Yes, Master! Page 11

  “I’m going to split you wide, Lee,” he exclaimed.

  Liandra pushed her bottom out, signaling she was prepared, as much as a woman could be.

  “Good girl,” he spanked her. “Damn, you’d look good with a tattoo, wouldn’t you?”

  What would a man like Kyle pick? Something classier than Rave, more subtle, but deeper, too. She would know her place, she’d know she was his, she’d know she was a slave, loved, possessed.

  Would he ever take hold of another woman’s soul as he had Vanessa’s?

  Kyle moved the dildo in and out, taking more of her anus with every thrust. She felt the burning heat, the unstoppable invasion. Her toes curled, she couldn’t fight and with every heart beat she only knew herself more and more his.

  “Yeah, that’s it, damn, girl, you’re tight,” he marveled.

  She surged with pride. She was a good, entertaining ass fuck.

  “Let go,” he ordered. “Climax when you can.”

  Her buzzing pussy spasmed in response, as though his words held the trigger. At once she felt the rising from within. She’d be there in just a few moments...

  She rubbed her belly on the floor. He had her in steel, chained and restrained, clamped and filled, as much as a woman could be. Almost...

  Kyle went around to the front of her, leaving the dildo in her ass, like a wedge, opening her heart and soul, cleaving her flesh. She shook helplessly, a prisoner of the vibrator’s sensation. The clamps continued their own work, sending stars shooting to her brain.

  He wanted her up on her knees. There was an opening on the hood, to widen the mouth hole. The material parted and his cock punched through the opening. He shoved it to the back of her throat, making her gag. She worked feverishly to keep composure, swirling her tongue, suctioning him, pleasing him. She was his fuck hole; mouth, ass, cunt any way he wanted.

  Kyle relieved himself, spurting semen from the end of his red hot shaft. He’d come in seconds, using her with ruthless disregard for her own pleasure. She melted in slave’s heat, orgasmic with the bliss of servicing Him...Master...

  She gulped him down, every drop of his sacred fluid. He exhaled, satisfied. She smiled from under her dark hood. He pulled his cock out, without comment. She felt him attach a collar around her neck. It was made of leather, tight and cloying. There was a leash at the end of it. He pulled, giving it a hard yank.

  She hesitated.

  Kyle struck at her. Liandra was helpless to defend herself against the blow of the cane. He’d hit her breast, wrenching the deepest scream from her throat.

  He pulled the leash again and this time she sought her best to scoot forward on her knees.

  “Good girl,” he praised her obedience, treating her much the same as one would a dog. Liandra was humiliated and aroused at the same time. Her juices ran copiously down her thigh. Now he’d have no doubt just how much of a slave she was at heart.

  Why couldn’t she be the sort of female to bring a man to his knees, to force him to buy her clothes, trips and fancy meals. What was it in her blood made her warm all over to be slapped down? Why was she happiest on her knees, groveling before a strong, indomitable man?

  “You did well,” he praised, taking her back to her spot against the wall. “You were a good little bitch.”

  Liandra whimpered, anxious to please.

  “You’ll have some more corner time, baby,” he crooned. “Time to think about things and let your lesson sink in.”

  She was back in the corner, her knees bracing the walls.

  “Head down,” he ordered.

  She did as she was told, letting him draw the leash tight, down between her thighs and back up through the crack of her buttocks. He wound the leash off around her handcuffs, thus rendering her completely immobile. The leash dug into her crotch, effectively splitting open her pussy along the crack. Her cunt throbbed. She began to orgasm at once.

  “Stop that.” He gave her a warning thwack to the breast with the cane.

  Liandra shuddered, unable to help herself.

  “You’ll stay like this,” he told her fiercely. “Until I want you some other way...”

  She clenched her fists as he left her, as firmly under his control as if he were holding her tight in his arms. Yes, she thought. Finally someone got it, finally someone got her. She’d wait a million years, happily, because he’d be back. He would finish the torture he started. He was that kind of man.

