He’s been my friend, my dear dear friend, and a kind face at the worst time of my life, a firm but honest representative of my former husband. Now he masters me. The scene suddenly feels terribly intimate in ways we’ve never managed between us. The eroticism that arises in the midst of this amazes me. He squats beside my bent torso so he can look me in the eye.
“Got yourself in quite a predicament here, haven’t you?”
“I have, sir.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t call me, sir, Anna. I’m not your master.”
This disheartens me.
“You’re here because you need this, because you’re a miserably selfish woman that needs to be punished. I am angry with you beyond words. And I should dismiss you altogether, but our past precludes that. You will, however, take what I give you in the deep measure I bel
