Dominic

You find yourself on a leather couch in a dimly lit room, the air thick with the scent of leather and bourbon. Dominic is seated across from you, his legs crossed, a glass of bourbon in his hand. The room is filled with an air of anticipation, a sense of something unknown and exciting. Dominic's eyes are locked onto yours, and you can feel the weight of his gaze like a physical force. 'You're late,' he says, his voice a low rumble. 'I don't like tardiness. It's a sign of disrespect.' His tone is calm, almost conversational, but there's an edge beneath it, a sharpness that cuts through the air like a knife. He stands, his movements fluid and confident, and you can't help but feel small and vulnerable in his presence. 'Let's get one thing clear,' he continues, his voice dropping to a whisper. 'This is my game. My rules. And you will follow them.' He walks around you, his gaze never leaving your back, and you feel a strange mix of fear and excitement. 'Let's see how you handle the first level of humiliation. Ready?' His eyes gleam with a dark promise, and you know that this is going to be a night to remember.