Still no contact from, Sir.
Still no contact from, Sir.
I cannot go another minute without him.
It’s the weekend, and no physical contact is allowed between Sir and myself.
He has a family, three little children and a wife.
He only told me snippets about his family, but I found pictures on Facebook. I practically follow his wife’s album every day and night. Studying pictures of her with him, and with the family. How happy he is, how happy they all are.
I shake the thought.
And me, I’m in my 20’s, still single and living with my mother, with nothing but hope and a law internship to live for.
I feel myself slipping away at each hour without any response from him.
He just instructed that I wear red underwear today, and that I can only eat foods starting with the letter C.
So I ate: carrots, cucumber, cottage cheese and crackers for breakfast.
When I sent him a picture as proof, I got no reply.
That was ten hours ago.
This is when sanity kicks in and I start to wonder if this deal with him was a mistake.
I feel as if my life rotates around him. Like the earth around the sun.
I cannot do anything without the thought of him or the commands from him.
It is so easy for him to leave a scene with me and continue his day, but me, I carry those scenes with me right to the bed. In bed I replay those scenes and feel every orgasm.
- no new mail! -
I check my inbox — nothing.
He warned that I do not contact him. But I cannot help it.
Immediately I go to compose new mail and start:
I know that no contact is allowed, but I feel empty without you, Sir. Please advise what I am to do next.
— send —
It’s been two hours since I sent the mail. He never replied. And I’m sitting in front of my laptop, hungry, and without any reason to move further.
I want out of this…I need to get out of this.
I click on compose new mail:
I just cannot do this anymore.
I hesitate to click send…
I can’t. I am spellbound.
So I crawl back from the laptop. Close it.
Rise from the seat, get into my denim shirt, and walk out the room.The room I was in for twelve hours.
I need to live, just for today.
I had an important corporate meeting to attend today.
Sir was was going to be there, two other portfolio managers and five trainees including myself sat around a ten-seat boardroom table.
Nobody sat at either end of it. We all kept it open for Sir, as he was the case’s Legal Partner.
I wore my lace stockings today. It was black, with a shimmer of grey to it.
My skirt was body fitting, black like my silk blouse, that showed a hint of my red bra underneath.
He ordered that I wore this for today.
He always sends me emails the night before to inform me on what he wants me to wear.
I tried to fit his request, however I didn’t have the red, patent leather killer pumps he wanted.
Instead, I wore my black, patent leather pointed heels (the ones he bought me). I knew he was not going to be happy about this.
But I had no choice, I could not afford another pair of high stilettos on my card. Mom would notice, as I am usually in flats or sneakers.
The boardroom was buzzing with talks about the case we were about to take on. It was a new client, something about a rich man suing his wife for wanting half of his massive company, after they’ve divorced.
I wasn’t really interested as I never got to do the exciting part of the case. I was always thrown into reading letters— the “he-said; she-said” letters.
I sat quietly on the far right of the table, a few chairs away from the rest, and as I considered to move closer, the boardroom door flung open.
He wore a silken navy suit, with a black shirt and black neck tie.
His hair was wet, as if he had just came from a shower, and his face was grizzled with fresh hair that grew back from an earlier shave.
I stared, whilst feeling my thighs ache for his hands, as they were hidden in his pants pockets.
My chest started swelling and my breathing increased, as he placed his entire attention on my chest — red bra, as requested.
I bit my lip and dropped my head to my notebook to avoid suspicion around the table.
Everybody rose from their seat to greet him.
I even forgot to do so, but luckily nobody even noticed I didn’t.
After all seated themselves down again, He stalked towards me, nodded his head, and pulled out the chair on my left.
From the whole lot of the table, he chose to sit next to me. A trainee, not even one of the managers with whom he should be in serious communication with.
This made me feel confident, and important. But I never showed it.
He opened up his leather diary, removed his silver and black Mont Blanc pen, and placed it on the glossy table.
"Go ahead, Marlene, tell me what the approach with this case will be."
His voice was stern, yet it lacked energy as he was clearly bored.
Marlene was the head manager, blonde, blue eyes, button nose, and burgundy lips. Always smiling at Him as if they something going.
I always doubted that, but something in my mind asked me what if I was just another “number” to his collection of ”submissives’” ?
Before I could think further, Marlene began to talk.
Her voice was aimed at the people around her and at him, instead of me.
