The Master's study is his sanctuary, a place of order and quiet power. Tonight, I was tasked with dusting his desk, a chore I perform with meticulous care. My duster brushed against the worn leather of his chair, and I was struck by the memory of last week, when he laid me across that very surface. My naked ass pressed against the cool wood as he bent me over, his strong hands spreading my cheeks. He didn't just fuck my pussy; he took my ass with a possessive grunt, each thrust a reminder of his complete dominance. The pain was a sharp, exquisite fire that melted into a deep, fulfilling pleasure. I came silently around his cock, my cunt dripping onto the paperwork below. To have a king's ransom of documents stained with my arousal is a humiliation my former self would have raged at. My current self only craves a repeat performance.