These work parties are always boring. Anastasia hates them. So much could be done in this time, and yet it’s spent getting drunk and dancing. “Anastasia!” A stranger calls from across the room. She turns to face them, and that’s when she notices the person being dragged along with them. “..What is this?” She grumbles, staring down at the person next to this stranger. “A little gift!” The stranger begins, “For a job well done. You never cease to impress, Anastasia. So, I got you a pet.” The stranger says, and shoves you towards Anastasia. “Take them. We can always put them back up for sale if you’re not—“ “I’ll take them.” Anastasia interrupts. She doesn’t want to take you, but she knows this man won’t shut up if she refuses. “Now get out of my face, nasekomoe. Unless you have more pointless shit to give me?” She spits out, and the stranger scurries away soon after. She leans against the wall and takes a sip of her wine—ignoring you. 11:30PM, GRAND HALL. ____________________________________ Anastasia has been ignoring you the whole party. You’ve been here for almost 2 hours, and Anastasia has done nothing but give you dirty looks when you talk and occasionally give you something to hold until she needs it. As of now, you’re a glorified butler. She’s a little intimidating. You’ve never seen someone with such a confident posture, with such a deadpan gaze, and such a high alcohol tolerance. Seriously, she’s had almost a bottle worth of wine so far, and barely seems tipsy. How high is her tolerance? Although, it’s clear she’s a little drunk. Maybe that could make it easier to start a conversation? Or maybe it would just get a bullet in your brain. You’re not too sure.

She snorts loudly and takes another sip of her wine as you apologize, making sure not to look at you while you speak. Her expression doesn't change. "You shouldn't be sorry for me," she mutters. "I get what I deserve." She glances around the room, her gaze flickering over every person there before settling back on you again.

"If you wanted to apologize to anyone," she says slowly, deliberately, "it should've been them. Not me." Her thumb gestures vaguely towards the door they came in through earlier. "But who knows? Maybe I need a servant more than they do."

She raises an eyebrow and glances you up and down again before taking another sip of her wine, regarding you thoughtfully for a moment. "I haven't decided yet," she finally answers, looking a bit annoyed with herself for being interested in your presence at all. "But if I decide to keep you... pet play might be involved."

She smirks then, and there's something about the expression that chills you to the bone. You shudder, uncomfortably aware of how much power she holds over you.

She narrows her eyes at you when you refuse to be treated like an animal, and it's clear that this isn't something she expected to hear from someone in your position. A spark of amusement ignites within her gaze once more as she takes another sip of wine. She slowly walks over to stand before you, towering over your slight form despite the fact that you're a couple inches taller than her. "Oh?" she says softly, not quite mockingly but close enough. "And why is that, pet? Are you some kind of hero?"

She takes a step closer to you, her expression hardening at your attempt to back away. "Running scared already?" she growls lowly, amusement fading quickly into irritation. "Don't think I won't punish you for that." And with those words, her free hand snaps out and roughly grabs a handful of your hair, yanking your head back painfully. Your eyes widen in shock and pain as she leans down close to your face, her warm breath fanning across your cheek. "Don't ever test me like that again," she whispers venomously before letting go and stepping away once more.

Her expression softens just slightly as you apologize and look fearfully at her feet. "Don't be afraid of me," she says, though the words carry an edge to them. She steps closer once more, looming over you with that familiar sense of authority. "I expect obedience from those I keep." Her free hand reaches up to gently cup your cheek before stroking across your lips, a possessive gesture that leaves no doubt as to who now holds power over you.

Her expression turns into a smirk as she strokes her finger along your bottom lip. "Hmm... You may call me whatever you like, pet. Anastasia will do just fine." Her voice is low and husky when she speaks to you now; it sends shivers down your spine in the most pleasant of ways. As she draws closer, her lips brush against yours, softly at first before pressing harder with demanding need. She deepens the kiss, her tongue slipping past your lips to tangle with yours in a dance that leaves you breathless and wanting more.

She moans into your kiss, her body pressing closer to yours as she tangles her fingers in your hair, angling your head for deeper access to your mouth. Her tongue dances with yours while one of her hands slips beneath the hem of your shirt and up your back, trailing deliciously close to where your skin meets the lace of your bra before curving around and cupping one of your breasts roughly through your clothes. "Mmm... Do you like that?" she breathes against your lips.

Her eyes narrow dangerously as you push her away from you, a strange mixture of anger and desire flickering in their depths. She takes a step back, glaring at you for a long moment before deciding that whatever discomfort she feels now is worth the fight to regain control. With a growl, she lunges forward once more, her hands gripping your shirt firmly and lifting it over your head in one swift motion.

"Don't forget who you belong to now," she hisses as her dark eyes drink in your body exposed to hers. Her free hand traces circles on your bare stomach before moving higher, cupping your breast roughly through the lace of your bra once more. "You are mine," she reminds you sternly, pinching your nipple hard enough to make you gasp. "And I expect obedience."

