Emma hurries home from the appointment.  Everything from today, and especially now, feeling the wetness grow between her legs is almost too much for her. 

She is loving the feelings washing over her now; she so wants to stroke and feel her so-smooth legs, especially her thighs, and that other place, but she knows she shouldn’t. 

Home, Emma hurries to the bathroom and pulls her panties down and off.  They are soaking wet.  She put them in the sink, washes them, and hangs them to dry.  She would have liked to continue to feel the wetness against her, but she does want them clean for when Donald summons her. 

It's approaching mid-afternoon by the time she goes pantiless down to her living room and picks up the book she has been reading to try to distract herself.  It doesn’t really work; her mind keeps wandering, wondering what Donald’s touch and more would feel like when again she will be allowed to be in his presence. 

Her phone rings. 

She feels the rush that runs over her body, the butterflies in her stomach as she hears his ring.  She is actually shaking when she answers her phone. 

“Hello, Emma, did you enjoy your appointment?” 

“Yes, Sir. Thank you.” 

“I am glad you enjoyed it, I want you to show me in a little while.  Now I know the temptation is there, but do not touch yourself.  What are you wearing now?” 

“What you bought me, but not the panties.  I had to wash them when I got home.”  Emma hangs her head a little on saying this. 

Donald just chuckles softly, “Well I guess you really did enjoy today. You did the right thing to clean them.  And the show you will give me in a bit will be even better knowing there are no panties to take off.  I will call you a little later.  For now, keep yourself busy.  But be sure to be in your bedroom when I call back.”

Worrying about when the call will be, Emma hurries to the kitchen and makes herself a plate of cheese and fruit and with a glass of water and her book, she hurries to her bedroom. 

She spends the rest of the day there, trying to read, but only managing a page or two before her mind wanders down paths of possibilities before returning her attention to the book.  And she keeps looking at the clock to see if any time has passed yet.  She runs to the bathroom once but hurries, afraid she will not be where she should be when he calls.

Finally, after an agonizing afternoon around eight p.m., Donald calls.

She grabs the phone on the first ring.  She breathlessly says hello.

Donald laughs.  Oh, she is so ready to bend to his will. 

“So, are you ready to show me how lovely you now look? You know what you must do.” 

Emma nods to the phone, places it on the stand, and stands up in front of it. 

Slowly she raises her dress off her and lets it fall to the floor.  She stands in her heels, bottomless, with only the bra-lift exposing her nipples.  She hears Donald give a satisfying sigh. 

She reaches and unhooks her bra and lets it fall.  Now she stands before him for his viewing pleasure, in only her high heels.  Donald tells her to go sit on the side of her bed and spread her legs wide for him to enjoy a full view. She does as she is told. He commands her to lie back and lift and bend her knees on each side of her.  She does.

Donald has this wonderful view of her legs bent on each side of her in her high heels, able to see over her stomach to her breasts heaving and her nipples hard.  So delightful. 

Then he pushes her as far as he dares this soon.  “Emma, take your outer lips and spread them for me so I can really appreciate your charms.”

To his amazement, not hesitating at all, Emma does as instructed. 

As he zooms in on his view, his penis throbs, wanting to be released.  This picture he keeps for his later enjoyment; he does not want Emma to have too much of his attention yet or to let her feel she has any power in this. 

So instead, he tells her that she is to come to his house tomorrow night at six p.m. wearing her new outfit.  “I am sure you will be on time, this time,” and Donald hangs up.

Emma’s full body shudders as she hears the phone hang up. 

Tomorrow, finally, ooh but it is still hours away. 

She puts her new outfit away until tomorrow and then goes and cleans up.  Finished, she climbs into bed.  It is hardly past nine p.m. but she just wants to sleep until the time to see him comes.  But sleep does somewhat elude her.  She tosses and turns throughout the night, wakening and thinking, feeling a real pain go through her in her longing.  Finally, she does fall into a fitful sleep.  She wakes the next morning and lies in her bed with a smile on her face for what is to come. 

She starts calculating.

That first night at the Professor’s house had been a Sunday.  He sent her to buy the phone on Monday, and then she had confessed to him that afternoon and her punishment had begun.  All day Tuesday she had longed for him but had heard nothing.  Wednesday was when Donald had made her perform for him, and yesterday, Thursday, the new outfit and her appointment. 

And now, Friday, finally she is to see him again tonight. 

These five days of abandonment have been excruciating.  She only felt his touch for such a fleeting time, just that once, but it is enough for her to become addicted. 

She needs another fix, and another, and another.  Even when she is allowed just to see his face as Emma responds to each of his commands, it's an aphrodisiac for her.  

She ticks off the hours until she will be standing before him again.