The soft snap of latex breaking free from a tight fit echoed through the dimly lit room. Mistress Lisa stood by the sleek black counter, her gloved fingers flexing, testing the stretch, feeling the way the thin material clung to her skin like a second layer of command.
She had always adored the sensation—cool at first, then warming to her touch, molding to every precise movement of her fingers. It was power, control, and anticipation wrapped in glossy perfection. And tonight, Daniel was hers to mold.
He knelt before her, his head slightly bowed, though his eyes flickered up to drink her in. The gleam of her gloves under the soft glow, the way they whispered against each other as she moved—it was intoxicating.
“Hands behind your back,” she instructed, her voice smooth, unwavering.
He obeyed instantly.
She stepped forward, letting a single gloved finger hover just above his bare shoulder. The heat of his skin radiated through the latex, teasing them both with the thin barrier. And then—just the faintest touch. A slow, deliberate trail from his collarbone to his throat, pausing just where she could feel his pulse hammering beneath her touch.
“You like that?” she murmured, tilting his chin up with two latex-clad fingers.
“Yes, Mistress,” he breathed, his voice thick with need.
A slow smirk curled on her lips. Good boy.
She circled him, letting her gloved hand trace along his jaw, then down his chest, each movement deliberate. The latex slid effortlessly over his skin, a contrast of smooth synthetic against burning flesh.
With a sudden, precise motion, she gripped his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze. “You will take what I give you,” she purred, her grip firm yet teasing. “And you will thank me for it.”
Daniel swallowed hard, his breath uneven. “Thank you, Mistress.”
A satisfied chuckle escaped her as she ran her fingers down his throat, reveling in the way his body responded to her touch. Oh, she was just getting started.
Tonight, he would learn exactly what it meant to be at Mistress Lisa’s mercy.
