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A Game of Master and Slave

Posted on : 2012-01-28 16:54:45.053516

Thank you, T... not possible without you; in more ways than one.

; )

Feedback is definitely encouraged.

PD

...

"I love you," she said, a faint echo of plea in her voice.

"I love you too." I was behind her at the vanity, both of us barefoot on the marble floor of the bathroom. Daylight and beach sounds poured in through windows, the curtains billowing brightly. Sky blue outside, an impossibly thick sand-colored towel wrapped around me.

"You know I'm sorry, right...?"

"I know," my hands were on her hips now, as I moved behind her. Both of us were illuminated in the expansive surface of the mirror. The cups of her lacey bra held her in, the tops of her swells curving deliciously. The boyshort panties wrapped around her hips, and my hands wrapped around the panties.

She knew this was my favorite view of her, exposed, sensual, and ready. Matching bra and panties were my favorite lingerie on her; my still-damp body molded to hers as I held her from behind. My chest touched her warm back. I could feel the clasp of her bra on my skin as she leaned back into me.

My eyes went to the mirror, seeing her face, and easing over her body like a second caress as I touched her with my palms and fingertips. Her eyes were wide, concerned.

"I really am." She said, her eyes now closing as she leaned back against me, offering herself, in a way.

"I know you are. You told me so, and I believe you." My body nestled right up behind her, accepting her. She moved her head to the side, and I moved her cascade of blonde hair away with my hand, my mouth very close to her neck. I know she could feel my breathing there, as my hands held her hips fast.

"And I told you, I'd do anything you wanted."

"I know you did. And you will." I started to gently kiss her neck as I held her close, knowing that as I slowly moved from her ear to her collarbone I'd raise the goose bumps on her.

"I will," she exhaled, the white and tan opulence of the suite's master bath falling away, a bit. I kissed her neck for a while; my hands moved in front, palms over her navel now, traveling over smooth warm skin.

"Today you're my little slave girl," I said into her neck matter-of-factly, as I kissed her, my hands holding her just a bit closer, just a bit tighter. She was now leaning forward, as I had gently pushed her forward to the rim of the vanity, her palms seeking support on top of the marble top as I continued what I was doing.

Her legs moving more apart.

"Oh yea? And what if I misbehave?" Her reply was playful; her eyes still closed as her body started to really react to my touch. I knew her nipples would be stiffening, and by the way she was rubbing against me, I suspected that the cleft between her legs was wet.

"Again?" I asked, pointedly.

This brought a silence, and perhaps I was a bit too sharp. Like that first whack of a spanking, or the first crack of a kurt-whip, disciplining a slave, letting her know you mean business.

I moved on quickly, not giving her time to dwell on the hurt. "I'll discipline you, like I do my other slave girls." Diverted by my words, her mouth dropped open in surprise, eyes open, and then looking at me in the mirror, she recovered well.

"Oh you have other slave girls, do you?" He chin raised a bit, her nose up, a bit of a pout on her face.

As if I could have any other slaves but her.

"I have many girls on my chain, little one," I said absently, nuzzling her neck. "Many beautiful women owned and trained. But today," I paused, teasing her ear with my tongue, "is your day. Today you are my favorite slave."

"How many other slaves do you have?" she asked, leaning into me, accepting my physical and figurative premise.

"Many."

"And why am I your favorite?" She asked, in a tone that defined her more than anything I'd heard in a long while.

"Today you're my favorite," I clarified. Her tone changed, just a bit.

"Just today?"

"Well, today in particular." I was slowly crafting this as I went. I had an idea of how I wanted her, how I was going to resolve the issue of last night.

"Because I give such good head?" she asked, finally starting to push back, in her way. I smiled into her neck. She gave amazing head. Many women think they did, many are mistaken.

But she had a gift.

"That's one of the reasons. Another reason is I like showing you off, more than the other slaves." I moved my head, and started kissing her on the other side, her silken hair tickling my face for a moment. I breathed in deeply, catching the scent of her.

"Showing me off?"

"Showing you off. Letting the men of the world see you, see what I have, what I own." A few heartbeats passed. This again was sensitive territory given what had happened the previous evening. I moved her hair out of the way again, and her body moved with mine, ever so slightly, our responses subliminal after so long. Call and reply.

"Are you going to show me off today?" She asked, tentative.

