The Latest Acquisition

It was a hot day, I had just the hint of perspiration on my forehead as I walked across the barren sand towards Ma’am, the bank draft in my hands. “Ma’am,” I said, “just the person I was hoping to see.”

“You are happy to se me?” asked Ma’am, “why so?”

I handed her the bank draft, confirming a transfer of funds; “Well, I’m always happy to see you, but I have this for you, to confirm the transfer of funds as discussed.”

By now the people around had started paying attention. A quiet hush fell over the common gathering area, where people sit, and talk and decide what they want to do with which slave that day. People and slaves leaned in, listening, as the Ma’am unfolded the paper and read it carefully. “Ah, yes, I recall. We spoke about it. So you really paid the agreed amount.” She said, more of a statement than a surprise, as if for some reason, she thought either I could not acquire the funds, or I would have second thoughts.

“Of course, and I still believe I got the better end of the deal” I replied, looking over to the slave I had grown so fond of these past few months, as it kneeled there in the sand, its arms behind its back, its legs spread wide, the slave petals glistening in the sun from its near constant state of arousal.

Ma’am held the paper to the light, checking for proper watermarks. “I hope you did not fake the wire transfer,” she said smiling innocently “but I think, guess, hope – I can trust here – if not, I will reclaim the goods.”

I blinked, and tried to look aghast; “Fake it? I’m almost offended at the thought.”

“Aren’t there bankers around that can check for the validity – it is a large sum, Ma’am, whatever it maybe for.” the slave had injected itself into the conversation. We continued on, ignoring it, as if it had not spoken.

“Yes,” Ma’am said, “I would be too, but aren’t we where we are because we know who we are?” She asked.

Even though we had the rapt attention of the entire crowd, the slave did not falter on its greetings to Mistresses, Masters and others who were arriving. I chuckled, “true Ma’am, very true” I responded.

One of Ma’am’s personals craned her neck around Ma’am to catch a look at the paper, and muttered something, I could not understand it, nor could I tell if it was impressed with the sum, or nonchalant about it.

“However,” she continued, “you know this item has some marks, some scratches and so on? You buy this item as seen.” More people are gathering around the transaction, curious to know what is going on. “…and I do not want to mention the, well, uhm, mileage.”

“I understand completely, nothing a little plastic surgery cannot fix.” I said, catching the slave from the corner of my eye, kneeling, quivering slightly in the sand. So full of lust, always so ready to please.

“Well, so be it, but again, here all of you can witness it, a refund is not an option.” Ma’am said as if it were the final word on anything and everything. “girls” she said addressing her personal slaves “you are my witnesses. I told her.” The statement was followed by a round of “yes Ma’am” from her girls.

The slave, who is kept next to a post, near the center of the gathering area, attached by a chain from its clit ring to the post – scooted as close to the conversation as the chain would allow, wincing a little as the chain pulled on its clit ring.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be seeking a refund,” I said.

One of Ma’ams slave girls piped up “you gave her plenty of warning.”

“Has there been a test drive, I hope?” another of Ma’ams girls asked.

“What it cannot do now, it can be trained to do.” I said with confidence, “I’ve seen its ability to learn.”

At this, Ma’am smiled and opened her pouch, she took out a set of keys on a ring, selected one key from the rest and handed them to me, “here, this should be the one for the collar, the others are for the cuffs and what not”

I took the keys, and bounced them in my hands a few times, smiling “thank you.” I said with a little nod.

Ma’am smiled at me, then looked to the slave chained to the post “well, I just sold you.”

One of the other Mistresses there smiled and nodded “yes, it does learn well…sometimes that is.”

“Say hello to your new owner” Ma’am said, addressing the slave – “Mistress Dagger that is.”

The slave blushed, and looked almost hurt “you sold this slave, Ma’am? To Mistress Dagger?” It asked “the slave hopes it did not displease you, Ma’am.”

“Mhm…you know how that is, we all have to earn a living, and food costs, expenses etc. The curse of capitalism, and theses bankers…” her voice trailed off before she went into another tirade against bankers, and capitalism in general.

