The morning light comes dimly through the curtains. My eyes open slowly, then without further hesitation i crawl out of the bed. Presenting to Mistress Haley as She has always directed; slipping out of my nightshirt and kneeling, naked on the floor. My ankles are crossed behind (a position i had thought awkward at the beginning, the slight discomfort now no longer entering my consciousness), my wrists crossed, my back straight, chest thrust out, rings dangling from my nipples, and, of course...thighs wide open.

The soft chair where my Mistress might sit if She were here draws my gaze; i look into the shadow where Her eyes might be, and speak the words i have said countless mornings before, from locations all over the world, “Good morning, Mistress!” as if She were actually sitting there. A moment longer...a deep sigh; my head slowly hangs. It has been a long time since She has been there.

Pulling on shorts and T-shirt, i step into the exercise room. Forty-five minutes of vigorous spinning later, i walk to the weight rack. It is my responsibility to keep myself fit for Her, to please Her. Everything is about pleasing Her. A quick breakfast, coffee, then water.

Showered, legs shaved, dried, hair fixed, makeup done, i walk naked to the lingerie drawer. How should i adorn myself for Her today? Another deep sigh. What would She have me wear, if She were here? My visage brightens a little at the thought. Pulling out a purple-hued pushup bra, i fasten it carefully and smile at my reflection in the mirror; my breasts, though modest, are still full and high. Taking out a pair of similarly-colored stockings, a matching garter belt, and panties, i giggle slightly at the idea of putting panties on BECAUSE my Mistress wanted it. The garter belt and stockings go on with practiced ease...sliding the stockings carefully up my legs and luxuriating with the feel of the fine denier nylon against my smooth skin. Picking up the panties, and hesitating for a moment...did She mention once about wanting me to wear a butt plug? Another deep sigh, knowing She might not call, but my desire to please Her overrides any reluctance; everything i do or think is about pleasing Her.

Going to the drawer where i keep all my toys, i choose a stainless plug with a purple jewel. A good choice, i think, then pump a little lube onto the tip…

The plug goes in...not easily, but it’s a familiar friend. The plug fills my ass in that special way, reminding me of what i am and who owns me. Looking at myself in the mirror, i see the jewel winking between the smooth globes of my ass cheeks, and i know Mistress would be pleased. The panties slide smoothly up over the garter belt (so they can easily be removed without taking the stockings off) and cover my bare mound, decorated only with the twin labia rings i have had for years. Then i pad over to the closet and pull out my 7-inch platform heels. This slave wants to look her best for her Mistress...if She should call…

The laptop is before me, on a low table as normal. The cushion properly positioned, i re-assume my presentation position. A little more constricted now, on my knees with my high heels under my panty-covered bottom, my wrists crossed behind my back. Once more i thrust out my purple-covered breasts...relax into the position...and wait.

It has been some time since Mistress called me.

The old doubts flood back into my mind. Perhaps i haven’t been pleasing enough in the past. Maybe i wandered too much, caused Her too much heartache and worry. Her collar felt so wonderful around my neck, i took and wore it willingly, and continue to do so proudly...but i know i have strayed, and made Her angry. When She made me a Slave, it was such a happy day! She even changed my name to honor Her. Vanessa i had been, or sometimes JV, but Haleys4everJV i became. And yet, my own needs, sometimes the need and hunger for younger girls, the desire to be used by other Dommes, often clouded my mind. She has been cross with me, more than once.

The window on the laptop is silent and unmoving. My eyes touch it often, hoping it will fill with the marching dots that mean She has summoned me.

This is the life i begged for. To be Hers. To wait on Her call. And here i am, presented, dressed as (i hope) she wants me to dress, plugged, and waiting. Haleys4everJV.

Will She call? For a moment i am shaken by doubt. Have i been...abandoned? But no, i push those thoughts away. Mistress will not ever abandon me. She told me She wouldn’t, and She has NEVER failed to do what She says She will do.

Time passes. Patience. A slave waits as long as necessary. When my knees are stiff from kneeling, i get up and go to the bathroom, and stretch a little. Then some food, then once again kneeling.

The laptop is still quiescent. Waiting — and the patience that goes along with it — is part of submission This was something i learned long ago, from Her. And i am submitted; i wanted it, wanted to belong to Her. But it has gone far beyond that. My life begins and ends with Her. All others have been pushed out. My old life is gone; i left it all behind, stopped answering calls and emails months ago...and finally they stopped coming. Even knocks on my door were ignored, and finally they stopped, too. Transformed from an ordinary woman into a willing slave to another, more Dominant woman; i am Her slave forever. And it is all i am. All i want to be.

The shadows cross the room. My knees are stiff again. Once more, i rise, exercise the stiffness out, use the bathroom, eat another meal, and resume my wait. My mind fills with all the times She has shared Herself with me...honored me with the taste of Her toes...the smell and feel of Her most intimate parts, the hot liquor of Her urine. My frame is shaken by a slight tremble, a little smile curves my lips, my Mistress loves me, and honors me with these gifts...She will not abandon me. My body shifts on the plug.

The thoughts of Her, allowing me to worship Her, giving me Her gifts…a low moan escapes my slightly parted lips. My hips begin to involuntarily undulate on my heels, the scent of my arousal thickens. My nipples stiffen beneath the material of the bra. Feeling myself almost imperceptibly begin to rock a little...my pussy is wet, and needy, and i feel the familiar urge and heat arising. Sweat pops out on my brow, my breath begins to get a little ragged. Surely...surely She would…would permit...the rocking and swaying increases. Then, i bite down on my lip. Orgasms belong to HER. And Her alone. Slowly my heated body settles, cooling now, descending from that height i mustn't climb without permission.

The room grows dark. Rising again, a little stiffly, removing the heels, the clothing and the plug, carefully washing the plug and putting it away. One more look at the lingerie...a little sniff...and a giggle. The panties WILL need washing before they are worn again. Tomorrow? Maybe the cupless corset would be pleasing to Her? Once more to the bathroom, some light stretching and then reversing the morning’s routine. Cleaning off the makeup, brushing and flossing, shower...drying myself…

Once again i kneel, naked. Presented the same way as the morning, the same way i have presented myself countless times before. “Good night Mistress!” my voice rings out in the empty room.

My gown slides easily over my shoulders and i slip once again into my bed. Hers. Perhaps tomorrow She will call…

A last thought as my mind drifts off to sleep: ”Can it possibly be only 48 hours since i have last seen Her?”