I will be at your front door 10am slut. Be dressed in only your pink polka dotted bra and panties. Open the door on your knees.
I looked at the phone, an expression of disbelief crossed my face. My breathing turned quick and sharp. My heart palpitating, like it was desperate to escape my chest.
Although the text came up with an unrecognized number, I instantly recognized the crude language to be Shauns. Only he would have the cocky audacity to speak to me in his manner.
After his humiliation and degradation during his blackmail the previous week, I had not heard anything from him. I had naively assumed the ordeal was over and Shaun wised up to the error of his ways. I could not have been more wrong.
As long as I wished to keep my relationship with Matt I would be Shauns' slut. His slut to use. His slut to abuse. His slut.
Shaun was a smart guy. He had asked around as to where my boyfriend worked and what were his hours. Matt worked in the hospitality industry which translated in long days and late nights. This left me plenty of alone time available. Time I would now be using to service my new owner.
I battled in my mind whether or not to respond to the text. Appeal to Shauns' mercy. I was scheduled to work at exactly that time. A detail Shaun had obviously failed to take into account.
I wondered if I could risk leaving. Not be home to watch his anger in the face of my disobedience. It was a big risk. Tantalizingly tempting. But not one I could not afford to take.
I called work and faking my most pathetic sick voice I declared a sudden onset of illness. My boss sympathized with me. I had a good work ethic. Rarely took advantage of my allocated sick days. She came to her own conclusion that it must be pretty serious. She assured me I could take all the time I need to make a full recovery. I was grateful for her respect and compassion.
I hung up the phone. The time read 9:45am. I looked at myself trying to come to terms with my reality now. I was an on call whore. An real on call whore. An fucking real on call whore.
I repeated that sentence to myself again and again. On call whore. This is me now - my new reality.
No matter what my plans were if Shaun needed me, my life ceased to exist. It was his needs. His needs above all else.
And right now he needed his slut in a polka dotted panty set. A set I had not worn since he had been my regular fuck buddy. I went into frenzy mode. Striped down to the nude. Rummaged through my draws looking for the specific undergarments he had requested.
With a sigh of relief I found the buried pair and slipped them on. I detected a faint smell of the perfume I used to wear. It was his favorite. I had brought the perfume to wear for him. I smiled at the memory. We had such fun sexy times together. How did it come to this?
The 10am alarm I had set on my mobile began its annoying incessant beeping . I knew the time had come. I unlocked the front door and got down on my knees. I knelled there waiting for the humiliating abuse I was sure would come. Although the adrenalin had kept me going up until this point, waiting on my knees behind that door, I was forced to recognize the position I was in.
Yet again I was to be fucked by someone who was not my boyfriend. I was cheating on him and it wouldn't be the last time. He didn't deserve me as his girlfriend. He deserved better. The tears welled up in my eyes and silently ran down my face as I struggled to contain myself.
The time clicked by. The clock read 10:30am. The carpet began irritating my sore knees. Maybe he was not coming? Was I to assume this had all been a tease? A joke?
I gave rest to my tired limbs and sat cross-legged on the floor. My mind raced with the possibilities. The tiny sliver of hope that this would all go away began to grow. I made an quick executive decision to get up. Pretend the morning had been some form of a waking nightmare. It was time to step out of it. Return to normal life.
