“Easy now. Take this in.” His arm wrapped around her waist, his fingers touching her well-used pussy, guiding in a dildo. She shuddered with the discomfort and yet the desire to please. He’d lubricated it well, and when it pressed against her perineum, she realized it was a double dildo he strapped in place. Then he turned on the vibration feature. She cried out. When he came back around her, keeping his hand on the spreader bar to steady her, he was close, such that her cheek was briefly pressed against his hip. As she turned her face into the soft stuff of his slacks, the strap of his belt, she couldn’t hold back the quiet sob. She was so tired.
“We finish as we start, sweet slave. You suck me off until I come, then I let you rest.”
He didn’t move her back, such that she felt him pull off the belt, unfasten the pants, take down the zipper and the boxers beneath. She parted her lips, reaching for him. When the broad head pushed into her mouth, she sucked on it like a favorite treat, and remarkably it was like that, a pacifier. Yet that thing inside of her, depleted as it was, came to life again. Her Master was ordering her to service him, make him come, and that was what she was going to do.
He didn’t make it easy, but that was part of it, wasn’t it? He held out a long, long time, until she was crying in frustration, her tears bathing her cheeks and his cock, but it also made her even more determined, licking, swirling, sucking, biting. She made a triumphant noise in her throat when she felt the telltale convulsion of the shaft beneath her tongue, felt that first spurt against her throat. With a growl, he pulled out of her mouth, jacked his semen over her breasts. She welcomed the heat of it, the marking, keeping her lips parted to catch the stray drop splashed by the force of it.
She’d lost count of how many times he’d come, but what male could do that and not need IV fluids?
He was tucking himself back into the slacks. The rustle of clothing, a zipper, the clink of the belt being refastened. Dropping to a knee in front of her, he closed his hand over the spreader bar beside her right wrist. His other fingers touched her swollen clit, her cunt lips stretched over that dildo.
She couldn’t. There was no way. But of course Ben didn’t take no for an answer. She made a plea as his mouth closed over her left nipple, began to slowly suck. On their periodic breaks, he’d used different oils and balms to soothe the tissues of her ass and pussy, but she couldn’t come. She just couldn’t, she was so tired.
He was determined, though, teaching her that her mind could make impossible things possible when she surrendered her will to him. From somewhere low in her womb, that spiraling sensation was resurrected, leading to a quiet, shuddering detonation that had her bleating like a lost lamb as he continued to tease and suckle her nipples, squeezing her breasts throughout.
When she was done, he removed the spreader bar, eased her down to the floor, letting her lie on her hip. She was unable to do anything while he removed the double dildo, her mask and collar, the chains, all of it. When she opened her eyes, she couldn’t do more than look up at him from the floor. Straightening, he had turned to pick up wipes and balm from a side table, the things he’d use to care for her, clean her. The shirt was all the way open, pulled free of the belted slacks so she could see the appealing ridges of muscle along his upper torso. External obliques…down to the iliac furrow, that lovely V-cut of muscles that arrowed down into the groin.
Emotions coiled up tight in her chest as she once again remembered her playful teasing with her pre-med roommate. Also known as the Adonis belt, a result of low body fat and tight internal obliques pulling on their origin, the inguinal ligaments highlighted the lower rectus abdominis and external obliques. Tempting the female tongue to trace them down, down… God, she never stopped wanting him.
She managed to roll to her elbow. If he moved back even a step, she wouldn’t make it, but he didn’t. She sensed him turning his attention to her, stilling. Waiting to see what she was about to do. Pulling herself over those few inches, she pressed her mouth to his foot, a hard, fervent gesture. She forced herself back up onto her wobbling knees, slid back into a slave’s posture, hands behind her back, head bowed, breasts thrust out, knees spread. The way she’d begun.
“Thank you, Master,” she said.
I saw your society date for the Spring charity ball on the NOLA online edition. The only thing made in nature on that woman was her cotton underwear.
Don’t be too harsh, brat. We all start out made by nature, but we have to build other faces to survive in this world. Plus, I’m pretty sure she wasn’t wearing underwear. At least, that’s what I heard.
Letter exchange between Ben and Marcie, her sophomore year
Chapter Nine
Having broken subs down to the deepest level, Ben had seen them do a lot of very emotional things, things which fed his need to make them that vulnerable, to prove, at least in that moment, that they trusted him utterly with their naked, shivering souls. He cherished those times, even as he didn’t hold onto them. The point was
