‘Mine.’ He says, putting his hand on her bare ass. He loves this. The coolness of her skin under his palms, this feeling of warmth radiating in his chest at this simple act. He loves the sight of her before him, completely at ease existing in her primalness (was that a word? He didn’t care.) and in her element.

Working from home on her laptop beside him, laying outstretched on her tum, wearing nothing but her collar, she smiles to herself and squirms on the spot at the heat from his palms on her. She’s got time to be before the zoom meeting, time before she needs to slip on the bare minimum.

To be more human than animal.

She savors this time, the quietness. The faint sounds of traffic far off in the distance. The chorus of birds heralding the morning. The rich and stomach-tickling scent of coffee. The feeling of being naked against the sheets. That He might steal glances at her ass as he works beside her.

But his hand on her ass, the heat from his palms….

She cannot focus.

She’s mid sentence into a new email when she catches herself — grinding into the bed, dragging herself into a delicious rhythm, raising her ass in the air and letting her nipples trail across the bed. Harden across the fresh silk sheets.

His hand stays on her ass — Grips her, actually — and squeezes.

‘This ass belongs to me…’ He says, deep voice cutting through the air and sending chills rippling across her shoulders and down her back. ‘I don’t recall letting you grind.’

She feels his hands trace down her thigh, squirms into the bed as she feels him lightly brush against her slit from behind. How does she look from behind, she wonders. How does her pussy look from between her thighs?

‘Tell me. . . who do you belong to, kitten?’

‘You, Sir.’

‘And this ass of yours?’

‘This ass belongs to you, Sir…’ She giggles into the sheets. Saying it out loud makes her cheek burn every time.

Every fucking time.

‘How long till that meeting?’

She can’t stop the grind, can’t stop torturing her own nipples. Can’t grasp the fact they scream for her clothes pegs. For pain. Brutalization.

‘15 minutes, Sir…’

‘Good. Keep grinding till then for me. If you come, all the better. I might just reward you by claiming your ass by coming over you. If not? You’ll have to wait till the end of the day.’

The whine that comes to her is most unlike her. It’s guttural. Feral. It shocks her. Catches her off guard. Where did that come from? She clears her throat.

‘Sir?!’

‘Time’s a-wasting, pet. Get grinding for me…and for yourself..’