Emma sat at the computer, naked, reading and replying to her e-mails. Her Master stood behind her, looking over shoulder, his hands on her hot flesh. She was his for a whole a weekend. When he had suggested that they spend the Friday evening to Sunday afternoon together, there had been no hesitation in her mind. She had relived the last time together (Emma's Tale Ch 2) so often that she was desperate to experience again his real life control.
It only took a brief memory of his anger and punishment, his deep use of her bottom for Emma to feel the wetness flow and her cunt to twitch. Two months of e-mails, texts and phone calls had followed, and she was now primed and ready, eager to submit to any and all desires of her Master who understood her so well.
At work, all that Friday, her panties had been drenched with her juices. Only her Master's explicit command had kept her from visiting the toilets in order to rub her cunt until the blessed release of cumming. On the bus home she was sure that every male could see her sexual hunger and need, and could smell the scent of her arousal on the air. Her nipples were tender points, raw from rubbing erect against her bra.
As she stood outside the door of the flat, immediately before putting the key in the lock, she breathed a prayer.
"Please may he be here already. Please may he be as hungry for me as I am for him. Please may I be the perfect slave he longs for and desires."
As she stepped through the door, her heart leapt. He was there, standing in front of her, in the hallway of her flat.
Before she could say anything, though, he reached out and dragged her roughly into the corridor. From the intent look in his eyes she could tell that his desire for her matched her own longing. As he pulled her roughly into his arms – slamming the door on the envious world, she let herself fall under his spell once more.
Her Master was like a man possessed. As his hot lips and tongue ravished her mouth, his hands roamed her body, squeezing, molding, possessing her - every inch of her flesh, every curve and every orifice. She felt his hardness pressing against her, a hot iron bar searing her skin. Her body was bathed in fire, and she clung to him with answering passion. She rejoiced at the need she evoked in him, the need to bend her willing flesh to his will, the need for him to fill her compliant flesh with his seed.
He stood back, holding her at arm's length, his blue eyes lancing deep into her soul. She stood proud in her service, and yet humbled at this opportunity to serve.
Seeing her willingness, he proceeded to rip the clothes from her. This act of naked aggression sent shivers through her body. Never had she seen her Master so focused and deliberate in fulfilling his wants. She remembered the prayer she had uttered before opening the front door, and she committed herself to her willing slavery, whatever his wishes for her.
Once all her clothes had been torn from her, leaving only her shoes on her feet, he spoke.
"This weekend you have said that you wish to be mine. You have pledged yourself to serve me in any way I choose. You have expressed a desire to be punished and used in private and in public. Standing here, I am giving you an opportunity to reconsider your request. If you really want me to be your Master this weekend, then kneel before me now, and present yourself as the slave you have described to me. If not, then give me the safe word, either Amber to stop now and talk, or Red for me to leave."
Emma wondered at the self control her Master was exerting. She knew how passionate he was, how urgent was his need for her. His cock was stiff with desire in his trousers. And yet, while she was standing naked before him, he was offering her the opportunity to stop this. And he meant it. She trusted him completely, and knew that he would never do anything beyond what she also desired. He was willing to let go of this weekend if she was not completely in accord with his plans.
His restraint served to unbind any last reservations she might have had. In one fluid movement she knelt before him, spreading her knees and crossing her wrists behind her.
"Master, I am so happy you are here. My body, my heart and my soul are yours."
He stood silently, gazing down at this woman who offered her feminine softness so utterly. Her head was tilted back, draping her hair over her shoulders, and exposing the vulnerability of her throat. As her shoulders thrust back, they lifted the fullness of her breasts, and their stiff points signaled her own sexual needs. Her spread legs were a sign that her sex and her back passage were always open to him.
Never had anyone matched his longings so well. He stepped forward, and his voice was thick with need as he spoke.
"Then my first desire is that you take me into your mouth and serve me until I spend myself down your throat."
Emma reached out to her Master, and slowly pulled down the zip. Gently and reverently, she freed his hard manhood from the clothing, her eyes fixed on the rod that she worshipped so keenly. She drew her fingers lightly up the shaft, and then traced that same path with her tongue. From the sac at the base to the spongy tip, she licked upwards in one slow movement. With those same gentle fingers she pulled the foreskin away from the smooth head and with tender care she licked around the ridge, and then up and over to the smiling mouth at the very tip, sometimes stopping to place kisses on the scepter that ruled her so well.
As her hands slid down to encompass the root, her mouth opened to receive the more sensitive head. With her tongue maintaining its contact, she pushed down slowly, engulfing him until he was buried at the back of her throat. She heard his hiss of approval, and her sex moistened, a flame burning between her thighs.
