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hated being out of the shop, but I was the face of the company. Going to a few shows now and then helped us gain recognition. We could do less work and make more money. Restoration was a rich man’s game and I enjoyed collecting all those bills. However, not having Piper up close and personal was rough. While my pet didn’t know it, I followed the same rules she did. No masturbation. 

Not sinking myself deep and fucking her like a rag doll was difficult, but I wouldn’t go back to being that guy. My years of using and throwing women aside were done and over. Entering the D/s lifestyle brought about rules and structure. Respect. But sometimes, I really just wanted be a naughty motherfucker and I couldn’t resist it today. 

Send me a photo, pet. 

What kind of photo? 

I could picture Piper flushing from her toes to her nose. She knew exactly what kind of photo I wanted. Something naughty, dammit. Her panties. Her pussy. Her tits. I didn’t care. I needed to see her. I wanted to see all of her, but that would have to wait until I returned. 

You pick. Panties, pussy, tits. Surprise me, pet. 

Waiting was the difficult part. What would she choose? Would she follow through? 

I’ll reward you when I return if you send me something I like, pet. 

Camera flashes blinded me as the pack of reporters made their way over. I answered questions on auto-pilot. In the front of my mind, I pictured Piper finding a secluded place in the shop to take a naughty photo. I smiled, a model in a skimpy dress on each arm. 

“Hey, can you text me that photo? I’d like to share it on my social profiles.” I pointed at the car geek blogger with a cell phone. 

“Hell yeah, man. What number?” I rattled off the digits and moments later it popped up on my phone. 

“Thanks, I’ll make sure your credit is on the photo as well.” I shook his hand and the pack moved on to the next platform. 

Here’s a little something for social media, pet. 

I attached the photo and the credit details for the photo. People were breaking away for lunch and I followed the crowd, tucking my phone away. Every time it buzzed, I froze, wondering if it was Piper’s photo. I ignored it, though. 

Finally, when I got back to the hotel room, I pulled out my phone. I read and replied to text messages concerning work matters first, then went to Piper’s message. Seeing what she sent me about knocked my socks off. She’d gone beyond just a photo and sent me a little clip of her caressing herself from collarbone all the way down to between her legs. I played it again and again. 

That is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, my pet. 

I sent a photo of my torso, shirt open, just a peek of how my cock stood out against my pants. 

Do you see what you do to me? I’m all excited and you aren’t here to help me out of this predicament. You’re such a tease. 

Imagining Piper reading that and smirking made me smile. The day she came back to the shop, I knew all about it. I knew exactly what she would see when she returned. Hiding her phone had been the best idea because these days people hated being separated from them. Binding women who looked a little like her had stopped being enough a few weeks prior and it was time to up the game. 

I’m quite sure the tease is you. I’m the one that gets sent home after being tormented, remember? 

If you’re a good pet, maybe I’ll take care of a few of those needs when I get back. 

Yes, Sir. I’ll be a good pet. 

Moments after the last text, she sent me another photo, this time of her giving me that sexy pout that had attracted me to her in the first place. 

“Oh fuck, I’m so screwed.”

Mischa Eliot is an office superhero by day and smutty author by night bringing you the hottest reads.