He woke up in the dark, feeling warm and sleepy, but excited too.
His mind woke him, yet again, with thoughts of his upcoming visit from his Mistress. He had been dreaming, dreaming of being tied and helpless, and of being touched all over with hands, stroking, caressing. He dreamed that his Mistress had given him the pleasure of being touched by so many hands, all over him, his body covered in oil, soft hands sliding on his skin. As he reached the point in his dream where he would normally have to beg his Mistress to let him cum, he woke up, in the darkness.
Hard and throbbing, his body pushing against the sheets instinctively in his sleep, seeking release. He did not touch himself, just focused on the feel of the sheets upon his bare skin, and imagined in his half dream state, what he would do if his Mistress would let him touch her. He imagined pushing her down and fucking her, making her cum so hard that she would beg him for more. His excitement grew, this fantasy was making his pulse pound at the base of his cock, yet he knew that she would never beg him...
She would tell him, she would make him, but she would never beg him. The mere thought of turning the tables on her, made him blush with guilt for thinking it. If she knew, she would punish him for thinking it.
She would, oh, she would probably use the riding crop on him... quick stinging blows to drive the point home. Not many of them, but each one would count... His ass would be so red and hot from it, and he knew how much she would love doing it. Watching him try to twist away, soothing him, teaching him.
Oh, he wanted to, just once, feel how wet it got her to discipline him.. Maybe tonight, he would push that limit and see what she did. He fell back into sleep and darkness, dreaming about his Mistresses wetness and heat, his cock hard and heavy in his hand.
It had been a long day, trying to get through work without fucking up too much. He was distracted and unfocused, his mind was far from the job at hand. He had started watching the clock at around 2, counting the minutes until 5pm, when his evening would begin. He had been given his tasks, and he wanted to perform them well, to please his Mistress. He knew that later, he would push his luck and he wanted her in a good mood when he did. Finally, the clock reached 5, and he packed up his things and headed out the door.
Traffic was slow crossing town to his apartment, and he cursed as his stomach knotted in anticipation. When he pulled into the parking lot of his building, he really began to tremble, he was running way late. This was not boding well.
He locked the car and ran up the stairs to his apartment. He went in, locked the door, and stripped as he went down the hallway to his bathroom. He climbed into the shower, turning the water on very hot, and began to wash himself using the soap she liked. He used a loofah to make his skin soft, the way she told him to. Paying special attention to the places she liked to bite.
He washed his hair, tilting his head back and taking a few seconds to just feel the water running over his body, sluicing away the soap residues and the day's stress. He ran his hands down his body, enjoying the slick feel of his skin in the hot water, imagining her hands on him, her eyes on him.
He began to imagine that she was watching him shower, she liked to do that sometimes. He made every movement deliberately sexual, and was immediately aroused, he started to slide his hands down to cup his balls and to stroke the head of his cock, when he realized that he was not supposed to be touching himself this way, he was supposed to clean himself for her, all of himself, and not to take it any further until she was there to watch. She would be very unhappy with him for taking too long in the shower, when he was supposed to be getting ready for her.
He stuck his head out the curtain for a quick glance at the clock, SHIT, he had 45 minutes before she would get there, and he had a lot to do yet. He grabbed the bottle of shower gel and washcloth and began to wash himself in earnest, paying special attention to the areas around his balls and asshole, she would inspect him closely later. He rinsed it all off, and got out of the shower, dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist. The towel seemed so rough against the sensitive head of his cock, but he knew it was just his excitement that made it seem that way.
He went down the hallway, into his kitchen and got a bottle of wine out of the rack, putting it into a bucket to chill. He got down the wineglass she liked best and inspected it for any smears or marks, then placed it on a cocktail napkin by the bucket. He laid the corkscrew by the glass, parallel to the edge of the napkin.
He lit the candles and put away the matches, then got out the fruit and cheese that he knew she liked to nibble on. He arranged them on the tray that she liked, making sure every grape was perfect, washed, and not sticky. He made sure the cheese was arranged by flavor and not mixed together, and then he dipped the apple slices into 7-up to keep them from turning brown.
He loved to feed his Mistress, loved the way her mouth closed around the fruit, the way her teeth bit into the cheese. He loved it more when she would surprise him with a piece of fruit when he was bound and blindfolded, hands above his head and helpless. He could almost taste the juice of the fruit on her lips as she would kiss him, and make him her own.
He was almost done, he went around and closed all the blinds, straightened the furniture, and set out the towels and washcloths that she always wanted available.
The clock said that he had 4 minutes left, he went into the bedroom and removed the towel, and put on the piece of fabric that she liked for him to wear. He returned to the living room with only seconds to spare, and knelt down on the rug that she had designated for him. He placed his knees 2 feet apart, with his hands laid flat upon his thighs, and tilted his head, looking down at the floor as instructed. Then he remembered that he had locked the door, he got up, ran to the door, unlocked it and ran back to get back into position. Not a minute later, she walked in.
He could hear her opening the door, brusquely closing it, and taking her coat off. She put down her purse and opened the bag that she had brought with her, digging around for the collar that she would put on him. She walked over to him and just looked at him. He was quiet and waiting, and so beautiful this way, with his head down and his skin freshly scrubbed. She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair, grabbing some and pulling his head up so that she could see his face. His lips were full, and she wanted to kiss them, to suck them, to bite them... but she refrained, they had all night.
