His slave woke up early, the sun streamed through her bedroom window. It seemed to call her to get up, get moving and make the most of her day. She stretched, arching her back a bit as her feet pushed against the cat at the foot of the bed. Her naked body anticipated the phone call later; gently, one hand slide down between her legs and felt the smoothness.
Her fingertips glided over the sensitive outer lips of her cunt, and she smiled as she knew today He promised He would let her be with Him, to please Him. That usually meant she would be allowed to cum with Him, He had always been generous with allowing her to seek release with Him. She thought of His cock pushing into her, slicing through her wetness and stretching her tight pussy. Fingers slid up to tease her nipples, feeling the soft, velvet skin of her tits. God, she just wanted to shove her fingers into the heat of her cunt, slide them up to fill and stretch the tight hole that belonged to Him. She knew He would not know, but as much as she needed to cum, she could not do that.
The slave felt almost grumpy as she stroked slowly without entering the pussy. Her body lifted, begged to be fucked. She thought how she was always ready to fuck. She considered how she could be working and, suddenly, her tingling pussy reminded her that she needed to be filled and used. Pain lightly washed over her as she pinched a nipple. It was a subtle, caressing pain, not the sharp slice she longed for when with Him. Hands slid over the naked skin, feeling the warmth in the swells and hollows of her body. Rolling on one side, she allowed her fingers to dip between the full lips to brush against her needy clit. His girl sighed and thought of how He would use her later.
Her body craved Him, her mind was consumed with thoughts of Him. Reluctantly, she withdrew her finger and lay still in the morning light, face turned to the window. Finally, she slid out of the rumpled bed, and pulled jeans and a t-shirt over her nakedness. The fabric teased her naked, rounded breasts. Already, her nipples throbbed for His touch. Quickly, she brushed her teeth and braided her hair into one braid, then moved to the kitchen and made a strong, first cup of coffee.
His girl carried the cup to the computer and tucked one leg under her as she worked silently in her journal. Hazel eyes looked to the lower right corner of her computer monitor, and, impatiently, kept track of the time. The seam of her jeans teased her. If she moved subtly she could feel it press to her clit, as if a rope was pressing between her hot thighs to rub between her parted lips. How often had she thought of that? How often had she wondered if He would bind her under her clothes? It seemed her mind just drifted to thoughts like that now.
At 9:00, she mentally pictured Him still sound asleep as dawn got ready to break. 5:00 for Him. Would He pull a rope into her pussy, up around her tits, binding them securely to remind her of His Ownership? Would He dress her in a loose dress to take her out in public, knowing as she walked the ropes rubbed her and tortured her? She considered how her thoughts had changed since they had met. Her was mind opened to how He would use her.
At 10:00, she counted backwards. 6:00 for Him. The slave felt an ache of need that swept over her. Her mind continued to drift as she felt Him gag her. He lifted her hair and tied the gag under the long, dark strands as her lips touched the fabric between them. Her tongue felt the obstruction and slid over it.
At 11:00, she looked up from her work and stretched. Her breasts pushed against the cotton shirt, nipples hardened at the thought of His touch. She closed her eyes and reached for the phone; then pulled out her calling card and dialed. The phone rang. Once. Twice. Uh oh. Suddenly, she remembered. It is Saturday there. It is His ‘sleep in’ day. His slave held her breath, and waited for His voice. The phone rang on and she was caught. She could not hang up in case, He was moving to get it. She wanted to disconnect before He woke. Then a voice came on the line, but it was not His. The recording told her that He was unavailable and she sighed in silent relief as she placed the phone back in its rest, and made another coffee.
For an hour she worked. Thoughts kept racing around her head. Would He ever command her be with another? Another woman? Another Man? Would she like it? Did she want that? Questions of the unknown and undiscovered filled her. She thought of asking Him, but knew He would say, “If it pleases Me.” Sometimes, the answer made her want to her scream as she wondered how she was supposed to know things, to learn. In fairness though, she knew He told her these things in His own time.
