We met in the hotel bar and you were instantly charmed by me. You didn’t even consider refusing when I invited you to my room and, when I plucked a set of handcuffs from my purse, you willingly let me clasp them around your wrists. Now I have you just where I want you. I dial reception to tell them I’ll be transferring my bill to your name. Enchanted by the confidence with which I command your financial obedience, you further melt in my hands, agreeing to anything I suggest. I slip into a scarlet, lacy lingerie set which has you simmering. You’ve barely been in my room for a few minutes and I already have you powerless and capti ve. I want us to spend more time together. I want you to end your trip early and come home with me. You’ll buy us a big house to live in together, plied by the thought of the many rooms we could fuck in. It’s what you deserve. More importantly, it’s what I deserve, and I’m redefining your purpose to hinge around pleasing me. You’ll cover all my expenses and worship me with your wallet like a good man should.