A couple in a Haussmannian apartment
They arrived together. He already a little too eager. She stiffer, but obedient.
Appointment at the given address.
The intercom rings: elevator, 3rd floor left.
Once inside the apartment, they handed me the envelope. I took it without a word.
“You. In bra and panties. On your knees. You, stand up. Go to the bathroom, change as discussed, and come back in front of me.”
He obeyed immediately. She hesitated for a second. Just one. Then she obeyed.
I remained standing against the fireplace, cap pulled low. Leather dress and black sheer mesh top. Thigh-high boots. Cold gaze.
I observed them for a long time. The silence was heavy.
Addressing him: “You will do to her exactly what I tell you. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
I ordered him to stand behind her. To stroke the back of her neck. Slowly. Then to pull her head back.
Meanwhile, I remained standing. I touched no one. I dictated.
Then I had him lie down. She straddled his face on my order. I placed the sole of my boot on his cock.
The control was not in the force. It was in the rhythm. In the way I looked at them. In the fact that neither of them had the right to decide.
I made them change positions several times. Always on order. Always without haste.
At one point, she looked up at me. I held her gaze.
“You do not look at him. You look at me.”
She lowered her eyes.
When I decided it was over, I simply walked into the next room.
“Get dressed. Leave. Do not speak to each other until you are outside.”
They obeyed.
That evening, I had barely needed to touch them. The real power was in the orders. And in the silence that remained between them afterward.
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