He fell forward into a heap, sputtering and gasping as he struck the floor. She watched him slowly roll over, his naked chest rising and falling as he sucked hungrily at the charged air in the room. Her gaze continued to roam his form, falling momentarily between his legs. It was obvious that he had been on the verge of release, and he was still throbbing as he lay there.

“Good,” she thought to herself. “He’s ready, and so are we. Almost…”

She moved forward, slowly stepping over his prone body but not without dragging the toe of her shoe hard across his heaving chest, taking a moment to relish the sudden yelp the scrape elicited from her slave. She then continued on with a high-heeled swagger that bordered on obscene then strode over to the bureau and stood with her back to him.

An airline bottle of a popular brand of rum was all she had on hand; she hadn’t had time to purchase any of the really good stuff. This session had come about far too quickly. The man on the floor behind her wasn’t even the real reason she was here. He was serendipity incarnate, spur of the moment and a fully unexpected bonus. Even more-dare she even think the cliche pun-almost literally “right out of the blue.” But, still, he was one she couldn’t pass up; they needed to be fed-all of them, including her. And, at least she did have rum, so she was certain that Papa would understand. He always did.

She looked down and opened the aluminum attache that adorned the scuffed top of the bureau. Latching the lid upright, she proceeded to arrange the contents within, just as she had done countless times before. But even with her practiced ease, there was still an absolute reverence in the solemn task.

The sweet itch was all but ravaging her now, morphing into a luscious burn that couldn’t be quenched, and she knew it was only going to quicken.