Command: Don’t Look Me in the Eyes

He said it

-“Don’t look me in the eyes.”

She trembled, though his voice never rose above a whisper — almost tender. But there was no room for doubt in his tone. This was an order, not a request. And that’s exactly why her whole body ignited.

She stood before him — naked, vulnerable, focused on her breath. Her head was slightly bowed, her gaze fixed somewhere near his shoes. She felt both small… and powerful. Because even though she knelt, she was the chosen one. This scene had been prepared for her. It was her he would lead.

-"Your eyes lie," - he said, slowly circling her.

-"But your body… your body always tells the truth."

He ran a finger along her arm. Slowly, as if reading Braille. Her skin tensed like a bowstring.

-"When you look, you think. And I want you to feel — only feel."

He sat down in the chair across from her. Silent. Watching. She could feel his eyes on her like a touch, like pressure. But she couldn’t return the gaze. She knew that would be a mistake.

The game had just begun.

The silence was thick, sticky with tension. Each second stretched, as if the world had stopped breathing. Then came the sound of leather. The flogger. Light snaps, not yet touching her body — just a promise. A warning.

-"Spread your legs. Wider. Good. Stay like this."

She obeyed. The movement was obedient, but within it lingered rebellion — the subtle arch of her back, the tension in her neck. She knew he’d notice. And that was exactly what she wanted.

Then she felt him right by her ear.

-"You will look — someday. When I let you. And then… you’ll break."

Warm breath. Then pain — quick, intense, delicious. The flogger struck her thigh. Once. Then again, closer to her groin. Her lips parted, but the cry stuck somewhere in her throat. She knew that scream was also consent — and she agreed to everything.

-"Breathe," - he commanded.

-"Don’t move your head, and don’t look."

It was torture and reward. A fight against instinct. Against the longing that gathered behind her eyelids.

He knelt behind her, his hands sliding over her hips, then up along the sides of her breasts. Her entire body responded — in waves, heat, shivers.

-"Do you know why I won’t let you look?"

She shook her head, almost unconsciously.

-"Because then you forget — that it’s me who leads you. And you crave being lost."

His fingers found her exactly where she was ready. She parted her lips without a word, without a glance. She leaned forward, giving herself to him. And then, suddenly, right by her ear:

-"Now… you can look."

Her eyes lifted. Their gazes met for the first time that night. And then… she broke. Violently. Intensely. Just as he promised. She didn’t need a touch. Just a look was enough.

Because in that gaze was all the power.

And all her consent.

For the game truly begins the moment a glance stops being accidental

and becomes… a command.