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Master Slave?

By: Mystress_Carlie



Silk wanted to know about Michael's experience as a slave so as they lay in bed later that night, he told her everything.

It began on my eighteenth birthday; he began as she lay on his chest. My parents had made me stay at school for the holidays and I was really depressed. Christmas is no fun by yourself, but when you throw a Christmas Eve birthday into the mix, it makes for one hell of a lonely time. So I spent the whole holiday at school with the few others that had also been left behind. Now mind you, our holidays begin the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and don't end till the first Monday after New Years, so that's a long time to spend without loved ones.

So anyway, we had some fake ID's and had been going to this bar regularly where we also met some girls from the all girls school five miles from our school. Drinking and sex were the order of the day most days. I had gotten sick and tired of what I could only call normal sex by that time and was just usually going through the motions with a girl. I would screw her, get my rocks off and pass out. Hell I don't even know if they came most of the time. I just didn't care.

So my birthday came, and we found ourselves in the bar as usually, drinking to what the bartender thought was my twenty-fourth birthday. Some girl was coming on to me, but I just could get up enough gumption to care. Then She walked in the bar. 

Right off the bat there was something different about her. She exuded dominance and sexuality. All the guys tried hitting on her but she blew them off. I kept catching her watching me and finally she slid into the seat next to me at the bar. She leaned over and bit my ear, which turned me on instantly.

"I know you're not twenty-four," she whispered.

Turning and giving her a cocky grin, I said, "Sure I am wanna see my ID?"

"No," she purred in my ear, "I am pretty sure it's a fake and if the cops were to come they would knew it for sure."

I glanced at her wondering if she was a narc. Shit I thought and turned to leave, time to get the hell out of here. Before my feet hit the floor, she grabbed my arm and turned me back around to face her.

"Don't worry my pet. No one is coming," She said with a sexy smile, "Tell you what, come home with me, and I won't tell the bartender. Your little game can be our little secret."

I studied her; she seemed to be in her mid twenties. I wondered what she wanted with a young stud like me. Then a light bulb flashed, "Look, I don't pay for sex lady."

She laughed, "Don't worry pretty boy, I don't want you to pay with money," then she got serious, "Now come home with me or I'll tell the bartender your real age," when I still resisted, she added, "Come pretty boy, trust me."

Trust me, those words came to mean a great deal to me over the next year. They were spoken whenever I was hesitant and even now I find them coming from my own mouth as I teach you. So trust her I did, and I left the bar and got in her car with her. She took me to her home. As she let us in, I remarked that if she was hooker, she was doing really well. 

She led me into the living room and told me to sit as she fixed us some drinks. As she brought them to the couch, handing me one, she finally asked, "So how old are you really?"

"Eighteen today," I informed her proudly.

She gave a low whistle and gave me a grave look. Then she thought better of what she was thinking and said, "Okay, I know who you are Michael St. Paul, so trust me when I say this isn't about your money," again those words.

I said okay as she slid into my lap and began kissing me. We necked on the couch for a while before she stood and led me to her bedroom. Once on the bed she took over and pressed me down on my back. Suddenly I felt cold steel snap closed on my wrist which was above my head. I jerked my wrist and began to push her off me.

She pushed me back down and said, "No Michael, trust me. I won't hurt you. It's part of the game."

Something in her eyes told me that she was on the level, that I could trust her and so finally I allowed her to cuff my other wrist to the bed. Next she tied my ankles also. As soon as I was secure, she jumped up and grabbed a few items off her dresser. I strained my neck trying to see what she was up to. Then she approached the bed and I saw a pair of scissors in her hand. 

"If you make a sound I will stop and send you home, is that understood," She asked.

When I nodded she proceeded to cut my clothes from my body, with no regard to the fact that my pants cost a hundred and forty-five dollars and my silk shirt was a three hundred and twenty dollar specially made for me. 

Once I was naked, she placed a blind fold over my eyes. It made me nervous, but I felt that I could trust her so I gave into the feelings. She left for a few moments and when she returned I heard her light a match and smelled a candle. She came up to the bed and I felt something caress me. It started at my neck and when down to my feet. I didn't know what it was until she brought it down in a light sting on my thigh. A riding crop, I now knew. The sting didn't hurt but the reaction to it seemed to shoot straight to my cock.

Next she straddled me and I felt ice on my chest, then just when it got too cold, something hot dripped on the spot where the ice had been; hot wax. I arched up in response and she slapped my nipple with the crop.

"Down boy," she laughed. She then changed tactics, "Stick out your tongue," She ordered.

Trusting her, I did as ordered. I felt silly laying there with my tongue sticking out but did not have time to think as she leaned over and bit me on the tongue. 

"Are you a good boy or a bad boy," She asked.

Not totally knowing what she meant, I replied, "A good boy."

"Not after tonight," Came a laugh.

Then I felt her shift on the bed and felt her legs on either side of my face, "Stick out your tongue," She ordered again.

I again did as ordered and this time I got a different feeling. Slowly she lowered herself over my face and told me to lick her. She rode my face till she was on the brink of cumming and the stopped and shifted around yet again. Suddenly I felt something cold on the tip of my cock. She had taken a piece of ice and was rubbing it just around the tip. Then she placed the ice in her mouth and crushed it up and proceeded to give my first ever blow job. High school girls were not into that yet so I was pretty inexperienced in that area.

She kept this up till I was close to cumming and the stopped. Next she spent what seemed like an hour kissing and rubbing every inch of my body. What I didn't know was that she was also inspecting me. It felt like heaven even though she would also deliver little slaps with the crop here and there. The slaps hurt but it was a good hurt.

Finally she asked, "Do you want it?"

"Yes I hissed," through clinched teeth.

Smack came the crop, "Yes what? From now on, you're my slave and I am your Mistress."

"Yes my Mistress," I said.

She then slowly lowered herself on my cock and started to ride me. After a few moments she started to shake and she came so hard that she collapsed on top of me when it was over. After she regained her strength I could tell that she still meant to tease me when she asked, "Would you like me to continue slave."

"Yes my Mistress," I begged.

"Then I will sit here on top of you and if you want it, you will have to do all the work," she said with a hint of laughter in her voice.

So being still cuffed and tied down, I somehow found a way and when I came it was the best of my entire life up to that point. Later I had bruises on my wrists and ankles for over a week but it was worth it. Oh was it worth it.

Finally she got up and cleaned me off but left me still tied to the bed. She covered me up and told me to sleep for a while. I tried but was too keyed up and nervous to give in to sleep. I heard her take a shower and could smell the soap she used. It is funny how smells are something a slave remembers and notices, especially when they are blindfolded. I could smell her and the candle and the smells will always take me back to that moment.

After her shower was over, I could hear her moving around the room, but she said nothing to me. Suddenly I felt her lips on my soft cock once again and with in seconds it was hard. Then she stopped and untied me and let me go. As I took off the blindfold, I noticed a pair of jeans and shirt on the chair next to the bed.

"Get dressed," she told me.

I dressed and she led me out to her car. She drove me back to the bar and as I got out of the car, she handed me a card with her address and phone number on it and said, "See you tomorrow night slave," and after a yes my Mistress from me, she drove away. 

I stood there for a minute or two, then got in my car and went back to school since all my friends had already left the bar hours ago. Once back at school and in the privacy of my own room, I thought over what had just occurred and decided that it was the best sex I had ever had. I knew then that my life was changed forever; I was ruined for normal sex. While I didn't necessarily like being her slave, I knew I could put up with it for a while. Somehow I would have to tell her that I would rather be on the other side. I wanted to be the one giving orders, giving punishment. I wanted to be the Master. 

Master/Slave



She couldn't see what was happening to her. The blindfold across her eyes left her in complete darkness. Her breathing was heavy with anticipation of the expected scene that she knew would take place. Her body was relaxed, though it wanted to tense. She knew what to expect, as this was their routine. She had been a very bad girl. Master had warned her many times not to do what she did; yet she did. And it was good. She couldn't help herself. Thinking of him and what he did to her, the way he made her feel...how could she not? 

He left her wanting him. The way he teased her, spanked her. Everything about him drove her mad. All she wanted was to feel. 

She stood with her back to him. She knew he was behind her; his breath on her neck was sending chills all over her body.

He made her wildest dreams come true. Showed her what it was really like to submit to someone. She had many lovers that never truly knew what to do, until she met Master. 

Master had showed her the way. Showed her what it truly meant to be a slave. She worshipped him. Did everything he wanted, there was no need to hold back. He was very skilled at what he did. In their everyday life he wouldn't take control all the time but he was always there giving her a healthy reminder of what she could expect if she were to step out of line. And sometimes she liked to cross those lines, just to be punished. It was what she craved. What she desired. 

Master had said when they met she was such a naughty dirty girl. And she believed him, had felt that way even before he told her. Her dirty thoughts and desires kept her up at night, searching the Internet for the right thing to make her feel complete. 

And she found it, two years ago to the day. So she knew tonight would be something special. And if it weren't, she would make sure to push his buttons to make sure it would happen. 

"You know why your being punished, don't you, my little slut?" his voice firm and controlled. He never broke from his role when they played. But this wasn't just a game to him, or her. It was about learning a lesson. She had disobeyed him and he was angry. So therefore, he would punish her. 

"Yes," her own voice following his tone of control although her body didn't feel the control. Her body was quivering as he spoke. 

"Yes what, slut?" he never raised his voice. It was low, but loud enough for her to hear.

"Yes Master, I know why," her breath caught at the end. She knew what he was asking but yet she couldn't help but be the bad little slut she was. 

He placed his hand on her shoulder, gently. "Why must you be difficult? You know what I expect out of you. You are only going to make this more painful for you."

Yes, she wanted to shout. That was what she wanted. The pain. The pleasure it created in her body sending her into frenzy. 

"Yes Master, I pleasured myself when you weren't around." 

He tsked. And she knew he had a wicked smile on his face, but she dare not turn around. For that, her punishment would be no sex, no release. And she was craving the release like she had been starved for weeks, month's maybe. 

"Good, girl. You shall be rewarded later for that. But now, we get to the matter at hand. You disobeyed me," he moved in closer so that his mouth lowered down to her ear. He engulfed her. His massive frame seemed to guard and protect her petite body. She could feel his skin against her shoulder. She knew his attire, black leather pants that hugged his tight muscled legs. No shirt. Displaying his body as if it were a masterpiece for her eyes. 

Hers on the other hand was a tight bodice, black with purple lace. The many clasps up the front, holding her in. Barely. Her breasts swelled out the top, aching for a bite from his teeth. She always pushed them out because she knew that was his one weakness. He loved her breasts, would worship them when she was a good girl. But there might not be any of that tonight because she chose to disobey her Master. Her purple g-string barely covered her shaven pussy lips that started to drip with her lust for Master. Her legs covered in fishnet thigh highs that attached to her bodice. Her shoes painful on her feet gave her a few extra inches to his height, although not much. 

Masters hands took her wrists and pulled them behind her back in a forceful matter. But never hurting her. She had a higher pain tolerance then most and she told Master that he didn't have to be gentle with her. 

He gracefully but quickly bound her hands with rope, securing them behind her back. He grabbed the rope and pulled her with him. She heard the creak of a chair as he lowered himself onto it. He pulled her down to her knees and then over his lap. Her breasts pushed hard against his legs and through her bodice, she could feel the throbbing of his erection. He got off seeing her this way. So vulnerable to him. 

She wanted to disobey again. Strip him of his pants and suck his cock into her mouth. She wanted the taste of him inside her. But she wouldn't get her release. And she wanted that. 

