Good Girl

Sometime during the night, Jason had come to bed. I didn't hear him, didn't consciously notice until I woke the next morning to find my arm thrown over his side. I laid against his back, my face buried against his toussled curls as I felt his chest rise and fall with each breath. I closed my eyes and settled back in against him, sighing contentedly against his neck.

I had no way of knowing how long had passed when I felt him turn onto his back. I shifted too, moving to rest my head across his chest and was pleased when he raised his hand to brush my hair off my face. I opened my eyes and looked up at him, raising my head. "Good morning," I murmured.

"Morning," he mumbled, stroking my cheek briefly. "That shade of blue is lovely on you, Jenny."

I looked down. "Hmm?" My jersey was red and white. "What do you mean?" I asked him quizzically. He stood up and walked to his dresser, looking into the mirror above it. He gestured for me to follow; I stood and walked over.

"Stand here," he said, pulling me to stand in front of him. He wrapped one arm possessively around my waist, his fingers curling into my hip. The other hand brushed my hair from my face to reveal a bruise on my cheek the size of a dime. My chest swelled with pleasure; he had marked me.

I had marked myself at his behest many times since we first spoken, slapping myself as best I could whenever it was his wish I should be slapped. Rough strikes to my cheek and vicious stripes from a belt were just two of the ways I had marked myself for him. But now he had marked me; I was his. I was ashamed that it came about due to my failure, but I couldn't deny the thrill of seeing the bruise on my cheekbone.

"Thank you, Sir," I whispered, closing my eyes as I felt tears well in them. It was no use; I felt a hot tear escape and roll down my cheek, burning down to my jaw.

"What's wrong?" Jason asked immediately, turning me around to face him. "Did I hurt you too badly, Jenny?" His thumb came up to brush the trail my tear left on my cheek, but that only caused a cascade to erupt from under my eyelids. "Shh, shh," he said. "Tell me what's wrong."

I swallowed and wiped my face on my sleeve. "N-nothing is wrong," I said honestly as Jason wrapped his arms around my waist. He pulled me to his chest. I felt my hot tears dampen his shirt as he pet my hair. The truth was I'd never been happier than I was right then: his. "I've never felt better, Jason."

His finger touched my chin and I instinctively raised my head. He leaned down to kiss me on the lips. It began softly, his lips tender against mine, but grew ever more possessive as he tangled his hand in my hair and pulled me harder against him. After a moment I was forced to draw back, panting against his neck.

He suffered no such shortness of breath as he lowered his lips to my ear and ordered, "Say it now."

There was no question what he wanted to hear. I'd said it many times, spoken it aloud and typed it out. There was no hesitation in my heart as I breathed luxuriously against his ear, "I love you."

His fingers stroked my hair and smiled that cruel, alluring smile of his down at me. "Good girl. Now go take a shower while I take care of my morning business."

"Yes Sir," I answered, turning towards the bathroom.

"Jenny?" he asked, snatching my hand before I could go out of arm's length. I turned back to him, eyebrow raised. He smiled hesitantly. "A few things." He sat on the edge of the bed and patted his knee. I immediately sat, grimacing at the pressure on my sore ass. "First, you may not climax in the shower. You can touch yourself only insofar as you need to bathe."

"Of course," I said, blushing. God, I hadn't thought of touching myself in the shower til now. It would've been much easier if he hadn't mentioned it.

"Are you wondering why I didn't say it back?" he asked, his eyes staring into mine. I shook my head. "Answer me. Did it bother you?" he demanded impatiently.

"I'm sorry, Sir. No Sir."

"Why?"

That was simple. "Because I know you do, whether you say it or not. Because it is not for me to decide what you say or when you say it." I looked down, away from those pale, cruel eyes. His hand stroked my cheek, his thumb brushing across the bruise there. I paused briefly before continuing, "Because I belong to you. Whether you love me doesn't matter. I'm yours until you decide that you've finished with me."

He smiled lightly, stroking my cheek. I turned my head to kiss his palm before looking back up at him. "Good answer," he said. "It so happens that I love you, Jenny. Now go get ready." He stood us up and swatted me roughly on the ass to get me moving.

"Yes Sir, thank you Sir," I said, almost skipping into the bathroom, his words echoing in my mind. Fifteen minutes later I stepped out of the shower to see him standing at the mirror, brushing his teeth. He nodded at me and spit the toothpaste out, then turned and took the towel out of my hand.

"Let me get a look at you," he said, turning me so I was standing in front of him at the mirror. He gently dried me off, examining my body as he did. His hand slid over my back, across my side, around to my chest. He cupped both my breasts, his thumbs playing over my nipples. A jet of heat raced through my stomach and headed south. "Do you like that?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," I confessed, arching my back to press my hips back against him. The flannel of his boxers was rough against my skin. His hands slid down my chest, across the flat expanse of my stomach, to grip my hips. His fingertips were dangerously close to my pussy. "Master, please," I whispered.

"Please what?" he asked, carefully towelling off my stomach before sliding the towel down to my pussy. The terrycloth was exquisite against my lips and clit; he knew just what pressure to apply to make me whimper.

"Please don't," I gasped. "You'll make me come and I don't have permission. Please!"

