Kinky Night For Master and Pet

I had planned for this night so carefully in the past month, going to various stores -- lingerie stores, clothing stores, adult toy stores, even a few visits to the shoe store. We had discussed this fantasy briefly but had always left it up in the air. I was tired of waiting and had been doing some research on the internet, trying to make sure this night was as authentic as possible for both of us. Keeping him guessing, I simply told him to prepare for something special tonight. His smile as he left that morning was dazzling and butterflies had been dancing in my stomach all day.

"What are you doing," he asked. I answered the phone breathlessly, having been at the other end of the house. "Answering your call," I responded. His deep laugh filled me with warmth and unknown to him, the confidence to follow through with my plans. "I just got out of the shower and am here all wet, wrapped in a towel." My words were met with silence. "I will be home soon, cutting out of here a little early. I'll see you in a while." Damn! That cut my time in half!! "Okay," I said, "well see you soon then." I heard his simple yeah as I hung up the phone.

I dropped the towel to the floor in the bedroom, grabbing my stashed bags from under the bed. In the end, for all my shopping I had decided upon a pair of black sheer thigh highs, their tops trimmed in soft lace and a pair of red high heels. Stopping before the mirror, I gazed at my reflection. I had shaven completely and the site of bare skin between the soft lace at the tops of my thighs was definitely eye-catching.

Drying my hair, I added a few curls, teasing it out into softness all around my face, leaving some of my bangs hanging down around my eyes. I added powder to my face, finishing with some dark red lipstick purchased just for this night. Padding back to the bedroom, I examined myself in the mirror once more -- still not what I wanted. Grabbing some pins off of the dresser, I twisted my hair into a knot at the back of my neck, adding some black liner around my eyes. Hmmm, I thought, much better. I smiled broadly to myself, grabbing the last bag, giggling at the clink of metal.

Too theatrical the man in the store had said, but I thought it was perfect! I wrapped the wide piece of black leather around my neck, locking it closed, the large silver ring in front dangling against my skin. Lastly I attached the metal leash I had purchased, letting the chain fall between my breasts. My nipples hardened, tingling almost painfully. I observed myself once more -- feeling an odd sense of detachment for the woman in the mirror. She was me, and yet...she was not. I had worked hard to create this woman staring back at me. It was time to see where she led.

I took one last walk through the house, making sure everything was neat, lighting some candles along the way. Hearing the hum of his car in the drive, I quickly made my way to the front of the house, my heart thudding loudly in my ears. Cowardice threatened to overwhelm me. My hands shook slightly as I sat back on my heels on the floor, legs spread wide apart, placing the chain carefully between my breasts, and leaving the end to trail across the floor between my thighs. Placing my palms on my thighs, I lowered my head, quickly smothering my smile as I heard his key in the lock. The temptation to look up and see his expression was overwhelming! I kept my head lowered...staring at his shoes as his steps brought him closer.

The silence was shattering my nerves. I took a deep but quiet breath, my naked breasts swaying slightly, and then gasped softly in shock as he turned and walked away from me. My mind was racing...how could he simply just walk away? I started to lift my head, opening my mouth to speak. No, I thought, quickly shutting my mouth once more, if I spoke I would break the scene entirely. All I could do; was sit and wait. He disappeared around the corner. I lifted my head, confused and irritable. This was not what I had expected. Sheer will kept me where I was.

He returned long minutes later. His voice was soft, yet carried a harsh tone. "My slave, are you?" I lifted my head. "Do not raise your eyes to me!" he ordered quickly. I admit to physically jumping at his tone, unexpected in its fierceness. Second thoughts began to race through my head...perhaps I had bitten off more than I could chew here...the dangerous thing about fantasies -- it does not always lead two in the same direction. We were usually so careful to discuss them, how we wanted them to play out, detailing our desires and expectations.

This time I had left much to his own interpretation, wanting that to be part of my fantasy as well, wanting the excitement of the unknown, to follow his lead. Now I began to tremble a bit as a small amount of true fear hit me. I knew he would never hurt me but suddenly that line of trust was a little blurry to me. "Yes, Sir," I said, my voice a whisper. I pressed my fingers into my thighs to keep still. Arousal raged through me along with my fear. I had wanted this for so long, to be completely under his control, my own desires forcibly pushed into the background while his took center stage -- giving up my body, mind, and spirit to him. I searched hard for a feeling of shame within me and there was none. My fear of the unknown, of HIS unknown was making my stomach clench. The butterflies were threatening to break free!

