I'm Yours

It started with a message from Lacey, like so many of our evenings lately. What began as a shared secret between us--our night together, raw and unforgettable--had bloomed into something more. Most nights we messaged for hours, swapping fantasies, laughing over awkward moments from our past, admitting turn-ons we'd never told anyone before.

Some of our best conversations were about self-bondage.

We confessed to elaborate setups, times we got stuck, the thrill of that moment when we didn't know if we'd get free. It was vulnerability and control, wrapped in silk and leather. We shared photos--her in a tight hogtie with her favorite pink ball gag, me in stockings and cuffs, trapped in front of a mirror. I could still remember how she moaned when I sent that one.

We started teasing harder. She loved the idea of denial, of control. She wanted to explore chastity, humiliation, public play. We weren't even sure what that last one meant exactly, but the mystery only made it hotter.

One night, her message buzzed through:

Lacey: You know I've been thinking... It's time you gave up control for a night. You've had your fun. I want to see you squirm. Literally.

I didn't hesitate.

Me: I trust you.

Lacey: Good. Because when I visit in a few weeks... You'll feel everything I felt. And more. There'll be a package. Don't open it until I say. Promise?

Me: Promise.

---

A week before she was due to arrive, it came: a plain cardboard box on my doorstep. No name. No branding. Nothing to hint at what was inside.

My heart hammered as I picked it up, heavier than I expected. I sent her a photo.

Me: It's here.

Lacey: DON'T OPEN IT. Or I'll cancel everything.

Me: You're evil.

Lacey: I'm your evil. And I'm going to make this the best night of your life. You'll thank me. Eventually.

The wait was agony. Every night we messaged, she added more mystery. Little hints.

"You're going to be so pretty."

"I hope you're flexible."

"You'll be begging by the time I touch you."

---

Finally, the night arrived.

I was pacing in the living room when the message lit up my screen.

Lacey:

Have a shower.

Shave your legs.

Open the box.

I'll see you at 8pm.

My throat went dry.

I stripped down, stepping into the hot shower. I let the water wash over me, trying to steady my nerves. This was real now. Not just talk. I shaved carefully, slowly, imagining her hands inspecting me, approving. Her voice teasing me.

I dried off, wrapped in a towel, and stared at the box on the bed.

This was it.

I sliced the tape and lifted the lid.

My breath caught.

Inside was the most beautiful lingerie I'd ever seen. A delicate bra and panty set, deep burgundy with gold accents. The panties were soft and smooth, barely there. Matching garter belt. Sheer silk stockings that shimmered in the light. I ran my fingers over them in disbelief. Expensive. Elegant. Chosen for me.

Underneath was a sleek black silicone butt plug, slightly thicker than the one I used at home. It had a gold base... with a charging port. And no remote.

Oh no.

Oh fuck.

She had the remote.

Of course she did.

I was already hard--aching against the towel, and I hadn't even touched myself.

---

I got dressed slowly. The lingerie slid on like a second skin. The stockings hugged my smooth legs as I clipped them into the garter. The panties barely contained my bulge--it twitched and strained, the fabric brushing every sensitive nerve.

Then came the plug.

I lubed it up, breathing heavily, and slid it in. It stretched me more than I was used to--enough to make me gasp--but it felt... good. Full. Exposed.

She hadn't even arrived yet, and I already felt submissive. On edge. Waiting.

The clock ticked closer to 8.

I dimmed the lights, cleaned the apartment, lit a candle in the bedroom. Something soft played on the speakers, but I couldn't even hear it over the thudding of my heart.

At 7:59, there was a knock at the door.

---

The knock at the door echoed louder than it should have. I froze, heart in my throat. Part of me still couldn't believe this was happening. That she was real. That she wanted this as much as I did.

I stepped to the door slowly, barefoot, dressed in the softest, sexiest thing I'd ever worn--because she picked it. I opened the door.

And there she was.

Lacey.

In a black leather jacket, tight jeans, boots that gave her a quiet authority, and a smile that melted me in place. Her eyes flicked down my body as she stepped inside, the door closing softly behind her. For a moment, she just looked at me.

Let it all settle.

Then she leaned in, kissed my cheek, and whispered, "You look beautiful."

I almost melted.

She stepped back, shrugging off her jacket and revealing the simple fitted tank top underneath. Her figure was striking--confident, effortless--and yet her eyes held something more tonight. Warmth. Curiosity. Hunger. Control.

