I follow Logan out of the crowded room, legs still weak and head still light. The thumping music of the room fades as he takes me through the hallway lined with rooms and up the stairs. I can’t believe how close I was to cumming. I could have. I could have actually came with a man for the first time in my life. All I had to do was stop holding back the wave, but he wouldn’t let me.

I could feel his huge cock pressing into me as he fingered me. I’ve never wanted anything as bad as I want to feel it inside me, stretching my walls. Logan is a real man. He’s powerful, confident, and he knows how to give me what I need. I didn’t know how badly I wanted… no, needed that until him. Now that I have a taste of it, I’m practically starving for more.

All thoughts of decency, my worries about the business, problems in my personal life, and the way things with Ronnie and my mother are quickly deteriorating are pushed into the deep recesses of my mind. Logan’s presence leaves no room for anything else, and it’s a distraction more welcome than words can describe.

He leads me into a room that’s elegantly decorated. A four-poster bed takes up much of the space, but there are racks of toys and tools for punishment like there were in the room he took me to last weekend. My skin tingles at the memory, and I hope with all my being that he doesn’t dismiss me again without bringing me the satisfaction I so desperately need.

In a short period of time, being with Logan has already become more than something simply sexual. It’s an emotional step I didn’t know I needed to take, but now that it’s in front of me, I’ll do anything in my power to keep it.

He paces in front of me, powerful breaths making his broad chest rise and fall. I can almost feel his own need to take and dominate me. I want to just tell him to, but I know that wouldn’t be my place as his submissive. His submissive. I find myself asking the question at the front of my mind before I have time to stop myself. “Am I yours?” I ask.

He pauses in his pacing, eying me through his dark mask. He seems to hesitate with his choice of words before he finally speaks. “You can be. If you wish it.”

The promise hangs between us, almost like something tangible I could reach out and touch if I wanted to. “I do,” I say quietly, almost in a whisper.

“Then you need to understand my rules. If you’re to be mine, I can’t have you disobeying. Do you understand?”

I stand somewhat awkwardly, still just inside the room while he looms between me and the bed, watching me carefully. “I think so. Yes.”

“Yes, Sir,” he corrects.

“Yes, Sir,” I say.

“Good. The most important thing for you to understand is that you are mine only as long as you wish to be. If you wish to be released, you only need to say so. However, if you leave, you leave. We will part ways and that will be the end of our relationship together.”

“Relationship?” I ask. “Sorry,” I say quickly, realizing I’ve interrupted him.

“No need to apologize. I want to make sure you’re extremely clear about the terms of our arrangement before we take it further. Yes. This is a relationship of sorts. It will be more intense than any relationship you’ve previously been in. It will be more inclusive, more intimate. It will be more. When we’re together, you will be mine. Heart, body, and soul. You will do as I say when I say it. You will place complete trust in me and know that my desire is to explore the limits of your fantasies, but not to push you beyond those limits. After today I’ll have a document drafted for you to sign so that I can have a better idea of your hard and soft limits. Beyond that, our relationship will be based entirely on trust.”

I frown. “This feels so formal.” Some of the sexual excitement has drained from me, even though there’s still a faint throb in my core. What he proposes sounds so different than anything I’ve ever imagined. I’m overcome by a powerful sense of curiosity and tentative excitement, but it also scares me. It sounds like he could hurt me if he took advantage of my trust, just like Ronnie hurts my mom.

He stands motionless, looming like an angry god while he waits for my response. Trust… The word keeps repeating in my thoughts. A relationship completely built on trust? I want to agree to it. I’m drawn to the idea, even as I know there’s no way I could completely trust someone else. My life has been a long, never-ending line of betrayals. Trust only leads to pain, and I’m not here for more pain. I’m here for the money, and I’m here for the chance to experience something I’ve been missing my entire life. If I have to tell him what he wants to hear to get that, I’m not proud of it, but I’ll do it. I just have to hope that trust comes with time, because I can’t stand the thought of watching Logan walk away. Not now. Maybe not ever.

“I trust you,” I say.

The smile that slowly spreads his lips is not kind. It’s full of promise and darkness, and I’m ashamed by how much that thrills me.

