On top of the bed, there are clothes laid out for me. A black t-shirt and black boxers. The boxers are like the ones I used to wear with one huge difference: the size. They are two sizes down and it gets really squeezy pulling them up. A note is waiting for me on the nightstand,
"There is a cushion near the door; it's not left there by accident."
A chuckle comes out of my mouth reading the note; I love the way you write messages. The cushion is indeed waiting for me, placed in a spot from which I couldn't be seen from the hallway when you open the door. I kneel on it and wait.
Since I have taken off my wristwatch and my mobile is nowhere in sight, I lose track of time. It feels like an eternity. Waiting like this is a good opportunity for me to think about the night ahead. I close my eyes and I can see your face, shining when I said yes to this. I would do anything to see you this happy and excited.
I hear your heels clicking on the marbled floor of the hallway. Then your keys. I straighten up my back and take a deep breath.
"Good boy," you say when you step into our flat; yet the door is still open and anyone could hear you.
I see you carry shopping bags and as you close the door, you ignore me and head for the living room. You wear high-heeled pumps and as I'm on my knees, you look gigantic. You return a moment later, holding a purple dog collar. "Are you ready to be my pet?" you ask and I could sense the anticipation in your voice.
"Yes, Miss," I reply with confidence and you snap the collar around my throat.
"From now on, it's Mistress," you inform me while you attach the leash.
"Yes, Mistress."
"Now show me how grateful you are for being my pet."
You stand a few inches away from me and as I bow down, I could reach you. I kiss the top of your feet. You hum, satisfied with my move and you give my leash a tug. Your tongue is buried inside my mouth for a rough kiss. "You won't regret that," you whisper in my ear and in the meantime, you grab my already stiff cock; it betrays my feelings about being your slave.
You signal me to stand up and lead me to the living room. The reclining chair is waiting for you and another cushion is waiting for me on the floor, "I have to reply to a few emails before we begin. You may caress my legs but don't use your tongue. That comes later."
"Yes, Mistress," I oblige but instead of taking your laptop on your lap, you stand up and fetch a ball gag.
"I require you to be silent while I'm working," you explain and I open my mouth willingly.
The gag is tasteless and it stretches my mouth; I hate it and love it at the same time. Hate it because of its taste and its ability to make me drool and love it because it's a sign of your control over me.
I do as I'm told, caressing your tights-clad legs as you respond to your emails. You don't even spare me a look yet you don't allow me to move away; the free end of the leash is around your right wrist. I'm burning with anticipation; I can't wait to service you but you ignore me. You stop typing and watch a video, prolonging the scene and my frustration with the gag. Your perfume is discreet, but I'm too close to you so it has covered my nostrils. It's intoxicating; it drives me wild.
Finally, you put your computer aside and look at me. "Take off my tights," you bark and I'm excited that I can finally do something. As soon as it's off, you raise your skirt on your hips and spread your legs. Your black knickers are probably moist already but I'm far away to say for sure. "You want to lick my pussy, pet?" you ask, even though you know the answer. I remain still and you slap me in the face, "I asked a question." Since I can't talk, I nod emphatically.
The gag is removed and I take a couple of deep breaths. "Put your hands behind your back and eat me over my underwear."
I mumble, "Yes, Mistress," and I immediately bury my face between your legs. Although I rarely miss a chance to eat you out, I've never been that aroused before. You were soaked even before my lips touched you and I take great pride in that. I lick hungrily but the fabric annoys me. It's thin enough for your juices to go through, but I can't touch your swollen lips. But you're the boss and this was your order; I should have no opinion on the matter.
It doesn't take you long to climax; your orgasm is the greatest reward for my efforts. You catch your breath again and pull me away from your body, using my short hair. I can finally breathe normally as well. You stare at me while I pant but your face tells me that you were satisfied with my performance. I get a kiss; it's shorter than I wanted it to be but it's your call. You remove your knickers, covered with your juices. You make a ball with them; I realise it's my new gag and I welcome it. It's much better than the ball gag; it's softer, it tastes like your pussy and it's even more humiliating; I have my owner's underwear in my mouth. Before you leave, you stroke my erection two or three times and I moan even with my gag. The handle of my leash is placed under one of the legs of the coffee table; it's rather symbolic that I need to remain there.
Once again, I lose track of time. I hear water running so you're probably showering. And then it stops. I try to relax and even forget about my desire for you in order for the time to pass quicker. It's easier said than done; I have your knickers in my mouth, your collar around my neck, my face smells of your pussy.
I can trace some steps, as if you were coming to me. And you do. You open the door, but you're far from ready. You wear a bathrobe and slippers. "You may go to the bathroom," you say and remove my gag and unclip my leash. "But don't wash your face."
"Yes, Mistress," I say softly and leave.
You're waiting for me to return and when I do, I go back to my position. The leash is attached once more and I see you pulling the used knickers out of your pussy, "I thought they needed some extra taste," you explain after you shut my mouth again, "And I'm a very horny Mistress so I'm always wet."
It takes you longer than I expect to get ready. But when you finally return to the living room, I realise it was worth it. You wear a new leather corset that fits your body perfectly. And a new pair of leather boots with high heels. There is no piece of underwear below the waist apart from a garter belt to keep your stockings in place. Your wavy hair is falling on your shoulders and your make-up is simple and light; you know exactly what I like.
