Toy Box

I tore my clothing off and flung it to the floor. My red, strapless number hung beside the mirror, ready to push my cleavage to the limit.  I studied my tits– full and round with ugly, white stretch marks covering the sides. I could wear an under wire tonight. Master hadn’t said not to. The push–up bra would show the birthmark smack dab between my tits. His tongue always spent a lot of time there.

My hips were too big. Master loved them. I shouldn’t doubt his word. My hazel eyes were my best feature. I used them to give Master butter–fly kisses.

“Amber, five minutes.”

Master gave me time warnings. I needed them. I wished I had time to paint my nails. At least my hair was how I wanted it. The thong pressed stiff and cold against my bare mound. The bottom of my right lip puckered out at the side. A sexy, tramp mentality overcame me as I twirled in front of the mirror.

“Time’s up, my pet.”

“Nearly done, Master.” I spritzed my perfume and reapplied my lipstick.

“You’re late.”

“I know.”