"Turn around," she said gently, brushing her fingers across my hip.

I obeyed.

Her hands slid up my sides, then over my chest. She cupped the bra-covered mounds I'd padded slightly, her thumbs circling slowly over the delicate fabric. I gasped.

"Mmm. Good fit," she murmured. "This... this is exactly how I imagined you. All dolled up. Plug in?"

I nodded, swallowing.

She slipped her hand between my thighs and cupped me from behind. "So obedient already."

I moaned as she applied a little pressure to the plug's base and smirked when my body twitched in response.

"Shh," she whispered. "We're just getting started. Tonight, I'm in charge. But I'm not cruel. Not yet."

She led me into the living room with a gentle hand on my lower back. "Sit for me," she said, motioning to the couch.

I sat, legs pressed together instinctively, the stockings catching the soft light.

Lacey settled beside me, close, but not touching yet. She crossed her legs and turned slightly to face me, studying me like I was a gift she'd just unwrapped.

"You're nervous," she said softly, her hand resting on my thigh. "Good. You should be."

She leaned in and kissed me--slow, teasing, her tongue barely brushing mine. She didn't deepen it. Not yet. Just enough to leave me leaning forward when she pulled away.

"I want to take my time with you tonight," she said. "Help you really feel what it's like to give up control. Not just your body--but your attention. Your choices. Your orgasms."

I swallowed hard.

She grinned. "I like that look."

Her fingers traced higher up my thigh, brushing along the edge of my panties. My cock jumped under her touch.

"Oh. You're aching, aren't you?" she teased. "All dressed up, stuffed full, and already desperate for me."

I nodded. Whispered, "Yes."

Her hand slipped down and pressed firmly on the plug, and I gasped aloud. She laughed softly.

"I've had this remote all day," she said, producing it from her pocket and holding it up. "I've been so tempted to test it while you were in the shower. But I wanted to see your face."

She clicked a button, and the plug vibrated to life inside me.

I gasped, body jolting.

She leaned in. "Let me see you breathe through it."

It wasn't overpowering--just enough to tease me, buzz through my core, make me feel helpless in the most delicious way. She turned it off just as suddenly.

"You don't come tonight," she said softly. "Not until I say. You'll do everything I ask, and maybe, if you're very good, I'll let you earn your release."

Her fingers slid up to my jaw, tilting my face toward hers.

"Do you want this?" she asked, serious now. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," I whispered. "I want this."

"Good," she said, her voice suddenly softer. "Because I'm going to take very good care of you."

She stood, walking slowly around behind me, her fingertips brushing my shoulders, my neck, the edge of the bra. She leaned down to kiss my nape, her lips feather-light.

"Let's get you on your knees."

I slid off the couch, kneeling on the plush rug. Lacey stood before me now, tall, confident, looking down at me like she owned me. And in this moment... she did.

She cupped my face in her hand. "Stay still."

I held my breath.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a soft black collar. Sleek. Feminine. With a little D-ring in front. She fastened it around my neck slowly, then stepped back to admire.

"That's better," she said.

I felt it. A shift. A click. I wasn't in control anymore.

She knelt in front of me now, inches away, eyes level with mine. "You're doing so well already," she said softly. "You're so present. You feel it, don't you?"

I nodded, too overcome to speak.

"Let go," she whispered. "You're mine now."

And when she kissed me this time, it was different. Deeper. Hungrier. Her fingers buried in my hair, her body pressing close. I melted into it, submitting to her rhythm.

When she pulled back, I was trembling.

"Good girl," she murmured. "Now let's get you truly helpless."

She rose slowly, reaching into her overnight bag again. "Hands behind your back."

I obeyed, still kneeling on the rug, my hands slipping together at the small of my back. I heard the soft jingle of buckles before I felt the soft leather slide over my wrists.

"Do you remember how it felt," she murmured, "when you bound me up that night? When I was squirming, helpless under your control?"

I nodded.

"Good. Because it's your turn."

She buckled my wrists together snugly--tight enough to remind me I wasn't going anywhere, but not cruel. I pulled at them instinctively. The sound of leather creaking between my arms made my cock throb against the silk of my panties. I knew she saw it.

"Oh, poor thing," she cooed mockingly. "So sensitive already. We'll take care of that later. Maybe."

Her fingers ghosted up my sides, over my nipples through the bra cups. I sucked in a breath as she pinched one gently.

