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?"

"Yes, Lacey..."

Lacey knelt between my thighs, her breath warm against the inside of my legs as she slowly peeled the panties down to expose my aching cock. I was trembling, the clamps on my nipples making even the smallest motion feel electric, the butt plug inside me gently pulsing every so often from her unseen control. I was already on the edge--desperate, ruined, aching--and she hadn't even really started yet.

Her lips wrapped around me.

A soft moan escaped me--half pleasure, half relief--and my hips jerked instinctively. Lacey's hand pinned my thigh down. "Don't move," she said sternly before resuming her slow, torturous rhythm.

She sucked with deliberate care, letting her tongue circle the tip, taking just enough of me to keep me gasping. I was close already. I'd been teetering for what felt like hours. And now, here she was--beautiful, merciless, in control--holding me on the precipice and doing everything but pushing me over.

"Please..." I breathed. "Please let me..."

She stopped.

I groaned, the loss of her mouth more painful than the clamps, than the plug. My hips trembled in the cuffs, trying uselessly to chase her warmth.

Lacey looked up at me, lips glistening, her eyes filled with wicked joy. "I've heard enough," she said.

She reached into her bag and pulled something out. My breath caught.

A pink ball gag.

Soft silicone, wide leather strap. Cute. Humiliating. Firm.

She brought it to my lips, dragging the ball across them slowly. "Open."

I did. I wanted this--I wanted all of it.

She pushed the gag into my mouth and buckled it tight behind my head. "There," she said sweetly. "Now you can moan all you want, but I don't have to hear your begging."

She slid the panties back up over my swollen cock. "I like how it looks there," she whispered, "all straining and useless and wrapped in something pretty."

Then she reached into her bag again and pulled out the crop.

It was sleek, black leather, short and flexible, with a small heart-shaped tip at the end. It fluttered through the air as she flicked it experimentally, letting it whistle.

"You said you wanted it rough," she said, straddling my thighs. "That you wanted to feel like you were really mine. Well, I believe in keeping promises."

She pressed a button on her phone and the plug inside me buzzed to life--stronger now, pulsing in deliberate waves. I gasped through the gag, my muscles tightening involuntarily.

Lacey laughed softly. "That good, huh?"

The first tap of the crop landed on my thigh. Light. Testing.

Then another. And another.

She worked her way up my body, trailing the leather over my chest, flicking it teasingly over my nipples--making the clamps jolt with every touch.

"Mm, sensitive," she mused, watching my body writhe in the restraints. "Do you know what I love most right now? The way you can't hide anything. Not a single reaction. You're exposed. Trapped. Mine."

She let the crop drag gently over my bulge, tapping the panties just enough to make my cock twitch. Then harder. A sharper sting.

I moaned into the gag.

"I could do anything to you right now," she said, her voice lower, darker, the crop stroking over my chest again. "I could walk out the door and leave you like this until morning. Or I could take you to a park... tie you to a bench... let someone find you just like this. Can you imagine it?"

She moved the crop to my side, tapping lightly, then snapping harder. I jerked, helpless to escape.

"Or maybe I rent a stage," she purred, sitting beside me now, leaning over my ear. "Spotlight, crowd, music... and I bring you out in a cute little pink frilly dress. Arms bound behind you, cock locked in chastity, a tag around your neck that says 'Please use me.'"

The plug pulsed harder. My body bucked.

She giggled. "You like that thought? You like being my little stage toy?"

I moaned, frantic, eyes rolling back.

"Maybe I should get a leash," she continued, her voice syrupy and cruel. "Take you for a walk in the neighborhood. Show off my pretty little bitch. People would stare. They'd whisper. But you wouldn't be able to run. You'd just follow me... in heels, maybe. With bells on your cuffs."

The crop tapped my nipple again--then snapped.

I screamed into the gag, overwhelmed, desperate, and harder than I'd ever been.

"Aw, poor baby," she said, kissing my cheek. "You wanted this. You asked for this."

Lacey stood above me now, the crop still in her hand, her eyes devouring every inch of my restrained body. My breath came in desperate, ragged bursts behind the gag. I was trembling--utterly, hopelessly at her mercy. The plug inside me buzzed relentlessly, each pulse synced with the racing of my heart, the tight clamps on my nipples swinging gently with every breath. My cock strained painfully against the silky panties, aching for contact.

Then, slowly, she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra.

My eyes widened.

Her breasts spilled free--soft, perfect, proud. Her nipples were already stiff, flushed with arousal, and she made sure I watched as she brushed her fingertips over them, teasing herself while she straddled my hips.

"Like what you see?" she said, her voice thick with desire. "You should. You've earned it."

She slid her hand down between her legs, fingers disappearing beneath the black panties she wore for a moment--then reappearing, slick and glistening.

She rubbed herself slowly, deliberately, her other hand fondling her breast, twisting the nipple until she moaned softly. She held my gaze the whole time, watching me suffer--bound, gagged, shaking.

"I'm soaked," she whispered. "You did this. Watching you struggle like that... it's fucking irresistible."