One of the visiting slaves giggled, covering her mouth “oooh, it was the slave being sold!” she exclaimed.

The slave, my new property, smiled up at me, its face alight with joy, and shuffled closer, wrapping its arms around my legs.

“I wish you both a prosperous future,” Ma’am said.

“Thank you again Ma’am,” I said, running my fingers through my property’s hair, “for such a great deal.” The slave at my feet, leaned down and began kissing my sandy toes, tears streaming down its face.

“So, the slave will leave the Den?” One of the Mistresses asked. “Congratulations Dags!” exclaimed another, clapping with excitement.

“So, if you want, you can rent of course a slave kennel, if it needs a rug to sleep on.” Ma’am said grinning as the slave scooted away from my feet, towards Ma’ams feet, and kissed each of her feet, before returning to its new owner.

“Thank you, Ma’am, but I have a house.”

With that, on 29 April, I acquired my latest piece of property. The slave had caught my eye some months before. A near perfect specimen. It had a body that seemed to be built for sexual slavery.

We had not discussed my owning it, except once, shortly after I came across it. At that time, I had told it I would not own it. That I would not claim it as mine. As they say, the best laid plans of mice and men…. It did not know I was going to take it as my own. it did not know I had worked out with the owner of the sim to claim it as mine. It was sold to me, so much like the piece of slave meat property that it is. I own it, its body, its mind, its soul…its future. All of these things belong to me. They exist for my enjoyment. For my pleasure.

Bad girl...bad, bad girl

So far, I've written about how wonderful my Master is. How generous he can be. But, that is not all he is. I am not always the good girl I make myself out to be. Sometimes I do things which disappoint, or otherwise cause my Master grief. In these instances, he punishment is harsh and painful (not to mention exciting as all HELL). Early on, soon after I took his collar, one such occurrence happened. I won't go into the details of my offense. The transgression I committed doesn't really matter.

"I did tell you there was going to be a price to pay, didn't I little one?" My Master asked. His fingers, raking into the fleshy cheeks of my ass, which spilled about his fingertips like combed sand.

"Yes Master" I whimpered feeling the dull, binding pain of his fingers digging into my ass.

I was in what could be called a "less-than-comfortable" position. Master had rigged shackles to a four foot by four foot square, flat board. The board was not completely rough. It had been sanded some, but not so much that I could not feel the wood grain, nor to such a point as to ensure naked skin rubbing over it would not get splinters. My neck was shackled to the board. My wrists were shackled near my head, and my ankles here shackled next to my wrists. I was completely naked. Doubled over so tight, the aroma of my pussy was thick in my nostrils with each breath. Breathing was difficult in this compressed position, but not so difficult that I might pass out due to lack of oxygen. My ass and pussy were raised up in the air, exposed for whatever my Master had planned for them.

Master dug his fingers hard into my ass flesh. Making fists with my skin between his fingers and palms. The pain was atrocious. I gritted my teeth hard and whimpered and moaned through them. He kneaded my ass like that. Releasing his grip, moving his hands just a little bit, and grabbing another fistful of ass. Tears were already starting to well in my eyes. Then the grabbing stopped. Suddenly I felt a terrible sting in my lower back, then another, and another. My Master was pinching me. Pinching me hard. Moving down (up in this position) my back towards my ass. I could feel the terrible tension in each of the little assaults. His finger and thumb squeezing my skin between them, holding it for a brief second, before releasing it. My back and ass lit on fire. Heat rising in them, I could fee the heat distinctively in each location where he'd pinched me. I flinched and squirmed. Whining and whimpering with each stinging pinch. Tears began to leak from my eyes and track down the sides of my reddened face.

I could feel my ass dotted with little islands of heat. I could imagine smallish glowing red spots all over it from my Master's treatment. I screamed out, trying to lift my head, which was held fast to the board by the shackle around my neck, when he moved to pinching that ever-so-tender skin on the inside of my thighs, just below (or, above in this position) my pussy. More tears rolling from my eyes. I was panting. Trying to keep my breath, trying not to feel the pain. I didn't want my Master to see me as weak. I sniffled, took in a deep breath, closed my eyes, and slowly let it out. It came out broken and raspy. He stopped his pinching. Master was running the palm of his hand over my sore ass. His hand, usually warm, felt cool against the heated flesh of my cheeks. He rubbed them, running his fingers and palms over every inch of my smooth skin.

