The next morning, after a night of restful slumber, Emily was roused by a knock at the door. She was alone on the bed, and heard her Master opening the door to the room service attendant, evidently bringing coffee and juice. The aroma filled the room quickly, and she realized how hungry she was. Emily sat up in the bed and looked at her Master and smiled. He grinned a little, but that was the extent of His emotion. He seemed to be very distant. She didn't realize that was His intention. He stood and glared at her, and then cocked an eyebrow at her. Finally, she realized that she was to serve Him His coffee. Naked, she jumped from the bed and rushed over to pour His coffee. He looked into her eyes with so much intensity, she had to avert them.
"Better, but it best not happen again..." He stated to her sternly. His words stung her a little, and she felt a flush go through her. So, the day had begun.
"Use the bathroom and prepare yourself to shower My slut." He said over His coffee cup, "And leave the door open."
Emily paused for a moment, and then replied, "Yes Master".
She did as she was told and went into the bathroom to relieve herself. As she sat there, she thought about the act of insisting the door remain open. She knew that it used to emphasize the psychological state of vulnerability. She finished and returned to her Master. When she reached Him, she proceeded to kneel in front of Him. He stopped her and instructed to return to the bathroom. She was going to shower. Master turned on the water and the steam from the warm water began to fill the glass enclosed stall. Emily stood with her head slightly bowed and her eyes lowered. When He opened the door and motioned her to step inside, He undressed Himself as well. Emily stood under the stream of water and soaked her hair.
The water felt delicious on her skin. Emily felt and heard the click of handcuffs on first one wrist, and then quickly the other. She opened her eyes and looked at Master, more than a little shocked. He had restrained her, but never with handcuffs, and not in the shower. There was a length of chain between the two wrist cuffs, which Master pulled towards Him, clasped in one of His large powerful hands.
"Today you belong to me pet, remember? I expect that you will obedient and please me well..." he said in a direct voice, only a few inches from her face. Although it was not in the gentlest tone, there was still smoothness to His voice. Master had trained Emily quite well, and she knew that He was very serious, but that she should relinquish control to Him. The training had provided a means to trust Him as well, and Emily had the feeling that she would need to remember that, today of all days. He slipped the chain over the spout of the shower head, thus causing her arms to be suspended semi-over her head. For a few minutes, he acted as though she weren't even there. He washed his hair and body, enjoying the stream of pulsing water. Emily stood there and watched him, helplessly. She wanted to touch Him very badly.
When he finished, He turned His attention to her. He stood very closely to her, but did not touch her. He didn't even touch His body to her. She wanted very badly to touch Him, kiss Him; have contact with Him in some way shape or form. He resisted. Instead, he stood very closely to her, His mouth mere inches from her ear. She could feel His warm breath on her neck, and it made her skin tingle. Being in her "personal space" was a ploy to remind her of His control over her, and reiterate just how helpless she was under it. He nipped at her ear with His teeth. She wanted so badly to feel His mouth on hers. He looked at her body, scrutinizing the areas where she had marks the night before from their time at the "club", but found that they did not remain. He was pleased. He caressed the outer curve of her breast with the backs of His fingers. She closed her eyes, relishing in their warmth, wanting him to do more.
"You want for me to touch you badly don't you my little slut?" He said against her ear. Her chest heaved deeply and quickly, but she did not reply. He pinched her nipple smartly and she jumped.
"Yes Master!" She replied quickly. He chuckled, "Good girl."
Master picked up a shower sponge and squeezed a generous amount of liquid soap over it. He worked up lather and began to soap Emily's body. His hands glided over her slowly but gently, the lather providing a slick barrier. He made it a point to spend extra time on her breasts, particularly because of the look on her face when his hands touched her there. He smiled when she whimpered slightly. He hadn't touched her between her legs. He told her to spread her feet apart. She obeyed. As His hands trailed slowly over her curves, her body writhed under His touch, trying to take in as much as she possibly could. The back of His fingers brushed over her mound gently. She gasped and closed her eyes. She knew better than move; she was afraid that even the slightest unsolicited move would cause Him to stop, and she didn't think she could bear it. He rubbed the sponge over the neatly trimmed hair there, and her body trembled. He set the sponge aside and replaced it with His fingers. He stroked her gently at first, then a little rougher.
She longed to move with His fingers, squeeze her thighs together, anything, something; to let her body follow its innate instinct to seek release. She knew better. She didn't care what Master did to her, but she was truly He would stop as a form of punishment, and that she knew she could not bear. His fingers passed over her clit, once and only once, and she wanted to scream. His fingers were so warm and invading over her delicate area, and she couldn't' get enough. He slid two fingers between her nether lips, being careful not to directly stimulate her throbbing clit. Instead, he rubbed them on either side, stroking, up and down, over the hot wet folds. She thought her knees would buckle, but the defiance in her would not allow her to move. She stood exactly as Master had instructed her to.
