Her body was screaming for release. The vibe poised at the entrance to her pussy was an annoying thrum, His finger, Joe’s finger, poised once again over her clit was a heated torch just hovering, waiting to turn her molten.
Her mouth was open in a silent scream, and he leaned forward and plucked out the panties that he’d stuffed in there earlier.
It was all he said, but the shame of it washed through her. That she was going to submit, going to beg, plead, grovel for her neighbor to finish her, fuck her, finger her…anything to get her over the edge of the cliff that he’d been driving her up for the last 30 minutes or more.
Time stood still when you were blindfolded.
And crawled when a clamp secured your right nipple.
A nipple that he had been pulling and squeezing and rolling and tugging on, making her whimper, cry, and moan. Pain, and its companion, lust helped to drive her onwards, upwards. The pulse that beat in her pussy must surely be audible. She felt the steady drool from her cunt, proof that she could no longer deny. She was a submissive.
“Pl..please…” her voice broke, faltered. She swallowed once, twice.
“You call that begging? Fucking ducks beg for bread better than that, slut.”
“please Sir, please, please…”
“What, slut, be specific.” She heard the smile in his words. The voice of her kindly neighbor. Only…more.
“Please Sir, fuck me. I want your cock in my pussy.”
There was a long pause, a silent battle. She was a good girl. A good girl, alone but for the suddenly Dominant neighbor whose finger was gently, barely, stroking her clit. Good girls didn’t call their pussy…they didn’t…”
Her head tossed from side to side, and he watched the blush flush across her throat, painting her breasts from her self-torment. He wanted to push her through this door, the last one to show her, show him, who ran this game.
“in…..my…..cunt” Her voice was barely above a whisper now.
“Slut, put it all together now and tell me what it is you want.”
She thought she heard his zipper slide down, the faintest whisp of fabric sliding from skin. She was certain, a moment later, that she felt his cock against her thigh as he moved close to her, that taunting finger back in place, hovering above her clit, then lightly stroking it, then hovering.
of a sudden, the need flooded her, overwriting years of ‘proper’ behaviors. The zing of that need charged her clit, her brain to near overload…and she was swept along that flood, freed.
“I want you to fuck my cunt, Master, i need you to fuck me, Sir.
She nearly wept her frustration, but this time, her voice firmer, stronger, needier,
“I need you to fuck my cunt, Master. Please, Sir, please, i beg of you, please fuck your slut.”
“My slut. Has a nice ring to it, Drea. Very, very nice.”
“One more time, now, slut, with meaning…”
she groaned in her mind…not again, not when she was so fucking needy…not when she knew that he understood what was happening here…that now, he owned her. Her sex, her need, her body…. she opened her mouth and said the words she knew he wanted her to understand.
“i am your slut, Master. Please, Sir, please….”