I wake slowly, almost dragged from sleep by some invisibility force. It is earlier than I anticipated and dawn is settling over Kat's room through the shutters to the left of the bed: sandy tan light filters in, casting the large room in a warm glow.
A shift in weight at my throat brings my attention to what should have been obvious: Kat fell asleep practically on me, leg and arm cast over me like a weighted anxiety blanket. And her hand? Clenched around my throat. It is where I assume it has been all night if my failure to notice the action is any indication. My throat has become so accustomed to the feeling of being clenched that if she took it off now, I would feel like a piece of myself had been removed.
Finally, I bring my gaze- somewhat nervously-to Kat's face. I expect her to be awake, as I have never caught her unaware, but I find instead that she is sound asleep on my chest. Her face is void of makeup, and her hair rests in shiny waves down her black silk tank top. She is beautiful, somehow even more beautiful bare. I thought her face would be less intense without makeup, but I find it might be even more so. Her cheekbones lay high on her face, casting her more so a villain than anything soft as most women are without makeup.
She is entrancing like this. The way she is draped over me leans closer to a grappling maneuver than cuddling. It is comforting in its own right.
Kat seems to sense my gaze, because she wakes. It is not a gentle or gradual thing. She was asleep, and now she is fully awake and alert, staring at me with knowing eyes.
"Hello sub."
"Hello Mistress."
How did we end up like this? I don't remember falling asleep, much less falling asleep with Kat on me like this. I remember the bath. My shameful breakdown. Her burns-the intricate and somehow sexy addition to the woman I have come to admire. But sleep?
"I had my staff give you a tranquilizer so you could sleep better: upon your permission, of course. You seemed like you could use some rest." Thoughtful of her.
Kat runs a hand through my hair, and then the other one follows. It is a soft touch, and yet still so assured. She runs her hands through my hair until, like she just can't help herself, she gives the strands a playful little tug.
I am grateful she is not being cold or off with me after yesterday. Breaking down over something as simple as her washing my hair would make anyone else weary. I am relieved she hasn't brought it up."Come to breakfast. Then we will discuss the day's plans."
Kat gets up out of bed and stares at me for a moment. I stare back. Her chest is unbound in her silky pajama set, and I stare like a teenage boy. Her breasts are small, but there is something so incredibly sexy that I cannot put my name on. They look tender... possibly the only tender thing about Kat. Maybe it is that. Maybe whenever I see her breasts, I think of how she might react if I touched them softly, and licked them even softer. Would she moan as she did yesterday? Would she shiver against me?"Lustful. Most mistress would take offense at your stare."
I look back up at her. I wouldn't mind a punishment at the moment. Though I couldn't imagine anything I would love more than to be permitted to touch Kat right now. God I'm so horny.
"You are lucky I am in a good mood, Sub. Come here."
I try not to smile like I just won the lottery. Try and fail. I go to get out of bed, but stop at Kat's command.
YOU ARE READING
Her Male Model (Femdom)
RomanceKatrina Levour is used to being obeyed. She is the CEO of Levour Fashion, which means everyone in her life bends to her will. Her employees want promotions, her models want recognition, and her 'friends' want access to her life of glamour and luxury...