YOURS TO GUIDE-MINE TO TRUST [Submissive view ~6.393 words]
I wake up to the soft warmth of sunlight streaming through the curtains, and the first thing I feel is you. Your presence is a quiet hum of comfort, grounding me before my eyes even open. The bed feels impossibly soft, and I’m cocooned in our shared haven—our sanctuary. I barely notice the room around me at first, too focused on the steady beat of your breathing beside me and the faint scent of you lingering in the sheets.
I shift slightly, my body still heavy with sleep, as I hear your voice—low and soothing, wrapping around me like a gentle caress. "Good morning, my love," you whisper, and the sound alone melts something inside me. I murmur something half-formed, instinctively turning toward you, seeking the warmth and safety I know only you can give. I feel your lips brush against my temple, and my heart stirs even before my body fully does.
"Time to get up, baby. I’ve got everything ready for you." Your words are so soft, so assured, and they fill me with a sense of peace I haven’t felt all week. The kind of peace only you can provide.
When my eyes finally flutter open, the first thing I notice is the golden glow bathing the room. The space feels alive with quiet intimacy, like it’s holding its breath just for us. I glance toward the window, the curtains slightly parted just enough to let the morning light kiss the wooden floors. Everything about this room feels like us. The books we’ve shared, the small treasures scattered throughout—a pressed flower, a photo, a painting I made one lazy afternoon. It’s all here, surrounding me with the tangible reminders of the life we’ve built together.
But more than the room, it’s you. You’re the reason this moment feels sacred to me.
I glance toward the foot of the bed and see the clothes you’ve chosen for me: my favorite oversized sweater, the one I always reach for when I need to feel safe, paired with leggings and warm socks. I don’t have to think about what to wear. I don’t have to think about anything. You’ve already decided for me, thought of every detail, just as you always do. It’s a small thing, but it feels monumental—a reminder that I don’t have to carry it all. Not here. Not now.
I look back at you, and you’re watching me, propped on one elbow, your eyes warm and steady. You always look at me like this, like I’m yours and yours alone. It’s in that gaze that I find myself letting go. The tension in my shoulders, the tightness in my chest from a week of being too much for too many—it all starts to slip away under the weight of your care.
I don’t have to be anything but this. Just yours. Just here. Just us.
"Thank you," I whisper, my voice still thick with sleep but full of the gratitude I feel in every part of me. You smile, leaning in to press another kiss to my forehead, and I close my eyes again, savoring it. Today, I’m not running on empty. Today, I’m not running at all. You won’t let me.
Today, there’s no space for me to lose myself in the world. Today, I’ll lose myself in you.
When I walk into the kitchen, the rich, comforting aroma of tea and freshly made food wraps around me like a warm embrace. The sunlight streaming through the tall windows bathes the room in a golden glow, but what draws my attention is you. You're already seated, calm and poised, sipping your tea as though you've been waiting just for me. I hesitate for a moment in the doorway, caught between wanting to stay rooted there and needing to come closer.
You glance up, and the soft smile that curves your lips makes my heart flutter.
"Come here," you say, your voice so soothing, so sure. There's no hesitation in your tone, no room for anything but trust, and I step forward, drawn to you like I always am.
I sit down across from you, my gaze flickering over the table before meeting your steady eyes. I open my mouth to speak, to ask, to say something, but you stop me with a subtle shake of your head. "Set the table for me, baby. No questions. Just do as I say." Your voice is warm but firm, guiding me with that familiar authority that makes me feel safe, even when I'm not sure what you're thinking.
Without a word, I move to obey. My hands work automatically, setting the plates and utensils in their proper places, each movement deliberate and focused. As I do, I can feel your eyes on me, watching every motion with quiet intensity. When you finally speak, your words are soft but powerful. "Good girl."
The praise washes over me, filling me with a quiet pride that feels almost too big to contain. My cheeks grow warm, and I know I'm blushing, but I can't help it. I love being your good girl, love how those words make my heart swell and my body relax all at once.
After breakfast, we move to the living room, the cozy space that feels like a little world we've made for ourselves.
The plush gray sofa, piled high with soft pillows, seems to beckon me. A blanket —our blanket-drapes over the back, always ready for moments like this. The faint scent of lavender fills the air, blending with the gentle hum of music coming from the record player. It's all so perfect, so carefully designed to make me feel calm, cared for, and so utterly yours.
You settle onto the couch and pull me into your lap, your arms wrapping around me in a way that feels both protective and possessive. The blanket comes around us, cocooning me in warmth, and I feel your fingers brushing through my hair. The movie you've chosen is one of my favorites, a story I know by heart, one that lets my mind wander without losing its rhythm. But I'm not paying attention to the screen; all my focus is on you.
Your fingers comb through my hair in slow, soothing strokes, and I melt against you, my body softening with every gentle touch. Your lips press against the top of my head, my temple, the sensitive curve of my neck. Each kiss feels like a quiet promise, a reminder that I'm yours and that this moment is ours.
I can't help the way my hands clutch at your shirt, anchoring myself to you as I feel myself sinking further into this space you've created for me. My gaze drifts to your lips, your collarbone, the graceful lines of your neck and chest. I want to speak, to tell you how much I need this, how much I need you, but the words catch in my throat. It doesn't matter. You already know.
"Good girl," you murmur, your voice so soft it feels like a secret meant just for me. "You're doing so well for me. Just let go."
And I do. The tension l've been carrying all week dissolves into nothingness, leaving me weightless in your arms. My body grows pliant, my breathing slows, and my thoughts fade until there's nothing left but the feeling of you-your touch, your voice, the steady rhythm of your heart.
In this space, there's no need for words, no need for control. There's only surrender, quiet and blissful, and the warmth of knowing I'm exactly where I belong: with you.
The bathroom you later decide to go to with me is warm and inviting, the soft glow of candlelight reflecting off the tiled walls. The air is filled with the soothing scent of vanilla and sandalwood, wrapping around me like a comforting embrace. The tub is already filled, steam curling upward, and you’re there, your hands steady and sure as they guide me closer. Every detail feels intentional, like it’s been created just for me, to ease away the tension I didn’t realize I was still holding.
You help me into the bath, your hands firm on my waist, and I feel the warmth of the water envelop me. It’s not just the heat that relaxes me; it’s you. Your presence is grounding, your care palpable in every motion. As your hands follow the water over my skin, I can’t help the way my breath hitches. Your touch is slow, deliberate, reverent. You linger just enough to remind me who I belong to, and I can feel my cheeks growing warm, a blush creeping across my skin. I know you notice—I know you always notice—and when your eyes meet mine, the heat in your gaze only deepens my surrender.
Then you murmur, "Do you want Mommy to dry you off?"
The question catches me off guard, and I gasp softly, my lips parting as the meaning sinks in. My blush deepens instantly, the warmth spreading from my cheeks all the way down to my chest. I can barely find the words, so I nod instead, unable to do anything else under the weight of your gaze. Your smile is soft, knowing, and it makes my heart stutter in my chest.
