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I am running really, really late. That’s how I justify exceeding the speed limit, thinking that better to break a little law than to be late to work. When I see the lights behind me, I know that it is You, and feel my heart leap up into my throat, realizing how angry You are going to be. I pull into the parking lot of a deserted roadside bar, that has been closed for ages. I roll down my window, feeling my heart start to beat even faster as I hear Your boots crunch the gravel. A tear silently courses down my cheek as I stare at the steering wheel.

“Around back, slut. Now.” You say, and turn back to Your car. I follow Your cruiser around the back, making note that there is nothing and no one for miles but with the cars back here, we are truly alone. I waste no time, getting out of my car, and drop to my knees, head bent in submission. I know better than to make excuses for myself, and being late for work is no longer a high priority on my mind. The only thing I can think about is the fact that I’ve disappointed You.

You stand over me, staring down silently, until I can’t stand it any longer and look up at You. The slap is sharp, making my cheek sting with its force. Not enough to leave a mark, but definitely enough to get my attention, as if You didn’t have it already. “How dare you take chances with my property!” You hiss, and I begin to cry again, realizing I have indeed been foolish, and playing with what doesn’t belong to me. “I am sorry Master, Your slut had no right, she wasn’t thinking.” I say haltingly, shame coloring my cheeks. ...

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