Being submissive is utterly satisfying to me. I happily put my trust in my Dom to make the right choices. It’s simultaneously freeing and comforting. Even when I’m at work, I feel butterflies in my belly take flight

the moment his name appears on my cell screen. Usually, we play outside of office hours, but sometimes we can’t resist getting frisky on the phone because it’s so much fun to set up a scene before either of us is actually free to meet in person.

For example, the other day I was sitting at my desk preparing for a meeting when my phone buzzed. My screen lit up with a little talk bubble from D — the name I assigned to my master in my contacts. Knowing he doesn’t like to be kept waiting, I opened the message right away.

“Take off your panties and send me a picture,” he wrote.

My cheeks heated as I considered the reality of going commando around my coworkers.

“I’ll go to the bathroom, and take care of that right away, Sir,” I responded.

The phone chimed again before I could tuck it into my skirt pocket.

“No. Take them off at your desk. Stand up your phone and take a video, so I can see where you are while you do it.”

I swallowed the lump that suddenly appeared in my throat. I had my own office, but the door was open. I had to work fast.

“Yes, Sir,” I typed out, hitting send as quickly as possible before I lost my nerve to obey him. Then I propped up my phone between my computer’s keyboard and monitor and started to record. Once I had myself in the frame, I cast my eyes downward, presenting myself the way my master prefers.

First, I stepped out of my shoes. Next, I reached beneath my skirt and hooked my fingers into the elastic waistband of my pantyhose. I quickly rolled the nylons down to my ankles, then I stepped out of the stretchy fabric and stowed it alongside my shoes.

Then it was time for the moment of truth. When D had called me the night before, he’d ordered I wear a specific pair of silken purple panties. I was excited to show him I’d followed his command.

I grabbed hold of the underwear’s lacy waistband and pulled it down my hips, allowing the garment to fall down my legs. Quickly, I stepped out of the leg holes and scooped up the evidence. I held the panties up to the camera for D to see, then I tucked them away, out of sight of any passersby.

Knowing D would want to see me tidy up as well, I bent down and took my pantyhose off the floor. Careful to stay in full view of the camera, I perched on the edge of my desk chair to slip the material over my feet. Then I stood and flipped up my skirt, giving D a glimpse of my shaved pussy before I pulled the pantyhose the rest of the way up.

The loud clang of the hallway door warned me I only had a few seconds before someone walked past my office. I tugged my skirt down my thighs and kicked my shoes under my desk, then I leaned in and cut off the video just in time for my manager to round the corner and peek in my office.

“Good morning, Beth,” she chirped before moving on.

“Good morning,” I replied, praying I didn’t sound as breathless as I felt.

It wouldn’t do to keep D waiting. The moment the woman was out of sight, I grabbed my phone, fired off a message and sent him the video clip.

A few minutes went by before my phone chimed again.

“Beautiful,” he wrote.

I smiled and snatched up my panties to shove them in my purse. Then I turned my attention to work, gamely attempting to keep my mind off of what D might have in store for me later.

After a long day of boring business tasks, I was thrilled to finally get to D’s apartment. My stress melted away as I walked down the hall toward his place, feeling a bit more buoyant with every step.

His door was unlocked as it always was when I arrived for one of our dates. I headed straight for the powder room where D likes me to shed my clothes. I took off everything but my heels, taking care to leave my clothing neatly folded on my designated shelf. But before I left the room, I grabbed the purple panties from my purse, knowing D would expect me to present them to him.

I walked to my spot in the far corner of the living room, then I faced the wall and sank to my knees, as was my routine.

D never wears shoes indoors, and I’ve taken to closing my eyes while I wait for him. It helps sharpened my senses, so I can hear when his bare feet pad across the floor toward me. Sometimes, he’ll make me wait, but that night he greeted me within seconds of my kneeling. He reached down and pushed my hair to the side as he said, “I see you’ve brought something for me.”

“Yes, Sir, my panties.”

With my eyes cast down, I could just barely make out D’s feet and calves in my peripheral vision.

“Very good,” he said. His words dripped with delicious praise, and I ate it up.

D scooped the panties out of my hand. Though I couldn’t see what he was doing, I heard him. A sharp intake of breath told me he’d lifted my underwear to his nose to take a whiff. I loved that we had that level of intimacy.

My mind conjured up all sorts of images of what D’s face might look like as he savored my scent. Liquid arousal pooled between my thighs. My pussy was already wet and wanting.

“I think I’ll tie you up tonight,” he said.

The suggestion made the pulse pounding between my legs pick up its pace. I love being restrained, and thinking about being bound sent a pleasant shiver of anticipation up my spine.

D extended his hand to me to help me up. A familiar jolt of excitement coursed through my veins, making me tremble like I did the first time I took his hand so many months ago.

I teetered on my heels as I struggled to find a steady footing. Being five-foot-nothing, even my four-inch pumps couldn’t bring me eye-to-eye with my master — as it should be.

D led me to his bedroom. His king-size four-poster bed looks perfectly innocent at first glance. But I knew the endless possibilities those corner poles represented. I’d been tied to all four, spread out like a starfish, and I’ve even been bound to just one, hugging the carved wooden column while D plowed me from behind.

But that night, he seemed to have something brand-new in mind. He took my panties and threaded a post through one leg hole, letting it slid down to the mattress. He pointed to the open space on the mattress directly in front of where my underwear landed.

“Lay down here and hold your wrists together over your head,” he said.

Ever the obedient sub, I kicked off my shoes and complied. I lay down on the diagonal, pointing my toes toward the center of the bed.

“Very good,” my master murmured.

He pulled my wrists through the other leg hole of my panties, then he wound the material around me again, treating it like a large, silky rubber band. Once my wrists were secure, he took a step back to survey his handiwork. I heard him hum to himself — a sign he was considering his next move — and I pictured him thoughtfully stroking his stubbly chin.

D walked to the head of the bed and into my line of sight. He was now gloriously naked. Two lengths of cotton rope sat atop the bedside table. He picked one up and tied it to a corner of the bed, then he took the free end and wound it around one of my ankles. After he knotted the rope tight enough for me to feel it, D grabbed the other piece and secured my second foot.

I was exactly where we both wanted me to be: at his mercy.

He settled his body atop mine and whispered, “Such a pretty pink pussy.

I can’t wait to fuck it.”

Those words were my only warning before D plunged his dick inside me. He buried himself to the hilt, sliding my body back and making my fists knock against the post. The way he rolled his hips made his pelvis rub against my clit with every thrust. He grabbed my hair and gave it a yank, and my pussy instantly gripped his dick.

This wasn’t a slow, leisurely fuck. D was pounding me hard and fast. His dick plunged in and out of me nonstop. I was drunk with lust and rapidly charging toward orgasm. When the first wave of pleasure washed over me, I shouted loudly, my cry sharp and shrill. That exclamation faded into a long, soft moan as excitement rattled me to my bones. I thrashed against his body, helpless to do anything but accept his cock and surrender to my climax.

As my pussy quivered around his dick, D began groaning loudly. He buried his face in my hair and jerked his hips erratically as he stabbed his cock into me. He grunted loudly, and I felt his cream splash inside me in hot, wet bursts of bliss as he came.

And that was only the start of our kinky date night.