  But they didn’t have a million years—just two days.

  If only she could faint, dissolve away into nothingness so she’d never have to wake on the other side of Sunday...

  Kyle came back later to take off the cuffs from her wrists and ankles. He removed the dildo and the vibrator, leaving her with a terrible emptiness between her legs. She attempted to lower herself to the floor, spreading her legs wide for penetration. He lifted her up instead, into his arms. She still had the hood on, her face stained with sweat underneath. She couldn’t see him. She could only feel the smooth bare skin of his chest. She nuzzled against him, safe and secure.

  He took her to the bath tub, setting her down gently into the warm, sudsy water. The bubbles collected about her sore breasts. She’d almost forgotten about the clamps.

  “This will hurt when I take them off,” he said softly. “So brace yourself.”

  She took a deep breath, trusting. She reached for his arm and held fast.

  He un-pinched the left clamp and then the right one in rapid succession. Lightning bolts of pain ripped at her chest as the blood surged back into her nipples. Oh, fuck, did it ever hurt!

  “That’s my girl,” he praised her.

  Liandra glowed at the obvious pride in his voice. A master would want his slave to take pain, naturally, just as he’d expect her to be bright and obedient and attentive and every other good quality.

  He took the soap and applied it to her belly. He rubbed her with great gentleness, round and round, building up a lather.

  “Open,” he ordered, tapping her thighs. She parted them in a single smooth motion. Her pussy was not hers to withhold, but his to enjoy, possess...share.

  His finger found her clit. He brought her to orgasm, no fuss, no muss. It was definitely the genuine article, though, complete with helpless female writhing and contortions.

  “A woman like you should be pleasured constantly,” he said. “Your life should be all about sex.”

  He’d get no argument from her. All she needed was someone to take her over and get the ball rolling. She’d happily live this way, when she wasn’t working.

  “Sex and service,” he added.

  Again, he was speaking her language.

  “Put your hand here,” he took her fingers. “Show me how you pleasure your body.”

  Liandra settled her fingers into a comfortable underwater masturbation position. Instantly she began to rev up. How many times was she going to be stimulated today, by her hand or his?

  Kyle wanted her hood off. He undid the buckles and straps and tugged at it. He was careful not to hurt her in anyway. She didn’t want him to see her like this, no matter how nice he was. She’d look a wreck underneath, hair matted, face blotched.

  She was ashamed.

  “Why are you fighting, angel?” His voice was easy going, amused.

  He wouldn’t understand. He was a man.

  “Keep your eyes closed a second when the hood comes off,” he said.

  She had to squint against the light. She wanted to cover her face with her hands but he told her to keep masturbating.

  “You’ll get used to it. Here, lean forward.”

  Liandra buried her head against his chest. He was like granite, a living wall of assurance and protectiveness. This was the kind of man any woman would want, kinky or not. Vanessa was one lucky woman. Was that the price nature exacted for landing such a good mate—meeting an early death at the hands of disease?

  He stroked her hair, soothing.

  She looked up at him, begging a kiss. He fitted hi
s lips to hers. Their arms found one another’s bodies, they hugged, intertwining. It was fast and deep, a communication of souls. How much had transpired in a short while. No other mortals would understand. She let the darkness come back, this time behind eyes slid closed of her own free will. She didn’t wish anything of the real world to spoil this moment.

  There was only silence and sighing and reaching...

  She traced tattoos on his skin, SOS messages designed to rescue her from the mundane and tragic sadness of ordinary life. She had no right to complain, she knew it, not compared to him, who’d lost his wife and faced the greatest pain a man could know. She’d comfort him if she could, with her lowly body, her soft flesh, a slave’s flesh. She’d borne the cane for him and taken the dildo and vibrator. Bring it on...on to the next course...

  The next thing she knew, he was lifting her again, this time over his shoulder. She laughed, caught completely off guard. “Kyle, Master, what are you doing?”

  “You’ll find out,” he declared, taking her right to the bedroom.

