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Submitting To Stuart Ch. 01

By: Sweet_P



She'd played the Mistress for over ten years now. She'd trained many a slave, and had met several other Masters through her activities on the BDSM scene. There was one Master in particular that she enjoyed playing with - Stuart, a tall, impossibly handsome man, whom she considered to be as experienced as her, if not more so.

It had been some time since she'd seen Stuart. In fact, he was unaware that she'd chosen to marry her favourite slave. He was very adamant that marriage to a slave could never work - he kept a lady in an apartment totally separate to his home, and for all intents and purposes, she was his primary partner. But he refused to bring her to the house where he'd purpose-built a dungeon in the basement and outfitted it with all the accoutrements required to train and restrain slaves and submissives. And this was where she decided she would take her husband-slave; take him down to the next level of abject submission.

She had arranged the night with Stuart completely unbeknownst to her husband. She'd asked Stuart to have his current most favourite slave there - male or female, she didn't care which.

"He needs to understand that serving me requires complete obedience," she told Stuart over the phone. "I want you to help me train him. Help him learn, help him submit."

Stuart, of course, agreed to anything she wanted - he always enjoyed whatever game she presented. But this time, he asked for a boon. In having trained her slave, he wanted the privilege of fucking her for his own pleasure when it was over. She agreed without hesitation.

They arrived at Stuart's shortly after the sun had set. While there was never any question that she was ready to fuck at any time of the day, she preferred to undertake her D&S activities under the cloak of night. Somehow, it made her feel that much more wicked. Stuart had the table elegantly set for two, silver plates at eat place with delicate pairs of savoury morsels placed on each, a crystal glass of wine positioned next to the plate, filled with red wine the colour of black cherries. The room was dimly lit with candles - on the table, in crevices in the walls, on benches, throwing soft light into the corners. She liked the ambience very much.

"Please take a seat," Stuart said, indicating a chair at the table. She turned to her husband, her slave and indicated he should kneel. She removed his coat and tossed it over the arm of the sofa, then removed her cape and tossed it in the same direction. She produced a shiny silver leash and clipped it onto the D-ring attached to the studded collar he wore about his neck. With the leash handle grasped in her right hand, she made her way over to the table. Stuart drew back the chair and she seated herself in it.

"Down," she said to her husband, and immediately he rested his buttocks back against his heels. "Hands," she instructed, and he placed his hands behind his back. Stuart approached from out of the darkness, a pair of black leather wristbands in his hands. He bound each of her slave's wrists with the bands, then fastened them together with a silver snap. Stuart then took his seat on the other side of the table.

"Where is your slave?" she asked Stuart.

"She awaits downstairs," Stuart said, a leer sneaking across his face. She was quite familiar with the features of Stuart's dungeon. She was sure the poor girl was already bound and gagged and waiting for the night's activities with a good measure of trepidation.

"Kneel up," she said to her slave, and he rose as she requested. "Tongue," she demanded, and he obediently opened his mouth and extended his tongue. She left him that way while she gathered the first morsel from the plate and placed it in her mouth. She offered him her fingers and he licked them clean. She picked up the second morsel and placed it directly on his tongue. "Eat," she said, and he slowly drew his tongue back into his head, chewed twice, then swallowed the bite-sized portion.

She paused to sip her wine and glanced across at Stuart.

"Obedient?" he enquired.

"Entirely," she replied. "But always in need of deepening his training."

"What's with the ring?" Stuart asked. Of course - he had seen the ring on her husband's finger when he'd bound his hands together.

"I married him," she said, a note of defiance creeping into her voice.

"Oh-ho!" was Stuart's response. "Then I expect a great deal from this one."

They finished their meal - if it could be called that, slipping morsels into their mouths, giving no further tastes to her husband, sipping their wine, and exchanging pleasantries. Finally, she spoke.

"It's time for dessert, Stuart," she said.

"Indeed it is," Stuart said, rising from his chair. She rose too, and collected a riding crop from the corner behind the table. Stuart rounded the table to stand in front of her slave. He remained as he had been throughout the meal - kneeling up, collar about his neck, leash fastened to it, hands bound behind his back. She stood by his side and tapped his buttocks with the crop.

"Tongue," she said, and he obediently opened his mouth and extended his tongue as he had before. Stuart unzipped his leather pants and took out his turgid cock. Her slave was tall, his mouth was positioned high, but Stuart, also a tall man, was able to rest his cock on her husband's tongue quite comfortably.

"Now suck," she said, tapping him with the crop again.

He closed his lips around the head of Stuart's cock, and began to suck, drawing in the length of it, allowing his lips to slide down the shaft. Stuart placed his hand on the back of her slave's neck and gripped him there lightly, then began to thrust his hips forward, driving his cock into his mouth and down his throat. She watched in admiration as he continue to diligently work his mouth on Stuart's cock, never once gagging, never once pausing.

Stuart's eyes were down cast, watching his cock in her husband's mouth. He stopped moving his hips released his hand and slid his cock out of her slave's warm, wet mouth.

"Open," she said to him, punctuating the instructions with another tap of the crop. "Tongue," she said and he extended his tongue again.

Stuart took hold of his cock, now thoroughly coated with her slave's saliva, and began to work his hand up and down the shaft, careful never to take its head off the tip of the slave's extended tongue. Rhythmically Stuart worked, the muscles in his thighs tensing, his shoulders slightly hunched, his eyes hooded, an indication of his pleasure at the situation.

She stood, watching the scene - her husband's tongue so accommodating, his stance so submissive and appealing. She began to feel the wetness gather in her cunt and make its way towards her trench as her clitoris began to burn. She folded her arms, the crop protruding up from between where she kept it gripped in her right hand, ready to strike should her husband move even the slightest. But he remained perfectly still while Stuart continued to stroke and stroke his cock as it rested on her husband's now struggling tongue.

She noticed a change in Stuart's face - she always marvelled at how he could climax without having to increase the speed of his strokes. It was more about the situation for him than the necessity of over stimulation. Like the mere thought of being turned on could make him come. He kept on stroking and let out a loud sigh as cum began to spurt from the tip of his cock and onto her slave's tongue. She uncrossed her arms and rested the length of the crop against the backs of his thighs.

"Wait," she said firmly, and watched as Stuart continued to stroke himself to the full extent of his climax. By then her slave's tongue was covered in cum which ran down into his mouth, out to the corners and down his chin. He remained with his tongue extended, his eyes turned up towards Stuart, watching his face, waiting for her instructions.

Finally, Stuart stopped. He leaned back slightly, separating his cock from her slave's tongue.

"Now swallow," she instructed her husband. He carefully drew his tongue back inside his mouth, closed his lips and paused a moment. She saw his Adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallowed. "Good," she said, approval overflowing in her voice. "Now clean," she said.

He ignored the cum still oozing at the corners of his own mouth, choosing instead to lick the tip of Stuart's cock clean first. He did a through job, she considered, and knew Stuart would be pleased. She waited until Stuart's cock was spotless then told her slave, "your own face now." His tongue darted out to the corners, collecting the cum there, leaving his lips in pristine condition. "Excellent," she said, and turned her gazed towards Stuart and nodded.

"Time to go down stairs," Stuart stated. He tucked his cock back into his leather trousers and noisily zipped the fly up.

Submitting To Stuart Ch. 02



The night my Mistress took me to meet Stuart changed my relationship with her completely. I was unprepared for what she had in mind that night. But as her slave, it was my duty to do exactly as she asked without question, without hesitation. And of course, as her husband, I was willing to follow her anywhere - to the ends of the earth if that was necessary.

Stuart, my Mistress had explained, was an old friend. When I laid eyes on him, I was immediately impressed by his stature. He was easily as tall as I was, with broad muscular shoulders, pumped up pecks and huge guns. He wore no shirt - only black leather trousers and black leather boots and a fine silver chain around his neck. His hair was dark, his eyes vibrant blue, his jaw square. He had the looks of a model, but was entirely masculine at the same time. Had I been a woman, I might have fallen instantly in lust with Stuart.

The scene at Stuart's house was very arousing. When I saw the dinner table laid out like it was, I assumed it had been set for my wife and I to dine together. I was wrong. Instead, my wife, my Mistress, instructed me to get down on my knees as she fastened a leash to the collar already around my neck. She led me to the table like a prized pet, then had me lean back on my haunches as if I were to beg. When Stuart bound my hands and tied them behind my back, and I knew at that point that things were going to be nothing like I'd imagined.

Mistress declared it was time for dessert; I was under no false misconceptions about what that meant - time for someone to be fucked. I did not think it would be me, or that Stuart would be the one fucking me. Fucking my mouth, to be precise.

Up until that point, I'd had nothing to do with my Mistress's male slaves; she'd only ever trained me in the company of her female slaves. I'd never been introduced to any of the male dominants she knew either - Stuart was the first. He was the first male dominant I'd ever met in fact, and his was the first cock I ever sucked.

That night, it took every ounce of effort I could summon not to react to what was asked of me - because the real art in being a slave, in submitting totally, in my opinion, is in doing as you're asked or instructed without ever showing fear or resistance or the slightest sign of disobedience. When that is achieved, the real training can begin. Stuart presented me with his ample cock, and kneeling there, in front of my Mistress, I knew it was my duty to open my mouth and lick that cock with as much love and devotion as if I was licking out my Mistress's cunt.

So that is what I did. And yet such a thought is impossible! A cock can never compare to a cunt. Not Stuart's cock! It was long, barrel like, the head perfectly sculpted to match his perfect face. I licked and sucked like there was no tomorrow - I knew if I didn't my marriage to my Mistress would almost certainly be over and that was an event that I wanted never to contemplate.

I had never considered what it was like to suck a cock, having never tried it before. It was not like sucking on the faux phallus of my Mistress's favourite gag. Where the phallus was hard and unyielding, Stuart's cock was hot, yet malleable. As I sucked, he responded, swaying his hips back and forth, pushing his cock deeper into my mouth and down my throat. It took every ounce of self control I had in me to prevent myself from gagging - several times the head of Stuart's cock pushed right up against the back of my tongue, that place they call the gag reflex. I closed my eyes lest my Mistress see they were about to begin to water. I made sure they did not.

