The phone woke her at 2:48 a.m. She rolled over, grabbing for the fucking thing which was singing La Vita Loca.

Russ’s ringtone.

They’d been fighting off and on now for 3 fucking days. He was gone,  gone to Denver nearly a week ago.  She was so tired of the drama. They’d not spoken in 5 hours…so why the fuck did he need to call, continue the drama now?

“What?” her voice was husky from the tears she’d shed when she’d laid down attempting sleep.

“Put your hand on your right tit.”


“Quiet.” His voice, far from the anger-filled tones of earlier, was quiet, but oh-so-firm.

She stopped talking.

“We’ve lost something along the way, pet.”

The way he said pet always sent a shiver down her belly, a shiver that landed at that deep vee between her thighs. They’d not had any time for D/s play in…forever. Maybe that’s what had gone wrong.

“I’m taking it back. Now. I gave you an order; your fucking hand had better be on your tit, pet.”

“Yes, Sir” her voice had softened, sweetened. “my hand is on my right tit, Sir.”

“Good, pet. I want you to caress my tit for me. Softly, let your hand glide up and around it. Feel how firm that flesh is, how it craves my hand on it.”

Her breathing picked up, deeper, faster. She knew he could hear it through the phone. There was silence as she explored her breast at his prompts. Push, pull, swirl. She felt the cold deadness of her pussy melt away at His touch.

“pinch your hard pink nipple for me now pet. It is hard for me, isn’t it?”

“yes Master,” her voice  was breathy, and so obviously turned-on.

“good, pet, pinch it hard, as hard as I would if I was standing over you.”

“Yes, Master” and she squeezed the fat little bulb of flesh hard enough to squeal painfully into the phone.  “oh, hurts, hurts”


“thank you Sir, thank you.” and the tears began anew.

“Whose tit are you are touching?”

“Yours, Master.”

“And whose nipple is being so skillfully squeezed with my pain?”

“Yours, Master.” her voice was hushed, submissive, husky with the growing need his touch stirred in her.

“Open your legs, wide, pet.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Don’t you fucking dare stop pinching that bud.”

“nosirnosir..” she was quick to respond, renewing her grasp on her quite painful nipple.

“good pet. Time to go hands-free on the phone…I have plans for your other hand now.”

There was a faint scrabble of sound, then the soft humm as the phone went to speaker mode.

“Good pet. Now, reach down between those legs; touch that swollen button. The one you like me to bite as I pull the chain between your tits, the one you like me to slap over and over with my hand.”

Her breathing became ragged, and He knew, that even without touching yet,  she was coming close to her release.

“Touch.” His voice was harsh, hard.

“yessir” her breath rasped in her throat as she responded to His voice, to the pain  he wove  around her body, connecting pussy and tit. “Yes, Sir” as her body shifted, accepting the pleasure play, the hard little flicks, the soft rubbing of her fingers across her engorged clit.

She was so close. So close.

“Please, Master.”

“not desperate enough.”

PLEASE,  Master…pleaseplease—-i–i–please?”

“I am not sensing desperate  need here, pet.How can I believe you are as needy as you say? I don’t hear it…I don’t believe it.  You know what I think?”

Her breathing was almost violent now. “What, Sir?”

“Careful pet….”

“Sorry, Sir,” she all but sobbed.

“I think you need a nice hard cock in that needy hole of yours.”

There was a sound at the doorway, and the snap of the hallway light switch clicking on, spilling its incandescent glow into the room. She stared. Shocked. Amazed. Thrilled.

He was home. Not in Denver.


She was filled, even before he came into the bed.