The apartment was large and well furnished, with a huge eight-foot window overlooking the city. It was also quite cool. The air conditioning must be cranked all the way up, she thought. She walked over to look out the window, hoping Mark would check her out. Once again, however, he was looking everywhere but. Another standard trick, letting her think he had no interest. Okay, she told herself, its just sex. Maybe a little rougher than she was used to, but still just sex. Walking over to the coffee table, she removed her watch and bracelet, putting them down on the table.

"Take your shoes off," Mark said quietly.

Allison bent over and slowly removed them, giving him another great shot of her full, milky-white tits. This time, she didn't look up to see if he was watching. When she finished, she kicked the shoes under the table and looked up at him. He was looking this time, down at her feet with their deep red nails. He wasn't just looking. He was staring. Foot fetish? Taking a chance, she playfully wiggled her toes. His eyes wandered up her legs to eventually linger on her tits. She raised her arms over her head, taking her long hair up with them. "All yours, sir," she said in her best little girl voice. "Would you like me to turn around?"

He nodded, so she turned in a slow circle. She gave her skirt a little flip, giving him a glimpse of the curve of her ass in her black lace thong. She turned back to face him and put her head down demurely. This was her chance.

"I'm ready when you are, sir."

"Then follow me." Mark walked down the hallway. They stopped in front of a door that had two symbols carved into it. "Pleasure and pain," he said softly. "They can both be found behind this door. It's just a question of which comes first." As he spoke, he stared intently into her eyes.

"Now," he began, "I'm required to tell you the rules. Once in that room, you'll refer to me as 'Master.' Any other response will lead to pain. Understood?"

"Yes." Pain. Butterflies again.

"The safe word is 'cease.' Say it, and it ends. You won't pass, but I'll stop. You can only say it once. We won't start over."

"Okay," Allison replied. A safe word! This was not sounding good.

"This continues until either you quit, or I feel you've been properly broken. Any questions? It's your last chance to speak freely."

She looked away from his eyes and gave him a shy smile. Reaching up, she put her hand on his arm. "Listen, Mark," she began, lightly running her nails up to his shoulder. "I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot. I was just a little nervous."

"Understandable," he said, looking down at her tits.

Oh yes, she thought, I can do this. "I've never done anything like this before." She lowered her eyes, putting her lip out and trailing her nails back down his arm. "I have to say you're quite sexy." She squeezed his arm. Damn, it did feel good. "So, why don't we go into your bedroom, and you can lie back while this bad little girl makes it all up to you."

She moved her hand to his face. He leaned into it, closing his eyes as she rubbed his cheek.

"Yeah, that's it," she cooed, "just let me take good care of you. We can forget all this rough stuff and just have a good time. I'm so much more fun when I'm playful." She gave him the full power of her green eyes and pout. "Yes? Please, sir?"

She removed her hand from his face, lowered her head, closed her eyes, and waited. Mark's hand gently touched the side of her face. She opened her eyes and smiled at him as she rubbed her cheek into his hand. His hand quickly shifted from her cheek to her chin. He tilted her head up so their eyes were only inches apart.

"You're a very attractive woman, Allison. I'm sure to the frat boys, you're something special. But to me, you're just another proud whore who doesn't know her place."

"I'm willing to learn, sir," Allison began, "I..."

She stopped. His eyes had changed colors, they had gone from greenish gold, to a shade of so dark they appeared black.

"Y...your eyes," she whispered.

Ignoring her Mark squeezed her chin tighter. "Telling me you like them younger. Well of course you do. You like them younger because they're more controllable, because they've barely gotten their little cocks wet, and they melt when they see a woman who's older and knows how to dress. You love it because you think you're more than they can handle." The smirk came back. "Truth is they're all you can handle." He let her chin go and, stepping back, put his hand on the door knob. "Allison Saunders, do you enter this room of your own free will?"

Here we go. She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. "Yes."