Eric just asked me, "Is it taken care of?" after I hung up the phone, and left the office as soon as I assured him it was.

His driver brought me back home hours ago, and I've been sitting around since. It's dark out now, and I'm starving. All Eric had to eat was some crackers and a couple of cans of tuna, which I'm pretty sure were expired, since they were covered by a film of dust. But I ate one anyway, and so far they haven't made me sick.

The door finally opens at around midnight, and I rise up from the couch where I've been dozing for the past couple of hours, not able to fall asleep because nightmares kept intruding.

"You're still up?" Eric asks, depositing his briefcase on the floor by the door.

"You're not pleased?" I'm not even sure why I asked that. He doesn't sound disappointed, or angry, just very tired. There are dark blue bags under his eyes, which are very red. The clothes he's wearing are all wrinkled too, his loosened tie hanging crookedly across his chest.

He shrugs at my question and walks over to the sofa, sitting down next to me.

"I think you work too hard," I whisper, not sure where that's coming from either. "Do you always come home this late?"

Maybe it's just because I'm here, maybe he's avoiding me. But even as I think it, I know it isn't true. This apartment feels so unlived in. His office felt more like a home than this place.

"Well, aren't you just full of questions tonight," he says, turning to me, and running his thumb along the edge of the bathrobe I'm wearing, since I washed all my clothes this afternoon, and they’re still drying. His finger is barely making contact with my skin, but it feels like a jolt of lightning nonetheless.

He wants me to be his slave. The echoes of that word grow louder and louder in my mind as his hand reaches the belt of my robe. I actually whimper as he pulls on one end, untying it, causing the robe to fall open, revealing my nakedness.

My jaw still aches from the way he forced his cock down my throat in the elevator. I still feel some pain in my butt cheeks from last night's spanking, if I sit wrong. And I can't figure out why he wants to hurt me that way, I've been trying to all day, but not getting very far. Can't deny I enjoyed it all on some level, that it pleases me to please him. But…

I sigh as he cups my breast. He starts kneading the soft flesh gently, driving all other considerations from my mind. I want his touches, his kisses, his cock inside me, giving me orgasms I've never even imagined.

I moan as he rolls my nipple between his fingers. But the pleasure is short-lived. I yelp as he squeezes and twits it hard. A grin is spread wide across his face as he releases my breast, his hand travelling down my stomach now, inching closer to my tingling pussy.

"I want to give you a proper spanking," he says, causing my breath to hitch in my throat. "But I'm too tired tonight. Yet you deserve a reward for that excellent blow job you gave me earlier."

Getting a reward was the farthest from my mind. Until his fingertips find my clit, rub it in a small circle, making me wetter.

"Lean back," he instructs, spreading my legs wider as I obey, his fingers never leaving my clit.

He runs his free hand over my breasts again, squeezing the soft flesh as he pushes two fingers into my pussy, taking my breath away. My nipples are tingling in anticipation of his touch, my lips yearning for the feel of his.

He starts pumping his fingers into me faster and faster, hooking them to better reach my pleasure spot, and all those other wishes fade in my rapidly approaching orgasm, which I have no hope of holding back. His eyes are fixed on mine, showing me a multitude of emotions, from desire, to need, hunger, love. He pinches my nipple again, and the pain blends seamlessly with my orgasm his skilled fingers have coaxed from me. My moans are so loud they sound more like shrieks. He keeps working his fingers into me, causing another, wetter, hotter, more devastating orgasm to emerge from deep inside me.

I can't breathe, can't see, my whole body trembling, consumed by the intense pleasure he gave me.

He's just rubbing my clit gently now, his other hand running up and down my inner thigh, my tummy. The sharp pangs of pleasure are fading slowly, but my eyes won't stay open. If this is my reward I'll take it. I'll take it as often as he gives it, a thousand times, a million.