"I love your sweet ass in the air like this. So round and begging for my hand," he said. 

No sooner was that said hand coming down on her ass. Smack. This one wasn't hard. They never were in the beginning. He liked to build them up. Master knew she wanted them hard and fast. He did his best to torture her, make her whole body ache so that when they were hard and fast he would flip her over and fuck her until she couldn't move. He would make sure that both ass and body were sore from his punishments. 

"Count for me, slut. I need you to know how upset I am with you."

"Yes Master."

He tsked again. He liked to make sure she understood what was happening. He wanted her to repeat what he was going to do to her so she knew what was being asked. That was what a good submissive does. She knows what to expect from her Master. 

"Yes Master what?" his voice hard.

"Yes Master, I will count for you," a tremble came to her voice.

"Good girl," his voice rewarding.

As his hand came down, she counted. One, two, three, four, five...

Then he switched sides. One, two, three, four, five...

She could feel the pain and the pleasure begin to mix as he continued each swat. Her counting never quieted. She always made sure her voice was clear, showing no sign that she wanted it to end. 

He did five more on each side and started to caress her red swollen ass. Oh the pain, it hurt so damn good. She loved the feel of the sting and his hand massaging, letting her know that he was their to take care of her filled her heart with more love then she ever had for someone.

"Have you learned your lesson now?"

"Yes Master. Oh, yes I have," she could feel the tears forming in her eyes. He had given her what she wanted and now she was so very wet for him. 

He took her by the hair and lifted her up, forcing her gaze on his. His eyes all she could see was love, and she returned the look. She had never loved anyone like Master. He made her feel so complete. 

"That's my good girl. And now, since I am feeling very generous, I will play with your breasts. I want to taste them in my mouth, bite them. I can feel them now on my tongue. You know I love your tits," a hint of a smile crossed his hard face.

"Whatever you would like Master. I am always yours to do what you wish with," she lowered her eyes away from him. 

His hand cupped her chin and pulled her towards him. His mouth came down on hers in a hot, passionate kiss. Heat built up in her pussy and she could feel so very close to coming. She couldn't wait for him to touch her, tease her. All too soon his mouth pulled away and he made his way down to her breasts. She loved it when he suckled on her tits. 

Master nipped hard at her mounds that pushed over her bodice. She wanted the damn thing off. She wanted more of the sweet torture he was giving her. And then, as if he had read her mind he was ripping the bodice off of her flesh. His eyes were fixated on them, taking in the sight of how perky and pink her nipples were. The sweet little hard buds begging for his mouth. His tongue came out and swept along is lips, imagining what those tasty little buds felt like in his mouth. His mouth came down on her, like a hungry lion not wanting to wait to sink his teeth into his prey. Her Body arched up into his. Her mind going out of control from all the pleasure. She was sure she would cum just from this. 

She didn't know what it was about Master loving her breasts the way he did but it made every nerve ending in her body spark to life. It was what really got her engine going, made her heart hammer in her chest. 

His tongue swirled and danced, licking a slippery trail all over her mounds. His hand caressing her body. Slowly, oh so slowly she thought she might die, his hand dipped underneath her panties and into her folds. Taking her juices and sliding his finger up and down and in and out of her pussy. Her body was hot, drenched in sweat, both his and hers. 

"You are so fucking wet, slut. God, I bet you can't wait much longer," he snickered. 

She looked up at him, longing to say what she wanted but knew if she spoke he would stop everything in the moment. He would make her suffer and she was in no mood for that. She wanted this. Need to feel him pounding deep inside her, filling her until she couldn't take any more. 

His mouth came back down on her breasts, and she moaned in pleasure. She had to bit her lip from screaming out what she truly wanted. Her body wanting to let go of holding back the release she craved and desired. 

Master pulled back and quickly took off his pants. He positioned himself so that knelt between her legs. His fingers hooked around the band of her panties and slid them off. Her body shook from excitement of what was to come. He positioned his cock at her pussy and with one fluid movement; he pushed inside her so deep she let out a yell that rocked the walls. 

"That's my girl, let it out. Let me know how good I make you feel," Master said as he pumped in and out of her.

She gripped his shoulders, pulling him close to her body. She loved the warmth from his skin against hers. 

"Oh God yes, Master...fuck me!" she begged.

His body pumped a steady rhythm. Her body matching his moves. She couldn't get enough. His hard cock pounded her pussy and she was lost in the moment. 

"Mmmm, sweetheart, you are so fucking tight. I can't hold it much longer. If you are ready, I want you to cum for me. Cum all over my cock," he whispered into her ear. 

The words were enough for her. Her body took over and all she saw was Master, moving in and out of her, pushing her body to its limits and beyond. As he fucked her, her walls began to squeeze his cock. No sooner was he too spilling his seed deep inside her. Their moans and groans filling the room. 

He collapsed on top of her. Both of them sated and exhausted. This had been one amazing session. She loved these moments when he would take her like she wanted him to. Make her feel that there was no one else in the world but him. 

He pulled away from her and looked into her eyes. Those deep eyes piercing into her heating her body up again. "You know what you need to do now don't you my little slut," it wasn't a question it was what she always did at the end of each session. 

She couldn't speak, her heart still racing so she settled for a nod instead. Master moved his body off of hers and she wanted to pull him back down just to feel his hard body pressed against hers. As he moved to his back she slide down his body, her hands running down the lines of his tight ab muscles until she got to his cock. The glistening of their juices covering the head and shaft made her mouth water and her pussy tighten with need again. 

Her tongue came down and as she cleaned his cock she couldn't help but feel that this was were she belonged. With her master there was no other place in the world she would rather be. He was hers and she was his. Two hearts that beat together and fit so well it turned into something truly magical. 

She lapped at his cock, growing hungry and craving him more and more. She heard the soft rumbles that formed in his chest and she new this was going to start all over again. She couldn't wait. 

"You are truly amazing, you know that?" Master said as he brushed her hair off her face. His eyes focused on hers and her heart swelled knowing that he was the love of her life. 

"As are you, Master," she smiled from ear to ear. No one could ever satisfy her the way he could. She knew that he would forever be all that she ever needed.



Master/Slave BDSM Session



Author's Note. This is a SPECIAL INTEREST (BDSM/Lifestyle) story; it is not intended to appeal to everyone. If you are not cognizant of, or do not approve of BDSM activities, this story is NOT LIKELY to entertain you. 

*

She had requested a BDSM session; we had a previous relationship as a Dominant and his submissive, but the 24/7 regimen was a bit much for both of us. Still, her (and my) remembrances of some of our more intense scenes has re-aroused her senses, and she is here to show me her increased need for pain. 

Lisa has come to the back door and knocked (I already knew she was there) and positioned herself as previously directed, facing away from it. She already knew my penchant for taking control right from the start. I opened the door, and she immediately kneeled, awaiting the leash/collar and blindfold that she knew would be affixed to her. I placed the metal choke collar over her head and slid it down across her face, and onto her neck. Remaining silent, I attached the leash to the collar, bringing her under my control. She remained silent; she knew to not break the rules that we'd so carefully cultivated during our relationship. She knew that speaking before being spoken to would cause 'punishments' to be applied. She moved her head up and backward, to assist me in placing the blindfold over her face. 

"Stand, slave." I would never refer to her by her given name during the session. 

I assisted her, placing my hand on her shoulder, and gently pulling her backwards through the door, into my home. My hand brushed her hair and gently caressed her face as I closed the door and engaged the deadbolt. 

"Do not move, slave!" I instructed her, whispering into her ear. "From this point on, your movement will be controlled by me. You will see me when I allow you to see me; when you have earned that privilege. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

She was already trembling. "Yes, Daddy." Her voice was quivering. I could sense her already moving deeply into her submissive aura.

I began to channel her emotions into natural reaction to my voice and physical manipulations. Pressing my body tightly against her from behind, I ran my hands over her arms and around her waist, then sliding them up her front, brushing her breasts, gently, then firmly squeezing them, causing an involuntary gasp to escape her lips. Her body is reacting I could feel her buttocks pressing backwards, seeking the hardness she knew would be found inside of my robe. My hands continued moving upward, moving to her painted and wet lips. Her mouth was already parted, and her tongue darted out, seeking contact with my fingers. 

But it was too early to allow her to go where she wanted to be taken. She couldn't have that, not just yet. Still pressing into her buttocks, making certain she knew that 'the prize' was already hard and throbbing in anticipation, I moved both hands down across her neck, encircling it to make certain she understood MY need for control. I tightened my hands around her throat, and she arched her head backward in natural submission, showing complete access and compliance; she's indeed a sensual, submissive creature, intent on being totally consumed by the sexual fires that motivate her. And tonight, her total, absolute, and utter submission is the only objective. 

"Come here, slave. See what I have for you today," I commanded her. I led her forward, gently guiding her and placing her hand on the kitchen countertop. 

"Take off your clothes, slut," I directed. "All of them. I want you naked. You have 40 seconds." She trembled, not knowing what is going to happen, but she hurriedly began to strip off her clothes. As she stripped, I accepted her outer wear, and placed them on a kitchen chair. I also looked to ensure that she had complied with my instructions that she was not to enter my home with either a bra or panties. With seconds to spare, she stood blindfolded and naked before me.

Again, I placed one hand at her throat; she easily moved her face upward, so that I had access to handle her there as I wished. As I tightened my grip, I could feel her communicating to me her need to have her airflow reduced; it's an issue of 'trust' between us. I eased my hand from her throat though, moving it to slap her gently on the side of her cheek. Airflow play and face slapping would simply be 'side play' this evening. 

I guided her into the foyer, and directed her into a submissive, kneeling position on the pallet that is there. She knew the drill; she spread her knees apart, and rested her buttocks on the heels of her feet, her face bowed, she moved her hands down the front of her thighs, palms outward. I found myself mesmerized, looking at her; she presented a very pretty picture in that position, like the perfect sub that I'd always wanted. She keeps her cunt completely shaved; it's a condition that Daddy Doms enjoy seeing in our submissives. It's also small and tight, with just the tiniest tip of her clitoris making an appearance. 

I caressed her face again, and then slapped her hard, to let her know that she is going to be enjoyed by me, but that her pleasure is also assured. It's also an unspoken signal that the next phase of the session is beginning.

I removed the blindfold from her face, but kept her head submissively bowed.

"Slave..." I moved her face upward, allowing her to look at me.

"Yes, Daddy?"

"Do you feel me, you little slut? Do you sense my control?" I raked my hand into her hair and grabbed it forcefully.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Who is your Master, slave?" I asked.

"You are my Master..."

"Slave, who is your Owner, your Master, your world?"

"You are, Daddy. I am nothing but Your slave, Your property, Your toy, Your slut to be used as you see fit," Her answer ended in a whisper, barely discernible to me. 

"Do you trust me? Do you trust my use of you this evening? Do you give of yourself completely... without hesitation?" 

"Without hesitation, Daddy..." she replied, her voice quivering and falling silent. 

"Good, slave... I would never harm you; a good submissive is too valuable to be harmed. But... I AM going to whip you... I'm going to smack your ass and flog you, tonight. And then, I'm going to fuck you senseless. Do you understand that, slave?"

"Yes, sir, I understand. And I need You to do all of that. I know You would never harm me, Daddy. I welcome Your use of me. I feel privileged to be allowed to give myself to You in this way."

Instantly... gruffly, I grabbed her hair, and pulled her face into my crotch, between the opening of my robe. Intuitively, lisa knew what was coming next. She could feel the surge of my cock, which was throbbing and dribbling precum in anticipation of being pleasured. 

