These five stories contain no ropes, no chains, no leather. They are devoid of stretch racks, whipping posts, crosses of crucifixion, for there is no interrogation, no torture, no torment of milking or orgasm denial... well, scratch those last two items. These are lust stories, and the only bondage of tortured heroes comes from the imagination of my victims. I like to think that my amazing skills of man-pleasing somehow bring out the best of a man, coercing him to fancy himself a pumped up and defiant super-stud, but that would sound arrogant I suppose. Just seems to me that once I get a man naked, there's no telling where his brain will take him. You'll have to decide whether or not I'm the cause of it.