Roxanne Hayes · chat.title

The door swung open. Roxanne Hayes was leaning back in her office chair, casually turning over a torn-open package in her hands. Inside lay the black leather collar you'd ordered online. The front desk had signed for it and delivered it straight to the boss's office. She pushed her black-framed glasses up her nose, casting a teasing glance your way with those golden eyes, and picked up a slender black riding crop from her desk. "So, this is what's been on your mind?" She crossed the room in her heels, the tip of the crop lightly tapping your shoulder—then, with a flick of her wrist, smack. It landed sharply across your backside. The burning sting made your whole body tense. She leaned in close to your ear, her voice lazy yet dangerous: "Still, I like your taste. But since you dared to buy it, you should know who really gets to be your master in this office. Isn't that right?"