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Red Room - Simon - 11-20-2025
She seemed to be unaware of the ripple of craning necks and bashful smiles that followed her every movement throughout our office. More than that, she was bright and charming and without even trying, she had us all eating out of her hand.
At the end of the day, she would sometimes be picked up by her boyfriend. We could all only speculate as to what kind of prince managed to convince this woman to be with him. Surely, he would be the best of the best: the kindest, the smartest, the most deserving.
I learned later that that wasn’t the case.
I didn’t know her well at first, but when we needed an extra pair of hands, she was sent on recommendation to my department to help out. We started off as tea break friends, and then then graduated to lunch friends and then to sit-giggling-with-one-another-when-we-should-be-working friends. I learned then that she was darkly funny, incredibly shy, and very unhappy at home.
He was casually mean, wilfully ignorant and emotionally neglectful. She revealed the truth around the edges at first, and as she became more confident and comfortable in my company, she would reveal more. How he would criticise her clothes, accuse her of being a flirt with his friends, and ignore her for days at a time.
And he would shame her. When she would suggest things like spanking and restraints, he would crinkle his nose and call her a pervert.
That’s when I learned she was kinky, and that’s when I told her that I was too. A line had been crossed, and I felt an immediate crackle of electricity in the air when we spoke. She asked questions, and those questions generated more questions. She was visibly flustered but in no way enough to stop asking more and more and more. We had revealed ourselves to one another. It felt dangerous, yet safe.
So, eventually, I told her about the Red Room.
The Red Room was my kink space. The place I brought only a select few people with whom I could trust and with whom I could play. It was a place that would seal the world away the moment the door closed. A forgetting chamber. In the Red Room, she has no boyfriend. No job. No earthy concerns. I told her that in the Red Room, she existed only as my submissive. The object of my obsession. And would be spoiled and used in equal measure.
Her cheeks burned, and the way she held my gaze let me know my invitation had been accepted.
And now she’s here. I tell her to dress in something sheer, to wear heels, and to go ahead of me and wait for me on the bed. I left her there alone at first, knowing the nerves and excitement would make her submissive cunt throb. I walk in, and she doesn’t see me at first—instead, she’s touching her own body as if exploring it for the first time, admiring the picture she has painted for me.
When she does see me, her eyes widen. I am still fully clothed while she is presented for my gaze—she surely feels vulnerable. I wait for the smallest beat, taking in her hunger and allowing my fingers to touch her face. I want to savour this moment. I want her to feel safe and owned as if nothing else exists but the Red Room.
And then I lean in, and we breathe into one another as we share our first kiss. My hand drifts without command to her face, her throat, and then over her body. Her nipples harden under my fingertips, and her kisses become more urgent; releasing herself to me, and I can hear her heartbeat in her breaths. I have so much I want to do to her, so much I want to put her through, but I want her to know that my obsession is kind and affectionate. So I lean down and kiss her hand before moving her to the edge of the bed and positioning her in front of me. I bend to press my lips against her feet, still clad as they are in slutty high heels. The warmth of my tongue touches her toes, and I kiss up her ankles and then legs while my palms glide along her flesh. Her breathing betrays how excited she already is, and I know now that she feels treasured. That she belongs to me.
I slowly open her thighs and then reach under her, yanking her forward to me. She catches her breath at the change in pace, and I kiss her again. I cover her mouth and dip to kiss her chest, rocking her towards me and taking her weight on my hips.
I pull her feet and let her taste my fingers as she steadies herself. Her body is a work of art, so elegant and delicate, and the need to completely overwhelm it is so very strong. As I slowly turn her around, I feel her reaching for my thigh with her hand as I do. It’s such a small gesture of attraction and submission that I have to repress a smile.
I want to blindfold her—not just to tease her, though that’s a huge part of it—but also because I want to control her world. To direct her every sense. I want her to be utterly dependent on me, and I know it’s working when she forgets to breathe as it covers her eyes.
I turn her back around to face me and hold her throat just long enough and just tightly enough to feel her pulse in my palm. Then I release her, and my hand drifts down her body and between her legs. I gift her only enough friction to let her moan in some kind of painful relief before I drift back up her tummy and breasts while she braces herself against the bed behind her.