"AAAYYY" I screamed out almost at the same time the loud 'SLAP' reverberated off the walls of the room. My Master had pulled both hands back from my ass about a foot, and delivered a blow with each at the same time. The sound was loud, sharp and harsh. My ass immediately lit on fire. I was full on crying now. Partially because of the pain, but mostly....mostly because I had wronged my Master. I had done something that caused him displeasure. I hated that feeling. I deserved whatever he was going to give me as punishment..and much more even. He left his hands on my ass. Back to rubbing and kneading it. Letting me calm a little I think, or maybe just lost in the pleasure of digging his fingers into my flesh, I'm not sure which it was.

"You remember your lesson little one?" He asked. He grabbed at my cheeks, not seeming to even care if I answered. He pulled them apart, exposing my tight, anus.

"Y...yes Master" I whimpered, just knowing he was going to dry fuck my ass with at least his fingers, my tears and whimpering started up again in anticipation.

"And what is that girl?" He asked, suddenly his hands, alternatively, rising from my ass and slapping down on it hard. His left hand lifting while his right hand was slapping, his left hand slapping while his right was lifting. One, two, one, two, one, two all in rapid succession. Not giving any time between slaps for recovering.

"T..to.." I sniffed..."to  not disappoint you Master". I finally managed to squeak out. I sucked in a gasp when he stopped slapping his hands moving up the crack of my ass, to my tender pussy lips. He rubbed them between his finger and thumbs, a flap in each hand.

"Yes, and in this situation, how could that have been avoided little one?" He asked, working both of his thumbs between my lips, squishing them into my wet pussy.

"To.." sniffle... " to think of you before I do anything Master" I replied, regaining some composure. My back was beginning to burn from the cramped position I was in, my thigh muscles to tighten and tense. He placed his fingers and thumbs on each of my pussy lips, massaging them firmly.
"Good..." He said tensly, pinching my lips hard as I cried out, then releasing the pinch, "...girl" he added with another harsh pinch. I screamed out again, balling now, tears were running down the side of my face. I cried, my mouth opened and wailing. Me moved his fingers..well, not moved them so much, and squeezed them down the length of my pussy lips. Not really letting go and re-pinching them. More like he walked them down my lips, squeezing and rubbing the whole way. The pain was immense. I thought for sure he would succeed in ripping my skin, that he already had, perhaps, considering the amount of wetness i could feel down there. He worked his way to the thick, meaty parts of my lips, and squeezed his fingers together hard. He held them there. The pain seared through my body. I cried out, I could see his knuckles turning white while he pinched and didn't let go.

Master squeezed hard and held on tight. Gawd, the pain was tremendous. I was balling and wailing. He then pulled. He pulled them, holding onto them so tight, until they let loose because he could not hold on tight enough to pull them off. As the blood rushed back to the afflicted parts, a new wave of pain send me into a louder fit of cries and moans. Master then began rubbing the palms of his hands over my bruised and reddened ass again. The 'SWAT'. Three spanks on each cheek. The last one on each, brutal enough to leave red hand prints as they echoed throughout the room. I yelped and screamed with each swat.

"You want my forgiveness little one?" He asked.

I sniffled, "Y...yes Master...I beg your forgiveness....I...I am so sorry" I said, tears flowing, sniffling between the words. The tears, mind you, were only partially due to the pain. A great deal of them, were because I had disappointed him. Had made my Master not be proud of my actions. I had done something that offended him. And that, dear readers, is more painful, and more distressing, than any form of punishment he could imagine to deal out. I deserved whatever punishment he was giving me, or would give me. I deserved that, and so much more for my transgression.

