He knew the moment the door closed behind him that he’d already given something up.

She didn’t turn straight away. She let him stand there, uncertain, listening to the quiet stretch. When she finally faced him, it was without expression — composed, deliberate, dressed to control.

Black leather trousers, tight and unyielding, catching the light when she moved. A corset pulled her waist in hard and lifted her breasts high, holding them immobile, the fabric stretched smooth across her chest so there was no mistaking the shape beneath it. Her nipples were visible if you looked long enough. She knew that too.

Her hair fell loose over one shoulder, dark and heavy. Her lips were painted a deep, matte red — severe, exact. Not an invitation. A decision.

“Shoes off,” Reeva said.

He moved too fast.

She raised one finger.

“Slow.”

He started again. She watched closely, eyes tracking every movement, every hesitation. When he straightened, she stepped into his space, close enough that he felt the heat of her body without earning it.

“Kneel.”

The word landed low. He obeyed.

She circled him once, boots quiet, fingers brushing his shoulders just enough to feel muscle beneath skin. When she stopped behind him, her hand slid down his back, slow and possessive, gripping hard at his waist. She held him there, squeezing, testing the tension in his body.

“Stay.”

Her hand came down sharply.

The sound cracked through the room. Heat flared instantly. He gasped before he could stop himself.

She waited.

Then another strike — harder, deliberate, landing in the same place. This time her hand stayed there afterward, squeezing the skin she’d just struck, kneading it slowly, fingers digging in as if claiming what she’d marked.

He shifted.

Her grip tightened immediately.

“Don’t.”

She pushed him forward slightly, one hand firm between his shoulders, bending him just enough to expose him, to fix his position. Her palm landed again. And again.The rhythm was unhurried — strike, pause, squeeze — each one landing with intention, each pause worse than the impact.

She grabbed a handful of skin at his hip and held him there, forcing stillness while she struck him again. Her touch was rough now, possessive, fingers digging in, controlling where he could move and how much he could take.

“Hold it,” she said calmly.

Paul did.

By the time she stopped, his skin was burning, oversensitive, alive under her hands. She rested her palm there, warm and heavy, her thumb pressing once as if to test how close he was.

She moved back into his line of sight and tilted his chin up with two fingers. Her corset was level with his face now, breasts held high and still, leather creaking faintly when she shifted her weight. She watched his eyes flicker. She allowed it.

“You came here to be handled,” she said quietly. “Not indulged.”

She released his chin and stepped back, hands settling at her waist, perfectly composed, leaving him kneeling — marked, restrained, skin aching where she’d touched him — fully aware that she wasn’t finished.

“Open your mouth,” she said as she lowered herself to taste her slave.

She turned away to attach something to her lower body, the break a brief relief for him. When she turned back, a large silicone cock was strapped to her waist — flesh-coloured, positioned where her pussy would be.

“Open your mouth and keep it open.”

There was no space between her words and the strap-on being forced into his mouth.

“Open wide. What did I tell you?”

Standing upright, with the full force of her hips, she thrust it in and out relentlessly.

He tried to move his head, but Reeva held him in place.

“Don’t you try and move. I fucking own you.”

She picked up the pace, using his mouth until his face turned red. Then she pulled back, lowered herself to his face, and slapped it.

“Suck these tits.”

In one motion she shoved her nipples into his mouth.Saliva drooled from his mouth as he closed his lips around her breasts. He looked forward to feeling how hard his pain had made her. He suckled like a newborn and, for a moment, they both moaned in unison.

Suddenly Reeva pulled his head back.

“But you’ve had enough fun with my titties.”

In the next instant he was being turned around and lifted into the air. He felt exposed and powerless — more than at any other point in the session. He felt Reeva pull his ass cheeks apart and insert a finger. He jolted.

“You like that?”

“Well—”

“Shut up.”

Paul shifted, and she landed a blow on his ass. He felt her placing something around his mouth.

“Open wide. Last time.”

She fitted the mouth gag and patted his cheek, telling him he’d need it.

After that, he heard the sound of a pump and winced, already guessing what was coming.

Reeva stood behind him and gently inserted the head of the cock. She went slowly at first, meeting resistance from his muscles, but that didn’t stop her. She pushed deeper and deeper.

The pain was sharp, but as she moved further, Paul felt an intense pleasure he had never experienced before.

“Wank your cock,” she said.

As he touched himself, she rode him hard, faster and harder, like a bronco. His breath broke as he felt himself getting close.

“You are not allowed to cum unless I say so.”

Paul knew he couldn’t wait, but he couldn’t tell her. He came onto the concrete slab beneath him.

Reeva noticed. She smiled and patted him on the head.

“Good boy. Now get out of my chambers.”