****** Shantz Lane by Jade ******
===============================================================================

Shantz Lane


He always came the same way, by bus. Which was strange, because he was always
dressed nicely. Business suits and the like. And he always carried the same
black bag by his side. He looked like he belonged in a Mercedes-Benz instead of
a city bus.

The night he came I watched from my bedroom window, obscured from his view, but
giving me a perfect view of his tall, muscular frame as he descended from the
bus. The bus stop being directly in front of my house, it made me convenient to
get to. He stood as the bus doors slid shut behind him and the bus slowly
pulled away. Taking a moment he appraised my house. Appraising it as he had
often appraised me.

I made my way down the stairs to the front door, and watched as he stepped up
onto my stoop through the frosted glass. He never knocked. We had a silent
understanding that I would always be there when he arrived. I opened the door
for him. He didn't smile or offer any kind of greeting. Again this was our
understanding. We didn't want to know each other. That's the way things had
been for the last six months.

I closed the door, keeping my back towards him. This gave him perfect
opportunity to grab my arms and throw me to the floor. Once there he was able
to take full advantage of my vulnerability. He was on top of me in a second,
pinning my body to the floor, my hands in his above my head. Suddenly his hands
left mine.

"Keep them there," he whispered in my ear.

His warm breath sent a shiver up my spine. He gripped my shirt in both hands. I
was prepared for his tug, but unprepared for the sting as the material of my t-
shirt bit into me. Keeping his grip he gives one final tug and the material
slits with a loud ripping sound. All my t-shirt is now is tatters. One brave
nipple sticks stiffly in the air.

He rips the rest from my torso, flinging it aside in a mad frenzy to free my
breasts. Once I am rid of my shirt he attacks first one nipple then the other.
His mouth sucks crazily as if wanting to draw milk from me.

With his lack of concentration on undressing me, I bring my hands down to my
shorts. I get no further then popping the button, when he bites down on my tit.
I give a small squeal of equal pain and surprise.

"I told you to leave your hands where they were."

One thing about him, that I've learned the hard way, is that he likes total
control, and has various ways of correcting disobedience. Hence the black bag.
From experience, I know what he often carries in there on his visits to me.
Usually it's a cane or paddle. Sometimes, though it is a cat o' nine tails.
Sometimes I get in trouble just to feel the lick of the cat on my back, or the
sting of his paddle or cane.

Most of what I like about him is his want for rough sex.

As if I hadn't moved my hands to begin with, I place them above my head again.
I do this in the hopes that I may please him. But, he shakes his head.

"A little too late for that, isn't it?" He waits as I reluctantly nod. Nodding
himself I watch him get to his feet. "You know the procedure."

And I did. Quite well, in fact. It wasn't that I was bad all the time. I'd just
needed frequent correcting at the start of our relationship. He has specific
ways he wants a girl to please him. And they need to be exact.

Rising, I enter the living room and strip of the shorts I couldn't wait to
remove to feel his touch. Letting the shorts fall from my hips to my feet, I
step out of them to the sofa. Stooping I lower my self over the armrest. This
position is standard when he punishes me.

"Do I need to gag you?"

I shake my head, confident that whatever he has planned I can take with no more
sound then the occasional squeal of pain. I see him nod to himself and he goes
to collect his bag. Anticipation of what sort of punishment I will get lies
just below the surface of my otherwise calm exterior.

He sets his bag on the coffee table directly in front of me. Slowly he draws
back the zipper as if he wants to make me show my eagerness and make me speak
out. I know this is against his rules and forcefully restrain myself. Though I
could have lost that fight if he had chosen to go even slower. He of course
knows this, and purposely torments me by doing it slowly.

Finally, the zipper is open and he pulls the bag open. To my surprise (and
delight), he pulls out his leather cat o' nine. Restraining myself yet again, I
force my face into a neutral expression. Though my delight is surely evident to
him as he steps behind me. Once there he is treated to the view of my soaking
wet cunt. His cunt he once joked. And it truly is his, only he can make it wet
with the slightest touch, and make me cum so intensely that I can barely walk
afterwards.

He plays the end of the handle over my wet cunt lips, smearing the juices all
over my hairless cunt. I moan quietly as the handle parts my lips and brushes
my clit ever so slightly. I wiggle my bottom, trying to press the handle harder
against my clit, but he had already moved away. Even though I want to I don't
dare plead with him.

"Do you need to be fucked, slut?"

I nod slowly, unsure if this is a trick question. I know he likes to try and
draw me into disobeying his orders. He has caught me several times by expertly,
and unexpectedly.

The handle leaves my cunt suddenly. I hear and feel nothing for several
minutes. Then I hear the swish of the tails and electric fire explodes in my
ass. For the next few minutes all I hear and feel is the snap of the tails
against my back and ass. He expertly avoids my sensitive cunt. Prior
punishments had proved this to be too much for me. Since then he has never
tried to include it while punishing me.

