The room was drenched in gold and velvet, thick with cigar smoke and the low murmur of conversation. Crystal chandeliers flickered above, casting shifting shadows over the crowd, men and women draped in silk, leather, and power, their laughter rich, their indulgence limitless.
And in the center of it all, him.
Liam knelt on the marble floor, naked, the collar at his throat locked tight. His wrists were bound behind him in a silk restraint that felt more like a mockery than a mercy. The heat of humiliation flushed through his body, but nothing burned more than the weight of their gazes, watching, waiting.
Above him, lounging on a velvet chaise, sat her.
Celeste.
A vision of elegance, of cruelty wrapped in gold, her red dress slipping off one shoulder, exposing the smooth line of her collarbone. A cigarette rested between her fingers, the smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling as she exhaled, bored. She had spent the evening parading him around, forcing him to kneel at her feet while the room observed. But now, she was ready for something more.
She tilted her head, regarding him as if he were nothing more than an object, something to be used, discarded, played with. “You’ve been so quiet tonight, pet,” she murmured, tapping ash onto the floor. “Have you not enjoyed your evening?”
Liam swallowed hard, his throat dry. “Yes, Mistress.”
She smiled, slow and indulgent. “Good. Then let’s make it even more fun.”
She snapped her fingers.
A man stepped forward from the crowd, tall, broad, dressed in tailored black. He was an elegant kind of menace, a smirk playing at his lips as he knelt in front of Liam, studying him like a wolf might study something fragile before it broke.
Celeste leaned back against the chaise, watching the way Liam’s breathing quickened.
“You see, my dear,” she purred, dragging one perfectly manicured nail along the rim of her champagne glass, “it’s not enough to be humiliated for me. I want to see how far I can break you for them.”
Liam’s stomach clenched. His pulse pounded. He knew better than to hesitate.
Celeste exhaled a slow, amused sigh. “Open your mouth, pet.”
The weight of the room crushed him. The laughter, the whispers, the anticipation. This was what he was for now.
And as he obeyed, his lips parting, Celeste smiled.
“That’s my good boy. Now show them just how low you can go.”
The man in black reached forward, his fingers brushing over Liam’s jaw, tilting his face up further.
“Look at you,” he murmured, amusement thick in his tone. “Already shaking, already so fucking ruined.”
Liam’s breath hitched. His throat burned with the weight of anticipation, his body tense, waiting for the inevitable.
Celeste smirked, taking another slow drag of her cigarette.
“Let’s see if you can earn the privilege of being here, pet.”
She leaned forward, voice dark and dripping with amusement.
“Tell them. Tell them what you are.”
Liam’s breath came in short, shallow pants. “I…I’m your worthless fucktoy, Mistress.”
A chuckle from the crowd. The heat of humiliation burned through him, but his cock twitched between his thighs, betraying him.
Celeste exhaled slowly, tapping her cigarette against the rim of her glass.
“Louder. Let every person in this room hear you.”
Liam’s voice shook. “I’m your worthless fucktoy, Mistress!”
The laughter rippled again, richer this time. Someone whistled low under their breath. The man in black reached down, brushing his knuckles against Liam’s cheek before gripping his chin, forcing him to hold eye contact.
“Good little pet,” he murmured. “But I don’t think they believe you yet.”
Celeste smirked.
“No, I don’t think so either.” She leaned forward, exhaling a final stream of smoke before dropping the still-lit cigarette into the champagne glass.
“One last thing, pet. I want you to beg for me. Beg for your place beneath me. Beg to be nothing.”
Liam’s stomach clenched. His face burned. But the moment she snapped her fingers, the last piece of him crumbled.
His forehead pressed to the floor.
“Please, Mistress. Please let me serve you. Let me be your nothing. Let me prove that I don’t deserve dignity, that I don’t deserve anything except what you allow me.”
Celeste let the silence stretch. Then.
She reached down, grabbing the leash at his collar and yanking him up until their faces were inches apart. “You’re going to prove it,” she murmured, her voice dangerously soft.
“And when you’re finished, you’re going to thank every person in this room for watching you fall.”
The crowd leaned in. Waiting. Hungry.
Liam’s lips trembled.
Celeste smiled.
“Now. Show them.”
The man in black stood, his gaze never leaving Liam’s. With a casual flick of his wrist, the silk restraints fell away, leaving Liam’s wrists red and sensitive. He leaned in, his warm breath ghosting over Liam’s ear.
“You know what to do,” he whispered, and then he was gone, leaving Liam exposed and trembling before the crowd. Celeste’s eyes gleamed with excitement, her fingers tracing the outline of her full, red lips.
“Begin,” she said simply, her voice a whip crack through the air.
Liam took a shaky breath, feeling the cold marble against his knees, the heat of his own arousal against his thighs. He knew the game. He knew his role.
Slowly, he began to crawl, his eyes downcast, his body moving with a grace that belied the tremble in his muscles. Each movement brought him closer to the edge of the dais, closer to the first set of watching eyes.
He felt the weight of their stares, the hunger in their gazes, and it was as if their desire fueled his own.
