Saturday mornings are made for sleep. That was her mantra and a ritual that she followed as faithfully as some went to Mass on Sunday morning. The policy was purely out of respect for the dreams that she could never give the attention they deserved during the week. Monday through Friday, the alarm clock seemed to scream her name at 6 AM, forcing her away from the warm beach water engulfing her body or the strong hands of a man pinning her hands above her head. Now, her wrists ached as they were held there, her Master's knee forcing her thighs widely apart as she lay there in her bed. She felt her nipple harden quickly as he moved his mouth to it, gnawing on it roughly. She arched her back, letting out a shriek of pain...or was it pleasure?
She rolled over, rudely jolted awake by the shrill ring of the telephone. A low groan escaped her lips as she slowly rolled over toward the nightstand. Her eyes seemed to drift open of their own accord, the flashing red numbers coming into focus. 8:15. Who would be calling her at 8:15 on Saturday morning? Annoyed, she picked up the receiver and quickly slammed it back down on its cradle. No one bothered her before eleven on Saturday morning. Not if they valued their life.
A few seconds passed by—just enough time for her to begin drifting back to sleep—before it rang again. It must be important, she thought to herself, reaching over and lifting the phone from its place on the nightstand. As she moved it reluctantly to her ear, she could feel the moisture that had accumulated between her legs. She would do anything to be back in her Master's bedroom, being used as His sex toy...
"Hello?" She answered the phone flatly and quietly, the way a person does when they speak the first words of the day.
"Don't you ever hang up on me in that manner again." The voice at the other end of the line, velvety and decidedly masculine, was only firm and had not yet progressed to anger. Yet, she knew that she had to watch her step if she was going to avoid His wrath.
"Master...it's you..." She tried to yawn as quietly as possible, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. She was still not completely awake, the dream still fresh in her mind. Her nipples were hard, her pussy wet, her chest heaving from that night's dream. Still, she didn't mind being taken away from it. Not when it was Him on the other end of the line.
"We will discuss the manner in which you answer the phone later. You will pay for it once I have had time to think about it, but I have other instructions for you right now."
"Yes Sir," she responded meekly, feeling a twinge of panic at the mention of a punishment.
"I will be there in one hour. I want you shaved and showered. Hair up in a ponytail, top of your head. You will wear your back seam nylons and garter belt. No panties, I want full access. Your black see-through bra. You know where to be, when I arrive." Before she was able to answer Him, she heard a soft "click" followed by the dial tone. Her fingers wandered up towards the medallion around her neck, and then they trailed slowly down through the valley of her breasts to that hot, wet spot between her legs. It was pulsating still from her dream, and she wanted to rub it to release right there on her bed...but there was no time. She only had an hour to get ready...
***
He stood outside her door, coolly searching for the correct key. He sorted through His large collection, looking at each key one by one and whistling a merry little tune, making sure that she heard him from inside of her tiny apartment. He knew she would be waiting for Him. She was a good girl. He chuckled to Himself, thinking of all the anxiety she must have put herself through in the last hour. He knew the mind of His girl well enough to know that she had let her imagination run wild wondering He was going to do to her. He took His time, letting her suffer a little bit longer....and smiling at the thought.
***
Her knees were beginning to ache. She had been there for ten minutes, or maybe more. She could not know for sure. Once she had assumed her position, she was forbidden to move. If she did, he always knew it. She didn't know how, but He always knew. Normally in this position, she felt herself begin to dry out as she was exposed to the cool, open air. Today, though, she had been too horny to dry out. The juices just kept flowing. Her hands were outstretched in front of her, forcing her shoulder blades together behind her, her nipples brushing the rough carpet underneath her. She was so thankful for the cushion her Master allowed her to have below her forehead.
She jumped as she heard the soft humming and the gentle clinking of her Master's keys. This would be the hardest part. She wanted to lift her head and see His face when He moved into the house. Oh, how she wanted to move to Him and throw her arms about Him and kiss Him...but as it was, she was His toy, and she would only do such things when it was permitted of her.
She swore she could hear His smile as He opened the door, and she kept count as His boots hit the floor, one by one. It was seven steps from the door to her greeting place. She heard five. Deafening silence followed, and she heard nothing but her heart as it pounded in her ears. It was quick and panicked as thoughts raced about in her head...all of them lusty and exciting, but none of them lingering long enough to be enjoyed. All that was left was the incredible rush she experienced from simply not knowing.
The click of the camera sent another wave of endorphins through her already trembling body. She heard two steps. He was right beside her. She could feel Him as He snapped another picture. A finger swept gently along her slit, making her hips thrust even further up into the air. A low chuckle came from His throat as she felt something cool, long, and thick enter into her soaking cunt. Her muscles closed tightly around it, and she allowed a load moan to escape those ruby lips.
She felt Him roughly grab her hair by the ponytail and pull her up from the floor and onto her knees. "Do I have to gag you?"
She whimpered softly and shook her head as much as His firm grip would allow. She knew better than to speak. He did not allow her the luxury of speech—of any sound—while in this position. She was His toy. She was to be nothing more than that.
He released her dark hair suddenly, leaving her scrambling to return gracefully to the position He had designated for her. Her thighs splayed a little wider than before in an attempt to appease His anger, her musky scent filling the room. Her little pearl was pulsating wildly, her body silently begging for her Master's touch...
Click.
