All Women Are Bitches

Five o'clock. The magic hour. I can finally shed my disguise and resume my true form. By day, I work in an office building. I'm a lawyer and a damned good one at that. On top of being good at my job, I'm actually even pretty. I stand five feet ten inches tall, thick-bodied, wide-hipped and big-bottomed. But my face is gorgeously pretty. I'm a big, beautiful and fabulous woman. And I am proud of myself. Plus I'm a porcelain-skinned redhead with Irish roots. What's not to like? Exactly. Who am I? Delia Carver is my name. At least in the outside world.

When night falls, my disguise falls away and I am transformed. Changed by the sheer power of my Master. The one who changed me from nothing into a glorious submissive. How I met him is a strange and fascinating tale. I've met lots of men who didn't light my fire. They lacked something. Oh, they were good-looking, intelligent and wealthy. But they were nothing like my Master. The moment I laid eyes upon him, I knew. He carried himself differently from other men. He was a tall, good-looking black man. He wore simple clothes. He was distinguished in many ways. And he was a perfect example of true masculinity and power.

When I walked over to him and introduced myself, he ignored me. I had never been treated like this by any man. He was something else. His arrival at the office was noticed by every female on the premises. The Master simply exudes raw masculine power and sexual appeal. Women respond to that, whether we like to admit it or not. Deep down, especially where sex is concerned, we're no different from men. At least they admit that sex is a powerful drive in their lives. Women are slaves to their passions, and yes, their pussies, yet cannot admit it. Must be why we're all so damn crazy. Anyway, after gazing at the Master, I knew that I had to have him. How foolish and naïve I was. The Master was freedom and masculine virility personified. He could not belong to anyone, man or woman. He took whatever he wanted. The Master was forthrightly bisexual. Legions of gorgeous women and handsome men competed for his affections. He took what he wanted and left. That was his way. He's a real man.

The Master walked differently from other men. He was more alluring and more graceful. He looked better in a simple black silk shirt and dark gray pants than some rich businessmen and businesswomen did in their fancy suits. The man simply had it going on, as they say. Women at the office talked about him a lot. Of the forty female lawyers of this hundred-attorney law firm, only ten were single. Yet all of us were going crazy over him. The sight of the Master was enough to dampen our panties. We wanted him. We lusted after him. We dreamed of him. We threw ourselves at him.

And he continued to ignore us.

The Master is used to having his way. He's sexy, bold and intelligent. I did some research on him. In a past life, the Master was known as Alexander Graham Brownstone. The son of Graham Brownstone, the world's first African-American billionaire. Graham Brownstone made a fortune in real estate during the late 1990s and early 2000s. The family patriarch had a school named after him, the Brownstone Institute of Technology, located in Graham's native Florida. Brownstone Tech opened its doors as a four-year institution of higher education in 1999 with only five hundred students. By 2004, the student body numbered sixteen thousand. Brownstone Tech focused mainly on science education such as engineering, computer science and chemistry. In 2005, the school opened its Department of Athletics. Brownstone Tech sponsors Men's Basketball, Bowling, Baseball, Tennis, Cross Country, Lacrosse, Ice Hockey, Golf, Football, Track, Soccer, Wrestling, Swimming and Volleyball. They also sponsor Women's Basketball, Bowling, Softball, Tennis, Golf, Cross Country, Lacrosse, Ice Hockey, Rugby, Track, Soccer, Wrestling, Field Hockey and Volleyball. His wife Francine Goth Brownstone was a distinguished former United States Senator.

Their son Alexander was destined to become a pillar of society. He attended the Georgia Institute of Technology and had a degree in engineering. He started his own company and made a bundle. Then he turned leadership of it over to his sister, Harvard-educated businesswoman Lucille Brownstone. Alexander Brownstone began traveling the world. He hunted lions in Africa. He fought warlords in third world countries. He skydived. And he made love to sexy women and the occasional sexy man. He never hid himself from society. He was America's Favorite Bad Boy. The world's first openly bisexual African-American billionaire. The man who could have everything. Isn't life cool?