I realized many moments had passed in oblivion of his presence as I let out a deep shaky breath. "Welcome back," he said. I grinned down at the floor. He knew me so well, knew I had just "left him" as my thoughts had raced.

"Thank you, Sir," I responded cheekily, trying to hide the smile from my voice. "That will only happen once, understood?" I knew exactly what he meant. His greatest source of frustration with me was my frequent withdrawals into my self and my thoughts. He teased me often that I never had to physically leave him to escape as I disappeared quite well in his presence.

"Now, I have to decide what to do with you. What does a man do with a vision such as you?" I knew he was not really asking me and wisely kept silent. He bent down, grabbing hold of the leash placed between my breasts, tugging slightly. "Come," he said. I began to rise. A harsh hand on my head pushed me back to my knees. "Not that way! You will follow on your hands and knees, like a good slave should." I obeyed, keeping my pace slow and behind his long strides, the leash stretched taught between us. He jerked on it once in impatience and I quickened my pace, still careful to remain behind him. My pulse quickened even more as I realized he was enjoying this as much as I, his intention to draw our scene out as long as possible. We ended in the kitchen, filled with the enticing scent of cinnamon and vanilla from the simmering potpourri pot on the counter. Opening the refrigerator, he took out the leftover fruit salad from the night before. "This will do for my hunger, I think, for now." he said.

Once more, he entered the dining room, sitting down in one of the thickly padded chairs. I blinked in confusion, wondering where I should go, what I should do. I dared not rise and sit in the chair next to him without permission so I settled myself back onto my heels, my head bowed. He placed the bowl of wet sticky fruit at my feet. "You will feed me," he ordered. My hand shook as I reached in, grabbing a piece of fruit, letting it dangle from my fingers for a moment as the juice dribbled back into the bowl. I rose to my knees, unable to reach him any other way.

My breath hissed out from between my teeth as some of the cold juice dribbled down my thigh. Lifting my hand to his mouth, he took the fruit from my fingers with his teeth, lightly grazing their tips with his tongue. I continued to feed him, hours seeming to pass, the heat in my body, the arousal between my legs rising as with each piece his tongue stroked my sticky fingertips. "Down," he said, "I am done."

I settled back on my heels quickly as he reached down, picking up the bowl and placing it on the table. Feeling his eyes upon me, I waited patiently. "Arch your neck back," he said. I obeyed quickly, my eyes looking upon the ceiling. Still not enough, his hand pushed my head further back, forcing me to stretch my arms out behind me for balance. I shivered as I felt a piece of the chilled fruit run down my neck traveling further down to my nipples. His hand grabbed the leash near the ring on the collar, preventing my retreat as instinctively I tried to move away. I moaned deeply as the fruit traveled down my stomach, eventually landing between my spread legs, his fingers guiding it down along the edges of my pussy and then back up over the tops of my thighs, leaving a glistening trail of fruit juice along my body.

He lifted the piece of melon to my lips and I stuck my tongue out, drawing it further into my mouth. We had played this game before but never quite in this way. It had always been a mutual game of eroticism in the past. There was no soft laughter between us this time, no teasing words exchanged. The silence was slowly driving me crazy and yet I knew I dare not speak as I swallowed carefully, the fruit seeming to stick in my throat. 

I was ready to beg for an appearance of his usual self, even for just a moment to reassure me.  He left me sitting that way for long moments, my arms stretched behind me, my neck arched way back.  The palms of my hands and wrists were beginning to tingle. 

His hand suddenly jerked on the chain, forcing my head down and my body forward.  I moaned aloud at the sting of circulation returning to my hands.  "I am in need of a shower," he said.  "I think my slave shall wash me."  He rose quickly, and without thinking, I rose to my knees as well.  His touch was less than gentle this time.  "I have given you one warning.  I will not give you another," he said as his hand pushed me back down.

