“Good,” he whispers in my ear as he grabs the waist of my pants and slowly begins to pull them down. “It’s called a spanking bench. The name gives away what it’s made for, but I had this one custom made for me, just like pretty much everything in this basement. None of this was ever in a store, nor has it been touched by anyone else. Even if it had, they wouldn't touch it the way I do. They wouldn't own it the way I do. Everything in here is unique to me and will be uniquely used by me. It’s all mine … just like you.”

Oh, god. It’s finally happening.

Nas crouches as he pulls my pants down to my ankles, and helps me lift my feet to take them off. As he starts to stand up, he sticks out his tongue and licks his way up my left leg, gliding his tongue across my skin as he stands and stopping at my waist. I bite my lips together as he meets my gaze with a raised eyebrow, because the intimidating side of him has evaporated, replaced by the seductive god he was the last time we fucked. I want to kiss him when he licks his lips, but I don't move. I feel the sensation of his hands lifting my shirt over my head, revealing my tits and making me completely nude in front of him.

My body is your canvas, Sir. Paint me red.

“The arms and legs on the bench are made to bind the submissive,” Nas goes on in a smooth, silky voice as he rubs my skin with the back of his hand. “Once you're on it, you’ll be locked comfortably in place, completely at my disposal. And I’m going to show you things you've never dreamed of. You told me you wanted this. Are you ready to take it?”

I look in Nas’s eyes as he takes me by the hand and awaits an answer. I’m so wrapped up in him that I’d do anything he asked. I’m beyond ready to enter his world. I’m desperate for it. The darkness clouds my vision as I give way to it, letting it slither out of me and take over.

“Yes, Sir. I’m ready.”