"Grab the backs of my thighs, baby... Daddy needs to feed his little girl."

lisa moved her hands to me, steadying herself against my thighs. I removed my robe completely, and then grabbed the nape of her neck...

"Can you feel the heat from my cock, little one?"

"Yes, Sir, I can..."

"Then put the fire out, baby." 

She began to lick my cock hungrily, as if she'd denied herself food to leave room for this. My dick began to waggle wildly from the force of her tongue, pushing it upwards, and to the sides. Lisa worked me from the crown of my dick to it's base, down to the nutsack, and then back along the underside, leaving a 'snails trail' of wetness as she went along. 

I was on the verge of losing control, and I grabbed her hair, yanking her face away for a minute. 

"What're you trying to do, slut? End this before it even gets started?"

"I'm sorry, Daddy... I got carried away, a bit."

That was the opening I was looking for. 

"Then, let me show you what 'carried away' is like, bitch." 

"Suck me... Take the head into your mouth!" I commanded her.

She hesitated, looking up at me, questioningly, but her mouth opened again almost immediately, and her tongue began to probe outward, seeking the piss-hole of my cock. I pushed in roughly, to assert my control of this hot-mouthed sexual creature, this slut that I was about to mouth-fuck! Her eyes immediately opened wider, and I sensed the top of her throat contracting involuntarily as she attempted to adjust to the change in rhythm, from sucking and licking on my dick, to being fucked in the mouth. 

I pulled back, and looked down at lisa, making eye contact to be sure she knew my intentions. I saw her initial apprehension being overcome by a hunger to be used, to be throat fucked without end. That was one of the things I loved about her; she knew who she was, and had no qualms about giving herself fully, in fact to be shown again and again to be a total fuck and pain slut. Lisa NEEDED to be abused...

I began slowly thrusting my aching cock into her mouth, and lisa would lave her tongue along the underside of it upon each withdrawal. I pulled my hand up from her neck, into her blond hair, and steadied her head; the thrusts became progressively more aggressive, and soon I was pumping myself beyond the entrance to her throat. Lisa began to gag, and her eyes widened even more as she tried to accept the increasingly harsh and deep punishment of her throat. Lisa's eyes had begun to tear up, but she held steady, good little slut that she was. I fucked into her even more forcibly, making her gag, and saliva begun to push out of the sides of her mouth as I pushed in. 

I pulled back momentarily. "Is this too much dick for you, whore? Are you crying, 'baby?'"

"Don't stop, Sir..." She managed, as she regained some self-control. "I'll be okay. I need what you're doing..."

Wordlessly, I forced my cock back into her face, resuming the throat pummeling that she 'needed.' Her gagging became even more pronounced, and she pulled her face away several times. Each time however, she opened her mouth WIDE to let me know she didn't want to stop. I responded by slowing the fuck, gently stroking her mouth, and dick slapping her face. She accepted the change of rhythm, offering her face for me to bathe as I would with a face cloth. I grabbed her hair again, and pushed her face between my thighs, grazing her face with my low-slung balls. 

"Lick, slut..." I hissed. "Tongue clean my balls. Make me see what a true slut you really are!" 

lisa licked at my nutsack, then sucked each ball slowly and wetly, taking care to be gentle and thorough. I humped down, and pushed my balls at her, my cock rummaging up onto her forehead, with the crown into her already rumpled hair. I felt her tongue probing the base of my nuts...

Again grabbing her hair, I pulled her face away and commanded her...

"Open your face, bitch!"

She looked up at me, unapologetically, as if to (but didn't) say, "Why'd You stop me?" And opened her mouth. I noticed that her mascara had begun to run down her cheeks, creating a poster-picture of the ultimate slut being throat-fucked. 

Once more, I slammed my dick into her mouth, now face-fucking her in a lewd and even voracious attitude. She says she's my whore? Then, FUCK her like the whore she is! My dick seemed to have gathered even more length as the excitement built to the extreme. Lisa grabbed my thigh again, determined to hold on, as my cock pistoned into her mouth, down her throat. She was no longer gagging, but making really odd, meaningless sounds as if trying to say something. Words didn't matter at this point, though. Mouth fucking was the only thing that did matter 

Again and again I fucked into her mouth, until the saliva trail was dribbling down her breasts, and onto her stomach. With my free hand, I grabbed the choker collar (it was wet with saliva and pussy juices, too!) and pulled it upward, tightening itself around her neck. That was the ultimate effect; I was now humping myself into this slut's mouth, pushing her mouth onto my cock with one hand, and using the choker to keep her 'reined in' to my control. 

I pushed the entire length of my cock into lisa; I could feel her throat involuntarily spasming as the crown of my dick pushed deeply into it. She held herself completely still, as if wanting to savor the feeling of absolute submission. Knowing her wind passage needed air, I pulled out. And pushed right back in, again holding myself against her face. As I pulled back out this time, her eyes were blurry, tears running down her face, and she gasped for air, coughing uncontrollably. 

"One last time, slut... can you handle it?"

"Yes, Daddy... I'll try..." she cried, offering her face for the hard, wet, and still throbbing cock which she knew would again rummage past her tonsils and down into her throat. I positioned myself at her lips.

"Lick it, baby... Lick Daddy's fuckstick for Him..."

And she did. Lisa's tongue came out and began to lovingly curl all over my dickhead. She put one hand on the base of it, as if she was saying that it belonged (again) to her. 

"Use me-e, Daddy!!" she hissed, in a state of seemingly uncontrollable lust.

I pushed into her mouth again, making her remove her hand from it. She knew this push was going to be complete, forceful, and would last until she gagged. I grabbed her by the back of her head again, and pulled her face into me, moving my cock forward and backward a couple of times, to get her ready... I felt her mouth widen again, signaling that she wanted what she knew was coming. I pulled back a bit, and then pushed forward, pulling her face up and back to make the entrance as easy as possible. I was there! 

I could feel the base of my cock against her lips, and as I looked down at her, her eyes were again tearing from the force and the length of my cock down her throat. I grabbed the back of her head again, and pushed/released, again, and again, as if I were masturbating myself into her throat. I was determined to hold myself there until she gagged from being fucked or lack of air. Which didn't take long. Deep within her, the coughing, gagging and throat muscle reaction forced me to withdraw. As I did, I moved my hand to the side of her face, caressing and reassuring her that indeed, she was a 'true fuck slut.'

It was time to take the action to the bedroom. I directed lisa to 'all fours,' and attached the leash to the collar. 

"To the bedroom, slut..." She knew what that meant. I grabbed the riding crop, which had been on the foyer table, and tapped her ass with it, signaling her to begin. She crawled, on the leash as any submissive bitch would, down the hallway to the bedroom... Just beyond the entrance, she paused, seemingly awaiting any immediate use that I would have for her... 

"On your feet, slave..." I knew her knees were likely stressed from supporting her during the mouth fucking in the foyer. Lisa rose with my assistance, and stood demurely, in anticipation of my next command. 

"Get my flogger." As she heard my direction, Lisa immediately moved towards the closet, where my 'tools' for the evening were arranged. "And while you're getting it, I want you to remove the one tool from the arrangement—move the one which you would rather NOT feel, tonight."

Within seconds, Lisa returned with the flogger, and presented it to me, one hand under each end of the tool. She bowed her head and clasped her hands together in front of her pubis, in continuance of her submission to me. 

I looked at her sternly, but with the calmness that we both took to indicate a shared need for what would happen this evening. Lisa knew, and I knew that as well that this 'play' was essential to her sense of being 'well used.'

Lisa surprised me, then. "Permission to speak, Daddy?"

"Speak, slave."

"Thank you, Daddy... I just want you to know that I NEED to feel Your power... I NEED to feel You taking me, using me, whipping me... I appreciate that You've already fucked my throat, and now I want to feel the power in Your hands as You beat and flog my ass. Don't hold back Sir?? I know You do that sometimes, because You don't want to hurt me... That's why I'm asking You—I'm BEGGING You, Daddy. Beat me... make me hurt! Please? Thank You for allowing me to speak, Sir."

"Stand in the corner, slut!" I was in awe that this bitch had requested full power Dominance and punishment. I was determined to use her as a common bitch in heat would expect to be used. And, I would indeed beat her as if she had just been caught fucking my best friend...

Lisa moved to the corner, and faced straight ahead. I moved behind her, so that she could sense, and become apprehensive of the blows she knew weren't going to be long in coming. 

I lifted her hands and arms straight up, and leaned her into the corner, until her hands touched the corner crease. I spread her feet wide apart so that I had access to her cunt. I reached in between her ass cheeks, and felt for her pussy lips. They were already juicing, and dripping down the insides of her thighs. 

"Do not move, not one muscle," I growled at her. 

I pressed my hard cock into the crack of her ass, and grabbed her hips, pulling her backwards into my crotch. 

I blew my hot breath into the back of her neck, determined to tease and arouse her even more. 

"Stand still, slave..." I hissed into her ear. I stepped away from her.

The flogger brushed her back, and she tensed up, knowingly.

"Sww-aack!!" The first blow cracked onto her asscheeks. It was only a medium impact blow, to set the starting place for the onslaught that would follow it. 

Again, with emphasis... "SWW-A-A-C-K!! Lisa tensed up, involuntarily. She would adjust; she knew the drill. 

"Does that feel about right for starters, subbie?"

"Yes-sss, Sir..." she swooned. She enjoyed this 'foreplay pain.'

"Then, you'll love this!"

A series of strikes, alternating on each check with rhythm, one after the other... "SWW-A-A-C-K...!! "SWW-A-A-C-K...!! "SWW-A-A-C-K...!! 

Lisa winced, and her knees buckled just a bit. "Stand up straight, Slut!!"

"I don't want any whimpering from you... Not after your earlier begging!"

"I don't want you to stop, Daddy... It feels good!!"

Again... "SWW-A-A-C-K...!! "SWW-A-A-C-K...!! "SWW-A-A-C-K...!! an even longer series of intense strikes, some directly on the buttocks, but others up higher, reaching to just under her armpits. Stepping back to view my work, I could see the welts and some bruises crisscrossing her back and ass cheeks. I could also hear Lisa sucking in air, attempting to regain some composure. I ran two fingers across some of the welts, to gauge the severity of the punishment. Lisa winced again; the saltiness of the wetness on my fingers stung her through the openings in her bruises. 

"Daddy..." she hissed, sensuously. "You've got me right where I want to be, Daddy."

I smacked her ass cheeks with my hand, making the room echo with sounds, including her inhaling heavily with each blow inflicted. 

Lisa leaned further into the crease of the wall, seeming to want some leeway, some escape. But there will be no escape... Not now, anyway. I've been challenged by this slut, and I'm determined that she'll remember this night. 

(Lisa speaking...)

"" Instead of His hands, I felt the flogger brushing my back. He stepped further back, and I knew what was coming. Seconds later, I felt the crack of the flogger's lashes against my back, but instead of feeling the sting from their ends, I felt a sense of release. Yeah, that's funny, but I felt relief, as if each strike forced my tension away, replacing it with a submissive platform; a sort of foreplay, as Master said above. And, it was building up fast; each strike against my ass cheeks seemed to be an urging to sexual orgasm... Daddy flogged me, almost without pause, up my back, until the lashes were stroking across my shoulders. I began to feel the sting, but the pain was an erotic pain, co-mingled with a sense of endorphin-induced euphoria that I didn't want to lose contact with. "" 

I ran my palm into the crack that was her ass, and rubbed her hard, forcing her to spread her thighs wider apart. Then, I pushed further forward, feeling again for her pussylips. She loved that, and pushed her ass cheeks backward, opening her bottom up for exploration. I forced my thumb into her cunt, and began to masturbate her furiously, forcing her juices to squirt out around my thumb and down her legs. 