Then something happened - I thought about my own cock, how I liked it to be sucked, how important it was not to be grazed by teeth, how the saliva acted as a natural lubricant, how I loved having my Mistress's tongue tickle the tip before she jammed into the hole there. I imagined Stuart's cock was my own and I sucked it exactly the way I enjoyed having my own cock sucked. In that moment, all I could think to do was to serve, serve, serve. I did so, and I did it with complete abandon.

Stuart released his grip from the back of my head, and I followed my Mistress's instructions carefully, allowing Stuart to rest his still erect cock on my tongue again. But he did so only lightly, drawing back to give himself enough room to begin jacking off. I knew where this was leading - to a facial, and I hoped I would able to withstand the humiliation that lurked around the edges of my churning stomach.

I opened my eyes and looked up at Stuart. His eyes were firmly fixed on his cock and the way his hand was working up and down the shaft. My knees were screaming by that stage - I was unsure how long I'd been in that position. But no matter how great the pain, I knew I could not move or I'd attract a whipping from my Mistress's crop - the last thing I wanted to have happen now.

All the while, I sensed my Mistress to my left. I wondered what she thought of this scene - and why she felt she must put me through it. It had been several years since I'd made my first and most terrific blunder as her slave, and I had never put a foot wrong since. I knew my abject submission was her goal, and I was convinced we had achieved it many times over. But she always thought of some new task, some new circumstance that would take me even further into my submission to her. At moments like these, I often wondered what would have become of me if she hadn't married me, hadn't made me entirely her own.

It was then that Stuart came all over my tongue. Cum oozed from the end of his cock and spread quickly over the top of my tongue, down my throat and down to my face. Its smell was warm, yet acrid, almost pleasant and yet not. Cum continued to ooze from Stuart's cock until I thought his orgasm would never end, his load was infinite. Yet it did end.

Then my Mistress told me to swallow. I did so without hesitation ensuring my face remained entirely passive, even though the taste of Stuart's cum was grossly unpleasant. She asked me to clean up, and I immediately put Stuart's comfort first, licking his cock clean, breathing a sigh of relief that the acrid taste was not so intense in the remnants on his cock as it had been when I swallowed his load. When I was done, I leaned back then ran my tongue around my own lips, licking off any cum that remained there - I did not wish my Mistress to think I was a sloppy slave. I knew she appreciated me always being in pristine condition.

"Excellent," my Mistress stated, and my heart was filled with satisfaction because I knew I had obtained her approval. It was all I could do to remain on my knees; I wanted to leap for joy at having pleased her so. Really, the task was not that hard - sucking Stuart's cock had been much easier and surprisingly more pleasant than I'd expected. He had not been belligerent in any way - he treated me as any good Master would a slave - a sex toy to be used for pleasure. And I was glad that I had been able to serve him on behalf of my Mistress. It was the least I could do for her.



Submitting To Stuart Ch. 03



Downstairs in Stuart's dungeon, the lights were quite dim. Mistress Lydia had allowed her slave, Thomas, to walk down the stairs because having him crawl was simply too impractical. Contrary to common expectations, Stuart had created a warm, welcoming dungeon - no bare brick walls and cold floors here. Instead, the walls were padded and lined with red velvet, the floor carpeted in a steel grey short loop pile. It was clean and immaculate – a modern dungeon for a modern Master. Candles were lit, creating a soft light, emitting a warm fragrance. It was the perfect place to train a slave.

As she walked to the middle of the room, she finally spotted Stuart's slave.

"Darling, this is Mistress Lydia," Stuart called over his shoulder to the girl. "And that is Thomas, her slave."

Lydia did not bother to make eye contact with the girl. She didn't greet her either. Stuart had her bound to a pole, her arms tied loosely behind her back, which meant she had been there for quite some time. A tightly restrained slave could only ever be kept in bondage for twenty minutes or so before their muscles atrophied and their circulation was cut off. Stuart had skilfully bound her so that she could remain that way indefinitely. A gag was inserted in her mouth and fastened behind her head. Her dress was hitched up and snagged in the ropes that encircled her waist. Her white cotton underwear had been dragged down to her thighs, revealing an immaculately waxed mons with a thin line of hair trailing down the middle and between her legs - a nice touch, Lydia thought.

"Down," Lydia instructed her husband-slave, and Thomas immediately went down on his hands and knees. She yanked on the silver chain of his leash once, and he immediately began to suck the backs of her knees through her fishnet stockings. She paused a moment to enjoy his service. Then she yanked on the leash again, and he collapsed forward, placing his forehead on the floor, kowtowing deeply. "Good," she praised him. "Stuart?" she enquired.

"Over here," Stuart beckoned, indicating the wall. Two chains hung suspended from a strong dark beam in the ceiling - obviously a barer for the floor above. Wrist cuffs dangled at the end of each chain, a separator bar connecting the two. A cruel, leather-sheathed rigid phallus protruded from the wall, a block of wood placed below it. She led her slave over to the wall.

"Stand," she said, and he obediently rose to his feet. She turned him around and positioned him under the wrist cuffs. Thomas automatically raised his arms - he had no need to be told what to do. Stuart fastened each of his wrists into the cuffs, then backed him towards the wall. "Step up," Lydia said, and he lifted first his right foot, then his left, and rose onto the step. Stuart produced a tube of gel, squeezed a generous amount onto Lydia's fingers, then held Thomas's ass-cheeks apart. She deposited the lube around the puckered ring of his arse and began working into the hole, noting Thomas had done an excellent job of cleaning his rectum out earlier that night.

"Bend forward," Lydia instructed, and he did so, bending from the hips rather than the waist. His arse-hole was perfectly level with the phallus. She gripped him by the left shoulder and lowered him back onto it. He easily took the entire phallus up his arse, the black shaft of it disappearing before her eyes. "Good," she said. "Good slave."

She stepped away as Stuart turned the handle to a pulley that picked up the slack on the chains. Her slave's arms were fully extended above his head now. She bent down towards the wooden block.

"Lift," she said, tapping Thomas's right ankle. He lifted his foot and Lydia placed it to the side of the block, heel high and leaning against the wall. She tapped his left foot and she repeated the process, leaving him standing on tip-toe. She removed the block and placed it out of reach then returned to face her slave, now suspended, impaled, and utterly as risk.

"Move, and you'll tear that precious arsehole I love so much," she said. Thomas's eyes were wide. Lydia noted his hips were tilted backwards, his body was immobile. Stuart had angled the phallus perfectly when he'd attached it to the wall - Lydia was entirely confident her slave was not in any danger.

"What do you say?" she asked Thomas.

"Thank you, Mistress," he whispered. He held his composure perfectly.

Lydia turned towards Stuart who had been observing everything from behind the flickering light of the candles.

"I am impressed," he said. The full extent of Stuart's compliment was not lost on her.

"Did you expect anything less?" Lydia enquired.

"Indeed not," Stuart replied. "Come," Stuart said, inclining his head towards his little slave girl, who had observed Thomas being put into restraints from her own side of the room. Lydia followed Stuart over to where the girl was bound. He collected a pair of scissors from the top of the dresser on the way.

"She's misbehaved this week," Stuart said. He took hold of the girl's underwear, reefed them out to the side, then snipped them off with the scissors, tossing them into a bin by the wall.

"I see," Lydia said to Stuart. "The offence?"

"Masturbating without permission," Stuart stated. He pried her pussy lips apart, displaying an engorged clitoris. "Look," he said. "Friction burns." Lydia leaned in close and observed the angry broken capillaries on the surface of the delicate pink skin.

"Hmm," Lydia said. "I know just the thing."

"Be my guest then," Stuart said, stepping back and folding his arms across his chest.

Lydia went over to the dresser on the side of the room, and opened the top drawer. From it she extracted a wooden spoon and a pair of nipple clamps on a short silver chain. She slapped the spoon once against her leg, enjoying the sharp crack it made when it connected with her shapely thigh. She slid the drawer shut then returned to where Stuart's slave was standing bound to the pole.

Lydia clasped the girl's right pussy flap and pulled it outwards, attaching the tiny peg at one end of the nipple clamp to it. She threaded the chain around the back of the girl's hips, then collected it on the other side, drew out the left pussy flap and pulled the chain tight before attaching the second peg. The effect was perfect - the girl's pussy flaps were neatly peeled back revealing the swollen labia inside and her clit within.

"Nice," Stuart said.

"Not nearly as nice as it will be," Lydia said to Stuart. She held the wooden spoon out to him. "Would you like to administer the punishment, or shall I?" she asked. After all, the girl was his slave, and he was the host.

"No, no. By all means," Stuart said, indicating the girl. "Be my guest."

"Very well then," Lydia said. She stepped over to the left and turned side on so as to give Stuart an uninterrupted view of the proceedings. Clasping the wooden spoon in her right hand, she raised her arm above her head then swiftly brought it crashing down to connect violently with the girl's clit. "Say when," she said to Stuart, who folded his arms again, smiled and nodded his head with approval.

"Proceed," he said.

Over and over again she raised the wooden spoon above her head and slapped it down against the girl's clitoris. The girl remained perfectly still the first second and third times, but began to squirm when the strikes continued on and on. On the tenth strike, a glistening drop of clear fluid appeared on the girl's thighs, but the punishment was far from over. On, the strikes continued - fifteen, twenty, twenty-five strikes. Finally, the girl began to moan uncontrollably behind her gag. Her cheeks became flushed with colour as the muscles in her thighs tensed. Stuart knew his slave was close to climax and that was when he stepped forward.

"Enough," he said calmly. "It is a punishment, not a pleasure."

"Very well then," Lydia said. Her own cheeks were flushed from the excitement. Dealing out the punishment had been quite satisfying.