Yes, Alexander Graham Brownstone and the Master were one and the same. How do I catch the man who has everything? The Master seldom went for people beneath his station. And I was far beneath him in every way. I was in love with him. And I felt unworthy of him. He was a chronically bored thrill seeker. So I offered myself as his new plaything. To be used as he wished and then discarded without a second's thought whenever he felt like it.

Not something most women would consider. However, I was in awe of the Master. He wasn't simply a rich and sexy stud in my eyes. He was more like a god to me.

A god among men. And I wanted to worship at his altar.

There were rules, of course. Everything that happened between us was confidential. Under strict penalties I don't dare mention. Also, he had to have complete control over me. I wasn't to be a loud mouth. Or a nosy bitch. Or an opinionated woman. I was to be his slave. His plaything. The Master's very own personal bitch and doormat. What do you think I said to these terms? A resounding yes, on all counts! I wanted to experience something I never had before. To hell with society's rules and conventions. I wanted to be my Master's bitch!

My Master brought me to his dungeon and had some fun with me. He bound me hand and foot with chains on a large wooden bench. I was on all fours, my thick and sexy body glistening in the darkness. The Master held a leather whip in his hands. He lashed out and struck me with the whip. I yelped in surprise. It left red marks on me. Laughing, he continued to whip me. I screamed. The whip really hurts. And it cracks like lightning. The Master continues to beat me with his whip. He lashes me all over my back and my waist, hips and buttocks. My pale pink skin is turning bright red. And he's loving it. Next, he lights up several candles and lets the hot wax drip all over me. I feel the hot wax on my back, breasts, buttocks, etc. It burns. The Master hears me complain and swiftly administers punishment. He whips me on top of waxing me in his special way. I scream in pain. Laughing, he smacks me. Hard. I stop screaming. He nods quietly. We're about to try something else. As usual, I'm all for it.

I am still bound and on all fours, but I feel my plump butt cheeks being spread wide open. And something cold and slick is being applied on my anus. I don't need to turn around to know what's happening. My Master tells me in a very calm voice that I am about to get fucked in my fat ass. Before proceeding, he does something out of the ordinary. He places a paper bag over my head. It has holes in it for me to see and breathe. This is definitely different. I am thrilled, and a bit scared. Especially when I feel something hard and stiff press against my butt hole. With a swift thrust, my Master penetrates me. I was gritting my teeth in expectation of the pain, which was great in spite of the lubricant. Nevertheless, I howled. Oops. There goes my anal virginity. The Master places his hands upon my hips and thrusts deeper into me.

As he rams his cock into my tunnel of darkness, I scream. It hurts, damn it. More than I thought it would. And he's being none too gentle about it either. But I like the rough stuff. I get off on it. The Master's cock is filling up my tight asshole. I feel like I am stretched to the limit. Like I can't take anymore. Yet his cock is plunging deeper inside me and expanding my ass with every thrust. He is the invading conqueror. And he's taking no prisoners. So I do the only thing I can do. I relaxed, and enjoyed. Getting fucked in the ass with a paper bag over my face was getting my pussy seriously wet. I was practically a puddle down there, and getting wetter by the minute. As for the Master, he slammed into me mercilessly. He was owning my ass and made damn sure I knew it. We went at it like this until he came, sending his hot manly seed deep inside of me.

I got to tell you, feeling his hot cum rushing inside my ass was like no other feeling in the world.

I remain postured like this. On all fours. Bound and completely docile. I've been seduced, taken in hand, controlled and royally fucked in the ass. How do I feel? Well, side from the pain in my ass and the nervous twitching in my pussy, I feel like a million bucks. I was completely dominated by a macho man and I absolutely loved it.

What do you think my Master did afterwards? A sensible person would unbind me and let me go, after thanking me for a night of fun. The Master simply left me there. He left the dungeon and returned hours later. Only then did he unbind me and release me. What do you think I did? I fell on my knees before him and gave him my thanks. He laughed and simply told me to be there at the same time next week.