BDSM Stories: Bound in Her Power Part 1
September 7, 2024
This day wasn’t just another routine slog through the hours. Sure, it looked like it from the outside—the sun hanging high like a nosy neighbor, the wind lazily pushing the trees around, and the usual sound of footsteps from the apartment above. It was a day like any other, except it wasn’t. As she rolled over, the blaring screech of her alarm shot through the air like a gunshot.
Waking up was a daily battle she rarely won. That damned alarm was a necessary evil. She’d always struggled with self-control when it came to sleep, the only lack of self-control that she exhibited, so she had to outsmart herself, placing her phone on the opposite side of the room before bed. The morning light barely sneaked through the thick curtains, casting a faint glow on her bare legs as she dragged herself out of bed. Today wasn’t just another day. Today, she’d seize the reins of her life.

Ending the Workday, Starting Something Else
By the time the workday finally fizzled out, she fired off her last email with a sense of finality. Being a therapist meant her brain rarely switched off, but she had a knack for drawing the line between work and the rest of her life. With the door to her office securely locked, she tucked the key into her small handbag—a bag that was a study in organization. Inside, plastic dividers kept the chaos at bay, each item in its own place, like her life was about to be.
She bid her colleagues goodbye, some getting hugs, others just a nod. She loved these people, there was no question about that. Their laughter lingered in the air as she left, that sense of the warmth she brought into their lives. “A kinder soul you’ll never find,” they always said. But tonight, that kindness was going to take a backseat. This was her night. The night when everything she’d been holding inside would finally get out.
The Journey to the Dark Side
As she navigated the city’s veins of asphalt, her mind buzzed with anticipation. This was it. The moment she’d been inching toward for months. The streetlights whizzed by, their glow streaking across her windshield as if urging her forward. Car after car blurred into a background that barely registered. She was in the zone, following the same familiar route, until she reached that building. A looming, gothic structure that had whispered its dark secrets to the city for years. Some called it a cult’s lair, others claimed it was a slaughterhouse for teenagers. But those in the know understood its real purpose. This was the home of BDSM, the place where desires weren’t just met but celebrated.
She stepped inside, her heels clicking on the concrete, the sound bouncing off the bare walls of the long corridor. The cold air inside was a sharp contrast to the humid night outside. When she reached the massive wooden door, she didn’t hesitate. Her hand gripped the cold steel ring of the handle, pulling it open with a slow, deliberate motion. Her other hand rested on the solid steel bar, grounding her in what was about to happen.

Greeting the Devoted
As the door clicked shut behind her, she let out a single phrase, sharp and cutting through the air like a whip: “Hello, cunt.” The man kneeling on the floor looked up, his pale face framed by dark hair that fell in greasy strands across his forehead. His eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that spoke of devotion, a twisted kind of love that only someone in his position could feel. She crossed the room, each step measured, her long legs peeking through the slit of her black dress as she moved. The dress clung to her like a second skin, revealing just enough to make him burn with need.
Once she was seated, his gaze dropped to the floor, exactly where it belonged. His submission was absolute, a given. She reached into her bag, pulling out a small velvet box. The room was a cavernous space, cold and echoing with the faintest sounds, the wooden walls and towering arched windows barely holding back the chill of the night. But none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was what was about to happen.
The Black Chain of Power
She opened the box, revealing a chain. Black as sin, with a single gold ring dangling from it, it was a symbol of everything that was about to change. She let the chain slither across her exposed thigh, the cold metal biting against her warm skin. Then, with two fingers under his chin, she lifted his face to meet hers. “Up,” she commanded, her voice a mix of authority and calm that made it impossible to resist.
He obeyed, lifting his head, his eyes filled with an almost religious reverence. She was his world, his everything. “Today,” she began, her voice steady and sure, “we formalize our commitment. But let’s be clear—this is not just about us. There are other priorities in life. Your kids, your marriage—they come first. Always. Do you accept that?”
Without missing a beat, he replied, “I accept.” His hand trembled slightly as he reached down to pick up the small white leash lying next to him. He held it up to her, offering it like a sacrificial lamb. “I offer this leash to you. Guide me, lead me through life. It’s my deepest desire to belong to you and follow wherever you go.”