"You know how to make Mommy happy, don’t you, baby?" you whisper, your voice low and intimate as you wrap me in a towel. The fabric is soft against my skin, but it’s your arms around me that truly make me feel safe. I lean into you, my body sinking into your embrace. Every thought, every worry, every piece of myself that feels too much—you take it all away, leaving only the quiet hum of belonging.
And as the evening drifts on, you lead me to the bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a golden hue over the space. The towel is still wrapped around me as I sit on the edge of the bed, the satin nightgown you laid out resting beside me. My fingers brush against the fabric for a moment, but I hesitate. My mind feels so soft, so quiet, that even the idea of dressing myself feels like too much. I glance at you instead, silently waiting, knowing you’ll guide me. You always do.
"Stand up, baby," you say softly, your voice steady and soothing. The command flows over me like water, and I obey without a second thought, rising to my feet with a quietness that feels natural under your gaze. You pick up the nightgown, the silky fabric sliding through your fingers before you lift it over my head. The touch of the material against my skin is cool at first, but your hands are warm as they smooth the gown over my shoulders and down my sides. Your touch lingers just a little longer than necessary, your fingers brushing against my skin, and I shiver, a soft sigh escaping my lips.
When your eyes meet mine, I feel that familiar warmth flood through me again, the blush creeping back as your fingers tilt my chin up. Your lips find mine, soft and commanding, and I melt into the kiss, letting it ground me even further. When you pull back, your gaze holds me steady.
"Perfect," you murmur, the word like a balm against my quiet insecurities. "You're absolutely perfect."
In that moment, I believe you. Because with you, I am.
The bedroom feels warm, wrapped in a quiet intimacy that settles over me like a second skin. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a golden light across the walls, highlighting the delicate, familiar details of this space we share. The air is a mix of lavender and sandalwood, lingering from the bath we took earlier, but more than anything, it’s the scent of you that grounds me, that keeps me present in this moment.
You guide me to the bed, your hands firm but gentle as you help me settle onto my back. The cool satin of my nightgown clings to my skin, and I can feel your eyes roaming over me, drinking me in. I blush under your gaze, the intensity of it making my body feel both exposed and cherished. The emerald green fabric feels almost decadent against my skin, the way it drapes and clings to every curve making me feel utterly beautiful, even before you speak a word.
The thin straps have slipped slightly from my shoulders, and the cool air brushes against the places where the fabric doesn’t quite cover. My thighs are bare, and the hem of the gown rests just above them, teasingly short, almost too much. I can feel how much you’re taking in, how you’re savoring the sight of me, and it makes my heart race, my breathing shallow.
But then there’s you. You’re still partially dressed, your shirt unbuttoned and hanging loosely over your shoulders. My eyes keep flickering to your chest, exposed just enough to make my pulse quicken.
I can feel my chest rising and falling quickly as I lie there, clutching at the duvet like it’s the only thing tethering me to the bed. But it’s not the duvet holding me steady—it’s you. It’s always you.
You lean over me, your palms pressing into the mattress on either side of my head, caging me in with your body. Your lips brush against my ear, and your voice, low and commanding, sends a shiver down my spine. "Look at me, baby," you say softly, and I obey instantly, tilting my head up to meet your gaze. Your eyes hold me captive, and I know I’m completely undone, completely yours. I can’t hide how far I’ve fallen into this space you’ve created for me, how my mind feels hazy, my body soft and pliant beneath your touch. My lips part as if to speak, but no words come. I don’t need to say anything—you already know.
"Look at you," you whisper, your thumb brushing over my bottom lip, and the touch makes my breath catch. "You’re so far gone, aren’t you, my sweet girl? So soft, so obedient, just the way I like you." Your words make my body melt further into the bed, and I nod faintly, trembling under the weight of your attention. Every part of me is laid bare for you, and I can feel your love, your care, in every word, every touch.
"My perfect little plaything," you murmur, your voice like a warm caress, and then your lips find mine. The kiss is soft at first, tender and grounding, but it deepens quickly, turning possessive and commanding. I respond without thought, my hands clutching at your shirt as though holding onto you is the only thing that matters. My breath hitches as you press closer, your body warm and solid against mine.
Your hand trails down my side, your touch featherlight and teasing, and I can’t stop the soft whimper that escapes my lips. The sound feels raw, unfiltered, but you love it—I can see it in the way your eyes darken, in the way your lips curve into a knowing smile against mine. That sound, that surrender-it's all for you.
Everything I am in this moment is for you.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
"You don’t have to think about anything," you whisper against my lips, and the sound of your voice melts through me, soft and commanding all at once. Your hand is slow and deliberate as it trails lower, and I feel every inch of its path, like it’s leaving a mark on my skin. "You don’t have to do anything. Just let me take care of you."
I nod, a trembling motion I can’t quite control, the weight of your words sinking into me, making my body feel impossibly soft and malleable beneath your touch. "That’s good," you murmur, and the way your tone wraps around me, warm and possessive, sends a shiver through my body. It’s a reaction I can’t hide—not from you, not ever—and the way your lips curve into the faintest smile tells me you already know.
Your hand trails down my side, fingers grazing the curve of my waist and teasing the sensitive dip of my hip. It’s so gentle, yet it leaves my body trembling, my breath catching as you linger just long enough to make me ache. When a soft, helpless whimper escapes me, I see the way your eyes darken, your breath catching just as mine does. You lean down, brushing a kiss to the corner of my mouth, then to the hollow of my throat. "I’m so proud of you," you murmur against my skin, and those words, so quiet and so full of meaning, make me feel like I might come undone right there.
"Always so good for me. Always so ready to give me everything."
I feel the weight of your body as you shift, pressing closer to me, grounding me in the warmth and solidity of you. Your hand moves lower, slipping under the hem of my satin nightgown, and I can’t stop the soft gasp that escapes my lips. My hands clutch the sheets, twisting them in my fingers as I try to hold onto something—anything—to keep myself steady. But there’s nothing steady about this moment, about the way my body arches instinctively toward your touch, about the trembling breaths that I can’t quite control.
"You’re so soft like this," you whisper, your lips brushing against my ear. Your voice carries that quiet, commanding tone that makes me shiver. "So pliable, so obedient. I could do anything I want to you, and you’d let me, wouldn’t you, baby?"
My cheeks burn as I nod again, the movement small, hesitant, but undeniable. The blush spreading across my skin feels impossibly hot, but your smile—soft against my skin—only deepens the sensation, making me feel even more exposed in the best way.
When your fingers slip away from the hem of my gown, I almost whimper again, my body leaning toward you instinctively, aching for the loss of your touch. But you’re not done with me—of course you’re not. Your fingers glide down my arm, featherlight, teasing, until they catch the thin strap of my nightgown. You tug it down slowly, baring one of my shoulders, then the other, your lips following the motion of your hand. Each kiss leaves my skin buzzing, every touch making me sink deeper into this space you’ve created for me.
"You look so beautiful in this," you murmur, your voice low and full of quiet command. "But I think I’d like you even better out of it."
Your words send a fresh wave of heat through me, and I watch you as you sit back on your knees, your hands moving with deliberate care as you slide the satin down my body. Inch by inch, you expose my skin, and I can feel your eyes on every part of me, taking me in as though this is the first time you’ve seen me like this.