"You know..." he went on, moving his hands up the backs of my thighs, brushing over the creases in the backs of my knees. "If I forgive you on this...." his hand moved towards my face. I flinched instinctively as the back of his hand caressed my left cheek, smearing the tears. "It is over with, and we can move on."

"Yes Master" I whispered hoarsely.

"Good girl" he said, moving his hand back down and around my body. He brought it up, softly caressing my ass and rested it on my pussy. I softened, and relaxed  with my Master's touches, then tensed as he placed his hand on my pussy. The expectation of a slap on my pussy caused it to twitch under his hand. I could see a slight grin appear on his face. He could feel my heat under his hand. How hot, wet and excited I had become. Sure, I was in dire emotional straights right then. I had done wrong. I had caused him embarrassment and disappointment. But that doesn't stop my body from reacting. I can't help that. "I forgive you." Those words, coming from my Master's mouth, are the most glorious words I could ever imagine. There is little more that gives me such a feeling of comfort and security. He forgives me. Which means he will keep me. Which means, I am still his. Which means...all is right in the world again. As he said these words "I forgive you" he pressed the heal of his palm against the opening to my pussy, raised his fingers, and brought them down in a little slap against the rest of my pussy and clit.

My Master rested his hand on my pussy like that. Just sitting there. My shoulders and hamstrings here burning on fire from the position I was locked in. My ass and pussy lips were sore, aching and, I was 100% certain, bruised in various spots. He stood there, with his hand on my pussy. I don't know how long. I had stopped crying. I could feel the salty tears drying on the side of my face. 'CLAP' another clap on my pussy sent shivers through me, causing me to jolt and squirm against my bonds, causing my pussy to spasm. Master caressed my right cheek, with the back of his left hand, the raised his hand over my face. pressed his forefinger, middle finger and ring finger together, and pointed them at my mouth. "Open" he commanded. I did. Making an 'O' with my lips, as big as my mouth would allow.

Master was grinding him right palm against my swollen and sore pussy, causing such a pleasurably painful sensation. He pushed the three fingers of his left hand into my mouth. Running them over my tongue. Pushed farther. Farther still. He pushed them in, until he could not push them any farther. I gagged and choked on them. I could feel the webbing by his pinkie and thumb tight against the corners of my mouth, stretching, stinging just a little. I coughed against his thick, meaty fingers, praying I would not throw up on my Master's hand. I closed my lips around his fingers, and suckled them, as I would if he'd put his cock in there. I was slobbering pretty good already from my crying. Now, with his fingers in my mouth, my salivary glands seemed to be working overtime. He slapped my cunt again. I yelped in surprise against his fingers, spittle flying in little bits from what little space there was to escape around the digits.

"Now, slut" he said, pulling his fingers from my suckling lips. "Tell me, " Master was moving his fingers along the slit of my pussy, up to my clit which he began to rub in little circles. My hips began to move (as best they could) in time with his movements around my clit. Trying to press into his fingers. I wasn't doing it consciously. It was just unthinking reaction to what my Master was doing. Pure instinct you might say. "What do you want?"

What did I want? What did he mean by that? I ran through all the possible answers in my mind. Focusing on the two things I wanted most in the world at this point. The second one was to cum, but Master likes truth and honesty, and I decided to voice the number one thing I wanted. The thing, that I wanted most and above any else in the world. "To make you proud and happy, Master" I said, my voice strong and steady, and even, trying to signify the true and deep meaning of what I was saying, despite his constant manipulation of my clit, which was sending me to planes unknown. MY pussy seemed to be in a constant state of clenching and releasing, and clenching and releasing, as if it were pumping the wetness from inside. He rested his left hand on my tail bone. He pressed his middle finger right against my sphincter. My asshole puckered and quivered at the touch.

"Hmm..." he said, nodding his head a touch, his lips pursed "so you don't want to cum?" he asked then.

My head nodded rapidly up and down, a high pitched whimper squeaking from my throat "yes Master" I confessed while he pressed his finger against my anus with greater pressure. His right hand was sending shock waves of pleasure throughout my body by playing with my clit. My sphincter began to open, almost reluctantly it seemed, as he pressed on, his finger sliding into the dark heat.

