Hey, all my fellow ARTISTS!


MINI SHORT STORY FRIDAYS happen every other Friday where I write to you, a short story. Each holds meaning and I want to share my craft. Today's mini short story I wrote a page called DEVOTED.

I hope you enjoy it.

Leave a comment and tell me what you think.


Chapter 1.

I arrived home late, thinking she’d be upset with me, but it was quite the opposite. I took off my shoes and set them aside by the door. I stopped in my tracks as I assembled to take off my coat and noticed the lights were off, and I smelled an aroma I soon grew accustomed too. I flicked on the light switch several times and noticed the power was disabled. She was planning something, but what? I had been away on business for over a month, and I missed her scent, her touch, her voice soothed my nightmares, and I was in awe to see her on her knees tied up and bond. She was dressed in blue lanced lingerie with the panties to match; her hair pinned up in a high ponytail that she swooped to one side. She wore a smoky eye and dark burgundy lip gloss to match the ambiance surrounding her.

Remi always behaved when I spat out a command. She hated the idea of being my slave: when I first laid eyes on her at the bar, but I couldn’t help myself. I have a thing for blondes. Remi, or poppet as I call her hated when someone was in control. She loved control, loved the power, the dominance that came with it. When she met me, I was the one who broke her down, stripped her of that dominance. She put up this wall, barrier if you must, and swore she wouldn’t open up to another person the way she loved him: Kingsley Lane V.

They had been devoted to one another for seven years. She loved him until he broke her heart and left her one summer, unconscious and barely breathing. The stories in the TAP was: Remi and Kingsley Lane V were found tied up and almost left for dead by the HIGH RISE22’s. When in truth, she was found unconscious because she was kidnapped by a crazy ex, and he told Kinsley to come with $100,000 or she dies, and hours later, she was laid up in a hospital bed with an IV tube. Remi’s been guarded ever since until she met me. It took a while to get her to trust me, and that was a journey in itself. She had nightmares of her ex coming for her, but I soon found out that her being in control was what kept her grounded and made her feel safe. She always didn’t feel safe around me either, but this thing we have now between us, its hard to explain. It’s far from normal for sure.


I walked up closer to her, looking down as she stood there waiting for me to give a command. I grazed my palm on her cheek as I could feel goosebumps arise. She was nervous. I heard her heart beating, racing to the beats of her rapid breaths. I knew how much she loved being control, and she knew how much looking like this would do to me. I was hard within seconds; as soon as I walked in the bedroom where she stood there on her knees bound and tied. It got me excited. What was her gameplan? What was she up to? I was frustrated with myself, but she wouldn’t speak. She stared at with hooded eyelids and a side smirk as if she had won. We’d been doing this dance: fighting for dominance for over six months, and most of the time, I’d be on top, but here, seeing her like this made it impossible to gain control. Especially by the looks, she’d give me. Through gritted teeth, I grunted her name as I undid my tie and tossed it on the bed, unbuckling my pants as she rolled her head back as soon as her eyes were glued to the erection in my pants.

Our eyes locked. I knew she was ready for me, and I hadn’t touched her yet. She was aching for my touch and me, hers. I walked over to her closer than before as I ran my fingers through her mane, down to her cleavage that was exposed. Her tits were soft, and nipples ached to be sucked on. I said her name once more, but that’s when she shut me out, and with a low deep mummer, she mouthed the words:


Her voice barely audible, she lifted up her head slowly, staring into my soul as if she knew me as if she was devoted to me, and she was.

Say my name, Griffin

I cringed at the sound of my name because I hated it. Only a select few called me by my government name: My parents, my boys I hang with socially, and those that I capture, right before I killed them. Most of the time, people know me as Spencer, which is my last name. Poppet’s been calling me by my last name ever since we met. I never gave her the okay to call me anything else. She heard the name Griffin when Josh came by one night with the boys for drinks, and I let it slide because of the hold she has on me.

But, hearing her say my name just now, the way she said it sent me into a frenzy. I kept quiet for a moment as I gazed into her blue specks. She had this look on her face. A face of worry, like if I didn’t touch her soon, she’d burst into tears. I was still standing over her with my palm pressed to her chest, as she sucked in a breath and waited for my next move.


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