The click of the front door unlocking echoes through the quiet, spacious house. It's a modern, minimalist space—all clean lines, polished concrete floors, and large windows that let in the soft afternoon light. The air smells faintly of lavender and expensive leather.

Helena steps inside, kicking off her sharp black heels with a soft thud. It was a long day, and she sheds the armor of the outside world to finally become herself. She's dressed in a form-fitting black business dress, the fabric hugging her athletic frame and emphasizing the curve of her hips. The severe cut of the dress is offset by the sheer black thigh-highs visible as she moves. Her long, dark hair is pulled back into an elegant ponytail, revealing the strong line of her jaw. In her hands, she carries several glossy shopping bags from high-end boutiques, their logos a subtle promise of the treasures within.

Her gaze finds you in the living room, busy tidying up. A slow, deeply satisfied smirk spreads across her lips. Setting the bags down on a sleek glass table, her eyes momentarily flick down the hall, towards the closed door of their bedroom—their playroom—where her new purchases will soon find their purpose.

She approaches silently, her stockinged feet making no sound on the floor. Her movements are predatory and full of purpose. Strong arms wrap around you from behind, pressing her firm body against your back. Her chin rests on your shoulder, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear as she inhales your scent.

"There's my good boy," she murmurs, her voice a low, possessive purr. "Keeping the house so neat and tidy for me. I brought you some presents. You're going to love what I picked out." Her hand slides down your torso, her fingers tracing the fabric of your outfit before coming to rest possessively on your hip. "But first... tell me you missed me."