  He deposited her in the middle of his bed, a king size brass bed with a wicked looking headboard; definitely full of possibilities.

  She had a feeling he’d be exploring them in great detail as the night wore on...

  CHAPTER NINE

  Saturday morning was cleaning time at Kyle’s place and he was more than happy to have a slave to exploit in that regard. While Kyle read from his newspaper and sipped his coffee, Liandra labored on the floor, naked on all fours with a scrub brush. He’d left no doubt as to what would happen if she failed to be diligent in her efforts.

  She’d be punished, of course, with time in the closet, in heavy bondage. The stricture and the darkness wouldn’t be nearly as bad as the separation from her master. Liandra was already developing a slave’s clinginess and neediness.

  Her muscles screamed out in pain from the effort. Cleaning in this manner was most degrading...and exciting, too. Every now and again he’d look down on her, to check her progress.

  “Let’s see that little ass shaking a little harder, girl,” he’d say or, “You missed a spot, slave.”

  “Yes, Master,” she replied each and every time. “I will, Master.”

  Liandra wasn’t entirely naked, if you counted the collar. She was already considering it her own and she wore it with pride. She loved the way Kyle looked at her while she wore it. Her eyes were lit and he seemed always on the verge of a hard on. Twice more she’d submitted to him during the night. He had her spread eagle at one point, so he could tease her and torment her into sexual ecstasy. At another point he tied her arms to the head board as she knelt so her ass was completely exposed.

  He gave her a paddling that had her screaming for mercy. She was promising him anything and everything, pledging to his be his pet and slut for life. They were toying with the future, talking around it but not directly broaching the subject. What happened after Sunday, if anything, would be up to him. Of her own accord, she wouldn’t have the strength or the gumption to ever approach him again.

  Not because she didn’t have affection for him—she did—but rather because it wouldn’t feel right. It was his place to take the initiative.

  After he finished his coffee, Kyle stood and moved to stand directly in front of her. He seemed to be waiting for something.

  Her pulse racing, she lowered her head to his bare feet. One by one she kissed the tops of them, lovingly, seductively.

  He grabbed her by the hair and pushed her face to his balls. They were full and tight. “Lick,” he ordered.

  Liandra extended her tongue, offering her servile ministrations. She covered every bit of both sacs with her saliva. His skin was leathery and taut. She wanted the sperm inside, on her body and in it.

  “No,” he chided, preventing her from sucking his cock. “You’ll have to earn that little treat. Let’s see how you are at ass kissing first.”

  Kyle turned about presenting his buttocks. She released a moan, pressing her lips to his muscular behind. He had her eager and panting. She kissed him again and again.

  “Lick my asshole, slave,” he commanded.

  Liandra swooned. No man had ever dominated her like this. She rolled her tongue and pushed it between his cheeks.

  “That’s it, slave,” he coaxed. “You like pleasing your master, don’t you?”

  She continued to abase herself, enthusiastically.

  “That’s enough,” he said. “I’m ready to relieve myself.”

  His cock was hard and firm from all her licking. Her mouth watered in admiration. She looked at him, alert, attentive; how would he use her body?

  Kyle snapped his fingers. “Down.”

  He was pointing to the floor. She lowered herself to hands and knees.

  “No,” he said. “All the way.”

  Liandra sank to her belly on the floor, still wet from her scrubbing. She laid her cheek in a small, gray puddle. Kyle followed her down, pushing his cock inside of her pussy. She squirmed, making room for him. He braced his hands on either side of her and began to fuck. She was wet and hot and took him well, like a good slave. He used her body as a cushion, happily humiliating her.

  She groaned, craving his come inside her. He was on the verge, but he pulled out at the last second. He ejaculated on the floor, beside her hip. At first she wasn’t sure what his intention was, but then he gave his next command and everything became clear.

  “Lick it up, slave.”

  Liandra was too weak to rise onto her knees. Like a worm, she rotated herself, sliding her belly and tits along the floor. He was like a god ranging over her. She flicked her tongue over the surface of the damp linoleum, lapping at the globs of white semen.

