He felt alive, like a man possessed by newfound confidence. His love for Elara was more vivid than ever, and his natural desire to protect and provide seemed supercharged. Yet, alongside this, he felt suddenly masterful and dominant. He was an accomplished academic with a successful career as a  private equity manager, he was not a weak man but this was a new level of confidence and assertiveness he was experiencing. In their relationship, he had always been a peer and equal, a companion, never brutish or aggressive. But this surge of energy coursing through his veins made him feel unstoppable. It was a raw form of masculinity, a rush of testosterone unlike any he had felt at the gym. More powerful than these intense feelings, however, was a singular focus: he wanted Elara, and nothing else mattered. His mind was laser-focused on that one goal.

The roll top bath was elevated in the centre of the bathroom on a raised platform, a showcase design that had captivated them when buying the house. The warmth from the underfloor heating radiated through the marble tiles beneath his bare feet as he approached Elara with slow, deliberate steps. Her naked body was submerged beneath the steaming, foamy water, the soft bubbles concealing her except for her head and raised knees.

“Alexander, you surprised me,” she said bashfully.

He ignored her comment, his eyes locked on hers, like a lion stalking its prey. She stayed silent, her heart pounding in anticipation. She could see the definition of his athletic frame through his fine silk robe. She bit down on her lip, she had never seen him look so captivating, and she suddenly felt vulnerable and uncharacteristically submissive.

He circled the bath slowly, never breaking eye contact, his movements deliberate. He stopped behind her, standing at the head of the bath where her head rested on the curved rim. Gently, he put the collar down and began stroking her wet hair, lifting her long, dark blonde strands over her ears and letting them cascade over the curve of the tub. Droplets of water dripped from her hair, landing on the raised marble platform creating a small puddle.

”You look so beautiful," he said as he knelt behind her, still stroking her long, wet hair, his chin hovering just above her forehead. She rolled her eyes upward to look at him, but could only sense the slight movement of his mouth, as he was just out of her sight.

"Thank you," she said.

”Thank you, what?" he whispered, his tone firm yet playful, as though coaxing her to correct herself.

She paused. This was unlike him—he had never played mind games or acted this way before. But her feeling of submission and the way he positioned himself so confidently behind her, stirred something primal inside her. The response immediately formed in her mind.

”Thank you, Sir," she replied, exhaling deeply.

As the words left her mouth, she felt a profound sense of release, as though all her stress and burdens had fallen away, unburdening herself as if she was confessing sins in a church.

”Good girl,” he said.

For both of them, this simple phrase struck deep chords. He had never spoken to Elara in this way before—the only terms of affection he'd ever used were "darling" or "dear." But as these words left his mouth, he felt a potent mix of paternal care, sexual dominance, along with a newfound sense of ownership that both unsettled and emboldened him.

For Elara, the words "good girl" hit her like a tornado, lifting her in a whirlwind of memories—childhood, school, her father, lovers, Christmases, exam results, all cascading through her mind at once. It was almost impossible to process the sudden gusts of emotion: safety, desire, pride, freedom, and longing. The intensity surged out of her in a gasp, accompanied by a soft smile and a warm, melting sensation that spread through every part of her being. In that moment, she could finally let go. Somehow, layers of unconscious self-preservation and the unrelenting pressure she placed on herself seemed to dissolve, leaving behind only a sense of childlike tranquillity and wonderment at the enchanted road that lay ahead

Alexander, even to this day, could never fully explain how instinctively he knew what to do next. He picked up the collar and placed it around Elara’s bare neck, moving slowly, like a vampire savouring the approach to a victim’s throat before the bite. The soft Italian leather wrapped snugly around her slender neck as he gently moved her damp, thick hair aside to access the buckle. With deliberate care, he slid the golden pin into the last remaining hole, just above her spine. Then, in a low voice, he asked, “Who do you belong to?”

”To you.”

”To me?” he replied, feigning surprise. “Let’s try that again, shall we.” he whispered, his mouth so close to her ear that she could feel the warmth of his breath.

“Who do you belong to?” he repeated, this time more seductively.

“I belong to you, Sir,” she responded, her voice steady.

“Good girl.” A shiver of excitement coursed through both of them.

As Alexander fastened the buckle, he asked, “And what can I do to you?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, she answered, “Anything you want… Sir.”

Her words sent a jolt of arousal through him, making him instantly hard. The permission she had granted ignited a powerful sense of authority within him, and a multitude of devious possibilities flooded his mind. His erection strained against his pyjama bottoms, and with a deliberate motion, he slipped off his silk robe, letting it fall to the floor.

”Anything I want?” he asked, his tone playful yet edged with a deeper implication that anything truly meant anything. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Sir. You can do anything you want to me. I’m yours,” she replied, her voice unwavering.

