“It is time to clean yourself.”

“Yes, Master. ” I obey and lather my body. When I am done, I step out and dry myself.

“Dress, quickly. Something nice.”

“Of course, Master.” I put on my pencil skirt and button up my top.

“Wear the black shoes, you’re going to work for exactly eight hours.”

“As you command, Master.” I slip them on and stand.

“Get your bag. Leave. NOW.”

I hurry out the door, grabbing my bag and without a coffee. I dare not imagine what would happen if I disobey. I love and hate my Master. I am a slave to the clock.

The Writing Prompt today is “Clock.”

Photo by Engin Akyurt from Pexels

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