It's like this day is determined not to end.
My knees ache on the floor and my shoulders are stiff from pushing my tits into the floor, waiting for your return.
Even my almost eternally wet pussy is starting to dry out - I can hardly remember the last time that happened.
I have no idea how late you are - I don't wear a watch anymore because time is immaterial. My two states are you are here, and you are not. There's no point guessing when one will start and another will end.
The footsteps I hear in the hall outside the door are enough, I feel wetness run back into my lips and I'm grateful, you would be horrified to be greeted by a dry cunt.
The sound of your keys in the door results in a change in my breathing, like a Pavlovian dog. All I can think about is wrapping my mouth around your cock. I hope you will allow me to do so before you even put your things down, but I know you have your mind elsewhere and I will need to work to get your attention.
You storm through the door, straight past me and I feel my hair yank as some my wild blonde mane catches under your foot. I can't tell, but I'm pretty sure you didn't look down.
I listen as you drop your computer case in the foyer and go through to make a drink.
And then, it's quiet. And I haven't been given permission to move.
I stay there as the evening progresses. It gets dark.
I haven't moved, the pleasure of the single point of contact for the afternoon - your foot on my hair - is the only solace I have.
Lights come on in the city, and I hear the traffic die away.
As you know what is best for me, sometimes I know what is best for you. And leaving your pet by the door is not best, even if I will be punished for disobeying the rules.
I slowly creep to my feet and sneak quietly through the house, toe-first like birds walk to reduce the tremor.
You're sitting in an arm chair, staring out the window at the city, drink in hand.
I know you know I'm there, so I resume my position but this time at the door: Head and chest against the floor, bare arse in the air.
You ignore me.
I creep closer, on all fours, around in front of you.
Watching your face, I lightly touch your shoes and start to run my hands up your legs...
"Go back to the door," you say.
"But Sir, it's been hours!" I look down.
"Backchat will get you nowhere," you say, still quietly.
You are right, of course. Speaking will get me nowhere so instead decide to demonstrate the lengths this pet will go to for some attention.
I start with my tits - you're still staring out the window and although others think they're my best asset, you long ago lost much interest in them.
I pull my nipples right out in front of me with each hand, and twist them hard in the same direction, first to the left, then the right. I use my hands to slap them together then let them fly apart, the noise echoing around the tiny apartment.
I want to moan, I already feel wet and my mouth is watering for cock, but you're unmoved.
Using tape, I wonder if you at least watch out of the corner of my eyes as I wind the adhesive around the base of my tits so they sit out hard and proud like basketballs. the pressure in them builds as I go around and around, they start to turn red with the effort.
By the time I am done, moisture is running out of my nipples and it almost looks like have two balls stuck to my chest I have managed to bring the tape around to tightly.
I play with my nipples a little more, and more milk comes out. I silently both curse and love you for making this happen, drugging me with galactagogues and strapping me to a milking machine for many hours.
I take a fine gold chain with a clamp at either end, and it to each nipple, gasping at the connection then tightening the clamps, flattening my nipples. My whole front is on fire and the pressure will only grow with any outlet closed off by the clamps.
Still in front of you I take the moisture that had escaped my nipples during the clamping process and rub it over my taught tits, then start to move my hand up and down between them, showing how they could titty-fuck your cock. The tension caused by my bound tits would add greater pressure, and you could cum right up into my face, and your hands pushing them together in the nipple clamps would be almost unbearable.
I get no response.
Looking around, I put a dental gag into my mouth and sit for a while, until saliva starts running out the sites of my mouth onto my engorged, taped tits.
I fasten a large dildo with a suction cup at one end on the floor, then go to work on it with my open mouth, bobbing up and down in front of you, using my hands on the floor to work my whole upper body to force my open mouth down onto the rubber cock.
I stick my tongue out and lick it up and down either side, trying to make eye contact with you.
You sip your drink, and stare away. I groan, as my head almost hits the floor then comes back right up to the top of dildo.
I put my hands into my pussy, get them wet then bring them to my mouth, showing just how much I can fit into it when it's forced open like this.
You do not respond.
Defeated, I lie back before you with my cunt right towards your face, and spread my lips so you can see - if you would look, but you continue to stare into space - right up into my pussy. I pull as hard as I can, imaging you can see into my cervix.
