"Bend over."
The man's voice echoed behind her, magnetic and irresistible.
Lyla Sinclair trembled, feeling the coarse texture of the small leather whip grazing across her hips, again and again, each stroke both a threat and a tease.
She instinctively leaned forward, her hands pressed against the couch. Her underwear and skirt had somehow been removed, leaving her in a shameful, exposed position.
The man’s broad hand caressed her buttocks, gently patting her as if calming a prized mare, a mix of punishment and reward.
In this intoxicating caress, Lyla gradually abandoned her shame. Summoning her courage, she leaned back and, with a trembling voice, said, “Let me see you.”
The next second, the whip landed hard on her skin, making her gasp in pain.
“Watch your tone,” the man said coolly, “What should you call me?”
The pain sharpened her mind. Lyla knew the rules of this game well—she should address him as Master. But her innate pride and shame kept her from uttering the word.
The whip lingered on her skin, tracing the fresh welt, the slight sting making her skin tighten.
“My patience is limited,” the man spoke again. “Do you want me to s*pank you in front of all your students?”
Lyla’s body tensed, the intense shame making her bolt upright, shouting, “No!”
The alarm clock rang mercilessly, waking Lyla from her nightmare.
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a nightmare, but rather an extension of her innermost desires. As a psychology-majored master and now a lecturer at Westhaven College, Lyla was well aware of this.
That man, buried deep in her heart, was a secret she felt ashamed of—a man who only appeared in her dreams, yet had become her most unmentionable obsession over the past three years.
She picked up her phone to silence the alarm, and suddenly a message popped up on the screen, “Are you on your way? I brought you breakfast.” It was from Lucas.
“Crap.” Lyla muttered, realizing she’d almost forgotten about an important department meeting at the college today.
A mysterious benefactor had donated a building to Westhaven College’s Psychology Department, and today was the day to finalize the design plans. The Dean of Psychology Department encouraged all faculty to attend and share their opinions.
As an unassuming lecturer, Lyla wouldn’t normally attend such meetings, since her opinions didn’t carry much weight. But she was determined to apply for an assistant professorship and wanted to make an impression on the Dean and the review committee, so she had RSVP’d for the meeting.
Dragging her aching body out of bed, she quickly fixed her hair and makeup before heading out.
The Monday morning rush hour was a disaster, and by the time Lyla arrived at the meeting, the contractor’s presentation had already gone through three slides.
Thankfully, the meeting was open, with around a dozen people in attendance. Lyla slipped in through the back door, found a seat, and sat down. The man next to her slid a cup of coffee and a paper bag with a croissant toward her.
“I knew you’d be late, so I grabbed a seat at the back,” Lucas whispered with a gentle smile.
Lyla smiled awkwardly. She wanted to refuse, but the allure of the first coffee of the day was too great, and she wasn’t sure she could get through the meeting without it. So she took the cup and took a big sip. “Thanks, I’ll pay you back for breakfast later.”
“Just take me to a movie,” Lucas whispered, leaning in closer.
Lyla smiled again but didn’t respond, focusing on her croissant instead.
She knew Lucas liked her.
As the youngest assistant professor in Psychology Department, Lucas had a stellar reputation in both academic and professional circles. Besides his academic talents, he was incredibly handsome, with striking red hair, a legacy of his Irish heritage, and a gentle demeanor.
He was a true gentleman, always respecting Lyla’s wishes and maintaining a careful distance. He brought her medicine when she was sick, brought her breakfast when she was late, and was a great help with her application for assistant professor."
But Lyla always felt something was missing between them. Even though they had done most things that couples do, aside from sleeping together, their relationship remained in the limbo between friends and colleagues.
Gentleness. That was it! Gentleness.
Despite the shame Lyla felt for her dream self, she had to admit that a gentleman held no attraction for her.
In the most naïve and yearning years of her life, a man with his whip and rope had barged into her heart with conquest and desire, in a way she had never expected, and had since remained there.
The sound of applause brought Lyla back to reality. The presentation seemed to be wrapping up.
The presenter, sent by the contractor, made an exaggerated gesture to halt the applause. With a mysterious smile, he pointed to the remote in his hand. “Finally, the mysterious benefactor wishes to reveal the name of the building at the end of this meeting. He wants it to be named -- ‘Nicola Selene.’”
He pressed the remote, and the name Nicola Selene appeared on the screen.
In that instant, Lyla’s hand froze around her coffee cup, a storm brewing inside her.
The faculty in the room began murmuring, all speculating about who Nicola Selene could be.
“There’s no information about her online.”
“Sounds like a screen name.”
“This building is worth a hundred million—what kind of significant person would warrant such an expense?”
Lyla could no longer hear any of the voices around her. Her world had gone silent, as if she could only hear the sound of a whip cutting through the air.
