Faces of Submission: Zara's Anticipation

Zara fought to control her emotions while obeying Master. She struggled so her face wouldn't betray her desires.

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Master told Zara to undress in the living room, kissed her on the forehead as she undid her halter top, lowered her shorts and wiggled out of her panties. He pointed to a cushion. “Kneel.”

One simple command.

Zara set her clothes aside on the floor and knelt like Master instructed her and purred when he placed his finger beneath her chin, having her look upward. His eyes exuded admiration for her and his fingers running through her hair was comforting and exhilarating. 

“Stay.” He was direct yet calm and left, going about chores around the house.

Every moment she stayed below him, looking up, was a moment her anticipation grew. She couldn’t tell what was going to happen. If anything. Or how long he would have her kneel.

He was the dominant one and took control. She was submissive and accepted the feeling of trusting him without knowing what would happen.

Staying still when he told her to was a normal part of their relationship, like the time he had friends over to watch the game and she knelt in a corner wearing only a white shirt unbuttoned. 

He didn’t make her do anything, not even get snacks from the kitchen, she simply stayed still. Which wasn’t so simple, especially with the men who had gathered wearing shirts stretched across their chests and their jeans and shorts revealing muscles and their strength.

Someone looking in on the scene would simply say, “Oh, nothing was happening.” But Zara knew. Her insides were being ripped apart while she sat with her back to the corner and kept staring at the guests.

That evening, after the guests left, Master swooped her off her feet and took her into the bedroom where he unleashed a wild exuberance in fucking her. “Watching you, studying you. Knowing you were there drove me wild,” he said between lathering her body with kisses.