Master/Slave BDSM Session



Finally, her legs buckled, and her face made contact with the wall as she fought to continue standing. 

I slowed the pace, gradually reducing the frantic pussy pummeling with a caress of it, until she was welcoming each gentle stroke, pushing back in rhythm with my 'milking' technique. I allowed her to 'cool down' for a couple of minutes, just continuing to softly masturbate her with my thumb, while my fingers found and pressured her clitoris along with it. Finally, though...

"SWW-a-a-c-k...!! "SW-A-A-C-K...!! "SWW-A-A-C-K...!! The hand that had been caressing Lisa's swollen pussy found a new mission. I pulled away, and with the flat of my open hand, smacked her pussylips firmly, startling her. Her thighs tightened up, and her face jerked up from the wall. 

"Turn around, slave. Back against the wall." 

The rhythm changed, from my hand back to the flogger. I snapped the flogger upwards against her pussy. Lisa jumped. 

"Spread your legs, slave." 

She spread her legs apart, and I resumed lightly snapping the flogger tassels against her cunt wall. Lisa began to groan, and I could sense the flogger having the desired effect. She wanted to orgasm. 

"Does that feel good, bitch? Does that make you want to cum?"

"Yes, Daddy," she moaned. "Very much..."

"Have you earned a cum, slut?" I snapped the flogger against her cunt again, this time a bit more intensely.... 

"No, Sire... I haven't. I will wait for Your permission."

"And, don't you agree... That's how it should be? That's how it MUST be?"

I snapped the flogger up higher, lightly striking her stomach, and then up further, to give attention to her breasts and nipples. Her nipples got instantly rigid, and the little bumps showed themselves, seemingly wanting to be stimulated, also. 

I pressed my body into Lisa, forcing her straight up against the wall. My cock pressed upward against her belly, and I grabbed her ass cheeks, pushing her upwards against the wall. I moved my mouth to her throat and intently sucked the side of it, leaving a deep red bruise there as I withdrew. 

Moving back, I looked at her, finding her eyes closed tightly, her hair completely disheveled, and her mascara now a runny mess. I lowered my attention to her breasts, and began to fondle and suckle on them. Lisa's response was in a deep moan, and her hips began to swivel with erotic desire. She was still trying to cum! Continuing to suck and knead her breasts, I moved one hand back down between her legs, and groped her cunt furiously. She hunched forward, trying to capture my hand with her pussy! So, I hooked two fingers inside of her pussy, and pulled upwards hard, almost lifting her from the floor. I began to work her cunt hard, again masturbating her grotesquely while continuing to suck on her titties!

"Down onto the floor, baby..." I commanded her. 

Lisa didn't want to break contact with either my mouth or the hand that was fucking her, but slowly, she slid down along the wall, until she was laying on the floor, looking up at me. I stood over her, looking down. It was necessary to reinforce the dominance that we both knew was central to our play. I straddled her body, putting my hands on my hips, forcing her to look in acceptance of He who would use her like this. 

"Whose bitch are you, slave? Tell me, again."

"I'm Your bitch, Daddy, and I feel privileged that You still need to use me in this way." I saw what I needed to see in her eyes. She was indeed mine, to use as I see fit.



Master-Slave Connection



As soon as Helen got out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around herself, opened the bathroom door and peeked out into the living room. Nothing moved. The light from the computer cast an eerie glow into the room. She worried about leaving it unattended, as if something might crawl out through the screen, or that it might shut down or that he might get there early and, finding her not there, lose patience and just leave, but everything seemed normal. She told herself she was just being foolish—nervous. She closed the door and began to quickly towel off.

She slipped into her robe and took a fresh towel for her hair. She was lucky. Her long black hair was naturally curly and recovered quickly from washing, and in a few minutes she was presentable enough that she felt she could open the bathroom door and leave it that way. On these nights when she was going to see him she always kept it closed until her hair was at least decent, because she felt as though he was actually in the apartment, or could be at any minute, his spirit at least, and she wouldn't let him see her in disarray. It was a superstition, a game she played with herself, but she was acutely aware of the computer being on in the living room, quietly spreading its glow over the carpet and walls, beckoning like a window to another world, and she was similarly aware that he was on the other side of that window—Alex, her master. The door that connected her to him was open and his spirit and his power could come through, and would. What he took from her would be real.

Thursday nights were the best. Alex's wife visited her mother and he was alone. Roy had softball and then went drinking with the team and stayed at Phil's house to be close to work, leaving her alone as well. She didn't have to worry about being disturbed. Alex would come to her on her computer and make her do things: terrible, wonderful things she would never do on her own. She couldn't describe what it was like but it was like nothing else she knew. He took her over somehow, possessed her and set her free. He made her filthy and pure.

She picked up the blow-dryer and a brush and finished her hair, then took a fresh towel and walked into the living room to check the computer again. Nothing. The screen wallpaper showed a windy hill covered with wildflowers, and superimposed on that, her chat window was open. The cooling fan hummed, the cursor blinked patiently. She folded the towel and laid it on the desk, then took the mouse and made sure the sound notification for incoming messages was loud enough. She turned off some lights in the room to create a mood, then went to the corner and up the three stairs to the turret window.

The building had been a grand Victorian gingerbread mansion, now cut up into apartments for young couples with, incongruously, an off-campus coffee shop downstairs. Her place was on the second floor in the back with an old turret window in the living room, looking down upon the garden and a street that ran behind the place—an alley really—lined with old trees and lilac bushes that were dripping now in a foggy mist. There was a window seat at knee level, and standing there exposed on three sides, naked beneath her robe, Helen felt displayed and vulnerable, ashamed and aroused. There was no one around because of the drizzle, but the turret window exposed her like a princess in a castle tower, back-lit from the dim lights of her living room. She turned and stepped down, feeling excitement uncoil like rope from her stomach, and walked back into the bedroom.

He hadn't told her what to wear, but after two months together she knew his tastes. She'd even purchased clothes she thought he'd like and had been proven right, so she was pretty confidant. Roy never noticed and never asked her about them, but then, that's why she'd found Alex in the first place, because Roy just never noticed and never asked. He'd never asked her what she wanted in bed, never noticed what she liked, never paid any attention to her as her interests drifted towards the subject of women tied and captured and forced to perform lewd sexual acts Roy would never engage in. When she'd even hinted at them, he'd laughed and dismissed her as acting "sick".

Alex hadn't. From the first time she'd connected with him he'd seemed to know. He'd seemed to be able to reach inside of her and grab on to something and pull it out of her, and her whole soul followed. Though part of her fought him and resisted, the greater part loved being out of her own control and under his. She loved the fear of not knowing, of not being responsible.

She sat down at her table and did her face, then brushed out her hair again. From her bottom drawer she took out a new package of white stay-up stockings and slit it with her thumb nail, pulled them from the box and dangled them in front of her. She rolled one up and slipped it on her leg, then straightened it out and smoothed it in place, then did the same with the other. They looked wonderful—the pure, virginal white over the undulating curves of her legs. He'd be pleased.

She stood up and got out her new dress—a simple thing really, a silky, white, short-sleeved sun dress that buttoned straight down the front that she'd bought as a cut-out for five dollars. But that was the joy of cyber—she got to shop for things she'd never normally buy. 

She looked at herself and felt her pulse increase. The weight of the dress against her naked skin was strange and arousing, and the sensation of wearing stockings with no panties made her feel salacious and lewd. Already her nipples were semi-erect and pressing against the dress. She could see them through the thin, clingy fabric. She was almost done wrapping his gift now, she thought. There were just the bracelets—two heavy silver chain costume jewelry bracelets he'd had her purchase—and finally, the collar.

Not really a collar but a necklace, a choker, a black satin ribbon that held a large, rough-cut slab of green jade to match her eyes. The collar meant something. When she put it on, she was his. She belonged to Alex.

She looked in the mirror now—the black curls from which the velvet ribbon emerged, the cheeks touched with color, the blush-red lips, the green eyes that echoed the color of the stone around her neck. Her skin was coffee-and-cream, contrasting with the pure white of the dress that clung in such a dramatic fall from the gentle spheres of her breasts. She was ready.

She slipped into a pair of heels from the very back of her closet, then gathered up her supplies, the things he'd want her to have—the two belts and a leather strap from a purse, the hair clips, the wooden ruler, the vibrator and the lube—and walked into the dim white glow of the living room. She placed these objects on the towel and looked at the clock: eight-fifty-five. 

Perhaps some solitaire on the computer, or a look at her e-mail. 

She sat down on the chair and rolled it in to the desk, called up her e-mail and his name jumped out at her: SmokingMirror111. She felt an immediate thrill in her stomach.

Why would he be sending her an e-mail now when he was going to see her in five minutes? Did he have to cancel? He would have sent an IM. She moved the mouse and clicked on his message.

Slave—

I've been thinking of you all day. Your body in my hands, your mouth on my cock, your ass beneath my whip. This is what I want from you tonight—your body and your pleasure. Tonight will be special. I'll make a special demand on you. Don't fail me.

"Slave." He knew how she felt about being called that. And why would he send her a message like this? He always said every night was going to be special and she never failed him. It didn't mean anything...

She turned her web cam on and positioned it to check herself. She looked good. She looked more than good. She looked like an offering, ripe and enticing, something virginal and yet sexual and knowing as well. Her nipples were hard now, her lips slightly swollen with arousal, her heart beating quickly. She didn't usually dress like this for him and she was excited, anticipating his reaction.

She was tempted to touch herself, just to see how sensitive she was, when she heard the signal for a message and there he was, early, his simple, innocent, "Hello?" sitting on the screen.

"Hello," she typed back.

"Good to see you," he responded. "Alone?"

"Yes. You?"

He gave her a smiley face. 

It was impossible to know his moods when he first signed on. He might be gentle and want to chat and perhaps discuss his day or hers, or he might want her right away and take her without a word, like a dog takes his bitch in an alley, having her get down on all fours, grabbing her hair and humping away. Not knowing—that was part of the excitement. 

Helen wasn't a perfect slave either, which was why she resented the word. She wasn't a doormat. She resisted. She didn't mean to, or at least she didn't think she meant to, at least, not as much as she did, but she did nonetheless. It was complicated; she didn't understand it herself.

He was usually stingy in his use of her web cam, finding it too distracting to leave on all the time and saving it for the climax of their play, but now he told her to turn it on immediately.

As it made connection he said, "I missed you." 

She was surprised. "I missed you too, Master."

"Ah, there you are." He took a moment to look at her image. "Nice dress, bitch. Are those buttons all down the front?"

"Yes, Master."

"Very good. I didn't tell you what to wear tonight, did I?"

"No, sir."

"Then why'd you wear that?"

"I thought you'd like it."

He paused and Helen sat nervously at her keyboard, aware that she was being inspected. The LED on the camera glowed red.

"You thought I'd like it," he wrote. "Did it ever occur to you why I didn't tell you what to wear tonight?"

She felt a spot of fear grow in her stomach.

"Because you forgot?"

"Because I forgot?" he echoed.

Silence. Was he waiting for a response?

"I don't know, sir." Helen lowered her eyes away from the web cam.

"It never occurred to you that maybe I wanted you naked? A blank canvas? With no clothes at all?"