  “Miss any of it and I’ll beat your ass raw, Lee,” he informed her.

  She worked diligently, being sure to show the proper respect and servility. He made her lick long after the semen was gone.

  “Get up,” he ordered. “On all fours.”

  She rose to hands and knees. Her limbs were like rubber.

  “Finish the floor,” he said. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  She waited until he was at the door. “Master?”

  “What is it, girl?”

  “Will you be gone long?”

  “You have work to do,” he said, not unkindly. “You need to concentrate on it.”

  “Yes, Master, sorry, Master.” Liandra lowered her head.

  For some reason she was bubbling over as she cleaned the rest of Kyle’s floor. She hummed a tune to herself as she scrubbed. She wanted to have a climax, but she knew she must wait. Kyle had granted her many privileges this morning already. She’d kissed and licked his balls and his ass; she’d been allowed to lap his semen from the floor.

  Perhaps at some later point he might do something else to her, dousing her with his warm golden nectar?

  Oh, yes, lots to wait, lots to dream about.

  She did wonder about her phone. Kyle had taken it away from her for the weekend, along with her clothes. If Rave was calling, she wouldn’t know. Not that she cared. Would she be able to explain any of this to him?

  Virgil would understand. He was open minded, a pure, free spirit, and a natural master. Maybe he would help her sort things out. She could call him and they’d have coffee again.

  For now, though, she needed to get this floor perfect...for Master.

  A smile came over her face, unbidden, natural and totally unstoppable.

  She was still smiling when Kyle came back in the kitchen, freshly scrubbed and smelling of soap and musk. He was wearing jeans and black boots along with a t-shirt. She put her head to the floor in obeisance at the sight of him.

  “Not bad,” he teased examining the floor. “Do you do windows?”

  “The slave does what Master commands,” she said.

  Kyle chuckled. “Run along, girl, take a shower for me.”

  “Yes, Master.” She rose lightly to her feet.


  Interpreting the command literally, she dashed straight to the bathroom. She didn’t know if she had a time limit, but she took no chances. There was a nice, full bar of soap in the shower and some herbal shampoo, unisex. She applied a thick gob of it to her hair and scrubbed it clean.

  The water sluiced down her sore body, enlivening and energizing her. She hoped she would be stronger, refreshed for Master and ready for whatever he wished to do next.

  She was sorely tempted to masturbate, but something told her that would be wrong. She’d need permission for that sort of thing...

  It was hard to resist as excited as she was, but she managed. Just touching her nipples made them hurt and ache to be suckled and pinched by a man. She couldn’t even go near her belly without moaning, imagining Master taking her hard against the shower wall, belly to the tile, having his way with her cunt.

  She would beg him for more, wanting it...harder and harder.

  After the shower, she dried herself thoroughly and began to look for some deodorant. He had some, a bit masculine, but it would have to do for now. If only he had some body spray or perfume or something.

  Imagine that, she thought, vanity in a slave girl...

  “Are you done yet?” He was knocking at the door.

  How polite, given that she had no right to keep it closed against him. “Yes, Master,” she said. “I’ll be right there.”

  She opened the door to him, instantly overwhelmed by his masculine presence, a lean, wall of muscle, not too big or too small, just right for handling a female such as herself.

  “You look so gorgeous, Master.”

  “The slave needs glasses,” he quipped, raising a brow.

  She giggled, melting into his arms.

  She was about to tell him something, words that hovered at her lips. She held back. It was too soon, wasn’t it? How could she know such a thing?

  Nevertheless, the fact remained; she had quite nearly said I love you...

  Her mind reeled with the implications.

  If it wasn’t really love, what was it?

  Some kind of reaction to the sexual domination? But she’d been dominated before. Granted, not with such thorough mind-blowing efficiency, but she wasn’t a virgin, either. Virgil was a consummate master, but she didn’t love him. Rave was domineering, to the point of being obnoxious and she certainly felt lots of things for him, helpless things, but love, no, probably not.