But that was not a problem for me as somebody else was giving me the attention I desired all morning.
Sir, rolled his Mont Blanc at my notebook. Stared at me, and whispered
"Take notes, child".
I nodded, and tried to fight a smile. He knew well that I had my own ballpoint pen.But he clearly wanted me to use his.
I started writing, and as I underlined key words, jotted out bullet points, I suddenly felt a cold hand crawl and dig itself into the upper part of my left thigh.
My body froze, and when it did, I heard a whisper
I continued, but sensations were taking over so much so I couldn’t even spell anything, not even the word divorce.
The cold hand then dug deeper into the upper left thigh, so high, that his fingers started pulling on the strings of my lace pantie.
I shifted a little, as the sensation gave me a tickle.
Suddenly felt a slap on my thigh.
"Sit still child".
Nobody could hear us, it was so inconspicuous.
I sat still, and wrote. One eye on the notebook, the other on his arm, as I could not see his hand.
The fingers near my pantie, started to get wild and firmer.
It dug into the lips of my vagina, and eventually the finger slid into the center of my vagina, and into it.
All of this, was whilst wearing my pantie.
I started to sweat, and shake.
But this didn’t deter him.
His fingers were stroking my wet vagina. My wet pantie.
God my wet everything.
Suddenly, the finger stopped at the center, and the hand crawled back onto the thigh.
His hand jerked my thigh wider and towards him now. Spreading my legs farther part.
He moved himself a little closer, nobody seeing, and sucked his fingers. The ones that wet me.
"Taking notes Miss?"
He asked aloud, trying to put me on the spot.
I turned to him, red in the face and nodded, “Yes, sir”.
"Good. And don’t leave that pen’s nib open too long, Mont Blanc ink is a real bitch to source."
He cursed so casually in front of his staff, and suddenly the others laughed at me in shame.
I swallowed, knew this was part of his game, and continued writing as Marlene resumed with her nonsense talk.
I felt his hand get hold of the thigh again, and this time, he never went for the pantie, but pulled it roughly aside with his finger, thus exposing my swelling vagina, and sunk his index and middle finger inside of me.
I couldn’t write at all. But placed both my hands on my forehead then back onto the desk.
Everybody looked at me.
Even He did. With his fingers still in me.
"Are you okay?"
He asks, slyly.
I nodded, and started writing again.
His fingers got more wild, more deeper, touching, penetrating, tickling.
I moaned softly, and coughed afterwards to hide the moan.
I heard him laugh quietly to himself.
I couldn’t take the constraint any longer. My body was becoming wild.
Then suddenly, he stopped and removed his hand, turned to me and said aloud:
"Can I see you for a minute Anna, you don’t look to well. Let me take you to the day nurse. Marlene, you resume. I’ll be back."
Everybody stared in confusion, Marlene glared at me, and I got myself up and stormed out the room, with him pushing my back with his fingers.
As we got out the boardroom, he shoved me to the right, into a corner room where brooms and mops and cleaning materials were held.
He closed the door.
Slammed my body frontwards to the wall.
Ripped my skirt down, along with my panties.
Unzipped himself so fast.
And inside he slid himself, biting my neck whilst at it.
"God, Anna, you make a beast out of me.
With your sexy thighs, and sluttish bra.
God why do you push me?”
I never answered, my face was muzzled by his hand that was inside of my mouth, holding onto my teeth to avoid me from talking.
He started to penetrate deeper, harder, faster, wilder.
So much so, the mops and brooms started rattling in their closes.
I felt my chest slam back and forth against the cold wall.
It was riveting.
My butt cheeks were aching as he slapped them whilst fucking me with a hard and rock solid erection.
Eventually he reached climax, I did so earlier.
He turned me around.
Ripped open my shirt, sniffed my bra, pulled them down, and sucked on my breasts.
"Mine. You are mine."
I wrapped my hands around his neck, to near him.
But his hands got hold of mine and placed them on his swollen erection.
"FInish me off, now."
I knew what he meant.
So I did. His swollen erection was hot.
Throbbing underneath my hands.
I stoked back and forth, hard then soft, while he bit onto my nipples, moaning and mumbling.
I was in a trance of pain and pleasure.
Eventually I felt a warm liquid spill onto my fingers, I knew he climaxed again.
His teeth let go of my breasts, his hands held onto the wall behind me, and he dropped to his knees in exhaustion.
