There was a mobile phone number under his name on the printed card. Directions to contact your ‘slave’ to finalise details. She stood motionless, pondering it for a moment, silently gazing at the number. A thought began to form in her head, slowly and surely and building into a very stupid idea.
Had it been almost a week? Surely, he wouldn’t still be mad, right?
Despite Muffins large knowing eyes. watching her in dry speculation, she knew if she hesitated that she would lose courage, so immediately grabbed her phone. Punching in the message and number and hitting send as soon as earthly possible, in case she changed her mind. Once she did her common sense kicked in fully and forcefully and regret washed over her. She looked at the sent text ‘I believe I have slave services to recoup!’ It