I want to create yearning, and I want to see evidence of desperate need, so I tease her mouth with my finger and then kiss her again.
I walk away from her, to get the tools of my trade. She moves her head, unable to see me and only able to react to sound. She doesn’t know what I have in store, and the anticipation casts a spell over us both. Gripping my belt, I double it over in my hands and make it snap with startling delight. She shudders for me and stands helpless while I secure one of her wrists on the bar over her head. I snap my belt to taunt her once again and then see to the other wrist as well.
I move her legs apart and secure her feet to the bars under the bed. Now she’s trapped. On display. Unable to participate in or resist anything I choose to do to her.
I kiss her cunt through her body suit and move up to her neck and kiss her lips again. The whimpering is becoming less self-conscious and more devoted. I remove the covers to her beasts, marvelling at how erect her gorgeous nipples are. She’s a desperate and confined mess for me.
I adjust the straps, holding her throat; I disrupt her breathing before retrieving the flogger.
She can’t see what’s in my hand, so I let the flogger tails dance across her flesh. I hold the handle in front of her face as she leans forward, trying to engage. I pull it back and hit her nipple—she gasps in pain and excitement. I hit her on the other one and then again. She arches her back and has nowhere to go, so I toss the flogger on the bed and use my fingers to squeeze both of them before covering them with my large hands. We kiss again, and she smiles with longing until I pick up the flogger to torment her nipples again.
Now that she knows what I am doing, I pick up speed and whip across her thighs and up her body. Her whimpers are now cries, and just when I think she might collapse or protest, I seize her throat and kiss her again—resetting her tolerance and provoking her devotion.
I push a finger against her cunt and slide into the gap of her body suit to give her precious pressure. My movements are slow and deliberate, and I can feel how fucking wet she is—she drenches my knuckles with her juices, and they leak down my fingers, and I have to stop myself from putting them in my mouth to taste her. I suddenly increase the speed, and she isn’t ready for the change of pace. Pinned as she is by her restraints, she can only moan and gasp and wait to see if I will let her come—but I stop as quickly as I started and lick my fingers and push them into her mouth and then kiss her again.
I move my hand back between her legs and rub her with speed again, but this time, I drop down into a squat. Now, I completely penetrate her, pushing two of my large fingers inside and watching her as she stretches to take me. She’s still blindfolded, but that doesn’t stop her looking up at the heavens or looking down at me, and just when it seems like she might come, I stop again, slap her cunt and let her taste herself on my hand.
While she squirms and wonders what will happen next, I strike her breasts, her juice still fresh on my fingers, and use the flogger to tease her again—her nipples, her thighs, her stomach—all while holding her throat. Just as I think she might collapse or protest, I kiss her. I am in complete control.
I untie her legs, and she trembles, waiting to see what I will do to her next. When I release her first hand from the restraints, I give it a kiss of reassurance and release the second. She’s no longer tied, but she knows not to move until I say so. Her hand touches my chest as we kiss, and then I turn her around and push her down onto the bed.
I slap her ass and tie her hands behind her back. Her breathing is shallow, but she waits patiently as I secure her ankles to the bars once more and run the leather of the belt gently across her ass cheeks to signal what will come next. With each strike she gasps and moans and takes it like a good girl. I drop to my knees and let my hands smoothly move over the skin of her thighs and her ass and admire the goosebumps as they race to the surface of her skin to show that I now own her.
Then I push my face into her cunt and lap at it with greed and entitlement. I can’t believe how wet she is, and I want to show her, so I lean forward and gently kiss her bound fingers—drenching them with her need.
Her rest is over, and now I pick the flogger up again, deliberately feathering her arse over and over. I am aware that my own breathing is getting louder and she can surely hear it too. My self-control is being tested now—this beautiful moaning mess in front of me. I fuck her with my fingers and a growl escapes my lips as I bite down on the flogger I hold in my mouth.
I’ve waited long enough. I pull my cock out, throw the flogger aside, and spit on my hand. I lube up my dick and tease the lips of her cunt, before pushing myself inside her. For a moment, we’re both silent—she feels so incredible around me, so warm and wet. At first, she squeezes me tightly, and my dick throbs with demand before exhaling and opening up, inviting, urging me inside. I growl again and, still fully clothed, I climb deeper inside her.