"The next time you will feel my displeasure taken out on that backside of yours.  Understood?  You will follow on your hands and knees."  I nodded quickly.  "Please forgive your slave, Master," I whispered, "She was not thinking."  My answer seemed to anger him.  "Not thinking," he repeated disgust clear in his voice.  "It would have been wiser to keep quiet than to admit this to me!  I am your only thought, your only focus -- Me, My pleasure, serving my needs.  A slave should not forget something so basic!" 

I trembled slightly at the anger in his voice.  "Yes, Master, I am sorry," I whispered once more.  There was a long pause; the tension in the air between us was unbelievable.  "I think I shall punish you later for your forgetfulness.  First you will see to my shower."  He grasped the leash between my breasts, tugging impatiently.  I followed behind him as he'd ordered. 

Dropping the leash to the floor, he led me to our bedroom, which I had carefully illuminated with just enough candles.  Stopping at the foot of our bed, he sat down, bidding me without words to sit at his feet.  I settled myself quickly, my head lowered in total submission.  "Undress me," he ordered. 

I began at his feet, untying his laces slowly so as to not risk a knot, then pulling his shoes off, and laying them to the side.  His socks followed.  I bit my lip, pausing in indecision, swallowing hard.  "Master," I said, "May I rise to my knees to remove your shirt?" 

He stared down at me a moment and I began to tremble, afraid I had chosen incorrectly and his displeasure was about to be shown once more.  He had not given me permission to speak.  "Rise," he said, and I released the breath I had been holding.  Every nerve in my body was tingling, so on edge I thought I was going to scream if the sensations did not stop.  My fingers fumbled several times in my attempts to slide the small buttons through their holes, yet somehow I managed to get them all undone, not daring to meet his eyes even once.  I slid the shirt from him, noting the warmth of his skin as the tips of my fingers skimmed over his shoulders.  He rose and I knew without words I was to remove his pants now.  I bit my lip, not sure I could face the inviting sight of his aroused cock before me and not beg to be released from this role I had trapped myself in.

  His hand moved to my face, lifting my gaze evenly with his stomach.  I was being warned and wisely knew it.  Reaching out with hesitant fingers, I undid his belt, button, and zipper.  His pants fell to his feet as I began sliding his briefs down as well, nearly moaning aloud at the sight of his cock, already hard and tempting before me.  Licking my lips unconsciously, I sat back on my heels as my duty was complete. 

"See to My shower, slave," he demanded, "I will be there in a moment."  I did not pause, crawling across the carpeted floor to the bathroom although my curiosity was beyond piqued.  Why did he not follow with me?  How I wanted to look back and find out what those rustling sounds were behind me!  I set the water to warm, and then placed two thick towels on the brass rack, returning to check the water temperature again.  The tiles bit into my knees, my nipples hardening painfully with the cold as I sat back onto my heels next to the tub, my head lowered, awaiting him.  I noted the thick feel of my blood seemingly forcing its way through my veins.  Please hurry, I thought, please please, suddenly feeling small and insecure without him in front of me, realizing as much as I had wanted this fantasy, he had become my anchor in it, my safety as much as my tormentor. 

I was roused from my thoughts by his arrival.  "Place the bench in the tub and turn the shower on," he ordered.  I quickly followed his words, awkwardly trying to drag the stool to the tub while remaining on my knees.  Somehow I succeeded, and he bid me to follow him as he entered the shower.  "Remove your shoes," he said, "but leave your stockings on."  He sat down on the bench as I reached for his favorite scrub brush, massaging the soap thickly into the bristles.  I could feel the pins sliding out of my now drenched hair as the water cascaded over me.  Placing the brush against his chest, I began thoroughly washing his body from neck to fingertips to toes, smiling softly to myself at the sight of him covered in soapy white foam. 

For a moment, I forgot how harsh and cold he had seemed moments before.  Noting his impatient sigh, I quickly rinsed him, and then reached back and shut the water off, careful only to open the shower curtain a bit as I reached for a towel to dry him.  He took the towel from me, wrapping it around his waist as he stood.  "Dry off and go into the bedroom," he said.  I quickly dried myself, my wet stockings now sticking to my legs.  Entering the bedroom, I placed myself at the foot of the bed near his discarded clothes.  I gasped aloud at the sight in the center of our bed, my eyes glued to the spot, suddenly feeling light-headed.  There was no doubt that he had sent me in before him on purpose now.  Arousal flooded my already throbbing pussy. 