"So, my pet," Stuart said, addressing his slave. "Are you repentant?" Her big brown eyes, were full of tears that threatened to overflow and run down her cheeks. She nodded her head in acquiescence. "I hope you have learned your lesson."

Stuart turned away. Mistress Lydia had felt sure he would get her down now, but it was clear he intended to leave her tied up. She glanced at the girl - she might be a disobedient slave, but she had tenacity, a quality Lydia admired. She wondered if Stuart planned to share her at all.



Submitting To Stuart Ch. 04



I could not believe it when my Mistress led me down into Master Stuart's dungeon. It was the most beautiful dungeon I had ever seen - not decked out with dark wood and chains which was so common and yet distasteful. Instead, the walls were covered in lush red velvet, the floor was covered in steel grey carpet, and the furniture was either red leather or white.

Master Stuart called to his slave, tied against a pole on one side of the room. I allowed my eyes to flick in that direction and was astounded to see none other than Sasha, my ex-girlfriend, was the slave in question.

It had been years since I had seen Sasha. We had been together when I was still vanilla - our sex life had been unbelievable, but we had parted ways because our worlds were poles apart. I was becoming very focused on my career, and she was still finishing college, and partying really hard. We certainly pushed ourselves to the limit, but we never contemplated any form of bondage or discipline - never even talked about it! For my own part, my descent into a state of submission had been like going down a rabbit hole. I would never have guessed that Sasha was out there somewhere on a parallel path. 

My Mistress had me crawl on my hands and knees over to a wall opposite to where Sasha was bound. It was so hard for me not to let my eyes drift towards her in order to stare at her and the state she was in. I wanted to examine her face – see if she recognised me, see if she was as surprised to see me as I was to see her. 

I should have been paying more attention to where I was being led. My Mistress commanded that I stand up and I did so immediately, coming face to face with an enormous black leather phallus fixed to the wall. My heart began to race because I knew she intended to mount me on that thing and I did not wish to be humiliated in that way in front of Sasha. But I had no choice – my Mistress was my wife, and my single aim was to please her in every way. When she commanded, I obeyed, and this instance was no different.

I turned my back to the wall and held my hands high while Master Stuart buckled my wrists into cuffs attached to chains and a spreader bar over my head. He held my ass-cheeks apart while my Mistress lubed my arsehole with gel. It was cold and forbidding, but her touch was comforting and I attempted to calm myself down in preparation for what was about to take place. With every muscle in my body tense – mounting the phallus would cause damage and severe pain (well more severe than necessary) and could possibly cause me to lose my composure, the thought of which I could not bare.

I stepped up onto the wooden mounting block and allowed my Mistress to guide me as she impaled my arse on the phallus. The cold hard tip of it nudged against the tight ring of my anus, but my Mistress did not pause as she forced me down onto it. The phallus plunged up my arse and white stars appeared before my eyes as the searing, burning pain took hold of my body. It hurt! My anus was extended far beyond what I considered could be natural, and the feeling of the phallus accommodated in my rectum was invasive almost to the point of violation. I began to breathe in short stilted breaths, concerned that any movement would cause me to tear my arse right up to the top of my crack. I prayed that I was safe – but I trusted my Mistress implicitly and knew she would never put me in harm’s way.

She bent before me and moved my feet off the mounting block and positioned them with my heels leaning up against the wall so that I was forced to stand on tiptoe. It was uncomfortable but necessary – if I did not stand that way, the phallus would be forced two or three inches further up my arse, which I was convinced, would be the end of me.

I settled myself, thanked my Mistress, and was pleased that she chose not to blindfold me on this occasion. I kept my eyes glued to my Mistress as she wandered over to Sasha on the other side of the room. I listened as Master Stuart explained to my Mistress that Sasha had been bound thus, and therefore missed the dinner upstairs, because she had been disobedient. I was not surprised when my Mistress offered to punish her, but I couldn’t help feeling concerned for Sasha – I had seen my Mistress be incredibly brutal with unruly slaves in the past, and I worried that Sasha was in for the beating of her life. My Mistress went over to a dresser, and left my view of Sasha uninterrupted.

She was wearing a cream coloured dress, which looked, like one of her work outfits. It was buttoned through the front to the waist, and the buttons had all been undone and the dress pulled open to expose Sasha’s beautiful little breasts. I had always appreciated her breasts when we were together – they were firm and perfectly round and seemed gravity defying to me. They had no droop or sag, like some tits did. Standing or lying down, Sasha’s tits looked just ‘so’. The nipples were a dark pink colour, the areolas small and round. I had chewed on those nipples, quite often to the point of almost breaking the skin. Sasha had told me they usually peeled two days later. Back then I thought that was the ultimate experience in pain I could give a girl.

Sasha’s dress was hitched up to her hips under the ropes that bound her to the pole behind her back. The white nylon rope had been looped around her waist five times, then threaded around her back and over each of her shoulders so that it almost looked like a harness. Hers hands were drawn behind her back – I could not see how they had been fastened but it caused her breasts to protrude forwards even more. My eyes drifted from the ropes down to the bare flesh of her mons, which had lost it’s shock of dark red hair that I was so used to seeing there. Instead a thin line of hair remained, trailing down between her legs, a poignant reminder of the many times I’d had my head between her legs and had sucked insistently at her clitoris until she came, whispering my name, “Thomas, Thomas, Thomas…” as she did.

My wife, my Mistress, returned to stand in front of Sasha. In her hand was a set of nipple clamps connected by a silver chain. My Mistress took Sasha’s left outer labia between her fingers and applied one of the two clamps. I couldn’t help it – I flinched because I imagined Sasha would object to the pain. But when I looked at her face, her eyes were unmoved and her cherry lips were firmly closed. My Mistress threaded the chain around behind Sasha’s hips then fastened the other clamp to the labia on the other side. The flesh was instantly peeled back, and from where I stood I could clearly see Sasha’s clitoris, pink, swollen and no doubt throbbing with fear.

My Mistress and Master Stuart exchanged some words. Then my Mistress raised a wooden spoon above her shoulder and brought it down, smack! Hard against Sasha’s clit. Every muscle in my rectum contracted on the phallus forced up my arse. I was so startled by the slapping sound that I jumped just a fraction and was immediately punished by a jarring sensation right up my colon. I forced myself to stabilise my position again – I could not risk drawing attention to myself, let alone slipping in my precarious position. I focused, returned to that almost Zen state of stillness I’d previously achieved, then looked again across the room at where Sasha was being whipped with a wooden spoon.

She flinched with every blow now, but neither her Master nor my Mistress attempted to stop her or force her to be still. As the little moans she emitted from her mouth began to grow louder and louder, I realised that Sasha was not in discomfort at all. I knew those moans and they were moans of pleasure. My Mistress was beating Sasha to the point of climax and she was enjoying it! Without warning, my own cock began to grow hard at thought and within seconds was standing to full attention. I gazed down at the purple head of my penis and watched pre-cum begin to ooze out. I wished my hands were free to grip my cock and stroke it vigorously – but then I remembered I was not allowed to masturbate without permission anyway.

Master Stuart stepped forward and stopped my Mistress from delivering the final blow. It was not a pleasure, I heard him say, and when I looked at Sasha’s face I could see that not being allowed to come was causing her total agony. I wished I could rush over there and tantalise her poor punished clitoris with my willing tongue. I wanted to finish the job, I wanted her to achieve her release. I wanted to see that look on her face that told me she was satisfied – but then I remembered: she was not mine anymore. She was a slave and I was too. Our bodies were no longer our own to command. My heart sank. I knew the night had only begun for Sasha, and I would be made to stand by and watch.



Submitting To Stuart Ch. 05



Stuart took the wooden spoon from Lydia's hand. He turned and walked over to the dresser, opened a drawer and replaced the spoon. He closed the drawer, opened another, and brought out a pair of soft cuffs, a pair of leather ankle cuffs and a silver ball flogger.

"Lets change the pace a little," Stuart said to Lydia. "Untie the rope," he said, indicating the cords that bound his slave, Sasha, to the pole. It was fine white synthetic rope - Stuart enjoyed using this type of rope because it was possible to bind more loops around the torso and hands which gave a much prettier effect, and was also more cutting in the event of a struggle. But he never needed to worry about that with Sasha - he had trained her extremely well. In the beginning, she had suffered extensive rope burns, but now, he noted there were rarely any marks when he loosened the ties.

Lydia dragged the last of the rope from around Sasha's waist and brought her arms down to her sides.

"Turn around," Lydia commanded and Sasha did so immediately. Lydia grasped the carriage of the zip at the neck on the back of Sasha's dress and undid it down to its base. Lydia dragged the dress off Sasha's shoulders and allowed it to drop to the floor. She was impressed to see that underneath the dress Sasha wore a well made half-corset made of creamy satin.

"Step," Lydia told Sasha, and the girl-slave stepped out of her crumpled dress. Lydia kicked it out of the way, wondering if it would collect dirt and dust smears as she did. "Hands against the pole," Lydia demanded. Sasha raised her arms over her head and bent forward to place them against the pole she'd been tied to for the last two or so hours. Lydia pushed her booted foot between Sasha's ankles and shifted the girl's right foot outwards. She then scuffed the girl's left foot in the opposite direction, positioning her so that her legs were well spread.

Stuart stood behind Lydia, admiring the way she had posed his slave.

"Conducting an inspection?" he said quietly in Lydia's ear.

Lydia did not speak. She simply bent forward and thrust the fingers of her black-gloved right hand into the girl's trench. The smooth leather slipped along the soaked pink skin.

"She enjoyed her punishment," Lydia stated.

"As all good slaves should," Stuart quipped.

Lydia pushed her index and forefinger into the girl's cunt then turned them to probe for her g-spot. Sasha never uttered a sound, but Lydia noted that the girl's knees buckled ever so slightly, indicating that not only was she aroused, but that she was still on edge from the walloping Lydia had just given her. Lydia withdrew her fingers immediately, then raised her hand around to the girl's mouth and shoved her gloved fingers through her lips.

