Master stood behind me listening, watching, and waiting. I loved to be on display for him. I loved it when he used me for his pleasure in the many pos...tions he chose. I was his sex slave, here for his pleasure. He was my first love; he was my only love. He taught me the art of BDSM. As far back as I can remember I always wanted to serve and obey even before I knew what it meant to be a submissive.I loved the feel of his whip on my ass. He did it out of love. I was never really a bad slave. I. One small window offered what little natural light the dreary winter’s morning had to offer, only marginally helped by the glare of his computer screen which reflected off his thin-framed spectacles.The Headmaster’s desk was built from solid oak, its colour matching the long wall panels but was now worn and scratched, and Mr Peddigrew often imagined it had been installed by the school’s very first Headmaster a whole century earlier.Three photos in silver frames stood proudly next to his. More

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