This story was an assignment from my first Master. He asked me to write a fantasy of 24 hours with him.
The warmth of the sun on her face woke Leslie to a new day. She opened her eyes and stretched like a cat. Then a thought jolted her into full consciousness.
Today was the day! Instantly she felt her pussy come to life, and without thinking, her hand slid down to her clit. She was rewarded with a slippery wetness and began to lazily circle her finger around the little button as she pondered what the day held in store. She would spend the next 24 hours in the service of her Master.
She glanced at the bedside clock. It was 7:30. Master had told her to expect a delivery at 8. She smiled and lay back, surrendering to the feeling of her fingers dancing on her clit. She knew better than to cum, though, so she varied the pressure on her nub, and teased a nipple with the other hand.
Leslie was still new to this lifestyle. In fact, Master was her first Dom, but she had been amazed at how quickly he had tapped into her deepest desires. He seemed to know exactly what she needed for complete sexual satisfaction. She had never had such powerful orgasms. It seemed all she had to do was hear his voice, and her pussy – or more properly, his pussy -- obeyed.
She was nervous about what the day would hold, but her excitement kept her fears at bay. She could trust him, she told herself. She had to have this – she was like a woman who had lived on hamburger who had now suddenly discovered prime rib.
Her fingers were bringing her too close to cumming, so Leslie decided to get up and dress. Her delivery should arrive soon. A conservative, straitlaced teacher, Leslie's normal casual wardrobe would have been a basic tshirt and shorts, but as she was transforming into a slut, she felt the irresistible need to show herself to people. A delivery man would be a delicious target.
He rang the doorbell a few minutes after eight. Leslie opened the door in a top that barely contained her 38DD breasts and a skirt that barely covered her ass. No panties, either. She had been hoping for a young, hot guy, but somehow she was more turned on at the middle-aged man ogling her. She smiled, took the box, tipped the guy and closed the door, leaving him bewildered on her doorstep.
What had Master sent her? With trembling hands and dripping pussy she ripped open the box.
There was the open-tip bra they had discussed! Juices flooded her pussy anew. There was also a set of nipple rings with little jewels connected by a thin chain. Thigh-high stockings with backseams, a small, clear butt plug and a pair of black platform shoes with what looked like ankle restraints. Leslie giggled..they were what she called "fuck me pumps." There was also a folded piece of paper. Leslie opened it and read:
A driver will pick you up promptly at 10 AM. You are to wear the bra and clamps under your clothes. Wear your collar, a short skirt, stockings, and the shoes – but no panties. Carry the butt plug in your hand. You may use it to tease my pussy and clit in the car. Let the driver watch if he wants to. You may say hello and make small talk before you get in the car, but don't talk to him or make eye contact while you are in the car. You are my slut. I am just allowing him to see what is mine. I will see you when you get here.
Master
Leslie had barely noticed that her hand had gone back to her pussy as she read Master's note. Was there no end to the amount of wetness she could generate? Carry the butt plug? This was a stretch. One could get away with short skirts or heavy makeup without generating too much attention, but there was no mistaking what walking around with a butt plug in your hand meant. Could she do that? What if she put it in her purse? Master wouldn't have to know, would he? So far she had done nothing to deserve punishment. She loved pleasing Master, but she did wonder what punishments he would impose. Did she want to find out? Maybe he would withhold her orgasm. Or maybe he wouldn't let her suck his cock. She couldn't risk either of those. She would carry the butt plug, because Master told her to. He knew she needed to fully embrace her inner slut.
That decided, she went to get ready. She showered, removing the hair from her legs and pussy, teasing her clit some more as she did. When her hair was dry and styled, she put on her makeup, heavier and sluttier than normal. She had picked up on the fact that Master liked his sluts to look like sluts, so she was extra heavy with the eyeliner, mascara and lipstick.
She looked at herself, relieved that she wasn't going out in public like this. It would be hard enough to face the driver, but she would do it. She looked at her naked body in the mirror. At 40, she no longer had the body she'd had as a young woman. Her tits had begun to sag a little, and her belly was no longer flat. Still, she had to admit, she looked sexy. A healthy diet and sessions with a trainer were bringing back some muscle tone. Master had told her she was lovely and that's all she needed to know.
The open-tip bra fit perfectly. It was smooth and left holes just big enough for her erect nipples to poke through. She slipped the rings over her nipples, and felt a jolt in her already sopping pussy. She chose a top that showed plenty of cleavage, but was loose enough to hide her nipple adornments -- mostly. The skirt she picked was short and black, hitting her at mid-thigh. She slid the stockings up her legs and loved the way the sheer fabric clung to her curves. A shoe freak, she was delighted with the pumps Master had chosen for her. The five-inch heels, platforms and ankle wraps were also unmistakably slutty. She added large earrings and checked her appearance once more. There was no doubt what she was dressed for. She had "FUCK ME LIKE THE SLUT I AM" written all over her.
