"Mmmmm," I groaned. My eyes sprang open. Am I insane? I wondered, giggling. "Dominique?" came from behind me. "Ahh!" I cried, surprised and embarrasse.... "You scared me!" He stood in the doorway, a silver tray loaded with food balanced in his hands. "Um," I said, blushing and trying not to giggle. "Yes, Master?" "Are you all right?" "Master," I gushed, sitting back on my heels and stretching again. "I am better than ever!" When I retired to the kitchen, I thought Dominique would fall back to. They felt so real. Too real. I felt like the dirtiest slut waking up every morning with panties soaked from the imaginary fucking in every position and place that I would get 3 or 4 nights in a week. If this was what he did to me in my dreams what the hell would he do to me in person??? I had to have him. It was a required need. I began to wear provocative tank tops that showed the curve of my heaving breasts, shorts that would entice him into looking directly at the forms of the fabric. More

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