Finally, about 12:30 I quit pretending to read and moved into the darkened study and began an interminable period of waiting for a car to turn into the drive. The drive was curved so you couldn’t see the road from the house except through the trees – large white pine trees that hid the house from passing traffic. The drive ended at the garage door and had a turn-around area for backing out. Right over the garage was the study-library-office, a large room that, as I said before, we had converted from a bedroom. A perfect vantage point for a depraved husband to wait for someone to bring his wife home. It was weird, sitting there in the dark waiting for a car to turn into the drive. Occasional cars came down the road and I jumped each time, wondering if this was the one I was waiting for. I have never been in a situation remotely like that. I know that I wasn’t thinking clearly – I was nervous, anxious, jumpy and conflicted. I knew if a car pulled in and Sandy got out after a moment or. Now." With a tear in my eye, I glanced again to the stranger. You took a step toward me, hand raising."Okay!" I said, wrapping the collar around my neck. I loose strands of my hair out from under the collar and looked up in time to feel your hand landing again on my cheek.My hand flew up and covered the red, sensitive area. "Why did you do that?" I hated the way my voice sounded -- all pouty and whiny, but there was no helping it. I hurt. And I was genuinely confused. Or at least, I told myself I was confused."Master. You will always address me as such. Just as I will always address you as slut. Unless you are deserving of worse names?" The questioning manner of that last kept me from speaking out again. I finished buckling the collar in place.I stood, quietly and waited. I didn't have long to wait before you gave me my first order of the day. "Kneel, slut. This man wants a blow job." I looked up at you, shocked.The man stood there, listening and watching intently. "She doesn't seem.
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