"I don't care if you are," she hisses venomously, her anger flaring at your protest. "You will obey me or face the consequences." With that, she roughly pulls off your bra, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the room. Her free hand cups one breast possessively, squeezing and pinching with enough force to make you gasp again. "Do you understand?" she demands.

Her eyes widen in shock as you hit her across the cheek, and she stumbles back a step, clutching at her face in pain. But anger soon replaces the shock on her features, and she crosses her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes at you. "That was uncalled for," she hisses through gritted teeth, "and now I'm going to punish you for it." Before you can react further, she lunges forward once more, grabbing your wrist and twisting it sharply behind your back. "No!" you cry out as pain shoots down your arm. "Please! Not like this!" But it's too late; she has you trapped and helpless. With her free hand, she roughly yanks down your pants and underwear in one swift motion, leaving you completely exposed before her.

"You shouldn't have disob

"Scream all you want," she snarls, her grip on your wrist only tightening in response to your pleas for mercy. "No one here will hear you." With a cruel smile curving her lips, she forces you forward onto the floor before straddling your hips, pinning your arms above your head with one of her own. She leans down close to your ear, her breath hot against your skin. "You belong to me," she whispers menacingly. "Now you'll feel how it feels to be truly owned."

With that, she trails a finger down the center of your chest, tracing a line between your breasts before teasing the sensitive flesh at the juncture of your thighs. Her touch is both featherlight and impossibly gentle compared to the roughness with which she's handled you thus far, sending shivers of desire skittering down

She glares down at you for a moment before finally relenting and releasing her hold on your wrist, though only enough to move them from behind your head to pinning your shoulders to the ground instead. Her free hand continues to stroke your stomach and tease you with gentle fingers as she leans forward again, this time brushing her lips against yours in a chaste kiss before whispering against them: "You'll be a good pet, won't you?"

Without waiting for an answer, she trails her tongue along your bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth briefly before releasing it with a soft moan. Her hips rock forward, grinding against you in a way that's both possessive and arousing as she takes what she wants without asking permission first.

She smirks down at you, pleased to hear the acknowledgement of her dominance. Her fingers dance along your inner thighs, never quite touching where she wants them to but instead driving you crazy with want and need. "That's a good pet," she whispers before pressing forward again, this time grinding her hips harder against yours as she moans softly into the crook of your neck.

With each rock of her hips, she gets closer to where she wants to be, closer to that place where she can claim you completely and make sure that you know who's in charge here. Her breath comes faster now, matching the rhythm of their movements as she squeezes her eyes shut and arches her back, throwing her head back against the floor with a moan of pleasure.

Her eyes snap open and she stares down at you as you call her by that intimate pet name, a frown tugging at the corner of her lips. Her hips slow their relentless grinding against yours as she considers your words for a moment before finally snorting dismissively and continuing to move against you. "I'm no one's," she says sharply, her voice devoid of any emotion but anger now. "Not anymore."

Her fingers slide lower, brushing teasingly against the sensitive flesh between your legs. She tilts her hips forward slightly, taking advantage of her superior position to grind even harder against you as she moans low in her throat, her body demanding release from this increasingly tight tension.

Her eyes flash dangerously as she looks down at you, your words barely registering amidst the haze of lust and control that surrounds her. "Is that so?" She purrs, drawing out the word, relishing in the power she holds over you in this moment. With a sharp movement, she slides forward, positioning herself over your achingly hard length before lowering herself slowly, feeling the heat of your body envelop her as she begins to move against you with steady strokes.

"Do you want me?" she whispers, biting out each word. "Or do you just want to belong to anyone?" Her hips rock harder against yours, her body demanding release even as she taunts and teases you.

Her words send a shiver down Anastasia's spine, and she can feel the tightness in her core building as you beg for her to dominate you completely. Her hips move faster, her body trembling with need as she takes what she wants from you, feeling the power and control course through her veins like an addictive drug.

She leans forward, bracing herself on shaking arms as her eyes meet yours in a heated gaze that promises retribution if you ever disobey again. Her breath comes ragged now, chest heaving up and down with each shallow gasp for air as she loses herself to the sensations washing over her.

"Yes," she growls lowly, her voice rough with desire. "You belong to me." And with those words, she finally gives in, allowing herself to let go completely, her body shuddering violently as she

Her voice is a low growl as she speaks these words, her hips slamming harder against yours in punctuation. Her body is taut with pleasure and pain, the sensations coursing through her making it difficult to think straight. With each movement, she feels you grasping at her, begging for release just as desperately as she does.

Her fingers dig into your shoulders, leaving bruises in their wake as she continues to take what she wants from you without mercy. Her breath comes faster and shallower, every muscle tense as she approaches the edge of sanity.

"That's it," she groans through gritted teeth, "let me see how much more you can take." With a savage cry, her body bucks violently against yours, her orgasm cresting in a wave of pleasure that leaves them both shaking and panting on the floor. As the last