Your room

“Come here,” he said softly, but I knew it wasn't just a request. Trying to show the confidence that I don't have, I crossed the short distance between us and stood beside the bed.

As I stood there, trying not to bring my knees together, he looked at me from top to bottom, and that was enough to make my whole body uncomfortably warm. He reached out a hand and ran his fingers from my elbow to my wrist. He pressed his lips to the inside of my wrist.

“You slapped me,” he said. He looked up into my eyes and I swallowed.

“Yes, Master,” I whispered. Hopefully calling the correct name will satisfy you. He intertwines his fingers with mine and squeezes. I grimace.

“Before you, I never knew a woman who could get away with it.” My tears fell. I can't pretend to be brave anymore.

"Please don't hurt me," I stammered.

He calmly looked at me with a smile on his face. “Well, it doesn't take much effort, does it? I was also depressed. That's no fun for me." I let out a long breath without realizing I