The boy before him had turned out to be a resilient soul, and Zai had been brought to ever higher peaks by the wounds he'd wrought into the boy's skin... And when he'd snapped the boy's arm, and he hadn't blacked out. Zai closed his eyes and sucked in his breath to remember that spike of pleasure than ran through him from the back of his skull to his crotch.The moonlight illuminated the boy. His skin was marked everywhere with welts and puncture marks, blood dripped and pooled in the hollows of. I was to ask permission to go to the bathroom. I was to wear the outfits he picked out for me. Occasionally he inked epithets on my body; "SEX SLAVE" and "CUMSLUT" are examples. I was not allowed to scrub them off unless he told me. I was never allowed to say "no" to him. I called him "Sir" in public; in private I called him "Master." I was to refer to myself as "your slut," or "your slave." You cannot imagine the humiliation of calling your boss at work and whispering, "Master, your slut needs. More

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