DISCLAIMER: This is my first ever story, it's short and only about a specific scene, I am open to feedback and definitely plan on expanding on this story both before and after this scene. Enjoy!
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Faye and Drew have been together for two years--madly in love, perfectly in sync. From the outside, everything looks balanced. But behind closed doors, Drew's been hiding a fantasy he never had the courage to speak aloud: he wants to be owned. Controlled. Used. Not by just anyone--by Faye.
When he finally tells her, something shifts. She's unsure at first... but it doesn't take long for her to realize that dominance fits her like a second skin. She loves control. Loves being worshipped. And she's ready to explore what it means to take the lead--in her way
This is the story of their first ever ''session'' where the balance of powers switches for real
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Drew knelt in the bedroom, his knees sinking into the plush rug, naked but for the anticipation thrumming beneath his skin. The lamp cast a warm, amber glow across the room, and every second that passed made the quiet hum of tension in his chest grow sharper.
The bathroom door was still closed.
He had imagined this night a hundred times--fantasized in silence, buried his wants for years. Faye had always been the center of them, though. Not some generic Domme from the internet. Her. Her voice, her gaze, her sharpness, her affection--wrapped in a presence that could command a room with a look. It had taken him two years to confess it. Two years to hand her the key.
And she had taken it.
He heard the door click open.
His breath caught.
Faye stepped out slowly, the soft squeak of latex announcing her before he even looked up. She wore a tight black latex dress that hugged her waist and hips like it was painted on. Thigh-high stockings shone like liquid night, and the glint of stilettos caught the light with each step. Her long gloves smoothed up her arms, completing the silhouette--powerful, sleek, surreal. Like a sculpture come to life.
She paused in front of him. He looked up, dazed. The woman he adored now towered above him, more unreal and more herself than he'd ever seen her.
"You're staring," she said, one brow lifting.
"I can't help it," he murmured. "You look... unbelievable."
A pause. Then, softly but firmly: "Then show me."
He hesitated just long enough for her to take a single step forward. The tip of her heel tapped gently against his thigh.
"I said show me, Drew."
That command flipped a switch in him. He lowered his head, pressing his lips to the gleaming toe of her shoe. A kiss. Then another, slightly higher, just where the latex met the arch of her foot. The rubber was warm, molded to her skin, and each press of his mouth left the barest trace of breath on its surface.
She watched him with a strange mix of curiosity and blooming authority. "Slower," she said. "This isn't a sprint."
His lips moved in slower succession now, trailing up the outer edge of her foot, then across her ankle where the curve softened, feminine and strong beneath the latex. She let him worship in silence for a moment, savoring how natural this felt--him at her feet, her in command.
"I never knew," she said after a beat, "that I'd like this."
Drew glanced up, lips parted, hands still gently cradling her ankle.
"But now that I'm here..." she continued, stepping forward so her shin brushed his cheek, "I can't imagine not claiming you like this."
His eyes fluttered closed at the contact. "It feels right," he whispered.
Faye reached down and ran gloved fingers through his hair--not gently, but not cruelly either. A guiding touch. A claiming touch.
"You've always needed this, haven't you?"
He nodded. "Always."
"Good." Her voice dipped into something darker, smoother. "Then you'll take your time with me. You'll learn every inch."
She extended one leg slightly to the side, and he followed the cue, beginning a slow ascent with his mouth. He kissed along the edge of her shin, then higher, to the swell of her calf beneath the latex. His fingers stayed behind his back now, honoring the shift in power, letting her guide every move with silence and subtlety.
"You bought this dress for me," she said, watching him. "You imagined it, wrapped around my body while you knelt. Did you imagine how the latex would smell? How it would taste when I let you this close?"
"Yes, Mistress," he breathed, voice trembling.
The word slipped out naturally--half reverent, half raw. Faye's pulse quickened at the sound of it. She hadn't expected that word to hit quite so deep. But hearing it from his mouth, seeing the sincerity in his eyes--it landed like a promise.
She lifted her foot and pressed it gently against his bare chest. His muscles tensed beneath the pressure, but he didn't flinch. He leaned into it. Welcomed it.
