Eyes on the mirror, wildflower. Don't you dare look away."
His voice cut through the heavy air, sharp and commanding, as I knelt before the tall, polished mirror.
My wrists were bound behind my back, the soft leather cuffs digging slightly into my skin, a reminder of my restraint. My ankles were spread just enough to keep me anchored, a thin chain connecting my collar to the base of the mirror, holding me in place like a prized possession.
Behind me, he stood in silence, watching. Studying.
His presence was suffocating, like a storm brewing just out of reach. I could feel his gaze tracing every curve, every tremble, every inch of my exposed body.
The flickering candlelight danced across my skin, casting shadows that seemed to pulse with my heartbeat. I was on display, and he knew it.
"Look at yourself," he murmured, his voice low and deliberate, sending shivers down my spine. "Tell me what you see."
I hesitated, my breath catching in my throat. My reflection stared back at me—flushed cheeks, glassy eyes, lips parted in a silent plea. My chest rose and fell too quickly, betraying the tremble deep within me. I looked… wrecked. Owned. And he hadn't even laid a finger on me yet.
"Now," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for disobedience.
"I see…" My voice wavered, barely above a whisper. "I see myself."
He clicked his tongue disapprovingly, stepping closer until his warmth pressed against my back. One hand slid into my hair, fingers tangling gently but firmly, grounding me. Claiming me. "That's not what I asked, wildflower. Look again."
My breath hitched as I stared at my reflection. My pulse quickened, my skin prickling with anticipation. "I see… a girl waiting to be used."
He leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear, his breath hot and teasing. "Better. Try again."
"I see… your toy," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Your plaything."
He chuckled softly, a dark, velvety sound that sent a thrill through me. "Still too soft."
His hand moved down, fingertips grazing the side of my neck, tracing the edge of the collar as if it were something sacred. Then he stepped in front of me, crouching down until we were eye-level in the mirror. Our reflections sat side by side—one wild-eyed and trembling, the other calm, dominant, utterly in control.
"I see a girl who is ready to be ruined," he said softly, his voice dripping with intent. "Someone aching for surrender. For obedience. For everything she's too scared to ask for out loud."
His hand traced down the center of my chest, stopping just above my navel, and I shuddered at the contact. "And you see it too, don't you?"
I nodded, tears pricking my lashes, not from pain but from the raw truth in his words. He reached behind me, pulling a remote from his pocket, and with a soft click, the vibrator inside me buzzed to life—low and steady.
My body jolted forward, a soft moan escaping my lips.
"Eyes. On. The mirror," he snapped, gripping my jaw and forcing me to look. The sensation burned through me, and I moaned again, watching myself squirm in the reflection. My thighs trembled, my lips parted as pleasure began to take over.
"This," he whispered, his voice a dangerous caress, "is who you are when you stop pretending."
He stood up again, towering behind me in the mirror's reflection. His hand reached around, pinching my nipple sharply, and pain bloomed, sharp and electric. I gasped, my back arching instinctively.
"Do you like seeing what I do to you?" he asked, his voice cool and calculated.
"Yes," I breathed, my voice barely audible.
"Say it properly," he demanded, his grip tightening.
"Yes, daddy," I gasped, the words spilling out before I could stop them.
He smiled, slow and satisfied, and the vibrator inside me intensified. My knees wobbled, my body threatening to collapse, but the chain at my collar held me upright, a silent reminder of my place.
He leaned down again, his lips grazing the side of my throat, and whispered in my ear, "Beg me to let you fall apart."
"I—I want to…" My voice broke, desperation clawing at me. "Please, daddy. Please let me come. I need it. I need you."
I saw myself say it. The way my voice trembled, the rawness in my face, the desperate arch of my back. All of it laid bare in the mirror.
"Then watch yourself as you break," he said, his voice dark and commanding.
The vibrator clicked to its highest setting, and his fingers slipped between my legs, pressing hard against my clit while the toy buzzed relentlessly inside me. I screamed, my eyes locked on the mirror.
Every ripple of pleasure. Every twist of my mouth. Every spasm of my thighs. He made me watch it all.
And when I finally collapsed into his arms, boneless and shaking, the chain gently loosened. He caught me like I was precious.