"I see you have found my unexpected toy," he said, his tone calm, almost disinterested.  "Y...yes, Master," I stammered.  "I bought this a month ago," he went on, "when you began first speaking of your willingness to submit to me fully."  I could not speak, my chest felt tight as I was barely able to draw breath.  "Are you afraid?" he asked, his voice soft now, gentle.  "A little, Master," I whispered, my voice unfamiliar to my own ears.  He paused as if in indecision and I sensed his detachment as he spoke once more.  I had entrusted myself to him completely, and while I knew even in my fear he would never truly harm me, I also realized he would push my limits as well.

  "Rise," he ordered, "and wrap your arms around the bedpost."  I hesitated, jumping as he raised his voice to me.  "Now!" he said fiercely.  Obeying quickly this time, my whole body shook as I hugged the bedpost, the cold metal of the leash pressed between my breasts and trailing down between my legs.  He came to stand beside me, turning my head to face him, staring down at me intently.  "Do you know what this is?" he questioned.  "Yes, Master," I said, "a riding crop."  I gasped as he trailed it down my back, bringing it to rest between my legs, pressing it inward against my pussy as I moaned, convinced I was going to cum right then. 

"Despite your fear in this moment, you are more aroused than you know what to do with," he said, tormenting me with a slide of the crop deeply against my pussy.  My hips shifted as I arched my back shamelessly.  "Ah, my pet, I think you could cum this way," he whispered, "if I let you."  His words trailed off.  "My slave's punishment needs to be seen to first."  My whole body shuddered at his words as I realized I truly wanted this. 

There had been an uncertainty within me until now, but no longer.  I trembled as he moved to stand behind me, waiting for the first soft slap of the crop against my skin.  Breath hissed past my teeth when it did.  It had not truly brought pain but a delicious sting.  Heat filled me as my pussy began tightening in answer.  The second stroke landed fully against my ass as did the next several, each one stinging a little more than the last.  A fine sheen of sweat had broken out on my skin and I began to feel detached from everything but my own body, drowning in the sensations raging through me.  I moaned grasping the bedpost for balance as the crop landed against the back of my thighs, truly hurting this time.  Losing count of the strikes against my skin as each one became harsher; I absorbed myself in the insistent throbbing muscles of my pussy.  The pain was transferring to pleasure somewhere within me.  Moans filled the room, yet I did not recognize them as my own.

Suddenly he was beside me, his fingers tangling in my hair as he pulled my head back, forcing me to look at him.  It took me long moments to focus.  His eyes were dark with something I had never seen before, his breath slightly labored.  I was intoxicated with the fulfillment of my fantasy, with the pain tingling across my skin, with his presence, our mutual lust.  Even with him as my Master, me but his slave, the presence of lust was tangible between us, wrapping its self around me, filling our room.  My knees were threatening to give way and I could not stop the shivers that were traveling up and down my spine.  The sensitivity of my own skin now was beyond anything I had ever felt -- tingling all over, and burning in the places he had struck me with the riding crop.  I groaned as he moved away and behind me, pressing his naked body fully against my own.  "Master," I gasped, "please..."  My words trailed away as I realized I no longer knew what it was I was even asking for, what could release me. 

Thankfully, he did.  His large hand slipped down between my legs, parting the soaked lips of my pussy, seeking out my clitoris, and caressing it with a whisper soft touch.  My hips shifted violently, the shock of sensation too much too soon.  "Be still," he ordered, leaning down and sinking his teeth into my neck.  I moaned helplessly as his fingertips continued their small circular movement over my clitoris, his other hand moving down my back to my pussy, his fingers entering me hard from behind. 

Trapped between his body and the bed, his hands on me from both ends, I thrust back onto his fingers, shamelessly sending them deeper inside.  My pussy was throbbing, grasping his fingers tighter, yet orgasm remained just out of my reach...and then he used his knowledge of my body against me as he spread his fingers inside me, fluttering them around so there was no place that remained untouched.  I let go of the bedpost, my fingers refusing to hold on anymore, needing to touch him desperately.  "Put them back," he growled into my ear, "I did not tell you to let go!"  His fingers went slack inside me in warning, and quickly I followed his words.  The beginning tingles of orgasm were coursing through me but oddly refused to go further into complete bliss.  "Cum," he whispered in my ear, "now!"  Everything broke free inside me at his command, as if I had simply been awaiting him to grant me this release. 

