The alarm strikes seven and buzzes to life. My mind tosses and turns and will not throw off its fantasies, I refuse to wake up. Baron, handsome, tall, with broad shoulders and a thick head of short brown hair, pushes me down on the bed. He stares into my eyes and I feel my heart flutter. But the distracting familiar buzz of my alarm draws my eyes briefly away.
Baron does not care, he pulls my chin up with his hand and he kisses me. And his tongue forces my mouth open, he takes command and he gropes me and my pussy pulses and clenches to his gentle teases. We kiss and ignore the painful buzzing of my alarm.
At long last, Baron will give me what I want: He parts me legs and pushes his amazing cock into me. My wet pussy swallows it all. I am ready for him. I am always wet and ready for him. It feels better than I ever could have imagined. The ribs on its length, the veins, I feel every little bump and groove inside me. And I scream as he pushes in, pulls out, and caresses my pussy with his glorious cock. He grasps both of my breasts and tugs them and squeezes them. He is rough. He kneads them like dough. Though a little pain shoots through me, my nipples do not lie, they harden for him without a second thought. He also kisses down my stomach, and runs his hands up the insides of my smooth thighs. The tingling overtakes my body. He licks at my clitoris, and... Aah... how many hands do men have again? Or tongues? Or cocks?
Ooh, fuck it. He shoves a cock inside of my arse, and a third inside of my mouth, while he flicks mischievously at my twitching clitoris, and the budding orgasm within me feels about to bloom.
But there it is, in the back of my mind, that infernal buzzing. It takes me from the crest of my arousal. With a thousand hands, master runs them over me, igniting lust from every sensitive spot. The way he strokes my neck, my thighs, my breasts and my nipples, the valley between, my ears, my lips, it all serves to frustrate me and make me toss and turn and beg for that orgasm to sweep me away to a land where there is no teasing, no denial, no waiting and certainly no alarms buzzing insufferably in my ear!
But, oh, I am not granted a release just yet. Baron seeks to continue his endless tease, bringing down a barrage of flicks against my clitoris. I squirm and try to bring the folds of my pussy up against him, but he skulks away, and licks become kisses against my bare pelvis. And I breathlessly whimper.
He invades my nether region again with his cock. And this time, I am certain to cum. I want it. I need it. My eyes scrunch and I grind against him and press my head down hard into the pillow and I pull it up to protect myself from that annoying, endless buzzing!
I can ignore it no longer. I reach out and shut it off.
---
And it's gone, I am awake and my naughty dreams are only fantasies once again. A new day begins.
Out of my room and down the hallway, ever so gently I open the door to Master Baron's room and peer in. He sleeps peacefully and cosy. His companion--I don't know what to call her--but she sleeps tightly next to him, wrapped in his loving embrace. I wish that were me; but master has forsaken me for so long, ignored me and made me sleep in my own room. Her pussy is doubtlessly filled with his thick and delicious sperm, while mine remains filled only with a rubber phallus, locked away from me by the unyielding shield of a steel chastity belt, protecting me from a fun night. My chest remains locked behind a matching chastity bra, and I complete the look with a metal collar around my neck, locking wrist and ankle cuffs too. All to mark me as his slave girl.
In the last six months I have only had two orgasms. Once on my birthday, where my master, Baron, allowed me a ruined orgasm with a the vibrator he keeps inside me at all times, and once more on New Year's Eve, where master promised to give me a full and satisfying orgasm if I could resist just one whole hour of teasing. Like a shameless slut, I came when he tugged on my nipple no more than five minutes into the session and he made sure to take his hands off of me and ruin that one as well...
I skulk away from the door and head downstairs. I must make breakfast for my master and his lover. I cannot stop thinking about how pretty she is. Master did not let me meet her last night. He confined me to my room before he brought her inside.
While breakfast cooks, I remember that I must also shine master's shoes today. He's meeting with a very important client. Today he must reach an agreement on a deal worth twenty five million pounds. If he does, he will be paid a generous sum of money, but if he fails his job may be on the line. It is this work as a businessman that pays for this multimillion pound home and all of the other luxuries my master enjoys, even me.
---
My work is exhausting. And there is always more that I can do. I cooked master's breakfast, and shined his shoes. But I also waxed and vacuumed his car, and went over his coat with a lint roller. All that I can do now is wait, on my knees, for master to awake, arrive downstairs and offer his approval. Or punishment.