"That lingerie," she said, circling me now, her boots thudding softly on the rug, "was picked to make you feel vulnerable. Elegant. Beautiful."

I could barely think. The restraint, the vibration earlier, the plug still nestled firmly inside me--it was all combining into this overwhelming haze of submission. Of need.

Lacey knelt again in front of me, and I could see the shift in her now--more than playful. She was in it. Focused. Intent.

She reached back into her bag and brought out a black silk ribbon. Simple. Soft. But symbolic.

She leaned in, kissed me softly, then tied the ribbon over my eyes.

"I want you to feel everything without watching it happen," she whispered into my ear. "Every touch, every moment, with no warning."

I trembled.

"Tell me your safeword."

"Velvet," I whispered.

"Good. Use it if you need it. Otherwise, you belong to me now."

The next minutes were a blur of sensation. Her touch--light, then firm. Her voice, moving around me. She guided me to stand, gently, then walked me toward the bedroom. I couldn't see, but I trusted her completely. That trust was the most erotic thing in the world.

She helped me onto the bed, face down, my arms still bound. I felt her adjusting pillows, positioning me slowly.

"Spread your knees," she said softly. I obeyed, feeling cool air brush over my thighs.

Then: the vibrator.

It started on low, pressed through my silk panties. I gasped, squirming immediately. The plug inside me made it impossible to not feel every vibration tenfold.

"Stay still," she said, slapping my thigh lightly. "Don't hump the wand like a needy little thing. We're going slow."

She circled it. Teased me. Pulled it away when I moaned too loud.

"You're dripping through the panties," she said, voice dripping with amusement. "Pathetic."

I whimpered. My cock was so hard it hurt. I wanted to grind down against the bed, hump anything. But I couldn't--not without risking her wrath.

Then she turned the wand up.

I sobbed.

"I could make you come like this," she whispered. "I could tease you until you explode in those panties like a messy little sissy slut..."

I moaned--embarrassed, aroused, helpless.

"...but I won't. Not yet."

She stopped the wand entirely, and I whimpered in frustration.

"Oh my god," she laughed. "You're so close already. You poor thing."

She leaned in and kissed my shoulder, untied the blindfold gently.

"I want you to see what you look like. What I did to you."

When the light hit my eyes again, I could barely believe what I saw in the mirror opposite the bed: me, flushed, bound, lingerie half askew, ass in the air, leaking through silk. And Lacey--smiling like a cat with cream.

"You're mine tonight," she said. "And I'm just getting started."

Lacey untied my wrists and ankles one by one with a tenderness that contrasted with the wicked glint in her eye. "I need you in a better position," she said, brushing her fingers through my hair. "More... available."

She moved around the room with calm purpose, retrieving items from her bag--four black leather cuffs lined with soft fleece, wide and firm. She fitted each one to my limbs with care, buckling them snugly but not painfully. I was already panting in anticipation, the contrast of firm leather against my bare skin sending a rush of submissive excitement through me.

One by one, she clipped each cuff to the corners of the bedframe with carabiners and lengths of black nylon strap she adjusted with practiced ease. My arms stretched above my head, my legs splayed and exposed. I tested the restraints--there was no give. I was utterly at her mercy.

She stood at the foot of the bed, her gaze drinking me in. "You look beautiful like that," she murmured.

Then, slowly, deliberately, she began to undress.

First, her top came off, revealing a stunning black bra--silk and lace, structured cups with golden buckles at the straps. It hugged her body perfectly, highlighting her curves and the strength behind them. She let her pants fall next, stepping out of them with a flick of her hips to reveal matching panties, high-waisted with gold hardware along the sides that caught the soft light of the room.

She looked like a goddess. Powerful. Dangerous. Mine.

No--I was hers.

She crawled up the bed slowly, her eyes locked with mine. I couldn't move, but I didn't want to. I only wanted to watch her move, own me, take her time.

Lacey straddled my chest, her knees planted firmly on either side. Her scent, the heat from her skin, the feeling of her weight on me--it made my pulse thrum.

Her fingers traced down my chest, then rested over my racing heart.

"How are you feeling?" she asked softly, her tone grounding me again.

"Completely yours," I said. "This... this is a fantasy I've had for a long time. To be like this. Helpless. Owned. Safe."

Her eyes softened even more at that. She leaned down and kissed me, deeply.

"Do you trust me?" she asked, her lips still brushing mine.