"Taste yourself, little slave," Lydia said. Sasha quickly sucked her own cunt juices from Lydia's glove - when Lydia withdrew her fingers, the leather was spotlessly clean. She stepped out of Stuart's way - he was, after all, the girl's Master, and he obviously had something in mind.

"Turn around, slave," Stuart instructed Sasha. She took her hands away from the pole then pivoted on the heels of her white stilettos to face her Master. There was nothing belligerent in the girl's face at all. She submissively lowered her eyes and cast them down to the left, exposing a delicately angular cheekbone, which Stuart would later kiss. Stuart paused a moment to allow Lydia to enjoy the full effect of his slave in her attire. The corset was cinched in impossibly tight around her waist creating a dramatic curve between her ribs and hip-bone, which Stuart knew made it very difficult for her to breathe with ease. Yet it forced her small round breasts upwards, accentuating the subtlety of their shape, thrusting the pretty pink nipples forward. Sasha's hips were slight, the perfect frame for her almost adolescent-looking mons, which featured a thin line of blonde hair down the middle. Stuart never allowed her to retain any hair between her legs - it was inconvenient and unsightly besides. But he liked the effect of the line - it served as a reminder that she was indeed a woman, not a child. Sasha's thighs dropped away to her slim legs, thin ankles and tiny feet, encased in their stilettos. Stuart's heart surged with admiration - Sasha was, without a doubt, his current favourite.

"Step forward," he instructed. Sasha took two shaky steps on her heels and came to within inches of Stuart's muscular chest. He took her by the hand and led her over to the middle of the room, positioning her on a plush red rug. "Kneel down," he said softly, and Sasha obeyed immediately, dropping to her knees, her calves extended out behind her. Stuart took her wrists, one after the other, bent them and placed them on the back of her neck. He wrapped the soft cuffs around them then connected the cuffs together with a snap. Stuart stepped back and bent to add the leather cuffs to Sasha's ankles.

Lydia made her way over to where the two were positioned on the rug. She stood to the left of the girl while Stuart stood to the right. He held the silver ball flogger in his hand and allowed the strands to swing lazily as he inspected his slave.

"Take this," Stuart said, passing Lydia the flogger. She accepted it graciously then watched as Stuart went back to the dresser to open yet another drawer. He extracted a black latex flogger then returned to where Lydia was waiting. A smile crept across her lips.

"You're quite outraged by her disobedience, aren't you?" she stated.

"Outraged? No. But I do demand complete submission, and in this instance there is only one way to extract it." With that Stuart swung the latex flogger back and struck his slave across the back of her thighs just below her butt-cheeks. "Please," he said to Lydia, who did not miss her cue. She raised the silver ball flogger, tilted the girl's face up and away, then brought it sharply down across the top of her breasts. Sasha visibly flinched, but did not make a sound. Before she'd even had time to catch her breath Stuart delivered another blow to her behind. It was completely unexpected and before she had time to register the pain Lydia struck her again on her breasts.

And so Master and Mistress continued, striking the girl relentlessly, alternating between buttocks and breasts, until thin red welts began to form on the soft white flesh. Sasha never moved, never cried out, never once swayed. Lydia had never observed such obedience under such extreme discipline. She looked across at Stuart, silently enquiring whether he wanted to continue. He shook his head, indicating that it was time to stop. He was breathing hard, excited by the marks he'd made and no doubt by the pain he'd caused. His cock was hard in his pants but ever the gracious host, he deferred to his guest's pleasure.

"Would you like to fuck her face?" Stuart offered.

"Why thank you," Lydia said, delighted that Stuart would share such a unique little slave. She handed him the silver ball flogger then moved to stand before the girl who was still kneeling obediently on the red rug. Lydia cupped her hand around the girl's chin and tilted her head up to gaze in her face. "You will please me as if I were your own Mistress," Lydia said softly but firmly to Sasha, noting her eyes were brimming with tears.

"What do you say?" Stuart said, swatting her across the arse with the latex flogger again. The girl started, surprised by the unexpected blow.

"Yes Mistress," she whimpered. Lydia felt privileged. She reached down and unclipped the silver fastenings on the crotch of her latex briefs then dragged the slash wide open. She slipped her hand behind the girl's head, grasping her by her bound hands then pushed her own pelvis forward as she buried the girl's face between her legs.

Stuart stepped away and returned with a chair, placing it by Lydia's side. Lydia lifted her left leg and placed her booted foot on the seat of the chair, drawing her snatch open wider, then slid the fingers of her left hand down to hold her pussy flap out of the way so her swollen clit could be serviced. Lydia pushed the girl's head further into her crotch and was thrilled to feel her warm wet tongue licking along her soaked trench and coming to connect to her clit. Sasha fastened her lips around the throbbing bud and began to suck insistently, occasionally grazing the skin with her teeth, working the area with her nose, massaging the trench with her face. Lydia heard the girl's breath becoming heavy as she struggled for air. She had no intention of giving her a moment's pause.

Stuart stood back, watching as his slave serviced his friend. It was an exquisite picture, Sasha on her knees, her butt-cheeks clenching in obvious rhythm with her tonguing, her wavy blonde hair trapped under her pinned wrists, her head buried between Lydia's legs, her face fastened to Lydia's cunt. Lydia was a work of art herself; her half-cup leather corset heaving as she thrust her pelvis against Sasha's head. Lydia's long black hair cascaded down her back as she titled her face upwards and closed her eyes to enjoy what was, Stuart knew, an excellent licking. Lydia's hand tightened on Sasha's neck, and Stuart marvelled as Lydia's hips froze then erupted into an uncontrollable shudder as she came all over his slave's face. He was immensely proud of Sasha, and very pleased to see his guest so satisfied.

Lydia released Sasha from her grip. The girl leaned back on her haunches, her hands still cuffed behind her neck. She gasped for air through her open mouth, which, Stuart observed, was coated with Lydia's cunt juices. He stepped forward, licked Sasha's face clean, and finished with a passionate kiss on her over worked mouth as she continued to struggle for air.

"Good girl," he said, kissing her again. "Good, very good. You are now forgiven for your transgression."



Submitting To Stuart Ch. 06



Lydia stepped back. Stuart's slave, Sasha, had just given her a rocking orgasm and she felt entirely unsteady in her spike-heeled boots as a result.

"Would you like a drink?" Stuart enquired, ever the concerned host, ensuring he catered to his guest's every need.

"Thank you, yes," Lydia whispered. "Thank you for the use of your slave," she continued. "I'm quite impressed by the level to which you have trained her. Her tonguing technique is beyond compare."

"It's my pleasure to see you satisfied," Stuart said, handing Lydia a glass of champagne.

He stood next to his slave and stroked her hair lovingly then reached out to the cuffs still caught around her wrists at the back of her neck and unclasped the snap that connected them. Immediately Sasha wrapped her arms around his right leg and clung to him in a desperate display of submission, burying her head in his crotch. Stuart wiped the sweat from Sasha's forehead then withdrew his hand, signalling that her display of devotion had been noted. She released his leg, sat back on her haunches and rested her cuffed hands in her lap.

"That's enough for you for now, my pet," Stuart said to Sasha. He bent over and collected her off the floor then turned and carried her over to a chrome cage in the corner of the room. Stuart levered the door open with his elbow and placed the sagging girl inside on a luscious red velvet cushion. Stuart picked up the collar that lay on the floor and fastened it about her neck, then connected it to a silver chain attached to the bars on the side. Stuart bent into the cage, kissed his slave on the cheekbone, then withdrew and swung the door shut. "Rest, pet. You shall service me later." Stuart clicked the padlock on the door into place then turned his back on the girl in her cage and walked away. He would have no further thought for her until much later.

"Well Stuart," Lydia said. "You've been such a generous host. And I've thoroughly enjoyed the night thus far. I wondered if you would accept the pleasure my slave as a token of my appreciation?"

Stuart's head turned and his eyes landed on Lydia's husband-slave, impaled on a leather-covered wooden phallus against the far wall. His body was completely extended, his arms anchored above his head in cuffs attached to chains. Stuart noted the slave's cock was fully erect.

"Your slave seems to have become quite excited by the proceedings thus far," Stuart quipped. Lydia glanced at her slave.

"I've trained him to always be ready," Lydia replied. "But his cock is not needed right now," she continued. "I've placed him on the phallus for a reason. I find the best way to drive him into submission is through a good hard fisting. But his arse is hardly open, Stuart. The phallus has done some good, I’m sure, but I wonder whether you can help more?"

Stuart nodded his head. He knew what Lydia had in mind.

"Come," he said, mounting the platform against the wall where Lydia's slave was strung up. He loosened the slack on the chains and lowered the bar to which both cuffs and chains were attached. Thomas looked more than a little relieved - he'd been in that position for far too long - surely his muscles were screaming with pain? Lydia approached and signalled for Thomas to lift first his right foot, then his left, then pushed the block of wood under his feet. He was instantly elevated about ten inches - enough for Lydia to assist him in stepping off the phallus.

Stuart removed the spreader bar from between Thomas's wrist cuffs, then reconnected them together with a double ended silver snap.

"Follow," Lydia said, fastening the leash to Thomas's collar again, but allowing him to walk upright. She led him over to an ottoman by the sofa and indicated that he should kneel before it. Thomas bent to his knees, the muscles in his thighs and buttocks screaming from their recent torture. He tried not to wince in pain, but he knew Lydia caught the grimace that fluttered across his face. He saw her press her lips together in disapproval and knew he would pay for the mistake if not now, then at some later stage.

Lydia snatched at Thomas's cuffed wrists and wrenched them forward over the ottoman to the floor. She placed the arch of her boot over the connector so that Thomas could not lift his hands without causing her to lose her balance.

"Stuart," Lydia said placing her hands on her corseted hips. "My slave is ready for your use."