"Definitely," I answered as I looked up, my hands now traveling along her ribs. "And to do that, we need to make a few changes."

"Oh? Like what?" Her eyes were up, now. Standing behind her and reflected in the mirror, I looked right into those pools, my head tilted down. My hands were on her shoulders now, gently caressing her.

"First of all, call me 'Master'. Or I'll spank you."

Something in my tone must have conveyed the fact that I'd spank her, well and truly, making her cheeks glow bright red and bringing tears if I had to; that I'd do it in a heartbeat.

She responded to the tone.

"Master?" She gave the word a tentative try.

"Yes."

"Master," she spoke again, wrapping her lips around the word.

I liked how it sounded, when she said it.

"Good slave," I told her.


"Mmmmm. Thank you. Master." She put her head back again, leaning into me as I nestled up close behind her. "What can I do for you, Master?"

"Well, slave, I'm going to show you off today. Do you like to be shown off?"

Again, a pause here. I moved my hand up her back, over her bra and gathered up a bit of her hair again, this time a length of it entwined in my hand, moving her head slightly to the side. I sank my teeth gently into her neck, then kissed where I had put my teeth on her, and let her feel my hardness as I rubbed it on her behind over her cheeks, over those panties.

"Do you like to be shown off," I repeated. "Do you like men looking at your body?" Her head went back, leaning over my own shoulder as I tended to her, being a bit firmer with my mouth and my hands as I held her.

"Yes, Master."

"Tell me about that," I whispered, in her ear.

"What?" She asked, a little breathless now.

"Tell me about why you like the attention of other men," I told her, knowing my words were sinking deeply into who she was. My pulse was rising, and I was thickening down below, rubbing up against her lasciviously, fully erect and sliding in between her cheeks now.

"I like..." she started, searching. "I like their eyes on me." Her own eyes were closed again, and her head was back as she made the admission. Her hips were rolling in that sensual way, rubbing back against me.

"You do, eh?"

"Yessss, I do." Her voice was throaty. If I was going there, apparently, she was going to surrender and be led. Like a good little slave.

"Tell me more," I said, kissing the top of her shoulder and moving the tips of my fingers under the general swells of her breasts, bringing them up.

"I like knowing they are imagining me, like this."

"Imagining owning you, possessing you?" I asked, intrigued.

"Yes..."

"Using you?" I was falling into this very easily, it seemed.

"Yessss," our bodies were moving together now, as we stood at the vanity. This was our dance, clearly me taking her from behind, though her panties and my towel were in the way. Her legs wobbled a little, as she braced herself against me, pitching a little forward.

I very much enjoyed having this effect on her.

"I see," I continued. "Men's eyes on you... like a caress," My hands moved, kneading her swells through the bra as I whispered to her. "Your breasts... your lips..." I moved my hands down, and cupped her behind, running my hands over her shape there. "Your ass..."

"Yessss" She breathed, moaning slightly as I explored her, passing my fingers over her as men's eyes might go. I kept moving, slowly, enjoying the feeling of her rubbing against me as I explored her body with my hands, watching her in the mirror every so often. Her eyes were still closed.

"Okay, slave... hmmmmmmm," A thought came to me. "I have to think of a slave-name for you."

"A..." she gasped as I bit into her shoulder again. "A slave name?"

"A name that I can give you, so that when you hear it, you'll know the part of you I'm talking to," I moved my hands again, one taking up the heft of a breast, the other tracing the lines of her lower lips, ridges in the smooth fabric of her panties. "So you'll know I'm talking to the slave, the party toy," my fingers got bolder, circling around her hard little nub through those panties. "The girl I like to show off, and own."

She was soaking.

"Mmmmmmmm," she answered back, bending her hips forward and rubbing her heated sex against my fingers, the moisture coming through the panties to my fingertips. "What's my slave name?"

"I haven't decided. I'm still upset with you." Again, with the whip.

"Yes Master," I heard it in her voice, the pain of it, genuine. I reached around the edge of her panties, and dipped my finger into her wet honeypot. Her gasp came, the good with the bad, pleasure with the pain. She cooed, and rubbed back into me as I did this to her, my sweet little slave.

"What can I do, Master?" She asked again, almost pleading now.

