Submit to Me: A Dominant Seduction

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As she waited outside the club, she felt her heart pounding in her chest. This was it – the moment she had been preparing herself for, the moment she had been waiting for.

She had met him online, on a BDSM dating site, and they had immediately clicked. He was a dominant, and she was a submissive. They had chatted and exchanged photos, and she had fallen under his spell.

And now, finally, they were gonna meet. They had arranged to meet at a club that specialized in BDSM, and she had done everything she could to prepare herself. She had put on her best dress, applied makeup carefully, and tied her hair up in a tight bun.

As she entered the club, she was immediately struck by the atmosphere of the place. It was dark, with flickering candles and red velvet curtains. She could hear the sound of people moaning and groaning, and the scent of leather and sweat filled her nostrils.

She scanned the room, looking for him, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw him standing in the corner. He was tall and muscular, with a shaved head and piercing blue eyes. He was wearing black leather pants and an open shirt, revealing a toned and muscular chest.

As she walked towards him, she felt her knees go weak. There was something about him – something in his gaze, in his voice – that made her feel both terrified and excited.

He greeted her with a nod, and they started to talk. He asked her about herself, her desires, her limits. She was truthful with him – she told him that she was a sub, that she yearned to be dominated, that she wanted to submit to him.

He listened carefully, and then he said, “All right. If you truly want to submit to me, then you must prove yourself. Strip.”

Her heart racing, she began to undress. She removed her dress first, revealing her black lace lingerie. Then she unhooked her bra, and finally slipped off her panties.

He watched her silently, his eyes roaming over her body. She felt exposed – vulnerable – but at the same time, she felt a thrill of excitement, a sense of freedom.

“Good,” he said, and then he took her by the arm and led her to a spacious room at the back of the club.

Inside, there was a large four-poster bed, covered with black satin sheets. There were also some chains and handcuffs hanging from the walls.

He led her to the bed, and instructed her to lay down on her stomach. Then he tied her wrists and ankles to the posts of the bed.

She was completely at his mercy now.

He began to run his hands over her body, touching her breasts, stroking her thighs, spanking her ass. She moaned and writhed beneath him, her body trembling with pleasure.

Then he entered her from behind, thrusting hard and deep, claiming her as his own.

She surrendered completely, submitting to his every desire. She felt his hands grip her hair, pulling her head back, his teeth sinking into her flesh.

She screamed with pleasure and pain, lost in the intensity of the moment.

And as he reached the peak of his pleasure, he whispered in her ear, “You are mine. Forever.”

And with those words, she knew that he had truly claimed her, body and soul. She had submitted to him, completely and utterly, and in doing so, she had found a freedom that she had never known before.

And for the rest of the night, she lay on her back, her hands and feet restrained, and let him do with her as he wished – and she loved every moment of it.

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