I can't shake the eerie feeling that someone is watching me. The small hairs down my spine stand at attention, as the apprehension in the pit of my stomach blossoms into something I can no longer ignore. Hastily, I scan the crowded bar studying faces, hoping to see someone familiar. The attempt falls short, and I recognize no one. Turning around and focusing my attention on the table of friends, I make every effort to disregard the direct gaze effect that is fooling my brain, and try to carry on with my night.
It had been months since we all had the time to get together and go out, so when the opportunity arose, I couldn't deny. Even if I didn't get permission from master. He was out of town for work.
Let me explain before it sounds completely awful. I attempted to call, and it went straight to voicemail. He ignored my "Hey" text, and I never got an answer to the absurd and totally uncalled for email. The way I see it, and it's logical. No answer means yes. I covered all of my bases, it doesn't seem like my fault that he couldn't reply.
Abbey flags down a waitress to order another round of drinks. I'm only three drinks in and decide on one more. After the long week I had, the buoyant, relaxed feeling the vodka cranberries are providing is more than welcomed.
It has been five days since Master left town for work. He left strict orders that I wasn't to make myself cum while he was away. Two days in and I was convinced he was trying to expunge me. He was a photographer with a good eye for sensual details behind the camera and in everyday life. I think he can owe his success in breaking down my walls to that. Anytime I try to outsmart him, he is one step ahead. Knowing the intricate parts of me that no one else took the time to learn. My wants and needs. Quirks, likes, and dislikes. Strengths and weaknesses.
My biggest weakness? Photos he captures of us.
Of Me.
My amazement never falls short when I see his work. He can take the dirtiest things and make them beautiful and intimate.
Captivating.
For every day that he's been gone I've received a link to a new file filled with photos of us from his perspective. It's always the strangest thing seeing myself as he sees me. What he was mesmerized by in a certain moment.
"We should go dancing after this." Ashley suggests. The only place she needed to go was home and to bed. She was already past her limit, and needed to call it quits. However, she was going through some things so who was I to judge? Dancing didn't sound all that bad after all.
We guzzle down the last round of drinks, pay for our tabs, and then decide to wait outside for our ride-share.
A chill slithers it's way through me again. The feeling is back.
This time I KNOW someone is watching me.
Again, I look all around us, the sidewalk is crowded. Two girls laugh as they take selfies in line waiting to get into the bar, someone coughs in the distance and I soon smell the smoke of a cigarette as the wind carries. I also catch a whiff of something familiar.
Someone to be exact.
Master.
He always smells so good. Never bathing himself in his cologne. Using just enough that it mixes with his scent and creates something dangerous to all women near and far. They flock towards him as if he's the only man to exist. It doesn't help that he always carries himself with an air of self-confidence and dominance. He radiates it. One conversation and you are wound so tight, you'd be willing to do anything he demanded.
Let's not say "Anything". Anything could be a dangerous term. I made the mistake of claiming I'd do anything one time. He dug up limits I didn't even know existed, and I learned a valuable lesson on never saying "I'd do anything" again. I can't deny that it wasn't thrilling. As everything new with him is.
I fail to seek him out amongst the bystanders. Besides, the idea was preposterous. He is in another state, and isn't due home until tomorrow night.
"It says the ride- share is still ten minutes out, we should've waited inside." Abbey complains.
"I agree." Ashley slurs, "We could always go back in for another drink." She smiles. Her flushed cheeks lifting to her eyes.
My phone buzzes with an alert. I squint to see the screen, my vision a bit blurred from the liquor.
My stomach leaps into my chest with excitement when I see who the message is from.
I open the text and I'm met with a picture of myself from tonight. Everything and everyone around me is blurred out, and my head is thrown back in genuine laughter.
I knew I felt someone watching.
He was here.
A text follows. And I can instantly feel myself sobering up and getting aroused by his tantalizing words.
Imagine coming home early, ready to taste something that's been on your mind all week. Craving it so much that it consumes your every thought. Making it hard to focus, think, speak. It's just been there like a splinter. And you think you are finally going to get what you've been craving... Grow PAINfully hard at the idea... only to find that it's been ripped away. She's nowhere to be found.
Before the Apprehension settles in another picture comes through.
My bed is the focal point illuminated by a red light. Ropes, various toys, and his favorite cane litter the space of the bed.
I'm seeing red Little Bird, and I am NOT happy. Say goodnight to your friends, they showed you a lovely time. I've sent a car for you. I'm going to make sure your night is as perfect as you planned.
My eyes now widen at the screen. I'd never be truly afraid of him in a fear sense, he'd never harm me in a way I couldn't handle or do anything that could be permanently damaging. A frisson of excitement festers in the pit of my stomach.
I make quick work of explaining my situation, leaving out obvious details. They know about my relationship dynamic, but not the full extent of it. We say our goodbyes and go our separate ways.