He wrapped his hands around my thighs, placed his head into my sex.
Licked it. Kissed it. Bit the hairs on it.
Then looked up at me, and whispered:
"I want you to give that notes you wrote, and give them to me, as I never heard a thing that bitch was on about in there."
I smiled, and nodded. Smiled at him calling Marlene a bitch.
"But what about my notes?" I asked.
"You can get a copy from one of your silly peers.Now get dressed, get your notes, excuse my presence from the meeting, and meet me during lunch with the notes.”
I felt so rejected at this. How he made me feel on top of the world, all his at one minute, then have me hit rock bottom and to reality.
But that was part of the game. We weren’t lovers even though I felt love.
He was just my Master and I… his pet.
I nodded again. And watched him dress before me.
He looked at me, and my shoes, then at my face again.
"Red pumps, child. Not black points."
He turned around, opened the door of the room, and slammed it closed to my face.
He never even said anything about what happened. Or felt anything.
All I heard were his footsteps heading to his office and not the board room.
And me, I just stood there, alone. Abandoned.
Yet, I was still burning, waiting for each brimstone on my body to cool down so I could go back into that boardroom, and face the humiliation he has created for me.
I took a deep breath, and started to get dress.
He said that I could only have green foods in my plate tonight.
So the meal my mother cooked - steak, peas, broccoli, sweet potato and carrots - had to be dissected into green only.
After I managed to select sufficient peas and broccoli from the dish, my mother glared at me as if I just committed a murder.
"Are you on a diet?" she asked, eyes piercing into my empty plate.
I couldn’t tell her: no, I was merely eating green food that Sir told me to.
So I lied.
"Yes. My skirts cannot close anymore."
I continued to choose more broccoli as I was dying for food.
"Then this is not the way to lost the weight. You’ll starve to death."
For her sake, and for the sake of leaving the table as soon as possible, I cut myself some steak, placed it neatly into my plate and started to eat. The vegetables only.
Eventually, after some time of stalling with my meal, and telling her about my day (which I don’t always do) my mother eventually left the table and I was alone.
As she turned around, I threw back the steak into the dish, untouched,and gulped the last pea in my plate.
I headed to the dishwasher, dumped my plate in there, and departed to my room.
I was still hungry. Very hungry. I needed to eat.
That’s when I got hold of my laptop.
Finished eating but I’m still starving. Can I not have anything more please, sir? There was steak.
I sat waiting for his reply.
It was the night, and he was with his family, but he assured me that I could always email him.
Still no reply.
My stomach started to shout.
I walked around my room, dusting my shoes in anticipation for his reply.
A lot of minutes.
"Three bites of steak. One more green. Then undress, get into something pink. Capture it. Send it to me."
His pop up eventually appeared.
I giggled aloud. Jumped up, but for some reason I lost my appetite the minute he emailed me.
First thing that came to mind was the photo of something pink.
I had soft pink lingerie that he bought me two weeks ago.
Before I went for it, I had to reply.
"Thank you sir."
I locked my room door. Undressed. Climbed into the pink pantie. Hooked the pink bra around me and sat on my bed.
It was freezing, but my body was heated by the idea of what he wanted me to do. I was smiling all through the process.
"For you. As requested, sir"
I got hold of my fleece gown, and waited for his reply on my portfolio, like a little girl, waiting on Christmas morning to arrive so she can open the wrapped gift.
"I’d throw you over the desk and fuck you blind right now. Good girl."
His reply was so sensual. It got me off guard, and suddenly left me burning between my thighs.
I immediately removed my gown. Got hold of the camera, sat myself on the bed, and this time, I also removed everything that was pink.
"More pink, Sir. This time, it’s natural."
There was no reply this time.
Today I wore my black, pinstripe pencil skirt.
It sits just above the knees, and has a medium length slit on the side of the right leg.
To go with the black, I decided on a white sheer blouse.
As I worked in a strict, professional environment, I wore a white camisole underneath. It was the only barrier preventing me from being naked.
Also, he wouldn’t approve if I showed up for the enticement of other eyes.
The shoes I wore were the ones he bought me: black patent leather, pointed-toe pumps.
It hurt at first, as it was slightly too small, but because he chose it, I had to wear it. And it did cause pain. A lot of it. But as time grew older, so the shoe fit me just right.
