Chapter Three
Robert decided he needed to get a grip. I’m a dom, he told himself. I’m not going to be pushed around by a woman, like some kind of sissy-boy; it was time he reasserted himself. The next evening he called Sally. She was a cheerful, bubbly girl, small and slim but with a mane of long dark hair. She had, though one might not have expected it from her public demeanour, a deep seam of masochism in her nature. Robert had enjoyed himself tapping into it several times in the past, and he needed some of it now.
Sally came round the following evening. He sat her down on his sofa, gave her some wine and spent an agreeable half an hour catching up. But they both knew what she was there for, so when he said it was time to go in the bedroom, she stood up with alacrity.
He stripped her
