The familiar buzz of a message stirs me from the catatonic pleasure of the warm water cascading over my shoulders. I shut off the shower, and still dripping, dry my hands and reach for my phone.
'Door, position, 10 minutes'
My stomach flips and my face breaks into the usual smirk.
10 minutes? Bugger, I've already used up 2 of those. I roughly dry my skin, pleased I'd used my expensive perfumed shower cream. Braiding my damp blonde hair quickly and applying moisturiser took just a minute or two more as I look at my shining eyes in the illuminated bathroom mirror. No need to strip I muse to myself wryly.
I rather ungainly skip down the carpeted staircase, setting my phone on the console, dimming the lights and positioning myself as requested. A position so familiar, yet my heart still beats fast. Sir likes to know my bpm in moments like this, to see how he impacts my very physiology. I check on my watch, 91bpm. He'll like that.
Knees bent, my legs tucked neatly under my bare bottom. Hands on my knees, painted dark red nails shiny, nipples hard and puckered. They always seem that way but tonight they're harder than ever. The wooden floor is cool and hard below my limbs.
A minute or so of quiet until I hear the familiar engine, it shuts off and I involuntarily hold my breath as I hear the unhurried footsteps approach, just inches from me. The door swings wide open, revealing me to the world. He know how deliciously uncomfortable this is for me; anyone could see my submission. The cool evening air rushes in and around me, I shiver but I don't move. Position I tell myself, position.
After what seems like forever sir steps in and closes the door, slowly. It clicks and I feel the twist of desire and heat spread from just above my smooth mound down and across, like a smouldering bonfire. I fidget a little, subconsciously conferring my state.
Sir walks away, and I'm left in the hallway alone. Position I remind myself.
