Glorious Morning

When I woke up, my Master was gone. He'd left early. I wasn't sure where he was. He doesn't tell me these things normally. Master's business, is his business, and it is not my place to inquire. He is not an overly secretive man. He doesn't hide things (as far as I know), and I'm certain that if I were to ask him, he would come right out and tell me were he was, and what he was doing. I don't ask, because, as I said, I don't believe it is a slave's place to nag her Master about where he goes, and what he does. I got up, and dressed in my favorite red silks. I like the way the feel swishing around my legs and arms. I like the deep red color, it brings out the reddish tan in my skin.

The phone rang, I knew who it was on the other end. I always know when it is him calling. "Good Morning Master" I said, smiling as I picked up the phone.

"Morning," he said, "You're going to be home for awhile?" He added.

"Don't mind about me, Master, I have plenty of tasks to do. A couple of hours before I'll need to go out".

"K...I'm at the Mansion" he offered.

"Don't let me interrupt you Master," was my response. 

The 'Mansion' is a rather insidious place. Their employees scour the globe for the most beautiful of girls, then take them from wherever they are, and bring them to the Mansion. There ,the girls are forced into prostitution. Sex slaves if you will. Not slaves in the sense that I am a slave. Nor in the sense of what most people think of when thinking of slavery. These are used purely for sex. Their one function, is to fuck and suck whoever, and whatever is put before them. I knew my Master was probably having  good time. He usually did when he visited his friends at the Mansion.

I went about my chores as normal. Windows (gawd I HATE doing windows), floor counters. Regular cleaning and straightening up. I'd been thinking, the whole time I was working, about my Master, getting his funk on with one of the girls at the Mansion. The thought had gotten me quite excited. I could imagine my Master coming home, with his cock smelling of fresh sex, and glazed with the girl's juices. I have to admit, to taking  few minutes every now and then during my chores, to touch myself a little, thinking about that.  I was just finishing the floors when I heard my Master's keys in the door. I quickly put the mop and bucket away, and trotted to the front door, so that I would be kneeling, my knees apart, when he entered the house.

"Have a good time Master?" I asked.

"Had a blast." He answered.

"Get laid?"

"Nah, thought about one, but decided against it. I'm tired. Been up most of the night. I'm going to bed."

"Aww, that's too bad Master. I was hoping you'd have fucked some girl, then I could clean the skank's pussy juices from your cock with my tongue."

"I'm awake now!" he piped up, his eyes widening at my half-teasing suggestion. "Open your legs sweety, let me see how wet you're getting."

I slid my knees along the floor a little wider apart, gathering the front panel of my silks,and laying it across my thigh so my Master could get a good look at just how wet he makes me. I watched him look at my moist labia glistening in the light. As I did, he grabbed my nipple between his fore and middle fingers, clenching them in a tight fist, causing my nipple to cry out in instant pain, which caused my pussy to twitch. Using my nipple, he pulled me to my feet. He placed his other hand on my throat. I trembled slightly, a little scared. I didn't know what he was planning. My nipple screamed with pain, my Master's hand was closing around my throat. He moved his hand up my throat, causing my mouth to produce plenty of saliva. I locked my hands behind my back, causing my breasts to push forward, making certain they were available to him, for whatever purpose he had in mind.

"Such a wonderful creature you are, mine. Completely elegant at times, in your sluttiness, and love for cumming." He said as he twisted his wrist, the one attached to the hand, that was attached to the knuckles which had my nipple clamped between them like a vice. I winced. The pain was completely bearable, and completely pleasurable at the same time, but it was still pain.

"I only love to cum for you, Master." I said, my voice a throaty whisper with his hand around my neck.

Reaching the top of my throat, he moved to of his large, meaty fingers to my lips. Instinctively (or through proper training, I'm not quite sure which), I opened my mouth to them. I could feel my pussy oozing. I was wet, and ready for whatever he had in store. Hell, just having him in the same room with me makes me wet and ready for him. His presence, the sound of his breath, his smell. The way his clothes sound whenever he moves. All of it. My Master pushed two of his fingers into my mouth, and pressed them on my tongue. "Is that so?" he asked, moving his fingers back and forth along my tongue.

