“That’s my girl,” he says, before guiding me onto the bench. I climb onto the top section and center myself on my stomach, leaving both of my legs on the bottom sections and my hands directly in front of the bondage rings. Nas doesn’t waste a second sliding a rope through each ring and wrapping them around my wrists as if he was a boy scout in a previous life. By the time he’s finished, I’m able to grip the rope and pull, but it doesn’t give me any more than an inch of slack for my arms to move. Just like he said, I’m completely at his disposal. Once I’m locked in, Nas stands up and walks to the front of the bench.

“Tell me how you feel right now,” he says, his voice low and smooth, calm and collected, like a man completely in his comfort zone. He crouches down in front of me so his face is level with mine, and the mixture of emotions swirling inside me makes me feel like my world is tilting.

There’s so much I want to say, but I don't know which answer is the right one. The world wants me to say I don't like this—that this is filthy and the way degenerates act. Society will think I’m disgusting for this. They will call me a whore and frown at the thought of a woman enjoying what's about to happen, and like it or not, we care how society thinks of us. Nobody wants to be judged for what they enjoy. So, I’m still hesitant, with invisible restraints pinning me down internally. I hate it, but it’s true.

Then, there’s the other side of me. The dark side that wants to scream how fucking stupid society is. The same society that is inherently and irreparably flawed dares to judge me? Fuck that. Fuck them. I will give in to this. I will love it. I will embrace it. I will allow myself to be flayed, sliced open and showered with pain, because that’s what I want. I want to hurt, and I want to be brutally fucked. To hell with what anyone else thinks.

“Hey,” Nas’s voice cuts in. “You still with me?

“Yes, Sir” I answer.

“Are you scared?” he asks, which makes my heart beat harder.

“No, Sir. I just don’t want you to think less of me.”

“What? Why would I ever do that?”

I release a breath and ignore the part of my brain that cares about the rest of the world. I don't need anyone else to understand. Hell, I don't even need to understand it. All I know is that I’ve fought myself for too long, and now it’s time to stop. I’m going to let my darkness win.