The air feels cooler against my bare skin, but your gaze burns, leaving no room for the chill to linger. I’m completely exposed beneath you now, my body warm and trembling, my thighs pressing together as though I can somehow ease the ache building inside me. But I know there’s no relief—not until you decide to give it to me. I can see it in your eyes, that possessive, unshakable certainty that makes my breath catch.
I glance up at you, my lips parting as though to speak, but the words don’t come. I don’t need to say anything. I know you can see it—the way my body quivers under your gaze, the way I look at you with complete trust, complete surrender.
"You don’t have to hide from me," you say softly, your voice so warm and sure it melts through me. I feel your hands slide down my sides, your fingers grazing those sensitive spots that make me shiver. The way you touch me, the way you speak—it’s like you’re peeling back every layer of me until there’s nothing left but this: soft, open, and completely yours. "You don’t have to think. Just let me take care of you."
Your words ground me, soothe me, and all I can do is nod, letting myself sink further into the moment. When you lean down, your lips press against mine in a kiss that starts soft, teasing, like a question you already know the answer to. But then it deepens, your tongue sweeping against mine with a claiming intensity that leaves me breathless. I can’t help the soft moan that escapes me, my hands instinctively clutching at your shirt, needing something to hold onto. Every touch, every kiss from you feels electric, like my body was made for this—made for you.
Your lips trail lower, leaving a path of warmth and fire along my neck, my collarbone, my chest. My breath quickens, my body arching into your touch as though it has a mind of its own. Your hands are everywhere—firm, deliberate, possessive—as they trace the curve of my waist, the softness of my thighs. When you spread my legs, I feel my blush deepen, the vulnerability of the moment making my chest flutter. But I don’t resist. I could never resist you.
"You’ve been so perfect for me today," you murmur, your voice like a caress as you press a kiss to the inside of my thigh. The sensation sends a shiver through me, and I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. "Always so eager to please. Do you know how much I love you like this?"
I nod, my voice trembling as I manage to whisper, "Yes, mommy." Saying the words makes me feel small and safe in a way I can’t explain, and the way your eyes light up in response fills me with warmth.
"Good girl," you say, and the praise hits me like a wave, making me melt further into the bed. Your voice is low, full of promise and control, and it sends a thrill through me. "I’m going to take care of you tonight. You don’t have to do anything but be mine."
I let out a shaky breath as you lean down again, brushing your lips against mine in a kiss that’s soft but lingering, like you’re reminding me that I’m exactly where I belong. Your hand trails over my cheek, gentle and grounding, and I turn into your touch, unable to stop myself from seeking the comfort you so effortlessly provide.
"Stay here," you murmur, your voice low and commanding, the kind of tone that leaves no room for anything but obedience. "Don’t move. Keep those pretty legs right where they are for me, baby."
I nod again, my body already trembling under the weight of your words, my thighs instinctively pressing together before I stop myself. You smile—soft, knowing, and entirely in control—and I feel the way my body relaxes, giving itself over to you completely. There's no room for thought, no room for hesitation. There's only you, and the quiet surrender that makes me feel so perfectly yours.
My heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest, my breathing uneven as I watch you lean down, pressing one last soft, grounding kiss to my temple. That simple touch steadies me, even as anticipation buzzes through my entire body.
Then you rise, leaving me lying there, small and soft and completely exposed under your gaze. My eyes follow you instinctively, wide and adoring, unable to tear away as you stand above me, the shift in power between us making my pulse quicken. There’s something about the way you look down at me—with that quiet, unshakable authority—that makes me feel utterly yours in a way that’s both thrilling and terrifying in its intensity.
You move to the corner of the room, to the dresser, and the sound of the drawer opening fills the quiet space. I don’t move, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I just watch, my body frozen in a mixture of anticipation and need as your hands find the harness and strap. The faint creak of leather as you fasten the buckles seems impossibly loud in the stillness, and my breath hitches as I realize what’s about to happen.
I can’t look away. My eyes are glued to your hands, the way they move over the leather with practiced ease, the way you adjust each strap with deliberate care. I can feel my blush deepening, the heat crawling up my neck and into my cheeks as I watch you prepare yourself. My breathing grows heavier, my chest rising and falling in shallow gasps, and I can feel my thighs shifting of their own accord, trying to press together, though I know it won’t offer me any relief.
The harness wraps around you perfectly, dark leather fitting snugly against your body, framing your hips in a way that feels almost too powerful to look at. The strap is sleek and smooth, intimidating but not overwhelming, and it’s impossible not to be hyper-aware of every detail. You adjust the buckles one last time, making sure everything is just so, and then you turn back to me.
Our eyes meet, and the intensity in your gaze makes me feel like I’m going to melt into the bed. There’s something in the way you look at me—a mixture of power and affection, desire and control—that leaves me trembling. My chest tightens, my breath catching as my thighs press together again without thinking, a futile attempt to calm the ache growing inside me.
You smirk, and the deliberate confidence in that simple expression makes my whole body feel like it’s on fire. I watch, transfixed, as you cross the room back to me, every step slow and measured, every movement exuding a power that leaves me breathless. My eyes can’t stop drinking you in, the way the harness hugs your body, the way you carry yourself with such deliberate authority. It’s overwhelming, and yet, I can’t imagine looking away.
You stop at the edge of the bed, standing over me, and the weight of your gaze makes me tremble. My body feels small, pliant, and completely exposed to you, and I know you can see it—the way I shiver under your eyes, the way I grip the duvet just a little tighter, trying to keep myself from falling apart too soon.
"I think you’ve earned a reward, don’t you?" Your voice is soft but steady, laced with that quiet authority that makes me want to do nothing but obey. The words make my heart race, my body arching slightly without even meaning to, and all I can do is nod, unable to find my voice.
I nod quickly, my eyes darting between your face and the strap, my cheeks burning with a blush I can’t control. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I feel utterly exposed, trembling under your steady, knowing gaze.
"You can’t speak, baby?" you murmur, your voice soft but laced with power. I shiver as your fingers trail along the curve of my thigh, the touch light but commanding, pulling a quiet whimper from my lips. "Do you want this? Do you want me to fill you, to remind you who you belong to?"
"Y-Yes," I manage to whisper, my voice barely audible, shaky with anticipation. My body feels like it’s humming, my mind soft and pliant, and your smile sends a thrill through me—a mixture of tenderness and control that makes me melt even more.
You climb onto the bed with deliberate grace, settling between my legs, and I feel the press of the harness against my skin as you lower yourself over me. The weight of you is grounding, the warmth of your body pulling me deeper into this space where nothing else exists but you. Your hands frame my face, your touch firm but gentle as you tilt my chin up so our eyes meet. I can’t look away. The intensity of your gaze holds me completely, and when your lips find mine, the kiss is slow, possessive, leaving no doubt in my mind that I’m yours.
"You’re mine," you murmur against my lips, the words a quiet promise that settles deep in my chest. "Every inch of you belongs to me."