This first orgasm I felt everywhere at once, every nerve in my body screaming, swelling, and exploding, finally centering in my pussy in a violent rage.  I bit my lip to keep the scream trapped inside, waiting for the sensations to fade as they began to border on pain.  He withdrew his fingers a small distance from my pussy as my hips followed his retreat, frantically trying to capture them once more.  "Ah," he tormented me, "still in need of more?"  Unable to answer, I simply moaned, my head falling back against his shoulder.  Shaking from my orgasm, sweat covering my body, I could not think.  "Master," I whispered, "please!"  The words came naturally.  This was no longer a role I was playing.  The slave had become who I was and only he could set me free. 

My orgasm was slowing by small degrees, his fingers still inside me, the small circles around my clitoris soothing now instead of tormenting.  Light kisses decorated my neck and shoulder as I inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of me, of him, of sex.  His fingers finally slipped from my pussy as he raised them to my face, smearing my lips with the juices from my body.  "Lick My fingers clean, slave," he demanded.  Without thought, I did so, sucking them into my mouth, my tongue licking along his fingers.  I could not even muster a feeling of disgust over this taboo act, it seemed so natural. 

He spun me around suddenly, pressing my back into the bedpost as he ordered me to my knees. Obeying quickly, his hard cock now even with my face, I awaited his next words, already knowing what I was to do.  "Place your hands behind your back," he said, his tone suggesting I dare not disobey him.  My hands behind my back, I leaned slightly forward, wetting my dry lips, anxiously anticipating the press of his cock into my mouth.  I groaned in disappointment as he wrapped his hand around himself instead, his fingertips lightly trailing up and back down the length.  There was nothing I loved more than his cock pressed against the back of my throat, the pleasure I gave him in those moments absolute and yet I could remain detached while I watched him grow frantic moments before he came.  I was in control then with my hands, mouth, and tongue...but not this time.

  Placing my hands behind my back gave him all of the control.  This excited me, reinforcing my role as his slave, a mere instrument for his pleasures.  He grabbed my hair, tilting my head up and back as he rubbed the tip of his cock along my face.  Oh, God, I wanted him in my mouth, could not take much more teasing.  "Open your mouth," he said calmly.  Frustration filled me; how could he seem so in control?!  He slid his cock inside, rubbing it against my tongue with a small rocking of his hips.  Instinctively, I closed my lips, sucking him in.  His hand tapped against the side of my face, not really a slap, more a warning.  "No!" he said, "I have not given you permission to suck my cock yet!"  I let loose quickly, once again opening my mouth wide as he'd ordered moments before.  "Who do you serve?" he demanded.  I could not really speak with his cock against my tongue, my words coming out in muffled sounds.  "You, Master," I whispered quickly.  My words seemed to please him as he moved his hips back, his cock slipping completely from my mouth.  "That is right," he responded, "Me, and Me alone -- your needs, your desires are secondary, and only given wing when I grant them permission to fly free!"  So this was the true lesson, I thought, not my earlier punishment.  "Yes, Master, Your slave understands," I whispered.  "I am pleased, my pretty slave and shall reward you.  Suck me!" he ordered. 

I gasped at the crudity of his words, unused to such directness from him.  His cock glided smoothly past my lips, and I closed my teeth gently around him, letting them scrape softly over the sensitive skin just the way he liked.  Trapping his cock between my tongue and the roof of my mouth, I sucked deeply and strongly, feeling that vein on the underside pulsing against my tongue as he controlled the speed and depth of his thrusts.  My mouth was truly being fucked by him, by his cock, and I loved every moment of it.  The sounds of his breath were becoming more and more ragged, his body tense, and I could see him struggling for control.  I doubled my efforts, stroking up and down with my tongue quicker than his own thrusts, loosening and tightening my lips in a quick rhythm intended to make him cum. 

