CHAPTER 12. The Scent of Surrender (Patreon)

When the fabric finally slipped away, Theo took a step back, not out of modesty, but to look. Really look. His eyes roamed over the tiny steel cage, the way it framed my p*ssy, my surrender. My two h*les exposed. I didn’t dare breathe. He crouched slowly, his gaze locked on the locked metal. “Perfect,” he said, almost to himself. “So small. So… mine.”
Then, without hesitation, he lifted the panties to his face. Pressed them there. Inhaled deep, like it was the first breath he’d taken all day. I watched him through a fog of humiliation and arousal, my knees nearly giving out. He smiled against the fabric. He owns me, I thought. He already knows it.