"Submissive Under the Heel" The red light bathed the room, casting dense shadows on the walls. Clara was in the center, dressed in a black corset that molded her waist, lace stockings and high heels that tapped firmly on the floor, like the rhythm of the power she wielded. In her hands, a leather leash and a short whip, rolled lazily around her fingers. At her feet, on all fours, was the sissy — whom she called only “Lola” — with her mouth painted red, her eyes submissive, her body trembling and dressed only in tiny white lace panties. “Get on your knees, Lola,” Clara ordered, her tone firm but full of desire. Lola obeyed immediately, lifting her chin and exposing her neck. Clara fastened the collar around it, tightening it until she felt her breathing quicken. “Do you know why you are here?” she asked, as she pulled the leash, forcing Lola to tilt her head back. — To serve you, Mistress… — she replied, already out of breath. Clara smiled at the corner of her mouth and, without ceremony, gave her face a firm slap, only to feel the warm skin under her palm. — Exactly. And you will serve me with every part of that ridiculous and delicious body. The Domme walked around the submissive, her heels clicking on the floor. She stopped behind her, pulled her lacy panties to the side and slid a finger, slowly, between her open thighs. — Wet… As always — she teased. Lola gasped, squeezing her knees, but Clara gave a sharp tug on the leash. — No! Spread those legs wide. I want to see everything. Lola obeyed, exposing herself completely. Clara ran the tip of the whip across her thighs and, suddenly, cracked a sharp blow on her skin, marking it with a red line. — Thank you. — Thank you, Mistress… — Lola moaned, biting her lip. Another blow. Harder. — Louder! — THANK YOU, MISTRESS! Clara smiled with satisfaction and bent down, licking the newly made mark, feeling the warm taste of her skin. Then she grabbed Lola by the hair and pulled her to her groin. “Show me that you know how to use that mouth.” Lola didn’t hesitate: her tongue slid obediently over the skin, while Clara held her head firmly, guiding her movements, squeezing, forcing more and more, until the sissy was panting, drooling, not knowing for sure if she was asking for air or more pleasure. Clara let go of her hair and slapped her wet cheek hard. “Ridiculous. Look at you: a little slut on her knees, begging to be used.” Lola moaned with pure lust. “Turn around, on all fours. Now.” Lola obeyed, offering herself in an obscene way. Clara grabbed the plug that was on the table, lubricated it skillfully and, without much ceremony, pressed it against the submissive’s exposed entrance, who moaned loudly as she felt the object settle inside her. “You’ll only cum when I let you, understand?” — Yes, Mistress… — she answered, her voice breaking. Clara then positioned herself behind her and, with one hand, began to stimulate the plug, turning it slowly, while with the other she pulled the sissy’s hair, forcing her head back, making her arch even more. — You’re on the verge of orgasm, aren’t you? — Clara whispered, biting Lola’s earlobe. — Yes… Mistress… I can’t take it anymore… Clara laughed maliciously. — Then hold on. She let go of the plug, leaving the submissive moaning, frustrated, and walked to the mirror. — Come here, Lola. On your knees. Lola crawled, her knees already marked by the carpet. Clara pointed in front of the mirror. — Look at yourself. See what you are: my property. A mounted, marked and horny little slut. Lola stared at her reflection: smeared makeup, red marks on her skin, the plug visible, her breathing panting. — Beg for me, Lola. I want to hear it. — Please, Mistress… let me cum… Please… I’m yours… only yours… Clara lifted the submissive’s chin with the tip of her heel, leaned in and whispered: — Cum. And, as if those words were the final key, Lola exploded in an intense orgasm, writhing on the floor, moaning loudly, her entire body in spasms. Clara watched, satisfied, unhurried. When the submissive finally collapsed, exhausted, Clara bent down, took off her collar and gently caressed her face. — Very good, my sissy… you gave me exactly what I wanted. Lola smiled, still breathless, and rested her head on the Domme’s lap, while Clara lit a cigarette, contemplating her work. In that room, between moans, orders and absolute surrender, they both knew: there was no room for doubt. Only for desire, raw and uncontrollable.