"Angel on her knees"
Angela, my sister in submission, was coming over for the weekend. She and Master had been working together for nearly two months during which time I had not seen or heard from her. Master wanted to work with her without distraction. At first I was a little jealous, but I had no reason to be. Master spent the majority of his time with me, never skipped a beat in his interaction with me and I could tell he was making sure that I wouldn't feel neglected. Truth be told, he was burning the candle at both ends between his everyday work, his work with Angela, and spending time with me. In the end I felt guilty for my selfishness until I spoke with Master about it. His reassurance of his devotion to me left me realizing yet again that our relationship was not diminished by her presence, it was enhanced.
That truth has proven itself many times since then and the coming weekend was part of that revelation.
She was to arrive Friday and stay the weekend. I was so excited I couldn't contain it. I asked Master if he had plans. He nodded and asked me when I knew of a time that he didn't have a plan. Good point there, I couldn't think of one.
She arrived hours before Master was due home. The house looked great. I dismissed our house cleaner early and asked the cook to prepare a dinner which I could reheat. He made a spinach lasagna and salad and all I had to do was pop it in the oven and heat the bread. Perfect!
I should clarify that the house cleaner and cook are part of the household. They are well paid and I am convinced that they think we are crazy but they respect our privacy. A good portion of their pay compensates them for their silence and discretion.They are used to seeing my in various states of undress. I've caught the cook eyeing me many times. Sometimes I try to spare him, and other times I am a vicious tease, giving him glimpses of things he probably doesn't tell his wife. Our cleaning lady scolds me regularly for not wearing clothes. My favorite is, "Why do you think I want to see your naked body all the time?" She is a sweet lady though and we have had many good conversations. She doesn't understand our lifestyle but she understands why we want it to be our business and nobody else's.
Surely you can see why I would have wanted them gone.
I had a bottle of champagne on ice, for no particular occasion, just a huge desire to celebrate with her.
I was wearing what Master calls silks, which is a blue silk skirt, if you can call it a skirt, it is made of ribbons of silk a couple of inches wide which drape down to my knees from a thin belt which they loop around. It covers, but then it doesn't because the silk fabric is so thin and light that it blows or shifts with the slightest movement. Without panties the result is that you really are all but naked with the exception that when you kneel or sit, the ribbons gather between your legs and cover you, but they are parted above your thighs.
The top is essentially a little halter that wears loosely and is held up by my breasts. It reminds me of what a belly dancer might wear, but considerably more revealing. Ribbons similar to the skirt drape over my breasts, long enough to reach just above my belly button. There are a few more narrow ribbons next to the wide ones over my breasts and none go under the arms or across the back. The silk hides nothing of the contours of my shape. When my nipples are hard they feel almost as obvious as if I were naked.
They cover a little but they are beautiful and the silk feels amazing brushing against my skin. Over my nipples it is so subtle but relentless, that often my nipples just stay aroused. They make me feel very, very sexy.
The whole ensemble creates an illusion of being covered but you really are very exposed. The silk waves and sways with your movements. It parts over your legs when you walk. The effect is a seductive and fluid covering that hides little and resists nothing but looks nice.
Standing on our porch, suitcase in hand, Angela looked like a dream. It's odd how your memory of someone changes over time, and then when you see them again the real image comes flooding back. My heart leapt at the sight of her. She was stunning in a short, white, tight, low cut dress which contrasted with her warm, dark skin. She wore white stilettos and had a pearl choker around her throat. Her black hair curled over her shoulders and the smile on her face spoke volumes. Our excitement was obviously mutual.
She stood her small suitcase up and practically jumped into my arms. We hugged until I pushed her back and looked down her gorgeous body. "Angela, my god, you're even more beautiful than I remember! " It hit me that I'd only really seen her in her bikini or naked for any length of time. When she got dolled up she was stunning.
She grabbed her suitcase on its rollers and we went inside as she responded. "And look at you, what is that thing you're wearing?"
"Master calls it silks. I don't know where he gets them but I have a bunch."
I looked back at her and she was watching me walk. "Shit girl, that's crazy sexy," she said.
I smiled and went to the champagne, raising the bottle in invitation. She nodded and I proceeded to open the bottle. My curiosity was killing me. "So, how's it going? I mean, with Master." At his mention her expression changed, mellowed and her smile grew."
"It's going great, I think. He tells me he's pleased with my progress." She paused.
I couldn't resist the urge to interrupt. "And...? How do to feel about it?"
Her voice deepened and became softer. "Wow. That's hard to say. I feel, well, I feel like my whole life is changing. I feel like a different person. I see people differently. It's like I see people and their dominance stands out to me, or their submissiveness. I feel like I understand myself better. I love it Stephanie."
I interrupted again. "Sister sweetheart, sister.."
"Oh yeah. Wow, I've got to remember that." I smiled, knowing she'd get it fast.
She continued, "But, there's one more thing. I don't know how to say it, but Sir says I'm not as submissive as you, that he sees dominant qualities in me. He hasn't said much more than that."
I thought about that, not sure what implications that had. "Well, I'm sure Master will clear it up when he's ready."
I offered her a glass of champagne and we both sipped it, standing quietly afterwards. The silence would have been awkward but I broke in. "Well, let me show you around." I took her by the hand, showing her my perch, which she eyed with deep consideration. I showed her around the rest of the home and then we stepped into the backyard. She seemed most comfortable there, enjoying the pool and hot tub, the gazebo and the barbecue and pizza oven cooking area. She looked around and we chatted about privacy, which as far as I was concerned was iron clad. I had absolutely no fear of intrusion. There were service people who occasionally came through, and I told her about the cook and the house cleaner. She seemed to really appreciate that bit. We laughed together as I wholeheartedly agreed.
By the time we were done our glasses were empty and our familiar comfort with each other was returning. I was remembering the brilliant intelligence and the warm beauty that she radiates.
We poured more champagne and she settled onto a couch while I curled up on a pillow on my perch. She had questions about the perch and how day to day life looked here. I told her about the mundane bits first and then talked about the more intricate parts which pertained to our lifestyle. How I greet Master each day, how we sleep and where we play.
