When Carlene goes out for dinner with her Master, she has no idea how the evening will end. She doesn’t count on dropping dishes onto the floor of an upscale restaurant, and certainly doesn’t expect the delicious punishment to follow.
She'd become an expert at waiting. It was worse when she wasn’t restrained, like now. If she was gagged or tied to the St. Andrews’ Cross, she had no choice but to wait him out. But like this, her mind was her worst enemy. Her vivid imagination made up the most exquisite of scenarios and before she knew it, her hands would be itching to delve into her panties and seek out her own relief. That wasn’t allowed either. Her orgasms belonged to Master. So she cleared her mind, thought of her favorite sitcom, news article, or whatever came to mind. She’d even gone so far as to recite Shakespeare to fill her time while she waited. There was nothing orgasmic about Shakespeare.
She peered again into the mirror and confirmed that her makeup was refreshed and her lips were moist, red and ready for Master. She leaned back against counter and silently worked on a new plotline for her next novel. Her eyes returned to the door over and over. It didn't matter that she had no real control over who else needed to use the restroom, he’d given her a command and she was expected to follow it or face the consequences. Creating new plotlines usually helped to fill the empty time, but tonight it wasn’t working. She sagged against the wall and waited.
If her agent could see her now. Carlene Marshall, bestselling mystery author, waiting nervously in an upscale hotel bathroom for her Master to spank her ass.
It seemed like ages before she heard a knock on the door. She froze, staring at the door with concern as her mind worked feverishly for a reply. She leaned her head close to the door and thought of the first thing that came to mind. "Closed for cleaning."
"Not to me."
Her breath hitched in her throat. Even though the door was closed, she recognized the deep voice. She turned the lock and pulled the door open, holding it wide for his entry. He stepped through the portal, walking past her to stand in front of the sink. She closed and relocked the door.
She took a deep breath, ignoring the butterflies dancing erratically in the pit of her belly and turned to face him. Standing with his hands clasped behind his back, he gazed at her but said nothing for long minutes.
Carlene shifted nervously from one foot to the other. Speaking up to defend herself would only make things worse so she averted her eyes and prayed that he wasn’t really as angry as he had appeared. Sometimes he would just stand there, watching her get more and more uncomfortable as the silence lengthened, until he’d eventually say something to lighten the mood. Sometimes his punishment was swift and sure, and sometimes he made her mete out her own sentence. Tonight however, he was all business.
He gestured towards the marble counter surrounding the sink, right in front of the mirror. "Lean over and put both hands on the counter."