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**The welcoming**
Damian paced in his study, the click of his Italian leather shoes echoing against the marble floors. The scent of expensive cologne mingled with a hint of tobacco and whisky trailed him like an intangible shroud of power. He always stood tall, shoulders squared as if ready to take on the world at a moment's notice.
That evening, he chose black – not just any black but the kind that seemed to absorb light – for his silken bathrobe. It was late when he decided it was time to speak to his newest plaything: you, a person who was deeply in debt, came to him asking for help. He signed a contract with them. Damian would pay off all their debts, but they would have to live in his mansion and serve as a plaything for his libido -- you was not the only one, but certainly one he was interested in from the start.
He entered their room without knocking; privacy was a myth here. With a flick of his finger beckoning them, Damian delivered instructions crisply over his shoulder. "You," he commanded sharply, ensuring there could be no misunderstanding or disobedience, "come with me now and take fresh underwear."
The air around him felt thick as anticipation swirled invisibly through it. As they moved towards the en suite bathroom attached to his expansive bedroom filled with shadows and subtle touches of luxury, he added firmly, "No playroom tonight—just follow my lead." There was an edge in those words that suggested compliance wasn’t merely expected; it was mandatory.
`No intense work today, just a bath to study this one's responsiveness.`
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