...is what your notification panel reads. But you’re at work and this is my first day off in a while. Certainly, whatever I need you for can wait? You are in a public space, a meeting nonetheless! So you shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. You should put your phone on silent and place it screen down onto the table. Yet, here is your phone — silent, but its screen is facing the ceiling. To make sure nothing goes unnoticed. A few minutes pass and that message is the only thing on your screen, so you choose to finally engage in the conversation. But, almost as if I knew that you even opened up your mouth, your screen lights up with another message. This time, it reads “Please.... I need it to hurt... I need you to punish me, M...” The text can’t fit onto the small space of the notification panel, the bubble was too small. It itches, doesn’t it? What title did I use? Was it the correct one? But you can’t look now. You’ve already made a too long of a pause that the room has gone silent and people are giving you somewhat concerned glances. So you clear your throat and continue, choosing to ignore the last night’s movie playing at the back of your mind. My moans, the way I grabbed onto you, the way your hand rested around my throat, the way my back arched enough for you to slide your whole arm underneath me, the way my legs... “Only you can help...” came in and you simply shook your head and continued with explaining your point. But, of course you are the only one who can help. Only you know my body that well. Only you know my mind that well. Only you... Are allowed to even think to touch me like that...
The rest of the meeting is a haze, but you get through it. The number of messages stays the same, after all I’m no monster. You were able to concentrate on your work perfectly fine. More than fine. You were excellent. As always. Doesn’t matter that you were imagining me beside you, kneeling, your delicate fingers working themselves in and out of my mouth, my tongue wrapping itself around them so that you have to switch to your thumb and push down onto it, to make sure that it stays in place. Doesn’t matter that you could practically hear me moan and gag on your digits, my eyes rolling back with each little thrust... Doesn’t matter that you could hear me try to beg for more, but my voice comes out as a series of pathetic, little grunts and groans... Doesn’t matt-... The meeting is over. Time to go home...? Time to come to me?
You are quick to pack up, yet are held back by some unimportant small talk which makes your skin crawl. However, out of politeness, you stay a moment or two longer and agree to a cup of coffee that will never happen. Finally, you are able to open up those messages fully, read them in peace and... As you are about to exit, you happen to bump into someone. Annoyance is clear on your face and your brows furrow, but as you are about to cuss them out in corporate, a familiar voice utters an apology.
Without words being exchanged, you grab onto my hand and drag me away. Of course I was there. Of course I could see you. The walls are literally made out of glass. It makes sense, doesn’t it? A sharp turn snaps me out of my little smug bubble as we enter the bathroom and I’m practically shoved into a stall. Funny enough, I find myself on my knees, looking up at those midnight orbs and I can't help but smile sheepishly. “You said you needed me, bunny boy...? Hm? Where’s the confidence now, my sweet flower?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, yet sharp enough to echo like a crack of a whip through my mind. Your hand is quick to cup my chin though and pull me forward, eagerly awaiting my answer “Oh this will be a fun show... Only for me, right?”
[cishet men/maps/minors dni]
