Sanctuary- Me Vs. Her

She looked at me those dark, dark eyes, I wished that I could shift time forward- to this evening, this evening when all would be unravelled. I looked deep into those hazel eyes before plunging my view to her open top. She’d wanted me for so long, and wanted to hand over the reins. I wanted to take the reins, to grasp them and make her feel like there was no control, no struggle- to knock submission into every part of her being.
I had planned it perfectly, we would meet at sundown at her home, and everything would be there, as I had asked- an arrangement of devices; collars, clamps, bars, chains and the likes. She had said to me with wide eyes, “Do we really need all this?” I nodded slowly, relishing the plan.
And so she greeted me at the door, somewhat hastily, but courteously before showing me to the rich leather sofa. I explained to her, “There will be a safe word, so there’s no need to worry,” blood drained from her face as the whole scene became a reality. “That word is sanctuary.” I said little more as I asked her to fetch a glass of water for each of us. She hurried off, and I watched that fine ass disappear. She was wearing tighter-than-usual black trousers and a simple white top, at the neckline, a little of her exquisite lacy brassier was showing, it was black and very intricate.
When she returned, she found me holding one of the collars that I had instructed her to buy. She bowed her head to the floor, placed the glasses on the coffee table and averted her gaze. With one swift command she began to take off her top, her hands trembling slightly. Her full and luscious breasts were exposed; I could see a nipple through the thin lace and felt a stirring in my loins. She took her trousers off slowly, wriggling out of the tight fabric to reveal a similarly styled pair of black lace panties. I liked her like this, so pathetic, so ashamed- so when she began to unclip the bra I gave her signal not to. Panic fluttered in her eyes, believing she’d done something wrong. I pointed to the carpet and she lowered herself onto all-fours, and keeping her eyes transfixed on the ground, I proceeded to tighten the collar around her delicate neck.
We both knew that whilst she was wearing this collar, she was mine, under my control, and I wanted her to trust me. “You trust me, don’t you?” I asked kindly. She nodded and smiled, “Yes master,” she replied. I frowned, looking down upon this wreck of a girl. By day, a flirtatious drama queen, by bed- a dirty slave, to be domineered. I looked closer at the collar Nadine had bought; it was soft black leather with chrome-silver spiked notches she smiled, noticing my appreciation- so I quickly snapped out of it.
“Crawl upstairs to your bed,” I commanded. She did as she was told; trailing a few paces behind me I could hear the soft padding of her hands on the wooden hallway floor as we crossed the house.