The lights were dim, casting long shadows across the sleek, polished floors of The Atrium, an exclusive BDSM club where only the most elite watched, judged, and played.
Tonight, she was the entertainment.
She stood inside the Glass Room, a transparent, soundproofed cube at the center of the lounge. People lingered around it, sipping expensive whiskey, their eyes locked on her as if she were nothing more than an exhibit. An object. A possession. A toy.
Behind her, Alexander, her Dominant, loomed like a shadow. Dressed in tailored black, his presence was effortless control. The glass reflected his sharp jawline, the wicked smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He was enjoying this.
And why wouldn’t he?
She was already trembling.
She could hear nothing but the steady rhythm of her breathing. The soundproofing made sure of that. But she knew the crowd could hear everything. Every gasp. Every moan. Every soft, shuddering whimper when he touched her.
And that was the game.
To make her forget that she had an audience.
To make her lose herself so completely that she had no choice but to surrender, knowing they were watching.
Alexander stepped forward, his breath hot against her neck.
“Do you feel them staring at you?”
Her pulse pounded.
“Yes, Sir.”
A single finger traced the side of her throat, trailing down, lower, lower, until it hovered just above the edge of her dress.
A whisper. “Good. Then let’s give them a show.”
The heat of Alexander’s breath lingered against her ear. “Take off your dress.”
Her stomach clenched.
The room outside the glass was silent, but she could feel them, the weight of their eyes pressing in, drinking in her hesitation.
She swallowed hard. Her fingers trembled as they reached for the zipper.
Hesitation.
A mistake.
A sharp smack landed across her thigh, the sound loud enough that she knew they had heard it. She gasped, her body jerking at the sting.
“Faster.”
Her heart pounded as she obeyed, dragging the fabric down her shoulders, past the curve of her hips, letting it pool at her feet.
Exposed.
The glass reflected everything, the hard peaks of her nipples, the way her chest rose and fell too quickly, the way her thighs clenched together as if she could hide herself.
Alexander chuckled. “You’re trying to be modest? Here?”
Her cheeks burned. She had nowhere to hide.
He stepped behind her, fingers trailing down her spine, painfully slow. He leaned in again, lips just at the shell of her ear.
“Hands on the glass.”
She stiffened.
A pause.
“Now.”
She obeyed.
Her palms pressed against the smooth, cold surface. The glass was slick beneath her fingertips, and she swore she could feel the heat of their stares through it.
Alexander’s hands were nowhere and everywhere at once, ghosting down her sides, gripping her hips, spreading her open just enough to shatter what little dignity she had left.
“Look at them.”
She hesitated.
Another sharp smack, this time to her ass, making her yelp.
“I said, look at them.”
Her eyes flicked up.
They were watching.
Faces bathed in dim light, sipping drinks, their expressions unreadable, some amused, some hungry, all waiting.
Waiting for her to break.
Her breath fogged the glass.
She could see them, every set of eyes locked on her, every smirk, every lingering gaze. She wasn’t just on display. She was trapped inside their fantasy.
And Alexander knew it.
He pressed forward, his chest firm against her back, forcing her harder against the glass. The cool surface kissed her bare skin, amplifying the heat that burned beneath it.
“Spread your legs.”
Her fingers twitched against the glass.
He grabbed her hips, dragging her into place before she could hesitate.
A ripple of movement from the crowd. A shift in posture. They were leaning in now. Watching more closely.
A whisper at her ear. “You wanted their attention, didn’t you?”
She shook her head, a mistake.
Alexander’s hand slid around her throat, squeezing just enough to hold her still.
“Liar.”
His free hand traveled lower, spreading her wider, making sure they could see. Her reflection showed everything, flushed skin, parted lips, the way she trembled under his touch.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Another mistake.
“Look at them.”
She forced herself to obey, her lashes fluttering open.
They weren’t just watching. They were enjoying it.
Someone whispered something to a companion. Another sipped their drink, a slow smirk curling their lips. She wasn’t just a submissive in this moment, she was entertainment.
A sharp slap against the inside of her thigh made her jolt.
“Don’t hide from them. Let them see how much you love this.”
She whimpered, cheeks burning, body betraying her.
Alexander leaned in, his voice a dark promise.
“They’ll remember you after tonight. Every single one of them.”
The glass was fogged with her breath, her body trapped between the cold surface and Alexander’s relentless control.