He watched her, and continued stroking her. His strokes quickened, and she struggled to retain her composure. He felt it. Then, He paused, letting His fingers rest for a moment, feeling her body throb against them. He pressed a little and then slid His finger inside her. Her body gripped His finger, tightening, holding Him there, defiantly. He withdrew His finger from her and she cried out in frustration. He laughed in response. He could see her chest rise and fall deeply. Instead of continuing, he began to wash her hair.
Emily was extremely frustrated. She wanted him to take her, do whatever He wanted to her, and instead He was toying with her, making her anticipate what He would do next. He rinsed her hair and turned her around, so her back was facing Him. He picked up the sponge and squeezed a generous amount of soap down the center of her back, sliding down to the crack of her ass. In response, thrust her hips back towards Him, instinctively, in attempt to coax Him to touch her. He did indeed. He began to stroke her clit and warm folds from behind, until he drew a deep groan from her. He slid His fingers backwards, to her tight waiting ass, and stroked it, pressing, in circles. She growled. She was like a marionette, arms suspended above her head, fists wrapped around the water spout, legs spread wide. Her body jumped and twitched to the slightest touch His fingers converged on it. He stopped once again, and slapped her ass soundly. He then reached around her and turned off the water.
Master stepped out of the stall first, and grabbed a towel. He lifted the chain from the water spout and let her arms, still cuffed, fall to her sides. He held out His hand to Emily, she took it and stepped from the stall, shaking. Her entire body was trembling. He dried her off quickly, and grabbed another towel.
"Dry me bitch," He barked at her. She caught the towel as He tossed it to her, and began drying Him. His shoulders, back, arms, chest, hips, and so on, she dried carefully and delicately. He knew full well that she was so incredibly frustrated and aroused; He enjoyed her not-so-subtle attempts to entice Him as well. She deliberately did not touch His erection; but wanted to save it until last. She had just finished drying his legs, and was still on her knees in front of Him. He leaned back, against the counter, and said, "you're not finished yet bitch, I said DRY ME!"
Emily lifted her eyes slowly and looked into His, albeit briefly. He smirked when she lowered her eyes again; He knew she was going to try and tease Him as well. She began to lick the water from His rigid cock. A single drop hung suspended from the engorged head, and she set the tip of her hot tongue gently under it, letting it absorb to it. When His sensitive cock felt the soft heat of her tongue against it, it pulsed in response. He suppressed a deep groan that threatened to emit from Him and watched her as she continued. Expertly determined, her tongue caressed His aching cock with long deep strokes. Underneath, from the base to the tip, then back again, along the top; licking, sucking; savoring the taste and heat of His flesh. Try as He may to conceal His desire for her, the throbbing and pulsing of His cock betrayed Him, and she knew it. She placed her mouth at the tip once again where a new drop was suspended, but this time it was not water. She paused a moment with her lips holding the tip captive and she drank him in deeply.
The taste of Him was a tease to her tongue and her mouth wanted more. She placed her tongue tightly against the cleft at the underside of the head and pressed. He said nothing, but she saw Him grip the edge of the counter tighter. Slowly, very slowly, she began to "swallow" him. She would press her tongue against the underside as her lips slid a little further down His shaft. A little tongue, a little lip, slowly, inch by delicious inch she slid onto His cock. She took Him in as deeply as she could, and wrapped her hand tightly at the base and squeezed. She began to stroke the underside of His throbbing cock with her tongue in slow but steady waves. Her lips were wrapped tightly around Him, holding him there, sucking. He was breathing rapidly, and she wanted Him to cum. She began to stroke His perineum with her fingertips, feeling Him pulse even further. The waves of her tongue grew more rapid. She slid her hand back further, so the heel of her hand rested there, thus giving her fingers reign to stroke His ass. She stroked him, pressing in deep circles. He felt as though he would come unglued. Her strokes grew faster and faster, beckoning His release. When He felt it rising, and much to His chagrin, He pushed her off of Him. She fell back slightly, startled, and he stroked himself in place of her. When He ejaculated, it was on her chin, chest, and breasts; not in her mouth. He groaned and leaned over slightly when it was finished, and smiled at her. She was still shocked and confused.
"Don't wipe that off my little slut, I want it to dry on you." He said as he cleaned up slightly and tossed aside the towel. "Now go sit on the bed and wait for me."
She rose and did as she was told. She sat on the edge of the bed and He stepped into the bedroom a few minutes later, wearing His underwear. He looked at her and grinned and told her to lie back on the bed and spread her legs. Again, she did as she was told. She wasn't sure what to expect. He approached the bed carrying a couple of things that she couldn't distinguish, and stopped at the foot of the bed looking down at her. He set the things he was carrying down on the floor and leaned over her. He bent deep and all in one motion wrapped His mouth around her parted nether lips and licked deep; and sucked her for a moment. She groaned deeply.
