My ex-girlfriend kneeled at the feet of my satiated boyfriend with a smug grin on her face, having just swallowed a load of his hot sperm. My fingers remained entangled in her blond hair, her lustful blue eyes fixed on mine. I knew exactly what she wanted next: a taste of me.

A tumult of emotions swirled in her eyes: regret, longing, perhaps a silent plea for forgiveness for fucking my fiancé behind her back, or a desperate wish for a second chance. I knew that reopening old wounds would only lead to more heartache. The bond I shared with her had been shattered beyond repair, scarred by betrayal and pain. But my journey to closure was far from over; I needed to continue playing this game with them to dispel any doubts about whether they were more than just physically attracted to each other.

As I let go of her hair, her soft curls slipped through my fingers, and my gaze returned to my boyfriend. His vision had become hazy from the recent climax, and his chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. I was horny and conflicted after witnessing him fuck another woman's mouth. It was my turn to have some fun with her, but, first, I needed to make sure I had complete control of the situation.

"Get up on the bed," I said, unsure if he'd comply. As his sub, I usually reveled in his dominance and eagerly followed his lead, so this new scenario felt strange and uncomfortable for me.

My heart raced as he looked at me with hunger in his eyes. He walked towards the bed with a mischievous smile, and as I watched him obey, I realized I was no longer just his kitten or slut; now, I was in command, guiding him into uncharted sexual territory. I felt a rush of excitement and arousal at the power dynamic shift. With each step he took, I could sense my confidence growing. 

Sara remained kneeling on the floor, a silent observer of the power play. I walked over to the nightstand, opened the drawer, and took out the handcuffs as he climbed onto the bed. He knew what they were for and lay down spread-eagle, waiting for the restraints.

I approached him with a spontaneous, naughty smile on my lips. Gently yet firmly, I secured his wrists to the bedposts, ensuring the handcuffs were snug but not uncomfortably tight. The click of the cuffs echoed throughout the room, a stark sound that marked the passage from mere fantasy to vivid reality.

The soft light from the room cast shadows that danced across my corseted form, emphasizing the bold curves and the stark contrast of the black lingerie against my creamy skin. My gaze swept over him as he lay on the bed, buck naked, bound and waiting, completely at my mercy. The metallic glint of the cuffs stood out against the soft bedding, a visual representation of the power I wielded. He was mine—all mine. This was more than just a game; it was a reclaim of power, a cathartic assertion of my will over the story we shared.

The room, which had once felt familiar, now felt like a stage where the lines between control and surrender, pain and pleasure, blurred and were being rewritten with each passing second. I was not just a participant in this scene; I was its creator, and the next movement was mine to command. With my boyfriend securely restrained, unable to move, I turned my attention to Sara.

"Strip."

She rose to her feet slowly and deliberately. Her fingers fumbled slightly as they reached behind her to find the zipper on her dress. She drew the zipper down with a smooth motion, its faint whisper piercing the room's tense silence. The tight, black dress that hugged her curves began to fall, revealing the soft, fair skin beneath, emphasizing every contour of her body as it slid down to the floor and pooled at her feet.

Her bold eyes, a deep and piercing blue, never left mine as she stepped out of it with a confident grace. The striptease, despite being a command, seemed to transform into a performance just for me.

The soft light in the room highlighted the contours of her body as she stood in her black lace lingerie, all tempting and alluring. Every curve seemed to beg for exploration, and I had to remind myself of what she had done to me while concentrating on the plan.

I studied her, taking in every detail. The subtle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, the tremor of anticipation that seemed to run through her body, and the way her eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

I then turned my attention to him, intending to dissect his reaction to her stripping, but his gaze was not on her at all. Instead, his eyes were fixed on me, following every movement I made. His breathing was slightly labored, and I wanted to see him gasping for air out of desire.

"Did I tell you to stop?" I asked her.

A sensual tension filled the air between us as she teasingly shook her head and reached for her bra, smoothly unfastening each clasp and allowing it to fall to the ground with a soft thud. The sight of her soft, perky breasts made my mouth water, and my hands twitched with the desire to touch her velvety skin.

With a sultry look in her eye, her fingers trailed down to her thongs, teasingly hooking them before dragging them down her long, smooth legs. My breath caught in my throat as the tiny fabric fell to the ground, revealing her fully exposed body. Every inch of me burned with desire as she stood there completely naked, ready and waiting for my next order.

My gaze returned to him, stretched out on the bed, a landscape of contained longing. His eyes glowed with a ravenous glint and remained focused on me—not on her. He had mentioned to me before wanting to switch roles once or twice, occasionally relinquishing control. And it wasn't just about submitting to anyone; it was about submitting to me specifically—I was the key to unlocking his deepest fantasies, but I always thought I couldn't handle the responsibility. 

His desire to surrender and his erection seemed to grow stronger as he witnessed my assertive transformation. Each voracious look he gave me was an invitation to test limits and delve into the depths of pleasure from this newfound position of power.

I set the tone for what was to come by kicking off my heels with a tantalizing sway of my hips and turning to Sara before slowly sliding down my thong, revealing my freshly shaved mound. The fabric caressed my skin in a sensual descent, eventually gathering in a delicate lace heap at my feet. Sara's lips parted in awe as she watched the revelation of her deepest desire. Her hungry eyes were drawn to the glistening moisture dripping from between my thighs, a clear indicator of my arousal.

I shifted my attention to him and moved towards the bed with a seductive roll of my hips, each step a deliberate act of allure. Despite her nakedness, his gaze stayed on me—a laser focus that spoke volumes about his enchantment. As I approached the edge of the bed, a knowing grin played across my lips. The air was thick with his palpable longing for me, and I reveled in its power.

Tonight, I was more than just his girlfriend or fiancée; I was a dominatrix, ready to deliver a performance that would leave an indelible imprint on his mind, creating a sexual experience that would surpass all others, making him crave me and only me for the rest of his life.

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