The Anniversary Present

Max’s palm made contact with the raw, red skin he’d just beaten. She flinched at the touch. “Nice and red. Good. I hope that hurt. Did it hurt, my little slut?”

She restrained a moan, which escaped slightly in her softly muttered “Yes, Master.”

“Good.” His fingers slid down her buttocks, and slipped between her legs. She dug her short nails into the couch cushions where her hands were still obediently placed, and involuntarily lurched slightly with the feeling of his fingers embracing the outer lips of her pussy. “This is mine. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course, Master.”

“Whose pussy is this?”

“It’s yours, Master. It’s forever yours”

“Ah. Good girl.” He rewarded her by sliding two of his fingers inside of her, so she inadvertently bucked backward against him, forcing his fingers as deeply as they could go. “Fucking cunt,” he snarled. “I bet you want me to fuck you, now, don’t you?”

“Always, Master,” she breathed, and she moved eagerly against his hand. Immediately, he removed himself from her, leaving her hot and bothered and unsatisfied, aching furiously for him to please her. “Oh God,” she moaned. “Please.”

With his hand, still wet from the juices of her needy body, he slapped her ass with maddening force one more time, so she flinched and yelped again. “What do you call me?”

“I’m sorry—Master!”

“And what do you say when I hit you?”

Her eyes were rolling, and her body was undulating with discontented desire. “Thank you, Master,” she sighed in a desperate, worn out tone.

“There’s a good slave,” he said proudly. He sunk his long, wet fingers into her hair again, and pulled her back up. He turned her back around to face him, so she could see his beautiful features again. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, as though he, too, were as breathless as she was. The obvious erection in his pants indicated that she was doing a good job. She smiled proudly to herself as the hand in her hair slid to her cheek, and he patted her warmly. “I want you to strip down to nothing,” he demanded, “and meet me in the bedroom. Understood, slut?”

“Yes, Master,” she replied obsequiously. He leaned forward, and for a moment, she thought he was finally going to kiss her, but she should have known better. This was not the time for kisses; this was the time for delicious belittlement. He pressed his mouth to her throat, instead, and suckled at her tender flesh. When he pulled away a minute later, the area was very sore and red, and he gazed at the little mark as though extremely pleased with himself. He patted her cheek once more, and stepped passed her to leave the room. She took a moment for herself to steady her breathing and to calm herself down as much as possible before removing her shirt and her very rumpled skirt. The cool air was a shock on her bare, sweat-caked skin, and she gasped, instinctively hugging herself close. It took her a few more moments to prepare herself mentally for whatever she was about to endure in the bedroom, and even when she finally worked up the strength to step forward on her shaking legs, she still did not feel entirely certain she’d be able to handle whatever Max was going to submit her to.

When she entered the bedroom, she felt her heart rate increase drastically. She was greeted by the glorious sight of Max’s slick bare chest. He was standing at the foot of the bed, wearing only his black jeans and a dangerous smirk. In one hand he was swinging several long cords of rope threateningly, and in the other, he was holding a wad of black fabric. The flogger lay on the bed behind him. “Come here,” he told her, and she did so slowly, anticipating. “Kneel for me, slut,” he commanded, and she obliged instantly. She fell to her knees with a painful thud, and looked eagerly up at him. He sneered down at her lustfully, and placed the rope and the fabric behind him beside the flogger. “Take my cock in your moth, you dirty fucking whore,” he ordered in a hoarse voice that sent a chill down her spine. Doing just as she was told, she unzipped his jeans and wriggled them down his legs. He kicked them from his ankles as she pulled down his boxers as well with shaking hands. His cock sprung free, hard and reaching for her. She felt her heart leap into her throat at the sight of it. God, how she loved that member. She loved it inside her. If he didn’t fuck her, soon… well, she felt certain she’d go mad.

As he discarded his boxers from around his feet, she curled one hand around the base of his cock and took the head between her lips. He let out an exquisite groan that raised her confidence greatly. Feeling intense pride that she was pleasing her Master, she let him further into her mouth. His resulting moan brought on more wetness between her thighs. She barely had time to please him further on her own when his hand suddenly came to clutch the back of her skull. She tried to whimper, but was cut short as she was unexpectedly forced forward so his cock struck the back of her throat, and she gagged. His hips thrust forward, and at the same time, he forced her head back and forth, hard, so she could not control her own movements, or the depth at which she took him into her mouth. She was gasping and spluttering for air, and tears were welling in her eyes, but he continued to fuck her mouth violently without any attention to her discomfort.

After what felt like forever, just before he came, he finally pulled her back, gripping her hair uncomfortably tightly in his hand. “Master!” she pleaded, squirming under his painful grasp.

“What? Are you going to beg me for mercy, bitch?” His voice was tense with the obviously frustrating urge to blow, but he was holding it in well. “You are mine. You are my whore. My toy to be used as I please. You are nothing. You deserve everything I give you. Isn’t that right, slut?” Her pussy wept with ceaseless desire.

She nodded her exhausted head, feeling the soreness in her jaw. “Yes, Master,” she sighed. “Of course, Master. I am yours, Master. I deserve everything you can give me, Master.”

“That’s right. Now… are you ready for me to fuck you, slave? Are you ready to have me inside that gorgeous, wet cunt?”

Alice groaned, and her eyes rolled behind tightly clenched eyelids. “Oh God, yes, Master. Fuck, please, Master. I need you, Master.”

He laughed coldly, and let go of her hair at last, so she collapsed backwards. Her heaving, throbbing body shuddered as she hit the floor. She opened her eyes again to look up at him as he spoke. He was so beautiful, even when he was torturing her this way. “Well, too bad, bitch. Your sweet little pussy will have to wait a bit longer for my cock. Why don’t you just pleasure yourself, slut? You know you want to. You do want to, don’t you, slave?”

“Yes, Master. Anything you say, Master.”

He smirked. “That’s what I like to hear,” he said with a short chuckle. He sat upon the edge of the bed, his hand slowly running up the length of his cock. She could not take her eyes off of it. “Well,” he said, “get on with it. I want to see you cum for me, slave. But not without my permission.”

Her eyes widened. “Not without your permission, Master?”

Max leaned forward, his gaze stern. “What did I say about questions, my dear little slave?” Her heart seemed to stop, and she bit her lip anxiously.

“I—I’m sorry, Master, I—!” He slapped her face, and the ringing sound resonated through the room. Her cheek stung, and she clutched it, whimpering as her pussy grew steadily wetter. “I’m so sorry, Master.”

He sat back again, looking unconcerned. “I don’t see you touching yourself.”

“Yes, Master,” she said submissively. She sat back, and spread her legs awkwardly. She had never been asked to do this in front of him before. She had never done this in front of anyone before, for that matter. This was something private, to her—too private even for Max’s eyes. But she would do it, because he had asked her, and she loved him, and wanted to make him happy.

He seemed to sense her hesitation, because he said in a surprisingly kind voice, “Don’t be afraid, Alice.”

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