Tonight we talked…very briefly. He has work to do to prepare for a meeting tomorrow (yes, tomorrow, before we meet).
No O for nilla tonight.
Gods it’s been since Tuesday. I know for some subs that isn’t very long at all…but for this “spoiled slut”…it’s practically a lifetime. And that’s all *my* fault for reminding him on Sunday about this little “pause” in my O’s that He used to do when we first got together.
My family has gone on their mini-vacation, leaving me rattling around my house alone. It’s nice, actually. Quiet and peaceful and I have things to do and can do them at my own pace without interruptions. I texted Him when they left.
I was surprised to go up with laundry a bit later and find a response from Him.
Within the hour that they go, put your nipple clamps on for 11 minutes.
I did as He had directed, and texted Him when it was done. He didn’t respond, as I expected. But to me, it felt very much like a “now you’re fully Mine” gesture.
I went to work, and when I came home texted Him again. He responded when He could, but it was fairly quiet. Then I come back down from doing more “stuff” and there is another text from Master.
At 8 p.m. put pegs on your nipples for 11 minutes.
I text my “Yes, Sir” response, and another one when the task is done. And I’m so wanton. Wet, and ready.
After all, it’s Friday night, right?
That’s when it hits me. . . He is not going to fuck me. Get me hot? Check. Bothered? Double check.
I text Him.
He texts me back.
Nuthin’ for nilla.
After a bit, we talk. He has “microscopic” time for me.
Which it turns out, is verrah lucky for this slut.
You know, nilla, I thought about making you have a half-O tonight.
There is a long pause. I’m almost afraid to breathe. He goes on to say that He doesn’t have time to listen to me moan and whimper, doesn’t have time to set it up.
Doesn’t have time.
We chat, briefly, about tomorrow.
And then His voice drops into “Sexy Dom” register. My pussy sits up and whines.
You know what else I was thinking of, slut?
I was thinking of multiple half o’s. Maybe 30 minutes apart, maybe an hour. That thought is still in my head nilla. But the time is so limited, and I’m busy and I really need to go….
Once more I’m afraid to breathe, afraid any percieved “fear factor” that He picks up on (and He is so adroit at picking up on it) will land me a passel full of half-o’s.
Thanks, but yanno? No. (shakes head, backs away slowly).
“Goodnight Master!” I rush to fill in the questioning silence.
He laughs. A deep, sexual laugh.
Yanno slut, that’s the smartest thing you’ve ever said. Goodnight nilla.