Stuart smiled. He grabbed the tube of lube from the coffee table where he'd deposited it earlier and unscrewed the lid. He squeezed an ample amount onto the tips of his fingers, then massaged it around Thomas's already gaping arsehole. Stuart unzipped his leather pants and dropped them far enough to allow his turgid penis to escape its prison. It had been blazing in his pants all night, and he was pleased that Lydia had turned her slave over to him like this. Not only did he fancy a good hard fuck, he knew his cock, which was not an average size by any stretch of the imagination, would invade her husband's arse stretching to new proportions, making it that much easier for her to fist him whenever she pleased.

Stuart dropped to his knees behind Thomas and plunged his cock deep within his arse. Thomas grunted once and jerked his hands under Lydia's boot, but luckily it was not enough to tip her off balance. Stuart slowly withdrew the full length of his cock until only the head remained clasped within the tight ring of Thomas's anus, then he thrust forward again, slamming his hips up against Thomas's buttocks. Stuart grasped Thomas by the hips and began pounding away in earnest. He gripped Thomas’s butt-cheeks with his thumbs, dragging them further apart, looking down as he did to watch his cock as he slammed it up Thomas's arse, marvelling at the extent to which Thomas was accommodating him.

Stuart closed his eyes and tilted his head back, surrendering to the delicious tingling sensation around his cock. He thrust his hips back and forth, driving his cock deeper and deeper, enjoying the squelching sounds of the soft cavity within, filled with lube. He worked with a steady rhythm, stroking for his personal pleasure only, not caring if Thomas was comfortable or not - after all, he was Lydia's slave, and Lydia had given him over to serve another, and his only purpose at that point was to be subservient above all else.

The steel stud at the top of Stuart's leather pants rattled as he worked his hips back and forth, the loose waistband slapping against Thomas's buttock with each thrust. Stuart felt a sweat break out in the centre of his back, and he knew that he could push himself to orgasm now if he so chose. He opened his eyes and glanced up at Lydia. She was staring at him intently, her red lips parted, her eyes hooded, her breath heavy. He raised his eyebrows as if to enquire whether he might fill her slave's arse with his cum. Lydia nodded once and Stuart broke eye contact, glancing down again at his cock, now slipping easily in and out of Thomas's arse.

Stuart quickened his pace, slamming his cock deeper, not caring whether he ripped Thomas's arsehole or not. He was confident this would not happen - there was enough lube to ensure no such tear could take place. Again and again he jammed his hips against Thomas's buttocks, forcing the entire length of his cock into the cavity, then extracting it again, relishing the warm sensation that was over taking his body. Stuart's balls tightened and lifted. He raised one knee to steady himself as he banged against Thomas's arse once, twice, three more times, then finally thrust his hips forward and froze as he pushed himself over the edge and filled Lydia's slave with his red hot cum.

"Argghhh!" Stuart cried out, overcome by the effort, thrilled at the simple pleasure his guest had awarded him. He paused as his orgasm subsided and the twitching in his cock began to slow then finally stop. He withdrew his spent cock, watching as it slipped from Thomas's juice-filled hole. 

"Ah," Stuart said to Lydia. "A fine slave you have here. I don't think you'll have any more trouble fisting him into submission."

Stuart rose from where he'd been kneeling, gasping for breath as he did. He left his cock dangling out of his pants while he turned and walked over to the dresser where a pile of white towels lay folded on the top. He took one from the pile and wiped his cock clean, tossing the towel into a basket by the dresser when he was done. Stuart picked up another towel, walked over to Lydia and offered it to her. She removed her boot from over Thomas's cuffs, and took the towel from Stuart. She walked around behind Thomas and bent down to inspect Stuart's handiwork.

"Nice," she said gazing at Thomas's reddened arsehole. "You've made things so much easy for me." She dabbed at the lube and cum oozing out of his overextended anus and stopped it from making its way down the back of his thighs. If there was one thing Lydia couldn't stand, it was a messy slave. She wiped up the drips with the towel, then lobbed it into the basket over in the corner.

"Stuart," Lydia said. "We've had some special times breaking in slaves and training them together."

"Indeed we have," Stuart replied, wondering where this was leading.

"I admire your skill immensely," Lydia continued. "And when you feel quite recovered, I wonder if you would do me the honour of playing my Dom tonight?"

"Lydia," Stuart said, utterly surprised. "I'm honoured. Of course I would be delighted."



Submitting To Stuart Ch. 07



Stuart wandered over to the red leather sofa and flung himself down upon it. His leather pants squeaked as they connected with the cushions and his still sweaty skin slipped as his leaned against the arm.

"Lydia," Stuart said. "Come sit by me." Stuart patted the seat next to him.

Lydia left Thomas, her husband and slave, draped over the ottoman, his arse still on display. She walked over to the sofa, then demurely bent her knees sideways and sat down next to Stuart's hips. She placed her hands in her lap and looked up at him submissively. Stuart held out his arms to Lydia and she immediately bent forward for him to wrap them around her. Stuart brought Lydia's head down to rest on his bare muscular chest, and began to affectionately stroke her hair.

"Sweet Lydia," Stuart purred. "Are you telling me you have become a switch bitch?"

"Not at all," Lydia murmured. "But tonight, watching you flog your slave then fuck mine, I couldn't help but want to be part of the action."

"I see," Stuart said, continuing to run his hand over her long dark hair, brushing it away from her face and down her back. Stuart pushed his hand down the back of Lydia's latex briefs and cupped her right buttock within.

Stuart had known Lydia for several years. They had met one night at a private party hosted by a mutual friend. Lydia had a girl slave in tow that night, and Stuart was highly impressed by the level of obedience the girl exhibited. Lydia had put her slave on display, cinching her thighs wide open over the sides of a chair, inviting the guests at the party to feel the girl's cunt. She didn't bother to tie the girl's hands, did not blindfold or gag her - Lydia had simply demanded that the girl be used as her Mistress saw fit and the girl had unswervingly complied.

Stuart had not sampled Lydia's slave that night. His attention was firmly focused on the Mistress who captivated his heart and made his cock rock hard. Lydia had been wearing a black leather corset that night, her breasts neatly encased in the bustier section at the front. At the rear Lydia had draped a veil of black gauze that hung down like a train with ostrich feathers decoratively cascading over the top. Every time she drifted past Stuart the air was stirred by her feathered skirt, and something in Stuart's soul was set aflame.

Stuart returned his attention to Lydia, now lying sweetly on his chest.

"I do not want you to be my submissive," Stuart stated frankly. "But I do want to fuck you. Would you like that?" he enquired.

"Yes," Lydia breathed against Stuart's skin.

"Yes what?" Stuart demanded, squeezing Lydia in his arms and laughing.

"Yes Master Stuart!" Lydia replied, a smile spreading across her face.

"Wait here," Stuart instructed Lydia as he slid out from under her. "And get those infernal briefs off!" he quipped.

Stuart walked over to the dresser and opened one of the drawers at the bottom. From within it he took a pair of small leather wrist cuffs, a silver snap, a single leather ankle cuff and a piece of shiny red rope. He returned to the sofa and gazed down at Lydia, her latex briefs now completely removed to reveal a neat triangle of hair on her mons. Stuart leaned over and ran his hand down the length of her corset.

"I want this off too," he stated unequivocally. Lydia rolled onto her left hip then turned over onto her stomach, exposing the lacings at the back of the corset. There were two sets - one was strung through the holes as the bottom of the corset, and the other which controlled the ones at the top - both tied in the middle at the waist. Stuart pulled on one lace and then the other, releasing Lydia from the constricting device. He slid the corset down over Lydia's hips and legs then dragged it off over her feet and neatly placed it on the other arm of the sofa at the far end.

Stuart looked back at Lydia lying in repose face down, her soft white form a direct contrast to the vibrant red of the leather cushions. She was lovely! Her dark hair had spread over her bare back, concealing the vertical lines the corset left imprinted on her delicate skin around her rib cage and waist. Lydia's legs were covered by black stay-ups and her feet were encased in her patent leather boots. Stuart decided he liked the look of the boots - he would leave them on. Her buttocks were two halves of a perfectly formed peach. Stuart leaned forward to run his tongue lightly along the crevice between the cheeks. Lydia moaned softly as soon as his tongue touched her skin.

"Easy, my pet," Stuart soothed, stroking the small of her back with the palm of his hand. "I'll take you soon enough!" Stuart gripped Lydia by the hips and turned her over to face him again. She was light under his touch. He wished he could have Lydia to himself for an entire night - there were things he yearned to do to her petite body. But for now, he stepped away from her and walked around to the end of the sofa where her head lay.

"Lift your head," Stuart said, and Lydia did so. He scraped all of her long dark hair out from under her, running his fingers through it's luxurious length, and draping it over the arm of the sofa then placing Lydia's head back down again. "Now raise your arms," Stuart continued. Lydia lifted her arms from her side to above her head and offered Stuart her wrists, which she knew he was going to bind. He placed the leather wrists cuffs about her slender hands and fastened the buckles on each in turn. Stuart bent Lydia's arms so that her elbows pointed up towards the ceiling, then brought a red synthetic strap out from under the sofa and threaded the silver snap through the D-ring at its end. Stuart clipped the snap onto each of the cuffs on Lydia's wrists, then checked to ensure the restraint was secure.

Stuart leaned forward over Lydia's face and gazed into her eyes.

"Alright?" Stuart enquired.

"Yes, Sir," Lydia replied.

"No need for that," Stuart replied then dipped his head to deliver a passionate kiss to Lydia's mouth. His lips were soft and moist as they connected with hers, encouraging her to open her mouth and receive his tongue.

Then Stuart broke away from the kiss and stood up straight again. He walked to the back of the sofa and leaned over to grab Lydia's left ankle off the seat. He wrapped the final leather cuff over the top of her boot, buckled it tight and took the red rope from his pocket. He threaded the rope through the D-ring on the cuff then draped it over the back of the sofa down to the middle leg on the floor at the back, tying the rope off securely there.