"No, sir."

Silence while she sat there with her eyes down. 

"So you just presume to put on some rag and show up here like a fucking streetwalker? Some tawdry piece of street trash? Is that the idea, bitch?"

"No, Master. Master, please don't."

"Who else have you worn that for? Who else has had their hands on you in that dress? I can just about see your nipples through that fabric even from here, you cunt!"

"No one! This is the first time I've ever worn it! I bought it just for you! Please! I'm sorry!"

She dreaded his anger even as it thrilled her. The violence in it excited her. His displeasure and the threat of abandonment made her want to weep.

There was a silence while he made her wait. The silence was good, she knew. It meant he'd been playing with her, teasing her. She put her shoulders back slightly, making her tits stand out, offering them.

"It's nice," he typed. "I like it. Open it up and let me see your tits."

Helen looked at the camera with relief. Her fingers went to the buttons on her dress and she started to undo them, and right away she felt that thrill, that quivering thrill of submission, of being controlled by the man who sat on the other end of that camera. She had his picture right next to her monitor, but it wasn't even his face she thought of but his presence, a commanding, enveloping presence that took over for her and stood between her and the world. He was like a tent, a shield. She dissolved in him, let go, gave in.

She unbuttoned the dress down to her navel and then opened it, shame and pride making her blush. Where her skin was bare she could feel his eyes on her like a searchlight, warming her skin and she gave her nakedness to him. There was no reaction, which she took as a good sign, a sign that he was admiring her, maybe even touching himself.

After some seconds, he typed, "Take them out. Play with them."

Helen closed her eyes. When she'd started this with him, she couldn't bare to touch herself. It was beyond humiliating, degrading beyond belief. But now she knew how it excited him and she wasn't above taking pleasure from her own touch either. She'd become a whore for sensation, and her own gluttony thrilled her, confirmed the idea of her own perversity. She parted the dress and took her breasts out, squeezed them together for him, then rolled her nipples between thumb and forefinger, her eyes closed in bliss.

"You're such a bitch," he typed. "I really don't know what to do with you, Helen."

"I'm sorry," she typed back.

"You like that, don't you? Having your tits played with."

"Yes Master. I do."

"Mmmm. What sorry excuses for tits too. Like mosquito bites."

"Yes Master."

She knew it wasn't true. It was part of his game to insult her like this, part of what he did.

"Harder, slut. Squeeze them harder. Sink your nails into them."

"Yes, sir."

She made claws of her hands and dug her nails into the sensitive flesh, groaning as she did so. She was hurting herself and somehow she didn't mind. Or rather, she did but she couldn't help it. It was impossible to explain. It was like he controlled her, like he actually controlled her hands and body and she was unable to do anything but feel. The pain was horrible and delicious.

"Your nipples," he wrote. "Pinch them. Twist them!"

Helen took her nipples between her thumbs and the sides of her forefingers and squeezed. She knew he could see her face. He could see her pain and she wanted to give it to him, as much as possible. Slowly she increased the pressure as the ache began a sharp, shooting pain...

"Wait," he typed. She saw her image on the web cam freeze. "You're breaking up."

"Master?" Her nipples throbbed painfully when she let them go. She looked again at her image on the screen. It looked fine to her now. But suddenly his IM window blinked and went on again.

"Master, are you there?"

"Yes. Don't worry about it. I see you fine now. Get the ruler."

"Oh, Master! No!"

"Get it!"

It was a common grade-school ruler, wood, a foot long. English on one side, metric on the other. He'd made her buy it at the beginning of their relationship, and it had come to symbolize everything about it—the straight, unyielding edge; the duplicitous nature of this simple school aid and the secret, salacious use they put it to; the idea of discipline itself. She'd told Roy it came in handy for ripping coupons out of the newspaper, and of course, he hadn't been the least bit curious as to why she couldn't have bought a scissors. 

"Lower the camera a bit and move back," he typed. "I want to see your tits and your face."

Helen did as he said. "Here?"

"Yes. Good. Five each. Two of the five on the nipples. Snaps."

"No. Please!"

"Do it! And look me in the eye for the snaps."

There was no sense arguing but she had to protest. Otherwise he'd know how much she wanted it, or he'd know even more. It wasn't him, it wasn't his touch, his insistent cruelty, but it was as close as she could get right now, and it would have to do.

Five each, two on the nipples: snaps.

Helen held her left breast in her left hand and held the end of the ruler in her right, and looking down at her tit as though it were a beloved pet she had to punish, she gave herself a smart spank on the top, wincing at the pain. She moved the ruler and gave herself another, then lifted her breast and spanked the underside which caused her to writhe in the chair, pressing her legs together. The pain was sharp and immediate, and before it could sink into her too deeply she switched hands with the ruler and did the same to her right breast, the strokes not as precise with her left hand but just as sharp and shocking. These were her breasts, her femininity. to be whipped here was to punish everything that was gentle and giving about her, but he didn't care, and she found the pain deeply satisfying.

The red LED glowed mutely, dumbly. It had counted three strokes for each breast and she still owed it two more on her nipples. These had to be snaps—the ruler held flexed over the nipple while the tip was pulled back by the other hand, then released to let the tip snap against her with a sudden burst of energy, thus assuring a full measure of force to her sensitive nipples: pain, sharp and mechanical.

She was in agony for this—in agony as she flexed the ruler before releasing it, positioning it just so, four inches in front of her defenseless areolas—and in agony as she let it go and it thwacked down against her sensitive flesh, pain surging through her breasts as her nipples peaked with turgid, masochistic excitement. They didn't know any better. They'd expected some gentler stimulation and yet they rose to this cruelty as if they'd been trained to obey.

And during the snaps she raised her eyes to the camera and imagined Alex doing this to her himself, his eyes boring into her merciless and hot, taking her pain as his due, her price for loving him. 

The whipping left her lying limp in the chair, her breasts naked and lewdly exposed, marked with lines and welts, nipples puffy and already bruised. Her dress was open and she was pressing her thighs together to stem the growing wetness that was gathering there. And yet she longed for some further depredation, some additional outrage.

"Very nice," he typed. "Very nice. Are you ready to get fucked now?"

"Master, wait, please."

"Wait???"

She shouldn't have questioned him but his impatience surprised her. He never went this fast with her. Usually he savored her, played a game with her, called her over to the camera to inspect the damage, teased her and enjoyed his work, but tonight he seemed in a hurry.

"Open your dress. Put on the belts," he typed. His impatience was palpable. 

Helen began to unbutton the dress when he went silent in a new way, cut off.

"Master?" she typed. 

No answer.

"Hello?" she typed again.

Again, no response.

This sometimes happened. Sometimes Instant Messenger failed and they lost contact for a minute or two, and she didn't panic. She went ahead carrying out his orders, knowing he'd be back as soon as he could.

She finished unbuttoning her dress, then adjusted her camera so that it showed her entire body as she leaned back in the chair. She took the two broadest belts and waited. She didn't know how he wanted her to put them on yet, so she idly traced the end of one over her breasts, waiting for him to come back online.

"Fucking hell!" he typed suddenly. "Kicked me out!"

"I'm here, Master."

"I see you. Good. Put the belts around your thighs. You know how. Strange reception tonight."

Helen quickly put the ends of the belts through the buckles to make sliding loops of them, then slipped one over each foot and drew them up her legs until they were cinched high on her thighs, over the tops of her stockings. She drew them tight till she felt the belts compressing her flesh, then slid her ass lower in the chair so that she was half-reclining, her bottom hanging over the edge.

"Yes," he wrote. "Like that. Now spread yourself. Tie them off to the arms of the chair."

She spread her legs and wrapped the ends of the belts around the arm rests so that they kept her thighs spread lewdly, her pussy nakedly displayed and aimed at the camera.

"Let me see you, you slut!" 

Helen leaned back, her white dress making a natural backdrop for her body and this salacious display. The belts held her thighs apart so that her feet dangled off the floor and the chair was big enough that only her shoulder blades touched the back . She couldn't bring herself to look at the camera. She looked down at herself instead, at her shaved mound, how innocent it looked, how girlish. Her splayed legs framed the monitor.




Master-Slave Connection



God, she didn't know why she did these things for him. She didn't know why it got her off so much following his orders and doing things she'd never do by herself, never in a million years. Was it the thrill of making him excited? Of mistreating herself? 

No, it was something else. It was letting him control her, of abandoning herself and letting him turn her into a whore. She wished he were here in person to do these things to her himself, of course, but his witnessing her doing them was almost as good. It was almost lewder in some ways, more degrading and degenerate, sicker and more depraved because she was doing it, lying there with her legs parted before the camera, held apart by this crude tourniquet of her fashion belts. Without intending to, she squeezed her buttocks together, flexing her cunt at him, begging him to get started on her, inviting his punishment.

"Rub it, whore!" her screen said, and she did. Reaching down with her left hand and slipping her fingers over the edge of her body to the lips of her sex.

She looked aside, not wanting to face the camera. She was a married woman. What was she doing? She hated touching herself for him. It made her feel cheap and used, and not in a good way. It took the magic out of sex and made it common and vulgar, like blowing her nose, but she knew he loved it. He loved to see her play with herself. He said it meant to him that she was so aroused that she couldn't keep her hands off herself, while to her it meant no such thing. Her body was for him to touch, not her, but she closed her eyes and did it, rocking her fingers in a slow circle, not getting much enjoyment from it though she was already wet and excited.

She knew what would come next so she kept her eyes on the screen.

"Give yourself three with the strap!"

She stopped rubbing, forked her fingers around her pussy to make her labia stand up, and gave herself three lashes with thin, doubled-over purse strap, the leather slapping down over her flesh and her fingers and bringing a sharp and searing pain, shocking and raw. Each blow made her gasp and forced her hips to jerk up toward the pain in a blind thrusting motion as if she sought it out, as if she wanted it. 

"Oh! Fuck! Oh!" she moaned, oblivious to his eyes watching her through the camera. Her legs hung limply in the belts as though in hammocks and she was spread before the monitor as though he might come flying through it and land between her thighs. The slaps with the belt brought her cunt to life, made her tingle and throb for more nasty treatment as her clit raised its head like a flower innocently blooming in a bull ring.

"Five more strokes!" he typed, and Helen grimaced. She picked up the belt and slid her fingers around her pussy protectively, guarding her clit. then swung it down five more times, landing it between her legs and making herself wince. Instinctively she tried to close her legs but the belts held them open.

"Enough!" he typed, but Helen could hardly see it. She was reveling in the masochism of whipping her pussy, her protecting hand gone now, slapping the belt down over her clit and making herself jerk her hips in the chair while electric pleasure-pain shot through her body and left her weak.

"The thong! Make the belts into your thong."

Helen sat up weakly. Again, he was going so fast! Usually he'd have her use the vibrator, alternating whipping with vibrator. Now he wanted her to make the belts into her "thong"?

But it wasn't her place to argue.

Dizzily She untied the belts from the arm rest, stood up and slipped them off her legs. She knew how to make his thong. She'd done it before and she hated it and loved it in equal measure. 

She straightened the belts out, then ran the end of the thinner one through the buckle of the larger till it was halfway down, and buckled the thinner around her naked waist. The larger belt hung from the small of her back like a tail, and she gripped this and pulled it through her legs and tucked it up behind the buckle in front, making a kind of loin cloth of it that pressed against her pussy. By pulling on the end of the thicker one, she could make this crotch strap press harder against her cunt, chafing her.

"The clips!" he typed.

"No," he answered. "Not now. It's too much!"

