Morning routine

Waking up in a room you do not seem to remember can probably be a scary experience, but as soon as your eyes land on Carrie’s sleeping form you are instantly reminded of the otherworldly situation you find yourself in. To hell with the room then.

You watch her sleep for a moment, recomposing the scattered thoughts you had formed yesterday, for what you wanted to do today. You had some general ideas of where to take things if she proved to be obedient, but first you have plans to try some things out in public. Besides, you wanted to have a look at her wardrobe, sort through what would be appropriate for the Girl to wear.

A tingling from your nether region surprises you, as you internally refer to Carrie by her new title. For some reason this power dynamic did things to you that you had never experienced before. Your hand reaches down for a chaste touch while your eyes roam over Carrie’s form, hidden beneath the duvet.

You had always played the role that life seemed to afford you, you used your smarts to succeed and you played the compliant little petite Japanese mouse to your superiors so they could think themselves better than you.

Gently you try to massage your pussy, but finding no satisfaction in soft touches you plunge two fingers inside yourself furiously, as you think back to past humiliations that you took in stride for the sake of pleasing others. For the first time in a while you feel like you might really be afforded some control, that you did not have to play your allotted stereotype to get what you wanted. This horny little slut had offered herself to you…

A jolt runs through your body and you arch your back as you cum. Huh, that sort of ambushed you, you think as you inhale a fresh breath of air. Was it just the act of thinking of her as… as a slut…? You had never cum that easily from masturbation before…

Shaking your head as if to dispel the thought, you shuffle yourself up from the bed and shake Carrie awake. “Carri- Girl,” you correct yourself, “no more snoozing,” she makes a gentle hum as her eyes flutter open.

You can practically see a replay of last night play out in her eyes as they frantically scan you. It would be amusing if it was not for the fact that you really want the day to start already.

“M-miss…?” she stutters, clearly doubting the events she just remembered had actually taken place.

“Come here,” you motion to the large closet standing next to her bed. “We’re going to correct your clothing situation…” Such a demand would have infuriated you, had someone made it at you, but Carrie only looked cautiously intrigued. You wonder what it will take to elicit a more shocked response from her? Perpetual nudity?

You had no interest in commanding that. Yet. Instead you throw open the closet and begin to go over its contents. A rack of dresses and tops and a bunch of drawers filled with various other articles of clothing. Nothing out of the ordinary, surprisingly. No latex or bottomless panties. You start picking out items and throw the ones you approve of on her bed. Everything else you discard onto the floor. Carrie… The Girl meekly sits by and watches you judge her stylistic choices.

Once done and after closing the doors again she perks up and looks to the pile on the bed. “Miss?” she tries. You had not ordered her that she could not speak freely but it is nice of her to assume that she needs your permission.

“Go ahead… Girl.”

“What will happen to that?” she points to the discarded pile.

“What do you think?”

“That I won’t be allowed to wear it…?”

“Correct, we’re going to discard the most modest crap. You only get to wear skirts and dresses from now on and only tops that either shows off your midriff or accentuates your tits,” you can see her bite her bottom lip as she tries to repress an aroused jitter. “Something you want girl?”

“I’m…”

“Speak up!” for a split second you feel bad as you see her startled, but you remind yourself that she wants this.

“I’m horny Miss, could we…?”

“I will not entertain vague requests Girl, you will have to specify what you want…” you pretend an annoyed tone, admittedly her submissive show is making you horny again.

“Miss, could we have sex please? I would like to cum…” not a lot of hesitation this time. You wonder if she is pretending, the times that she does hesitate…

“After breakfast if you’re good and do everything correctly,” a sweet smile graces her lips and for a split second you are almost tempted to just treat her like a normal girlfriend. “Now, I’m going to go watch the morning news. You are going to make us breakfast. Surprise me,” as she runs towards the bedroom door you stop her. “Wait,” you command, “no clothing, if you have an apron you may wear that.”

You said you were going to watch the news but in reality, the newscaster is just droning on in the background as you watch the Girl work the kitchen in her naked glory. As it turns out she does not possess an apron, something you have made a mental note of needing correction. She takes her sweet time, apparently not extremely adept at cooking, which you find somewhat surprising given her supposed submissiveness. How has she gone so long being submissive like this without proper kitchen training? Clearly men have been falling over themselves for her so none of them ever deigned to demand housework of her in a misplaced attempt to be the gentleman.

Finally, she approaches with a plate and a bowl in each hand. In the bowl is yoghurt with an assortment of berries and on the plate are scrambled eggs and bacon. “I didn’t know what you’d like Miss, so I made two dishes!”

“Good girl,” you coo, making her take the tiniest of happy jumps, causing the cutlery to clank against the containers. “Since you have been such a good girl,” you make a dramatic pause, “I will allow you to choose which you want. I can't eat both.”

