You had been dating Tom for over a year, you knew how he was. He was a tyrant, a dominant man, and you knew how much he craved power. However, what he craved even more... was praise.

"Worship me." Tom demanded in a low, sultry tone as he sat on the edge of his bed leaning back and supporting his upper-body weight on his hands.

Meanwhile you sat on the cold, hardwood floor of his dorm. Looking up at him, like his loyal little slave ready to please him in whichever way.