Night Out with Master

At last night has fallen. I dress quickly while Master watches silently. I adore the feeling of his eyes on me, and I linger in the nude while I finish my makeup & hair. As always, I finish my grooming by kneeling at his feet and extending my delicate neck for him to place the collar he has chosen for this outing.

Soon I am decked out in full slut regalia: push up bra under a sheer blouse, short black skirt that shows just a hint of the lace on my thigh -his, and my best slave shoes - the shiny black patent stilettos with locked straps around the ankles. My only jewelry is my striking new collar, which speaks for itself and stands alone.

Without a word, Master opens the front door and gestures me through. When he is quiet like this, I know it is time to focus carefully. Whatever is to come, the scene will likely be intense and I dare not disappoint him. So, I smile at him softly and lower my gaze, then step by him into a night of certain adventure.

The air is slowly cooling with the breeze and it feels delicious on my fevered skin. All day, Master has been teasing me, not telling me what he has planned, only that we are going out. Over and over he has devastated my body with passion, only to withdraw before my release.

Master looks wickedly calm, while I am trying hard not to shiver. It's not cold, so I know that I am nervous about his plans. We drive to a wild dance club a few towns over. The club is someplace where I almost fit in, while still drawing attention for being the most exposed and sexual woman in the place. I am surprised that Master has taken me here. I truly expected something more intimate. Yet I admit to a certain pride at being able to be out this way -to be seen as something most people here only dream of.

We settle in at a table in the corner. Master's back is to the wall as always, so I am focused only on him, while he watches the entire room. As it should be. Nothing out there is my concern, only pleasing him.

"Go freshen up, slut" he suggests casually. As I leave the table for the ladies' room, Master reaches up and grabs my wrist. With a dangerous smile, he reminds me for the 17th time that day that if I dare to cum without his approval he is leaving me then & there.

I take my time at the mirror, trying to be sure that I look my best for him... and taking deep breaths to steady myself for whatever lies ahead. I can sense his excitement at whatever is coming my way, and it races my heart & quickens my breath.

I contemplate myself in the mirror, always looking for ways to be more pleasing to Master. My hair was shoulder length when we met, but now it is half way down my back in the gentle auburn waves he prefers. I work out as often as my busy life allows, and I attack every crunch and circuit thinking of his pleasure in my toned condition and endurance. I know that he loves my legs, especially in heels, so I always devote extra time to keeping them shapely. My waist is tiny, just perfect for his hands to wrap around and my stomach is tight.

All in all, the years have been kind and my perpetually hard nipples provide the proverbial icing on my cake. Determined to do him proud, I steel myself and strut my way out to our table... every sway of my hips broadcasting the confidence that belonging to him gives me.

That sway stutters oh so slightly when I see that my chair has been filled. A man, back to me, is conversing easily with Master. I stop two steps shy of the table so as not to interrupt, and wait for Master to cue his desires. I expect him to say something, perhaps introduction, perhaps reprimand, but I am startled by the off-hand way he motions me to assume position at his feet.

I am surprised by this boldness in a vanilla dance club, yet the club disappears to me the moment I enter my place at his feet. There was a time when my mind raced in this position, always trying to anticipate his next move, to consider my options. But now, I find quiet and peace in his presence, basking in his gaze while he decides what to do with me. I belong here and I open myself to receive whatever he wishes.

After at least 3 more minutes, Master leans down & whispers to me "Are you ready to make me proud, slut?"

"Yes, Master," I say ... more of a moan than a word.

When he speaks again, I can tell by his tone that he is sending a clear message to our guest -that I am his completely, that he cherishes me like a favorite pet, and that he will protect me at all costs.

"Say hello to Robert, slut...properly." I turn, without rising, eyes still lowered to the floor.

"Hello, Robert"

"Hello Slut," he replies. To my practiced ear, the verbal capitalization of my name is obvious and I know he is out of his league. That's ok by me. I can top from the bottom when required and I will lead him subtly if that is what Master wishes. I can discern this intent in Master's gaze, in his directive to play nice, so I glance up slowly & smile shyly at Robert.

Yes, he is definitely more comfortable face to face. Master sees this too, but leaves him squirming and me wondering what to do about it. Robert begins to make small talk, asking how I am tonight, etc. I answer humbly & politely and guess that he has only seconds before Master becomes bored & takes charge.

I am wrong. Master clearly believes I need more practice in patience, for I remain on my knees for 5 more minutes of chitchat. Just when I think that I may just assert myself and mentally body slam Robert into the sub position for kicks, Master snaps me back into position at his feet, where I nuzzle his thigh & hand delighted to be back at his side.

"Are you wet?" he asks ... and none too softly. Robert jumps at this. I can feel his shock without ever taking my eyes off Master.

"Let me check," I blush.

This ritual between us never fails to entertain Master. There is no need to ask my condition, nor any need for me to check. I am always wet for him. I suppose in a more mundane relationship we would fall back to "Hi, Honey, I'm home! Did you miss me!?" Rhetorical, but absolutely requiring an appropriate response nonetheless.

I am indeed wet, as I have been all day. My clit is swollen, my entire slit slick with the need to please him. I raise my juicy fingers to offer them to Master, but he shakes his head & bids me to "Make our friend feel useful" So I turn to Robert, slipping my wet fingers between his lips, staring into his eyes all the while.

"Is she wet, Robert?" Master asks. Robert nods, speechless at the exchange. Yes, we have such wonderful things to show him!

"Excellent," Master smiles and rises from his seat. "Shall we?" Leaving the noisy club, I am anticipating a ride to Robert's house, but instead I am pressed up against the side of the nearest car. "Spread your legs, slut!" Oh my God, I'm going to be fucked standing up in the parking lot! The only question is by whom? Master grabs my hair & presses my face against the glass. "Stay there," he whispers throatily against my ear.

There are hands all over me, familiar and foreign, but moving so fast & so intensely that it's hard to keep up with who is where. I love the blur of sensation. I want to slow things down, to drop to my knees & suck them both until their swollen cocks are leaking and pulsing with need. I want to tease and make it last. But ultimately, all I really want is to be a good little slut and please Master by surrendering.

My voice is breathy whimper. "Master? Please, Master... please fuck me ... I need your cock deep inside me! I've waited all day & I can't wait anymore!"

His strong hands surround my throat, I feel his cockhead nestle between my swollen pussy lips and already the tension is rising in my cunt. I won't last long. I freeze, knowing that if I get greedy and shove back against him now I may never be allowed to orgasm on his cock again. I quiver with anticipation and need, then at last he slams into me fully, burying his shaft deep in my womb. I can feel him pressing against my navel from inside, his pulse stroking me even while he holds himself balls deep in me.

"Cum for me, slut, so you can pay proper attention to our guest next," Master breathes into my ear.

So I do. All the day's frustration and lust collapse into me, my walls convulsing around him, his strong arms the only thing keeping me from collapsing on the pavement. I howl into the night air, riding wave after wave, already sensing the lust for him beginning to build in me again. I know that I am far from done with orgasms for this night.

Robert apparently enjoyed the show, for he's stroking his shaft. His pants are still on, but he's drawn his dripping cock through the opening and is pumping himself, staring mesmerized at my convulsing impaled pussy. He looks to Master for permission and I wonder if he has earned his way into my still shuddering box?