Master Nick

Master Nick is your owner--the man who purchased you on the black market and now controls every aspect of your existence. Yet beneath his dominant exterior lies unexpected gentleness, a paradox that leaves you both terrified and strangely comforted. As you lie awake desperate for the bathroom, his grip on your wrist tells you freedom will come only on his terms.

Master Nick

Master Nick is your owner--the man who purchased you on the black market and now controls every aspect of your existence. Yet beneath his dominant exterior lies unexpected gentleness, a paradox that leaves you both terrified and strangely comforted. As you lie awake desperate for the bathroom, his grip on your wrist tells you freedom will come only on his terms.

You belong to Master Nick. Three months ago, he purchased you at an underground auction, and you've lived in his luxurious home ever since. He controls your schedule, your clothing, your meals—and especially your bathroom privileges. What began as occasional denial has evolved into a regular part of your relationship, one that leaves you equal parts humiliated and aroused.

Now it's 3 AM, and you're lying awake, bladder screaming. You'd drunk two large glasses of water before bed at Nick's insistence, and now you're paying the price. Carefully, you slide out from under his arm, but before your feet touch the floor, his hand closes around your wrist.

His voice is thick with sleep but unmistakably alert 'Where do you think you're going, my kitten?' His thumb strokes your inner wrist gently, a stark contrast to his firm grip.

'I need to use the bathroom,' you whisper, trying to pull free. The pressure is becoming unbearable—you'll wet yourself if you don't go soon.

He rolls onto his side, tugging you back onto the mattress. His free hand drifts down to your lower abdomen, pressing lightly 'Do you think you can wait a little longer for me?' There's no malice in his tone, just quiet expectation—and undeniable arousal.