As he approached the first woman, he paused, her scent, sweet and musky, filling his nose. She was dressed in a gown that left nothing to the imagination, her breasts pushed up and out, her nipples hard and begging to be sucked.
He leaned in, his mouth hovering just above her foot.
“Thank you for watching, Mistress,” he murmured, planting a soft kiss on her toes before continuing his crawl.
The woman’s eyes widened, a hand coming to her chest as she giggled behind a gloved hand. The sound was like music to Celeste’s ears, a symphony of power and control. She watched with rapt attention as her pet made his way around the room, whispering his gratitude, kissing the feet of the powerful, the rich, the beautiful.
And with every foot, every humiliating act, Liam felt himself sink deeper into the role. His cock grew harder, his breathing more ragged. He was a creature of desire now, a living, breathing manifestation of their amusement. And he loved it.
The tension grew, a palpable force in the air. He could feel it coiling around him, tightening, ready to snap. He reached the next person, a man with a smug smile, and kissed his shoe.
“Thank you, Sir,” he whispered, his voice a plea.
The man’s smile grew, his hand coming to stroke Liam’s hair.
“Very good,” he said, his voice deep and satisfied. “You really know your place.”
Liam’s heart raced. He did. He knew his place. He was theirs. He was Celeste’s. And he was about to show them just how much he belonged here.
With a wicked grin, Celeste stood, the fabric of her dress whispering against her skin as she approached Liam.
“You’ve done well, pet,” she purred, “but let’s take this to the next level, shall we?”
She turned to the room, raising an eyebrow.
“Who’s next? Who’s eager to see how far my little slut will go for his Mistress?”
The crowd buzzed with excitement, eager for the next act of debasement.
A man stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with anticipation, his erection pressing against the fabric of his trousers. Celeste nodded, her grip on the leash tightening.
“On your knees,” she ordered, and Liam obeyed, his heart racing. “And remember, you are nothing without my permission. Now, show us all how much you crave to serve.”
The man unbuckled his belt, his cock springing free, large and proud.
Liam’s eyes widened, but he didn’t hesitate. He leaned in, his mouth watering as he took the swollen tip into his mouth, feeling the warm, velvety skin against his lips. The room fell silent, every eye on the show of submission.
He could feel the man’s excitement, the pulsing need, and it only made him want to give more, to serve more. He sucked eagerly, his tongue swirling around the head, his cheeks hollowing with every bob of his head.
Celeste watched, her own arousal evident in the way she licked her lips, the way she stroked the leather crop in her hand.
“Good boy,” she murmured, the praise sending a shiver down his spine. “But let’s not forget your manners. Ask him if he enjoys your mouth.”
Liam pulled away, panting, and looked up. “Do you enjoy my mouth, Sir?”
The man chuckled, stroking Liam’s hair. “Very much,” he replied, his voice thick with lust.
Celeste leaned in, her breath warm against Liam’s ear. “Keep going,” she whispered, “and maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you cum.”
The room watched, spellbound, as Liam descended again, taking more of the man’s cock into his mouth, his throat working to accommodate the size. It was a dance of power and pleasure, and he was the star performer, eager to satisfy his audience, and his Mistress.
Liam’s world narrowed to the man’s cock, to the feel of the velvety skin sliding over his tongue, the taste of pre-cum, the sound of the man’s breath hitching with every stroke. His own arousal was a pulsing ache, his balls tight with need, his cock straining against his belly.
The man’s hand gripped his hair, guiding him, setting the rhythm that had them both on the edge of oblivion. Celeste’s eyes burned into him, her smile a mix of triumph and hunger, the crop in her hand stroking the man’s thigh in time with Liam’s movements.
The tension grew, the air thick with it, until it was all he could breathe, until he could feel it coiling around his cock, tightening, demanding release. The man’s hips began to thrust, his movements growing erratic, and Liam knew he was close. He moaned around the thick shaft, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through the man, making him buck his hips harder. And then.
With a groan, the man came, spurts of hot, sticky cum filling Liam’s mouth. He swallowed greedily, eager to please, eager to be filled. The crowd erupted in applause, their laughter and cheers echoing through the room, a symphony of depravity.
Celeste stepped closer, her eyes dark with desire.
“Now,” she whispered, her voice a silken command, “Thank your audience.”
Liam pulled away, cum dribbling down his chin, and looked up at the sea of faces. He took a shaky breath and whispered, “Thank you, Mistress…thank you for watching.”
The room grew still, the anticipation palpable. Celeste stepped back, the crop coming down sharply on his ass, the sting making him yelp.
“You’re mine,” she said, her voice a low growl. “Mine to use, mine to pleasure, mine to break.”
And with that, she led him away, the room parting before them like a sea of sin. The night had only just begun, and Liam knew he would give her every piece of himself, every drop of his soul. Because in the end, that was all he had ever truly wanted. To be her plaything, her toy, her obsession.
And as they disappeared into the shadows, the sound of their laughter trailing behind them, the room was left to wonder, who was truly in charge here? The one with the whip, or the one on the leash?
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.
📖 Subscribe | 📚 Amazon Author Page | ☕ Buy Me a Coffee