No one would know who Nicola Selene was, because that name belonged to Lyla Sinclair. It was tied to the shameful and indulgent secret she kept buried deep inside.
After the meeting, Lyla ignored Lucas calling after her, leaving her bag behind as she rushed toward the presenter.
“Who’s the benefactor? Can you tell me?” she asked, with an urgent voice .
The presenter looked her up and down, seeing her as an insignificant faculty member, and replied impatiently, “I told you, it’s a mysterious benefactor. Even I don’t know who he is.”
“Then who contacted you? Someone as wealthy as him must have assistants or secretaries. Do you have their contact information?”
“Sorry, ma’am, I can’t help you.” The presenter quickly packed up his laptop, turning to leave the room as if to escape.
But Lyla wasn’t about to give up. She knew the college's' donation office would have a way to contact him. No matter what it took, she had to find out who this person was and why he had disappeared so suddenly all those years ago.
Just as she stepped out of the building, the Dean called out to her.
“Lyla,” he said, looking at her with a peculiar expression before pulling out a sticky note from his pocket. “This morning, I got a call from the benefactor’s office. They said that if no one inquired about his identity after the donation plan was finalized, his identity would remain a secret forever.”
Lyla’s heart started pounding wildly, and she interrupted him, asking urgently, “What if someone asks and won’t stop until she gets an answer?”
The Dean''s expression grew even stranger, as if he had stumbled upon a juicy piece of gossip.
"He said that if a woman inquires and is the type who won’t rest until she gets an answer, she shall have this number."
With a hint of a smile, he handed the sticky note to Lyla. She snatched it, not even looking at it before clutching it tightly in her hand, as if she were holding onto a shameful secret. A blush spread from her cheeks to her neck.
“Thanks,” she muttered, ignoring the Dean’s gaze as she rushed to her office.
It wasn’t until she leaned against the leather chair in her office that she let out a breath, trying to steady her racing heart. After regaining some composure, she opened her hand.
The paper was crumpled from her grip, but on it was a string of unfamiliar numbers.
With trembling fingers, she dialed the number on her phone.
“Hello, who is this?”
A familiar voice came through the phone, but Lyla froze, a sharp pang of disappointment in her chest. She didn’t speak, the phone growing warm in her hand.
“Hello?” the voice on the other end repeated. “Ms. Sinclair?”
“Yes, it’s me.” Lyla snapped out of her daze, taking a deep breath. “Has he… come back?”
“Yes, Ms. Sinclair, he has returned.”
Even though she had braced herself for this moment, Lyla couldn’t stop the tears that silently filled her eyes.
Her mind drifted back to that night three years ago.
Three years ago, at the age of 23, Lyla was accepted into Stonemont University’s psychology department due to her exceptional academic achievements. Skipping the master’s program, she became the youngest fully-funded PhD student, studying under an advisor renowned in academic circles. Her future looked promising, yet she was anxious—her advisor's primary research focus was on BD/SM psychology.Growing up in a traditional Christian family, Lyla had always received a conservative education about sex. She had never encountered anything related to BD/SM, and she found it difficult to understand.She once asked her advisor why, during the interview, he chose her despite knowing that her background didn’t quite align with his research.Her advisor gazed into her pale blue eyes, as clear as a river, and said sincerely, "You’re a girl with a strong curiosity, and you’re brave and persistent in your pursuit of answers. You’re a natural researcher—that’s why I chose you."Becoming a research sc
Lyla’s breath nearly stopped from the shock. She instinctively glanced around her, but the classroom was empty, the doors closed. There was no way anyone could be spying on her screen.She thought for a moment, then exited Shadow Master’s profile and clicked into her own. At the top of the page, she noticed a section showing recent visitors from the last half hour. But when she registered last night, she hadn’t seen this feature.Shadow Master: "Are you curious about the recent visitors feature? Don’t be surprised—I just added it. The code was written in a rush, not perfect, but it was more than enough to catch a mischievous little bug like you."Lyla smirked with mild disdain.Nicola Selene: Are you a hacker?Shadow Master: A hacker? I built this site myself—no hacker in the world could break into it.For a brief moment, countless thoughts raced through Lyla’s mind. Reflecting on today’s events on the forum, a bold idea suddenly formed.Nicola Selene: You wouldn’t happen to be the fo
As Lyla stood at the entrance of the city’s most luxurious hotel, she couldn’t help but wonder if she had completely lost her mind.Perhaps it was Shadow Master’s taunting words --“better drop out while you can” -- that had pushed her over the edge. Without hesitation, she agreed to his s/panking request. No one had the right to question her dedication to her work and studies. For her, that was an insult. Moreover, she couldn’t deny her curiosity. What kind of psychological experience would this s/panking game bring her? She was eager to find out.The time and place had been set by Shadow Master. When Lyla found out it was this hotel, she was taken aback. This place was renowned for its luxury, and she couldn’t help but wonder what kind of man Shadow Master was to afford such an extravagant venue.As she stepped into the hotel lobby, her phone buzzed with a message from Jessica: “You’re meeting Shadow Master?! I’ve tried to interview him so many times and never got a chance! You’re a
