Dark Angel

I sat there, staring at the phone. I wouldn’t go. And when I hadn’t shown up, that would be the end of it. No more control. No more domination. Finished.

Forty-five minutes later I was ringing his doorbell at the run-down bungalow in a bad part of town.

My dark angel opened the door and pulled me across the threshold. He started stripping off my clothes as he herded me down the narrow stairs to the basement—to his special basement room.

“I just came to tell you . . .”

“Skip it. Come over here.”

“I . . . I. What’s that?”

“This here? This is a cock ring and ball stretcher. That over there? That’s the cube.”