She looked down at the body of the man who owned her ring now, noting how the blowing sand was slowly covering him, creating another small dune agains... his body. Within an hour, a person would be hard pressed to notice the difference between the dune that would cover his body and the ones that had been there for centuries.Kneeling next to his body, she lifted him gently into her arms, his long form looking huge against her small frame. A quick thought had them both disappearing into sparkling. He wondered just how many men she had had standing in a corner like him waiting for their punishment. The wait seemed endless. He could hear her typing away at the keyboard. He wanted to turn around and catch her attention but he knew that would bring further punishment. This was all part of the control play; the submissive waiting for the Mistress to exact punishment. This was the psychological torture part of the punishment. The physical pain would come later. The minutes passed slowly in. More

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