It's a Friday night and the club was as empty as it had ever been.
The moonless rainy night scaring all the would-be unicorn fems away.
My master was upset as we were sure to bring home a girl for yet another threesome to relinquish
the five-day load of cum he harbored deep in his balls for us.
It was a quiet ride home as I never coaxed my master into feeling better after learning
that lesson the hard way so many months ago when he enslaved me for the first time.
When we arrived home I prepared master a cold drink, a shot of scotch and a single ice cube.
I slept away to the shower as he always preferred me to stay as clean as possible for him at
any moment's notice.
When I came back the ice cube had melted but he hadn't even had a sip.
I swallowed hard as I knew my master was still boiling inside with rage.
It all happened so quickly.
I approached him from the front to ask if his scotch was okay when I noticed the tent
he was hiding in his jeans.
When I dropped my knees to ask him his fancy he grabbed my throat and lifted me back up
to my feet.
Instantly I felt the heat ignite between my thighs as my terry cloth robe fell to the
carpet exposing my wet, supple form.
My master threw me against a wall already knuckled deep in my cunt, plucking at straight
hairs with his many rings.
He turned me around instantly pressing his hot, fleshy rod into the crack of my ass thrusting
once to adjust it against my pussy.
I wasn't yet wet to the slit and when he plunged into me the first few thrusts were dry and
painful.
He spread my juices to the base and instantly I was relieved.
Was my master not upset anymore?
That was my last coherent thought that night.
I heard a familiar click and felt a cold sweat instantly chill the top of my neck.
Master was not alright.
He told me to turn around slowly.
As I did in the darkness I saw the glare of the revolver's chamber meet my eyes as though
it could be the reflection of my lifeline.
My throat was dry as every drop of me raced for the swollen nub between my legs.
Out of instinct I began to fell at my master slowly at first, cautiously eyeing the end
of the gun.
I bobbed up and down in the thick bulb in my mouth.
I crammed my tongue into his slit as far as I could, flaring it open to his pleasure.
As I did this, Master inserted a single bullet into the revolver and whipped the chamber
around wildly, leaving the bullet in any random chamber.
He looked me in the eyes and told me, now this one.
Ever before had my heart skipped so many beats my hands trembled, feeling so afraid.
Carelessly, sloppily, I put the end of the gun into my mouth.
It tasted bitter like sucking a penny.
It was cold and hard and not at all like my master's cock.
He began to push it forward in my mouth.
I gagged and he laughed.
We did this, just this, for some time.
Strands of my pussy juice hit the floor from my swollen cunt.
He made me masturbate for him.
He told me not to come.
As I made a whimper to indicate my orgasm was coming, he pulled the gun from my mouth
and inserted it halfway up my cunt.
It raged only a few inches inside, but instantly I was weak to its girth.
He told me to come.
As I felt my orgasm approaching like a tsunami, he pulled the trigger back.
Just as I felt the first contraction take me, he spoke loudly, bang, pulled the trigger.
My body winced, my brain confused.
My orgasm was now a hybrid of fear.
I broke into a violent sob mid-orgasm, nearly voiding myself as the orgasm shook my psyche
apart and I fell to the floor, unsure if I was having a seizure or an orgasm.
After some time, I looked up at my master.
He was smiling at me softly with love in his eyes, and his fingers was the bullet he had
never even loaded into the gun.
I was never at stake, but I never had known.
My master was far too sweet to me.
He welcomed me into his arms as I shook and cried with recoil and happiness combined.
For the first time ever, he masturbated himself as a mock gesture that it was alright.
I drifted off on his chest, knowing fully well I would never be myself again.