Helliot and Greg are asleep in one another’s arms, and I’m laying here, staring at the ceiling. The orgasmic bliss part is long passed, and all I’m left with now is the guilt that comes with being a domme.

I know that they want me to do this stuff to them. I know that they enjoy it. I know that they like it. I know that Greg enjoys it when I squeeze his balls until he feels like they’re going to pop. But I also know that it hurts. A lot.

I know that Helliot ...