His breath hissed between his clenched teeth as he grabbed my hair, yanking my head back as he ordered me to look at him.  Lazily, I complied, slowly lifting my eyes to his and shamelessly letting him see my enjoyment.  "Slut," he whispered, "you are enjoying this too much!"  Oddly, his use of the word did not offend me.  I knew how he meant it in that moment and it instead brought me an odd sense of satisfaction.  His own pleasure, his own struggle against his orgasm, his own fight for control had driven that word from him.  Abandoning thought completely, I focused only on him, the taste, and the feel as his cock slid faster and harder into my mouth throbbing, and swelling as his orgasm pushed closer and closer.  I kept my lips pressed tightly together now, not letting up on the pressure around his cock even for a second.  His fist tightened; punishing in my hair, bringing tears to my eyes...and yet, oddly the pain was a reward, his reward to me for delivering this pleasure.  His hand suddenly went slack in my hair, shoving me away from him.  I grasped the bedpost behind me for balance as he stood before me, his cock twitching in an orgasm that was only moments away from breaking loose.  He struggled for breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly as I boldly stared up at him in defiance. 

His punishment was swift as he pulled me up by my hair, forcing me face down onto the bed.  I gasped aloud, my hips pressing helplessly into the mattress as he slapped my ass with his hand.  The sting was too much in light of his earlier treatment with the riding crop.  Losing count of how many times his hand landed against the burning skin of my ass, I began pleading with him to stop, moaning, begging.  "Master," I whispered, true tears beginning to form in my eyes.  And just as suddenly as he had begun, he stopped.  My limits had been pushed; I was near the breaking point and he knew it.  Aching for the comfort of his body, the touch of his hot skin to mine, I clenched my fists into the sheets.  Shivers ran down my spine as his hands began a whisper soft trail at my neck, following the outline of my spine, branching out along my lower back and around my hips. 

"Mmmmmm," he said softly, "your ass is nice and red.  I can feel the heat.  Get up on your knees, slave," he commanded.  I lifted myself onto my hands and knees, my breasts swaying softly, my nipples hard and aching with my own excitement.  My pussy was soaked, the wetness smeared against my inner thighs.  Suddenly feeling oddly humiliated in this position, I tried desperately not to picture him standing at the foot of the bed behind me yet knowing he was gazing at me, at my body openly displayed for him. 

His voice was suddenly cold as he spoke.  "A slave comes to her Master, not the Master to slave.  I am waiting!"  I shifted towards the end of the bed, still on all fours, crawling backwards with the guide of his hands on my hips.  My eyes were closed as I became even more self-conscious.  Thinking he could probably sense my discomfort and was purposely prolonging it, I took a deep calming breath, concentrating on being still and quiet.  His fingers spread the cheeks of my ass obscenely.  Oh God, I thought, this was simply too much!  His hand slid further down, sliding back and forth along the length of my pussy, the muscles inside clenching hard in anticipation of his cock.  He was tormenting me, and the anticipation was stifling.  My hips shifted of their own accord at the next slide down of his hand, trying to capture his fingers inside me, needing something, anything to fill my pussy.  I was on the verge of cumming already; the smallest push was going to send me over.  Somehow I knew this would only gain his displeasure, but my body and mind were working separately.  "Master, I am shamelessly begging!" I moaned, the rolling of my hips adding further truth to my words.  He seized on that immediately, the opportunity to further humiliate me.  "Begging?  And what is my slave begging from her Master?"  "Your cock," I groaned, my voice hoarse even to my own ears, "Your cock, please, Sir!"  "And where does my slave wish my cock to be?" he asked, not willing to give into me on any level. 

I swallowed hard, not sure I could speak the words.  The threat was clear though -- I would receive nothing more than what I was willing to ask, indeed beg for, from him.  "Master," I began, "Your slave is begging for your cock to be buried inside her pussy, for you to fuck her senseless, for you to grant her release!"  I smiled as I heard his small groan behind me.  And then to my great relief, he was there, his cock slipping between the cheeks of my ass.  So close, I thought, so close...please...more...yes.  His cock was wet with my juices as he ground his hips in just the right way, stroking up and down the length of my pussy. 