I nod again, the motion small and trembling, and you smile, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. The praise that follows, "Good girl," feels like it wraps around me, sinking into my skin. I let out a shaky breath, surrendering completely as you whisper, "Now, let me take care of you."
I feel you guide yourself against me, the strap sliding along my wetness, teasing and deliberate. My body arches instinctively, my hands clutching at the sheets as soft, desperate sounds escape my lips. The ache inside me is overwhelming, and I can’t stop the quiet moans that rise as you take your time, coaxing every bit of need from me.
"So responsive," you murmur, your voice filled with quiet admiration as your hand cups my cheek. Your gaze meets mine, and the love and control I see there make me feel like I could cry from the intensity of it. "You’re perfect like this, baby. Completely mine."
When you finally push into me, it’s slow and deliberate, every inch a reminder of your ownership, of how fully I belong to you. I gasp softly, my back arching as my body adjusts, the fullness grounding me and pushing me further into surrender. You still for a moment, your hands steady on my hips, your presence calming and reassuring.
"You’re doing so well," you whisper, your voice gentle, like a balm. The kiss you press to my temple makes my chest ache with how much I love you. "You take me so perfectly, my love."
The rhythm you set is slow at first, teasing and deliberate, pulling soft gasps and quiet whimpers from my lips with every movement. Your hands grip my thighs, keeping me open for you, and I feel completely vulnerable, completely exposed—but safe, so utterly safe in your hands.
My chest rises and falls quickly, my breaths uneven as my body responds to you without hesitation. Every motion, every touch, every word you murmur feels like it’s unraveling me, drawing me closer to something I can’t quite name but trust you to lead me to.
"That’s it," you murmur, your voice low and steady, a grounding force in the haze. "Let go for me, baby. Let me take you where you need to go."
And I do. I let go of everything-every thought, every hesitation, every piece of myself that doesn't belong in this moment. My body moves with yours, my breath catching on every gasp, every moan that escapes me, and all I can feel, all I can be, is yours.
As the pace quickens, the room fills with the sound of us moving together, the rhythm of our bodies blending with the heat of your whispered praise. My head spins, my breath coming in shallow gasps as your voice cuts through the haze, grounding me, owning me. Your lips find mine, the kiss possessive and deep, stealing what little breath I have left. One hand tangles in my hair, holding me in place, while the other steadies me, keeping me anchored beneath you.
"You’re so good for me," you whisper against my lips, your voice low and full of intent. "So perfect. My good girl."
The words make my chest tighten, a flood of warmth rushing through me that only fuels the fire already consuming me. My moans spill out louder now, raw and unrestrained, mixing with the steady rhythm of your movements. I feel completely exposed, utterly vulnerable, and yet, I’ve never felt safer than I do in this moment, beneath you, yours.
Your hands slide up my body, your fingers brushing along the curve of my waist, the swell of my chest, before settling on my hips. The pressure of your grip is firm, commanding, keeping me exactly where you want me, holding me steady as you move with deliberate purpose. Every thrust feels like a claim, and my body arches instinctively, desperate to give you everything you ask for.
My head falls back against the pillows, exposing my throat to you, and the moment your lips press there, I shiver, gasping as your teeth graze just enough to leave a spark of sensation behind. Your breath is hot against my skin as you murmur, "I love you," and the tenderness in your voice makes my heart ache, even as my body burns for more. "You’re always so good. Always what I need."
Your words fill me completely, making me tremble with a mix of love and surrender. My hands reach for you, clutching at your back, your arms, anything I can hold onto to keep myself grounded as wave after wave of sensation crashes over me. My fingers curl into you, nails pressing into your skin, and I feel your body respond to my touch, your movements becoming even more deliberate.
Then your hand tilts my chin up, and my hazy eyes meet yours. The intensity in your gaze holds me captive, and the vulnerability you find in mine makes me feel like I might unravel entirely. My chest tightens with love, my body trembling as I try to keep my focus, to give you everything you’re asking for.
"Look at me," you command softly, your voice steady but laced with a quiet power I could never resist. "Don’t look away. I want to see you when you fall apart."
I nod, barely able to manage the motion, my lips parting as if to speak, but no words come. The only sound I can make is a sharp gasp when you adjust your angle, your movements suddenly hitting the perfect spot. My body arches involuntarily, a cry escaping my lips as the pleasure rushes through me.
"There it is," you murmur, your voice filled with satisfaction as your lips curve into a knowing smile. "That’s my girl. Take it for me. Let me see how good I can make you feel."
Your words push me closer to the edge, your touch guiding me, commanding me, as my body responds to you with complete surrender. I don’t think, I don't hold back-there's nothing but this moment, nothing but you. The way you look at me, the way you move, the way you call me yours-it all consumes me, pulling me under, until there's nothing left but the bliss of falling apart for you.
Your breath comes in short, uneven gasps, my hands clutching desperately at the sheets as you push me closer and closer to the edge. My body feels like it’s on fire, every nerve ending alive and attuned to you. I can’t stop the way my legs tremble around you, the way your name falls from my lips like a prayer, broken and pleading. "You’re so close, aren’t you, baby?" you ask, your voice low and filled with promise, and the sound sends a fresh wave of shivers through me. "Let go for me. I want to feel you fall apart."
Your words tip me over the edge. With a shuddering gasp, I give in completely, letting myself unravel for you, my body and mind wholly yours in this moment. The release washes over me like a wave, overwhelming and all-encompassing, and the only thing grounding me is you. The way you hold me, the steadiness of your presence—it keeps me safe even as I fall apart.
My body tenses for a moment, every muscle tightening under the force of my climax, and then I melt beneath you, soft and trembling. My cries fill the air, raw and unrestrained, and I know you hear them, know they’re for you. You keep your hands steady on my hips, your movements slowing just enough to guide me through the waves of release, letting me ride them until there’s nothing left but quiet, blissful surrender.
"That’s it," you whisper, your lips brushing against my ear, your voice soft and full of love. "So beautiful. So perfect."
Your words make my chest ache in the best way, a warmth spreading through me that has nothing to do with the heat of the moment and everything to do with the way you see me. The way you know me.
When you finally still, I’m trembling, my chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. My body feels soft, pliant, completely spent beneath you, but your touch keeps me grounded. You press gentle kisses to my forehead, my cheeks, my lips, and each one feels like a tether, pulling me back to you, back to safety.
"You did so well for me," you murmur, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. Your voice is tender, full of pride and affection, and the words make me feel like I’ve given you something meaningful, something precious. "I’m so proud of you, my love."
You pull out slowly, carefully, your movements so deliberate that even the slight loss feels gentle. I can’t help the soft whimper that escapes me, my body already missing the fullness of you, and my hands instinctively reach for you, needing to feel you close. You smile—a soft, knowing smile that makes me feel so deeply seen-and you gather me into your arms without hesitation.
The blanket comes around us as you settle back onto the bed, holding me against your chest, and I relax into you completely. My head rests on your shoulder, your steady heartbeat grounding me in the aftermath. Your fingers stroke through my hair in slow, soothing motions, your voice soft and reassuring as you murmur, "You're safe. You're mine. You've always been mine."
And I believe you. I always will. In your arms, I know I'm exactly where I belong.
