For a while it looked like Master and nilla would not be able to match up schedules at all during this Thanksgiving weekend. I was busy. He was busy. I was working. He was working. I was busy. He was busy…it went on and on.
And then…He turned the magic Master dial and made it happen.
We hooked up for a bit over 90 minutes. Had tea, shared a cupcake, talked.
And He drew me up short with that look. You subbies, you know the look. The one that makes you sit up a bit straighter, pay attention harder, meet His eyes more earnestly.
“By the way, nilla,” He says, skewering me on that look of His, “if you ever send me a text like that again?”
I bite my lip. I am well aware of the three snarky texts I sent Him…it was last night (Saturday night), and I was at first, fretting that something was wrong since I’d not heard from Him in 8, 9 hours or more. And then I just…um…got mad. NOT wicked angry. But annoyed. And I was a bit…um… snarky bitch comes to mind. It was NOT disrespectful in the phrasing. I didn’t swear, or demean Him or anything like that…but it was snarky. I swallow hard under the weight of His eyes upon me. He isn’t frowning. His face is firm, as is His tone of voice. He is not angry, nor even annoyed. But firm is an apt description.
I look at Him, feeling a bit …guilty. And some trepidation. And I realize that, under the table? I’m wringing my hands in my lap. I mean…c’mon. That’s story-stuff, not real life! And yet, there I am, twisting my fingers up nervously.
Positive He has my undivided attention, He continues.
“I’ll drown you.”
Ah, so He was a bit…annoyed. Now, before you gasp and go “OMG nilla’s in DANGER…”
It’s part of the message. In Master-speak it means I crossed a line. I didn’t give Him full credit and didn’t merely jump to conclusions… I full-out LEAPT to them. And He was tired of that particular song and dance. So smarten up, slut. He is a man of few words, and very attention-grabbing talking points.
So, yeah, nilla you dumbass. He wasn’t ignoring you. (He was, in point of fact, asleep, because He’d had to work on Friday, and did some extra stuff on Saturday and…my very hyperactive imagination had Him dead and buried…or tired of me, and no longer interested in responding to texts, calls etc.)
“By the way,” He says, His eyes spearing me now. “My kids have your number. If something happens? You’ll be called. Okay?”
Does He understand my paranoia or what?
I do think I’m in for a serious spanking come the end of December. Not a happy spanking, but a “gezuz but you’re a pain in the ass, nilla” spanking.
Once that was handled (and I love this about Him…) it was over, done. I love how He can just put it away like that. And we moved on. We had some catching up about things, and then He pulls out His blackberry, and I think He’s answering a text.
He hands me the phone.
It…it’s….omg…it’s me. um…and I’m sucking (attempting to) Sir P’s cock. And then He’s pushing me over the bed and fucking me hard and I’m grunting and moaning because it’s painful (remember?).
“Look at that slut,” Master says, shaking His head. But His eyes are dancing with amusement. I feel the blush growing through my skin. I’m so hot that I have to take off my vest. I feel like I’m sunburnt, I’m so red. That woman is making a hella lot of noise in that little phone. I try to muffle the sounds…there is a guy sitting not 8 feet away.
“Watch the video, nilla,” He says in that Dom voice.
I watch the video, and squirm. And get turned on. And blush. Through all 8 minutes of it. And then He goes back to talking like nothing untoward happened!
A few minutes later, another video. OMG. I’m so fucking embarrassed. I mean…that’s me on that fucking video. I don’t watch porn as a general rule. I may see snippets of it, but to sit and watch it? Not so much. Sometimes those snippets turn me on too much.
Like this one did.
And…yanno…it was ME! And…. um, it made me squirmy. And I was not looking for porn on my computer. Oh no.
I was looking online for fucking mops, for crissakes. For HIM, no less. So that video ends, and I say “Master, won’t you come over here (to my side of the table) so I can show You these? And I’m fanning my face trying to relieve the heat, and hiding behind my hair….so fucking embarrassed.
“Oh, okay. You want me to come over there and see?” He hands me His phone. “You watch this one. Watch the video nilla.”
I take the phone.
“Watch it.” His voice, steely, in my ear. I swallow hard and watch myself riding Sir P’s cock, cowgirl. I cannot look away, having been ordered to watch.
And then it was done. He took back his phone, sat down and the afternoon wore on. Soon it was time to go. He teased me a bit more about the video’s, but then we were at our separate cars, and it was freezing and we kissed, and parted ways.
Tonight I texted Him. And asked for an O.
“Nope. Not tonight. Don’t want you to hurt yourself after seeing all those videos today.”
Turns me on, gets me all heated up…and leaves me hanging. All part of the Master Plan, methinks.
The plan to drive me crazy with wanting…but He’ll tell you…it’s a short trip anyway!