Stuart went back to the front of the sofa to admire his handiwork. Lydia was stretched out along the seat, her hands tied above her head, her glorious dark hair spread like a halo around her face. Her booted ankle was suspended high on the top of the sofa back, and Stuart ran his eyes from Lydia's ankle all the way up the inside of her leg to the shiny pink flesh that now lay completely exposed between her thighs. Stuart gazed intently at Lydia's cunt, so perfectly put at his disposal. He was delighted that she had removed all traces of hair from between her legs - the triangle on her mons was decoration only. He looked long and hard; he wanted Lydia to feel his eyes burning on her flesh. When at last he flicked his gaze up to meet hers, he noted she was not ashamed in any way - instead her gaze was filled with out and out lust.

"Well then," Stuart stated and threw himself onto the seat of the sofa. He quickly slid his arms under Lydia's legs, wrapped them around her hips and launched his face straight into her juice-filled trench. She was utterly soaked and Stuart's face was immediately covered by her wetness. He massaged the length of her trench with his entire face before settling his mouth around her throbbing clitoris at the top. Lydia involuntarily thrust her hips up against Stuart's head, her body eager to receive his administrations.

He set to work, circling Lydia's clit with his tongue, lapping at it, then covering it with his mouth and sucking it insistently. He even grazed it with his teeth, certain that she would enjoy the additional sensation, rough though it was - he was pleased to feel her push herself forward even more as a result. Stuart let go of Lydia's right hip and pushed her leg off the sofa to make more room for himself between her thighs. He slid the first two fingers of his left hand into her cunt and began to massage the soft warm walls inside, searching for the spot, the right spot to send her crazy. He never took his mouth off her clit, continuing to lick and lap at it unrelentingly, sensing that Lydia's orgasm was approaching.

Tiny breathy gasps escaped from between her lips. Stuart looked up to see Lydia writhing on the sofa, pulling against her bindings, her breasts jiggling with every jerking movement. He kept on, massaging her g-spot, sucking her clit, intending to take her to the edge and push her right over it. Lydia pressed her pelvis to Stuart's head and arched her back in ecstasy as she let out an incredibly long and loud shriek, her body erupting into uncontrollable shudders. Stuart persisted with his sucking and massaging, knowing the waves had not completely passed, sensing that Lydia had more to give, and he wanted it from her, wanted to see her totally lost as a result.

Finally Lydia's shrieks subsided to sighs and she relaxed her body back onto the sofa. Stuart slid his fingers out of her still throbbing cunt and took his lips off her clit. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked up at Lydia's face. Her hair was messed up and stuck all over her face. Her chest was still heaving, her nipples dark pink, erect and pointing skywards. Stuart raised himself to his knees and leaned forward over Lydia, brushing the hair away from her beautiful face to gaze directly into her eyes. Her pupils were dark and dilated - she was still aroused. Good, Stuart thought. He was ready to fuck her. Stuart leaned forward and planted a sweet succulent kiss on Lydia's cheekbone.

"Very nice," he said softly. "You look so beautiful when you come."

"And you look beautiful with your head buried between my legs," Lydia smartly replied.

"I'll see you come again very soon," Stuart said, raising himself from the sofa and standing up. He kicked his boots off then unzipped his leather pants, pushed them down over his hips and grabbed the hems of each leg in turn to remove them completely.

Lydia looked over at Stuart standing completely naked by the side of the sofa. She had never seen him totally nude and felt desire rising in her again as she traced the bulging lines of his muscular form with her hungry eyes. His cock was standing at the ready, long, thick and threatening. She couldn't help it - her hips twitched in anticipation, and she knew Stuart had noticed.

"You will have it," Stuart said smugly. He gripped his cock at the base and ran his hand loosely up the length of it. He stepped over to the sofa again, positioning himself by Lydia's shoulder. His cock was dripping with pre-cum, which Stuart caught up with his left hand and flicked away into oblivion. Stuart placed the purple head of his penis against Lydia's already parted lips. With only a slight movement, he pushed it forwards and into her mouth, so warm, so wet, so ready to accommodate.

Lydia clamped her lips around the shaft and worked her tongue along it as Stuart swayed back and forth, sliding his cock in and out of her mouth. Her breathing became heavy, laboured, as she struggled for air. Stuart dragged his cock back out of Lydia's throat and paused when the glans sat just behind her teeth.

"Suck," Stuart demanded, and Lydia did so eagerly. She tightened her lips to grip the precious member, shielding it from the sharp edge of her teeth, tantalising the hole at the end with the tip of her tongue. Stuart looked down at Lydia's face; he enjoyed seeing his cock in her mouth. He let her suck for a few moments more, then stroked her face, indicating she should stop. She opened her mouth ever so slightly, and he slipped his cock out.

Stuart kneeled on the sofa between Lydia's legs and gazed down at the opening to her cunt. He grabbed his cock and rubbed it in the juices that overflowed there, enjoying the warmth and wetness. Positioning his cock against her hole, Stuart leaned forward and slid into Lydia's cunt as slowly as possible. With one leg bound to the back of the sofa and the other draped over the side, Lydia's body was entirely open to Stuart. When he had pushed his cock all the way into her cunt he stopped.

"Tell me what you want," Stuart said to Lydia.

"I want your cock," she said back, clenching his member with her pelvic floor muscles.

"Is that all you want?" Stuart enquired.

"No. I want you to fuck me with your cock," Lydia replied.

"How hard should I fuck you, Lydia?" Stuart said, teasing her.

"Hard. Very fucking hard. I want you to fuck my brains out!" Lydia shouted.

"Then prepare to be fucked," Stuart retorted, drawing his cock out of her cunt and immediately slamming it back in.

Stuart set to hammering his cock into Lydia's juicy cunt at a ferocious pace, noting how her tits jiggled every time he did. Back he drew it, along the shaft; forwards he thrust it, down to the base. Lydia moaned with every jamming, loud and lasciviously, so Stuart, never missing a beat, leaned forward and clamped his hand around her throat.

"Quiet," he said flatly and heard Lydia's breath turn from moans to rasping. Each time Stuart felt his orgasm approaching, he paused, released his strangle hold on Lydia to allow her to breathe, then started up again, thrusting, pumping, hammering her hard. Her cunt was overflowing with her own clear juices now smeared all over Stuart's groin and thighs. Her brow was wrinkled in the middle, her mouth was open in a perfect 'o' shape as she struggled for air, her eyes were fixed intently on Stuart's face.


But on he went, pausing, then hammering, pausing, then jamming, his cock seemingly becoming harder with each new thrust. Lydia's cunt felt good to him - he enjoyed shoving the full length of his cock into her, feeling the soft walls within contract around the shaft as he did. He began to lose himself in the sensation, leaning harder against Lydia's throat, wanting to deprive her of air to make her orgasm that much more powerful.

Suddenly, Lydia's cunt contracted tightly around his cock and her body began to shake and shudder under his weight. Stuart took his hand away from Lydia's throat and focused his attention entirely on his own approaching orgasm, vaguely noting that Lydia was gasping for air through her open mouth. Stuart quickened his pace, listening as the moisture between Lydia's legs made a slopping sound in time with his own short sharp breaths. Stuart was covered in sweat, yet more broke out on his brow as finally, with one almighty thrust, his orgasm erupted in Lydia's hot cunt. Stuart froze, his thighs pressed against Lydia's thighs as waves of ecstasy washed over his body; every muscle was tensed, blood rushed through his veins at a thousand miles a second. Stuart was convinced time stood still - momentarily.

Stuart relaxed his shoulders and opened his eyes as his orgasm subsided and he came back down to earth. His cock still buried in Lydia's cunt, he leaned forward over her silky white body and rested his torso along hers.

"Fucking amazing," Lydia said looking up into Stuart's eyes.

"Hmm?" Stuart said, still temporarily lost in the afterglow.

"You," Lydia said. "You're fucking amazing."

Stuart took a deep jagged breath. He placed his lips gently against Lydia's right ear.

"And you," Stuart whispered conspiratorially, "have a cunt that I could learn to worship." 



Submitting To Stuart Ch. 08



Stuart returned to the dungeon in his basement after he had seen Lydia and her husband-slave, Thomas, out the door and off for the night.

The evening's entertainment had been a long one, but he had enjoyed every moment thoroughly. Assisting Lydia to further her slave's training was indeed a pleasure, as was having Lydia offer herself to him. He had enjoyed restraining her and fucking her - she was every bit as sensational as he'd always expected her to be.

But now he wanted to be alone with Sasha, his own little slave, whom he'd left chained in a cage some time ago. As he walked down the stairs, his black satin robe trailing behind him, he glanced over to the cage and saw that Sasha's eyes were closed. He did not doubt that she was asleep. But she had yet to service him that night - she must be woken up. Stuart took the key to the cage from the pocket of his leather pants, which were lying on the floor where he'd kicked them off in order to fuck Lydia. He walked over to the cage in the far corner of the room, inserted the key into the padlock hanging on the latch and clicked the link open. Sasha was well trained - she flicked her eyes open immediately but did not sit upright. Doing so would have reefed the soft skin on her neck against the silver collar he had fastened there then chained to a hook on the floor at the side of the cage. Sasha awaited her Master.

"Good pet," Stuart said soothingly. "It's been a long night," he commented as he swung the cage door open and bent in to kiss Sasha on the forehead. Stuart grasped the snap that connected the chain leash to Sasha's collar and unclasped it from the D-ring. He gathered Sasha up in his arms then lifted her out of the cage and carried her over to the dresser on the other side of the room. Sasha wrapped her arms around Stuart's neck as she was carried and rested her head sweetly on his shoulder. She was thrilled to finally be released from the cage.