[Copyright by me.]
I wake up to the soft warmth of sunlight streaming through the curtains, and the first thing I feel is you. Your presence is a quiet hum of comfort, grounding me before my eyes even open. The bed feels impossibly soft, and I’m cocooned in our shared haven—our sanctuary. I barely notice the room around me at first, too focused on the steady beat of your breathing beside me and the faint scent of you lingering in the sheets.
I shift slightly, my body still heavy with sleep, as I hear your voice—low and soothing, wrapping around me like a gentle caress. "Good morning, my love," you whisper, and the sound alone melts something inside me. I murmur something half-formed, instinctively turning toward you, seeking the warmth and safety I know only you can give. I feel your lips brush against my temple, and my heart stirs even before my body fully does.
"Time to get up, baby. I’ve got everything ready for you." Your words are so soft, so assured, and they fill me with a sense of peace I haven’t felt all week. The kind of peace only you can provide.
When my eyes finally flutter open, the first thing I notice is the golden glow bathing the room. The space feels alive with quiet intimacy, like it’s holding its breath just for us. I glance toward the window, the curtains slightly parted just enough to let the morning light kiss the wooden floors. Everything about this room feels like us. The books we’ve shared, the small treasures scattered throughout—a pressed flower, a photo, a painting I made one lazy afternoon. It’s all here, surrounding me with the tangible reminders of the life we’ve built together.
But more than the room, it’s you. You’re the reason this moment feels sacred to me.
I glance toward the foot of the bed and see the clothes you’ve chosen for me: my favorite oversized sweater, the one I always reach for when I need to feel safe, paired with leggings and warm socks. I don’t have to think about what to wear. I don’t have to think about anything. You’ve already decided for me, thought of every detail, just as you always do. It’s a small thing, but it feels monumental—a reminder that I don’t have to carry it all. Not here. Not now.
I look back at you, and you’re watching me, propped on one elbow, your eyes warm and steady. You always look at me like this, like I’m yours and yours alone. It’s in that gaze that I find myself letting go. The tension in my shoulders, the tightness in my chest from a week of being too much for too many—it all starts to slip away under the weight of your care.
I don’t have to be anything but this. Just yours. Just here. Just us.
"Thank you," I whisper, my voice still thick with sleep but full of the gratitude I feel in every part of me. You smile, leaning in to press another kiss to my forehead, and I close my eyes again, savoring it. Today, I’m not running on empty. Today, I’m not running at all. You won’t let me.
Today, there’s no space for me to lose myself in the world. Today, I’ll lose myself in you.
When I walk into the kitchen, the rich, comforting aroma of tea and freshly made food wraps around me like a warm embrace. The sunlight streaming through the tall windows bathes the room in a golden glow, but what draws my attention is you. You're already seated, calm and poised, sipping your tea as though you've been waiting just for me. I hesitate for a moment in the doorway, caught between wanting to stay rooted there and needing to come closer.
You glance up, and the soft smile that curves your lips makes my heart flutter.
"Come here," you say, your voice so soothing, so sure. There's no hesitation in your tone, no room for anything but trust, and I step forward, drawn to you like I always am.
I sit down across from you, my gaze flickering over the table before meeting your steady eyes. I open my mouth to speak, to ask, to say something, but you stop me with a subtle shake of your head. "Set the table for me, baby. No questions. Just do as I say." Your voice is warm but firm, guiding me with that familiar authority that makes me feel safe, even when I'm not sure what you're thinking.
Without a word, I move to obey. My hands work automatically, setting the plates and utensils in their proper places, each movement deliberate and focused. As I do, I can feel your eyes on me, watching every motion with quiet intensity. When you finally speak, your words are soft but powerful. "Good girl."
The praise washes over me, filling me with a quiet pride that feels almost too big to contain. My cheeks grow warm, and I know I'm blushing, but I can't help it. I love being your good girl, love how those words make my heart swell and my body relax all at once.
After breakfast, we move to the living room, the cozy space that feels like a little world we've made for ourselves.
The plush gray sofa, piled high with soft pillows, seems to beckon me. A blanket —our blanket-drapes over the back, always ready for moments like this. The faint scent of lavender fills the air, blending with the gentle hum of music coming from the record player. It's all so perfect, so carefully designed to make me feel calm, cared for, and so utterly yours.
You settle onto the couch and pull me into your lap, your arms wrapping around me in a way that feels both protective and possessive. The blanket comes around us, cocooning me in warmth, and I feel your fingers brushing through my hair. The movie you've chosen is one of my favorites, a story I know by heart, one that lets my mind wander without losing its rhythm. But I'm not paying attention to the screen; all my focus is on you.
Your fingers comb through my hair in slow, soothing strokes, and I melt against you, my body softening with every gentle touch. Your lips press against the top of my head, my temple, the sensitive curve of my neck. Each kiss feels like a quiet promise, a reminder that I'm yours and that this moment is ours.
I can't help the way my hands clutch at your shirt, anchoring myself to you as I feel myself sinking further into this space you've created for me. My gaze drifts to your lips, your collarbone, the graceful lines of your neck and chest. I want to speak, to tell you how much I need this, how much I need you, but the words catch in my throat. It doesn't matter. You already know.
"Good girl," you murmur, your voice so soft it feels like a secret meant just for me. "You're doing so well for me. Just let go."
And I do. The tension l've been carrying all week dissolves into nothingness, leaving me weightless in your arms. My body grows pliant, my breathing slows, and my thoughts fade until there's nothing left but the feeling of you-your touch, your voice, the steady rhythm of your heart.
In this space, there's no need for words, no need for control. There's only surrender, quiet and blissful, and the warmth of knowing I'm exactly where I belong: with you.
The bathroom you later decide to go to with me is warm and inviting, the soft glow of candlelight reflecting off the tiled walls. The air is filled with the soothing scent of vanilla and sandalwood, wrapping around me like a comforting embrace. The tub is already filled, steam curling upward, and you’re there, your hands steady and sure as they guide me closer. Every detail feels intentional, like it’s been created just for me, to ease away the tension I didn’t realize I was still holding.
You help me into the bath, your hands firm on my waist, and I feel the warmth of the water envelop me. It’s not just the heat that relaxes me; it’s you. Your presence is grounding, your care palpable in every motion. As your hands follow the water over my skin, I can’t help the way my breath hitches. Your touch is slow, deliberate, reverent. You linger just enough to remind me who I belong to, and I can feel my cheeks growing warm, a blush creeping across my skin. I know you notice—I know you always notice—and when your eyes meet mine, the heat in your gaze only deepens my surrender.
Then you murmur, "Do you want Mommy to dry you off?"
The question catches me off guard, and I gasp softly, my lips parting as the meaning sinks in. My blush deepens instantly, the warmth spreading from my cheeks all the way down to my chest. I can barely find the words, so I nod instead, unable to do anything else under the weight of your gaze. Your smile is soft, knowing, and it makes my heart stutter in my chest.
