svetry

The wind swept through the dry landscape, and her long blonde hair danced around her face like golden whips. She stood there, tall and uncompromising, in a black knitted sweater that stretched tightly over her full breasts, and in leather pants that hugged her hips like a second skin. Her gold hoop earrings glinted in the grey light of the sky.

"On your knees," she said quietly, but in a tone that sounded like an order that could not be refused.

Your legs bent on their own. Dust dirtied your pants, but that no longer mattered. Her gaze pinned you to the ground. She stepped closer, slowly, her hips swaying slightly. The tip of her black boot stopped right in front of your face.

"Look at me."

You lifted your head. Her eyes were cold, confident, with a hint of amusement in the corners of her lips. With one hand, she ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it back and revealing her long neck and the striking neckline of her sweater.

"I've been watching you all day, creeping after me like a lost dog. Now you're mine."

She bent down, grabbed your chin with firm fingers, and pulled you closer. Her breath smelled of winter and power. With her other hand, she stroked your cheek, then suddenly yanked your hair so hard you hissed.

"Say it," she whispered directly against your lips.

"I am yours… Mistress."

She smiled. It wasn’t a kind smile. It was the smile of a huntress who had just caught her prey.

She released you, straightened up, and placed her hands on her hips. The leather belt gleamed at her waist.

"Take off your shirt. Hands behind your back. And don’t you dare look at me until I allow it."

You obeyed instantly. The cold wind licked your bare skin. You heard only her slow footsteps circling you — like a predator examining her catch. Then you felt her warmth behind you. Her fingers slid into your hair, yanked your head back, and pressed your face against the warm, soft sweater between her breasts.

"Breathe me in," she whispered. "This is your world now. Only me. My voice. My scent. My will."

You felt her thighs press against your shoulders. She was strong, dominant, and completely calm. She knew exactly what she was doing to you.

"And now," she whispered, her nails lightly grazing the back of your neck, "you’re going to start begging to serve me. And trust me… I’m going to enjoy every second of it."

The wind grew stronger, but you no longer felt the cold. Only the heat of her power, burning you from the inside.