"First..." I leaned over, my hips still flush with hers and grinding against her, my other hand now reaching towards the colored bag she kept her makeup in, on the top of the vanity. "Put this on, do yourself up." It took her a moment, to orient.

"How...?" she asked, looking at the bag and at me but still completely into the motion of our bodies.

"Do it differently," I said. "Not like you normally do. Do it like a slut would." She was still leaning into me, her eyes still closed, and there came here an intake of air.

"I don't... usually do that..." she stammered.

"Why?" I asked, my finger still at its dewy, heated work.

"Because... I'm not like that." She pitched forward again, gently, for support, as my fingers worked her relentlessly. I followed right behind, still pressing against her.

"Like what?" I asked.

"Like a slut."

"But you are today." I told her. "Today you're my slave girl. And today you do whatever I say, right?"

"Yes Master."

"Good. And as you put it on, I am going to amuse myself with your body." I drew my fingertips out and traced up a wet line along her spine up to her neck, still very close behind her. "Perhaps a name will come to me. " It was getting so that I didn't need to be teasing her erogenous zones; I just needed to stroke her body, anywhere, and keep whispering to her.

I was getting –very- aroused, and I knew she could feel it.

"Before you do your lips, I have need of them, slave. Something I'd like you to work on." With that I gently turned her, guided her down to her knees on the cool marble in front of me. I knew it wasn't comfortable, but I knew I wanted to feel her mouth on me. "Do a good job," I commanded, unnecessarily.

"Mmmmmmm, yes Master." Her eyes were closed as she said that, but as she lowered she opened them, large and beautiful as she looked up at me. My towel fell to the floor, the cool air hitting my hips and thighs. I took a step back, bringing her forward so that her knees were now on the plush, damp cotton.

She took my length in her hand, and stroked me up and down as I pulsed, using her tongue on the base and around my balls. She worked her hand up and down, drawing a bead of fluid out easily.

My turn, to react. My legs were tight, my breathing deep as she started, a slave on her knees, but now taking control. I spoke as my head went back, feeling her mouth on me.

"I knew when I saw you up on that block, on display after your city was captured; I knew I wanted to own you. I wanted to possess you, and use you as I saw fit."

"Mmmmmmm," She replied, running up and down my firm length with her tongue. I didn't look down, but I knew she was watching me, watching my body react. I caught that scent, then; her sex filling the air, and I pulsed under her lips.

"Just like that," I said, breathing in deeply. My hands now came to her, along her smooth cheeks, my fingertips grazing her lips before I moved into her hair, both palms gathering up the length of her silken mane in my hands in a very male gesture.

"You knew?" she asked, as she traveled up and down. "You knew you wanted to own me...?" My grip tightened a bit around the length of hair I had. I knew I had better start to dig in, figuratively. I wasn't ready to give her that particular creamy gift yet, and she was well on her way to getting it, although she'd just started.

"You fought at first," I responded. "I remember. But I knew, deep down, you wanted to serve me, wanted me to truly Master you."

"Mmmmmmmmhmmmmmmm," she replied, taking me fully into her mouth now. I looked down, watching her, and caught those beautiful eyes as she looked up for a moment at me, then closed her own, focusing on her slave's work.

"To take you in hand," I went on, my hands still in her hair as she bobbed on me. "Free you to be as wild and dirty as you could be; after all, you're just a slave girl, no will of your own, having to do whatever your Master says."

"Whatever he says..." she gasped, coming up for air before descending back down onto me. After a bit more of that, I knew I had to set the pace, or else I'd wind up spurting in her lovely mouth... and as attractive as that idea was, I wanted to wait. I removed one hand from her hair and grasped the base of my hardness. I took it out of her mouth, gossamer strands connecting the tip and her lips, some of it running down her cheek as she watched it, mouth open.

I rubbed it on her face, making her cheeks slick with it, watching her as I did it.

"Can you taste me, slave?" I asked huskily, trying to master my own breathing.

"Oooooh Yes Master."

"Can you feel that on your face? I think maybe I need to mark you as mine, somehow. So you don't forget."

Again, with the whip.

"Yes, Master... yes. I'm yours..." She breathed the words, as if apologizing to me by saying them.

"Good."

Gently but firmly, I pull her up. Not quite lifting her by her hair, but letting her know what I wanted by how I handled the ponytail I held. I moved her, sat her up on the vanity. Her arms went back and her legs opened as I stepped into her, my hard wet length rubbing against her panty-covered cleft.

