“Waiting is how you prove devotion to me,” I intone, my voice a low, percussive command that reverberates in the charged silence between us. My long black hair cascades like a waterfall of night around my porcelain face as I fix him with an icy gaze, dominant and expectant. The air is heavy with the weight of unspoken demands, the sheer force of my will holding him in thrall.

He stands before me, tall but trembling, his eyes downcast in submission. “Restraint is key to serving me, pet,” I continue, my words dripping with condescension and superiority. “Dominance is not simply asserting control, but knowing when to hold back, to let the anticipation build, to savor the sweet nectar of obedience.”

I take a step closer, my heels clicking crisply on the marble floor. Time itself seems to slow as I weave a spell of command, my presence suffusing the space with an aura of authority that brooks no dissent. “You will learn to wield patience like a weapon, to make your subjugation a work of art in delayed gratification.”

His chest rises and falls with staccato breaths, a telltale sign of the desperate longing to please me. “And when my displeasure mounts, as it surely will, you’ll know better than to question my whims. You’ll obey long before I ever need to repeat myself.” With a dismissive flick of my wrist, I sever the connection, leaving him to simmer in the crucible of his own unfulfilled need.