She digs deep down into the darkness — and lets herself go.

Her name is not her name anymore. The letters on her work ID that rests between her tits make no semblance of sense.

The woman that looks back at her from where she sits on the edges of a bed is wild. Unkempt. 

Raven hair frames her face with curls. Her dark eyes are huge but…unrecognizable.

Yet she feels the touch of the woman..pulling aside the unbuttoned blouse, unclasping her bra. 

Peeling away her black slacks to reveal soaked black lace underwear.

She vaguely recalls something…something about being home from work, getting undressed, but it feels like a memory.

A lifetime ago.

Instead…she watches the unnamed woman reach for the bedside drawer to her left. 

Watches her rummage around inside, pull out a thick, purple vibe.

The hand that rolls her nipples between its fingers is not her husband’s.

The voice that tells her to take off her panties right fucking now is not her husband’s voice.

He’s downstairs doing the dishes. She can hear him humming to himself.

While she’s up in their bedroom.

‘Who do you belong to?’

It makes no sense to think the voice in her ear is impossible but it is. It’s deep. With an edge but also somehow a softness.

The answer comes to her but she struggles to make it real. To give her voice to it. It’s there, it’s so fucking close, but it takes her a few tries to get it out of her dry lips.

‘Y-y….Y-you, Sir.’

‘So why do you deny me? Why do you deny what you are….my whore…’

‘I..I don’t..’

‘On your knees.’

The bed makes her wobble but she’s on her knees now, facing the mirror across from her. 

Once upon a time she didn’t like her tits, their size, their shape, the way they came to rest out of a bra. Now she feels a smile touch her lips as she looks back at the naked woman tracing the purple toy along her slit. She’s goddam gorgeous.

‘You don’t want to be my whore?’

The voice comes from behind her. 

Breath hot on her neck. She’d sell her soul to feel his hard cock against her ass. She’d do anything…

‘I do – no, I do.’

The desperation stains her voice and words.

‘Then SAY IT. Say it, you fucking bitch.’

The words cut through the air and mark her bare back, clawing down to her ass.

At the tail end of the sentence the toy leans into her clit, buzzing hard. 

She stifles her cry.

He doesn’t need to hear.

Is it he doesn’t need to hear or he doesn’t get to hear?

Or both? This is for her Master.

Her mind is running away with her thoughts. She lets it go.

‘I am…I want to be…your whore.’

‘Louder.’

‘I am your whore, I am! I am!’

She’s whimpering in hushed tones.

‘Slip that toy inside yourself and tell me who you belong to.’

Her body jolts, her legs tremble, as the toy spreads her lips apart and slides right in. 

Her breath lodges in her throat. She has to remember to breathe.

‘I belong to you.’

To be continued…