Sealing the Deal
“I accept,” she said, her eyes never leaving his. The words hung in the air like a vow, unbreakable and binding. She took the leash, attaching it to the gold ring on the chain now around his neck. “From this moment, you belong to me. Your journey is now mine. I will lead you, protect you, make sure you’re safe, because your life is intertwined with mine.”
He lowered his head again, his voice barely a whisper but charged with emotion. “I kneel as a sign of my submission to you. This chain, this leash is not just metal. It’s a symbol of my commitment, my acceptance of your ownership. I will wear it with pride, serve you with everything I have, and trust that you’ll always have my best interests at heart. My submission is my gift to you, freely given, and it will never become a burden. I am yours, Mistress.”
The leash clicked into place, and with it, the last vestiges of his old life fell away. She smiled, her gaze softening as she spoke again. “You’re mine now. And with that comes responsibility. I will honor your feelings, your needs. I’ll care for you, because you’re a part of me. Your happiness is my duty, your well-being my concern. We are one now, and that’s not something I take lightly.”

Bound and Commanded
She adjusted her stockings with deliberate care, her thumb and forefinger pinching just under the rim, pulling them taut against her skin. The stockings hugged her thighs, the fabric clinging to her. Standing up, she allowed a slow, almost predatory smile to cross her face as she extended her arm. Her long fingernails, sharp and painted a deep crimson, scraped lightly over his scalp, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine. “Come,” she commanded, her voice a low, steady growl that left no room for hesitation.
Her feet began to move across the cold, hard floor, the sound of her heels echoing in the silence. He crawled behind her, every muscle in his body tensed with anticipation, his head lowered in a show of submission. The once-powerful man had been reduced to something primal, obedient, and utterly subservient. They reached the arched frame, its structure imposing and unforgiving, metal at the top, padded leather around the legs. It stood like a silent sentinel in the room, waiting to bear witness to what was about to unfold.
Binding Him in Leather
Without a word, she took the set of leather cuffs from a nearby table. The smell of the leather was rich and intoxicating. She wrapped the cuffs around his wrists and ankles, the leather creaking as she tightened them. The cold metal of the chains rattled slightly as she reached up, grabbing them with practiced ease. One by one, she snapped the chains to each cuff, securing him in place. His ankles first, then his wrists, until he was suspended before her, his body stretched and vulnerable.
Once he was hoisted into position, she took a step back to admire her work. He hung there, exposed and at her mercy, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. She moved closer, her hand darting out with lightning speed to grab his swollen balls. Her grip was tight, unyielding, causing a gasp to escape his lips. She squeezed just enough to make him feel her power, but not enough to cause pain—just enough to remind him who was in control.
“I bind you not out of punishment,” she whispered, her voice laced with a dark, seductive promise, “but as the first act and display of the ownership I have over you, and the power I wield.” She released her grip, her fingers sliding away from his sensitive flesh. The relief was short-lived as she reached up to take his long, throbbing member in the palm of her hand. Her eyes locked onto his, her gaze piercing through him as if she could see straight into his soul.
Her Ultimate Command
“You belong to me,” she continued, her tone calm and measured, yet dripping with authority. “Body, mind, and soul. And now you’re going to cum for me.” Her long, slender fingers curled around his cock, the coolness of her skin a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his. She gripped him tightly, squeezing his flesh with a force that left no room for doubt. He was hers. Every inch of him belonged to her.
With each stroke, she pushed him closer to the edge, her hand moving with a practiced rhythm that spoke of experience and precision. The tension in the room thickened, the air charged with a palpable electricity as his breath hitched, his body trembling under her touch. Now she controlled his very essence, his every thought, every desire. She knew exactly what he needed, what he craved, and she was going to give it to him, but only when she decided.
“Cum for me,” she commanded once more, her grip tightening as she leaned in closer, her breath hot against his ear. The words were not a request but an order, one that he could not resist even if he wanted to. His body obeyed her, as it always would, the release building within him until it could no longer be contained. And as he finally let go, surrendering completely to her will, he knew that this was only the beginning.
To Be Continued…

[…] helpless, and weakly pulled at the chains, each clink of metal echoing around the empty room. How long had it been? Hours blurred into days, days felt like weeks. He’d counted two sunsets through the towering […]