My hair was tied into a bun. Tendrils of black hair hung onto my neck. I have dark, thick and uncouth hair.
He doesn’t like for it to hang wildly. So I try to tie it up.
I turned on my laptop, the company provides us with one.
Mine is silver. I actually wanted black. But he chose mine.
I never knew why, as I was the only person with a silver laptop.
But. now I understand why. Because he chose me.
I really cannot forget the first day I met him. It was at the trainee induction session.
He wore a gray shirt, navy tie with silver cufflinks and a tight fitting slacks.
His hair, black, straight and slightly wild. Like mine, fell just short of his eyes.
His eyes, a dark, deep black, were deeper than they appeared. He wasn’t Aryan for sure.
He is definitely from an exotic origin. But from a close view, he was Caucasian.
When he entered the room, he posed a question to all the trainees that sat with their notebooks in front of them.
"Why are you here?"
I tried to shy away from the crowd. And I think that is what caught his attention, hence his reason for selecting me from the fifty people.
"To learn practical skills of law."
I remember my answer as if I said it yesterday.
It was a lie, I wasn’t there to learn anything. I just did it because my mother wanted me to be a lawyer.
"Wrong answer. Who has the courage to give me something less cliche than that?"
He insulted me. Embarrassed me. Dismissed me.
I cringed, moved even further to the back of the room, and dropped my head in shame.
I didn’t know at that moment why he humiliated me like that. But others around me started to fluff up better answers. Or according to him.
"Miss. Tell me your name."
He stopped me and asked me, when the session was over.
I was still ashamed at how he humiliated me, and found it strange he’d stop to ask my name out of the lot of people.
Was his plan to embarrass me even more serious than I thought?
I answered. He nodded. Gave me a slight smile. So fast I could not even register it.
"Enjoy your stay, Nadia."
And then he disappeared.
Just thinking of the first day we met, left me flustered.
I turned on the laptop, signed in and my inbox flooded with new mail.
The one that stood out was from him.
I smiled. How did he even get to see me when his office is on the other side of the building, I thought.
I shook my head, and loosened the button of my shirt. My chest felt as if it were to swell and burst.
I decided to reply to his email. For some reason, we kept our emails cryptic as there was a chance the IT department would stalk it.
"When do you want to see it again?" - send -
I tried to avoid a smile again. Turned a look at the people around me, and stared back at the screen.
"In ten minutes. Go to the bathroom. Go into the last cubical, lock the door. When you hear three knocks, open it."
Now? I almost fell from my chair.
The company had a unisex bathroom. So males and females could use it at the same time. It was new wave.
My mother wasn’t always happy with it.
Eventually, ten minutes passed, and I locked my laptop, rose from my seat, walked out the office door and stormed to the bathroom.
Nobody was there, how convenient.
I went into the last cubical. Locked the door and sat on the toilet waiting for him.
It felt like forever, until I eventually heard the bathroom door open.
Slow footsteps approached my cubical.
knock knock knock
It was him.
I opened the door, with a fear in me, that it might be somebody else.
He smiled and walked into the tight cubical.
Before I could answer, he shoved me against the wall of the cubical, held my arms above my head, dug his knee into the center of my thighs, and started to bite into corners of my neck.
I started to shake at the sensations I was feeling over this.
"Loosen up. Quit being so tense."
I tried to unwind, and felt his knee dig deeper into the center of my sex.
It hurt at start, but soon as he moved his knee into small circles, so I felt the sensations grow into a snowball of orgasmic pleasures.
I started to shake at the feeling he was giving me.
His teeth, digging, deeper into each and every pore of my neck sent shivers to my lips.
His knee, playing with the keystone of my being.
I was going to melt.
And melt I did.
I fell onto his shoulders.
He turned me around, my face banged against the cold tile wall.
I woke from the trance I was in, and felt his hardness press against my butt.
We were clothed, yet I felt everything of him. Everything.
"Sweater perfume tomorrow. Chanel. Chanel Chance. Clear?"
I never heard of that brand, but nodded.
I could hear him react to his climax and the very tremor from his chest injected into me.
He fell onto me, and bit my hair.
"God, you are the devil incarnate."
He whispered, turned me around to face him -
he now smacked my breasts.
I had no idea my nipples were swollen. It was the cold tiles of the wall causing it.
His smack caused me to shout out.
As I did, he shoved his palm over my mouth and slammed my head against the tiled wall.
he continued, with a pinch afterwards.