Alexander’s gaze was drawn to the golden O-ring at the front of her collar, resting just below Elara’s chin. The Cheyenne-rouge leather contrasted beautifully against the gleaming metal, its rich, muted tone echoing the subtle flush of her swollen labia submerged beneath the bathwater. The collar seemed to embody her vulnerability, inviting him to explore the depths of her submission.

He slipped the long belt from his dressing gown and looped it around the leg of the bath. Holding each end, he raised the silk cord around either side of her hair and threaded both ends through the O-ring of her collar. As they crossed over, he slowly but firmly pulled, the tension gradually increasing. As the distance between the bath leg and the collar shortened, her neck was drawn up, and her head tilted back over the rim of the bath. Her back arched to compensate, and her breasts rose above the water's surface. She released an anxious breath.

“It’s okay,” Alexander reassured her, tying the taut belt in a neat bow to hold it in place. Elara was now completely immobilised.

Alexander rose upright on his knees, the new pyramid at the front of his pyjamas parting Elara's wet hair and pressing against the back of the bath. With her head tilted back over the rim, for the first time since they’d spoken, she saw him—his bare chest towering above her like an eclipse. He placed his hands on her shoulders, pausing to admire the newly exposed curve of her body.

He noticed a large freckle at the top of her chest, directly in the centre. His hand instinctively moved there, resting gently before lifting until only the tips of his fingers hovered above her skin. With his right index finger, he slowly traced a circle around the freckle, savouring the feel of her beneath him. His fingertips and eyes drank in the sensation, mesmerised by her beauty—he had never seen anything so perfect.

His fingers explored her face, the collar, and the smooth expanse of her chest with the lightest touch, his movements unhurried, as if time itself had slowed. There was no rush to reach her breasts; he was content to worship every inch of her damp skin. He cherished her as one would a masterpiece, appreciating her with the same reverence as he would a Monet or a pre-Raphaelite painting.

After a while, his fingers glided to her nipples, which were now hard and firm. Playfully, he pinched them before clasping them between his thumb and index finger. He squeezed, slowly increasing the pressure until she let out an audible response, signalling that pressure was too much.

”What are you going to do to me?” she asked, her words struggling to escape through the compression of gentle asphyxiation.

He placed an extended finger over her lips. "Shhh, shhh. You’re mine, and I’m going to do whatever I like to you. Do you trust me?"

“Yes, Sir, completely,” she replied softly.

She tried adjusting her neck, which was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable strapped against the hard metal rim of the roll-top bath tub. Yet, her helplessness only fueled her submissive desire. Her entire body was laid bare before him, completely at his mercy, and there was nothing she could do about it. The slight pain in her neck intensified the moment—it felt wrong, surely this was wrong, she thought, but her pussy twinged in rebellious disagreement.

He started to stand, she felt his hardness drag across the back of her stationary head, the pressure increasing as he rose. It was like a coil tightening, and when he finally stood upright, his pyjama bottoms flicked forward like a spring uncoiling. He rested the length of himself across her face, the darkness of his trousers and the firmness beneath settling over her like a heavy velvet curtain, enclosing her senses completely.

He pulled his pyjamas down, revealing his bare skin and fully extended cock. His balls now rested on her forehead, and his shaft lay across her nose, hanging above her mouth like a diving board.

“Lick it,” he commanded.

She pushed her tongue out, but the angle was wrong—his cock was too far away. “It’s too far,” she said.

”Try harder,” he insisted.

She tilted her chin upwards, trying to comply, but the collar and belt pulled tighter on her neck. “Harder,” he said, his voice firm. “Or you’ll be punished.”

Elara hated to fail at anything. Determined, she stretched her tongue further, struggling to lift her head despite the restraint. “Try harder,” he teased, his tone almost mocking. That was it—she wasn’t going to be beaten. With a surge of resolve, she pulled her hand out of the bath, grabbed his cock, and bent it into her mouth.

After a few brief moments of oral pleasure, he abruptly pulled away and moved to the foot of the bath. Sliding out of her line of sight, he left her feeling exposed. Elara could only catch glimpses of the top of his head as he loomed just beyond her gaze. A sudden awareness crept over her—the vulnerability of her parted legs in the water. Instinctively, she began to draw her knees together, a flicker of apprehension rising within her as she sensed his next move.

His hands seized her knees, gripping firmly as he spread them apart with deliberate force.

“You are mine, and I’m going to have you. Keep your legs spread,” he ordered.

Elara complied.

Alexander then stepped into the bath, his naked figure towering over her. He bent down to grab her ankles, lifting them out of the water and draping each leg over the edge of the tub.

The shift caused her backside to slip, and the collar tightened around her throat, pulling as if she were being prepared for the gallows. Sensing her discomfort, he leaned in and spoke softly, “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything bad happen to you. If you’re unhappy with anything, just say ‘stop,’ and I’ll stop immediately. Sweetie, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to bring you pleasure. But I need to know—are you okay with this?”

