He made me do my job paperwork afterwards. I was bad at first, and didn't start my paperwork right away- hiding in the living room, so he dragged me into the back room where he was and had me sit on a high dining stool to do it. Eventually I got into the groove of it and nearly finished a stack of it.
In the middle of doing my paperwork, I made an offhand comment that I was horny. Without further ado, Sir came by and grabbed my paperwork. He had me get up and marched me to the end of the bed where he stripped all the clothes from me, flinging them haphazardly around the room. He set up our dining room stool on 4 bed-raisers. Watching him set that up was interesting. Not being sure exactly what he would do with it; getting excited about the predicament of it. He had me climb on top of it and lay face down. Because it was a stool, only my torso was actually on it, leaving him to chain my hands to the legs of the stool. He took the spreader bar out and chained my feet to it. It was very precarious - I wanted to squirm and move my legs, but I also didn't want to unbalance myself off the stool. He took out a variety of implements to use on me. He beat me with a length of rope, used our flogger, and used a new toy that the leader of our munch gave us for valentine's day. It's a smaller flogger with bead chain, but boy does it pack a wallop! It also feels nice being dragged across the skin. I was very into everything Sir was doing. Sir took me just like that, in that position. I have to say, I loved it! It was torture, because I wanted to squirm and move, and even move my legs more to make it more conducive to the positions we were in, but being chained with my arms and having the spreader bar there made it impossible! Sir was able to use that to his advantage and just torture me. He did have to grab hold of me and the stool to make sure I didn't get injured as I started to become less and less careful about my squirming.
Eventually, Sir released me from the chair and had me get onto our bed. He chained my wrists to my collar and kept the spreader bar in place, resuming fucking me. It was just... wonderful. Forceful, intense, sweaty and lovely. I couldn't move my hands to touch him, which I wanted to. I didn't have full use of my legs, as they were chained to the spreader bar. And I think Sir was really into it too - I have two HUGE hickeys on my neck - one is a good 3 inches long. We're not usually the leaving hickeys types, especially because of professionalism. I will wear some high collared shirts to work this week, and some fashionable scarves. But I actually love the feeling of receiving a hickey, so its hard for my brain to speak up and say 'Hey, we may regret this later".
If I cared less about professionalism and what people think I'd probably not regret it at all! But, we do need to make a living. . I do wonder what I would do if Sir decided to put one in a difficult to hide place... how I would deal with it. I'd have to of course. But would societal pressure outweigh my pleasure at making Sir happy? I'm not sure. Right now, I like looking at them, knowing they are there. I just don't want societal consequences. So, as long as its hide-able, I won't care!