“May I have the yoghurt then Miss?” one eyebrow had a slight tilt, apparently she is expecting there to be a catch. She is right.

“Yes,” you say as you pull off the t-shirt you had gone to bed in. “Give it here,” you can see her pussy is leaking, clear fluid travelling down her legs. She hands you the bowl and you feign a clumsy touch, to tip it over and spill its contents over your chest. “Oh no,” you mock-gasp, as the bowl bounces off you and lands somewhere on the carpet, without breaking luckily. “Silly girl, what do you think you should do about that?”

She watches a blueberry travel down the swell of one of your breasts as you lean back into the couch. “I should clean it up Miss,” she mutters, transfixed by the substance covering your upper body.

“How should you clean it Girl?”

“With…” she hesitates again, this time it is clearly pretence. “With my tongue?”

“Correct,” offering no more hints than that, the Girl drops to her knees in front of the couch and leans in to get the bit of yoghurt that got trapped in your navel first. As she licks the substance with the tip of her tongue you weave your fingers into her hair and take a hold of a portion of her beautiful brown locks. You decide against guiding her directly, electing to only hold a firm grip of her as her wet organ travels up your stomach and traces the underline of your breasts.

A pattern quickly emerges as she shifts her attention from one side of your tummy to the next, cleaning all the yoghurt that is not on your tummy first, along with all the berries. It repeats as she makes her way up to your breasts, with long broad licks over each, cleaning first the underside, then the side facing away from the centre of your body from each and finally she flattens her tongue and licks in between the valley only leaving the berry-covered tops and your nipples messy.

By this point you have started groaning heavily at her expert tongue skills. Each lick sends pleasing sensations to your groin and you cannot help but push her face into your body with slight ****. Her sexual experience is clearly more advanced than yours, hopefully your smarts and your creative mind can help you catch up.

Teasingly she licks the yoghurt around each berry that has settled on the slope of your breasts before she sucks each of them into her mouth, leaving small red suction marks behind. By the time your nipples are the only parts left to tend to, you have a dozen of the lip-shaped marks all across your chest, the oldest ones fading away as her tongue sneaks its way towards its first nipple.

Her hands join her oral ministrations as she grabs a soft hold of each tit, gently framing them both before experimentally circling one nipple with her tongue. After familiarizing herself with your tender tip, she makes a show out of the dance her tongue has with your nipple after licking away the remaining yoghurt, her brown eyes locking with yours, staring up at you as she first runs her tongue's entire length over the nipple and then rapidly makes short bursts of licks with the tongue-tip across it. You feel your back arching and your free hand flies off to the side to find purchase somewhere on the couch to hold you in place.

“Good girl,” you praise through a strained moan, attempting to keep your stare locked with hers, not willing to give over complete control, not already.

An excited hum escapes her as she shifts her attention to the other nipple. The hand she was using to hold the now abandoned tit comes up to reoccupy the nipple, squeezing it gingerly and rolling it between her fingers, as she makes a similar show of the other. She makes fast licks at it, up-down first, then side-to-side before she raises herself up on her knees, she makes a pause and blows a puff of air on the nipple first, just before she engulfs it entirely with her mouth, pressing her lips into your breast.

Then she sucks.

And that is when you feel your second orgasm of that morning wash over you. Pure white bliss envelops you as you come undone. By this point her eyes have long since closed, to let her focus on sucking, leaving you the winner of the staring contest. Your eyes fly up into your head before you close them, surrendering yourself to the release.

Carrie, the Girl, gently kisses the sides of your breasts as you come down from your high. You release the hold you had of her hair and instead elect to stroke it gently. Eventually you pull her up on the couch to lie with you and the two of you cuddle for a few minutes before you feel ready to return to whatever was supposed to happen today.

“_Very _good girl,” you whisper to her. “You deserve to cum I think.” Again, she wags her butt at the promise of a reward and finally you allow yourself to laugh at her eagerness. “I’ve never been a religious person Carrie,” she makes a wondering expression at your use of her name, “but if there is such a thing as a god, I’m pretty sure you’re a miracle.”

For a moment she looks stunned, a chaste blush creeping across her cheeks. “Eep,” she shrieks as you slap her pillowy, naked ass, bringing her back down to earth. She makes a slight giggle, her eyes focusing on something off to the side. “Miss, if I had chosen the eggs would those have spilled too?”

You glance over at the plate on top of the table. “Probably not,” you admit. “You would probably have had to eat my yoghurt then…” the thought of pan-ready eggs scorching your sensitive boobs was not a pleasant one. Your eyes fall back on the plate and you speculate a bit about your own hunger. You decide that you aren’t interested in soggy bacon and lukewarm eggs.

“Come, let me give you the reward you’ve earned in the shower. Then we will get dressed and go out.”

“Yes Miss!” she exclaims and shows you to the bathroom.