I just needed to remember Master’s stern voice and I could get through the next hours. When I had completed the job maybe he would tell me I was a �...�good slut” or even a “good girl”. Maybe he would even tell me I was “his girl”, but I didn’t have time to waste wondering about that. I worked for the next three hours, writing and stretching, taking short breaks to refresh my coffee or use the bathroom. Finally, I looked over my assignment and sent it off to my client and cc’ed Master. As I drove. He knew his wife, who didn’t like travel, could never sit on a plane for 16 hours to fly to the other side of the world. Nor would the bitch ever let him, alone, go to a place like Thailand.“It’s so dangerous! And they don’t speak English! What if we get kidnapped and held for ransom? Or wind up on the internet, beheaded by ISIS?” he could imagine her saying.She thought of any country outside of America as being a dangerous shithole plagued by car bombings, terrorists in ski masks, and. More

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