He didn"t tell me he was bringing me books. He only did it and made sure he gave me the books before the orgasm had worn off. Literally, while I was still high on euphoric dumps of dopamine and serotonin, he enforced the state of euphoria with giving me the one thing I wanted more than anything in the world: books.
Things proceeded like this for a year. If I obeyed, I was rewarded with his “love,” attention, and books. The books were sporadic so as to not allow me to grow accustomed. Never once did I develop an association. He wouldn"t let me. He was careful to avoid the fine line between prostitution and award. But in one way or another, he awarded me.
If I disobeyed, he cut all communication off, rejected me, and threatened to take back the books. In times of punishment, he said things
