I had spent most of the weekend doing chores, waiting for Mistress to return from a weekend touchy feely department thing from her school department. As directed, I was doing the dishes, vacuuming, generally cleaning and doing the laundry, all while dressed as Mistress wanted to see me; in her panties, with a lightweight chain connecting my nipple piercings. I was directed to wear clamps while vacuuming and doing the dishes.
Mistress had me take occasional photos and send them to her phone. When she called at lunchtime, she gave me some additional instructions:
"Put in your plug, slut. I want you to spend the rest of the afternoon stretching yourself for me. I'm soaking wet at the thought of fucking my bitch when I get done with this shit." And then she was off to the afternoon session.
I knew that she was serious; she really hated gatherings like the one she was at, so she'd have some shit to work off when she got home. I wanted to make sure that all was clean and prepped before she got here. Hell, I had to make sure.
I love suffering for Mistress, but not failing her. I slipped in the plug, the one she had been training me with, and pulled her thong back up tightly into my ass, holding it in tight.
I was glad I had finished all the outside chores, I would have been self-conscious working outside with it in place, it certainly made walking a little...different.
I had just finished the last of my chores when the alarm I had set went off. 6 o'clock. She'd be leaving the seminar any minute. She might call, she might not.
In fact, since she liked trying to surprise me with something unfinished, she probably wouldn't call unless she was hungry, in which case...
Ah, the cell phone. Indeed, she was hungry, she said she'd be home in about 45 minutes, she wanted a bottle of wine to go with dinner.
"What kind of wine will go with tonight's dinner, baby?" she giggled. Damn. I didn't actually have that worked out, I was figuring to come up with it if she called. As I dashed towards the fridge, I made some mental calculations and realized I had only one choice, given the time. "My love, I was thinking of some of that spicy chicken sausage and, um, some . . . noodles (whew, I do have some) with whatever veggie suit's your fancy," was my hurried response.
"Ha! You haven't worked it out, yet, have you? Gotcha, wifeyboy!" She was out and out laughing, now. I had to agree as I chuckled along with her.