I increase speed, and she pants while I grip her wrists and spank her ass. Pulling out, I spit down onto her and watch it drool between her ass crack and onto my dick as I fuck her again. I feel powerful now, and I know I am giving her what she wants. I think of all the times she was belittled or dismissed and I think of all the ways she wished she had been touched but never was. I think of her having to go back to that life and go back to that bed and how I can give her precious memories of the time she was used and fucked in exactly the way she wants to be.
I think of the bruises she will have to hide on her body. Precious mementoes of the day she was stolen.
I’m gripping the bar on top of the bed, and I have no memory of when I grabbed it, and it’s only when she cries out and comes on my dick that I regain my control over my own body.
I release her wrists and stand her up. She rests her hand on my head as I unshackle her feet. I gently remove the blindfold and she looks at me with docile gratitude mixed with renewed greed. I lie her down and let her catch her breath while I handcuff her to the end of the bed. Her incredible body lies defenceless and I caress it before moving my head between her legs.
I kiss her cunt gently—deferential for the fast fucking I just gave it. As my tongue rolls over her clit I imagine all the bruises that will come up on her thighs and wonder how on earth she’s going to hide them from him. The thought infects me, and so I sidle up next to her, and with arrogant agency, I push my dick into her cunt. I hold her throat and fuck her hard, and every moan risks me exploding inside her. It builds, and it builds, and when she comes on my dick, it takes all my self-restraint not to completely flood her with dominant cum. I know she’s never screamed like this for anyone else.
I pull out of her and grab the ties I need to twist her into my next meal. The submissive little moans and gasps she releases make my dick twitch and I have to focus hard on being measured and disciplined.
I hike her legs up, and her ass is exposed and inviting, so I slap it, and she’s sensitive now that all she can do is whimper. I kneel next to her and hit her with the flogger, mixing the impact between her cheeks and her cunt. Just when I think the pain and anticipation is too much, I plunge my fingers into her and finger fuck her again, making a mess of all her wetness, with her cunt gripping my hand and making her come again around my knuckles. I barely let the orgasm settle before devouring her cunt with my mouth to get her ready for my dick. She moans, and I know the next fire has already started, so I push my dick into her and hold her throat while I fuck her. My hips thrust, and I can feel myself losing control of the rhythm as my body betrays my addiction to her. She’s so warm and so needy and so submissive, and I can’t believe I would ever do anything other than fuck this incredible woman. She comes before I do, and I just manage to stop myself going over the edge and pull out.
I release her feet from their restraints and move her to the side so that her ass is facing me. I put my dick back where it belongs, where it never feels it should leave, and I spank her to record more bruises as proof of my theft. My balls crash against her, and every time I slap her ass, I can feel the vibrations run down the shaft of my cock. She almost growls now as the latest orgasm rips through her.
She looks back at me, and I can see in her eyes she needs her turn. After all this time being controlled and used and fucked—she needs to feel like she can give something back. Wordlessly, she asks for permission, and as I untie her and gently kiss her, I grant it.
I lie on my back, and she climbs over me—liberated now, delighting in her agency and so very eager to please. She takes my cock in her hand and licks along the shaft, moving her hand up and down, and even though this is the first time she’s ever kissed it and the first time she’s ever sucked it, we both know that this is her cock now. I lie on my back, entranced and exhausted, watching my new submissive slave tease and please my cock to the point of eruption. And at this moment, all my power and control are gone. It’s all hers now, and she wears it so well. She works her delicate hands and teases me with her gentle fixation, and I am no longer able to control when I come. That decision is hers, and as my eyes close and roll back into my head, my dick shudders and pumps out warm cum that she immediately catches in her eager mouth. I open my eyes again and watch her performatively lick her lips and swallow.
She smiles a smile with a thousand meanings. Perhaps she’s smiling with pride. With satisfaction.
Perhaps with gratitude.
My legs no longer work so I reach forward and let her suck on the end of my thumb. She’s been kissed, stretched, teased, and filled. I can’t control what happens with her boyfriend. I can’t make her leave. I can’t convince her that she should value herself more. Should escape.
But I can give her this. I can control her body and her mind and let her control mine. I can give her danger in this safe place even if it’s only for a night.
In the Red Room.
The End