She looked longingly at the phone, and picked it up. Quickly, she pushed the buttons. Twice the phone rang. She smiled as she heard His voice; the voice of her Master, her Owner. She felt the continuous smile and heard her laughter as they spoke. Soft words traveled thousands of miles to discuss the daily pieces of their lives. She made a third cup of coffee and curled up in a chair as she listened to Him speak of business and what He had accomplished. The girl knew she was proud of Him; just as she knew she loved Him. She spoke of things she wrote and read; she asked for permission to spend time with a friend the next day. It had become easier to ask, as if each time His permission became more a part of her. She knew she had grown to rely on His consent, and she relaxed in that knowledge.
As they spoke, her voice got husky and soft. Her body leaned back, legs stretching under her desk. Eyes closed as she asked Him to fuck her. His voice deepened as He refused her.
“Whore bitch,” He uttered.
She heard His desire.
“What are you wearing, slut,” He asked.
Quietly, His girl answered, “Jeans and t-shirt, my Master. No shoes, no underwear.”
His voice, alone, teased her and stirred her desires. She felt as if she was an ember, one small coal. One small coal that burns to the touch. One small coal that can start a raging forest fire. He excited her with His words and voice. Words like “bitch, whore, slut, and cunt” wrapped around her as His voice deepened with His desire. His voice commanded her and drove her need higher.
“Master, please fuck me,” she began to beg, “please, fuck Your whore.”
Her legs parted as her hips lifted from the chair. He seemed to see her as He denied her what she desired. His cock. She felt the need rise higher as if a fever consumed her.
“Get your toy, whore.” He said.
She reached beside her and replied it was here in her hand. His voice was stern, demanding as He commanded her to push her jeans to her knees and hold the cock to her bare lips. She quickly complied, the jeans catching as if intended to be a restraint to tease her even more. The cock pushed to her outer lips, and she felt the wetness stirring in her hot pussy. The pussy He owned. As if she ever forgot that. She breathed into the phone, filling the air waves with her need. Soft whimpers, moans, and breathy words were sent to Him. Her body was ready to be used. He forgot nothing as He asked if her nipples were hard; she told Him how they pressed from the shirt. As she looked at them, they seemed to jut from the fabric.
“Drive it in fast and hard, bitch.” He demanded.
She felt the wetness of her cunt and pushed the toy, His cock, into her heat. It filled her. He filled her.
“Slowly, move it in and out,” her Master ordered.
Oh, God. She wanted Him as she heard Him and could feel Him. She knew He would use her hard today. There was time for Him to take His time and enjoy the slave He owned. Rocking her body, she felt the cock sliding in and out. She gasped as He fucked her; His words teased her and drove her. The slut arched and thrust to Him. He could hear the wet fucking without her lowering the phone to the fucked pussy. “Whore bitch,” He growled in her ear. Quickly, she was brought almost to climax. The slut begged Him to take her, to allow her to cum. She begged for His cum to cover her face as He told her to cum hard and fast.
“Cum, bitch,” He almost barked at her as she cried out.
Waves rode over her as she slammed onto Him. Now one with Him, no longer was it a ‘toy’ deep in the cunt He owned. It was Him. It was His cock that rammed into the body He owned. Gasping and moaning, she felt her Master give her intensity. She smelled the wet cream that covered His cock. Hot, wetness streamed over the hard cock as the cunt, itself, almost steamed.
The slut fell back as she fucked Him. Her body still moved on Him, and she begged Him for His cum. She longed to feel it spurt over her face, and into her hair. She longed to wear it, that dried spunk of His, all day. Suddenly, she heard Him. Faster, she moved on Him, begging again to cum with the Master who owned her.
“Get ready, bitch,” He demanded and she cried out she was ready.
“Please, Master. Please, may I cum with You?” her cries filled the room.
“Cum, whore,” He commanded.
Her Master allowed her release as He pulled His cock from her and sprayed hot seed over her face and into her hair. She felt the warmth slide over her lips and across her cheeks. Ropes of cum created a lace pattern on her raised face.
Falling back, she murmured her thanks to Him as His cock pushed back deeply into her hot snatch. He was not done. Quietly, He told her to pull up her jeans, keeping His cock in her. With no question, His girl complied. Her hips rose as she pulled them over her ass and buttoned them. she could smell the scent of her hot wet cream on her thighs. He told her to get up and, keeping the cock inside her, go outside to her garden. As she moved, He instructed her to move to the most private spot among her plants. She felt the sun’s warmth as she moved across the warm soil in her bare feet.
“Where are you, bitch?” He asked.