With infinite care, she slid her lips up the silky skin, and then pushed back down, all the while keeping a gentle suction and wetness on the flesh she suckled. Gradually she increased the speed, until her head was inscribing long penetrating strokes, twisting her head so as to vary the points of maximum contact. Even though this was for her Master, her own lust was growing with every movement, and there were juices seeping onto the floor between her legs.
Her Master placed his hands on her head, and commenced his own thrusting movements. These were gentle at first, giving her time to adjust to his pushing against her throat as she took him into her mouth.
Over the last two weeks, Emma had been teaching herself to accept her dildos into her throat without gagging. The thought of her Master's pleasure had driven her to try and try again even when the task seemed impossible. Eventually she learned how to swallow and relax so that the intruder slid in all the way. So it was that Emma gave herself to this Man, and allowed his hands and hips to drive his rigid flesh so far into her that her nose was in his pubic hair. The joy she felt was so intense it almost triggered her own climax, and she hummed in ecstasy around the stretching maleness.
Her sounds and complete openness pushed him over the edge. With a long drawn out groan, his need boiled up and into her waiting throat. The sensations were so intense that his legs nearly buckled. She swallowed gently as his spunk jetted into her, and the muscles milked him almost to pain. He spent himself thoroughly into her, his need and frustration at being parted from his beloved Emma temporarily sated.
At the last, she released him from her throat, and held his softening cock in her mouth, cleaning the last of his cum from him with her ever busy tongue.
He stooped to his adored slave, and drew her to her feet.
"That was so wonderful my pet. I am so blessed to have found you."
He drew her into his arms and kissed her passionately. Her own need was now insistent, and she could feel her moisture cooling the insides of her thighs. But she knew that it wasn't her place to draw attention to it. He would know from her scent what she needed. She felt his strong knowing hand cup and squeeze a breast and pull one of the nipples until she was moaning into his mouth. That same hand then quested downwards, over the curve of her belly, until it molded to the swell of her mons. His middle finger inserted itself into her molten core, her slick flesh an open highway to him. The palm of his hand was slowly rubbing her engorged clit, and the finger edged ever closer to her g-spot. Despite herself, she felt her hips buck against him, grateful for even this contact if it meant she could cum.
But just as she could feel the waves build for their final surge, he stopped.
She sobbed in frustration, so needful of his touch.
"Not yet my pet, not yet. You have other things to do before this reward."
How well he understood her need for delay, for tension, for the sweet pain of unconsummated desire.
"Come, check your e-mails and talk with your friends. Let me just be with you for a while."
So she sat, reading and chatting, while her Master toyed with her flesh and kept her poised in her arousal. At times, his soft torture of her breasts and nipples were so much that all she could do was to close her eyes and lean her head back against him. Those soft globes were pulled and stretched, squeezed and pressed together, lifted and gently slapped so that they swung away and then returned obediently for more attention.
At one point he left her there so that he could prepare some food. Then, together, at the table, they sat and ate and drank. Such was her wonder at having her Master actually present that Emma felt no need to speak; she was content merely to be there. He, meanwhile, drank in the sight of her as hungrily as he demolished his food.
After the light meal and after the Master had cleared away the dishes, he took his dining chair, and placed it facing the sofa. From an overnight bag he lifted a package. As Emma watched in silence, she felt her heart thud as she understood what he was doing. He had brought along his camera. They had discussed a website where he would display photographs of her being opened and used for his pleasure. The prospect had excited her, and here it was becoming a reality. To protect her identity, and to demonstrate the seriousness of his intention, he had also brought along a party mask, shaped like a bird's head with exotic feathers.
"Come over here my slave. I want you to put on this mask and sit facing me, your hands linked behind your neck."
Without a word Emma did as she was commanded. She felt herself in a trance, knowing that his attention was now fully on her, and that she was his for the evening.
"I want you to perform for me. I want you to use your hands and fingers on your body. As I photograph you, I want others to see what an obedient slut you are for me. I want them to see you masturbate to orgasm for me. I want them to see your wet leaking cunt, and I want them to see at least two fingers buried in your tight arsehole."
Emma's stomach contracted in lust at the crudeness of his words. He was going to display her, show her off, expose her need to the world, and her cunt was crying with joy at the idea of it.
"And then, I am going to take pictures of you being tied up and spanked. I am going to bind you to the table where we ate, and I am going to take pictures of your arse going red, and fingers in your cunt and your bum hole."
Emma nearly came at this, her breath quick with desire.
"But best of all, I am going to take pictures of my cock sliding into your back passage. People who visit our website will see you bending over and pulling your cheeks apart so that I can sodomise your eager bottom"