Suddenly he was there, and shock reeled through my whole body at once as with one deep thrust he was seated to the hilt inside me.  My pussy was nothing short of burning, adjusting to the sudden invasion.  He stilled, and I moaned, feeling the pulse of him within me as my muscles stretched to accommodate him.  I could not ever remember feeling this way before, everything in me so attuned, so sensitive, and hungering so badly for him.  Thinking there was nothing left for him to torture me with, I soon realized differently as he refused to withdraw, simply keeping his cock inside me and lightly rocking his hips against me so his cock shifted and stroked the walls of my pussy. 

Unable to focus on one sensation, orgasm remained just out of reach.  "Reach between your legs," he demanded, "and rub your clitoris."  He had never asked this of me before and I was not sure I could do it!  "It is the only way you will be allowed to cum, slave," he whispered, "by your own hand."  I groaned, tentatively stroking my clitoris with my fingers, arching my back helplessly.  Finding my flesh too sensitive to touch directly, I instead just rubbed up and down along the sides of my clitoris, feeling all the nerves centered there jumping and throbbing, transferring their fury to the inner walls of my pussy as I clenched tighter around his cock.  "Master!" I moaned, the first little shocks of release threatening to break free, spiraling tighter and finally exploding.  "Yes," he said, his breath hissing past his teeth as he slowly withdrew until the barest tip of his cock was left within me, then thrusting forward hard and deep.  A small scream broke free from me as he began giving me what I had begged for moments ago, fucking me furiously, and the sounds of our skin slapping together filling the room. 

It went on forever, his cock slamming into my pussy over and over, seemingly one stroke in and out that never ended, simply joining with the last.  My orgasm had rendered my clitoris impossible to touch and instead my fingers clenched into the sheets, my back arching, my hips grinding back against him as he withdrew.  This was sheer animalistic lust and I was drowning in him, in my orgasm.  The muscles of my pussy squeezed him impossibly tight, and then began to throb, silently begging for his cum to fill me.  "Yes," I groaned, my voice low and guttural, "fuck me...harder!"  His thrusts sent my whole body to shaking, my breasts bouncing, small aftershocks still centered in my pussy as his cock slid in and back out, rubbing along that spot just on the inside. 

He grabbed my hair, tangling the strands in his fingers as he yanked back, his other hand slapping my ass hard.  Oddly I knew it should hurt but in that moment, it only further sent me out into this fast and furious meeting of our bodies.  I could truly feel his cock swelling further inside me, knew his orgasm was only moments away.  "Master!" I moaned loudly, "Yes!  Fill your slave's pussy with Your cum!  Please!"  He groaned behind me followed by another deeper groan, this one much louder.  For a brief moment, he went still inside me, unable to move as the first hot spurt of his cum filled my cunt.  I tightened my muscles purposely, relishing in his moan as he began fucking me once more, his whole body stiffening with pleasure as his orgasm took over every nerve, his cum gushing violently into me, coating the inner walls of my pussy. 

I fell flush to the bed, receiving his body on top of my own as he locked his fingers with mine.  We stayed that way for long moments, our breath returning to normal by slow degrees.  The press of his body atop me was comforting; I never wanted him to move.  "My God," I finally whispered, not knowing what else to say.  He finally shifted to the side, taking me with him and tucking me lovingly against him.  His hand cupped my breast tenderly as his chest pressed into my back. 

"Listen to me now," he said, his tone soft, once again the man I knew and was familiar with.  "Yes?" I whispered back, pressing my head into his shoulder.  "Tonight was beyond anything I could have imagined.  The gift you gave me of yourself, of your complete submission and trust was overwhelming."  I giggled then, unable to help myself.  "Yes, it was," I agreed, "Placing myself in your hands...I can't begin to tell you what that was like, how it felt, to be controlled and..."  My words trailed off as a soft shhhhh caressed my ear.  "But what I want you to understand is, the reverse is true."  I shifted around to look at him then.  "The reverse?" I questioned.  "Yes," he said, "I played your Master tonight.  It gave me great pleasure to do so but you were always in control as well, and I was as much a slave as you.  You are my equal, my partner, my friend, as well as my lover."  I simply nodded, understanding his words and their meaning as he tucked my head into his shoulder.  "I love you," I whispered, a smile on my face as my words were returned and we drifted together into sleep.

The End