THE RULES HE SET FOR ME

#RULE 11: I WILL ALWAYS BEG FOR MORE TO PLEASE YOUR MASTER FORGETTING WHETHER HE WANTS OR NOT.

I’m lying on my back, naked, my arms spread wide above my head. A thick leather strap binds my wrists to heavy-duty eye hooks in the ceiling. My legs are spread wide too, held apart by another strap looped around my ankles and secured to the ceiling on the opposite side of the room. The room is dimly lit, the air thick with anticipation and the scent of freshly polished leather and hot wax. I can feel the rough, cool concrete beneath me, and the tiny beads of sweat that have begun to trickle down my spine.

He steps into my line of sight, his tall, broad frame silhouetted against the soft glow of the fireplace behind him. He’s wearing a black leather harness, the straps of which disappear between his powerful thighs and over his hips. His cock is already hard, straining against the leather, and a wicked smile plays at the corners of his lips.

I watch as he approaches, his booted feet making