My new roommate is a crazy dominatrix

Elea Samsa walks into the apartment she just rented, still in her trench coat, expecting a quiet chat with her new roommate. Tenjou starts laying out house rules—cleaning schedule, chores, the usual. Elea smiles, cuts her off, and says she won’t be cleaning anything. From now on, Tenjou will handle both their messes. Tenjou laughs. Elea lets the coat fall. Underneath, she’s strapped into a tight leather harness, her high heel boots gleaming like polished threats. The mood shifts. Elea steps close, cups the back of Tenjou’s neck, and tells her to kneel. Tenjou does. The laughter dies fast. Elea grabs a roll of tape. She pins Tenjou’s wrists behind her, wraps and pulls until the wrists fuse tight, then tapes her arms flat to her chest in one solid band. The tape creaks each time Tenjou breathes. A fat ball gag is next—Elea forces it between her teeth and buckles it hard, muffling every sound into thick, wet silence. Tenjou is already drooling when Elea orders her under the table. She crawls. More tape snakes around her thighs, her ankles, locking her legs together. Finally Elea lashes her whole body to the wooden leg of the table, cinching it so tight the wood creaks against Tenjou’s ribs. She can’t move an inch. Elea settles in the chair above her, crosses one boot over the other, and starts tapping the toe against Tenjou’s taped chest—slow, deliberate, almost lazy. Then the boots come off. Bare feet slide forward, pressing against Tenjou’s flushed cheeks, sliding between parted lips, soles flexing against tongue and teeth in wet, humiliating worship. Tenjou licks. Elea watches, smiling like she’s already forgotten the girl has a name. Her new roommate is now just another piece of furniture—bound, gagged, owned.