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SOFIA

M y hands are sticky from cotton candy and caramel apples as I wipe the sweat from my brow. The late evening crowd has thinned to a trickle, leaving me a moment to catch my breath. Who knew standing for hours could make your feet hurt this much?

“You’re doing great,” Aurora says, flashing me an encouraging smile as she restocks the napkin dispenser. “Most people don’t last half the time you have their first time.”

I laugh, flexing my fingers. “I never thought I’d say this, but I like it. It’s... real, you know?”

The carnival lights paint everything in soft blues and pinks, creating a magical atmosphere that feels worlds away from my father’s sterile mansion. A cool breeze carries the mingled scents of popcorn and funnel cake.

“Trust me, I get it.” Aurora hands me a water bottle. “The first time I worked here, I was terrified I’d mess everything up. But there’s something special about being part of a family like this.”

I take a grateful sip, nodding. “My whole life, everything has been handed to me. Designer clothes, fancy cars... but this?” I gesture at my simple carnival uniform, with a small grease stain. “This feels more honest.”

“That’s the carnival life for you.” Aurora wipes down the counter. “Everyone pulls their weight, from the owner to the newest addition. Even Ty works the stands sometimes when necessary.”

The mention of Ty makes me smile. He was so supportive when I insisted on working, even though I could tell he wanted to give me a pass from earning my way.

“Speaking of weight,” I say, lifting a heavy box of supplies, “I think my arms are getting stronger already.”

Aurora chuckles. “Just wait until you’ve been here a month. You’ll be carrying boxes like a pro.”

I survey our nearly empty stand with pride. Despite my aching feet and tired muscles, I feel more accomplished than I ever did attending my father’s fancy galas.

I’m wiping down the last section of the counter when I spot Ty approaching. My heart skips as his powerful frame cuts through the carnival’s dancing lights. Even after all this time, seeing him still makes my skin tingle.

“Time to wrap it up,” he demands, with that powerful tone that weakens my knees. “We’re closing down for the night.”

I nod, trying to focus on helping Aurora count the register rather than the heat of Ty’s gaze. His presence fills the small stand, making it hard to concentrate on simple tasks.

“Just need to finish the count and take out the trash,” Aurora says, but I barely hear her. Ty’s leaning against the counter, his eyes following my every movement as I gather empty boxes.

I bend to pick up a fallen napkin, and I swear I hear his breath catch. When I straighten, his eyes are darker and hungrier. He’s not even trying to hide how he’s watching me, like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

“The register’s done,” Aurora announces, breaking through the tension. I grab the trash bag, but Ty’s voice stops me.

“Leave that. Aurora can handle it.” His tone brooks no argument. “You’ve done enough for your first night.”

I hesitate, not wanting to burden Aurora, but she waves me off with a knowing smile. “Go on. You’ve earned your rest.”

Ty’s patience is clearly wearing thin as I finish. His intensity makes my hands shake as I untie my apron. I can feel the promise in his gaze, and I’m about to find out exactly what it means.

I follow him through the darkened carnival grounds, our footsteps crunching on scattered popcorn and paper wrappers. The main tent looms ahead, its canvas walls rippling in the night breeze.

“Where are we going?” I ask, but Ty just squeezes my hand and leads me inside.

The tent feels different without the crowds and performers—empty but somehow more intimate. Our footsteps echo across the sawdust floor, and moonlight filters through gaps in the canvas.

Ty releases my hand and moves to a trunk near the center ring. He pulls something out—a black leather half-face mask for the upper half of his face. My breath catches as he slides it on. The mask accentuates his sharp jawline, making him look dangerous and incredibly sexy.

“What’s that for?” I ask, mesmerized by how the mask transforms him into something almost mythical.

“It’s part of the game.” He steps toward me, his eyes burning through the mask. “Tonight, I’m your masked master. And you, baby girl, are my submissive slut.”

A thrill runs through me at his words. “Oh?” I try to keep my tone light, but my voice comes out breathless. “Why would I be your slut?”

He smirks. “Because I’ll own you. I’ll control your pleasure, and by the time I’m done, you’ll be begging me for more.”

The authority in his voice sends a shiver down my spine. His words ignite the deepest desires I’ve kept hidden for so long. It’s as if he’s speaking directly to the secret cravings that have driven me to the carnival, to him.

I wet my lips, trembling with anticipation. “And what if I don’t want to be owned?”

“I know you do.” He closes the distance between us, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. “Your body betrays you, my little slut. Your pulse and your breathing quicken just from the thought.”

