He backed her across the room by her hair. His hand was fisted deeply in her tresses, causing her to wince and moan with the shock and pain of his sudden move on her. She knew she had been overstepping her boundaries of late, and he’d for certain given her the rope to hang herself with. When she told him that she’d be late for their meeting, that she was stuck in traffic, he told her that she should have planned better, she apologied, but apparently that was no longer going to cut it.
“Seems to me I’ve been hearing “i’m sorry Master” quite a bit from those red lips of yours,” he growled into her ear. She was silent, tears forming and falling silently. He pushed her onto the bed, curtly ordered her to lift her short skirt and bare her bottom. She waited, tense and breathless for the first blow to fall. There was nothing. She wanted to peek, to see what he was doing back there, but wasn’t quite daring enough. The silence was deafening, the anticipation, made her shiver with a combination of fear, and lust. She could faintly hear the sounds of traffic in the street below, and her own ragged breathing. She could have been alone in the room for all she knew. But she knew better.
Against the silence of the room, the rasp of a zipper was loud and shocking. His quiet footfalls came closer to where she lay on the bed, a supplicant to his every desire.
“What are you?” he asked, quietly.
“your slave, Master,” she responded.
“Your’s Master, always Yours.”
She felt a pressure against her anus, knew he was putting a butt plug in her ass, prayed it wasn’t the big one. It was. This one was slippery, and he’d used a good amount of lube on it. It had a tendency to pop out at inappropriate times, which was humilating.
“Be sure to hold this in, tight.” he ordered, and then began spanking her. Over and over again his hand struck her ass. It went from warm glow to burning embers, to omg won’t He ever stop. His delivery was measured, unhurried. This was going to last awhile, and she couldn’t push away from the pain, for she might lose her hold on the butt plug. Squeezing down on the plug tightened her cheeks and intensified the blows. The lube added to the challenge, which is what he’d planned from the beginning, she knew. She cried, she begged, she whimpered at the agony of her ass. Finally, he was done. Flipping her skirt down over her glowing asscheeks, he crossed the room and picked up his suitjacket.
“Let’s go out for dinner, pet.”
She looked at him, reproachful. She really needed to be fucked, her cunt was wet and wanting, and her asshole was stretched and hurting. She did not want dinner. She wanted the plug out. She wanted Him inside her.
“And dancing.” He smiled at her, held out his hand.
It was all about him.
It was time she remembered it.