3 comments/ 19325 views/ 1 favorites His Chair By: kneelingsilently He stood at attention, his eyes staring straight ahead, as she circled him. Every few seconds she would slap the tip of her crop against her palm with a light "whap." A nervous twitch shook his body a bit. His naked body, completely exposed to her hazel eyes. One of the crop's blows struck the slave in his rear instead and a yelp escaped from his lips. The lady smiled. She wore a lovely purple corset, tied not so tight as to make her uncomfortable, with matching panties and heels with black silk stockings. She knew his fetishes well, and they would definitely have an affect on him. She traced a line from his groin all the way up to his chin with the tip of her crop and softly said to him "Remove my panties." This slave has such a soft touch, she thought, as he hooked his fingers around her bottoms. His knuckles brushed against her stockings as he fell to his knees at a slow pace. The Lady was happy that he chose to perform this carefully and didn't resort to tugging them off like an animal. He was face to face with her pussy for a brief moment before rising back into place. She took a glance around at his room. A rather normal looking room with a sofa, a television, a coffee table, and just like most men he had "his" chair. A spot for the master of the domain to plant himself after a hard day at work. This one was a leather easy chair, quite large, and rested just a few feet from a fireplace. Some of these thrones looked as if they had been passed down from one generation to the next. Rips and tears were patched with duct tape while broken legs were fixed by putting a phone book underneath. William's had none of these signs. It was rather new as he had just moved to this city two years ago. It felt... strange to the young man as he watched the Lady sit herself down in "his" chair. Neither of the two women he had dated since moving here had done what this woman had just done. If he was feeling possessive about it Melissa couldn't tell, though, as he didn't utter a single word in objection. The leather squeaked as she wiggled her behind to get herself comfortable, which wasn't very hard. The cushions were particularly soft and just seemed to mold themselves to her figure. She let herself go limp and just relax for a moment while staring at the fire. "Get down on your knees and remove my heels," she said. It was a very soft voice, William thought. She never raised her voice at all. The words were spoken as a simple command as her eyes watched the fire the whole time. He knelt down and placed a soft kiss on each shoe right before slipping it off her foot and setting it aside. He stayed there, motionless, staring down and waiting for Her to speak to him again. Her hand drifted to an end table by the chair that had a half-dozen magazines scattered on it. Time. National Geographic. The usual. She picked up Time and started to idly flip through the pages. She closed it for a moment and stared at him. He was trying not to show it, but the boy was nervous. He was pretty good at remaining still, but his breathing was quicker than normal. His eyes stayed down, looking upon her feet. She spread her knees and leaned towards him. She placed her hand on the back of his head and drew him in slowly. Pulled his face forward, closer and closer. Stopping and resting his head with his nose no more than an inch from her pussy. She lifted her left leg and draped it over his shoulder, leaned back into the chair, and flipped through the magazine. Occasionally she'd find an interesting article, but usually pretended to read while she closed her eyes and listened to the fire. William wasn't able to stare at that pussy very long before his imagination got the better of him. He wouldn't dare to let his tongue out for a lick without being told, but he could taste it in his mind all the same. Staring at that lovely slit. Taking in its scent with every breath. Wondering what it might feel like wrapped around him. His cock had stiffened considerably. It was aching. Wanting. His breathing was more rapid. He closed his eyes, trying desperately to get his mind of it just a little. The scent still struck him square in his face, but it was helping a little. It was helping. Until he felt a sharp smack on the top of his head. He peered up at her and the scowl on her face. Her voice wasn't raised but disappointed. "Don't turn away. I want your eyes on it. Keep them open, and looking straight ahead. Am I clear?" William nodded his head and set his gaze back on the Lady's pussy. She shifted her right foot to rest against his cock and lightly rubbed the silk against it. She set the magazine down and turned her head towards the fire, looking into it. Her hand slid down to her lips and her fingers slid up and down her slit very slowly. The scent was overpowering. The pussy was starting to glisten just a bit. William's cock was stiff against the side of her foot. It turned her on. Not just that he desired her, no, but how well-behaved the boy was. It had been a whole hour since she placed his head down on the chair. It was just about time for her to go. She took her fingers from her pussy and spread some of her juices on his upper lip. She pushed at his shoulder lightly with her left foot, pushing him back to a position where he was kneeling straight up. And finally she started to rub her pussy on the seat of his chair, coating it with her scent. Claiming it. Marking it as hers. The Lady stood up and began to put her clothes back on. "I'm afraid I have to go home for the night, William. I do have some instructions for you, though. First of all, if you have any desire at all to serve me I strongly suggest you resist the urge to "relieve" yourself. And second," she began to smile to herself, "you are not to sit in that chair. Am I clear?" "Yes, Lady," he responded. And with that she walked out the door, the click clack of her heels outside getting quieter and quieter until only the crackling of the fireplace was left. He stayed there, kneeling, for quite some time before getting himself to bed. THE END His Ch. 03 Days passed, and with each one Pet noticed her body changing. Her already ample breasts were the first to take note of the hormones coursing through her body, seemingly swelling by the second, her areolae stretching and darkening, nipples lengthening. They had become sensitive- so sensitive!