"You know how to make Mommy happy, don’t you, baby?" you whisper, your voice low and intimate as you wrap me in a towel. The fabric is soft against my skin, but it’s your arms around me that truly make me feel safe. I lean into you, my body sinking into your embrace. Every thought, every worry, every piece of myself that feels too much—you take it all away, leaving only the quiet hum of belonging.
And as the evening drifts on, you lead me to the bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a golden hue over the space. The towel is still wrapped around me as I sit on the edge of the bed, the satin nightgown you laid out resting beside me. My fingers brush against the fabric for a moment, but I hesitate. My mind feels so soft, so quiet, that even the idea of dressing myself feels like too much. I glance at you instead, silently waiting, knowing you’ll guide me. You always do.
"Stand up, baby," you say softly, your voice steady and soothing. The command flows over me like water, and I obey without a second thought, rising to my feet with a quietness that feels natural under your gaze. You pick up the nightgown, the silky fabric sliding through your fingers before you lift it over my head. The touch of the material against my skin is cool at first, but your hands are warm as they smooth the gown over my shoulders and down my sides. Your touch lingers just a little longer than necessary, your fingers brushing against my skin, and I shiver, a soft sigh escaping my lips.
When your eyes meet mine, I feel that familiar warmth flood through me again, the blush creeping back as your fingers tilt my chin up. Your lips find mine, soft and commanding, and I melt into the kiss, letting it ground me even further. When you pull back, your gaze holds me steady.
"Perfect," you murmur, the word like a balm against my quiet insecurities. "You're absolutely perfect."
In that moment, I believe you. Because with you, I am.
The bedroom feels warm, wrapped in a quiet intimacy that settles over me like a second skin. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a golden light across the walls, highlighting the delicate, familiar details of this space we share. The air is a mix of lavender and sandalwood, lingering from the bath we took earlier, but more than anything, it’s the scent of you that grounds me, that keeps me present in this moment.
You guide me to the bed, your hands firm but gentle as you help me settle onto my back. The cool satin of my nightgown clings to my skin, and I can feel your eyes roaming over me, drinking me in. I blush under your gaze, the intensity of it making my body feel both exposed and cherished. The emerald green fabric feels almost decadent against my skin, the way it drapes and clings to every curve making me feel utterly beautiful, even before you speak a word.
The thin straps have slipped slightly from my shoulders, and the cool air brushes against the places where the fabric doesn’t quite cover. My thighs are bare, and the hem of the gown rests just above them, teasingly short, almost too much. I can feel how much you’re taking in, how you’re savoring the sight of me, and it makes my heart race, my breathing shallow.
But then there’s you. You’re still partially dressed, your shirt unbuttoned and hanging loosely over your shoulders. My eyes keep flickering to your chest, exposed just enough to make my pulse quicken.
I can feel my chest rising and falling quickly as I lie there, clutching at the duvet like it’s the only thing tethering me to the bed. But it’s not the duvet holding me steady—it’s you. It’s always you.
You lean over me, your palms pressing into the mattress on either side of my head, caging me in with your body. Your lips brush against my ear, and your voice, low and commanding, sends a shiver down my spine. "Look at me, baby," you say softly, and I obey instantly, tilting my head up to meet your gaze. Your eyes hold me captive, and I know I’m completely undone, completely yours. I can’t hide how far I’ve fallen into this space you’ve created for me, how my mind feels hazy, my body soft and pliant beneath your touch. My lips part as if to speak, but no words come. I don’t need to say anything—you already know.
"Look at you," you whisper, your thumb brushing over my bottom lip, and the touch makes my breath catch. "You’re so far gone, aren’t you, my sweet girl? So soft, so obedient, just the way I like you." Your words make my body melt further into the bed, and I nod faintly, trembling under the weight of your attention. Every part of me is laid bare for you, and I can feel your love, your care, in every word, every touch.
"My perfect little plaything," you murmur, your voice like a warm caress, and then your lips find mine. The kiss is soft at first, tender and grounding, but it deepens quickly, turning possessive and commanding. I respond without thought, my hands clutching at your shirt as though holding onto you is the only thing that matters. My breath hitches as you press closer, your body warm and solid against mine.
Your hand trails down my side, your touch featherlight and teasing, and I can’t stop the soft whimper that escapes my lips. The sound feels raw, unfiltered, but you love it—I can see it in the way your eyes darken, in the way your lips curve into a knowing smile against mine. That sound, that surrender-it's all for you.
Everything I am in this moment is for you.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
"You don’t have to think about anything," you whisper against my lips, and the sound of your voice melts through me, soft and commanding all at once. Your hand is slow and deliberate as it trails lower, and I feel every inch of its path, like it’s leaving a mark on my skin. "You don’t have to do anything. Just let me take care of you."
I nod, a trembling motion I can’t quite control, the weight of your words sinking into me, making my body feel impossibly soft and malleable beneath your touch. "That’s good," you murmur, and the way your tone wraps around me, warm and possessive, sends a shiver through my body. It’s a reaction I can’t hide—not from you, not ever—and the way your lips curve into the faintest smile tells me you already know.
Your hand trails down my side, fingers grazing the curve of my waist and teasing the sensitive dip of my hip. It’s so gentle, yet it leaves my body trembling, my breath catching as you linger just long enough to make me ache. When a soft, helpless whimper escapes me, I see the way your eyes darken, your breath catching just as mine does. You lean down, brushing a kiss to the corner of my mouth, then to the hollow of my throat. "I’m so proud of you," you murmur against my skin, and those words, so quiet and so full of meaning, make me feel like I might come undone right there.
"Always so good for me. Always so ready to give me everything."
I feel the weight of your body as you shift, pressing closer to me, grounding me in the warmth and solidity of you. Your hand moves lower, slipping under the hem of my satin nightgown, and I can’t stop the soft gasp that escapes my lips. My hands clutch the sheets, twisting them in my fingers as I try to hold onto something—anything—to keep myself steady. But there’s nothing steady about this moment, about the way my body arches instinctively toward your touch, about the trembling breaths that I can’t quite control.
"You’re so soft like this," you whisper, your lips brushing against my ear. Your voice carries that quiet, commanding tone that makes me shiver. "So pliable, so obedient. I could do anything I want to you, and you’d let me, wouldn’t you, baby?"
My cheeks burn as I nod again, the movement small, hesitant, but undeniable. The blush spreading across my skin feels impossibly hot, but your smile—soft against my skin—only deepens the sensation, making me feel even more exposed in the best way.
When your fingers slip away from the hem of my gown, I almost whimper again, my body leaning toward you instinctively, aching for the loss of your touch. But you’re not done with me—of course you’re not. Your fingers glide down my arm, featherlight, teasing, until they catch the thin strap of my nightgown. You tug it down slowly, baring one of my shoulders, then the other, your lips following the motion of your hand. Each kiss leaves my skin buzzing, every touch making me sink deeper into this space you’ve created for me.
"You look so beautiful in this," you murmur, your voice low and full of quiet command. "But I think I’d like you even better out of it."
Your words send a fresh wave of heat through me, and I watch you as you sit back on your knees, your hands moving with deliberate care as you slide the satin down my body. Inch by inch, you expose my skin, and I can feel your eyes on every part of me, taking me in as though this is the first time you’ve seen me like this.