She didn’t hesitate in saying, “Yes, Sir.” The excitement coursing through her was undeniable, and she knew Alex would never harm her. His reassuring tone, combined with the intensity of her arousal, kept any fear at bay. She wanted this—she was fully aware they were on the same page, eager to see what would come next. But what she didn’t expect was that Alex had the capability to take things even further than she could have ever imagined.

Alex dropped to his knees as water poured furiously over the sides of the tub, flooding the floor below, but neither of them cared. He lifted her hips slightly, positioning himself, and with a firm yet gentle motion, he entered her. She was so lubricated that the soapy water did nothing to hinder the smoothness of his entry. She felt every inch of him as he slid deep inside her, pressing forwards until he could go no further.

He paused, not thrusting, just holding himself fully inside her. Then, with deliberate care, he reached into the bath and pulled the plug, lifting it in the air for her to see. She understood immediately—the water would drain quickly, and as it did, her body would sink further into the bath, increasing the pressure on her neck.

”I’ll untie the bow around your neck when you cum,” he said. “If you don’t cum quickly as I’m fucking you, you’ll choke.”

Neither of them could quite believe this was happening. They had never even spanked each other before, and now Alex was giving her an ultimatum—either she climaxed, or she would slowly choke as the water drained from the bath.

He began moving inside her, the steady rhythm building as the water surged wildly around them. Waves formed with each thrust, growing stronger, more erratic.

At first, Elara felt overwhelmed—by the water, the splashing sounds, the pressure on her neck, and the relentless rhythm of his body. It was all too much. But then, as he thrust deeper, he murmured, "Come on, sweetie, be a good girl and cum for me." His words grounded her, pulling her into the present moment. Her new submissive mindset tuned into him completely.

“Be a good girl and cum for me," he repeated, his voice rough with desire. The thrusting intensified, each movement sending splashes of water crashing from one end of the bath to the other. Her body rocked helplessly with the waves, the force lifting her up and down as she gripped the sides of the tub for balance. But the pressure on her neck increased as the water levels fell, tightening the restraint around her throat.

Alex thrust harder, his movements becoming more urgent, more frenzied. He could feel her tightening around his cock, her body contracting in response. The water continued to churn, her body sliding helplessly through the tub as the intensity reached its peak. His thrusts became erratic, manic, each one sending another surge of water over the edge. His orgasm built inside him, unstoppable, as the bath and her body both writhed beneath him.

”Cum for me, baby, be a good girl,” he growled, his voice rough with urgency.

They were both past the point of no return. Alex's body demanded release, the tension in his balls unbearable. He thrust harder, faster, each motion a desperate attempt to release the pressure building inside him. Meanwhile, Elara’s mind spiraled into overdrive. All she could hear was good girl echoing through her head, the phrase looping in rhythm with each powerful thrust. Her throat burned, compressed tightly in the collar, lightheadedness creeping in. Deep inside, her pussy was relentlessly pounded, the stimulation overwhelming her senses.

She screamed, the words spilling out uncontrollably. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh…”

“Fuuuck!”

Their climaxes came simultaneously. Alex thrust so hard it felt as though his entire body was pouring into her, his balls pumping in a seemingly endless wave of pleasure, his head thrown back in a primal release. Beneath him, Elara’s body convulsed, her orgasm ripping through her from head to toe like a volcanic eruption, each spasm an explosion of pure ecstasy. Her entire body trembled uncontrollably, caught in the throes of delight, her mind lost in the molten flow of blissful submission.

The moment seemed to stretch on endlessly for both of them. Alex was the first to return to the present, and with a swift tug, he pulled the bow loose, the cords slipping free from the O-ring. Elara slid down into the bath, her body relaxing completely, eyes rolling back as she panted and groaned in total exhaustion.

Alex moved over her, their bodies still connected, and they kissed deeply, their tongues softly massaging each other in a shared celebration of the moment. Each kiss felt like a silent thank you, a mutual acknowledgment of the incredible joy they had just given one another.

After what felt like an eternity of tender kissing, the weight of their bodies reminded them that the bath was now completely empty. They looked at each other, breathless and blissfully content, their eyes filled with happy bewilderment at what they had just experienced.

Alex unfastened the collar and handed it to Elara. "Well," she said with a sly grin, "if that was the first kink of Christmas, I can't wait to complete all twelve!"

“Me too," Alex chuckled, glancing around the flooded bathroom. "But judging by the state of this place, we won’t have a house left by New Year."

They both laughed, pulling each other into a warm embrace. This was a Christmas Day they would never forget. And somewhere, high above the snow-covered rooftops of Mayfair, a wisp of cigar smoke curled lazily into the cold night air. The Marquis, it seemed, was just getting started.