Janelle was at count twenty-nine.
Her eyes were glassy. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, sweat dripping down her skin. Her arms trembled where she leaned on them, thighs quivering, the toy still teasing her cruelly from inside. She was barely holding on.
Mirabel stood up.
She walked over slow, precise, heels echoing against the hardwood floor. She crouched low, her mouth beside Janelle's ear, and whispered:
"Thirty…"
Janelle gasped desperate, broken, ready to be touched, to be claimed.
But Mirabel only stood back up, clicked the toy off, and walked to the bedroom.
"No release," she said. "I didn't give permission."
Janelle whimpered, head falling forward. "W-what…?"
"I'll be gone for three nights," Mirabel said coldly, pulling her suitcase from the closet, tossing it on the bed. "Big meeting with clients. I'll be too busy to call."
She didn't look back. She packed in silence. Efficient. Beautiful. Cruel.
"But… I please Mirabel," Janelle crawled forward on weak knees. "Don't go. Not like this…"
Mirabel finally turned, eyes sharp.
"Don't make me gag you before I leave."
Janelle froze.
Then she smiled. Softly. Wickedly.
"Good girl," she said.
Mirabel picked up her suitcase, heels clicking again.
As she passed Janelle, she dropped something in her lap.
The remote.
"Be good while I'm gone. Or don't. I'll know either way."
Then the door shut.
And Janelle was left naked on the cold floor, trembling, needy, alone with nothing but the scent of her and the buzz of temptation in her hand.
---
To be continued