I stand in front of my workplace, an ugly yet once majestic and imposing example of brutalist architecture, now cruelly aged, cobweb cracks coruscating its concrete facade, fading rivulets of rust crying from ancient bolts.
I am idly playing with myself (nobody's around, this street is lucky to see a single car in an hour), one hand discreetly hidden beneath my jacket and slipped beneath my panties.
Across the street are crumbling rowhouses, blackened by flames, some roofs open to the sky. oddly, the fading flash of a discarded pink hippo, once a child's beloved toy, can be seen peeking from the broken window of an upper floor.
I see my Dom's car approaching and straighten up, adjusting my panties, and pulling my mini skirt down so he won't know how short I've been wearing it. I also hurriedly pop a breath mint into my mouth, hoping he won't notice.
He stops the car and I hop in. I am beginning to put my seat belt on but then utter a yelping cry of sudden shock, "Aiiii!", as his hand suddenly grasps my wrist firmly and yanks it roughly to his face, carefully sniffing my hand. I try to pull away but he gives me the warning look that means I'm fighting him and I'm more than aware of the consequences of that.
I relax, lowering my head and place my free hand into my lap and speak the required statement of contrition, "A good kitty does not resist Sir, she uses her words."
"Good girl," he responds, "But you've been a naughty girl today haven't you?"
My eyes narrow and I stiffen. "No," I mumble.
He uses a finger beneath my chin to lift my head until our eyes meet. "Do you want to repeat that?", he says, in a warning tone.
"No Sir," I whisper, "I'm sorry. I, um, touched myself at work, I, um, couldn't stop myself."
"Thank you for honestly kitty. is there anything else you'd like to add about what happened today?"
I squeak, an involuntary noise, and then, after a nervous gulping swallow, I say, "Yes Sir. I had fun with a guy in the break room."
"Fun?"
"Just a blowjob," I say.
"Oh kitty," he sighs, and tears hotly well from my wide eyes, stinging at his disappoint in me.
"I guess you know what that means," he states.
"yes Sir, I do."
"Then WHY did you do it?"
I sit for a moment, in a confusion of sadness, fear, and desperate physical need, then blurt, "I neeeeeeeeeeded iiiiiiiiiit!!!!!!!," in a whining keening wail that makes him stop the car.
I immediately know why. "No, please please, No please! Please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, I didn't! Please please please!!!!"
He turns to me and commands, "Legs up!"
Having no choice but to flee the car, and having done that once before I have no intention of doing it again (a bare bottom spanking in a public park is NOT fun), I comply, setting my feet on the dash, and stiffen to await my punishment.
