Pathetic
I was sitting at my computer, working on some writing, when Jessica knocked softly at the front door.
I had been on a hot streak that day, getting some serious pages in on my latest novel, and finished the sentence before I responded.
“Yes?” I called. I saw the clock, knew who it was – she was right on time, a very good sign. She and I had only met recently, first on-line, followed a few phone conversations. This was our first face-to-face, and I half expected her to be late just out of the brattiness that plagues most submissives.
“Sir, it’s me,” she said quietly. “It’s Jessica.”
I pushed away from my desk and smiled to myself.
“Who?”
“Jessica from on-line!”
“Tell me what you are.”
There was a brief pause. When she spoke, her voice was even softer. “It’s your whore. Your fuckpig.”
“Oh, Jessica,” I beamed. “Hold on just a minute.”
I went into the bedroom and took a few things out of my ‘war chest’ the drawer under my bed where I kept my sex toys and weapons of flesh destruction. I took my time in setting them about the living room. I fixed myself a drink. I took a small glass plate from the kitchen and slid it under the chair.
I let her wait about five minutes before opening the door.
She was fidgeting, toying with her shoulder-length brown hair, looking back and forth nervously. A wide smile crossed her face when she saw me; a smile that went up into her eyes. I smiled back; her expressive eyes were quite a turn-on for me, as I looked forward to seeing them filled with lust and humiliation.
She wore a loose fitting dress and sandals, per my instruction.
“Hello,” she said brightly. “It’s so good to finally meet you.”
I stepped forward and hugged her lightly. I ran my hand along her back. She wore no undergarments, as per my instruction.
“Come on in,” I told her. I shut and locked the door behind me. She went to the middle of the living room, looking around at my place.
“I really love your apartment,” she said.
I walked past her, plopped down in my chair, and picked up my drink.
“Okay, slut, let’s see it.”
“See what?”
“See my new meat. Take your dress off.”
Your eyes tense up.
“Bitch, don’t disobey me.”
Slowly, she lifted her dress up over her head. She shakes slightly. This is so much for her, too quickly. She expected more of a slow build, I expect. She folded the dress over her arm. She hesitated only a moment before following my command to wad it up and throw it in the corner.
“Take off your flip-flops. You look ridiculous wearing nothing but your shoes.”
She slid her feet out of her sandals and kicked them aside.
“Hands on top of your head,” I snap. “And turn around slowly. All the way around.”
Jessica complied, eyes closed. Her breasts were large and heavy, succulent looking. Her ass, however, was big. Her belly sagged. She was a big girl, no doubt about it. This was something she had been honest about from the beginning, and it wasn’t a problem for me.
There were two roses tattooed on her back, and a blue flower on her foot. She had painted her cute, stubby toes the same shade of blue.
She was completely naked, save the red lipstick, the heavy black eyeliner (of course, per my instructions) and a necklace with a cross on it.
“You didn’t mention you were a cow,” I sneered. “Bend over and spread your ass with your hands. Are those stretch marks? Stand up and face me, you fat fucking piece of shit.”
Her cheeks burned bright red, her eyes still closed, her body still trembling.
“Awwww, what’s the matter? Are you a little embarrassed? You don’t like that I make fun of you? Well what did you expect? Your ass is fat, and you look so pathetic standing there wanting my approval. Open your eyes. Look at me.”
Her eyes are already wet. She has such low self esteem, feels shame so easily. I’m already having a blast. This will be too easy, I think.
“I’m sorry, Master,” she murmured. “I’m s-s-sorry I displease you.”
Standing suddenly, I moved over to her and grabbed a handful of her hair. Her back stiffened, her breath hitch. I slapped her left tit with an open hand, and then the right. I watched them jiggle and sway. I smacked them again and again, until her tits were pink and covered with finger marks.
“Did I do something wrong?” she squeaked.
“Shut the fuck up, cum bucket,” I chuckled. “This isn’t punishment. This is me having fun. That’s why you are here, isn’t it? To amuse me? Open your mouth.”
Her red lips part. I spit right in her face. She gasped.
“Is there a problem?” I whispered.
“N-n-n-no, Sir,” she whispered in return.
“Good,” I smiled. And then, before she knew what was happening, I raised my hand and slapped her across the face. She gasped again. I slapped her three more times, quickly.
That broke it. The tears started to run from her eyes. She wasn’t weeping, but the slaps had opened her up to let loose. Her eyeliner started to run.