“Get on the bed. Lie on your back,” he says. His voice is hard. Emotionless.

I step toward the bed a little hesitantly.

“Stop.”

I freeze.

“Take off your clothes and your bra, but leave your panties on.”

I swallow, closing my eyes to gather the courage to do this. It’s not hard though. My body has never felt like this. I can practically feel every nerve tingling with the expectation of his touch. My core feels like a void and the only thing that will bring me satisfaction right now is to have his thick cock plunged inside me.

I do as he says, stripping my clothes off quickly at first and then realizing he probably expected me to undress sexily. I force myself to slow, unhooking my bra as seductively as I can while I peek over my shoulder to see if he’s watching. I catch his eyes and the way they are roaming my body, taking me in. And I catch the outline of his cock against his expensive slacks. I let my bra fall to the floor and step out of the dress pooled at my feet, climbing on the bed.

“Shoes,” he says.

I kick them off and wait, sprawled out and completely exposed as he approaches. I’m self-conscious of the wet spot on my panties, but when he runs a hand down the length of my body, seeming to cherish every last inch of my skin, lingering on my wet panties, I know I don’t need to be self-conscious. I feel like a prize, laid out like something precious and valuable. It’s the way he looks at me and touches me. It’s impossible not to feel special when his attention is focused on me.

“I will give you the orgasm you want, but I have to punish you first. You made me come find you. I expect you to find me. Do you understand?”

I nod my head, eager for him to do whatever he’s going to, as long as it ends with him inside me.

He moves to the rack of toys, running a hand along them and watching me as he does, likely judging my reactions to see which tool I would prefer him to use. I flinch a little when he moves past a three-tailed whip. I only have a hazy idea of what I really want sexually, but I get the impression Logan has an even better idea than I do about what would bring me the most pleasure.

He reaches the leather paddle and I bite my lip, remembering when he punished me last week. I still remember how I held on to the slight tenderness in my ass the following day and loved it every time because it was a reminder of what transpired between us.

He unhooks the paddle, never taking his eyes from me as he approaches. Without even looking, he rips a strip of silk free that was tied to the bedpost.

“On your stomach, now,” he commands.

I obey without question this time. The power of his voice and the intensity in his eyes alone allow for no resistance.

He sets the paddle down long enough to tie my hands to a hidden eye hook attached to the bed frame behind me. He grabs another piece of silk and ties my ankles to the posts at the foot of the bed until I’m held tightly in place, arms above my head and legs spread.

Trust.

It occurs to me how much trust I’m placing in this man I barely know. I’m completely at his mercy, and I’ve never been more sexually alive than I am in this exact moment. Goosebumps rise across my body, as if in preparation for the blow to come.

“This is for making me come find you,” he says.

Whack!

I jolt against the silk holding me to the bed. Hot pain spreads in my ass, but he’s there a second later, calloused hand rubbing the spot, mingling pleasure with pain in a way that ha my pussy clenching around nothing. I don’t want to disappoint him, but I also find myself hoping for more reasons to be punished by him.

“This is for forgetting to call me sir.”

Whack!

I squeeze my eyes against the pain, relishing in it. The momentary burst of agony dulls thoughts of my lying father and my desperate mother. It makes it all seem distant and less real.

More of his soothing touch follows, intensifying the burn but erasing the sting.

“This is for fantasizing about other men. You only get wet for me, Kitten. You only cum for me. You’re mine.”

Whack!

I cry out, the line between pleasure and pain blurring, but I don’t care. The pain is washing over me like a drug and I can’t get enough. Some distant part of me recognizes the dirtiness of the moment, but I ignore it. I won’t let anything come between me and this experience. I’ve waited so long for this, not even understanding what I was waiting for. I brush aside all of my worry and let Logan’s dominance carry me away.

“You did good, Kitten. Very good.”

His praise makes my heart pound and my breath come short. I turn to look at him and there’s tenderness in him now. He takes off the mask and looks at me with more compassion than I would have thought possible from those hard eyes. “Are you on birth control?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say, gripping my fingers tight around the silk bindings, knowing what’s coming.

