The bathmat was still in the closet, forgotten in her haste to shower, to wash. Joyce carefully stepped to the towel rack, and dried herself off. Her ...ind wandered as she did, analyzing, her eyes wandering back to the blue anal plug in the sink. Joyce left the office at her usual time, nothing left undone, but her thoughts disordered. She walked to her car, slowly, distracted. Unfamiliar urges clouded her thinking, compulsions stirring, directing her now. She got in her car, drove, unaware of. Can you hear? There is a mark on your thigh. I put it there, didn’t I? Two days ago, with the cane you love and hate so much. It is here beside me. Do you want to feel its caress again? Well, perhaps you shall. It loves your flesh, loves to give you my mark. It marked your bum too, didn’t it? Three strokes were all I gave you but you sobbed and thanked me. Your face was streaked with little tears. I love your tears, I love your sobs. They are your gift to me, just as much as your mouth or your. More

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