The air feels cooler against my bare skin, but your gaze burns, leaving no room for the chill to linger. I’m completely exposed beneath you now, my body warm and trembling, my thighs pressing together as though I can somehow ease the ache building inside me. But I know there’s no relief—not until you decide to give it to me. I can see it in your eyes, that possessive, unshakable certainty that makes my breath catch.
I glance up at you, my lips parting as though to speak, but the words don’t come. I don’t need to say anything. I know you can see it—the way my body quivers under your gaze, the way I look at you with complete trust, complete surrender.
"You don’t have to hide from me," you say softly, your voice so warm and sure it melts through me. I feel your hands slide down my sides, your fingers grazing those sensitive spots that make me shiver. The way you touch me, the way you speak—it’s like you’re peeling back every layer of me until there’s nothing left but this: soft, open, and completely yours. "You don’t have to think. Just let me take care of you."
Your words ground me, soothe me, and all I can do is nod, letting myself sink further into the moment. When you lean down, your lips press against mine in a kiss that starts soft, teasing, like a question you already know the answer to. But then it deepens, your tongue sweeping against mine with a claiming intensity that leaves me breathless. I can’t help the soft moan that escapes me, my hands instinctively clutching at your shirt, needing something to hold onto. Every touch, every kiss from you feels electric, like my body was made for this—made for you.
Your lips trail lower, leaving a path of warmth and fire along my neck, my collarbone, my chest. My breath quickens, my body arching into your touch as though it has a mind of its own. Your hands are everywhere—firm, deliberate, possessive—as they trace the curve of my waist, the softness of my thighs. When you spread my legs, I feel my blush deepen, the vulnerability of the moment making my chest flutter. But I don’t resist. I could never resist you.
"You’ve been so perfect for me today," you murmur, your voice like a caress as you press a kiss to the inside of my thigh. The sensation sends a shiver through me, and I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. "Always so eager to please. Do you know how much I love you like this?"
I nod, my voice trembling as I manage to whisper, "Yes, mommy." Saying the words makes me feel small and safe in a way I can’t explain, and the way your eyes light up in response fills me with warmth.
"Good girl," you say, and the praise hits me like a wave, making me melt further into the bed. Your voice is low, full of promise and control, and it sends a thrill through me. "I’m going to take care of you tonight. You don’t have to do anything but be mine."
I let out a shaky breath as you lean down again, brushing your lips against mine in a kiss that’s soft but lingering, like you’re reminding me that I’m exactly where I belong. Your hand trails over my cheek, gentle and grounding, and I turn into your touch, unable to stop myself from seeking the comfort you so effortlessly provide.
"Stay here," you murmur, your voice low and commanding, the kind of tone that leaves no room for anything but obedience. "Don’t move. Keep those pretty legs right where they are for me, baby."
I nod again, my body already trembling under the weight of your words, my thighs instinctively pressing together before I stop myself. You smile—soft, knowing, and entirely in control—and I feel the way my body relaxes, giving itself over to you completely. There's no room for thought, no room for hesitation. There's only you, and the quiet surrender that makes me feel so perfectly yours.
My heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest, my breathing uneven as I watch you lean down, pressing one last soft, grounding kiss to my temple. That simple touch steadies me, even as anticipation buzzes through my entire body.
Then you rise, leaving me lying there, small and soft and completely exposed under your gaze. My eyes follow you instinctively, wide and adoring, unable to tear away as you stand above me, the shift in power between us making my pulse quicken. There’s something about the way you look down at me—with that quiet, unshakable authority—that makes me feel utterly yours in a way that’s both thrilling and terrifying in its intensity.
You move to the corner of the room, to the dresser, and the sound of the drawer opening fills the quiet space. I don’t move, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I just watch, my body frozen in a mixture of anticipation and need as your hands find the harness and strap. The faint creak of leather as you fasten the buckles seems impossibly loud in the stillness, and my breath hitches as I realize what’s about to happen.
I can’t look away. My eyes are glued to your hands, the way they move over the leather with practiced ease, the way you adjust each strap with deliberate care. I can feel my blush deepening, the heat crawling up my neck and into my cheeks as I watch you prepare yourself. My breathing grows heavier, my chest rising and falling in shallow gasps, and I can feel my thighs shifting of their own accord, trying to press together, though I know it won’t offer me any relief.
The harness wraps around you perfectly, dark leather fitting snugly against your body, framing your hips in a way that feels almost too powerful to look at. The strap is sleek and smooth, intimidating but not overwhelming, and it’s impossible not to be hyper-aware of every detail. You adjust the buckles one last time, making sure everything is just so, and then you turn back to me.
Our eyes meet, and the intensity in your gaze makes me feel like I’m going to melt into the bed. There’s something in the way you look at me—a mixture of power and affection, desire and control—that leaves me trembling. My chest tightens, my breath catching as my thighs press together again without thinking, a futile attempt to calm the ache growing inside me.
You smirk, and the deliberate confidence in that simple expression makes my whole body feel like it’s on fire. I watch, transfixed, as you cross the room back to me, every step slow and measured, every movement exuding a power that leaves me breathless. My eyes can’t stop drinking you in, the way the harness hugs your body, the way you carry yourself with such deliberate authority. It’s overwhelming, and yet, I can’t imagine looking away.
You stop at the edge of the bed, standing over me, and the weight of your gaze makes me tremble. My body feels small, pliant, and completely exposed to you, and I know you can see it—the way I shiver under your eyes, the way I grip the duvet just a little tighter, trying to keep myself from falling apart too soon.
"I think you’ve earned a reward, don’t you?" Your voice is soft but steady, laced with that quiet authority that makes me want to do nothing but obey. The words make my heart race, my body arching slightly without even meaning to, and all I can do is nod, unable to find my voice.
I nod quickly, my eyes darting between your face and the strap, my cheeks burning with a blush I can’t control. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I feel utterly exposed, trembling under your steady, knowing gaze.
"You can’t speak, baby?" you murmur, your voice soft but laced with power. I shiver as your fingers trail along the curve of my thigh, the touch light but commanding, pulling a quiet whimper from my lips. "Do you want this? Do you want me to fill you, to remind you who you belong to?"
"Y-Yes," I manage to whisper, my voice barely audible, shaky with anticipation. My body feels like it’s humming, my mind soft and pliant, and your smile sends a thrill through me—a mixture of tenderness and control that makes me melt even more.
You climb onto the bed with deliberate grace, settling between my legs, and I feel the press of the harness against my skin as you lower yourself over me. The weight of you is grounding, the warmth of your body pulling me deeper into this space where nothing else exists but you. Your hands frame my face, your touch firm but gentle as you tilt my chin up so our eyes meet. I can’t look away. The intensity of your gaze holds me completely, and when your lips find mine, the kiss is slow, possessive, leaving no doubt in my mind that I’m yours.
"You’re mine," you murmur against my lips, the words a quiet promise that settles deep in my chest. "Every inch of you belongs to me."
I nod again, the motion small and trembling, and you smile, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. The praise that follows, "Good girl," feels like it wraps around me, sinking into my skin. I let out a shaky breath, surrendering completely as you whisper, "Now, let me take care of you."