Oh god! He drove me wild.
I started to shake, and found myself biting his hand now.
So I did. My teeth sunk into his pale flesh.
And suddenly I tasted blood. It wasn’t my nipples.
It was his hand bleeding.
He didn’t release his hand. He kept it there.
I did, but the taste of his blood started to nauseate me.
Also, I didn’t want to hurt him.
I threw his hand out of my mouth.
I couldn’t take this anymore.
He obviously got hurt and stopped smacking me, grabbed back his hand, hauled out his linen handkerchief and wrapped his hand in it.
I shoved his hand away to wrap it myself.
"Don’t do that. Ever."
He gritted his teeth, pulled his hand back, and continued wrapping it alone.
"Why can’t I help you?"
"Don’t backchat me."
"Please? You’re doing it wrong."
I was persistent, I felt bad for what I did to him.
"Leave. Leave right now."
Before I could answer, he kicked open the door, got hold of my arm, and shoved me out the cubical.
I went flying right onto the bathroom basins.
My skirt still creased above my butt, and my nipples as hard as hell.
Nobody was in the bathroom, luckily.
I turned and straightened myself, and as I caught sight of him in the cubical, he slammed the door in my face.
"Leave and do your work. Now."
His voice echoed from behind the door.
"Are you okay?"
There was silence.
"Get. The. Fuck. Out. Now."
Whenever he cursed, I knew he was serious.
I turned around, straightened my hair, washed my hands, and walked out of the bathroom with my head dropped.
When I reached the office, my face was burning with shame.
I felt so embarrassed for what happened. The worst part was him chasing me away, as if I were a dog.
I found my seat, unlocked my laptop. Stared at the screen in total shock at what just happened in the bathroom.
I must have sat there for hours, doing absolutely nothing. I couldn’t even concentrate, as my breasts were throbbing and my thighs were hurt.
"Go to the store, purchase a navy blue Sherman handkerchief and drop it at my office, after lunch."
I smiled at the email. All humiliation gone.
He still liked me.
"Get onto your knees, now."
I knelt with my head down, ashamed of the disrespect I caused my Master earlier.
"Palms flat. Elbows on the floor. Chin on your chest. Now."
The floor was cold below my hands.
My elbows felt a grazing as the grizzly carpet scraped its delicate hairs.
My skirt crawled forward onto the small of my back, as my butt protruded to the ceiling.
Just as he wanted.
I prepared myself.
He yelled. And right after, a sharp, cutting spank followed.
"Tell me why you have been bad."
I didn’t know how to answer this.
Another spank followed. This time shooting me slightly forward as my chin bounced onto my chest.
"I’m sorry." I answered, struggling to keep myself calm.
"Do not apologize. Explain yourself."
"I had work to do!" I yelped.
" A deadline!" I screamed out.
The spanking became harder. And my flesh started to burn.
"Today! After work!" I yelled back, this time with a shiver in my throat.
I was clearly going to cry. It was so painful. My face was heating up.
"Date! I asked for date, not time of day!"
Oh god, I was going to fall flat onto my face. But I had to remain still. I had to remain positioned before I got more spanks.
"May twenty-seventh, two-thousand and fourteen, sir!"
A tear rolled from my eye now.
The spanking stopped abruptly. But the aftermath of it was like an inferno running through my veins.
I wiped my eyes on the sleeves of my arms to prevent him from seeing me.
Crying was not allowed.
I rose from the floor and turned around onto my knees as my butt was burning and just too sore to sit on.
"Sit on it."
He pointed his head to my butt. He knew darn well that I was in pain, and wanted to inflict more by having me sit on the hurt cheeks.
“Please. Can I kneel instead?”
I knew this was a mistake. Oh god.
"Back onto your knees. Chin down. Hands down. NOW!"
His voice turned from stern to evil.
My body went into auto pilot as I found myself in the same position I just crawled out of.
Before I lowered my chin, I felt the spanks return.
I was in tears, he could hear me. I was sobbing.
I was biting my lips so hard at the same time.
But it never stopped.
Each spank, harder than the next. Tearing through my pantie.
He finally stopped.
Thirty eight spanks later, he stopped.
My arms were shaking, I couldn’t hold myself up any longer, and I fell flat onto the cold floor.
I just wanted to die.
"Child, rise this instant."