Master is a proud and powerful man, always stood upright, so tall and manly. I cannot hide the lust I feel for him. His eyes lock onto mine, as he walks, and I feel my heart break when he looks away, even though it's only for a moment to lead his companion to his side. She is a beautiful, freckled redhead with green eyes. She is fit and wears a tight T-shirt over a pair of lacy panties. Her eyes latch onto me.
"You weren't kidding, Baron. You have your own little slave girl."
"This is Immy, my drycleaner. Or rather, my ex-drycleaner. Now, as you can see, she's my chaste little slave. Immy, this is Ginger, we went on a date last night as you know."
Ginger looks to me like so many do, with distrust and disgust. She hides it better than most, but she cannot hide her discomfort of this situation.
"Hello, Immy. It's nice to meet you." Her voice rattles.
Master approaches to check my work, to see if I need a punishment or not, and I dare not answer Ginger before he is done. But he pats my head, and I do not let out a sigh of relief--though I very much want to.
"Your pathetic little slave is so grateful to have such a kind master. And she is so happy to meet your sex partner too."
"Immy?" Ginger asks me. She is rightly confused. Master seems eager to explain.
"Immy's prohibited from referring to herself by name, or by first-person pronouns when speaking. Now, let's have breakfast. Would you like Immy to join us?"
She looks down at me, but her neutral expression becomes one of slight confusion. She didn't know it was an option to say no, but now she thinks about it. She dislikes this situation, but her brief moment of hesitation veils her thoughts from me. Will she tell me to leave them be?
"It's okay if she eats with us." Ginger meekly replies.
I stand and take my seat. I watch master between bites as always. It is my job to make him happy in all aspects, I must be attentive. If I fail to make him happy, I am given a deserving punishment. He watches Ginger while he eats. And yet, she watches me.
"I'm sorry, Baron, I thought I'd be okay with this..." She moans. There is a distinct flare of frustration plain on her face. "Why should I go on another date with you when I'm always going to be competing with her for your attention?" She asks him.
"You wouldn't be competing with Immy. I admit that I've had sex with her, but only anal sex to pleasure myself while denying her orgasms. That's all it is, I masturbate using her body. If you and I were to date, I would be faithful to you. I wouldn't need you to ask me to stop using Immy in such a way to deny her my cock entirely."
She lays her eyes on me again while Baron still watches her. I dare not move, even to glance over at her.
"Why is she your slave?"
"Immy was my drycleaner, as I explained. Six months ago, she ruined a ten thousand pound suit, and I offered her the option to either pay me the money to replace the suit, or to become my slave for one year. Since she couldn't afford to buy a new suit, she agreed to the latter. And now, she serves me in all things."
Ginger thinks it over for a moment. Something is eating away at her, and we all know what she wants.
"I think I'm just going to go." Ginger tells him. She begins to stand up.
"I understand. Allow me to drive you home. Immy bring my car around to the front."
"Would you allow your slave to put on some clothes first, master?" Shit, why did I ask that?! I know I'm not allowed to ask that.
There is no emotion on my Master's face, but I know he must be fuming and disappointed in equal measure. He takes me by the hand and leads me past the dining table to the living area. He unlocks my chastity belt and forces me down onto my knees, parted widely.
"Rub yourself." He demands. This is always hard, but I obey his command willingly.
"Ten percent." I declare. My fingers explore my pussy frantically. What should be a liberating feeling, an explosive relief to months of torture, teasing and denial is naught but another torment. One I have experienced too many times.
"Baron, what's she doing?"
"Thirty percent."
Master does not answer her. He burns his eyes into my flesh. But I feel Ginger's eyes on me also. My dirty fingers plunge into my wet pussy and the erotic sounds thunder out in perfect harmony to the pounding of my heart that rings through my entire body. With each thump my fingers explore more. With each thump those lewd sounds turn me on even more.
"Sixty percent. Seventy five."
No way, this is going so fast. I can't--Aah... It's been so long, I could never have gotten this far along so fast before--Aah...
"Ninety percent. Master, please!"
"Keep going Immy."
"Ninety five. Ninety six... Ninety nine! Please!"
"Hold it for ten seconds."
