Sliding my tired body into the hot water, I leaned back in the tub and opened the message icon on my phone. I was bathing a bit earlier than usual Monday night. Four a.m. Tuesday morning would arrive long before I was ready. Sadly not getting up at that time wasn’t an option.
My sister’s kidney stone surgical procedure was booked for seven-thirty the next morning. However, we had to be there by five-thirty, and I needed to inform Master of my schedule.
By eight Tuesday morning, Master’s text came through. We messaged back and forth a few times and then he instructed, “Find a quiet place to call me.”
I glanced around the waiting room. To my left empty chairs lined the wall beside me all the way toward the sliding glass doors about fifteen feet away, admitting patients and their family members. Beyond the doors was a lobby. To my right an alcove and concrete column supporting the building blocked my view of the waiting area on the other side. My line of sight in front of me tracked no farther right than the concrete obstruction. All but two chairs of the dozen within my view across from me, were empty. A man and his wife sat with their backs to me.
This was the perfect quiet spot, I thought and called Master.
“Squeeze your pussy.” It was his reply to my “Good morning, Sir.” He asked about my sister, how much I had needed him from the email I sent over the weekend, and he asked what I was wearing.
It’s a common question. Instead of the jubilant feeling I get when he normally asks, I’m usually in bed or working at my desk, I was a bit confused. I’m either wearing only my collar if I’m still in bed or a skirt with no top or dress, following the protocols he’s established.
I replied, “Capris and tank top and bra.”
Silence filled the phone for a heartbeat, and my thoughts immediately flew to wondering if he was upset I put on a bra. Undergarments are not allowed, but he lets me wear a bra when I go to places I absolutely need to. A hospital was one of those necessary places to my way of thinking. Then he said, “Place your hand on your thigh near your pussy.”
“Yes, Sir,” I whispered. My gaze darted around the room. People streamed through the doorway in the lobby and moved to the elevators or walked down the opposite hall and around the corner. But I didn’t hesitate to follow his command.
Speaking with Master turns me on. His deep voice is smooth like caramel and whiskey. His training has been thorough. I’m always horny, wet, ready to be used in whatever way he deems appropriate.
“Clench your pussy,” he stated, again. “Rub your fingertips over your clit. Squeeze and relax your cunt.” I slightly moved my legs apart and touched my clit through the thin cotton material. Our conversation continued, normal discussion for a few moments while I obeyed him. Then it changed, became sensual, sexual. I listened to his quiet voice, his words, his commands. “You’d love to filled with a big, black cock wouldn’t you? To be allowed to come all over it.”
“Yes, Sir.” My breath hitched, and I swallowed the heavy breath, threatening to erupt from my parted lips. Master didn’t say, “let me hear you breathe,” as he always does. I am grateful for that.
My pussy grew wetter and my clit throbbed at his words. My clithood piercing poked through my outer labia. The friction between my hand and the cotton fabric spiked my need. Even though I’d been up over four hours and had endured the constant and annoying drone of news anchors and the weather forecasters on hurricane Dorian blaring from the TV on the far wall of the waiting room, the slut in me instinctively awakened, chasing away most of my grogginess. I was ready to please my Master.
“Think about lying on your bed, your legs spread wide, your sister eating your pussy while I fuck her cunt from behind. In and out. Rub your fingers across your clit. Imagine it’s her tongue moving back and forth, covering your clit, sucking it into her mouth as I pound into her, harder, deeper.”
I stifled a moan of need.
“Undo the button on your capris. Slide your hand inside.”
“What?” That comment brought me out of my lust-filled fog. I glanced around the room again, this time I paid attention to my surroundings. Out in the hall, people entered from the garage crosswalk. A huge cluster formed in front of the elevator doors as they waited to be taken up or downstairs. An elderly couple sat on the bench in the lobby waiting for family to arrive. The couple less than ten steps sitting in front of me spoke as he filled out his admitting paperwork.
“I can’t,” I stated. Then remembered my pants had an elastic waistband. I told Master, and he again commanded me to slide my hand inside my pants. I searched the area once more, pulled the oversized button up shirt I had brought with me to keep me warm over my lap, and obeyed.
“Rub it back and forth.”
My sleep deprived brain, didn’t really comprehend a lot of Master’s words. I didn’t really need to. He controls my body, and it responds without the need for thought. I guess because I was so tired, the panic that normally sets in acting on his instructions in public didn’t materialize.
My aggravation with Master over him wanting to fuck my sister did, but that’s a different subject, and one he knows my feelings on. But I also rationalized he owns me, wants to own me. He’s not replacing me with her. I let those thoughts go, centered my attention on Master and his desires, and let him take me where he willed.
In hushed tones, I stated, “Yes, Sir,” to every comment and command he gave.
“Come,” he said, all too soon, and again, not soon enough.
The tight leash Master had pulled my body into broke. Small tremors wracked me while my pussy spasmed in release. All the while Master spoke. What he said isn’t important, except he wanted me to feel slutty, and his slave did; and some of his statements I don’t even remember. How he takes care of his slave is.
After we disconnected, I searched the room. No one had noticed or heard. I focused on the euphoria I always experience when coming for Master and let go of the niggling worry in the back of my mind over masturbating in public. A calm slid over me.
The thought that I came in a hospital waiting room with people nearby heightened my elation. While his commanding of my body was only a blip in my day, those moments were the highlight, the best part and meant more than I have words to express.
Thank you, Master.