I groaned, the sound muffled and pathetic. My entire body bucked toward her, restrained by the spread eagle hold--helpless and desperate.

She leaned forward, straddling me again, breasts brushing against my chest as she reached behind my head and unbuckled the gag.

The moment it was out, I gasped for air, lips aching, tongue dry.

"Tell me what you're feeling," she whispered, tracing her fingers along my jaw. "Tell me what you want."

"Lacey..." I breathed. "I need you. Please. Please ride me. I want to feel you... please--"

She kissed me hard, swallowing the rest of my begging.

Then she leaned back and stood up, hooking her thumbs under the band of her panties and sliding them down her thighs slowly, deliberately.

Her scent hit me immediately--thick and intoxicating.

She climbed back over me, her knees planted on either side of my waist now. She reached between us, sliding the panties down just enough to expose my cock, still rigid and trapped in satin. She pulled the fabric aside, freeing me. The sudden air on my swollen shaft made me hiss through my teeth.

Then she lined herself up.

"I want your cock," she said, her voice almost shaking now. "I need to feel you inside me."

She slid down in one smooth motion.

We both cried out.

Her tight, wet heat enveloped me, every inch of her taking me in like I belonged there. Her hands rested on my chest, her nails dragging lightly across my skin. My cuffs strained, my back arched, my voice caught in my throat.

"Fuck," she gasped, hips rocking. "You feel... incredible."

Her rhythm started slow. Grinding. Deep. She leaned forward, bracing herself on my chest--and instinctively, cruelly, pulled on the chain between the nipple clamps.

I screamed.

The pain sparked through my chest, colliding with the overwhelming pleasure between us.

She laughed breathlessly. "Oh, baby... I forgot how pretty you are when you're right on the edge."

She kept riding--faster now, her moans rising in pitch. My eyes locked onto hers, wide and desperate, every thrust sending me deeper into the haze. I could feel her tightening around me, her muscles clenching with every bounce, every grind.

Her fingers found mine--bound, stretched--and squeezed them. "Come with me," she gasped. "Come for me now."

I didn't stand a chance.

I exploded inside her, my whole body seizing with the force of it. Lacey cried out in perfect unison, collapsing against me as her orgasm ripped through her, her hips still grinding, milking every drop from me.

We stayed like that--her on top of me, sweaty, trembling, laughing softly into my neck.

Eventually, she reached up and gently unhooked the clamps, each one drawing a fresh moan from my lips as the blood rushed back.

She kissed me, long and slow. "You did so well," she whispered.

My body was completely spent, limp and useless in the restraints. But my heart--my heart was full. I'd given her everything, and she'd taken it, honored it, made it unforgettable.

She kissed my cheek, then my jaw, before slowly lifting herself up. With the softest of smiles, she began undoing the cuffs--starting with my ankles, then my wrists. Each touch was warm, tender, reverent.

When I was finally free, she lay beside me, her body curling into mine. We were quiet at first, nothing but the sound of our breathing syncing as we recovered. She nestled her head against my shoulder and ran her fingers slowly down my arm, grounding me with every stroke.

"That," she said softly, her voice a mix of awe and wonder, "was incredible."

I smiled, my heart still thudding with a mix of adrenaline and affection. "Yeah... it really was."

"I've never felt that powerful before," she continued, eyes lifting to meet mine. "Seeing you like that--gagged, spread open, desperate... it was intoxicating. I've never been that turned on in my life."

I wrapped an arm around her, pulled her closer. "You were amazing, Lacey. The way you read me... the way you took control. You made me feel so safe. So wanted."

Her eyes sparkled at the compliment. But then a little smirk tugged at her lips, followed by a faint, thoughtful hum.

"What?" I asked, brushing her hair back behind her ear.

She hesitated--then bit her lip. "Okay, this is going to sound silly. But... I was so turned on, so in charge... and it was amazing, don't get me wrong. But a tiny part of me was jealous."

I blinked. "Jealous?"

She nodded slowly. "Jealous that you were the only one tied up. The only one gagged. The only one helpless and used. Watching you squirm under my touch, hearing your muffled begging... God, it lit something up in me. But it also made me remember how good it felt when I was the one in your ropes."

My cock twitched faintly at the thought, even after everything.

"So what you're saying is..." I teased, my voice low, "you're craving surrender again?"

She flushed, then grinned. "Yeah. I want to be yours again. I want you to tie me down so tightly I can't move an inch. I want to be gagged, teased, denied. Used. I want to beg for your cock. I want you to make me scream."

She looked up at me, her eyes hungry now.

"I want to feel what you felt tonight. That vulnerability. That helplessness. But with your hands, your words, your control."

My fingers tightened gently around her waist. "Lacey," I whispered, "you have no idea how much I've missed having you bound and writhing beneath me."

"Then take me soon," she whispered, pulling my hand up to her chest, guiding it over her still-sensitive nipple. "Take everything back. I'm yours."

We lay there like that for a while longer--entwined, our bodies buzzing from the intensity of what we'd just shared and the promise of what was to come.

Eventually, she dozed off against my chest, still bare and beautiful, the faintest smile on her lips.