"Your heart's racing," she murmured.
"I know."
"That's because you're mine now."
He let out a breathless sound, not quite a moan, but close. It was the sound of surrender.
She drew her foot down his chest slowly, the latex dragging over his skin with sensual precision. When she stepped forward again, he was practically nuzzling into her calf, his lips tracing lazy, reverent shapes over the curve of her leg.
"I thought this would feel strange," she said, her tone quieter now. "Being this... in charge of you. But it doesn't."
His hands trembled slightly where they rested behind his back.
"I've always liked control," she went on. "At work. In life. And now here--with you--there's something else. Something... beautiful about it."
She tilted his chin up, forcing him to look at her.
"And you. You look beautiful like this."
Drew's eyes glistened--not just with arousal, but something deeper. Gratitude. Trust.
"I want to make you proud," he said softly.
"You already have."
She stepped back a pace, letting his eyes roam over her again. He took her in as if seeing her anew--his lover, yes, but now elevated. Claimed. The woman who held him in her hand like a thread of silk.
"I'm going to take what I want," she said. "When I want it. And you'll give it. Willingly."
He swallowed. "Gladly, Mistress."
The title landed better this time. More certain. Like he was becoming something for her. And maybe, for himself.
Faye smiled--satisfied, centered, and newly awakened. She turned slightly, letting the light catch the curve of her hips, the line of her thighs in latex.
"I'm not done with you yet," she said, starting to walk toward the bed.
Drew stayed kneeling, breath shallow, eyes following her every movement like a man at prayer.
This was only the beginning.
He didn't answer. Just nodded.
Faye didn't look back as she walked toward the bed--she didn't have to. She felt Drew's eyes on her like hands, drinking in every sway of her hips, every whisper of latex. The heels of her stilettos clicked softly against the hardwood, punctuating the silence with her authority.
She stopped beside the bed and turned, one eyebrow raised.
"You're still kneeling," she said.
Drew blinked, startled out of his daze. "I--I didn't know if I was allowed to move."
Her lips curled. "Good answer."
She motioned with two fingers. "Come here."
He stood on shaky legs, desire and submission making his limbs feel half-borrowed. He crossed the room and stopped in front of her, hands loosely at his sides, eyes flicking to the floor. Faye reached out and touched his chest--just a single gloved fingertip tracing from his collarbone down to his sternum.
"You're tense," she said.
"A bit."
She gave a soft, knowing smile. "Good. I want you to feel this."
He swallowed.
Faye reached behind her and opened the top drawer of her nightstand. Drew's breath hitched as she revealed a slim, black silk tie--one of his, repurposed now. Her fingers trailed along it with idle affection, then held it up between them.
"Hands," she said.
He extended them without a word.
She bound his wrists gently but firmly, making sure it was snug--not enough to hurt, but enough to remind him. When she was done, she stepped back and took a moment to look at him fully--naked, bound, still holding eye contact even as nerves flickered in his breath.
There it was again. That push-pull in her chest. Power and care. Control and affection. She could see how much trust it took for him to stand here like this. And the fact that he did--because she asked--made her feel something far deeper than just arousal.
"Lie down," she said.
He hesitated only long enough to climb onto the bed and obey. She moved to the edge, one knee sinking into the mattress beside him, the latex of her stocking brushing his thigh. She leaned down slowly, her gloved hand resting on his chest again.
"You've given me control, haven't you?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Then you won't touch. You won't beg. You won't rush. You'll feel every second exactly how I allow it."
Drew exhaled through his nose, his entire body humming.
"Yes, Mistress."
She smiled, pleased with the way his voice cracked just slightly on the second word.
Her hand moved down his torso, teasing--just tracing, not touching anything that would bring relief. She explored with deliberate cruelty, fingers ghosting over the dips and curves of his abdomen, skipping just shy of where he ached for contact.
"You're already hard for me," she whispered, voice velvet-dark.
He let out a soft, choked sound. "Yes."
"And I haven't even really touched you."
"You don't have to."
That stopped her--just for a moment.
