw him in person. I only needed my words, a candlelit altar, and the certainty that a man can kneel before someone who will never return the gesture.

I gave him thirty days to prove he was good for something. On the first night I wouldn’t let him touch himself: only light a candle, obey, and wait for my punishment.

She stepped onto the stage in a red dress and with an impossible voice. She had no idea that singing that well was the trap her producer would use to cage her forever.

When I got to the cabin, there were only thirty men in suits and a drink waiting for me. It didn’t take long to understand why they’d paid me so much.

She laughed at them, naked and victorious, convinced she had used them. She never saw the hatred grow in their eyes until it was too late.

There was only one thing they were forbidden to do to me, and it was exactly the one thing I wanted while they used me for an entire month.

She laughed at my jokes, touched my arm, and I thought I had her in the bag. I never imagined she’d be the one taking control that night in the hotel room.

I hadn’t touched anyone in two years when she answered my message with one question: “when are we meeting?” I never imagined how that night would end.

I practiced in front of the mirror for weeks. The night I packed the dress into my backpack, I knew there was no turning back: this time it would be real.

Chiara pedaled right behind him on every climb, and every stop in the shade was a new excuse to get closer than necessary.

I was in my pajamas, coffee half-finished and a scorching novel in my hands, when I heard his key in the door and knew that morning wouldn’t end with reading.

We crossed the ocean to celebrate our twenty-first birthdays with them. When we came downstairs dressed, the two of them were waiting, and I knew nothing would ever be the same.

Andrés was fifty-three and his marriage was broken when she brushed his hand with her red nails and whispered in his ear not to fear exploring.

I left the gym without showering, just as he’d asked. That afternoon I discovered that obeying another man could give me more pleasure than taking charge.

We’d hated each other for ages and wanted to kill each other. What I didn’t expect was to end up taking his cock all the way inside me while the car fell to pieces under us.

I love the exact moment when a man realizes he’ll only touch my feet if he obeys. That afternoon, Mateo learned it on his knees, breathless.

I spent a year cleaning his house without him ever looking me in the eye. The afternoon I took off my shoes by the pool, I discovered he’d been staring at my feet for months.

I was alone in my friend’s apartment when I saw her sandals by the sofa. I knew I shouldn’t touch them, but that night I found out what I’d do for a secret I’d never confess.

Kneeling in the park, blindfolded and barefoot on the grass, I understood that I no longer decided anything: he had the key, and I had stopped looking for it.

He asked me not to wash before I went. I thought it would be just another whim, but that night I found out how far my own shame could go.