“Slut, come here,” calls my Master from the other room.
I am my Master’s slave.
“Slut!” he calls, a bit louder than the last time.
I belong to him, body, mind and soul. My tits are his, my ass is his, my mouth is his to do with as he pleases. My skin is his to bruise, to smack, to whip, to hit, to burn. My mouth is his, to fuck, to use, to serve as a receptacle for his pleasure and release.
“In. Here. Now.”
I am his completely. I do everything he says.
“SLUT!”
Except right now. Right now I am ignoring him, because he is annoying.
“Is somebody looking for a bruising?” Master is standing in the doorway.
Uh-oh.
I think I’m about to be in trouble.
There is time, still, to turn this around. My Master is forgiving. I can tell him sweetly that I didn’t hear him, though I wouldn’t because that wouldn’t be true. I did hear him.
I just didn’t feel like answering.