Late Classes

As days passed on after our brief sex moment in the university, I kept waiting for his call. I went on with my life, studied, met him two times a week on late classes, but as there were always colleagues, we never had a chance to discuss what happened between us.

Then, one Saturday morning, I received the call I (can freely admit now) was waiting for.

"Hey there little slut, are you free today?" - He asked.

A good way to start a conversation, is it not? Oh well, hard to resist anyway.

"Yes, Sir," - I answered.

Now would be a proper time to remark that I was addressing him "Sir" as a courtesy, though I did liked the sound of that word even then.

"Would it be convenient for you to come to my apartment for a more prolonged... lesson?"

"Of course, Sir. Where would you like me?"

"The address is ..."

Two hours later I was on a taxi and on my way to his place, as promised. He lived in a fine neighborhood with 24-hour security on his building, in case there was any doubt. Nothing like the apartment I could afford to rent, which was barely containing itself from its own destruction, the only thing holding it being the concrete construction and my gentle care. Including some not-so-gentle repairs, nonetheless.

As I entered his apartment, I could feel the lack of a woman's touch. It was clean, but I wouldn't call it cozy, the furniture being mostly made of black leather and dark wood. It was, in a way, sexy, which was probably what he was going for anyway.

He had just made coffee, so we decided to have some of it and we sat on the black leather couch. First few minutes were kind of awkward, since we were almost complete strangers. As he had only his boxer briefs on, it was hard to concentrate on anything but his impressive pack anyway.

"So, how are your studies?" he asked.

"Very well, thank you. I heard that you were picking a student every year, shall I consider myself the chosen one this year?" - I was very straightforward, as the past 3 years of Law had taught me some bravery.

"Do not consider yourself exclusive by any means, please. You heard wrong - I pick a few beautiful and intelligent little sluts like you every year and I fuck them. No relationships, just some nice fuck. If you can handle the idea that you're not my one and only, fine. If not - you know where the door is. I have no intention of buying engagement rings in the next few years; I just want to have fun."

That was hurtful, but it was the brutal honest truth and I admired that. Here are the terms, if they suit you, conclude the deal in good faith. I never wanted an emotional relationship anyway; "nice fuck" worked for me.

"Okay, I agree."

"I can't wait to fuck you deep and wet, then."

"One more thing," he added. "How do you feel about some BDSM?"

"I always wanted to try it," I was honest. "But never had the chance to, as none of my ex-boyfriends was into the lifestyle. I've looked some BDSM porn and websites, though."

"Great," he said. "So you know about safe words (I prefer to stick to a simple "Stop!") and the rules of the game. Then I'll like for you to continue calling me "Sir", and only that."

"Yes, Sir."

He was leaning to kiss me, a deep and passionate, long kiss. When he pulled back, I was already starting to get wet. Oh my, what a man!

He started kissing my neck while his hand was going down for my breasts. He teased the left nipple a bit with his fingers, and after that, unexpectedly, pinched it hard, as hard as anyone had ever done to me before. I took a sharp breath and sensed him smile between kisses on my neck.

He did that several times, after which my nipples were feeling extremely sensitive against the D cups of my bra, and my wet panties started getting uncomfortable. Thankfully, he sensed my impatience and started undressing me, while kissing and touching my whole body. After I was completely naked, he said:

"Now get on your knees before me."

"Yes, Sir."

I stepped from the couch and kneeled before him, perfectly ready to suck his hard and growing cock. As I started to, he grabbed my head and started pushing himself to the back of my throat, back and forth, until I gagged.

"With enough practice you'll learn not to gag," - he said, smiling. "I do intend to give you a lot possibilities to practice your deepthroating on me, slut."

"As you wish, Sir."

He stood up and said, "I would like to give a gift to my new little slut, make her remember her place around here. Remain on your knees and wait for me!"

"Yes, Sir," I responded quietly. I was impatient to be nicely fucked by my new Domme, but wouldn't risk and say anything. I knew enough about the lifestyle to figure that might not be a good idea.

When he came back, he brought a leather collar which he put on my neck. On it with big metal letters was written "PET".

"That's for you, slut. You now are my pet, my toy; I would expect you to behave like one. In exchange I will give you more orgasms and pleasure than you've ever imagined possible."

"Thank you, Sir."

I knew that he would prefer not hearing me talk, but moan, and decided to focus on that. This was pretty much effortless, given that afterwards he ordered me to kneel on the black leather couch, facing towards its back, and gave my butt some good whipping. I was crying out in both pain and ecstasy, and after he was satisfied, he started fucking me doggy style. I felt a new jab of pain each time his pelvis hit my now red butt, but it was truly pleasurable. I had an orgasm little bit before him (after being given permission, of course) and it was the first time I've ever received one without any additional stimulation of my clitoris.

Afterwards we just lay on the ground, staring at the ceiling and giving the time to our bodies to relax and start breathing normally. Little drops of sweat were sparkling on his dark skinned body, which, I noticed, was not as slender as I initially though. His muscles weren't as visible as those of men who regularly work out, but apparently were no less efficient. He seemed strong. I decided it was about time to say something:

"Thank you, Sir, that was how I always wanted to be fucked."

It was the truth; just now I became absolutely certain of it.

"You are more than welcome, you're a very good slut yourself," he answered, and looked at me with his deep black eyes, that were never revealing his true thoughts.