While You Work

I want to be in your bed

when you come home,

waiting exactly where you expect me—

but I know that isn’t possible.

So give me something else.

Give me a day

when the world thinks you’re working

and I know better.

Tell me to strip.

Make me stand naked before you

until there is nowhere left to hide,

then tell me to crawl

to your bed.

Make me kneel there,

face down,

ass raised,

presenting myself to you

without hesitation.

Make me spread myself open.

Take your time with me.

Prepare me,

then slowly push the cold metal plug inside,

claiming the part of me

I’ve surrendered to you.

Remind me

that even there,

I am yours.

Then punish me.

Twenty strikes of your belt—

one after another—

for every time I teased you,

every time I made you ache,

every time I left your cock wanting

when I could have taken care of it.

And when you touch between my legs,

I want you to discover

just how badly my body has betrayed me.

Soaked.

Turned on by every strike,

every command,

every reminder that you’re in control.

Tease me for it.

Make me hear exactly

what you think of the fact

that punishment only makes me want you more.

Then take away my sight.

Blindfold me

and lay me back on your bed.

Spread my legs wide

and secure them there.

Cuff my wrists above me

until I can’t move,

can’t reach,

can’t close my thighs.

Nothing left for me to do

but surrender.

Spread-eagled.

Helpless.

Yours.

Put clamps on the places

that make me tremble,

making every nerve more sensitive

until even anticipation becomes torture.

Then give me the wand.

Press it exactly where you want it,

secure it against me,

choose the speed yourself

and leave me there

while you work.

Emails.

Meetings.

Phone calls.

Your normal day continuing

while your needy little plaything

lies restrained on your bed,

trying desperately not to squirm.

And whenever you want my mouth,

take it.

Let me tease you first—

my tongue against the tip,

my lips wrapped around you—

before you remind me

who is actually in control

and make me take you deeper

until I gag.

When you have a call,

silence me.

Tape over my mouth

and leave me there,

knowing that the moment the call ends

you can uncover me

and use my mouth again

whenever you decide you want it.

Every so often,

tighten the clamps.

Not because you have to.

Because you want to hear me react.

Because you want to remind me

that even while you're working,

you haven't forgotten

what belongs to you.

Touch me when you want.

Fuck me when you want.

Use my mouth,

my tits,

my pussy—

whatever part of me pleases you

whenever the mood strikes.

I want to become part of your workday.

Something waiting beside you.

Something you can touch,

tease,

control,

and use

without ever having to ask

whether I want it.

Because I already told you.

I do.

This isn’t simply something I want.

I need the surrender.

I need the helplessness.

I need those hours

of knowing there is nothing expected of me

except obedience.

I want to be completely,

unmistakably,

deliberately

owned by you.

And then

your computer closes.

Your last meeting ends.

Your workday is over.

But mine isn’t.

Because you’ve spent hours

teasing me,

denying me,

punishing me,

using me,

turning me into your desperate,

aching,

needy little whore.

And now there’s nothing left

to distract you from me.

So tell me—

after spending an entire day

finding out exactly how needy

you can make me…

are you willing to find out

just how needy I can get?

Just how much I can take?

Just how completely

I’m willing

to be yours?