“The door wasn’t locked, I thought… I thought…” Lyla's voice grew softer and weaker, like a child caught doing something wrong.Carlo sighed, shaking his head with a hint of exasperation. “I’ve never had such a disobedient sub before.”“I’m not a sub, I’m just…” Lyla instinctively started to argue, but the moment her eyes met Carlo’s, she fell silent again.Carlo stepped closer, flipping the cane in his hand. He gently lifted Lyla’s chin with the metal handle, his gaze unwavering. “No worries, I’m happy to teach you.”The faint scent of musk and woodsy amber drifted from him, strangely making Lyla feel an odd sense of calm."Take off your pants and bend over the arm of the sofa." It was the first command from the Dom tonight, but as expected, it was met with the evening’s first refusal.“No.” Lyla pushed him away, her voice trembling. “We agreed this was just an experiment, I'm not gonna sleep with you.”Carlo’s lips curled into a mocking smile. “Who said we’re going to have s/ex? I’m
Lyla practically sprinted out of the hotel, her heart pounding in her chest. The curious glances people cast her way made her feel utterly ashamed, as if everyone could somehow see right through her, knowing exactly what had just taken place in that room.It wasn’t until she reached her dorm and slammed the door behind her with a resounding ''bang'' that she finally lifted her head and allowed herself to catch her breath. Her lungs ached from running, and her breaths came out in short, sharp gasps. She stood there for a moment, listening to the sound of her own ragged breathing echo in the silence. It was Friday night, and her roommates were out, leaving the dorm quiet.It took several minutes before her breathing steadied and the haze of panic lifted. Only then did she notice the sticky discomfort of sweat clinging to her back. Her shirt was soaked through.She headed for the bathroom, desperate for a shower. As she peeled off her clothes, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirro
Lyla quickly scanned her surroundings, ensuring there was no one nearby before she lowered her voice and angrily asked, "Are you following me?!"Taking advantage of her confusion, Carlo had already pulled out the chair across from her and sat down with a lazy grin on his face. He looked slightly tired, as if he hadn't slept well, but the mocking smile never left his lips. "Following you? I don’t have time for that. I’m here to catch a thief."As he spoke, Carlo pulled out his phone, and on the screen was a map with a flashing red dot. The location it marked was precisely where Lyla was sitting—in the library."What do you mean?" Lyla snapped, her irritation growing. "This is a university, not some cheesy soap opera set. I told you I didn’t want to see you again!"Carlo's grin widened, clearly enjoying her frustration. He wasn’t in any rush and answered leisurely, "Someone took my car keys, and I followed the signal to find the suspect. Isn't that what catching a thief is?""Car keys?"
She knew all too well that the Shadow Master was simply trying to provoke her. It was all part of his psychological game—shaming her, making her angry, and then luring her into submission. But Lyla, a psychology major, prided herself on not falling into his trap so easily.“Please,” she said, her voice calm and collected, “You know I’m not into this game. This was just a scientific experiment. Instead of wasting your time on me, why don’t you find someone who can truly submit to you?”She added sharply, “And please, don’t come to my campus again to discuss this. Let's try to resolve this in a decent way, Okay?”“Why not?” Carlo took a few steps closer, his expression laced with mockery. “Do you feel humiliated? Why feel ashamed of something you enjoy?”“I told you—I don’t enjoy this game,” Lyla repeated, trying to sound firm.“How do you know you’re not into this game?” Carlo’s smile grew even wider. “Why can’t you admit that my s/panking helped you sleep well last night? You can’t ev
In the days that followed, Lyla felt an incredible sense of relief. On the academic front, having broken through her psychological barriers, she suddenly found herself brimming with inspiration. Her progress with the research group’s project advanced smoothly, and everything seemed to fall into place. On the personal side, she hadn’t seen or heard from the Shadow Master at all. It was as though he had taken her rejection to heart and finally left her alone.Strangely, Jessica had also been ignoring her. Other than briefly seeing her during department meetings, Jessica seemed to go out of her way to avoid Lyla, acting as if they had never been friends. Lyla couldn’t shake the thought that maybe Jessica had started dating the Shadow Master. Maybe, under his influence, Jessica had decided to distance herself from Lyla as some kind of punishment. Every time this thought crept into her mind, Lyla felt a confusing wave of emotion rise up inside her. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what i