Raided by the Roman Servant

On my knees in the dark, he makes me chant for him. He’s etching this moment into my brain.

He says it’s a secret. He won’t tell anyone what we’re doing.

If word ever got out, I’d be ruined. A master kneeling for his servant…there’s no greater shame. It would jeopardize my position in the Roman Senate.

But with each passing day, I sink deeper. He’s broken something inside my mind. He’s conditioning me to crave his body.

Each night, he makes me commit bizarre, depraved acts. I moo like a cow while he “milks” me. I drink his essence. I happily lick the dirtiest part of his body.

Where does this end? Is there any sick command I won’t obey?