The beating finally stops and I hear him undress hastily. Repressing an instant
of total elation which almost made me speak out, I retain my position as he
climbs onto the cushion in front of me.

"Suck it, slut," he says harshly.

Happily I comply with what he wants and draw his cock into my mouth and down my
throat. In my opinion his cock is magic and the most beautiful cock I have ever
seen. It stands a proud ten inches. As well it boasts an even prouder three
inches roundness. Needless to say I struggle to accommodate it.

I begin sucking in earnest, my throat working overtime as i clench and unclench
my muscles. I can feel his cock pulsing against my tongue. Bringing my hand to
my throat I find the lump his cock makes as it rests deep inside me. I gently
squeeze the lump with my fingers. I hear him moan, which is music to my ears. I
love the thought of pleasing him. It gives me pleasure to know that I have
pleased him so well. And when he moans and his breathing becomes heavy I know I
am doing a good job.

Unexpectedly, he grips my head and begins fucking my mouth roughly. I gag but
he continues on relentlessly as I struggle to keep my gorge down. His thrust
are vicious, which excites him, as well as me, even more. It isn't long before
I feel his cock spasm and his delicious, creamy seed sprays down my throat. I
gulp greedily as my hand grips his balls to milk him of his seed.

He withdraws slowly from my mouth. A sticky line of spit and semen extends from
my lips to his cockhead.

"Clean it, bitch."

Always happy to comply, when it comes to sucking or cleaning his cock, I lick
up the last traces of his sticky sperm. Until there is not a drop left I don't
take my tongue from his cock. Which, even after coming, is still hard.

Getting up he returns to my rear and plays the head of his cock up and down my
slippery cunt. He could probably see the slimy lines of my cunt juices as they
flowed down my thighs. I had never been so excited as right then, that I almost
begged him to fuck me.

With one slow thrust he buries his cock all the way into my tight cunt,
stretching me good. He begins fucking me hard, driving me into the cushions and
armrest. He had never fucked me as deep as at that moment, and I knew that I
was his forever. But he stopped and pulled out of me.

"Turn over, I want to see your face as I fuck your slutty cunt."

Quickly I do as he says, wanting him back inside me as soon as possible. I lick
my lips, still tasting his sperm in my mouth. He repositions himself at my
entrance and thrusts viciously, driving his cock right up against my cervix.
This sends another thrill through me. It isn't long before I'm ready to come,
but I know coming before he does would earn me another punishment.

I can tell he's getting close when his pace picks up speed and he grips my ass
in his hands, burying his fingernails in my soft skin.

With a grunt he sends his seed deep into my cunt and I cum as he does so. He
lets me go. The marks from the tails and his fingernails are begin to throb
dully.

I an totally exhausted. As I look up at him I realized it had taken most of his
strength to fuck me. He is slippery with sweat. He pulls out of me slowly,
taking with him a few globs of cum. I hear them drop noisily to the floor.

He picks me up and gently lays me on the couch. From the back of the couch he
pulls a blanket over me and slips a pillow under my head.

He kissed my cheek, and patted my head. he left without saying a word. I fell
asleep several minutes after I heard the bus pull away.

I got his letter three days later. It told me he needed me but not the way he
had been having me. He needed to own me, to call me his own. It also told me a
place and time to meet him.

On the specified date I called a cab and gave the address. I couldn't stop
myself from feeling so nervous that I wanted to turn the cab around and go back
home. When the cab pulled up to a large, and probably expensive house with a
locked gate in front I couldn't move. I stared at the house for a long time. So
long that the driver had gotten impatient.

"Lady is this the place or not?"

I didn't say anything. I paid and slipped out without getting my change. I
walked to the gate and it opened before I could reach it. I had forgotten about
our understanding. Walking slowly up the walk I admired the big house, and then
I spied, sitting in front of the garage, the sleek black Mercedes-Benz I had
imagined he'd own.

Climbing the steps to the porch the door swung open and there he stood. Not in
a business suit, but in a regular pair of black jeans and a black dress shirt.
He was even barefoot. I began to cry then. Not because I had prepared to reject
him, but because I knew I had come home. And he knew it too. We both knew that
I was with somebody I loved and who loved me back.

He made me his by simply slipping a collar around my neck. A collar which was
embossed with his initials. I cried even harder then, thanking him profusely.

Later that evening we made love exhaustively several times, falling into bed
around three the next morning.

The next day I put my little house on Shantz Lane up for sale. He helped me
move my belongings out and put them in storage.

That was five years ago, and I've been with him since. It's like we never left
Shantz Lane and it has been just as good if not better.

I love you, Master.

jadeslave@hotmail.com

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
You may also want to visit:
    * Sexy_Top_100_Stories
    * Erotic_Top_100_Story_Sites