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her wetness. It was cold and hard and despite her original misgivings, it felt wonderful. She moved it back and forth slowly.
    “Master. Oh, Master.”
    “Tell me. Tell me what it feels like.”
    “Hard, smooth, oh lord, so very good. Please, Master, let me touch my clit. Let me come.”
    “No, not yet. Push it in as far as you can, and then hold it there. Just lie back on the bed when it’s buried deep inside you.”
    It was all Grace could do to follow his instructions. She wanted to come, needed to come.
    “I’m about to come, Grace. I’m stroking my hard cock, thinking of you licking it like a lollipop. When I’ve come, I’m going to go back to my friends in the main room. Then I’ll think about you, lying in your bed with a candle buried deep in your pussy, buried in you because I want it to be.”
    His breathing was more ragged. “You’re on the honor system for this. If you can lie in bed for fifteen minutes, perfectly still, then you can come. If you move an inch, I want you to take the candle out, clean up, and go to sleep. I’ll want a report tomorrow night and I’ll expect you to be totally honest. Do you understand?”
    His words were husky, and seconds after Grace said yes, she heard him moan out his orgasm. How she wanted to be there so she could watch, see him in his passion; passion induced because she’d done what he’d asked her to do. The sound of his pleasure almost pushed her over the edge.
    She took a deep breath and held it to keep herself from climaxing. She focused her thoughts on lying still, and the thin chain of self-control almost snapped when Master’s deep voice sounded in her ear.
    “Fifteen minutes, Grace, starting after you turn off the phone. I’ll talk to you tomorrow night.” Then the line went dead.
    Grace turned off the phone and sank into the mattress. She could feel the candle inside her, her folds throbbing around the hard wax. She wanted to move it in and out of her pussy until she came, and she knew she would come hard.
    Think about Master. You want to be totally honest tomorrow when you tell him that you did as he said. She started to count seconds in her head, smiling to herself as she imagined Master standing near the bed, watching her fight the urge to complete what he’d started.
    She focused her mind on counting seconds the way her mother had taught her. The number followed by the word
Mississippi
. One,
Mississippi
; Two,
Mississippi
. The candle seemed to swell. The throbbing in her clit turned into a full-fledged pulse. Her nipples felt like hard diamonds. She fought the urge to move by focusing her thoughts on Toffer, on what he was doing. He was surrounded by his hotshot Hollywood friends, and he was thinking about her lying in bed with a candle in her pussy.
    After a few minutes that image faded and Master stood near the bed, a flogger in his hand. “How many minutes have gone by, Grace?”
    “Nine.”
    He was gently moving the flogger against his jean-clad legs. “Keep counting. Be a good girl. Count, Grace. There’s another minute gone by. What a very good girl you are. Only six more minutes and you can come. You can come hard.”
    His imagined praises strengthened Grace’s resolve and she closed her eyes. Did that count toward movement? She hoped not. Another sixty
Mississippi
’s passed, and then another, and the pulse in her clit turned into a pounding. She wasn’t going to make it. She had to come. Now. Only four more minutes and she felt like she was going to cave.
    “I’m so disappointed in you, Grace.”
    No. No. I won’t do it. Nine,
Mississippi
. Ten,
Mississippi
.
    “That’s it, Grace. Keep counting. Think about how much sweeter your orgasm will be because you waited, because you followed my instructions.”
    Grace focused inward. She wouldn’t disappoint him with her failure. She centered her feelings on pleasing Master and continued to count. When fourteen minutes had passed, she smiled and fought the urge to