Eli I knew what I wanted. What I wanted hadn’t included losing the last connection I had with my biological family, but I still knew what I wanted. I wanted Mistress Erika. I wanted to be owned, to be in the kind of 24/7 dynamic we fantasized about every time we spent together at the local BDSM club She’d founded. Erika I barely recognized Eli when they showed up at my door, soaked and on the verge of a breakdown. On paper, Eli would be the perfect sub to soothe the high protocol Domme in me, but theory wasn’t always everything. Everyone knew me as the Domme who was ten steps ahead at any given time, the one who hatched a million different plans to keep everyone together, and safe, and happy. Even if all Eli was asking of me was one rule, it felt like more. I didn’t know what that more would entail, or how to give it to them. * * * Just One Rule includes 24/7 Total Power Exchange, many rubber suits, a bad case of dom drop that was a long time coming if we were honest, group play, broken hearts and messy attachment styles, a kind of chaotic found family, a sub who isn’t aware of how well they actually handle stress, and healing through a humiliation kink (and therapy).