I had backed myself into a corner one more time. I had promised the completed project to my client by the 27 th …at the latest. It was the 26 th , and I had only the merest outline. I took myself to the coffee shop so that I would be free from the distractions at home. Sometimes I perform very well when I’m under the wire. Other times, like now, my mind seemed to wander to every possible subject except the one I was being contracted to write about.

I put some music on my laptop and plugged in my earphones in the hopes that my brain would relax enough to work. After hunting down lyrics for 20 minutes and then looking into tour dates for 20 minutes more, I decided maybe music wasn’t the best idea. I shut the music off and got two pages written before getting hypnotized by the memory of last night with Master.

He ran the flogger over my back and flicked it over my ass and thighs and back. There was no pattern to blows. The more I tried to anticipate, the more unpredictably he beat me. What started with laughter quickly accelerated into moans and grunts and then spiked into moistened eyes and shrill pleas. It had ended with passionate, ravenous kisses.

I shook my head and frowned back at the screen. My phone went off as a reminder I needed to get up and stretch my master’s body. I raised my rams over my head and locked my fingers. As I looked up and curved my back into a deeper stretch, I felt my skirt rise and tickle the backs of my thighs where Master had spanked them and marked them with his belt. My pussy tightened at the sensation. I felt tempted to bend over and touch my toes, thereby flashing whoever was seated behind me in the café. Master would never approve, I decided, and so I modestly did slow twists and side bends. My mind wandered back.

“Bend over,” he said and when I did, he placed his hand on the small of my back. He laid the stripes down onto my ass cheeks and thighs. He told me to spread my legs and then to spread them further. Only when my knees started to buckle did he let up…until the second series with the plug buried inside my ass. “Don’t you dare let that drop, slave,” he had commanded.

I shivered and flushed at the memory of his voice. Master had the ability to make me instantly wet at the first syllable.

I sat down gingerly and spread my skirt. I reset my alarm and rubbed my hands together.

I set myself to writing for the next hour. The sooner I got the work done, the sooner I could go back home. I imagined Master’s face and remembered his voice. “If you don’t want to sleep in the closet tonight, I expect you to finish your work today…to my satisfaction.”

“Yes, Sir,” I had said.

“Yes, Sir,” I said now, under my breath. To my surprise, I got myself almost to halfway done when the alarm went off. I smiled and almost texted Master, but I stopped myself. He would be more pleased to hear that I was done and not nearly half done. I just needed to remember Master’s stern voice and I could get through the next hours. When I had completed the job maybe he would tell me I was a “good slut” or even a “good girl”. Maybe he would even tell me I was “his girl”, but I didn’t have time to waste wondering about that. I worked for the next three hours, writing and stretching, taking short breaks to refresh my coffee or use the bathroom. Finally, I looked over my assignment and sent it off to my client and cc’ed Master.

As I drove through town, I imagined lying on the floor beneath him as he pleasured himself. My skin hungered for his cum to bless my body. I thought about when he spanked me over his knee and made me fuck his slave’s pussy with a dildo as he turned his slave’s ass into a hot bloom of color and stinging pain. The mixture of the pain of his hand raining down on my ivory skin juxtaposed with the pleasure of the vibrating plastic cock plunging against my clit and into my dripping pussy made my thighs clench together and my nipples to harden into sensitive nubs. I thought about when he had fucked his slave’s ass and felt a tinge of pride as I remembered how deep he had plunged and how he voice had sunk into a register of lust and raw pleasure.

As I pulled into my parking space I did text Master to ask if I could play with his slave’s clitty. I held the phone in my palm willing it to vibrate with his reply. I grabbed the laptop and locked the door. As I slipped my key into my front door’s keyhole, I recognized at once that the door was already unlocked. My heart rose into my throat as I pushed the door open.

“You can play with my slave’s clit, if you like, slut, or you can bring that hungry girl over here and let me do it,” Master said.

“Yes, Sir,” I said, as I stripped off my clothes in the ten strides it took to reach his open arms.