He let loose of my nipple to a fresh wave of pain as the blood rushed back to the afflicted area. His hand went directly to my pussy, his fingers spreading my lips. Goose pimples raised on my thighs as the cool air touched the wet insides of my labia.

"I asked you a question cunt!" he snapped, pushing his two fingers deeper into my mouth, heading towards my throat.

"Mmmhh hhmmmm" I mumble around the fingers that were fucking my mouth.

"Good girl" he replied, moving his finger to just barely touching my clit. I closed my eyes to hold back the tears. Not tears of pain or sorrow mind you, but tears caused by the humiliation of utter usage. "Weeelll, cum" he commanded as I involuntarily pushed my pelvis forward, trapping my clit between my body and his finger, the sensation sending shock-waves of pleasure throughout my entire body.

He shoved his fingers deeper into my mouth, then forced a third finger into my mouth. My mouth, now full with his thick fingers, my lips stretching, feeling that sting at the corners of my mouth from being opened farther than my body had intended it to be opened on a normal basis. I fought the urge to gag while his three digits fucked my mouth. "I didn't' say you could move! Only that you could cum" he said harshly, as if he was on the verge of losing his patience with me. I came. I bucked twice when I did. I couldn't help it. Each time, his fingers driving deeper into my throat.

He removed his fingers from my throat, and clasped his hand around my throat hard and fast. The wet fingers stinging and making a 'slap' sound as they contacted my skin. "That little orgasm isn't going to satisfy me cum slut. Get moving, cum again...NOW!" he commanded.

"Yes Maste..." my words were cut short when his hand tightened around my throat, his fingers and thumb pressing into my jugular. My Master's other hand was moving furiously fast over my clit. Almost like a vibrator. I was shaking and running out of breath rapidly.

Fear rose in me. Not mortal fear. I trust my Master utterly and completely. I know he would never damage me. But you're mind races in a situation like that. Like watching a scary movie. You know it is only a movie, but you get scared anyway. You know that Norman isn't going to get you in the shower, that the vampire can't really hurt you. That the killer clown and the giant spider are just pixels on your television screen. But that doesn't stop from experiencing the fear. Knowing you are safe, at home, in your living room, relaxing in your boyfriend's arms, eating popcorn and drinking soda pop doesn't stop your palms from sweating, or your heart from racing. Tears began to well into my eyes. My heart was pounding in my chest, I could feel the blood pulsing strong and fast through the vessels in the throat that he had clamped his hand around, squeezing.

As I drew near to another orgasm, he removed his finger from my clit, and began swatting my pussy with his open hand. Not real hard, but hard enough to sting a little, and hard enough that I hear the wet 'smacking' sound made by each strike. "SLUT!" he almost yelled, "pay attention, you cum for me or not. I'm tired, and here you are, making me work for it!"

"fuu-uu-uU-UU-UUUCK MASTER!!" I screamed as I came, my juices gushing from my pussy.

"Ahhh" he said, removing his hand from my throat, leaving his other hand holding my mound, allowing my juices to coat it liberally.

When he finally removed his hand from my mound. I knelt before him, taking his wetted hand in my own, I began to lick and clean my juices from it with my tongue, lips and mouth. "You like that skank's cum and juices?" he asked. I was shocked..a little, that he basically called me a skank. Not that I mind being called a skank, heaven knows I've been called (and admitted to being) much worse. What went through my mind at that point was that my Master is too good of a man, too good of a person, too good of a Master, to own a skank.

"Yes Master" I said, pulling my lips from around his fingers, "I do like your skank's cum and juices" I said, before returning to my cleaning of his hand.

"Be careful who you call a skank, little one." He used the phrase 'little one', that meant that I'd done wrong. He uses that when lessons are to be taught. I'm not particularly fond of it, and thankfully, don't have to hear it much. It means I've displeased him. Not much, but even displeasing him a little, is way more than I want. "They may not be your calibre at times. But usually they will stay still."  With that, he turned, went up the stairs, and got into  bed.

 

(( As always, comments & criticisms are more then welcome :) ))