Everything is in place. The bathroom, the kitchen, and the bedroom all clean and tidy. The floor vacuumed, the porch swept. She lights the candles, noting how still everything seems. Magic time, the sunset, he will be here with her, soon.
She raises the blind part way on the west window. Pink clouds clinging to the last rays of sunlight, as evening slips in behind them. Looking out on the gravel driveway, she hopes to see his headlights coming over the hill, though there is still no sign of him.
Already naked, she has carefully pinned her hair up and out of the way tonight. Being especially eager, for some reason, to have nothing inhibit her - no wayward tendrils to hastily pull away, should he decide to use her mouth, or even just to kiss her. She has prepared herself for this, leaving nothing to chance.
Sitting on her knees by the window, she gazes out, becomes dreamy, lets herself be still and quiet for the first time in hours. He is close, the impulse blooms in her mind, then she hears the crunch of tires on gravel and the familiar rumble of his engine.
Little flutters in her belly, she quickly moves to the bed and assumes the requested position. Bottom in the air, breasts against the mattress, legs spread, back arched. She rests her arms flat against the mattress, bent at the elbow, and rests her right cheek on her hands.
She reminds herself to be obedient, then stifles a chuckle at the thought. 'Who is the one talking,' she wonders, 'who is the one listening?' Giddy, she puts those thoughts aside quickly, not wanting to get carried away. 'Don't let him come in to find me laughing like a mad woman at the voices in my head.' Her mind flickers to darker musings Will he hurt her tonight? Will he still not cum? He'll have to leave. He always leaves.
His car door creaks as it opens. She quiets instantly, listening to his movements. He walks past the window. The blind is still up. She wonders if he looks in at her, waiting for him. Exposed, vulnerable. She wonders what it feels like to be him, seeing her.
The house is dark, except for the few candles. Sunset fading into purple as the front door opens, and he steps inside. He pauses in the living room, dropping his keys on the counter. She smiles to herself, knowing his habit so well now. She cannot see him, but pictures him, with his eyes narrowed, nodding his head, agreeing with his surroundings. Like a predator at the hunt, taking it all in before he moves any further. After a few moments she hears the rustle of his jacket.
Her body is humming softly to itself. She feels supremely sensitive, aroused, aware. He is going to touch her, she will let him touch her. His touch, he makes her wait for it, and he then rewards her. He doesn't give in to her, doesn't let her get away with her little tricks. her Master.
Finally, he enters the room where she waits for him. He sits down beside her, kisses her warm cheek, her smooth forehead. Gently, he begins caressing her shoulders, back, and hips, greeting her body, before he even speaks to her. He puts his hand on her left buttock and squeezes, then he stands.
Moving beyond her field of vision, he is silent. She hears him open the bottom drawer of her dresser, and begin to sift through the contents. He returns, pulling her hands out from under her head, he brings them around to her back and begins to tie her wrists.
She is careful to oblige him, offering each wrist, submitting to the binding without hesitation, just like a good slave would do. Moving behind her, he begins pinching her thighs and buttocks, tugging at her roughly, he rubs his knuckles into her sex. He plunges two fingers deep into her as she whimpers softly.
"Is my little slave woman afraid of her master?" His tone is mocking, teasing, as he leans close to her ear. He gives his fingers a little twist, wriggles them deeper into her soft warmth. She may whimper, but her pussy sucks at his fingers, he can feel her open herself to his touch, her body asking more of him.
She blushes as he pulls his fingers out and begins to rub her. "Offer it to me, it feels so good when you offer yourself. Let me just touch you, right here, just like this, just for a little while." A part of her is horrified by his lewdness, the things he says and how he handles her most sensitive and delicate area - and yet, her body responds.
She arches further, inches her legs further apart, wanting to give him better access to her, to help him touch her deeper. Not to please him, not because he wants her to. No, it's for her, because it feels so good to be touched, to be teased, to be pleasured while her hands are tied.