The doorbell interrupted her thoughts. Her eyes widened and her heart pounded as she realized the moment had arrived. She gathered her purse and the butt plug and opened the door.
"Miss Jones?" The driver's mouth opened as he looked at the sight before him. Leslie could feel her face redden.
"Y-y-y-es?" Her voice trembled under his gaze. He was young, tall, and incredibly handsome. Leslie could hardly meet his eyes.
"Um, I'm here to pick you up." He was as flustered as she was. His eyes widened as he realized what she was holding in her hand. She jerked the butt plug behind her back and followed him dumbly to the limousine.
Once inside, the young driver didn't try to make conversation. She was thankful for that. She was on the edge of freaking out, but her pussy had a mind of its own. She felt the wetness on the inside of her thighs, and without thinking, spread her legs and began to tease her clit with the plug. As Master had instructed, she didn't look up to see if the driver was watching. She had to stop. The last thing she wanted to do was to show up in front of Master after having an unauthorized orgasm. She moved slid the plug down to tease the entrance of her pussy, and pulled on the chain under her blouse with the other hand.
She had no idea how long she'd been in the car or in what direction she was going, but she looked out the window as the car slowed. She was in a lovely neighborhood. Manicured lawns, swimming pools, sidewalks where mothers strolled their children and couples jogged along. The car turned into a circular driveway in front of a large traditional home. It reminded her of the house she had grown up in. A smile crept across her face as she thought that her home had never seen anything like what was inside this one.
Her breath caught in her throat as she saw Master standing in front of the door, wearing a dress shirt and suit pants. He was so handsome she could hardly believe he had chosen her. She fought the urge to jump out of the car and waited until her hunky young driver opened the door for her. He ogled her again as he offered his hand to help her out of the car, but now she only had eyes for her Master. She thanked the driver and walked toward the house. Master smiled as he took in her appearance.
At 6'2", he towered over her, even with the extra five inches of heels. It added to his power over her. He took her hand and helped her up the steps, then claimed her lips with a kiss while his hand claimed her ass. After probing her mouth with his tongue, he released her, breathless.
He led her into the house, into a large tile foyer.
"Stop there," he commanded. "I see you have your butt plug. Good girl. We'll get to that in a moment. Put it on the table there." She placed the plug on its base. The clear acrylic made it look like a piece of sculpture.
He walked a few steps away from her and turned back so he could fully admire her body. "Take that top off right now. I want to see my slut's tits in the gifts I bought." Leslie pulled the blouse over her head and dropped it on the floor.
"Now, pull up that skirt. I want to see my pussy." She obeyed, holding the skirt up so he could see her bare pussy framed by the black stockings.
"Excellent. Now lose the skirt." She slid the skirt off and stepped out of it. "And how is my pussy today?
She could hardly speak. "It's on fire, Sir. I can hardly touch it. I think I woke up at an 8 and it's been there ever since."
"Wonderful. You are such a good slut."
"Thank you, Sir."
Now, get on your knees and come over here and give me a proper hello."
Leslie dropped to her knees and began to crawl. Master unzipped his pants and pulled out his semi-hard cock and balls.
She looked up into his eyes as she opened her mouth and slid his cock into her mouth. This was her favorite place to be – on her knees in front of her Master with her mouth full of cock.
She bathed his cock in her saliva, sucking and licking like she was starving. She reached around and grabbed his ass with both hands. He pulled her hair back, holding it tightly in one hand.
"Put your hands behind your back, slut. I didn't say you could touch my ass." Leslie obeyed at once. Master pulled her by the hair off his dick with an audible pop. She looked up at him with questioning eyes.
"Mmmmm. Just look at you. Lipstick smeared all over your face mixed with my precum. What a fuck whore you are."
He knew exactly the effect his words were having on her. She craved hearing such filthy things. She wanted to be a fuck whore – HIS fuck whore.
"Whose fuck whore are you?" Damn! How did he do that? How did he read her mind?
"Your fuck whore, Master."
"Good. Now, go get your butt plug." He pulled her to her feet by the hair and smacked her ass as she walked to the table.
She was still a little unsure about the plug. She didn't have much experience with anal play, but she was determined to at least try. She held the plug up to him with trembling fingers.
"Are you nervous, little one?" He smiled at her trepidation.
"Yes, sir."
