Chapter 2

As Megan drifted awake, she felt a strange feeling of discomfort mixed in with the deep-body bliss that effused her consciousness. With the fog drifting from her waking mind, she tried to figure out the problem without moving or waking Heath, whose warm body she could feel close to her own.

She tugged her arms free of the tangle of bed sheets and started to move them over her body. Her fingertips traced down from her face, feeling the sensation of the smeared lipstick and makeup, down her neck where she felt the soft perfect ruffles of the choker and remembered its embroidery, "the perfect slave." Hearing the words echo silently in her mind brought a wash of bliss and a shiver of pleasure; she remembered how she had been the perfect slave to her husband and Master last night.

Her memories of these actions would have normally brought a surge of embarrassment bubbling up with worries about what it said about her or how she would face her neighbours after screaming her lust out loud like a whore. Not this morning, or at least not while she was in uniform. Neither she nor Heath knew it yet but the clothing she wore was not only bringing him pleasure to gaze upon it, but it worked on Megan as well in a much more total fashion.

Her fingers continued to trace downwards, feeling her fit body still wrapped tight and her firm, full breasts offered up in the embrace of the latex maid's uniform. After last night's activity and a nights sleep, her breasts needed to be eased back into as much of the dress as would cover them, but for right now she simply enjoyed the feel of her fingernails over her own flesh. She felt her pierced nipples stiff and sensitive.

As her legs rubbed together with the wonderful sensation, she felt the fishnet stockings still wrapping her legs and heard the rustling of her petticoat. Even as unkempt as she was after a nights sleep in her uniform, she felt so sexy and so alive. She wanted to run her fingers lower, under her ridiculously short skirt, but she knew a proper slave's response to this need would be a different one.

Instead her hands slid silently under the sheets to find Heath's cock, wonderfully stiff as he slept. She didn't want to wake him just yet so her strokes started off soft and slow, feeling each vein in his wonderful member. As it grew harder, her grip tightened and she increased the speed of her strokes.

She had to see it up close; she ached to kiss him, to taste him. Moving as slowly and silently as she could, never stopping her hands, she maneuvered her body lower, sliding down the bed and over, until her face was inches from his warming shaft. She pointed him upwards, exposing the underside of his cock to her tongue. She softly bathed and caressed him with her mouth as she continued the soft strokes. Still in blissful sleep, Heath's only reactions to this wonderful morning treat were a distant smile and soft moans.

She reveled in the taste now filling her mouth — a mixture of his cum and her own nectar from last night. It drew her in closer and she moved her massaging fingers to his balls so she could completely envelop the throbbing dick in her drooling mouth.

Her own moans now joined his, as this service only heightened her arousal and need. Concerns about waking him were pushed from her mind by a need and lust to serve and taste. She squeezed and massaged him as she sucked harder and faster. Her head was bouncing over him with wet slurps. She couldn't tell if he was fully awake, but she saw his hands curl into fists, gathering up handholds in the sweaty sheets.

When his feet started to point and his legs stiffened she knew it was close, and she sucked him hard and deep, pushing her mouth down over him to feel the spasming cock in the tightness of her throat. She fucked him with her mouth and face, moaning deeply with the awaited explosion of hot cum into her. With her lips closed tight around him she sucked it out of him, swirling her tongue around his shaft to increase his sensation and to let the taste fill her mouth.

His body finally relaxed and every muscle seemed to relax into a puddle of satisfaction on their bed. Her mouth was full, savouring the load she held, or else she might have giggled to seem him fall right back hard asleep. As it was she smiled down with deep love at her Master and she slipped silently from the bed. Turning back at the doorway, she smiled once more and finally swallowed. Master could sleep some more, but as a perfect slave and his loving maid, she had much work to do.

Megan entered the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She peeled carefully out of her uniform and placed it carefully on the counter. She couldn't bear to remove the lace choker after she saw the lovely reflection of herself wearing only it.

As the shower started to fill the washroom with a warming steam, she stepped into the water and luxuriated in the sensation. The feeling of her soapy hands over her body brought back each touch of her lover. Not wanting to dawdle, she moved efficiently to clean herself as well as make sure she shaved closely and carefully as well. Within minutes she returned to the bedroom warm, clean, smooth and moisturized.

Heath was throwing on clothes in an evident hurry.

"Love, I'm so sorry but work called and they need me in. I couldn't get out of it, but I'll be back as soon as I can. I know I've got some wonderful favours to return here." His smile was wide and he stopped to kiss her soft and deep. She hadn't fully recovered from the kiss by the time he was gone.

Standing alone in just her choker and a flowing silk robe, she felt a pang of sadness to have been left alone without Heath's presence and body. Not only was it a disappointment to have a normally relaxed Saturday lost, but now, under the soft influence of her clothing she wanted to serve him and to be his perfect slave, up close and very personal and being apart from him was something she felt like a missing arm.

She sat for a moment on the edge of her bed, attempting to get her mental footing. When she thought about last night and this morning, the momentum of her upbringing and all she'd previously felt made her want to be embarrassed at her display, or regret her actions and their possible consequences — oh god, the neighbours! — or even a part of her that didn't want Heath to get too used to having her act that way. Those thoughts evaporated instantly though, like tiny drops of water hitting a frying pan. All she felt was pleasure, satisfaction and love. She'd made Heath, her Master, happy. Very happy, she remembered with a giggle.

The choker, alone in influencing Megan, was like a filter for her thoughts and reactions. She had no uniform or other influence, so she was the most herself she'd been since she first dressed in her new clothing, but her new and overriding desire and purpose was to be, as the choker said, the perfect slave. Her first and last thought was to please her Master. With her attentions drawn to him like gravity, she felt her hands moving over and under the silk, feeling goosebumps rise all over. He'd want to her be aware of her sexuality, her need, her lust.

She rose, knowing she shouldn't just dawdle. Even without the direct influence of the maid's uniform, she decided to tidy up, since the previous night's activities had left a bit of mess in their wake. Since she was doing these things to keep up her Master's home, the choker once more provided positive reinforcement, and Megan felt a wonderful tingling through her body, and her nipples were very stiff and aware of the smooth texture of her flowing robe against them.

In their closet, Megan found the large box, still half full of the yet-unused clothing, uniforms and accessories that Heath had ordered. She was curious to know what was inside — she knew he had ordered all of the things on his own, so this seemed a perfect way to learn more of what he wanted, so that she could better anticipate his wants and needs.

Her mind raced as she fingered through the tiny lace scraps, the clothing made of tight and shiny latex, barely-there baby T's, and a few more of the chokers she herself was wearing, with different sayings and words on them. Each piece seemed to pulse in her fingers, as the imagined image of herself in them flowed through her mind, and how she could do her very best to satisfy the fantasies of her loving husband and Master.

One piece in particular made her think. It was a little red tank top, with a low, scooped neckline and spaghetti straps. On the front, in clear white text it said, "I like boys AND girls." It could only mean one thing, and that was Master wanted to see her with another woman, intimately. She paused, shocked. She'd never really thought of other women sexually before, but now, letting this implied fantasy wash over her, her body reacted strongly and in an instant she felt herself warm and wet between her legs and her nipples so stiff they ached.