Introduction: although my Master is a woman, She has requested me to call Her Master and not Mistress.
Tonight's the night.
The thought gave me delicious chills, apprehension, anxiety, a thrilling fear.
Fear? Yes, fear, that was sexual in the most basic way, a kind of fear that started a pulse between my thighs.
Usually, I'm impatient, self-willed, and stubborn. But today, I'm full of patience, completely content, and willing and waiting to serve Her.
The hours before she was supposed to arrive were filled with preparation: my body, my hair, my make up, my room, my mind, everything must be absolutely perfect for Her. I found everything I thought She'd want for tonight and laid it across my dresser. She had told me to be waiting for her naked, except for my beautiful collar. I took it out and caressed it lovingly, the sign of my servitude, before putting it on.
I'd worn it many times before, playfully, but never had it carried the significance of tonight. Because tonight was when I gave Her complete and total power. Anything and everything She wanted would be Hers -- including me, in any and every way. Giving her control felt so right to me, so in tune with what I was feeling. This was extremely odd, given that I am generally a control freak. But this was all-new and encompassing. To willingly submit myself wholly and completely to another, not knowing what She would do.. the pulsing in my clit grew more insistent at the thought.
Although I had been granted permission to cum, I refused. Trying to embrace my role as a total submissive more completely, I ignored my pussy, even though as the minutes ticked by it became more and more wet in anticipation. I was new at this, but already I was feeling the satisfaction described by so many other slaves that comes from serving your Master well. I knew without any doubts that this was what I wanted.
Finally, I hear Her coming down the stairs. My heart races up into my throat as I walk out to meet Her. My beautiful, amazing, perfect Master, my whole world. She greets me, looking me up and down in satisfaction. I can tell how pleased She is, and my heart beats harder in accomplishment. She reaches out and takes me into Her arms, kissing me hard, pushing me against the wall, leading me to the bedroom. I revel at Her touch, the newfound insistence in Her grip, the aggression in Her stride, and I am aware of how wet I am again. Any fear I had disappears at Her kiss, replaced by a warmth and an excitement. I already desperately want Her to take me, to fuck me, to ensure I know I am Hers. But again I ignore it, turning to focus upon pleasing Her, and nothing else.
She has me climb on top of Her, and I kiss Her passionately, exploring Her neck and chest with my lips as Her hands grip my ass and smack it playfully. I lift up Her shirt and continue my exploration over Her stomach. She seems so pleased with my servitude that I almost cry out in grateful delight.
I can hardly believe it when She doesn't object as I start to pull Her jeans off. She knows how bad I want Her pussy in my mouth. I have the sweetest, most giving and generous Master in the world, I muse, as She lets me pull them down over Her long, sexy legs.