"Don't give me that, slut! You'll do as I say!"

She could fight him, make her stand here, but this was really a minor point.

Helen combed her hair back from her face. She was starting to sweat. She was still wearing the white dress, although it was open all the way down, exposing her entire body. She took one of the white hair clips and opened it up. Holding her left breast and squeezing it to make the nipple project, she attached the clip to her areola and cautiously released it, grimacing in pain. She felt her pussy tighten in sympathy.

She clenched her fists, enduring it, waiting for the shock to subside and become a dull ache, then she took the other clip and did the same thing with her right breast, ducking her head and bringing her shoulders up defensively.

"Fuck!" she moaned. "Hurts!"

He couldn't hear her.

"Vibrator!" he typed. "Under the belt. Turn it on and hold it."

Helen reached for the vibe and slid it between the belt and her pussy. Pain coursed through her breasts and her arms but it was getting better now, growing less. She turned the vibrator on and touched it to her pussy and the rich, buttery vibrations suddenly caused her to melt with pleasure. What was he doing to her? Why did she let him do this?

Because she wanted this. She was a slut and a whore and she wanted this, wanted to be used and degraded and lit up like a Christmas Tree by these horrible things he did to her. Because the pain and the use felt good and kept her focused and that if she didn't have this pain to focus on she'd just dissolve in her own need and lust. And she knew that while she was feeling these things, he was harder than a rock and going mad with fuck lust himself and he wanted her more than he'd ever wanted any other woman in his life. That's why she was doing this.

"Ohhh..." Helen lay back in the chair, the clips on her nipples jiggling. She pulled one knee up and ran the vibrator up her slit, her eyes dimly focused on the red light of the camera.

"Helen? Helen? Are you there?"

She tore herself away from her self-stimulation to type: "Yes"

"Listen to me. I want you to go to the turret window. Just as you are. You're to stand there and look out, and you'll see me. Understand? You'll see me!"

Helen jerked upright.

"What???"

A smiley face; a wide grin on the screen.

"I'm outside."

Helen felt suddenly dizzy. A rush of adrenaline. The vibrator fell from her fingers and lay there buzzing on the floor. She picked it up and turned it off.

"Go look," he typed.

She stood up, still holding on to the belt and the vibrator, and, as if in a dream, she walked to the turret window, the clips on her nipples swaying, tugging at her, and she ascended the three steps. There was a mist outside and everything was foggy, but down at the end of the garden she could see a shape—a man—standing in the alley by a lilac bush, a dark man in a raincoat. He raised a hand at her. He smiled. He raised an iPhone at her.

She was stunned, hollow. The world of anonymity collapsed around her and her body suddenly became solid and fleshy and far too present. Goose bumps covered her chest, despite the clips pulling at her nipples. Her heart hammered in her chest at the same time her pussy seemed to dissolve in its own excited moisture, yearning for him and shrinking back in fear. 

On the desk, her cell phone rang. He had her number.

"Hello?" 

"It's me," he said. "Master. I was down in the café. They have Wi Fi now, you know. I guess their reception wasn't too good though. Kept on breaking up. Anyhow, I thought maybe it was time we met, Helen."

"Oh my God! I don't believe this!"

"Come to the window."

"I can't!"

"Come to the window, Helen."

His voice sounded just as she knew it would. It was the voice she heard when he typed his messages, and she could no more disobey his voice than she could his written commands. She went to the window.

Standing in the turret, higher than the floor and surrounded by glass on three sides, it was like she was in a display case. There was no one around and her dress shielded her nakedness, but still, the way the turret held her and thrust her backlit out into the misty night could hardly have been more dramatic. She looked down at the shadowy figure by the lilac bush and saw him raise his phone to his lips.

"Turn the vibrator on, Helen."

She could feel his presence, feel him through the glass and the air that separated them, and while she could refuse him at the computer, she knew it was futile here, with the force of his will on her. 

She flicked the handle and the vibrator jumped to life in her hand. The clips dug into her breasts as if he were clawing her. 

"Put it beneath the belt," he said. "You know where."

She couldn't tear her eyes away from him. It wasn't possible, wasn't believable. He lived sixty miles away. 

It was possible. It was him. She held the phone to her mouth but couldn't speak.

"Put the phone on speaker and put it down, Helen. Put the vibrator under the belt. Do it!"

She switched her cell to speaker and put it down on the cushion on the window seat. She stood up, holding the buzzing vibrator in her hand, aware of her visibility in the turret window.

"I want you to do this, Helen," his voice said from the phone. "I want you to do this for me. No one else will know what you're doing even if they see you, and believe me, there's no one around in this miserable weather, so do it!"

The fog was thick and getting thicker, and she knew she was visible in the window like a diamond against the black velvet of the night, but she didn't hesitate. Something perverse took control of her and she parted the dress and slipped the humming vibrator between the belt and her pussy, slipped it in so it jammed against her. She instinctively pulled down on the end of the belt, drawing the middle up snug between her legs to press the vibe against her so tight it took her breath away and staggered her. She reached out with her free hand and braced it against the window casement, her legs weak.

"That's it!" his voice said from the phone. "Just like that! Now stay there! Stay there so I can see you!."

Helen groaned. She could hardly stand. The vibrations hummed against her pussy and into her belly and up to her scalp; ran down her legs and into her feet, turning her insides into melted butter. Instinctively she pulled harder against the belt in an attempt to quell the vibrations but that just focused and localized them and sent a burning spear of pleasure deep into her womb and she felt the vibrator work its way between her labia to the live flesh of her famished pussy. 

Desperately, she looked down into the alley but he was gone, and now her phone barked again with his voice.

"Stop it now, Helen. Go to your front door and open it. I'm coming up. I'm coming in. Stop it long enough to unlock the door and then start it again. I want that thing going on you when I walk in, do you understand?"

"Do you understand?"

She released the tension on the belt and the vibrator fell away from her and clattered to the floor, leaving her limbs tingling as if she'd just had a huge electric shock. She picked up her phone. "Yes. Yes, I understand."

This was insane. This was her apartment, her home, where she lived with her husband—the chairs they sat in, the table they ate at, and now she was walking to the door and unlocking it and then turning on the vibrator and slipping it back under the belt because Alex had told her to, leaning against the wall as the vibrations immediately took her over and made rational thought impossible, turned her into a sensual zombie aware of nothing but the magical fact that her master had somehow managed to jump from the screen of her computer to the hallway of her building and was even now climbing the stairs to her apartment.

She was his, she was his, whatever he wanted, as the door opened and Alex walked into the room and his eyes found hers, which were drowning in her own shameful pleasure, offered to him. She knew what he looked like, had studied his pictures so many nights as she followed his orders and debased herself for him and made a whore of himself for him, but now, to see him and the way he moved, the way the picture came alive— 

"Helen," he said. He was just as she'd thought, his movements, his presence, but she hadn't counted on this predatory hunger she felt from him. She had always pictured him as aloof and dispassionate; cold and superior and even contemptuous, but in the flesh she felt this heat from him, an intensity she hadn't expected and she felt suddenly foolish, as if maybe she should have met him more formally and not like a slut naked in an open dress with a vibrator pressed up against her pussy by a crudely-rigged belt.

But he didn't give her any time. He grabbed her arms and propelled her back into the room, kicking the door shut as they passed it. He pushed her down on the sofa and stood there, stripping off his coat as the vibrator hummed away between her legs, making her too delirious to think.

She stared at him in horror. In the flesh, he was just a stranger. He might be the man she called Master online, but there was nothing to connect him to that now. He leaned forward and pulled the vibrator from beneath the belt and turned it off, leaving her body ringing like a struck gong, the blood pulsing in her veins. He went to the door and locked it, then took some rope from the pocket of his coat.

"My God!" she said, now that she could speak. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you. I took a chance. He's not around, right?"

"No," she said nervously. "But—"

"But?" he challenged. "Am I your master? Are you my slave? Didn't I tell you it would come to this?"

"Yes. Yes. But I never thought—"

"You're not supposed to think," he said. "That's not your job. Your job is to get fucked."

He grabbed the belt that went around her waist and unbuckled it and pulled it off, taking with it the belt that passed over her crotch, leaving her totally exposed. Helen winced, but he lost no time. He pulled the clips off her breasts and Helen moaned as the blood rushed back into her nipples. Then he got two pieces of rope and proceeded to tie her legs against themselves, her ankles against her ass.

Helen was nervous and afraid. She knew Roy was with his friends, but still— This was her home, her living room, her sofa, and who knew who might come in? Who knew what he might do in the flesh?

Alex sat her against the back of the couch and tied her wrists together, then pulled a chair over opposite the sofa and sat down and looked at her.

She was sitting with her legs apart and her ankles tied against her ass, her bound hands in her lap hiding her sex from him, but still, she felt entirely exposed and vulnerable. She still wore the white dress but it covered nothing but her shoulders.

Alex smiled at her. "So this is my slut."

She said nothing.

"You look better in person than you do on camera. Much better."

Still, she was silent.

Alex leaned forward and picked up the vibrator. He turned it on and used it to knock her hands away from her pussy, then ran it lightly up and down her crease. Helen tried to maintain her composure, but her clit was erect and her pussy throbbing, and the mere touch made her close her eyes and push her hips forward.

"Take it," he said. "Go on, Helen, take it. Use it on yourself."

"No. No, I won't."

He stopped. "Did I just hear someone say 'no'? I thought I heard someone say 'no'. That can't be, can it, Helen?"

She didn't say anything.

"Because only a stupid bitch would say something like that, and I know my slave isn't a stupid bitch, is she?"

He pressed the vibrator against her again and she groaned.

"Now take it, baby. Take it!"

Helen opened her bound hands and took the vibrator from him and pressed it against her pussy in a place different from where he'd been plying it. The very pleasure of it made her grimace and made her sore nipples stiffen, and the knowledge that his eyes were on her made her flush with embarrassment, because now she was doing it for her own selfish pleasure, being a slut for him, and she didn't care. She was close—on fire. This threat of him being with her in her own home had set something off in her and she felt dirty and demented and out of control, and she began to insert the tip of the vibrator into her pussy while she rubbed her clit with her other hand, her eyes closed, a hum of rapture on her lips.

"Yes." Alex sat back in his chair. "Yes, that's my baby. That's my little whore."

She heard him unbuckling his pants and heard his zipper going down, and she cracked her eyes to see him pulling his cock out, tall and hard and lovely—just what she needed. It literally made her mouth water and she dipped the vibrator deeper into her cunt in anticipation of what it might soon do to her.

Alex wrapped his hand around it and began to slowly beat off, his hand moving the loose skin up and down on his steely-hard cock.

"You want it?" he asked. "You want some of this, bitch?"

"Mmmmm..." Helen was breathing deeply, watching him through slitted eyes.

Alex let his head fall back. "Ahhh. Feels good! Maybe I'll just keep it for myself. Why waste it on you?"

"Oh fuck!" she moaned. "Please, Master! Please!"

"Please what?"

"Please give me your cock! Please! I'm begging you!"

Her fears were gone. Her nervousness was gone. She didn't know who he was but she didn't even care anymore. He was Alex, her Master, and she knew him well enough from online. She knew him well enough to want him.

"Please! Please!"

He stood up and dropped his pants and stripped off his shirt. If Roy should come in, they were dead. She knew that, but she was so on fire and she didn't give a fuck. The doors were locked from the inside with safety locks. They'd have time and she'd think of something. All that mattered now was Alex's cock.

