That was how our days went for a while, me setting up his things, cleaning up his home — though little actual cleaning was necessary since he lived alone! — and then kneeling upon a satin cushion at his feet as he fed me for each meal he was home. He bizarrely never made any move to push things further, just his strong hand stroking my hair and my back, on down to my rear.

I just chalked it up to some weird power play. He just liked feeling in control.

I had no idea how to deal with it all, I was lost. My feelings were in turmoil and...