Free Brokered Submission by Claire Thompson Page B

along with the sub into a kind of altered state, and the experience is truly breathtaking.”
    “It sounds amazing,” Zoë said, a surge of longing moving through her.
    “It is,” Dylan replied softly. “And you shall have it.” He released the hairclip and tugged at the elastic, pulling her hair gently free of its ponytail. He shifted his focus to her shoulders, massaging away the last vestiges of tension she didn’t know she was still carrying. “I promise.”
    She must have fallen asleep, because when she opened her eyes, Dylan was still there, but a tray with a glass and a plate of cookies had magically appeared beside her. Dylan smiled at her. “You dozed off. I decided to get you some refreshment.”
    He lifted the glass from the tray. “I know you take your hot coffee black, and I also know you like your caffeine,” he grinned, “but I want you properly hydrated for the rest of the day’s events, so I decided to make you a nice big glass of iced coffee instead. I added a little sugar and a touch of cream. If you don’t like it, I’ll get you some water.” He handed her the glass.
    Zoë lifted herself to a sitting position as she eyed the cold drink skeptically. She was thirsty, and she reached for the glass. “Thank you.” She never took sugar in her coffee, not because she didn’t like it, but because of a lifetime of watching her weight and denying herself anything that might add unnecessary calories to her diet. And milk just plain made her gag. She avoided it at all costs. But Dylan was watching her expectantly, clearly pleased with himself, and she had to admit she quite enjoyed the novel experience of having someone wait on her.
    Closing her eyes, prepared to find the coffee nauseatingly sweet and disgustingly milky, she sipped. She sipped again, and then took a big gulp. The coffee was strong, lightly sweetened, and stunningly delicious, the cream taking off that slight bitter edge that coffee always left on the back of her tongue. “That’s good...Sir,” she enthused, suddenly aware she’d forgotten to use the appellation during the flogging.
    “Glad you like it. Have a cookie.” Dylan reached for the plate and handed her a fat golden-brown cookie dusted with powdered sugar. Though she’d eaten a much larger breakfast than she was accustomed to only a while before, her mouth watered in eager anticipation.
    Carbs, sugar, fat—cookies never featured in Zoë’s regime, but neither did spending the weekend in a BDSM dungeon, so what the hell, why not? It smelled wonderful—the aromas of ginger, butter and molasses taking her back to childhood. Zoë bit into the soft, chewy cookie. “Mmm,” she moaned, her mouth still full of cookie. “This is so good.” It had to be homemade. “Did you bake this?” She couldn’t stop eating it.
    “Me?” Dylan shook his head with a laugh. “I wish I could take the credit, but no, my housekeeper, Adrianna, made them. She’s always trying to fatten me up. When she leaves for the weekend, she’s prepared enough meals, cookies and cakes to feed an army. I usually end up taking most of the treats to work just to get them out of the house.”
    Zoë finished the cookie and greedily gobbled the second one as well, surreptitiously eying the plate to see if somehow she’d missed a third one. She resisted the urge to press the few remaining crumbs on the plate with her finger, and instead finished the delicious iced coffee.
    Dylan stood and took the empty glass from her. He placed it on the tray beside the plate, and set the tray on the floor against the wall. Looking down at Zoë, he said, “Okay, break is over. Time for the next exercise. Do you need to use the bathroom?”
    As soon as he said it, she realized she had to pee, and she nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
    “Do you need to move your bowels?”
    Zoë was embarrassed by such a direct and personal question. “Um, no...Sir. I just, uh, need to pee.” She started to rise to head for the bathroom, but