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I was utterly vulnerable and yet completely safe; humiliatingly exposed and yet cared for, even cherished.I wanted to stay in that moment forever, Sir: completely open to You, seeing myself only as You saw me in Your compelling and yet compassionate gaze. And I think You must have sensed this, Sir, because we remained like that for quite some time, drinking each other in.But of course the moment couldn’t last forever. I was mindless with arousal, and I began to babble, “Please, Sir… Oh god, please, Sir…” But You walked around to stand beside me and, putting Your forefinger to Your mouth, hushed me: “Shhh.”Then You plucked my panties from the bedpost and stuffed them into my mouth.In an instant I was right back here in this office, the picture you had taken of me earlier - tied to my desk with my panties in my mouth - filling my mind. I groaned with arousal and my hips began to buck of their own accord, so desperate was I for release.But I was helpless. Voiceless. Yours.Sir,. Strang was standing just inside his door, all bundled up, when Joyce arrived. ‘What is it? Are you not feeling well. Palpitations? A tightness in your chest?’ Mr. Strang was prone to believing he had any disease he heard of. But as far as Joyce could tell he was as healthy as a man twenty-five years younger. But, then, a sixty-year-old man could have a good reason to suddenly need to go to the emergency room. ‘Need a ham. A pretty big one.’ ‘You need a ham?’ ‘Yep. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s Christmas Eve.’ ‘Yes, I’m aware of that, Mr. S. And being as how it’s Christmas Eve—9:00 o’clock Christmas Eve now—I’m afraid we aren’t going to find a grocery store open.’ ‘How do ya know that?’ Mr. Strang was giving Joyce a highly suspicious look. ‘Maybe you just don’t want to make the effort to help me find a Christmas ham.’ As well as being a slight hypochondriac, Mr. Strang was not particularly trusting or diplomatic. Joyce had broken through his cantankerous shell a long time ago,.
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