Dressing for my Master

The shoes, the way they stretch my calves and made me a little taller (though still not as tall as my Charles).

I opened the door and there he was. The man who was opening doors into new experiences in my life. The man who I had dressed so carefully for tonight. Who held my sexual feelings in the palm of his hand.

"Aren't you going to let me in then?" I can see his eyes, looking me up and down. Please be pleased with me. Please! I want so much your approbation of me dressed here, want you to say how beautiful I look. Please like me, want me. I am so insecure and suddenly all the dressing up and thinking I look good dissipates into thin air.

He still stands there looking at me and I can see the lust in his eyes. It is the same lust the first time that we met in the toilet, when he fucked my mouth so hard, my throat was sore for two days afterwards.

I find my voice "Yes, please come in"

I stand to one side and he comes in and I can feel his power over me, it is almost physical. As I shut the door, he turns and looks again at me.

"You dress up well for a slut" he says and I feel my cock twitch and my stomach unroll a little. He likes me! He loves to call me his slut and I love to be his slut.

I can stand it no longer. I fold to my knees in front of him and look up under my mascara'd lashes. He moves closer to me so that his crutch is in front of my eyes. I can only imagine what a sight I am to him, made up as I am, wearing clothes chosen especially for him.

"My little Sarah" he says. "How beautifully slutty you look tonight" His hand curls around and caresses my pony, sending shivers down my spine. "You are definitely good enough to take out in public. But not tonight – tonight you are MY slut"

His words struck home to me. He likes me! He wants me! He moved another step nearer me. I could see the outline of his gorgeous weapon in his trousers. Nervously I licked my lips and looked up at him again.