- and often when she was alone she'd cup and pinch and tease them, gasping to herself at the electric sensations. They had become heavy in her hands, the textures new and she luxuriated in the changes. She had never felt so erotic, so feminine as she did now, blossoming with her master's child. And so she could not help but admire her body, now 8 weeks pregnant without a hint to her master, in front of the mirror one bright spring morning. Already the changes were taking place. Her belly had always been soft, but now when she pressed it there was a definitive firmness, the bottom of it having a more defined convex shape. Her breasts, as mentioned, were larger, heavier, rounder. They screamed fertility, screamed of motherhood. And her hips were widening, stretch marks already appearing on the sides, her panties straining at them. It seemed to be harder to hide her weight gain than it was to hide her pregnancy- one of the truly strong symptoms she was experiencing was cravings. Not for anything specific, but seemingly for everything. She turned, admiring her silhouette once again before walking to the kitchen, intent on fulfilling her endless cravings. But just as she leaned into the fridge, she felt a presence behind her. She couldn't even turn around before her master caught her about the waist, leaning in as she gasped to whisper in her ear. "You really thought I was inattentive, huh pet? Didn't think I'd notice you puking and preening, and when your period didn't come?" He caressed her lower belly as he held her to his body, erection pressing against her bottom. His Pet squirmed a bit, pressing herself into him as she tried to turn to face him, but he only smiled. "Now you know you can't get away from me so easily..." He turned her around, roughly, and then scooped her up over his shoulder to carry her to the room, taking extra care not to put pressure on her belly, "Not telling me you were pregnant, Pet? How long did you really think that would work?" Not waiting for her response, he released her roughly onto the bed, where she lay on her back in stunned silence, eyes wide. And then he began. There was no foreplay, not gentle teasing. He held her hands down as he began to kiss her roughly, tasting her lips, biting them until they nearly bled. Moving down, he pinched her sensitive nipples, hard, until she screamed. At that, her Master's brow furrowed. "No more of that, Pet", he said, taking time only to remove her panties and stuff them into her mouth before he returned to his prior task, allowing her to moan and scream through the gag. Roughly, he grabbed her ass, lifting it, passing by her belly completely as he began to eat her out, lapping and sucking furiously at her clit. Her freed hands grasped at the bed covers and she moaned, crying out, tensing as she neared orgasm, her body made oh so much more sensitive by the pregnancy.... And then he stopped. Her head bolted upwards as she stared at him with wide eyes, nearly indignant at being deprived of her pleasure. He only chuckled, and went back to tormenting her swollen nipples, suckling at them, nibbling and groping as she moaned and moaned. As soon as he'd had his fill, he pulled her roughly off of the bed. "You've been very, very disobedient, Pet, and you need to be punished. Place your hands on the bedpost at the foot of the bed." She did as she was ordered, a worried look crossing her face but not daring to argue. He secured her hands to the bedpost, fixing her in that position. She was still getting her bearings when the first slap came down on her exposed bottom. The chubby cheeks, chubbier still since her pregnancy began, shook and she let out a squeak audible even through the gag, a red handprint visible on the pale flesh. Smack! "You're eight weeks, Pet? So then four weeks you could have known... that's only four on each cheek. You ought to count yourself lucky." Smack! She gasped again, squirming, moaning, but all those squirms did was cause her to inadvertently wiggle her bottom temptingly. Smack! He switched sides, her left butt-cheek reddened from the spanking. "And now the other side." He said, winding back his hand. Smack! She was getting wet now, the spanking strangely erotic, making her feel like a naughty schoolgirl who had been caught at some mischief and was now getting the punishment she deserved. Despite herself she let out a little moan as the next smack sounded and her master chuckled a little, knowing the effect he was having on her. He stalled for a moment, letting the anticipation build up inside of her, but instead of another smack, he ran a finger up her exposed slit, relishing her gasp and wetness. "Well, what do we have here?" he asked, tone one of a teasing question. He knew exactly what his spankings did to her. "Looks like someone is enjoying her punishment." smack! "Is that good, pet? Do you enjoy having your plump little ass beaten by your master? I could think of other things to do to you in this position... But a spanking is deserved..." He waited another moment before releasing the last slap, watching the anticipation tense his pet's body up. Smack! He stepped back, admiring his handiwork. Her bottom was red, covered in the marks of the spanking she'd received. And her exposed pussy was glistening. This made him smile, and he stepped up behind her, hands on her widening hips as he leaned over her and growled in her ear "You're mine". This whisper was accompanied by a thrust, his manhood entering her deepest depths as she let out a moan of pure lust, one of his hands on her hip with the other on her belly. "Mine, Pet." Again, a thrust, building into a rhythm, each one accompanied by a growled "Mine", a word that made her shiver and moan. Never before had she been so thoroughly possessed by him, bound, unable to even see her master using her, one of his hands on the belly that he had filled, owning her inside and out. She moaned, pressing herself against him, begging him with her body to fill her more, deeper, harder. To take her more viciously, but his only answer was the repeated thrusting and the single, growled syllable "Mine" His, her rounding body. His, the baby growing inside of her. She was his, utterly his, mind, body and soul. His thrusts grew more frenzied, her moans accompanied by fists of hair, her bound hands reacting without conscious thought to the overwhelming physical and psychological sensation of being so completely possessed by her master, her lover, that nothing was out of her reach. Their orgasms built up together, hers made of masochism, pent up energy and the thrill of being owned, and his of hidden lusts, power and the sensation of possessing this woman. And then with a loud groan of release he came, hard, within her just as her own orgasm tipped her over the edge. If not for his hands on her hips, she would have fallen as her pussy milked the cum from his hard cock, buried deep inside of her fertile body. They stood there for a moment, panting, bodies still together, the sensation unspeakably blissful. And then he untied her hands, lifting her once more to the bed, this time her body atop his as he stroked her hair and whispered one final word in her ear as they dozed off to sleep. "Mine."