I knelt on the floor, my nose touching the mirrored glass in front of me. He said I was a disappointment, so this was practise.

As I breath out slowly, through my nose my breath fogs up the window. I didn't want to disappoint him. I look myself in the eye as my fingers start to unfold one at a time, counting up from zero. The french manicure glints in the soft lights.

As I reach ten and start to fold my fingers back down again, I start to feel my heels digging into my arse cheeks, perhaps I should have got more comfortable.

Panic starts to rise in my stomach, but I push it down as I close all ten fingers and start to unfold them again. 9 inches of soft rubber filled my throat. It was awkward, my eyes are starting to well up just a little and breathing is really quite a feat.

I turn my hands over, gripping my thighs as I count another ten. I will get better. If not today, tomorrow. 40 seconds is a great start.

I pull off the rubber cock, my saliva hanging in strings and falling onto purple bodysuit I wore to work today. I will not disappoint him again.