"Stand up," Stuart instructed, placing Sasha down on her feet. She took a moment to find her balance on her spike heels. "Good girl," Stuart commented. He opened a drawer in the dresser and took out a pair of fur-lined leather wrist cuffs. He buckled one around each of Sasha's wrists then turned her to face the dresser. "Bend forward," Stuart whispered conspiratorially in her ear. She did so, placing her hands on the top of the dresser. Stuart connected each cuff with a double-ended snap to metal rings bolted onto the back of the dresser. "Very nice," he said in a low voice.

Stuart took several steps back to admire the visage of his slave, bound to the dresser. Sasha's long blonde hair hung forward over her shoulders, partially obscuring her face. Through its tendrils he could see the white flesh of her breasts as they dangled freely above the white satin half corset she still wore about her cinched-in waist. Stuart walked around to stand directly behind Sasha - she had automatically assumed he wanted her feet spread, and while her arse was jutting out nicely towards him, it did not put her cunt well enough on display for his liking. Her arse-cheeks were spread, but only subtly. He wanted to be able to get at her more easily than that.

Stuart opened a drawer in the dresser low on the right hand side and took out a leather ankle cuff with a twelve inch silver chain swinging from one end of it. He closed the door, then bent to fasten the cuff around the girl's left ankle, ensuring it was snug but did not cut off the circulation. Stuart bent Sasha's left knee, then lifted her leg like a prized pony. Gripping her by the ankle, he forced her to bend her leg high enough to place her stilettoed foot on the top of the dresser. Stuart grabbed the chain, slid his hand down it to the snap at the end, then connected the snap to the cuff around Sasha's left wrist, leaving Sasha's cunt gaping wide open and entirely on display.

Stuart ran his open palm down the underside of Sasha's bent leg. When he reached the curve under her buttock he paused.

"So delicious," he said close to Sasha's ear. He took his hand off her warm flesh and bent to his knees to inspect the exposed pink skin between the girl's legs. He had positioned her well - there was nothing she could hide from him, bound as she was. The folds of her outer pussy lips were pink, glistening with moisture, still aggravated from having been beaten with a wooden spoon, still exhibiting friction burns from the excessive and unauthorised self-pleasure she had engaged in alone earlier that day. Stuart ran the tip of his index finger from Sasha's puckered arsehole, along her wet trench, past her dripping snatch and to her swollen clitoris. He noted with approval that she moaned at his touch, but neither leaned in to accentuate it or drew away to reduce it.

A tiny droplet of pearlescent moisture appeared at the opening of Sasha's cunt. Stuart extended his tongue and reached up to collect it - he did not want it to drip onto the floor and go to waste. Using the very tip of his tongue, he lifted the precious drop away from the hot delicate skin then drew his tongue back into his mouth, and sucked away his slave's scent.

Stuart stood abruptly and flung his robe off and onto the floor. He was completely naked, his cock already standing to attention, the purple head primed for action, pre-cum already oozing from it's very tip. He placed his hands on Sasha's hips and stepped up close, pressing his thighs against her buttocks, sliding the full length of his turgid penis along her wet trench. Stuart leaned forward, sliding his hands from Sasha's hips around to her hairless mons and stroked the soft skin there. He found the hem of her corset and grasped its edges, forcing it towards the centre to loosen the metal loops from around the hooks, freeing each one in turn. Finally, he felt the pressure on the corset relax; he drew it out from between his belly and his slave's back and cast it aside as he pressed his warm skin against hers.

"Ah, sweet slut," Stuart whispered into Sasha's left ear. She leaned her head towards his as he drew her earlobe into his mouth and tickled the soft flesh with his tongue. He slid his hands over her flat belly and then dragged them upwards until he found the curve of the under side of her breasts. He cupped each in his hand and squeezed them gently, rubbing his thighs against her buttocks, sliding his cock along her trench. "This is the time I enjoy you most," he continued. "When you have me served well, and when you have been beaten into the most servile submission. Have you any thoughts of bad behaviour now?" he asked.

"No Master," Sasha breathed. She longed to writhe against Stuart's athletic form, but could only respond to his caresses when he pushed himself up against her. Her wrists were bound tightly, and her leg was immovable. 

"Can I expect a repeat performance of that disobedience?" Stuart softly enquired as he slide his hot torso up her back.

"No, Master," Sasha sighed again, attempting in vain to rub her soaked labia along the length of Stuart's cock, still poised between her legs.

"Good girl," Stuart replied. He dragged her hair away from her face, back over her left shoulder and draped it over her right shoulder. Sasha turned her face to meet Stuart's and he immediately locked his lips onto hers, forcing them apart and slipping his tongue between her teeth to meet with her own tongue. His hands slid from around her breasts out to the pink nipples, hard, hot, erect and begging for attention. He pinched each between his thumb and forefinger then rolled the sensitive flesh as Sasha moaned directly into his open mouth.

Stuart pushed his hips back and forth, sliding his cock along Sasha's wetness - she was utterly dripping, her cunt juices overflowing. Stuart reached down, grasped his cock, positioned its purple head against his slave's hole, then thrust its full length deep within her cunt. Sasha broke her mouth away from Stuart's to moan loudly.

"That's it, little slave," Stuart said softly in the girl's left ear. "Feel my cock in your cunt," he whispered as he slowly drew his cock out of her soaking snatch, then suddenly thrust it in again. Sasha lurched forward from the force of his thrust so Stuart placed both of his hands on her hips and held her steady as his slowly began to pump his cock in and out of her cunt.

Stuart kept Sasha's body firmly locked against his own, his chin grinding into her left shoulder, her head leaning back against his chest, her left leg straining against the chain that bound it to her left wrist, her wrists themselves dragging and releasing within the fur-lined cuffs.

"You served me well tonight, little slut," Stuart moaned in the girl's left ear, "but you know I never consider your service complete until I have seen you fully fucked."

"Mmm, yes Master" Sasha groaned as Stuart jammed his cock deep into her cunt over and over again.

"You are mine to do with as I please, isn't that right little slut," Stuart continued.

"Yes Master," Sasha breathed in agreement.

"And you'll fuck who I say you'll fuck, won't you?" Stuart questioned, grinding his hips against Sasha's buttocks, feeling the perspiration that had begun to gather there, their bodies colliding and his penetrated her with his cock.

"Yes Master," Sasha replied again.

"But above all else, your duty is to fuck me, is it not?" Stuart demanded.

"Yes Master," Sasha sighed, her mouth forming a delicate 'o' as she dropped it open and began to breathe in time with Stuart's thrusts.

Stuart bent his head forward and clamped his teeth onto the skin at Sasha's shoulder, biting down hard as he continued to hammer her with his cock, his rhythm steady, his strokes long and deep, his own breath deepening as his pleasure increased. Stuart slid his right hand from Sasha's hip down over her mons to her gaping trench and searched the soaked flesh there to find her throbbing clitoris, the surrounding labia extended, the hood stretched back, her clit itself swollen, engorged, begging for attention. He placed his index and middle finger over the pink bud and applied pressure while still allowing Sasha's clit to slide up and down in time with the rhythm of his thrusts.

"Tell me you adore me, little slave," Stuart whispered in Sasha's left ear.

"Ah..." Sasha moaned, "Oh, I do, Master. I absolutely adore you!"

"Good girl," Stuart praised Sasha. He took his fingers away from her clitoris, placed his hands on her hips, leaned back and away from her body, then gazed down at his cock as he watched it slide in and out of her cunt, covered in her bodily fluids, absolutely engorged with blood and begging for its own released. He quickened his pace, pumping with abandon at his bound slave, closing his mouth and forcing himself to drag long breaths in and out of his nostrils. Sasha shrieked every time he slammed his cock into her now, and the sound of her voice only drove him on, racing towards his own orgasm. His cock was burning, his balls had tightened, but he kept on pumping, knowing his approaching release would be dynamic - the best of the evening thus far.

Sasha's shrieking had dwindled to whimpers and he knew the girl was close to exhaustion, yet he pushed on. She was his slave, and her purpose was to serve his pleasure - and his pleasure was indeed approaching at a romping pace. On Stuart went, jamming his cock in and out of Sasha's snatch. Suddenly he felt the soft hot walls inside her cunt contract and was surprised to see her body erupt into uncontrollable shuddering. The increased pressure on his cock caused his own approaching orgasm to tip over the edge and with one final thrust Stuart slammed his body against Sasha's and unleashed his hot cum deep within her cunt.

Stuart wrapped his arms tightly around Sasha's waist and pressed his wet body against hers. Her breathing was heavy and Stuart slowed his to expand and contract in time with hers.

"Ah, my little slave," Stuart said softly when he finally caught his breath. "You may test my tolerance at times, but then, you do so please me."

"Thank you, Master," Sasha replied quietly. Still bound to the dresser, she could do nothing but enjoy Stuart's embrace, his arms holding her close, his cock still occupying her cunt, she was reminded again, that his pleasure was always her pleasure.



Submitting To Stuart Ch. 09



Stuart gripped his slave, Sasha, tightly around the waist. He buried his face in her long blonde hair, nuzzling the back of her delicious neck.

Sasha couldn't move - she was still bound by the wrists to the back of the dresser, her left leg bent to her chest, her foot placed on the top of the dresser, her ankle fastened to her left wrist. Stuart felt Sasha slump. Her right leg was trembling as her knee buckled, causing her to lean her hips against the edge of the dresser.

"Enough, my pet," Stuart said softly to her. "You've served me well and now it's time for a reward."

"Thank you Master," Sasha whispered softly. Her eyes were hooded, her body drooped with fatigue.

Stuart quickly unclasped the snap on the chain that held her ankle in place. He lifted Sasha's stilettoed foot off the dresser and lowered it back to the floor, groans of pain escaping her lips as she stretched her leg and straightened it again. Stuart opened one of the drawers in the dresser and took out a bottle of scented oil. He poured a pool of it into the palm of his hand then began to massage the backs of his slave's thighs, feeling the knotted muscles within, pressing with his fingers and thumbs to relieve the spasms and bring the circulation back. Sasha bent forward over the dresser, leaning on her elbows, pushing her buttocks out towards Stuart. He glanced up from where he knelt and noted her cunt was glistening wet again. He smiled affectionately. She was so responsive to his touch.

