More rules

You collect Aalia’s laptop for her, then close and lock the door.

Aalia needs some more humiliation, you decide. And you're curious just how powerful the notebook is.

Organization: Aalia

New rule: Aalia’s base arousal is high enough to distract her when she’s not focused on a task.

New rule: Performing humiliating and degrading acts increases Aalia’s arousal.

New rule: Aalia will orgasm from only moderate physical stimulation, regardless of her mental or emotional state.

You look up from the notebook and notice that Aalia is pinching her thighs together, watching as you write.

“What’s that?” she asks.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

A new thought sends shivers down your spine. If Aalia (or anyone, really) ever got ahold of this book, your new life would be over. Time to protect yourself.

Organization: World.

New rule: No one notices or pays any attention to the notebook, or the act of writing in it.

Now what? you think. Oh, right...

“Stand still, put your hands on the back of your head, and spread your legs. I want to inspect you.”

You see the whites of her eyes as she widens them. The poor girl is terrified. “Y-you have to buy the t-tickets first.”

You roll your eyes. The damn tickets. “Fine,” you say, picking the laptop up from the ground where you had left it. Your leather wallet says “Gucci” in silver letters, you pull a heavy black credit card from inside. It takes only a couple minutes to fill out the information and buy the tickets. You show her the confirmation page.

She reads it, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. You notice that she’s breathing noticeably heavier than she was a moment ago and she looks very uncomfortable.

You repeat your earlier command.

“Okay, Master.” Slowly, her hands slip behind her head. A tense moment passes, then, with a deep breath, she spreads her legs. You immediately see why she is so uncomfortable. Her pussy is soaking, dripping down her thighs. Her clit is red and swollen.

You look at the rule book. Think, This is some crazy shit.

Her eyes are pinched shut, whether in embarrassment or to suppress her growing arousal, you don’t know. You watch her toes wiggle enticingly. You decide you’re happy to watch her squirm a little longer before you enjoy her.

“Follow me,” you say, intending to lead her to the second floor, where you somehow know the cleaning supplies are stored. Before you take three steps you add, “Crawl.”

“Please don’t make me—” she whines, but you cut her off.

“You agreed to be my ****, remember? Or do you want me to cancel those tickets?”

Her expression tells you she had never considered that possibility. You see moisture at the bottoms of her eyelids, but she drops to her hands and knees.