She could barely think, only feel.
His grip tightened on her throat. Just enough to remind her. Just enough to make her pulse hammer in her veins.
“You’re shaking,” he murmured, his lips just behind her ear. “But you’re not trying to stop me.”
She didn’t answer.
She couldn’t.
Her reflection stared back at her, cheeks flushed, lips parted, body trembling under his touch. She saw herself as they saw her, a plaything, a living exhibit, a submissive completely unraveled.
They knew.
And the shame only made the fire burn hotter.
Alexander knew it, too.
“Tell them,” he ordered. “Tell them what you are.”
Her breath hitched.
The silence in the club was thick, waiting, expectant. The audience wasn’t just watching anymore, they were anticipating.
She swallowed.
“I’m yours.”
A pause.
Not enough.
His fingers tightened just enough to steal the breath from her lungs. “Say it so they hear you.”
She trembled, her body screaming, her pride shattering.
“I’m yours!”
The words echoed against the glass, ringing loud and unavoidable.
A slow ripple of movement in the crowd, satisfied smirks, knowing glances. They had heard.
Alexander’s grip loosened, his lips brushing her temple, a final act of ownership. “Good girl.”
The Glass Room was no longer a silent spectacle, but a cocoon of raw, carnivorous desire. With a flick of his wrist, Alexander secured her wrists to the restraints attached to the glass, stretching her arms above her head.
He stepped back, allowing the eager gazes of the elite to feast upon her quivering, exposed flesh. He began his symphony of pain and pleasure, each touch a masterful stroke that made her body arch and her back bow. His calloused hands roamed her curves, his fingertips tracing the lines of her supple breasts, teasing the darkened areolae of her nipples until they stood tall and proud, begging for more.
He knelt behind her, his hot breath ghosting over her ass as he spread her cheeks, exposing her tight, puckered asshole and the wetness that coated her pussy. His tongue dipped into her, tasting her arousal, making her whine and squirm against the cold glass. He chuckled darkly at her reactions, a sadistic artist savoring the canvas of her body.
With a flick of his thumb, he spread her slick folds, revealing the swollen nub of her clit. The room beyond held its breath as he leaned in, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud, eliciting a scream that was muffled by the thick glass.
The crowd’s eyes were glued to the show, their own hunger reflected in the way they leaned closer, as if they could taste her sweetness from afar. He plunged two thick fingers inside her, pumping them in and out, her cunt tightening around him.
The sound of wet, carnivorous fucking filled the space, bouncing off the walls, and she knew that outside, the whispers grew louder, the excitement palpable. The brutal dance of BDSM had begun, and she was the star, his plaything, his whore, his to command and conquer.
Alexander’s fingers curled inside her, hitting that perfect spot with a precision that sent her spiraling closer to the edge.
The crowd leaned in, their whispers turning to hungry growls as they watched her body contort with pleasure. She felt the pressure building, a delicious, unbearable tension that coiled in her belly like a snake ready to strike. Her pussy clenched around his digits, the wetness of her arousal smearing against the glass as he pumped faster, harder.
His thumb began to circle her clit, pressing down with just the right amount of force. Her breath fogged the glass as she panted, trying to find purchase, trying to escape the overwhelming sensation building within her.
And then it hit, a powerful, soul-shaking orgasm that made her entire body spasm and convulse.
Her juices gushed out, spraying against the glass like a fountain, the evidence of her pleasure clearly visible to the eager voyeurs outside. She screamed, her voice a high-pitched wail that was muffled only by the thickness of the barrier.
The room beyond went wild, applause and cheers echoing through the lounge as they watched the spectacle of her climax, her body quivering and her legs trembling uncontrollably.
The warmth of her squirt painted the glass, a testament to her utter submission and his masterful control. The sight was obscene, erotic, and utterly humiliating.
But she couldn’t help the wave of ecstasy that crashed over her, the way her body sang with each pulse of release.
And through the haze of pleasure, she heard him whisper,
“Look at them, watching you come apart. They’re all yours, too, if you can take it.”
The challenge in his voice only served to excite her more, her pussy still pulsing around his fingers. She knew what came next would push her even further, and the anticipation was almost as sweet as the orgasm that still lingered in her trembling limbs.
Thank you for stepping into my world. If this entry stirred something in you, show your love with a clap, leave a comment, and dive deeper into desire.
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