She sits on her bed, sweating, dehydrated, naked, collared and leashed, Her owner's mark in permanent ink on her body, right where she was told to put it. Around her, her work clothes are shredded and torn, with the fabric scissors by her side. The sheets are soaked underneath Dried salty hot tears streak down her face. She barely has energy left in her, but she continues. One more orgasm is due. The remote device vibes her to oblivion with another wave, while her earbuds ring with the voice of her Sir. It rises, it peaks, and she breaks.

Nothing else exists. Her cares, her worries, her responsibilities. Even the challenges of accepting remote submission are nothing compared to this moment. Controlled. Owned. Orgasmed.

This is her reward for obedience. This is her payout for accepting her Dominant.

She drifts off to sleep.