HOW WE SERVE MASTER

Naked.

Except for black stilettos.

Black leather cuffs.

And a black leather dog collar.

On my hands and knees …

I wait.

Finally, I hear her coming.

She sits on the edge of the bed. Runs a hand up the inner side of my right leg.

Then between my legs.

“You’re lucky I don’t enforce moisture control,” she says, her voice light, amused.

“Thank you, Mistress Xiú,” I say.

I am soaking wet down there.

Mistress Xiú gets up. Moves over to the nightstand.

She puts something down on top of it and then opens the drawer.

I look over.

At the thing she put down.

The thing.

The horrifying thing.

I know right away it’s a butt plug. Although it doesn’t look exactly like one.

It has an end stopper like a butt plug, but instead of a tapering body, it is two nearly spherical bulbs on top of each other.

Black. Stiff rubber.

With multiple spikes over each bulb.

“Dear God, please don’t. Please. Please don’t. Mistress Xiú, for the love of God, please don’t.”

I hardly recognize my own voice. It’s so groveling, so desperately pleading.

For the first time since I entered the hotel suite with Mistress Xiú, I feel fear.

Out of the nightstand drawer, she takes the bottle of oil that we have been using.

So it is a butt plug.

I feel a cold sweat. A pitiful sob escapes me.

That thing is brutal. I can tell just by looking at it.

I begin to cry in earnest.

Mistress Xiú says …

“Don’t worry, slave. Your master is a friend of mine. I wouldn’t damage his property by destroying that asshole.”

And the butt plug didn’t destroy my ass. It just got awfully damn close.