He nods, unbuttoning his shirt and stripping out of his jacket. His body is solid. That’s the only word for it. Hard lines and thick, smooth muscle covers every bit of him. If my hands weren’t bound, they would be all over him. He drops his slacks and his cock springs free, the tip glistening with pre-cum. Seeing how turned on he is makes me strangely proud, like I’ve done a good job for him. The feeling surprises me, because I’m doing this for myself. I’ve always been haunted by my failings in past relationships, and finding a way to overcome that means more to me than anything else.

Or at least I thought it did.

The head of his cock presses against my entrance. I suck in a breath, fighting the urge to press myself into him and force him into me. He eases in, slowly. I expected him to take me roughly. But the slow, almost tender way he enters me keeps my climax at bay, just barely. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He doesn’t want me to climax until he decides, and he’s not going to give me the hard pounding I need.

The orgasm threatening to explode within me makes everything I’ve ever felt before feel like the trickle of a small stream. My walls stretch as he eases himself deeper and deeper inside me.

“You’re so fucking wet for me. You wanted my big cock inside you, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

“Sir,” he growls, slapping a hand across my ass and making me jump.

The show of dominance nearly pushes me over the edge, but he slows his pace as if he knows exactly how close I am and still wants to draw it out. “Yes,” I gasp. “I wanted your fat cock inside me ever since I first saw you.”

His pace increases. His strong hands grip my hips, steadying me as I try to push myself into him, forcing him deeper. He’s breathing faster, harder, panting with each thrust now.

“Cum for me, Kitten,” he says through clenched teeth.

My core grips his cock as my body spasms with release. The orgasm rips through me like something feral, shredding my inhibitions. I moan loudly, gasping his name as he still ruts into me. He presses hard into me and groans, cock pulsing as thick ropes of cum fill me deep inside.

“Oh my God,” I say, letting my body relax for the first time since he touched me in the playroom. I feel like I was just hit by a bus. Every muscle is sore and spent. My clit throbs as the echoes of my orgasm fade and fall away.

He eases himself off me, grinning down. “You did so well, Kitten. You did so fucking well.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

He unties my hands and ankles, rubbing them tenderly, checking for marks--there are none. He methodically moves across my body, massaging some of the soreness from my muscles. I flinch as he rubs something cool onto my tender ass. The coolness quickly cuts through the sting from my spanking. He kisses me tenderly, then possessively and I love every second of it. I lay sprawled on the bed, almost lethargic as I watch him start to slip into his clothing. He treats me like no man ever has.

If someone had told me a month ago what I would be doing right now, I never would’ve believed them. And if a woman ever told me a man punished her the way Logan is punishing me, I would be appalled. I would think it was chauvinistic and degrading. Maybe it should be, and maybe it would be to other people, but the strangest part about all this is how private it feels. What Logan and I are building is entirely between us. It’s both extremely personal and impersonal at the same time, like there’s a wall between our real selves and this false reality we’ve begun to create. One where we can both be sexually free and explore our fantasies.

I feel a slight wave of unease when I realize I don’t know exactly what Logan expects. I know the rules of our sexual arrangement, but I don’t know what the rules are outside of that. I don’t even know if I want more than this. Couldn’t I just live a normal life by day and become this sexually uninhibited creature he’s making me into by night? Could it be that simple?

Maybe.

When I look at Logan and the possessive way he grins down at me, covetous of my beauty and jealously driven to protect his claim over me… I’m not so sure this is going to be anything remotely simple.

He picks up my underwear and moves to me, carefully sliding my panties back on. His thumb brushes over my swollen clit as he does and I suck in a sharp breath. Wow. I could already go another round, but I don’t know if my body would be able to handle it.

He finds my bra, putting it on for me and then sliding my dress back over my head and zipping it up. It’s incredibly intimate, and I love the two sides of him. He can be a dark, punishing dominant one minute and then a meticulous caretaker the next. It’s the perfect juxtaposition of hot and cold.

He kisses me tenderly on the neck and then the lips. “I have to go, Kitten. I’ll be in touch.”

He kisses me again and then leaves without so much as a look over his shoulder.