Master’s treat for his slave

Master’s ringtone pierced the silence in the room. My heart quickened. My mind settled. My body taut ready for what instruction I might find when I opened his text.

Call me.

I set my coffee cup on the table beside me and muted the news show. I touched the call button, anticipation filling me as I waited impatiently to hear Master’s voice.

“Good morning, Sir,” I said. He likes me to address him as soon as the call goes through.

“I guess, I need to call you sick, don’t I?” he teased.

“Um, well, I, yes, I guess you do.” I am on another round of antibiotics. This time an ear infection that may or may not have been caused by the cartilage piercings I got last week. I’m hoping it’s not and I get to keep these. I told him the doctor’s diagnosis and what I believed also was a factor to the infection. He then gave me instructions for the day.

Recently Master and I have seen a shift in our relationship. My submissive side is growing. And I’m sinking deeper into submitting every facet of my life to him. It centers me and exacerbates worry and fear at the same time.

It took me a few tries to explain it to him clearly. When I finally did, his reply was, “Well said, bitch.”

For those who don’t live this type of life you won’t understand. And that’s okay. I do have my own life. I make daily decisions without him in my job, earn a living, pay bills, etc. However, Master is my life force. I give up every thought, need, desire, what happens with my body, what I wear, etc. to him. However, I finally explained to him last week some days when Master is busy with work, which is understandable, if I don’t hear his voice I’m lost. So, he said, he’d call me daily and give me some sort of instruction. Go to the gym and workout was yesterday’s command before I found out about my infection. I did walk instead of swimming, which is my normal routine.

This morning, he told me to do some pushups, sit-ups, and deep knee bends. The last one was special. “Go out on your deck sometime today and get some sun. For a half hour sit outside with only your skirt on and masturbate. Text me while you’re doing it. I need to keep tabs on my bitch.”

Any instruction Master gives me, allows me to focus. The last one is not only an instruction, but his way of taking care of me when he isn’t around.


Master knows what a slut I am. He knew it was good for me to sit there, houses behind me and to the left of me where anyone could come out on their decks and see me. A pond with a walking trail around it sits at the bottom of the hill to my right. Homes are scattered on the far side of the pond. Walkers use the trail as well as neighbors taking their dogs outside for some exercise and to do their business.

I sat in the chair, turned and faced the railing toward the pond, pulled my skirt to my waist, and opened my legs.

I lay my head back on the cushion and closed my eyes. I cleared my mind of worry someone would actually see me. I rid thoughts of editing, looking for another part-time job, needing to add to my income, my health issues, etc. I focused on Master. Obeying his command was the only thing that mattered. I recalled the sound of his voice. The tone he uses when he makes me come. For the next thirty minutes I would be Master’s fucktoy just pussy for him and nothing else.

I texted Master what I was about to do and then completed the action. I teased the clithood piercing, gliding my fingers over my labia, slow, soft just the way Master likes. I took my time, building my need, thinking of how much what I do brings pleasure to Master as well. I spread my pussy lips and used my middle finger to rub around my fuckhole. His dirty words echo in my mind.

“You touch your body when I give you permission, do you understand, cunt?” I slid my finger just inside the opening, gathering juices to spread from my pussy to my clit. “I own every inch of your white ass, bitch.” I played with myself, rocking my hips, squeezing my cunt, masturbating just the way Master desires. “You’re nothing but a fucking whore.” I tortured my clit until I was on the edge of orgasm and backed off. My pussy wept with hunger and need. At times, I slapped, caressed, and fingerfucked my pussy into a frenzy of need. Only to slow down, ease my fingers inside my body, my hips rising off the chair fucking myself. My pussy gripping the intrusive digits begging for more. For a half hour, I relished the treat Master gave me, allowing me to touch this body he owns. It was exquisite.

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