"He asked me to marry him today," she mumbled as my cock hit the back of her throat.
"Did you accept?"
"Yes," she replied as I unleashed my cum into the back of her throat with a satisfied moan.
Immediately she fell back to her knees, placed her hands behind her back and tentatively licked the remnants of cum from my wilting member.
"How may your worthless, pathetic fuck toy serve you now Master?"
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It had started eight years ago in University. We had been each other's first, we had explored what turned us on and what didn't. Over the course of our year together we tried everything -- oral, rimming, she fucked my ass, I fucked hers, spankings, watersports, wax, bondage -- everything in every permutation at least once.
Eventually we found our rhythm though and what gave us both the most satisfaction was when I humiliated her, degraded her, treated her like a piece of meat to wrap my cock around. We did this for six months straight -- the best six months of my life.
Our sex life had a perfect pattern in those six months. The second she entered my dorm room she stripped, she knelt and she asked me to do to her the most perverted thing she had thought of since I last saw her. If it turned me on I did it, if not she got punished. Sometimes punishment was physical, mostly it was mental -- I sent her away to think of something better.
She was clever though and always kept the extra filthy ideas for special occasions. Birthdays, Christmas, Easter were filled with perverted pleasure -- it was as if she switched herself on, went into so called sub-space and just offered herself up to every sexual whim she thought a man could have.
And then it suddenly ended. University over, she got a job in one city, I another. We knew a long-distace thing wouldn't work and so we went our separate ways. Of course she made sure our last day together was memorable.
She entered my room, stripped and knelt. Her 36Ds looked bigger than ever, perkier and more robust. Her left breast still bore a black bruise from the day before when she had asked me to beat her with her own stilettos. Her pubes were still shaped into an arrow that pointed at her already wet hole.
In a calm confident voice she said "Please sir, will you forever mark your fuck cow? I want you to design a tattoo and tell me where I should have it placed."
Well that was certainly new. Ordering her to start her daily worship on my toes I grabbed a piece of paper and started to doodle. Having dismissed any overtly sexual motifs -- cocks, fucking couples and the like -- I decided to play on the theme of fuck cow. I drew an old fashioned milk churn and added 'FC' as a brand. I looked down at the girl sucking the sweat from my feet and asked "Left or Right?"
"Left, sir."
I handed her the design, "I want this on the underside of your left tit."
"Yes Master, your fuck cow will be forever branded as you wish".
After eight more hours of degrading the girl of my dreams, that was it, she was gone. We didn't meet up for old time's sake, we went cold turkey. I never saw the tattoo although I always knew she would have it, she was that kind of girl.
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Six years later everything changed and I have LinkedIn to thank. Like most business people I created a profile, linked to a few people and got very little out of the experience. No interviews, no job offers, nothing beyond an occasional update informing me someone far more incompetent than I had just got a fabulous new job. Morrissey was right we do hate it when our friends become successful.
