“Does your blouse have buttons on it, slut?”

my back is to the cam, he can’t -doesn’t want to- see me yet. i’m to do a striptease for Him,  my first time on-cam. His first time not seeing stills. i’m sweating, nervous.

“no, Sir”  my voice, that same voice that my boys can hear from 2 blocks away has fallen away, down into the rabbit’s hole. Or maybe down into my slut-hole. it’s quiet, soft, maybe barely audible.

“Hmmmm”  His voice is thick, rich. He has no trouble being heard.

“Bring your hands to your sides, crossed, slut, and grab the bottom of your cami then.”

“Goood…” His breathing changes. Just a bit, but i hear it. Back still to him, i smile just a bit. Good, indeed. i too have some power here.

“Now, lift that cami up over your head, slut, but slowly. Got that? Slowly.” He drawls the word out, like he’s talking to a child. Maybe he sees me that way, child-like in my submission.

Slowly, barely an inch at a time, i pull upwards. i feel the air of the room swirl around me as the fan whirrs. It’s hot up here in my attic room, but i don’t feel that  heat, only the forge-fire of my pussy as i seep for Him.

The cami passes my shoulders, my braid pulls upwards, then pops free to land on my back. The straps come away from me now, rising up, as my head is enveloped in teal cotton. i lift and then, am free of it. Crooking one wrist, negligently, i flick it away, as if shooing a fly.

His snort of laughter appeals to me, and i grin.

“Slut, look at me now.”

i turn and look over my shoulder at Him. He is smiling, Good, good, i think again.

“Reach up and take out that braid of yours. I want to see that hair free.”

i turn just the smallest fraction, and bring my arms up and over my shoulders.  He is getting the slightest view of my big tit, nipple drawn-up and hardened by the need in me. 

“hmmmmmmm” i  hear him say, as i begin to unfasten the braid, unweaving it and finger combing it free. Long twisting tendrils coil down my back, tickling and teasing me in the passage of wind from the hard-working fan.

“Yesssssss, such a lovely slut you are, aren’t you, fuckgirl?”

i shiver at his words, driving me, tying me in my need as surely as if  He was using a hemp rope.

At his word, i work down my skirt, the zipper relaxing, gap-mouthed over my hip, until gravity pulls the thin cotton down to pool at my feet. I feel him looking at me,  drinking me in.

“I see it.”   His voice comes after many minutes of wordlessness. Not silence, not with his breath heavy through the monitor, my breath ragged in my own ears.  i wonder what he is referring to. My round ass is clearly visible, my full breast, in three-quarter profile also viewable from His vantage. i shiver, waiting, trembling with my need.

“Yesssssssssss……”  He drawls, his voice harsh, husky with his need to see all of me, be inside all of me, to possess all of me….

“I see it, slut.”

i am bare, naked, exposed, vulnerable.

of course He sees. i look over my shoulder, daring to face the Monster in Him, eye to eye.  His gaze roams my face, returns to my body. i see his eyes drinking me in.

“I see……”  His habit of drawing out his conclusions not annoying this time, creating an upswelling of need deep inside my cunt. i can feel the oozing of my need, slipping past my pussylips, and beginning to slither down my leg, like the snake from the Garden, revealing my secrets to Him, tantalizing us both with the slick silvery trail of my lust.

“Yesssssssss……hmmmmmmmm”  and i know He has seen even more, and that somehow, in the seeing, has taken my power, taken my need, taken me,  made me….

i know what He sees when He looks at me.