Stuart rose, leaned over the dresser and unbuckled the fur-lined cuff around Sasha's left wrist, then her right, leaving the cuffs themselves attached to the D-rings bolted to the back of the dresser. He grasped Sasha's wrists in his large hands, drew her arms across her own waist as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in tight to his chest.

"You have so pleased me tonight," he said in a low soft voice. Sasha nestled her head under Stuart's chin against his chest and paused to enjoy her Master's embrace.

"It was my pleasure, Master," she said submissively. Stuart held her for a moment longer, savouring her sweet scent, enjoying the feel of her lithe body against his own taut form.

"Come," he said finally. Stuart released Sasha from his embrace, then took her by the hand and led her up the stairs and out of the basement.

Stuart's home was vast, decorated in a minimalist style. He was actually the director of an architectural firm. His architects had designed the house to his specifications - he had wanted to create a domestic environment that was calm, simple and reflected his own strong sense of style, without it being busy, cluttered or excessive. He had chosen shiny white surfaces mixed with chocolate wood grain furniture. The soft furnishings featured natural fibres, reds, browns and oranges as colour flourishes. Sasha loved being in Stuart's home. It was surreal to her in both appearance and entertainment. Although when she was present, she was the actual entertainment.

Stuart led Sasha along the black marble tiled floor, down the white corridor into his bedroom. It was more a modern boudoir than a bedroom - a large open space, the main feature of which was Stuart's king sized bed. The floor was carpeted with coya matting, and layered with lush chocolate brown rugs. The bathroom led off to one side of the room - it was outfitted in sleek white marble with shiny silver fittings. A large bathtub in the corner of the room was Stuart's favourite place to relax.

He walked Sasha into the bathroom and sat her down on a heavy plastic red stool. She watched as he turned the taps on and began to fill the bath with steaming hot water. He stood with his back to her as he opened the mirrored cabinet and extracted bottles of oil, a foot brush, a sponge and hair clips. Sasha's eyes feasted on his naked form - his skin warm and brown, his buttocks firm, peachy and round, his shoulders incredibly muscular, forming a perfect triangle shape that tapered off to his trim waist. He was a fine specimen. Sasha felt honoured to have been accepted as Stuart’s slave.

Stuart placed the oils, brush and sponge by the side of the bath then turned with the hair clips in his hands and walked over to where Sasha waited. He scraped her hair away from her face, over her shoulders and gathered it into a tail at the base of her neck. Then he began to twist her hair around into a sausage until it naturally curled up on itself in a makeshift French knot along the back of her head. Stuart strategically placed the hair clips along the length of the knot, fastening Sasha's hair in place, leaving the soft skin on the back of her neck exposed. He rested his hands on her shoulders and bent to suck at the nape of her neck, enjoying the sound of his slave drawing a long luxurious breath in through her nostrils as he did so.

Glancing over at the tub, Stuart noted the water level was rising. He left Sasha to tend to the oils, pouring a measure of each into the water, enjoying the rising scents as they mixed together in the hot water and filled the air with the fragrance of essential orange oil and lotus flower buds. Stuart added a dash of vanilla to complete the mix - he wanted his slave to smell almost good enough to eat. He turned the taps off.

"Come," Stuart said to Sasha, standing up straight, holding his hand out to her. She rose from where she was seated and walked over to Stuart, placing her hand in his, gazing up at him in complete adoration. "Step in," he said, and continued to hold her hand, steadying her while she tested the water with the big toe of her right foot and noting with approval, the realisation on her face that the water was neither hot nor cold, but the exact perfect temperature. Sasha emersed her foot in the water, then stepped her other foot in and turned to face her Master.

"Go on," Stuart said, encouraging Sasha to sit. He stepped in behind her as she did, lowering himself into the steaming water, enjoying the feeling of the soft oils as they flowed around his body and connected with his skin. Sasha seated herself in front of Stuart so he pulled her back between his legs, against his chest as he reclined against the side of the tub. He looked down the length of Sasha's body, all of it emersed in the water except her perfect breasts, which rose above the surface like twin islands in the ocean. Her nipples kissed the cold air, and were fully erect as a result. Stuart reached around with his hands and pinched them with his fingers, noting Sasha flinched ever so slightly. Lydia had given Sasha's nipples a good whipping earlier that night, so it was no surprise that they were a little sensitive.

Stuart cradled Sasha against his chest, enjoying the feeling of her form as it floated easily in the warm water. He tilted his head back against the side of the tub for a moment and enjoyed the subtle intimacy he rarely chose to share with a sub. Finally, he decided it was time to move on.

"Sit forward," Stuart said quietly in Sasha's ear. She had been dozing against his chest, he was sure of it. She slowly opened her eyes and murmured something as she sat up, the water rushing away from her chest. Stuart sat up and took the sponge from the side of the bath and dipped it in the water. He dragged it up the length of Sasha's spine, then squeezed the water out of it so that it flowed down her back.

"Thank you Master," Sasha said quietly, obviously enjoying the attention.

"Good girl," Stuart replied. He wanted her to know her appreciation met with his approval. Stuart continued to scrub at Sasha's back until her skin began to turn light pink. He grabbed her by the hips and dragged her back closer to him between his legs, his erect penis resting against the bottom of her spine. He leaned forward and brushed the sponge over Sasha's tight belly then up and around the fullness of her breasts. She let her legs float apart and Stuart stroked the soft skin of her inner thighs with his left hand, continuing with the sponge as he did. Sasha's head dropped forward and her eyes slowly closed. She was fatigued beyond belief. Stuart decided it was time he woke her up.

He collected a small coarse haired foot brush from the side of the bath and reached around to push his fingers in between the outer lips of Sasha's snatch, locating her clitoris, nestled snugly at the top of her immersed trench. He stretched the lips open with his index and middle finger and watched Sasha wake up again as he pressed the coarse brush against her clit.

"That's my girl," Stuart said softly, watching as his slave wound her arms around his thighs to lock herself against him in the water. Stuart dragged the brush against Sasha's clit in downward strokes, keeping the pressure light, knowing the sensitive nerve endings were already overstimulated and probably very nearly sore to the touch. Sasha drew in a deep breath so Stuart paused, held the round brush directly on the girl's clit then pushed the tips of the bristles into the flesh increasing the pressure, watching for a reaction. None came so he began to swirl the brush in circular motions, scraping the soft skin, tantalising, teasing, looking for a response.

"Mmm," Sasha finally moaned, and Stuart knew he had found the right measure of pressure. He continued the swirling strokes, enjoying his slave as she began to moan more loudly and squirm in the water, whether it was in discomfort or pleasure, he knew not and nor did he care - he wanted her awake and aroused simply because he so desired it. Sasha's moans changed to gasps and finally Stuart decided it was time to stop.

"Not again tonight, my sweet," he said. "One more and you will pass out in my arms." The girl's body slumped against his chest. Stuart put the brush down, grasped Sasha's hips, pivoted her in the water and turned her over so that she faced him, her breasts now pressed against his chest. He dragged her up out of the water until her face was level with his. His hands gripped both her buttocks gently as he gazed in her weary eyes. Stuart leaned forward, placed his lips firmly against Sasha's then drove them apart, allowing her to push her tongue into his mouth where his own lay in wait. He kissed his slave passionately, the greatest reward, he considered, for a night of excellent service.

Right then Stuart noticed the goose bumps that had appeared on her back.

"Come," he said, squeezing Sasha's buttocks. "Time to get out." Sasha bent her knees between Stuart's legs and kneeled back on her haunches in the water, which had cooled to luke warm. Stuart stood up, water cascading down his body. He offered Sasha his hands to help her up. Stuart stepped out of the bath then turned and lifted Sasha out after him. Her body was covered in goose bumps, and she began to shiver, her breasts quivering slightly as she did so. Stuart took a white cotton robe hanging on a hook on the wall and held it out to Sasha. She put her arms into the sleeves then wrapped the warm fabric around her body and turned back to face her Master. Stuart put his own robe on, then took Sasha by the hand and led her out of the bathroom and towards the bed.

Stuart pulled back the covers on the bed then turned to Sasha.

"Are you quite dry, my pet?" he questioned.

"Yes Master," she obediently replied. Stuart took the robe from Sasha and placed it over the back of a chair.

"On the bed then," Stuart said. Sasha did as she was asked. It was always the same, Stuart’s bedtime routine. He bent by the corner at the bottom of the bed and dragged out a long fine silver chain that was looped around the leg. At its end was a delicate silver ankle cuff. He flipped it open, positioned it around Sasha's left ankle then snapped the lock shut. Stuart then removed his own robe and draped it on the chair over Sasha's. Sasha lifted her feet off the floor and slid her legs in between the cool cotton sheets. Stuart walked around to the other side of the bed and slid in next to Sasha.

He draped his arm around her waist and gently pushed her down against the pillows, drawing the covers over the both of them. Sasha turned on her right side, the chain about her leg sliding out from between the sheets, its slack resting on the floor. She felt Stuart press his rock hard cock up against her back as he ran his hand down the crevice between her buttocks. He crooked her left leg to expose the soft pink flesh between her legs. Grasping his cock with his left hand, he dragged it up and down her wet trench then settled the head of it against the opening to her cunt. Sasha drew a sharp breath in as he pushed his cock into her warm wet cunt. He returned his arm to her waist, encircling it tightly, pressing his chest up against her back. Stuart released a long sigh of satisfaction.

Outside the first rays of sunshine began to pierce the dark heavy clouds as dawn began to break. But the sun would not disturb Stuart, asleep with his exhausted slave locked against his body. He had pulled down the blinds and drawn the heavy white cotton drill curtains. Oblivious to the new day dawning, he drifted off into a long peaceful sleep.