Monday is never for orgasms, not anymore. (insert sad sigh)

So, imagine my surprise when I checked my phone while wifey was bathing the kids, to find a text from Master

I’ve had a change of ‘hard’ for Writing Day 


OHBOY! Could it mean? Maybe? or…was it a trap? Another of those dreaded half-orgasms, where i must drive myself to the very brink…and deny myself the fulfillment of cumming…?

He wouldn’t.

finger/lip  finger/lip   finger/lip

Well, of course He would…He’s a fucking SADIST!

I send a reply, something about “oh, really?” …very innocuous…

and push it to the back of my mind, so I can go off and watch Chef Ramsey”s annihilation  of the Blue Team…but as soon as I get up here, I come and check my messages. I read His text, and send a reply “I am up in my room if you want me to call”

And quicker ‘n spit, He texts back, “Call”…

I lay back thinking happy thoughts. I love our Monday night calls; He is driving home from a late work night, and I can talk for 30 minutes or more to Him, keeping Him company.

“You got my message? My change of hard?”

“Yes Master!”

“You have your toy out?”

“No…I” confused, confuddled… toy? what toy is He talking about?

“Well, where the fuck is it?”

“My toybox Master…Master, I didn’t get any text…about…” I stammer…

“I sent you a text. To call…that was half an hour ago!”

“But Master… I just got up here and …”

“Shut up nilla. Get your toy. Your favorite fucking dildo. Go. Hurry, Get it NOW…hurry up, hurry, hurry…”

He is firing off orders at a rapid pace, confusing me further. I bend under my hiding place, grabbing frantically for the dildo, all the while stammering “Yes Master, I’m trying, I’m getting it…”

and I can hear the impatience in His voice…omg…Where did that text go, where the fuck is my dildo…finally grasping it and sitting up with it…

“GOT it! Master, I have it!”

“At fucking last. Put it on your belly, Go on, hurry up…. are you doing it? C’mon, c’mon slut…”

I blink, and lay it on my belly.

“Are you laying down?”

“Yes Sir, I just kicked off my shorts, and am laying here with my pink dildo on my belly…”

“Good, good. Good slut.”

There is a pause.

“Now, doesnt’ that feel good?”

I think I must have missed something. I stutter, but make no sound. I can’t seem to make a word come out. I am making some mouth-flailing sounds…He has rendered me fucking speechless…again. Twice in one week!

He laughs. Full, rich belly laugh. He is so fucking delighted with Himself.

“M…M…Master….” You all who know me, know I don’t stutter.  “M.m.m.m.aster…?”

“Ah, so nice to give your dildo time out of the pussy to rest and breathe, eh? Oh, you didn’t think you were going to use  it nilla? It’s writing day, slut.”

And He laughs. I’m still kind of stunned. Totally and completely mindfucked.

He is the Master.


round two, point goes to Master.