"With everything."

"Good," she whispered. "Then let go. You don't have to do anything now except feel."

She sat back up, still on my chest, one hand gently stroking my cheek.

"Is there anything you want to try tonight? Anything you're curious about?"

I hesitated for a moment, heart pounding. Then: "I'd like to try the clover clamps. I... want you to be a bit rough. I want to feel it. I want to know I'm yours."

A slow, wicked smile spread across her face.

"You're so good for me," she said. "So honest. That's why I'm going to make this unforgettable. But we'll build up to the clamps. You're not getting off that easy."

She slid forward on her knees, her powerful thighs framing my face now, the sheer lace of her panties just above my mouth.

"First, you can show me how much you want to serve."

I looked up at her, completely bound, completely surrendered. She reached down and brushed my hair from my forehead, then guided my head gently upward.

"Worship me."

And I did.

Her thighs tightened slightly around my head as I pleasured her through the fabric of her panties, each slow motion of my tongue rewarded with soft, breathy moans from above. She rocked gently, guiding my rhythm, one hand tangled in my hair, the other resting lightly on my chest as though to remind me she was in charge of every inch of me.

"You're so eager," she whispered. "I could get used to this."

I whimpered beneath her, the ache in my cock intensifying, the lingerie doing nothing to hide the tension straining against the silky fabric. The butt plug inside me pulsed now and then--Lacey's doing, no doubt--and every buzz made my hips jerk, desperate for friction I couldn't find.

Just as I felt her begin to tense, she pulled away.

"Not yet," she said, climbing off me slowly. Her voice had an edge now--teasing, but firm. "You don't get to make me come until I decide you've earned it."

She sat beside me on the bed, looking over my body like an artist studying a canvas. Then she reached for something at the bedside--a small black velvet pouch.

I swallowed hard. I already knew what was inside.

Lacey opened the pouch with purpose, then held the clover clamps up in front of my eyes, letting the cold metal glint under the light.

"You still want these?"

I nodded.

"Use your words, sweetheart."

"Yes, please... I want them. I want to feel it."

"Good boy."

She climbed back over me, letting the clamps hang between her fingers like a threat and a promise. She leaned in close to my ear. "You're going to beg to come by the time I'm done. But you won't. Not until I say."

Her fingers ghosted over my nipples, teasing them until they hardened. I gasped, even before the first clamp bit down.

A sharp spike of pain shot through me as the cold metal bit my skin. My hips jolted against the restraints. The pain was exquisite--clean, focused, undeniably real. The second clamp followed, and I whimpered beneath her, overwhelmed.

Lacey watched my face, gauging every reaction. Her hand gently cupped my cheek again.

"Still with me?"

"Yes," I breathed. "It's intense. But perfect."

She smiled and kissed my forehead. "You're mine now," she whispered. "And mine doesn't get to come just because he's aching. Mine waits."

She sat back and admired her work--me, stretched wide, fully exposed, cock twitching in silk panties, nipples clamped and pulled forward slightly by a delicate silver chain.

Then she picked up the wand.

"I want to see how desperate you can get," she said, trailing it down my body, letting it hum just over the fabric of my underwear without pressing in. "I want to see you beg."

The first contact made me cry out--already so sensitive, already so far gone.

She teased me cruelly, bringing me to the edge again and again. My thighs shook. I strained against the cuffs. Each time I got close, she pulled the wand away and just watched me squirm.

"Say it," she whispered. "Say you're my toy."

"I'm your toy."

"Say you belong to me."

"I belong to you."

Her fingers gripped my chin, forcing me to look into her eyes. "Say you'll do anything I say."

"Anything," I gasped. "Please, Lacey--anything."

She moved the wand again, slow, relentless.

But she didn't let me come.

Minutes passed. Or maybe hours--it felt like time had melted away beneath her. I was lost in her control, a mess of need, pain, heat, and love.

Finally, she climbed back onto the bed, over me again, that same powerful black lingerie hugging her body. She looked every bit the goddess she was--commanding, sensual, completely in control.

Her fingers toyed with the chain between the clamps, pulling slightly just to watch me twitch.

Then she leaned down, her lips brushing my ear.

"Still want to be mine?"

"Yes. Please. Always."

She kissed me again, then pressed the wand back against me harder than before. "Good. Then you're not allowed to come. Not until I take you in my mouth and make you beg. Understood?"