I feel you guide yourself against me, the strap sliding along my wetness, teasing and deliberate. My body arches instinctively, my hands clutching at the sheets as soft, desperate sounds escape my lips. The ache inside me is overwhelming, and I can’t stop the quiet moans that rise as you take your time, coaxing every bit of need from me.
"So responsive," you murmur, your voice filled with quiet admiration as your hand cups my cheek. Your gaze meets mine, and the love and control I see there make me feel like I could cry from the intensity of it. "You’re perfect like this, baby. Completely mine."
When you finally push into me, it’s slow and deliberate, every inch a reminder of your ownership, of how fully I belong to you. I gasp softly, my back arching as my body adjusts, the fullness grounding me and pushing me further into surrender. You still for a moment, your hands steady on my hips, your presence calming and reassuring.
"You’re doing so well," you whisper, your voice gentle, like a balm. The kiss you press to my temple makes my chest ache with how much I love you. "You take me so perfectly, my love."
The rhythm you set is slow at first, teasing and deliberate, pulling soft gasps and quiet whimpers from my lips with every movement. Your hands grip my thighs, keeping me open for you, and I feel completely vulnerable, completely exposed—but safe, so utterly safe in your hands.
My chest rises and falls quickly, my breaths uneven as my body responds to you without hesitation. Every motion, every touch, every word you murmur feels like it’s unraveling me, drawing me closer to something I can’t quite name but trust you to lead me to.
"That’s it," you murmur, your voice low and steady, a grounding force in the haze. "Let go for me, baby. Let me take you where you need to go."
And I do. I let go of everything-every thought, every hesitation, every piece of myself that doesn't belong in this moment. My body moves with yours, my breath catching on every gasp, every moan that escapes me, and all I can feel, all I can be, is yours.
As the pace quickens, the room fills with the sound of us moving together, the rhythm of our bodies blending with the heat of your whispered praise. My head spins, my breath coming in shallow gasps as your voice cuts through the haze, grounding me, owning me. Your lips find mine, the kiss possessive and deep, stealing what little breath I have left. One hand tangles in my hair, holding me in place, while the other steadies me, keeping me anchored beneath you.
"You’re so good for me," you whisper against my lips, your voice low and full of intent. "So perfect. My good girl."
The words make my chest tighten, a flood of warmth rushing through me that only fuels the fire already consuming me. My moans spill out louder now, raw and unrestrained, mixing with the steady rhythm of your movements. I feel completely exposed, utterly vulnerable, and yet, I’ve never felt safer than I do in this moment, beneath you, yours.
Your hands slide up my body, your fingers brushing along the curve of my waist, the swell of my chest, before settling on my hips. The pressure of your grip is firm, commanding, keeping me exactly where you want me, holding me steady as you move with deliberate purpose. Every thrust feels like a claim, and my body arches instinctively, desperate to give you everything you ask for.
My head falls back against the pillows, exposing my throat to you, and the moment your lips press there, I shiver, gasping as your teeth graze just enough to leave a spark of sensation behind. Your breath is hot against my skin as you murmur, "I love you," and the tenderness in your voice makes my heart ache, even as my body burns for more. "You’re always so good. Always what I need."
Your words fill me completely, making me tremble with a mix of love and surrender. My hands reach for you, clutching at your back, your arms, anything I can hold onto to keep myself grounded as wave after wave of sensation crashes over me. My fingers curl into you, nails pressing into your skin, and I feel your body respond to my touch, your movements becoming even more deliberate.
Then your hand tilts my chin up, and my hazy eyes meet yours. The intensity in your gaze holds me captive, and the vulnerability you find in mine makes me feel like I might unravel entirely. My chest tightens with love, my body trembling as I try to keep my focus, to give you everything you’re asking for.
"Look at me," you command softly, your voice steady but laced with a quiet power I could never resist. "Don’t look away. I want to see you when you fall apart."
I nod, barely able to manage the motion, my lips parting as if to speak, but no words come. The only sound I can make is a sharp gasp when you adjust your angle, your movements suddenly hitting the perfect spot. My body arches involuntarily, a cry escaping my lips as the pleasure rushes through me.
"There it is," you murmur, your voice filled with satisfaction as your lips curve into a knowing smile. "That’s my girl. Take it for me. Let me see how good I can make you feel."
Your words push me closer to the edge, your touch guiding me, commanding me, as my body responds to you with complete surrender. I don’t think, I don't hold back-there's nothing but this moment, nothing but you. The way you look at me, the way you move, the way you call me yours-it all consumes me, pulling me under, until there's nothing left but the bliss of falling apart for you.
Your breath comes in short, uneven gasps, my hands clutching desperately at the sheets as you push me closer and closer to the edge. My body feels like it’s on fire, every nerve ending alive and attuned to you. I can’t stop the way my legs tremble around you, the way your name falls from my lips like a prayer, broken and pleading. "You’re so close, aren’t you, baby?" you ask, your voice low and filled with promise, and the sound sends a fresh wave of shivers through me. "Let go for me. I want to feel you fall apart."
Your words tip me over the edge. With a shuddering gasp, I give in completely, letting myself unravel for you, my body and mind wholly yours in this moment. The release washes over me like a wave, overwhelming and all-encompassing, and the only thing grounding me is you. The way you hold me, the steadiness of your presence—it keeps me safe even as I fall apart.
My body tenses for a moment, every muscle tightening under the force of my climax, and then I melt beneath you, soft and trembling. My cries fill the air, raw and unrestrained, and I know you hear them, know they’re for you. You keep your hands steady on my hips, your movements slowing just enough to guide me through the waves of release, letting me ride them until there’s nothing left but quiet, blissful surrender.
"That’s it," you whisper, your lips brushing against my ear, your voice soft and full of love. "So beautiful. So perfect."
Your words make my chest ache in the best way, a warmth spreading through me that has nothing to do with the heat of the moment and everything to do with the way you see me. The way you know me.
When you finally still, I’m trembling, my chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. My body feels soft, pliant, completely spent beneath you, but your touch keeps me grounded. You press gentle kisses to my forehead, my cheeks, my lips, and each one feels like a tether, pulling me back to you, back to safety.
"You did so well for me," you murmur, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. Your voice is tender, full of pride and affection, and the words make me feel like I’ve given you something meaningful, something precious. "I’m so proud of you, my love."
You pull out slowly, carefully, your movements so deliberate that even the slight loss feels gentle. I can’t help the soft whimper that escapes me, my body already missing the fullness of you, and my hands instinctively reach for you, needing to feel you close. You smile—a soft, knowing smile that makes me feel so deeply seen-and you gather me into your arms without hesitation.
The blanket comes around us as you settle back onto the bed, holding me against your chest, and I relax into you completely. My head rests on your shoulder, your steady heartbeat grounding me in the aftermath. Your fingers stroke through my hair in slow, soothing motions, your voice soft and reassuring as you murmur, "You're safe. You're mine. You've always been mine."
And I believe you. I always will. In your arms, I know I'm exactly where I belong.
[Copyright by me.]