‘I like to imagine Bayek all splayed out, his arms secured and tied above his head while I ride him slowly. I’d play with his chest hair and rake my nails on those muscles while I ride him slowly. He’d ask me to ride him faster but I keep my pace slow. Tortorous. His requests become desperate pleas, but I still don’t give in, no matter how lovely he sounds all broken and pleading. Eventually he can’t take it anymore and he finally unleashes his real strength and pulls free from his bonds. He then flips me over and punishes me, giving me the roughest fucking of my life.’