"What did you say?" His hand shot up around my throat, fingers catching the spot just beneath my chin. The pressure was only enough to make my breath catch.
"I said 'no, Master.'" I steeled myself against the spanking that was sure to result. After what seemed at eternity though, I opened my eyes. He hadn't moved, the strangest of expressions lighting his face. It was poised somewhere between fury and delight. I had just granted Him the opportunity to whip me thoroughly but a sadist is more complex than most would recognize.
The master of my body knew all too well that the real punishment would come by not touching me at all. He knew how my body ached for the pain that would cleanse me. He knew how my heart fluttered at the thought that He would find me worthy enough to crack his smooth leather belt across my flesh. Knowing this, His hunger for power consumed Him and he denied me the beating I so deserved.
His hand squeezed and slammed me hard into the wall behind. I felt the blood rushing to my head as I struggled for air.
"Whore," He whispered. "How dare you defy me?"
I mutely shook my head, infinitely sorry. Abysmally regretful for my trespass.
With that, He walked away.
Despite the callous and abrupt conclusion of our meeting, I knew that my disobedience would not go unanswered. At least I desperately hoped it would not. I assumed I was free to go about the mundane chores of the evening and did so. But I nearly wept with the disappointment I felt in myself. He simply had to punish me or I would never feel adequate again.
An hour later, as I was sagging beneath the weight of my failure, certain that I had pushed my master too far, the doorbell rang. Clad in the garter belt, stockings, thong, and corset He always bade me wear around the house, I shrank a little. I could hardly open the door like that. And then, how could I not? One more mistake and my master would surely disown me. So, resolutely stifling my humiliation, I rose and walked to the door.
I was sure that I would find a man on the other side. Another in the endless procession of business partners who dealt with Him. To my surprise though, it was a woman. A young woman with raven hair and full lips. She pursed them at me with a deliberate wink and then brushed past as though this were her home.
"Is my master expecting you?" My voice wavered, pathetically.
"Yes." She smirked and then pouted very innocently and sat demurely on the master's couch. I watched her for several moments, fascinated. Her eyes looked black in the warm light from the fireplace. She wore a crimson sweater of chenille and stiletto-heeled boots that stopped just above her knee. What she wore on her lower half I could hardly qualify as a skirt. At its full length (if one could call it that) it barely reached below her cunt. Now, seated with her legs slightly parted, I could see the velvet folds of her snatch leaving a silky puddle of juice on the black leather.
In short, she was breath-taking. In my confusion, which was shortly followed by my awe, I had lost my composure and had to work a moment to regain it.
"I will let my master know that you have arrived."
He was sitting in his library, Italian leather loafers propped on the mahogany of His desk. He was reading.
I knocked once and waited for His brusque grunt of acknowledgement before entering, eyes downcast. We had not spoken since my impudence had sent Him off to call Raven Hair.
"Master, your lovely guest has arrived." I did not trip on the words because I meant them sincerely. She was quite lovely.
He was quiet for a moment. I heard Him stand and move around from behind the desk. A foot in front of me, He stopped.
"Look at me, my pet." My pet, He'd said. So I was still His. For how long, I could not know but I was not being replaced. So, with hope brimming beneath my skin, my eyes met His.
"You remember how you disobeyed me earlier?"
I felt my stomach lurch and the color drain from my face.
"Yes, Master."
"You are sorry for what you did." He did not ask, only waited for my affirmation.
"Very sorry, Master."
"Good. You shall remain so. In the bedroom, there is a chair. You will go sit in it and you will not move until I say that you may. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Master." I turned to go, hurrying to meet His request. Before I could reach the door His arm snagged my waist, holding my back firmly against His broad chest.
"You do understand, you cum-guzzling slut, that one more impertinent slip could be very dangerous, don't you?" His breath was hot in my ear and tears of concern stung the back of my eyelids.
"Yes, Master," I whispered.
There was a small table to my left. His hand came hard across my ass before I even realized I was bent over it. Once, twice, a third time. A single tear of relief ran down my cheek.
I had seated myself on the overstuffed, maroon suede chair and waited. I could hear Raven Hair's luxurious laugh and the low rumble of the master's voice. It was probably only a few moments, a half hour at most but it seemed like an eternity. Then, Raven Hair entered the bedroom. He was right behind her. They both looked my direction as they walked through the door and immediately dismissed my presence. It suddenly became abundantly clear how my master intended to punish me.
With all my strength I held fast to the arms of the chair, willing my body to remain still. I deserved this.
"You will watch closely, won't you, my pet?" It was only when His voice hovered next to my ear that I realized I had been closing my eyes. I opened them and nodded slowly.
First, His hands cupped her face. For a horrifying moment, I thought He would kiss her. But His lips only hovered above hers for a moment and then He sank His teeth into the flesh of her neck. I smiled triumphantly but then as her cry of pain sank into a moan of pleasure, I was crestfallen. I squirmed uncomfortably in the chair. How far would He take this?
The master pulled Raven Hair's sweater up over her head and her full breasts swung into His cupped hands. He grabbed a fistful of her skirt and yanked. The fabric wrenched, ripped, and rippled into a tiny pile of silk on the floor. I tried to be furious, tried to stamp out my hurt with anger. But something stirred in me. Deep in the hollow of my belly, just above my own feminine center. A small stream of liquid desire trickled out of my cunt.
How? I wondered. I couldn't be turned on by my master fucking another woman. Or could I? Gingerly pushing aside the superficial film of jealousy, I tapped into the emotion just beneath. Fear. I was afraid to watch. Not because of the action itself but because of my own reaction to it. I not only wanted Him to fuck her, I wanted to fuck her too. Badly enough to taste the sweet slickness of her warm pussy running down the back of my throat.
A purr of delicious excitement passed my throbbing lips. I slid back the lid of Pandora's Box slowly. Reveling in the wicked rush of it. I wanted to savor my voyeurism, let it melt on my tongue, deep and rich. My master was not punishing me; He was giving me a gift.
Raven Hair gave a startled cry as His hand caught in her hair and threw her face down into the bed. He twisted her head roughly to the side.
"Unzip my pants," He ordered. As she did, He pulled His shirt of His head and let it fall. I sighed wantonly as His pants dropped beneath His perfectly sculpted waist, revealing His solid cock. In a rapid flourish He kicked them off with His shoes and socks.
Raven Hair was still on her stomach, her silly boots forcing her taut round ass into the air. He shoved His dick down her throat and rammed hard against her head several times. As He pulled out of her mouth, her saliva hung off of Him in strings and dripped all over her perfect face.
