The apartment was immaculate—every surface gleamed, every item arranged with purpose. Mark had spent the afternoon cleaning, anxiety and excitement blending as he prepared for Mistress Elena’ s arrival. He knew she would notice every detail, and that pleased him as much as it terrified him. 

He kneeled in the living room, just as she’d commanded in her morning text: “Kneel, hands behind your back, eyes on the floor. Wait for me.” The anticipation was agonizing. He could hear the city outside—the distant hum of traffic, the occasional bark of a dog—but all that faded when he heard the soft click of her key in the lock.

She entered quietly, pausing to hang her coat, then stepping into the room with her unmistakable mixture of grace and authority. He risked a glance up, just enough to see her dark hair pulled back, red lipstick perfectly applied, and the confident tilt of her chin. Her blouse hugged her frame and the leather pencil skirt moved with her as she crossed the room, heels clicking a rhythm that set his nerves alight.

read more on fetishstories.net