Waiting is really the hardest part. Not the planning, the rearranging of my schedule. Not the prep work of showering, shaving, cleaning out of absolutely everything, the make-up, the hair.
Not the restocking of His regular supplies.
Not the retrieval of whatever new supplies He has requested.
He never orders, He requests. Nothing binds me into making sure I have Ardbeg whisky in the cabinet, fresh ginger in the fridge, silk scarves in the top drawer of the dress, and yet, I do.
He never orders. He requests that I be completely clean, naked, sober. That my anus be properly lubed and plugged. That my pussy be wet. That my nipples clipped. Yet, here I sit, awaiting His arrival.
And so I wait and will wait until He chooses to arrive.
All of requests most eagerly filled.