"I want to see these," I breathed, looking at her chest. "I want to see your nipples. Show them to me"

Skillfully, one of her arms reached up, and undid the bra. It fell away and her lovely swells spilled out in front of my eyes. Full and heaving, topped by very pronounced nipples feeling the air in the bathroom and standing right up.

My hands were under her knees now, drawing her open and up, still rubbing against her between her legs.

"Do you like men to see your nipples?"

She didn't answer, but moaned as I said this. I might have to pry this answer out of her, I thought.

"Do you?"

"I do," she said. Her eyes open, a bit glazed as she looked at me, moving her hips and rubbing herself against me. "Master... I do...."

I pushed. "Why?"

She looked at me, her eyes pleading a bit, her lower lip between her teeth. "Because... it makes me hot... because I need it."

Jesus. I was hard as a rock, at these words.

"You're a needy little slave, aren't you?" I released one leg, which instantly wrapped around my hips and drew me into her. I took one of her nipples between my fingers and pulled.

She gasped, eyes widening.

"I am..."

"And you need that attention...?"

"I do, Master, I do..."

"I know... and that's okay, slave girl. I knew that about you when I first saw you, when... I first laid eyes upon you on the block. " I kept using my fingers on her, tweaking and pulling and teasing her nipples as I spoke to her like this. "When the man tore your top off, stripped you in front of the gathered crowd, I saw how you reacted... you felt ashamed, but your body... definitely needed it"

Her eyes were closed now, her mouth open as she took in air, seeming to feel the words, see it all in her mind as I spoke to her.

I couldn't take it any more. I was throbbing, aching. I pulled her off the vanity, again reaching for her hair. With a deft turn she was standing, turned around and facing the mirror again, offering herself to me behind her. I bent her over and with a fluid motion yanked the panties down to her ankles, and with that free hand put the swollen, aching tip of my length between those sweet wet lips, adjusting slightly and finding just the right angle before sinking myself into her.

She moaned, low and guttural, as I took her from behind. One hand on her hip, the other still in her hair as I pushed all the way in, my inches buried to the hilt in her. She felt exquisite, and I stayed like that, buried for a moment, savoring it before drawing out.

"Put your legs together," I gasped, and she did so, instantly. Being taller, I adjusted a bit, and eased back up inside of her, lifting her onto the balls of her feet with the force of my entry. That delicious first few strokes inside were mind-numbing, as I felt her slick heat grip me, wrap around me. I started in earnest.

She was moaning, gasping. "Master..... Master..." I was not being gentle.

"You're very tight, slave," I managed to say, between gritted teeth. "And very wet." I knew she'd be running down the inside of her thighs now, especially with me taking her so forcefully.

She was moaning with each thrust, as was I. We got into our rhythm, and I moved my hips, rubbing the head against her sweet spot up inside, tickling her there as I pounded. After a brief time of this, I felt her building towards her climax.

With the control of a samurai, I stopped abruptly, eased out of her, my length slick, glistening and cool as it hit the air.

"Ooooooooh," she cried out, her legs shaking a bit." "Nooooo Master, please," she begged. "I'm good..."

She definitely was, and I definitely wanted to. But I resisted. Somehow.

"That's enough for now, I think."

"Ooooooh but why?" As she spoke, she moved back against me, trying to either slip my pulsing shaft back up inside her, where it belonged, or to entice me to do it. "Don't you want me? Jesus, I'm so hot, and sooooo wet... God..." She was getting frustrated, I knew.

"Because I want you hot. I want you charged."

She looked over her shoulder at me, still in motion, but slow, a girl's pout on her flushed face, her full chest moving with the motion of turning. I smacked my palm on her ass, my hardness still pulsing and still very much on my mind, though I did my best to ignore it.

"Fix your lipstick, slave girl," I said, with a smile, rubbing myself on her rear, teasing myself as well as her.

"Yes master," she responded, still throaty, still needy, and now probably achy between her legs where I just was, stretching her out. Now there was empty, there. I saw wetness running down her thigh.

I drew her close, coming in behind her as she lifted the lipstick up and worked it skillfully, definitely a darker shade than her usual. As I watched in the mirror, I reached around and tweaked her nipples again, playing with her magnificent orbs.

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