“Go out on your deck,” Sir commanded.
A few seconds later, I answered, “I’m here,” as I stepped onto the cool wood slats.
“Find a chair and put your phone down and take off your dress. Sit.”
I set my phone on the cushion and searched the neighborhood ensuring I was alone. Houses lined both sides of the street, climbing up the steep hill behind me. To my left, circling the slope and pond was another subdivision. A row of townhomes stood to my right. Decks and porches from every home faced mine.
Warm sunlight bathed me. I was exposed. And not alone.
I blinked to make sure the man, his back toward me, wasn’t a mirage. Nope, still there. My pussy softened, moisture coated my labia, and my cunt contracted. The thud of my heartbeat and roar of blood rushing through my ears drowned out birdsong, scuffling dogs, rushing traffic. Now or never. I pulled the dress over my head, dropped it to the seat, and sat.
“Squeeze that plug,” Sir commanded.
“Yes, Sir.” The man didn’t move. Oh, how I wanted him to turn, search out my voice, and find me naked, legs open, waiting for Sir’s next command.
“Stroke your pussy,” Sir stated. “Up and down. Now, around that fuckhole.”
“Yes, Sir.” I closed my eyes, my head fell back on my shoulders.
“Fuck the opening. Just the opening. Do not put your finger inside.”
A whine drowned out my moan of pleasure. I eyed the neighbor. He leaned forward. My heartbeat hammered, hoping he’d finally heard me. Sun reflected off his cell phone. I closed my eyes once more and tuned him out, reveling in Sir’s soul-searing tone.
“Take that pussy juice and rub it on your clit. Tighten your ass around that plug.” Silence ensued, suspended in limbo, I waited for his next command. “Finger your pussy, rub your clit, rock your hips just a bit.” He fired off words in rapid succession.
“The person who owns you is the person who controls your orgasms, isn’t that right, bitch?” A subtle nudge. I tensed.
A maestro, Sir orchestrated the movement of my fingers, the undulating of my hips, the ragged breaths sawing in and out of my lungs.
“Who owns you?” His will enveloped and compelled.
Air refused to fill my lungs, and I became lightheaded. I swallowed. “You do, Sir,” I said on a breathless sigh.
The ties holding us together broke. I arched my back, clenched the butt plug, and my body convulsed.
“Get up. Walk over to the rail. Face the pond, ass toward the house.”
I stood. The guy on the deck did also. I waited. My pussy clenched, another orgasm gripped me. He dropped to the deck, never taking his eyes off his phone’s screen, and then inspected the plants in the container by his feet.
Turning my attention to Sir’s task, I walked to the rail. A car door closed. “Yes, Sir. I’m here,” I said as the neighbor directly behind us, climbed on her deck, stepped to the door, inserted her keys, unlocked it, and went inside. I stood maybe thirty feet directly across from her, but in the middle of three subdivisions, not a sole noticed me.
“Bend over. Let your tits hang over the side.”
“Yes, Sir.” Weeping willow limbs swayed in the light breeze. The crisp scent of water reached my nose. I flicked my gaze right and left. The trail, gazebo, and lawns were empty.
“Grip that plug.”
“Tighter. Get up on your toes. Rub your clit.” He barked his orders swift and sure. “Clench your ass. Press on the rail. Harder.” He bound me to him with his dominion.
“Come.” My mouth fell open on a silent scream. My body jerked, my pussy tightened and loosened. I gripped the plug, and my insides shuddered and thrashed like a fish out of water.
“Walk around the deck. Along the perimeter.”
It took me a moment to understand Sir had spoken, let alone his mandate. “Yes, Sir.” I stepped, slow and measured, turned, stepped, turned, and came back to my starting point.
“Again.” I hadn’t completed the task before he directed, “Go back to the rail. Up on your toes. Higher. Now.”
I scrambled into place. Leaned over, lifted onto my tiptoes. A ballerina couldn’t stand any higher.
I gripped my cell phone with one hand and the rail with the other. The walls of my pussy writhed. The orgasm went on and on. The ecstasy amplified knowing someone could be watching me.
“You don’t care sees you, do you?” Sir asked as another orgasmic quake heaved through me.
“No, Sir.” My legs trembled, and I locked my knees to keep from falling.
“Take a deep breath.”
I hadn’t realized air whistled in and out of my heaving lungs until Sir told me to slow my breathing.
“Relax your legs; lower your feet to the floor.”
“Yes, Sir.” My voice shook just as much as my strung-out body.”
“Do you have a chaise?”
“Get it.” Sir spoke as I opened the lounge chair and sat.
“I want you to sit there for the next fifteen minutes. Call into the chatline, get two men off. Let them know you’re sunbathing nude. After fifteen minutes, get up and go back inside just as you are right now. No clothes.”
He hung up. I lay there for a few minutes, slowing my breaths and gathering my thoughts, then called. One black man the other white. The slick slap of their strokes, their harsh breaths mingled with mine. Both came within minutes.
Strung out from being used as Master’s fuckmeat, I lay back, closed my eyes, and enjoyed the sun.