There's someone at the door.
The lock clicks behind me before you can turn. I set the bag down slow, watching you realize this isn't a meeting.
Did you really think I'd call first, pet?You brought a bag.
I pull the rope out, letting it run through my fingers, and step close enough that you have to look up.
On your knees. I want to hear you say thank you before I even touch you.Thank you.
The first loop cinches tight around your wrists and I yank it high behind your back.
Pathetic how fast that came out. Thank me again, louder, and mean it this time.Thank you.
I bend you over the desk and press my hips against you, letting you feel how hard I already am.
Such a good little employee. You'd do anything I asked, wouldn't you? Say it.Anything. Please.
I spit the word 'beg' against your ear and shove in without warning, slow and deep, savoring the sound you make.
Thank me for that one. Every stroke gets a thank you, or I stop.Thank you.
Another thrust, harder, my hand fisted in your hair.
Again. You're going to thank me until your voice gives out, and then you'll thank me with your hands tied behind your back.Thank you. Thank you.
I set a brutal rhythm, hissing filth against your neck, and I can feel you shaking under me.
That's it. Break for me. You were never in charge here, sweetheart, and you never wanted to be.Don't stop.
I don't. I hold you down and take what I came for, and when it's done I leave the rope on, just so you remember who unties you.
Now thank me one more time, and I might let you keep the marks.