The Domination House

Diana

I already knew it was insane to be there.

Blindfolded, not even sure where I was stepping, relying only on my instincts... and a desire so intense it felt like it was burning inside my chest.

The air was thick with heat and the scent of leather mixed with something sweet. Maybe vanilla. Maybe sin.

My heels tapped softly against the wooden floor as I was led through endless corridors. I could hear faint whispers in the distance, low moans... and a shiver started crawling up my spine.

I was nothing but skin and nerves.

My heart was pounding so hard against my ribs it felt like it would break them—part fear, part lust.

When a large, firm hand touched my shoulder, I almost screamed.

But I couldn’t.

I shouldn’t.

It was part of the game.

I knew the rules. And I had agreed to all of them.

I felt his breath near my ear.

Warm. Heavy.

He didn’t say a word—he didn’t need to. His scent, clean and woody, invaded my senses and made every inch of my body pulse.

A wave of heat rushed between my legs from just that smell, from the presence that seemed to fill the entire damn room.

He turned me around slowly, and before I could even think, his fingers brushed the side of my exposed arm.

Gentle.

Almost teasing.

I shivered like a leaf in the wind.

The atmosphere felt like it was conspiring to drive me mad: dim lights, slow instrumental music playing in the background—a mix of jazz and sensual beats.

The air conditioning blew cool air that clashed with the heat rising off my skin.

I felt something soft graze the tips of my fingers... a feather.

I let out a small laugh, but it died in my throat when the feather slowly traced along my neck, over my shoulder, and down... down... to the edge of my dress.

My legs went weak instantly.

I wanted to throw myself into his arms.

But I knew...

I had to wait.

I had to feel it.

I had to surrender.

The first real jolt hit when he ran his fingers along my waist, tugging the fabric of my dress like he might rip it off—slowly, teasing.

I felt my skin heat up beneath the fabric.

My breathing turned heavy, and I didn’t even know his name.

Or rather... I didn’t want to.

Right here, right now, he was just a body.

A presence.

A hunger that mirrored mine.

When his fingertips grazed my inner thigh over the fabric, I almost crumbled.

Goosebumps exploded across my skin like fireworks.

He was playing with me.

And I was loving every fucking second of it.

He still hadn’t said a word.

And somehow, that turned me on even more.

Just his touch. Just his breath. Just the delicious tension building in the air like a bomb about to go off.

Suddenly, he grabbed my face with a firm hand—rough fingers, warm palm—and tilted my head back.

My neck was exposed, vulnerable... and I felt every drop of sweat slide down my spine.

That’s when he leaned closer, so close I felt the heat of his mouth without even touching.

My skin begged.

I begged, even in silence.

And finally, his lips touched my throat.

It wasn’t a kiss.

It was an attack.

A soft bite, followed by a slow, deep suck that made me moan quietly, trembling in his arms.

My hands, tied behind my back, could only grasp at nothing.

I was entirely his now.

His tongue traced down my neck, licking the curve, trailing lower until he reached the neckline of my dress.

And when his hot mouth found the valley between my breasts, I nearly lost what little control I had left.

“Fuck…” I whispered without even realizing it.

He laughed—a low, raspy, sexy sound that vibrated against my skin.

Driving me crazier, needier, wetter.

With every new touch, every new bite, my body lit up like a damn bonfire.

My nipples hardened under the thin fabric of the dress, and he noticed.

Of course he noticed.

Without warning, he pulled one strap of my dress to the side and trapped my nipple between his teeth, sucking hard.

This time, my moan came out loud.

Fuck it.

Let them hear.

I was just flesh, lust, and a burning need for more.

I felt my panties soaking, clinging to my skin, and I almost writhed with how badly I needed him.

He ran his hand along the side of my thigh, slowly, so damn slowly, until he found the edge of my panties.

And there, he stopped.

His hand just rested there—hot, almost cruel—as if he wanted to drive me insane with anticipation.

I bit my lip, trying to hold back, but my breathing was pure desperation. A silent plea for him to do something.

Anything.

Take me.

Own me.

Fuck me until I forgot my own name.

I was in his hands.

Blind.

Surrendered.

And loving every damn second of it.

He pulled my dress up slowly, savoring the hunger. The fabric slid up my body until it was gone, leaving me in just my panties and blindfolded, completely exposed.

Without a word, he guided me to a soft bench and sat me down. Before I could process what was happening, I felt my hands being restrained—I had no idea where or how—I just knew I was no longer in control.

And, strangely, that made me smile. Almost laugh, from pure arousal.

His breath was hot against my skin as he yanked my panties in one swift, aggressive motion, tearing the fabric like it was just another barrier between us.

A rough moan escaped my throat, uncontrollable. My body was already trembling with anticipation, but he wasn’t done.

I felt his strong hands grip my legs, one at a time, tying each one to the ends of the bench. I was completely exposed, vulnerable... and ridiculously turned on.

Every second in that position made me more open, more ready to be devoured. And even without seeing him, I could feel his hunger pressed against my skin.

Then I felt the first strike—a soft, warm whip that caught me off guard. The lash hit my nipples and traveled down to my pussy, making my whole body shudder.

I couldn’t see a thing, but my body knew: it was intense, deliberate, meant to drive me crazy.

Each time the leather touched my skin, my pussy throbbed with wild hunger. It was like every strike whispered, “You’re mine.”

I moaned uncontrollably—loud, dirty, desperate moans. There was no pretending here, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t need to.

The pleasure pulled sounds from me I didn’t even know I could make.

It was raw, rough, real.

My eyes filled with tears—not from pain, but from a need so deep it burned in my chest.

Every new lash made me wetter, wilder, more surrendered.

I twisted in place, tied up, whispering in a hoarse plea for him to end this delicious torture and take me, fuck me, consume me completely.

The desire was so overwhelming that nothing else existed: just my body, the delicious pain, and the insane urge to be his.

Then I felt him getting closer. His hot breath brushed across my stomach, sending chills straight to my spine.

His large hands started to explore my body with wicked calm, like he was memorizing every inch of me by touch.

When he squeezed my breasts, I let out a low, shameless moan.

I barely had time to process it before he buried his face between my legs like a starving animal.

His tongue was sin itself.

Fast, hot, licking and sucking every inch of my pussy like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.

I clung to the bench, tied down and completely at his mercy, feeling the pleasure hit me so hard it was almost terrifying.

Each lick made my hips move on their own, wanting more, needing everything.

It was the first time anyone had even put their mouth there—and my God, I was gone.

The sensation was so intense, I couldn’t think straight.

There was only his tongue, the heat, and my body exploding in waves of pleasure I didn’t even know existed.

It was all too much, and I gave in.

I came hard, screaming with pleasure—but he didn’t stop.

He kept going like a ravenous beast who wouldn’t let go of his prey.

I kept moaning and shaking from pleasure until he finally stood up and untied my legs.

I crossed them, exhausted and satisfied.

But then I heard something that made me freeze in place.