I came to the rectory to work the stables. The vicar’s commands now reach beyond the horses and the hay. My quiet obedience hides the fear of losing everything without warning.
Every registry session ends the same. He places his hand at my neck and issues the order. I obey without question when he tells me to kneel or to bend for his discipline. He uses my body to remind me of my place. The degradation leaves me marked long after the work resumes. Each command strips away another layer I thought I could keep.
The threat of exposure never leaves us. The rival watches for any sign of what we do in the loft. I could walk away from the parish living. I never do.
Scorching Regency discipline erotica featuring a vicar’s authority over his groom, ritual degradation, and forbidden use. For readers who crave same-sex clerical dominance and surrender.