"But this is fun," he said wickedly, dropping the towel to his other hand. He began to dry my legs as his now-free hand spread my pussy lips. "Spread your legs, Jenny."

I whimpered but obeyed. "Please, Master, please let me come," I panted as he slid his middle finger inside my virgin pussy.

"God, you're tight," he whispered, his fingers pushing the towel roughly down my thigh. "Your little toy is the biggest thing you've had inside your cunt?"

I blushed and nodded. "Whenever it was your pleasure to order me to," I said, biting my lower lip. "Master, did you hear me? Please, I'm--"

"I heard you," he said harshly, pushing his thumb up hard against my clit. I gave a pitiful whimper. "Not yet, Jenny. Not yet." And he abruptly pulled his hand from my pussy.

I was devastated and relieved, torn between begging him to touch me again and thanking him for stopping the torture. I remained silent until he turned me around to face him. He dropped the towel and lifted me effortlessly onto the vanity counter. "Mmm," he said, kneeling to inspect my pussy. "Nice and bare, just as I ordered. Very good."

He leaned forward and lapped at my clit briefly before straightening. He dropped his boxers; his hard cock bounced in front of me. I stared at it, my mouth watering; God, I wanted him. He took my chin in his hand and made me look up at him. "For now...for this one time...you don't need to ask me for permission, Jenny. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir," I said, unable to keep the confusion from my voice. He wrapped his arms around my waist and drew me closer to the edge of the counter.

"Just...be sweet to me, Jenny," he breathed against my neck before leaning in to kiss me on the lips. His tongue emerged from his mouth to run across my bottom lip; I kissed his tongue, sucking gently. So engaged was I in his kiss that I barely noticed his cock rubbing against my thigh until he slowly pushed it inside me.

I gasped, breaking the kiss to toss my head back. His thickness hurt me as it stretched me, forcing me apart. I groaned in pain, spreading my legs wider. Jason slid one hand down my side to my hip to hold me in place as he pushed into me. His other hand cupped my cheek and neck, eagerly pulling my lips to his again.

He devoured me as he slid inside me until I was pressed flat against him. I could feel his pubic hair tickling my thighs, his balls were warm against my pussy lips. My nipples were hard against his chest, my lips hungry on his. After a moment, he drew his hips back and I wanted to cry; I needed him! He couldn't leave me like this.

I wrapped my legs around his waist. He teasingly slapped my hip and drew away from my kiss to whisper against my ear, "Let go...you'll like it better this way." I reluctantly released his body; he pulled out until just the head was still inside my pussy, then pushed his hips forward again.

If having him inside me was bliss, adding friction was Nirvana. I gave a brief cry of pleasure and surprise before I began to rock my hips with his thrusts. He kissed me, pressed me back against the foggy mirror. I instinctively knew this was different; I was not his slave, his slut, his whore. He was making love to me.

Even so, though it was a different kind of dominance, he was dominating me. He had me; I knew I would do anything to have him, to please him, to satisfy him, to love him. He knew it too. His hand squeezed my hip and pulled me against his chest. Jason whispered against my neck, "God, Jenny, yes."

I came hard, my entire body clenching. My toes curled so tight they almost cramped, and the cry I loosed echoed off the tiled bathroom walls. My pussy flooded and warmed, a veritable volcano of desire now. He grunted as I tightened and spasmed around him. "Good girl," he gasped, leaning in to bite my neck teasingly as he thrust into me.

As I unclenched, his hands both went to my hips, lifting me. I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck, clasping my fingers behind his neck. A moment later he sat on the edge of the bed, still buried inside me. I moaned against his neck, gasping in pleasure as he clenched his legs and pushed up inside me.

"More," I panted just before capturing his lips for another lengthy kiss. His hands, still on my hips, began to guide me, rocking me and pushing me up and down. With each thrust I gave a guttural moan against his lips until he finally broke away and laid back on the bed.

"Just like that, Jenny. Yes, ride me. Ride my cock," he said, staring up at me as I continued to do as he had shown me with his hands. I braced my hands against his chest, my fingers playing across his nipples. I ached to lick them, to take them in my mouth, to worship him while I pleasured him, but I didn't want to lose my pacing.

"I'm coming," I panted, my strokes becoming frenzied and irregular with each passing thrust.

"Come for me," he gasped. I needed no more encouragement as I orgasmed a second time, moaning loudly in pleasure. "Oh yes," he said. He reached up and snagged a few locks of my hair with his hand, pulling my head insistently down to kiss me hard. He bit my bottom lip insistently, his breath coming hastily through his nose until he finally gave a grunt and stiffened.

It was the most wonderful sensation. I felt him swell inside me, like a balloon about to pop and then-- he burst inside me, never pausing our thrusts, painting my entire love canal with his hot seed. I gave a shuddering gasp and collapsed against his chest, panting.

His breath was ragged and hot against my cheek as he pet my head. "Good girl." He held me for several minutes, our chests rising and falling heavily, until we passed some unspoken barrier. Then he said, "Go get dressed, whore, we have things to do."

It took all the strength of will I had to climb off Jason's cock, but there it was: I was his whore and was bound to obey my Master. He slapped my ass hard as I limped past him to go get dressed. He was going to show me the sights; I took it as chance to study what would hopefully become my new home.