He came over to the sofa and grabbed her legs and pulled her toward the edge and Helen dropped the vibrator and raised her bound hands above her head, looking up at him, trying to pull him into her with her eyes. She spread her legs and Alex braced his knees against the edge of the sofa and leaned forward. The head of his cock touched her pussy.

"Oh! Oh fuck!"

He gave her the tip, just the tip. Held her knees in his hands and plowed her furrow with the tip of his cock, dragging a groove against her pussy and then dipping into her opening but not giving her enough. She opened around him like a tight little mouth and then closed as he pulled out, coated with her juice.

"No!" She growled in anger and frustration.

"Greedy?"

"More! All of it!"

He gave her the tip again, leaving it in her this time and making her gasp and wiggle, trying to suck him inside before he pulled it out.

"Oh God!" she moaned. "Please!"

He began to poke her with it, dipping it into her and letting it skate against her clit, but never giving her enough, never filling her, never satisfying.

Helen sobbed. Her hips began to jerk on the sofa. "Fuck me! Please, Master! I need it!"

Alex got the vibrator from where she'd dropped it and put it in her hands.

"Use this too. I want to feel you buzz around me, whore. Then I'll give it to you."

Helen moaned and brought her hands down. She pressed the vibe against her pussy with her bound hands and Alex pushed her knees open to stare at the salacious scene, then took his cock and slid into her, making her grunt like an animal in sudden satisfaction and relief. He got up on his knees and lifted his head and groaned himself as he felt the powerful vibrations shake her sheath around him, and Helen whined with orgasmic anguish at the incredible sensation.




Master-Slave Connection



"Yes! Yes!" he snarled, and he began to fuck her with hard, sure strokes that rocked her on the sofa and made his loins slap against her. 

Helen moaned, her cries louder than the humming of the vibe, so far gone that she almost forgot to announce: "Permission to come, Master? Permission to come?"

"No!" Alex growled, and immediately pulled out of her, leaving her hanging, whining with disappointment, her open pussy gaping like a cave in the earth, dark, open, and inviting.

He quickly untied her legs and sat down on the sofa with his cock standing straight up. "Ride me," he said. "Facing outwards. Back to me."

Helen lost no time in getting up, confused and dazed as she was. She waited while Alex gathered her dress up in back and swept it to the side so he could see her naked ass, then guided her back over his lap and positioned her above his rampant cock, her legs spread awkwardly.

"Get the vibe too," he warned her, so she reached over and picked it up.

As she settled down over him with a grateful sigh, he slipped his fists between her ass and his thighs, making spacers that limited how far down she could sink, and Helen again found herself frustrated in her attempt to take him deep. She could only get the tip in, just the head of his cock, and she began to twist and writhe on top of him in desperate frustration.

"Oh fuck! Damn it! Master! Please! Give it to me! I'm so close! Oh God! Please, I need it!"

But Alex wouldn't be moved, and he held his hands there between her ass and his thighs, a hard look on his face as she tried to work herself off on this meager portion of cock he allowed her, pressing the vibrator against her clit and twisting her hips, grinding her pussy against the stub of his dick that was inside her.

Helen lost all sense of composure, all sense of self-respect. Her hips moved like a belly-dancer's, a whore's, a sex-maniac's, the muscles of her cunt squeezing him, desperate to milk the cum from him, desperate to get herself off as well. She swiveled and revolved, humped and bounced, but his fists were there acting as spacers, denying her, keeping her from sinking down and getting what she wanted.

"God, that's good!" he groaned. "That's so good when you work against my head like that, bitch! I think you're going to make me come. You know that? I really think you're going to make me come."

His word thrilled her, and she was about to redouble her efforts when he suddenly lifted her ass off him and pushed her away, laying her down on her back on the sofa and crawling between her legs.

"Okay," he said. "All right, you slut. Let's finish this. Let's finish this right now."

"Oh! Oh yes! Yes!"

He bored into her and Helen wrapped her arms and legs around him and moaned in satisfaction as he took her all the way, balls-deep, totally fucked. Immediately he started fucking her and fucking her hard and deep, chasing the orgasm he'd almost reached before, and Helen just let go and let him take her there, her body open to him, limp and relaxed, a body to be used. 

He fucked her so hard he moved her on the sofa till her head was hanging off the edge, her hair swinging with every thrust, her breasts sloshing on her chest, her bound hands braced against the coffee table. He fucked her as they climbed that mountain again together and her limp body came alive with tension, her back arched, her legs spurring him on, her mouth seeking him out, sucking his salt-slick sweat..

"Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh God! Permission to come, Master! Permission to come!"

"Yes! Do it! Do it, bitch! Come on me! Come all over my dirty cock, you hot slut! I'm coming too! I'm coming too!"

Alex smashed into her, his hands gripping her buttocks, pulling her against him as he shoved his cock deep, deep and held it. Deep as he felt her body seem to uncoil for him and blossom, her legs fall apart, all of her open for him. He thrust deep and felt his own rivers open up and he began to jet into her, great hot streams of ejaculate shoot into the depths of her, blinding, coruscating whips of pleasure: release, conquest, power, freedom. Here it was, the thing they'd never been able to achieve together before in all their time online, in all their role-play and lonely masturbation and exchanged messages no matter how intimate and revealing, so simple and so fulfilling, so essential and so human: flesh in flesh, full contact, absolute fusion, total connection.

Slowly they came down. Slowly the waters of passion receded. Panting, numb, too stunned to speak, Helen and her master lie fused together, their hearts racing, bodies oozing sweat. Her legs fell weakly open and from her pussy dribbled a lewd stream of his ejaculate, as if he'd filled her to overflowing. 

He slowly pulled out of her and lay down beside her. He put his arm around her and held her till their heartbeats slowed. He said nothing and she didn't feel like talking either. Finally he got up and asked, "Where's the bathroom?"

She pointed and watched him as he left, not disappointed, but curious as to what he'd do now. She heard water running and the toilet flush, and in a minute he was back, his face shining. He'd washed. He began dressing.

"So now you know who I am," he said. "Does it ruin it for you?"

She watched him from the sofa. She hadn't moved since he'd gotten up, but surreptitiously, she closed her legs, which had still been open. He was still dripping out of her.

"I don't know," she said. "I don't think so. I think it makes it better. And worse too, I suppose."

"Yes," he said. "It makes it different."

She watched him dress. She said: "You can't stay?"

He sat down and started putting on his shoes. "I don't dare. Think about it. Really. Think about it."

She didn't have to think long. The longer he stayed, the more he exposed himself and the more he put their online relationship in jeopardy.

"If I stayed, I wouldn't be the same Master when I left, would I?"

"No. I suppose not."

"We live on ambiguity and shadows. Let's keep it that way."

She wondered whether he was just evading responsibility for the relationship. That would be typical.

He finished with his shoes and got his coat.

"So what happens now?" she asked.

"We go back to what we had before, if you think we can—just the computer. But this time you'll never know. You'll never know when I might come in. You think you can do that?"

She looked at him, trying to imagine going back to not knowing what he looked like, or, conversely, giving herself to this real man now, doing things for him; his eyes as he watched her...

He came over and kissed her, his hand going to her breast. 

It was that kiss she thought she'd never feel, the kiss of her phantom online lover, and once again her mind rebelled. She wasn't expecting a kiss like this, so greedy and passionate, and she was stiff at first, even angry, but again he seemed to take possession of her, seemed to own her once more with his will. She felt it gathering around her. His hand tightened on her breast and his other hand took hold of her hair and bent her head back and he knelt between her legs so his knee pressed against her cum-filled pussy and he just took control of her mouth and her body as he did when they talked on the computer. It was as if he were going to devour her, but his hunger was for her, not just her flesh, and his kiss literally took her breath away so that when he released her it took her a moment to catch her breath.

Then she said: "Yes. I think I can do that."



Master, slave, playtime



He walks into the bedroom, I am on the floor, on my knees, legs spread apart, head bowed down with respect for my Master. I am naked. He walks up to me and pats my head to show his affection for me. I do not look up at him, but I sense he has something new planned for me tonight. I wait with anticipation for him to touch me. Just when i think he is going to skip the nightly fun he likes so much, he slaps my ass hard three times, I feel my ass burning, my clean shaven pussy becomes instantly wet. He then shoves a butt plug in my tight ass without any lubrication. I want to cry out in pain, but I know that it is forbidden for me to speak or make any noise until I'm told that I can. Once the plug is in place he smacks it hard three times, as tears fall down my cheeks, I try not to scream, but a small sound escapes my lips. 

That makes him angry so he smacks the plug three more times as hard as he can, and yells at me to be quiet. More tears run down my cheeks as my pussy juices run down my thighs. My Master is very turned on by my tears and pain, just as much as I am. He then chains my wrists to the bars he had installed on the floor last year. I cannot move them, I am at his mercy, just the way he likes me, I hear a bag rattling as my Master gets out his new toy he bought just for me. First he places the nipple clamps on each nipple, I do not cry out but wish i could. He gives them a tug to make sure they will not come off. My nipples burning, and my ass plugged, my Master prepares to shove in the new toy, it is bigger than any toy he has ever used on me. 

It feels like it might rip me apart as he shoves it in as hard and as fast as he can. I almost scream out in pain, but I catch myself and bite on my bottom lip until it bleeds. Both of my holes filled with a toy my Master stands back and slaps my ass and pussy hard, causing pain and pleasure. He then turns on the vibe in my pussy and leaves the room. I am still chained to the floor so I can't move to much I know my Master intends to tease and torture me for a while, the vibe is on low so it will take a while for me to reach orgasm, just like he intended. He leaves me like this for a few hours. My knees start to ache, I can no longer feel my nipples from the clamps. My juices are running down my thighs and dripping on the floor. He will make me lick it up later, after he finishes with me. He likes to watch me lick up my mess. 

After about two and a half hours, my Master returns, he slips a blindfold over my eyes, and puts a ball gag in my mouth. I cannot see what he is about to do next. I hear my Master moving things around in the closet, he finds what he was looking for, walks up behind me, caresses my ass once, the next thing I feel is a sharp intense pain in the same spot he just touched so very gently, I hear the crack of a whip, I try to scream out in pain but the gag muffles most of the sound, as my Master continues to whip me like an animal, tears are flowing freely down my cheeks. Finally after what seems like hours but is really only twenty minutes, he stops whipping me, and caresses his hands over every welt on my bright red ass. It burns as he touches them, he then gets some ice out of his drink and rubs it all over my ass to cool down the burning. There is an even bigger puddle of juices on the floor. He knows that even though he hurt me, he has also turned me on. He takes off the gag, stands in front of me and shoves his big hard cock all the way down my throat, he loves to hear me gag on it. My Master is rewarded with the sound of my gagging. He pulls out just a bit then shoves it back in deeper, I cannot breathe as he holds my head still. I gag hard, almost vomit, then he pulls out again, I gasp for breath, then he shoves it back in again. He continues to fuck my mouth for quite some time, my mouth gets very sore. Finally he stops, sticks a dildo in my mouth, takes out the butt plug, and with only my spit on his cock he rams it in my ass as fast and hard as he can. 

It feels as if he has ripped my ass apart as he starts to pound my ass hard and fast. He likes to try and make me scream with the dildo shoved in my mouth. He slams in and out of my ass, as he slides the vibrator in and out of my soaking wet cunt, he slaps my ass making the welts burn again, the tears are streaming down my face, I am humiliated, all of my holes are filled. My Master loves to humiliate me this way, it makes him stay hard for many hours. He continues to pound my ass for a few hours, he has allowed me to have several orgasms, while he hasn't had one yet. I feel that he is almost ready to cum, because he starts fucking my ass as hard and fast as he can in and out, my ass taking all of his cock, the pain is gone now and only pleasure remains as he pounds in and out deeper. Finally, one last thrust and my Master starts to cum in my ass, then pulls out and cums some more on my ass and on the floor, he has added his cum to my puddle of juices. 

