[Slave_E]

On the way up to my flat I noticed that I had a text message. It was from the BF, asking me to be online for our weekly Skype conference in one hour. The message had come in 45 minutes ago, so I was left with only 15 minutes to spare...

I slammed the door shut, doffed shirt and panties, threw them on the floor, slipped into high heels and put the slave collar with the name tag around my neck he had given me for my last birthday. He expected me to wear it whenever we talked. I poured myself a glass of white wine, painted my lips bright red, took a hefty swig, leaving distinct lip marks on the rim of the glass. I still had yesterday's smeared eyes, so there was no need to care for the rest of my makeup. The BF gets off on this whorish look.

I stuffed a remotely controlled vibe into my pussy, turned the laptop on, waited for it to sync to the big curved 4K monitor the BF had made me set up in my apartment. I opened Skype and connected it to the vibe via bluetooth - all the time waiting for Adrian to call me back, getting more and more anxious that he would. No way I could speak to the BF and Adrian at the same time. That would have been an unbearable clash of priorities.

I looked around a last time and opened the windows. The BF insisted on me having fresh air while we talked. It was chilly outside, my nipples got hard immediately and I got goosebumps all over my body.

I downed a second glass, waited for the alcohol to ease my tense muscles, took the bottle with me, kneeled on the floor, looked up to the monitor that filled my desk as if it was an altarpiece, made sure that the webcam covered my looking up to the monitor (and thus to the BF) in a favorable angle, switched the vibe to a middle setting and activated the remote. I knew that the BF would alter the setting as soon as he was online, but I was sure he'd want me drunk and horny, a bottle of wine close by and all wet down there...

As usual he made me wait... My knees got stiff, thanks to the high heels, my toes started to hurt and the cold air seeping in through the windows made me shiver. I dashed down a third glass and played with my nipples, but it did not help. I was drunk but not horny...

With a piercing beep he appeared on the screen. He shrugged his shoulders, obviously meant for somebody outside of the camera angle, turned to me, grinned mischievously and said that he was happy to see me in such a merry mood and with such nicely erected nipples. I almost bit my tongue, but replied that it was a sign of my joy to see him.

He waited for me to pour the rest of the bottle into my glass and smirked. "Cheers, girl. Let's toast on the success of your website..." With this he raised a glass that must have materialized out of nowhere, as I had not noticed it before. "You will be thriled to hear that by now you have exceeded the number of 250 devoted followers from all over the world - or should I say 'very selected members'? A lot of them are ardent fans, who watch you more than 4 hours per day... And they are paying members!" He smirked again. "They accept your not so modest hourly rates without complaint for the privilege to see you walking around naked, hoping to catch you doing lewd things."

He held his glass in the camera, as if he wanted to bring out another toast, but waited for me to take a deep slug from mine before he nipped cautiously at whatever liquid was in his glass. "Ain't it funny? They love you so much that more and more of them ask me to make you do specific things. Slutty things, you may say, lewd thing, kinky things...Obviously there are guys out there ready to fork out a lot of money for acting out their strangest fantasies."

I was alerted. "What kind of things would that be, Sir?"

"Oh, nothing out of the ordinary, just what you'll find on every porn site. For example, one member asked for you to spend a few days at his house, doing all kinds of houshold chores, naked, on high heels... "

I must have looked incredulously, as he quickly assured me that he had declined, but added, "He got really worked up when I doubted that you'd like it, he said a woman's place is in the house and that she should serve her man in every which way. I told him that this might be ok with regard to sex, but for the household chores, I would not agree and suggested he hire a cleaning woman... But he did not give up so easily. He told me what he wanted from you. His fantasy was astoundingly plain and devoid of all subtle nuances... To make a long story short: You enter the room... followed by a description of your looks and your movements... for instance you would, dressed as a french maid, bend over on straight legs to place a drink on the coffee table, then he would raise your skirt and fuck you... I gave him a few hints how to make the scenario more interesting but he did not grasp it... I did not promise him anything and do not plan anything, I just thought you might find it as funny as I do."

Another common request, he said, was to get me pierced - my tongue, my nipples, my labiae, even my clit... Before I had a chance to protest, he waved his hand defensively, "Don't worry... I would never let you get pierced... or tattooed. It might dammage my property and in the end decrease your value..."

I was speechless. Dammage his property? Decrease my value? What was he talking about? I took a deep breath preparing to straighten him out but he took the wind out of my sails by switching the vibe to its highest setting. The sudden onslaught distracted me, and he threw me off balance even more when he suggested I empty my glass and get another bottle. Without thinking I got up. When I was standing I noticed how drunk I was, and how horny the constant buzz of the vibe had made me.

On my way to the fridge, I looked out of the window. The sky had filled with dark clouds and it had started to rain. Thick droplets of water landed on the window sill. I enjoyed a deep breath of moist air and some of my senses came back. I opened the fridge and coolness fell out, tingling my sweaty skin. It felt good. I opened a new bottle, filled my glass and took both back to my place in front of the monitor. I made a show of pinching my nipples, kneeled down, spread my legs and let my arms hang limply to my sides. A strange sensation, something between pain and pleasure worked its way down my spine to my clit, and encouraged me to ask, with a slightly ironic undertone, "I hope there were any suggestions you liked, Sir?"