His hand cups my throat, his thumb gently stroking along the sensitive skin. I gasp as a thousand sensations race through me—excitement, fear, longing.

“It’s all right.” His thumb continues to stroke. “You’ll learn to crave my commands. You’ll feel more alive than you ever have before.”

“And if I don’t?” I whisper, my voice almost lost in the heavy silence of the tent.

His grip tightens, and his eyes flash dangerously. “Then I’ll enjoy teaching you to submit.”

My heart is pounding. His mask-covered face adds to the fun. The urge to lean into him, to surrender, wars with my instinct to run.

“You’re trembling.” He leans closer. “Are you afraid, baby girl?”

I nod, unable to speak, my confession trapped in my throat.

“Good.” He smirks. “That fear will make the pleasure much sweeter. It will make you appreciate every touch and sensation.”

Ty caresses my lower lip with his thumb, his eyes never leaving mine. “Do you want your first lesson in submission?”

My pulse thunders in my ears. I’m afraid, but not of Ty. I’m afraid of the power he holds over me and the parts of myself I can no longer ignore.

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Get on your knees. Show me how much you want this.”

I sink to my knees, watching him appraise me with his piercing gaze. Apprehension drives me wild as I wait for his command and the rush that will come when he finally touches me.

He moves back toward the trunk and grabs it, carrying it back to me so I can see the contents.

His fingers trail along the variety of toys laid out before him—whips, paddles, vibrators, and clamps—before finally selecting a small, slender dildo. Seeing it makes me bite my lip, and a mix of excitement and apprehension floods me.

“Have you ever had anything in your ass?” He asks.

I shake my head, unable to meet his eyes. “N-no.”

His eyes darken. “A virgin ass. That makes this even better.”

He steps closer, his presence overwhelming. His scent of leather and musk surrounds me, clouding my thoughts. “Kneel on the hay bales, baby girl. Show me that beautiful ass.”

I obey, climbing onto the soft hay bales and kneeling, my chest pressed against the rough strands. His fingers dance along my spine, sending tingles through me. “This might sting a little, but I’ll make it feel so good.”

I whimper as he coats my untouched hole in lube and then presses the cool tip of the dildo against my ass. Slowly, he eases it inside, adding more lube when necessary. I gasp at the burn that spreads through me.

“It’s okay.” His voice is like a caress. “Take it for me. Feel that stretch.”

I grip the hay, my knuckles white as I adjust to the sensation. I can sense him watching me, his eyes devouring my every reaction. My cheeks are hot, but a dark thrill courses through me.

“Good girl.” His hands slide around my hips. “Fuck, that’s beautiful.” His voice is strained. “Now, I want you to relax while I move it in and out.”

I obey, moaning as I try to relax. He slowly moves the dildo in and out, and I can feel the heat pooling between my legs.

“That’s it. Soon, you’ll take my cock here. Imagine it—my thick cock stretching you open, pounding into you while I pull your hair.”

His words send a lightning bolt to my core. The image floods my mind—being taken by him in the ass.

“Now, baby girl. Come for me like a good slut.”

My breath hitches as his words strike a chord deep within me. The build-up, the forbidden nature of my desire, the rough hay against my chest... it’s all too much. I cry out, my body shaking as pleasure floods me. I’m overwhelmed, consumed by the intensity of my release.

“Good girl.” Ty’s thumb brushes my lower back. “I knew you’d be a natural submissive.”

I whimper, still lost in the aftershocks of my orgasm. My body feels like it’s made of jelly, boneless against the hay. But his praise sends a thrill of satisfaction through me.

“But we’re not done yet.” His voice drops an octave. “Not even close.”

I gasp for breath, my body still trembling from the intensity of my orgasm. The hay pricks against my skin, but I barely notice it through the haze of pleasure coursing through my veins. God, how does he do this to me? Turn me into this wanton creature who begs and moans at his command?

I’ve never felt so exposed, so vulnerable... so free. I’ve been trapped in a gilded cage of expectations - be the perfect daughter, fiancée, mob princess. But here, on my knees before him, I’m just his baby girl. His slut. And somehow, that feels more real, more honest than any role I’ve ever played.

My breath finally steadies, but the aftershocks still ripple through me. I can feel his eyes on me, assessing and appreciating. And despite my exhaustion, despite the ache spreading through my muscles, I want more—whatever he’s willing to give me.

Because in this tent, under his control, I’m finally living instead of just existing.