“Doing alright down there?”
Oh no. Deliberately, gingerly, slowly — oh so slowly — I nodded my head yes, hoping that would be good enough.
Even through the dark canvas blindfold, I knew she could see me nodding. I knew she was looking down right at me. I had felt her calves splay out from next to my ears, and I could feel her taking me in, up and down, through the space between them.
But she knew what she was after.
“What was that, boy?”
I froze. There was a ever-so-slight tinge of malice in the smoothness of her voice. But even then, I swallowed my spit, hard, and started another nod. *Please*, I thought, being very, very careful to not try and mouth the word.
She wasn’t having it. Her hand snaked down under the desk and grabbed my hair, pulling my head back and baring my neck to her. I tried to keep my back perfectly straight, as ordered.
“That’s enough. You know the rules about answering. It’s been almost half an hour since I last took you out to use that wonderful little tongue of yours, my toy. You know I’m a stickler for safety, and I’m not going to be satisfied that you’re alright until I hear it directly from that very. same. tongue.”