Karan stood outside Preeta’s lavish home, his heart racing with anticipation and a twisted sense of exhilaration. After everything that had happened—the humiliation, the fear, and the agony—he was here, willingly, at her doorstep. Despite the catastrophic fallout with his father, the memory of his family’s downfall still fresh, there was a sick sense of relief and excitement bubbling up inside him. Today, he was going to express it all to Preeta—the devotion, the surrender. It was time to let her know what she meant to him.
As the heavy front door swung open and he stepped inside, Preeta was waiting for him in her grand living room, seated comfortably on an elegant, oversized recliner draped in velvet. The room’s opulence seemed to reflect her power: rich tapestries, ornate furniture, and a crystal chandelier above that bathed everything in a golden glow. Preeta herself looked every inch the queen of this domain—her posture relaxed, an air of complete authority radiating from her. Her lips curved into a smirk as she watched him approach, her eyes glinting with something dark and mocking.
Karan swallowed hard, the overwhelming urge to kneel already gripping him. He moved closer and, without waiting for her permission, dropped to his knees in front of her, his gaze locked on her elegant feet clad in sleek stilettos. His throat was tight, but he pushed through the emotion, raising his eyes to meet hers.
“Preeta Mam… Goddess… I—I can’t express how grateful I am,” he stammered, his voice trembling but filled with raw emotion. “I’ve never been happier. This is everything I’ve ever dreamed of—serving you, at your home permanently, submitting to you, giving up everything for you.”
Preeta raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening slightly as she crossed her legs, the heel of her stiletto brushing lightly against his knee. “Oh, really, Karan?” she drawled, her tone dripping with mockery. “You’re telling me that watching your father grovel at my feet was your idea of a ‘dream come true’?”
Karan’s face flushed, but he nodded eagerly, his eyes wide with devotion. “Yes, Mam, it was! I—I don’t care about what happened. I don’t feel any guilt or regret,” he breathed out desperately, his words spilling over each other in his eagerness to please her. “You deserve everything—everything I am, everything I have. I knew it the moment I first saw you. You’re my goddess. I’m meant to serve you, obey you, worship you. Seeing my father in that position… it just made everything clear. You’re the one who should have all the power. You own us.”
Preeta let out a soft, disdainful laugh. “Oh, Karan, you really are pathetic, aren’t you?” she murmured, shaking her head slightly. She leaned back in her chair, her eyes gleaming with amusement as she looked down at him—this broken, groveling man who had surrendered everything for her. “So, you’re saying you’re happy that I made your father kneel? That I humiliated him in front of you? That I tore apart whatever little respect he had left?”
“Yes, yes!” Karan exclaimed, his voice rising with frantic enthusiasm. “He needed to see that. I needed to see that. I needed to see how much stronger and superior you are, Mam. I—I don’t care what happens to me, or to him, or to anyone. I just want to make you happy. I want to be at your feet, doing whatever you say. Please… please let me serve you.”
Preeta’s smile turned cold, and she tilted her head, studying him with a mixture of contempt and fascination. “So, this is what you’ve always wanted, Karan? To throw away your pride, your dignity, your family’s honor… just to lick my shoes?” She leaned forward slightly, her gaze piercing as she spoke, her voice low and taunting. “You’re not even a man anymore, are you?”
“No, I’m not!” Karan whispered fervently, shaking his head. “I’m not a man. I’m just your slave. A dog at your feet. I exist only to please you, to obey you, to suffer for you. That’s all I want, Preeta Mam—please, believe me.”