My Master takes off my blindfold uncuffs me and orders me to clean off his cock as he takes out the dildo, and puts the butt plug back in my freshly fucked ass. I obey my Master and take his cock in my mouth and suck it clean. He then orders me to lick up the mess we have made on the floor, I obey him and clean it all up with my tongue. After I am finished, he smiles at me and says, "Good girl, that's my good little cum slut." I smile to myself because I have pleased my Master. He then tells me I can sleep on the bed with him, but I must keep the plug and vibrator in place and sleep with them in me all night. I say, "Yes Master," and climb in bed next to him and fall asleep instantly.



MASTER/slave Vignette



The all caps is more to indicate an intensity of speech rather than yelling.

* * * * *

YOU ARE MINE... AREN'T YOU???

yes, master ...

THEN CRAWL TO ME... HOW BADLY DO YOU WANT TO BE MINE??? WHAT WILL YOU DO TO SHOW ME YOU ARE MINE?

you are looking only at MY FEET, on your hands and knees in front of ME... anything, master ...

I RUN MY FINGERS THRU YOUR HAIR... you feel only my fingers running from the front of your scalp to the back... I REST MY FINGERS AT THE NAPE OF YOUR NECK... MASSAGING YOUR SKIN... HMMMM... VERY WELL THEN...

your cock is in it's leather cock ring... slowly filling with blood... hardening between you legs... you feel me over you... MY HANDS COMING UP AROUND YOUR NECK FASTENING A COLLAR AROUND IT... A LEASH EXTENDING FROM A RING IN THE FRONT... you feel the leash dragging across your back and then sagging in front of you... you feel a tug as the slack is pulled in... 

COME CLOSER... MY HANDS REELING IN THE SLACK OF THE LEASH... PULLING IT TAUT... PULLING YOU BY IT CLOSER TO MY SITTING FORM... your head is very close to my calf... you're so close you can smell the sweat from my workout... you can see the sheen of it on my bare calves... you want to look up and see my naked body coated in sweat... but you know I would be displeased... and you don't want that... I might not let you be MINE...

I PULL YOUR FACE UP AGAINST MY LEG... MY SWEAT SLICKENED CALF AGAINST YOUR CHEEK... you can feel the sweat as your face slides against my skin... my sparse leg hairs tickling your cheek... I PULL YOU UP BY YOUR LEASH... your body extending... sliding up my sweaty skin to my knees... you don't dare look... but you want to see my hard cock....

CLEAN MY THIGHS... CLEAN THEM WITH YOUR TONGUE... you shudder and your cock fills completely with blood... your dick starting to throb slightly as it fills the cock ring... your mouth opens and a little drool oozes onto my skin just before your tongue comes out and takes a long lick up the inside of my thigh... MMMMMMMM VERY GOOD SLAVE ... SUCH A HOT BOY AREN'T YOU???? you nod as your lips open wide and you kiss my hot, wet skin... sliding your open lips along the inside of my thigh... MY MUSCLES TENSING AND RELAXING AS I FEEL YOUR TONGUE SLIP OVER MY BODY... you can feel the heat emanating from my crotch and want so badly to look at what you know is a hard, throbbing cock... TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT SLAVE... BEG ME FOR IT...

please let me suck your cock master... please i need it so badly... i want to feel your cock slide into my mouth... i want to taste your cum on my tongue... please master ... please let me taste your seed...

PERHAPS I WILL SLAVE... BUT YOU WILL HAVE TO PLEASE ME FURTHER FIRST...

I SLIDE FURTHER DOWN THE SEAT... you feel the heat of my crotch approaching you... you can smell a faint funk from somewhere above your head... your face has slid along my thigh to my upper thigh... you feel something hot and hard along the top of your forehead... my trimmed pubes pressing against the bridge of your nose...

I PASS YOUR LEASH UNDER MY THIGH... STILL KEEPING IT TIGHT... I DRAG THE LENGTH UP AND OVER MY SHOULDER... I SLIDE FURTHER DOWN THE CHAIR... MY ASS HANGING OVER THE EDGE...

you can smell more of my funk... it's become more pronounced... I PULL ON THE LEASH... YOUR FACE SLIDING DOWN BETWEEN MY LEGS AND BETWEEN MY CHEEKS... YOU CAN SMELL MY HOLE... SEMI-CLEAN... STILL A LITTLE DIRTY... FILLING YOUR NOSTRILS... THE AIR AROUND YOUR FACE HOT, HUMID AND FILLED WITH MY STINK...

you start to moan... you want to taste it so bad... you can see it now... my hole... shaven and tight... my pucker right in front of your face... I DRAPE MY LEG OVER YOUR SHOULDER... MY ANKLE AND THE LEASH PULLING YOU IN CLOSER... LICK MY ASSHOLE SLAVE ... IF YOU DO A GOOD JOB... PERHAPS I WILL LET YOU TASTE MY CUM YET...

ohhh gawd... thank you master ... your mouth opens and you inhale slightly... tasting the air next to my pucker... your tongue sliding out and flattening over my asshole... you tremble as you slide it all the way over my hole... slowly starting to lap at it... MMMMM VERY GOOD SLAVE... you feel my balls resting on the bridge of your nose... a drop of moisture falls on your eyebrow... your cock throbs hard as you realize it is my precum...

your lapping pics up... VERRRRYYY GOOD SLAVE ... you can hear the intensity in my voice... a very slight trembling with pleasure... NOW SLIDE THAT TONGUE UP MY ASS AND OPEN IT UP... you lap at the edges... my hole slowly loosening under your continuing licks... MY LEG CURLING IN BACK OF YOUR HEAD AND PULLING IT IN TIGHTER... you feel the shaft of my cock pressed hot and hard against your forehead...

I BUCK MY ASS AGAINST YOUR HEAD... FUCKING YOUR TONGUE WITH MY ASS... WANTING TO GET IT IN DEEPER... THEN SUDDENLY STOPPING... YELLING AT YOU TO 

STOP

BREATHING DEEPLY AS I LET MYSELF COOL OFF... MMMMM VERRRY GOOD SLAVE ... VERY GOOD INDEED...

thank you master ... I DROP THE LEASH FROM MY SHOULDER... PULLING THE SLACK UP AS I SLIDE MY LEG BACK OFF YOUR SHOULDERS... PUTTING ONE FINGER UNDER YOUR HEAD AND LIFTING YOUR CHIN... you can see my balls now... shaven and swollen... SUCK THEM SLAVE ...

you gasp as you open your mouth and encompass them... filling your mouth as you moan around them with pleasure... you groan in pleasure as you taste a little precum that has dripped down the shaft and nestled in the folds of my sack... your tongue worrying the spot and then sliding all over my sack in search of more...

MMMMMMM... YESSSSS SLAVE ... VERYYY GOOD... MY THIGHS TENSING AND RELAXING AS I GRIND MY COCK AGAINST YOUR FOREHEAD... PULLING MY BALLS OUT OF YOUR MOUTH... TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT SLAVE ... BEG ME FOR IT...

please master... a line of spit from your chin to my balls... glistening... I LIFT YOUR CHIN SO YOU CAN SEE MY COCK... IT'S PURPLE AND THROBBING... THE SIDES AND TIP GLEAMING FROM PRECUM THAT HAS DRIPPED DOWN THE SHAFT WITH YOUR ATTENTION... please let me have your cum... please let me taste it... i want it so bad... your cock is throbbing and grows harder with each word...

TAKE MY COCK IN YOUR HAND SLAVE ... JACK IT SLOWLY.... MMMMMMMM THAT'S RIGHT PET.... SQUEEZE IT TIGHTLY... NOW LET GO... you release it reluctantly... you can feel the slickness of my precum all over your palms... your cock jerks as you think about how slick you hands are...

NOW LEAN FORWARD... I TAKE EITHER SIDE OF YOUR HEAD IN MY HANDS... THE TIP OF MY COCK AIMED AT YOUR FACE... I SLOWLY SLIDE IT BETWEEN YOUR WET OPEN LIPS... DON'T SUCK ON IT YET SLAVE ... SLIDING IT DEEP INSIDE YOUR MOUTH... YOU FEEL IT TWITCH INSIDE YOUR MOUTH... I HISS IN PLEASURE.... MMMMMMMMMMM SOOO FUCKING CLOSE...

I SLIDE MY COCK IN AND OUT BETWEEN YOUR LIP TWO MORE TIMES... NOW SUCK SLAVE... your cheeks hollow out... your tongue goes wild over my cockhead... I BELLOW.... ARRGGGGHHHHHH YESSSSSS.... DON'T YOU FUCKING SWALLOW SLAVE... UHHHHHHHHH.. UHHHHH... MY HIPS PISTONING IN AND OUT OF YOUR LIPS AS I CUM... SPURTING INSIDE YOUR MOUTH... ONCE...TWICE...THREE...FOUR....FIVE TIMES... your mouth overflows with it... MY COCK STOPS AS I TWITCH INSIDE YOUR MOUTH... STILL HARD... AHHH YESSSSS.... THAT'S RIGHT SUCK THAT CREAM OUT OF MY DICK... MY HIPS SNAPPING UP AND DOWN AS I CUM... MY TOES CURLING AS MY ENTIRE BODY CONVULSES... YESSS YOU FUCKING BEAUTIFUL SLAVE... YESSSS.... UNNGHGHH... THE LAST TREMOR LEAVES MY BODY... NOW SLAVE... I WANT YOU TO SPIT THAT CUM OUT IN YOUR HANDS... you look up at me shocked... 

DO IT!!! 

you cup your hands beneath your mouth... slowly spitting out my load... it coats both of your hands... liberally... my slimy load coating them... NOW MASTURBATE FOR ME... your body turns red with desire... your cock throbs and drips a long line of precum all the way to the floor... you drizzle a little over your cock and then take your slime filled hands and start stroking... you start slow... but can't keep from picking up the pace immediately... I lift you up by your leash... your standing in front of me now... your cock glistening with my cum... dripping with it... your hand a blur along your shaft... your leg muscles tighten... you lean back and suddenly you BLOW... aaahhhhh yessss... yesss masster ...

I KNOW I SHOULDN'T BUT I CAN'T HELP MYSELF... I LEAN FORWARD TAKING SOME OF YOUR LOAD ACROSS MY CHEEK AND LIPS... OPENING WIDE AND TAKING YOUR HOT COCK INSIDE MY WET WARM MOUTH... TASTING MY CUM ON YOUR SHAFT AND YOUR CUM STILL SPURTING IN MY MOUTH... MOANING AROUND YOUR DICK AS I SUCK... MMMMMMMMMMMM YESSSSSS... THE LAST SHUDDER LEAVES YOUR BODY AS I PULL YOU BACK DOWN BY YOUR LEASH... I TILT YOUR HEAD BACK AND LOWER MY HEAD TO YOURS... MY TONGUE PARTING YOUR LIPS AS I LEAN IN AND KISS YOU... YOUR CUM FLOWING INTO YOUR MOUTH AS YOU SWALLOW... you practically melt on the floor... as you twitch again in arousal... I PULL MY MOUTH AWAY AND STROKE YOUR HAIR... SUCH A GOOD FUCKING SLAVE...