He looked down to me and grinned. "At least there was one I liked, because of it's humour. I will tell you about it while you're trying to edge... Do your best to get as close to an orgasm as you can, and stay there. But do not dare to cum! You will be punished..."

While my left hand obediently massaged my breasts and my right hand circled my clit, he told me that I was expected to go out dressed as an English Chav schoolgirl. I told him that there are no school uniforms in Germany and that I was too old to go through as a schoolgirl, but he told me that the client (yes, he said "client") knew all this and that he was interested in humiliating me publicly, and that I didn't have to be a credible schoolgirl for him to achieve his goal, quite the contrary.

"The client wants you to wear a very short pleated plaid mini skirt in red and black, and no panties. He says you can order it from Amazon, he will be happy to send you the link. He also wants you to wear a plain white blouse with rolled up sleeves, but you will only close one or two buttons and they shall all be in the wrong holes, as he wants a lot of cleavage.... And he wants you to wear the blouse over a whorish red and black push up bra..." He grinned again. "Seeing you massaging your pathetic tits, the bra will need a lot of stuffing to convince him that you are a real chav girl.."

He obviously expected me to smile back, but I didn't do him the favor. He shrugged and added, "He also wants you to wear plain white knee socks and black patent leather shoes with rounded toes and Velcro fastening straps. He seems to be a Velcro fetishist. He also mentioned a black leather choker. He said you can get it from Etsy. It fits snugly and does not look like an every day item. I will tell him to get in touch with you directly, so he can specify his wishes."

I stared at him with big eyes and he went on, "Oh, before I forget, he has specific wishes for your make-up: big eyes, broad blue stroke over the upper lid, long false eyelashes, pink cheekbones, smeared red lipstick... Also tousled hair, you know, that straight-out-of-bed look. And he wants you to wear a stainless steel jewel butt plug... I do not think this will pose any problems for an anal-fixed horny slut like you..."

This time he did not wait for my reaction. He just kept talking, without a break, "Speaking of jewels... He wants you to buy stainless steel ear clips, those you can use without earholes - If you do not mind loosing them sooner or later... Maybe he wants you to loose them... Oh no, that's not what he wants, let me look at his email... I printed it out... He wants you to clamp them onto your pussy lips. He wants you to clip two or three on each of your inner labiae and he wants you to use a steel-chain necklace to link them tightly to the butt plug. He wants your pussy to be kept open. And he obviously wants your nipples to be clamped too..." With this he stopped, looked at the piece of paper in his hands and said, "I better read it out loud: 'She is to apply adjustable nipple clamps by "Pipedream Products, Inc." to her tits.' Seems he wants you to fasten one clamp to each nipple... And here, isn't this crazy? He wants you to write 'Cum Dumpster' with a permanent marker in black just above your clit and, I have to quote again, 'she has to add a big black arrow pointing down to her wide open fuck hole...!"

He waved a few sheets of paper in front of the camera. "You know what, I'll just read out this fucking email." He turned a page and continued. "Dressed and equipped like that I want her to go to a cocktail bar near Savignyplatz.." With this he stopped again and added, "I know it, I think it's called "Zeitlos", I know what he's talking about, it's cool, I will give you the address later... but listen..." And he went on, "She's to go there next Thursday, 7pm, during happy hour, so she will have one hour to get thoroughly drunk. She will sit close to the window, at this time of the day there will be enough tables available, and place two orders within 10 minutes. Each order will be two drinks for the price of one, so she will have to drink 4 cocktails..." He grinned broadly. "I bet you'll like it Slut, ain't that so?"

"Of course, Master! I will love it. I'm just crazy about being made inebriated in a sleazy cocktail bar during happy hour dressed as a slutty chav school girl..."

"Do I detect a hint of sarcasm? You are being ungrateful, Slut! I do my best to keep you amused and what do I get? Mockery? I can't tolerate that! But be it as it is, you will have to listen to the rest of the story..."

And he read on, "When she can't walk straight any more, and I hope she can't walk straight any more after 4 cocktails within half an hour, she has to get up, step up to the counter and order a tall caffee latte, a quarter of red wine and a tall Coke with lots of ice. She will carry all this in her hands to the back part of the bar. When she sees a table with 4 guys in matching t-shirts, she will purport to slip and fall. On the way down, she will spill all the drinks over her chest, grab the next table's tablecloth so that all things on that table fall to the floor as well. She'll end up crawling over the floor on all fours, pretending to clean up the mess, but in reality she'll use it as a pretext to get rid of her skirt, expose all her jewels and, still on her knees, talk to the guys, tell them she is sorry for being such a clumsy and stupid girl, offer them her telephone number, asking them for a pencil to write it down on a paper napkin. And, as she's still on her knees, she'll wiggle her ass invitingly, challenging the guys to grope her assets...."

My mobile rang and interrupted us with its unmistakeable sound. The BF asked, "Who is it?" and I blurted out, "It's Adrian. The guy you told me I have to answer his calls anytime. As I'm sure he has paid a lot for the privilege, I think I'd better take his call..."