"I don't know," he said almost non-chalantly, "that didn't sound very convincing to me" he added. My Master worked a second finger into my tight ass. I could feel the burning around the stretched rim. The feeling of his fingers moving in there. Creating heat with their friction. He never relented on my clit either. Gawd...I was so close to cumming. I was panting, and breathing heavy, biting my lip. I wanted to shove my knuckle into my mouth and bite down hard on it. But of course, in my position I couldn't. I whimpered and whined instead.

My Master began to fuck my ass in earnest with this two fingers. The bumpy knuckles grinding inside me. He pushed and twisted his palm hard against my pussy, then replaced his palm with his thumb, pushing it into my pussy while corkscrewing his fingers in and out of my ass, twisting and pumping them. Master rocked his right hand while he thumb fucked my pussy, each time giving my clit a slap. He worked is digits against each other. I wanted to cum so bad. My pussy was aching for relief. I was moaning, and whining and writhing and wiggling my ass against his fingers. Three now, he pushed a third one into my ass. He pulled them out, pushed them in, pulled and pushed and pulled and pushed. The burning from being stretched by my Master's thick fingers was subsiding. The burning of my ass, being replaced by the burning desire to cum. My body cried out for relief. He tweaked his wrist, his thumb pressing towards the front of my body. Pressing against my special spot right there. Pressing, and pulling back, and pressing again.

My Master's thumb stimulating my g spot, his fingers were slapping against my clit, not hard, but just enough. He had three fingers of his left hand buried deep in my ass. Fucking my ass with his fingers. Fucking my pussy with his thumb. Slapping my clit with his other fingers. My mind reeled. I could not think of where I was. Sweat poured down my body. I could feel it tickling my throat, dripping trails down my side from under my breasts. My breathing ragged. I closed my eyes. Trying desperately to wait for permission to cum, if he was going to give  permission.

"You can cum, my slut."

No more needed to be said. No more needed to be done. Immediately the floodgates opened. My passion, my desire, my love for him, my release poured from me in waves and gushes. My ass and pussy clenched and released around his fingers. My hips bucked and thrashed against his hands. I screamed, not just cried out, not just moaned, I screamed as I came. I screamed, and I cried. I cried again, for the sorrow I felt, that I had done something where my Master felt the need to punish me. Then, he stopped. He stopped is movements, and held his fingers and thumb inside me while my orgasm calmed and subsided. Slowly he pulled his digits from inside my body. He unshackled my legs first. Slowly lowering them. Rubbing them as he did, letting the blood and feeling come back to them gradually. Then attended my wrists and neck, finally allowing me movement. He took my in his arms, and held me.

I reached to my face, wiping the dried, and drying tears from it, "Thank you, Master" I whispered.

"All is well."

(( as always, comments and criticisms are MORE than welcome :) ))

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 :) ))

My Master?

I was bored and popped into Bondage Sex Dungeon (between the time I experience this, and now, the location has closed down :( ) to see what was going on. The place is usually pretty busy, but I have to admit, mostly with n00bs. But they have a thing there called "The Real Slut: A Living Breathing Sex Doll." It works like this, you get into it, and it shrink wraps you and puts you on display. Others can come by and kind of 'try' the merchandise. They can stick their fist in you, fondle your tits, or have your pussy probed. The device gives you a "brain implant" and when someone buys you, they have the controller, and can control what you do.

I had seen them around, but never actually used it, and I thought since I was mostly bored, I'd give it a try, so I got into one and put myself on display and for sale. I didn't know it at the time, but when someone buys you, you get L$100. I don't know how much it costs to buy someone though, maybe I'll try it sometime and if I do, I'll let you all know.

Anyway, this guy came up and was playing with the display. Oh, and this guy was a sight! He was tall, and broad and dark. He was wearing a suit, and leather arm bands! Oh, he looked so hot!

He reached up and groped my soft breasts. I moaned softly, feeling my nipples grow hard. He roughly squeezed my tits and seemed almost disappointed.