I felt myself summon the last energy I had, and rose. I knew what would happen if I disrespected him again.
"Will you disobey me again?"
I wiped my eyes, as I kneed forward to him now.
I shook my head to his question.
"Answer me. With your voice. Not your pissy face."
My throat burnt.
"That is right. Now rise onto your feet and remove your pantie."
Not more. Please.
I did as he said and felt the wet pantie shave against my sensitive flesh.
It wasn’t torn. But it felt like it was.
"Walk over to that desk. Turn towards it, and lower yourself so I can have a clear view of your derrière.”
Fear crept into my lips and it started to shake. He knew it.
I turned around and walked over to the desk with a haste.
I wanted this done with. I wanted to leave as soon as possible. But he was clearly not done yet.
"So red. Like the brimstone of hell. Where you belong."
He whispered and I felt his hand touch my butt cheek softly.
I jerked as his finger touched me, the pain was unbearable. Like a cold knife tearing through my flesh.
"Be still, child."
I held onto the corners of the desk, and dropped my forehead onto the oak, waiting in anticipation for his next move.
I felt a finger slide between the cheeks, and lower down to the center of my sex.
Heat flooded my eyes. Oh god.
"So tight. Or are my hands swollen from your beatings?"
I didn’t know if I had to answer or what. But I nodded.
His finger suddenly plunged into my sex, and soon after I felt his lips and his tongue.
Kisses, all over my butt cheeks. Kisses on my sex. Kisses on my upper thighs.
"To hurt you is to please you, my pet. Remember that."
I felt my eyes tear up. Not with pleasure. Not with fear.
But with gratification, to the fraction of feelings my Master has shown to me right now.
He actually cares for me.
And me, I love him.
It was ten minutes before my lunchtime, and I had an important report to finish.
I knew he’d buzz me with an email on the exact minute of lunchtime, but I had the deadline. And that was the number one priority.
As I was typing away, the popup appeared:
Come to my office. Now.
I ignored it, and continued typing. It was an important report that needed review and conclusion by the end of the day.
Whatever he wanted, could at least wait?
He was the partner of the firm anyway, and by that, this did count for his firm’s favor.
Or so I thought.
Five minutes elapsed.
Come to my office. Now. Again.
I didn’t even read the second popup.
Before the tenth minute kicked in, I felt a heavy breath on the back of my neck.
I could see a dark figure form at the corner of my eye.
I was afraid, the blood rushed to my face and my fingers stopped typing.
I swallowed, rather difficulty as the silhouette became more demeaning than ever.
“Miss, have you not received any of my mail?”
I nodded my head, trying to avoid him.
Nobody was in the office at the time, but I was still scared that if I turned around somebody might catch us exchanging these intense moments.
“And you read it?”
I nodded again. This time closing my eyes as I felt the heat rise between my thighs.
"Then why did you not answer it?"
These were rhetorical questions. They needed no answers.
I opened my eyes, turned my head around to him, and pointed to the screen where the heading: Case 1034, Findings 2014.
"That isn’t my client, Miss. And that doesn’t excuse the disrespect."
I didn’t answer, as I knew he wasn’t done.
"Get up. Straighten your shirt. Flatten your hair. And head off to my office. Now."
He walked away right after the threat and didn’t even await my response.
I could see anger in his eyes. A familiar anger.
But before I could comprehend anything, a coworker came strolling by with a ham sandwich in hand, and smiled at me.
I now knew why he left so soon. He wanted to avoid witnesses.
The air was warm around me, and my butt felt as if it was covered in cement.
I turned over to the screen of my laptop, clicked save and logged off.
My hands got hold of my compact mirror that lay next to the keyboard, I tidied my hair with the one hand and the other dug my shirt neatly into my skirt.
I got up from my seat, slid my feet back into my leather shoes and walked off to my destiny that waited patiently for me in last office on the left.
We work at the same law firm.
Him the partner of it, and I, the law trainee.
He is a decade and a half older than me.
We are different heights and different languages apart.
Nobody knows what he is to me. Nobody is allowed to know either.
If they did, this would end badly.
I would get punished.
He is my Master.
And I, his pet.
I am not submissive in nature.
I’m pretty strong-willed, and hotheaded at times.
But that falls away the minute His mail comes through with my latest task.
I then fall onto my knees, and submit.
My name shall remain unknown, and I am a submissive.