Three hours after I added my post, Master called.
“How are you today?”
“Not good,” I said, my voice soft and subdued. I’m usually upbeat, laughing and teasing. As I relate to you our phone call, I’m still quiet.
“You’re doing good to make it fifteen days.”
“It’s all I ask.”
“Pinch your nipple, roll that tit in your hand. Pinch your right breast. Harder. You’re not going to break it. Now the left nipple.”
Not too long afterward, he hung up, leaving me horny, but my mind had settled because I got to talk to Master.
Not being allowed to come, I am depressed. If I go silent, picture me pacing the house, exercising a lot, curled up in a ball unable to sleep. And I’ll either gorge on chocolate or stop eating altogether.