I’ve lived a life of indulgence. I don’t remember a time I wanted for anything. I was a man who could have any woman on his arm, drive any car I wanted, and travel to the most exotic locations in the world anytime I pleased. Most would think that’s what dreams are made of, and for a long time, so did I.

That was until the inevitable happened. When all I had was cruelly ripped out of my hands. At the age of twenty-eight, I walked out and left my home, my family, and everything I knew to move to America. An Englishman in a country where I was a stranger. I was no longer the man who was feared; I was a man people wanted to know.

With my finances intact, I approached an old friend, Mason, and we opened Seven Sins together. I poured everything into a place where people don’t have to hide who they are. Where I don’t have to hide who I really am. Now, at thirty-six, I have a life most men my age can only dream of.

Only . . . I hide so much more than anyone knows.

“Mr. Anderson.” Her voice comes from the sofa, and I cast her a glance. She’s a new performer I’m thinking of hiring. A contortionist who will be working with one of the Dom’s to perform positions with rope. Mason and Savvie are planning a vacation, and I want someone who’s going to keep my customers interested.

“Do you take orders?” She nods. Her face is sweet, pretty even. Her long, black hair hangs to the middle of her back. She’s got big, brown eyes that are slanted, hinting at her Asian genes. “Get on your knees,” I tell her, watching her move to the floor where I’ve pointed. My office is decked out in beautiful implements to use on the submissives who dare walk in here.

I’m not a sadist by any means, but I do enjoy showing a woman how little control she has when I’m near. I can make a woman come just by taunting her nipples and clit. But that’s not my kink. I’m a man who enjoys indulgence. Multiple women worshiping my cock is what I enjoy. I no longer want love or to own just one submissive. I train them, I make them ache for me, then I shove them into the arms of another Dominant. Never get attached. Don’t let emotion in. And never, never take a submissive more than once.

I’ve learned that the love of a sub is something you cannot ever counter. They love hard. They give their all, and that’s something to be very wary of. I have rules. Five to be exact. And I’ve never deviated from them. This is how I’ve become the man that every woman that walks into my club wants. They all crave to kneel before me.

“Open your mouth and stick your tongue out. You’re going to swallow my cock. If you can do so without puking, you’ve got the job.” She obeys without question. “I’m going to fuck your pretty face, and when I’m done, you’ll leave. If I give you the job, you’ll return tomorrow evening at seven. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Mr. Anderson.” Beautiful. Rising, I stalk toward her while unzipping my slacks.

“Good girl.”

Her big eyes peek up at me as I fist my cock. It’s hard, ready to see what she’s made of. As I slide into her mouth, I forget. My mind blanks out the pain, the agony, and the ache I live with daily. It’s the only time I am able to shove the memories away, when I’m inside a woman.

I forget who I was.

I forget what I did.

And with each cunt I fuck, mouth I use, and ass I drive my cock into, I become a new man. One no longer needy for love. No. I create an animal. Hungry and feral. A man no woman will love. Because I’m not deserving of it. Never have been, and never will be.