She pulled into an open parking space and waited.

She was early.  It was six minutes to eight o’clock, and the sun was overhead.  The car park was nearly deserted, not just here at the top level, where her car must have stood out like a sore thumb among the empty spaces; but on the lower decks, where she counted at most six vacant cars, all likely left behind by bar patrons who’d wisely called cabs the night before.

She regarded the red bag on the seat next to her. It was large, ornate, and tied with shiny ribbon.  She’d gotten it from a locker at the train station, led there by His explicit instructions.  It wasn’t heavy, and she had spent the last four days wondering what was inside.  She didn’t dare peek through the ribbon and tissue paper within.  She knew she’d be punished if she did.

At eight o’clock, her phone rang.  She put the call on speaker and set the phone on her dashboard.  His familiar voice told her to open her gift, and she carefully untied the pretty red ribbons that held the handles together.  When that was done, she opened the bag and withdrew a few sheets of pink tissue, which she set down on the passenger seat.  At last, she peered inside.

A silky black camisole and matching thong waited inside.  Beneath them was a pair of black fishnet stockings.  She waited for His command before she took them out of the bag, and once it was given she enjoyed their softness in her hands.  She thanked Master for His generosity, then realized with equal measures of shock and excitement what was coming next.  His words sounded through the speaker less than a second later.

“Put them on.”  His voice was neutral, noncommittal, but it was all she had of Him.  She didn’t know His name, or even what He looked like.  They’d met online – she considered that strange, as they hadn’t actually met, had they? – and communicated exclusively through e-mail and instant messenger conversations for weeks.  She didn’t even hear His voice until they’d been playing together for three months.  That was how He wanted it.

She put on Master’s gift.  It wasn’t easy to change her clothes in the driver’s seat, especially when a security patrol car passed on its regular rounds.  Master was most insistent that she stop what she was doing in order to avoid arousing the security guard’s suspicions.  She paused, took her phone in hand and made a show of having a conversation.  The car didn’t slow down as it passed, and once it was out of sight she continued.

After she had put on the lingerie Master had given her, she was ready for her next task.  She knew exactly what He would tell her to do, and she was eager.  But she’d never start without His permission.

“Play with your pussy.”

Her fingers met her lips, just a tentative touch at first.  She knew better than to get too worked up too quickly.  This might take hours, though considering her arousal she hoped not.  She’d already soaked her new panties, and she knew she was on her way to doing the same with the upholstery.  She continued to play, deliberately avoiding her clit.  She hadn’t been told to touch it yet, and if she disobeyed, He would know.

The car park was nearly surrounded by high-rise office buildings.  She didn’t know where Master worked; He didn’t volunteer that information, and she knew better than to ask.  But it was obvious that He’d chosen this location for her because it provided Him with a good vantage point.  And arranging this meeting of sorts on a Sunday morning ensured that only He would get to enjoy her.

“Lower your camisole”, He said, “and play with your nipples.”

She did as she was told.  She didn’t want to take her hand off of her pussy, but a command was a command.  She caressed her breasts for a moment, then realized that He hadn’t told her to do that.  She squeezed her nipples between her fingers, feeling the already-hard peaks stiffen further.

“Very good, slut.  Play with your pussy again.”

When she raised the straps of the camisole onto her shoulders, she was met with a sharp rebuke.

“I didn’t tell you to cover up.”  She apologized, and once again lowered the straps.  He repeated His order to touch herself.  She did.  Her fingers traced the soft, delicate folds, collecting wetness on their tips.  He didn’t tell her to stay away from her clit, but He didn’t have to.  She knew that when He wanted her to touch her clit, He would tell her so.  He said nothing further and, taking His silence as an implied order, she continued what she was doing.

She enjoyed the pleasure she was feeling, not only the pleasure of touching her pussy, but the pleasure she derived from obeying Master.  But she wasn’t sure how long she could go without giving in and indulging her aching, throbbing clit.  In her heart, she knew she had to hold out for as long as Master wanted her to.  No matter how long He made her wait, eventually He always let her cum.

When she noticed the security patrol car in her rear view mirror, her heart almost leaped from her chest.  This time, the car was stopped right behind her own.  She didn’t want to panic, but she stopped playing and picked up her phone.  By now, the security guard had exited the car.

She spoke breathlessly into the phone.  “What do I do?”  Master didn’t answer her.  She looked around for something to cover up with, and grabbed the blouse she had earlier removed.  As she tried to wrap it around herself, she called out to Master again, with desperation in her voice.

The security guard tapped on the window.  She rolled it down.

He spoke: “You can touch your clit now.”

-Jack

Go see who else is being wanton this week!