Time has slipped by. Rafe and I have, in turn, been traveling, sick, and stressed. During this time, understandably, our play has been a bit more subdued.
This weekend, we are apart, and I felt a longing for my master’s hand, his strictures, his orders.
How may this slave serve you from afar, sir? I texted him.
He asked what I proposed.
I replied, What would please my master? Masturbation? Some anal play? Nipple torture? What does my master fancy his slave doing to herself this week? What images would bring him pleasure and satisfaction?
He sent me the first of his plans – and my orders – for the week:
I have been thinking that I would like you to come twice this week. But I think we should build up to it.
Today I want you to masturbate for 2 minutes, without coming, twice. Separated by at least an hour.
You will not come today. We’ll repeat it tomorrow. If I’m satisfied, maybe tomorrow. If not, perhaps Monday.
Today, when you masturbate, do so with a finger up your ass and clothespins on your nipples. Both times. Send pictures.
Already I was wet with the anticipation of fulfilling my master’s orders. I did as I was told. The two minutes was an eternity. I felt on the verge of climax. But I knew to fight the desire to succumb, lest I be dealt my punishment for coming without permission.
I returned to my day as usual. A short nap. Some dinner. A bit of cleaning.
Then time for another session.
I had a little wine with my dinner, hoping that it might make the edge a bit more bearable. Again, I was already warming at the very thought of what I was about to do for my master.
With the placement of each clothespin on my nipples, I felt blood rush to my vulva and clitoris. I felt myself grow wetter. I sent my master the first picture.
I then applied lubricant to my anus. I coated a finger of my one hand, reached behind, and inserted into my rectum. I exhaled shakily, my desire intensifying.
I started the stopwatch on my phone and, kneeling on my bed, slipped my free hand between my legs. Engorged, slick, the first touch of my pussy felt like it might almost be enough to push me over the edge. The seconds ticked by. Slowly.
Thirty… I was dripping wet. Forty-five… Not even half way there. Sixty… Fingers dipping inside to move the stimulation away from my clit. Seventy-five… Would I be able to hold back? Ninety… So close. Fingers sliding effortlessly between my lips. I longed to come. I was desperate to come. But I also longed to meet my master’s demands.
Finally, the clock hit two minutes. I had made it.
As I removed my finger from ass, I feared that again that I might come. But I did not. I removed the clothespins. I collapsed onto the bed. Spent but electrified. Almost afraid that any move might be too much. A gentle rub of my previously pinned nipples sent another jolt to my cunt.
An hour later, I’m still dripping.
My master told me to expect assignments every day this week. I do not know what to expect. Perhaps more masturbation sessions with me struggling not to climax. Or perhaps orders to orgasm, maybe even more than once a day. I am certain that they will be challenging.
After outlining today’s assignments and promising more, my master closed:
Careful what you ask for, slave! You might get it.
Perhaps so. And yet I do so long to serve my master this way.
– The Elegant Submissive