I take some of the spit from my face and use it to add some wetness to my pussy but I didn't really need to, it was already dripping. As my fingers move a flood comes out of me all over the floor and my arse is lying in a puddle of my own cum. I wrench the dildo from the floor and shove it into my cunt, using both hands to push it in as far as it would go, then holding it fast with my feet while I continue to massage my increasingly prominent clit. I can only assume whatever drugs you've fed me have made my clit swell up at the same time as my nipples.
I clench my cunt around the dildo and move to my side, then my front, and come to my knees. I position it upright on the floor and further lower myself down onto it until it will not go any further.
I then smear cunt juice - you prefer the vulgar terms however the more erudite term would be cyprine - into my ass and suck end of a heavy stainless-steel booty plug. I reach around and push it into my ass, far enough that inside me it feels like the wall between the dildo and plug is being pushed thing. I bend over then ease back, the dildo flattens against the floor stretching my cunt passage and the floor connects with the plug, pushing it in further.
I ease down onto them with as much pressure as I can, rivers of cum drip down the dildo.
Still with no response I remove dildo - it's so big it feels like I pull out feet of it before it finally exits, and return to the low bow position, gasping as my swollen, clamped nipples touch the floor and my face is flush in a puddle of my own cum.
You raise an eyebrow, almost imperceptibly - It's the first indication I've had that you've noticed that I'm there at all - A small but critical indication my efforts may not be in vain. But if they were, it would not be the first time. There have sometimes been days when I've wondered if I'm a cat - or even a house plant - or simply invisible.
While I have my attention elsewhere, you abruptly get up from your chair, grab your computer and walk to your office. Like the living room, it has floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.
I follow after you, and watch from the door as you sit at the dark wooden desk and the laptop boots up.
I remove the clamps from my nipples - and gasp loudly as the blood and sensation rushes back into them, forcing my cum to be ejected out of my cunt and splash onto the floor. I step in it as I approach and leave little cummy footprints in your office.
As I approach the desk I can hear the hum of the laptop boot up.
My tits are already sticking horizontal out from my body from the pressure of the tape. I rest them on the top of the desk. I'm at the side of the desk and I'm careful to point them slightly backwards towards the back of the desk.
I use a wine bottle on the desk like a rolling pin - I bring it up and place it like a bar across my swollen, sore tits, and gently roll it over the top of them. Even that light pressure is enough to make milk shoot out of them after such a long time clamped and under pressure.
At first it shoots straight over the back of the desk onto the floor, then reduces to rivers heading from my nipples to the back of the desk where it runs along the desk, down the legs and starts to puddle on the floor.
I return the bottle to the base of my tits and go again, this time with a little more pressure, ejecting more liquid out of my swollen tits. The release is ecstatic and cum starts to roll down the insides of my legs again.
I go again, then again and again, flattening my tits with all my upper body weight and forcing them to elongate out. I
And still you remain unmoved. I look at the mess I have made of the desk, rivers of milk running off the back and down both legs. It smells of warm milk and cum. I slowly remove the dental gag which has been strapped on me until this point and massage my jaw shut.
I bend down and start to lap at the puddles on the floor, painfully close to your cock which is relaxed and non-responsive under the desk as I go about my work.
I put the clamps back on to stop any more coming out of my tits, then scrunch up a bunch of post it notes and shove them into my cunt in attempt to stem the tide.
My tongue gets sore and I start to feel a little nauseous but i keep at it, working up the legs of the desk and then standing to clear the desk also, sucking the pens and desk items that were splattered in my desperate attempt to get your attention, so you too might have some release.
I realise the pens are now all appropriately lubed. I bend over and touch my toes, then reach up and insert one pen into my anus, then another, then another. With five ball points in, I grab them as a handful and start to fuck my arse with the stationary I find on your desk, trying desperately to show how perfect my hold is as a cum repository.
You continue to type. I throw the pens in the waste paper basket.
With nothing left to give I kneel under the desk, and listen to the quiet hum of the laptop and your fingers on the keyboard and rest my head against your knee.
It's peaceful, under the desk, and I start to dose off when I feel your hand on the side of my face.
"Well done, little one," you say, as you pick me up and carry me to bed.
