Masters Day Off

July 12, 10 am.

I am alone. My roommates are out for the day, and I have the house to myself. I peck away at yogurt and eggs for breakfast, not feeling super hungry. I should be working on a drawing, my side project while I wait for classes to begin. Of late, though, procrastination seems to be my hobby of choice. I haven't gotten much done all week. Besides, today, my mind is elsewhere.

He has today off. For two busy people like us, coinciding free time is a gift not so easily wasted. We had wanted to make plans, but never got around to it. I fear I will miss another opportunity to see Him.

The quiet house allows me a lot of time to let my mind drift. And drift it does...to his strong hands, his sultry voice, his thick cock...

I send Him a good morning text. It is early - He might be asleep still, or at the gym, so I don't know if I will get an answer. I let him know that I am alone, anyhow. I open the Internet on my phone, type in my favourite erotic literature website, and curl up with some steamy tales to pass the time.

Page by page goes by, a lusty tale of bondage and discipline, in which I am fully enthralled. My heart is fluttering, my cheeks blushing hot pink, a faint throbbing between my legs. That lucky submissive, at the mercy of her Dom's experience, being whipped, restrained, used, and finally rewarded. The thought makes me swoon. My hand dips between my legs with the thought of that final release of tension after so much play and exertion.

The only thing that snaps me out of this whirlwind of emotion is the violent vibration of my phone itself. I have a text, but not from just anyone. He says that He is just getting into the shower after his workout. Another successive message assures me that He was coming. 30 minutes.

I kick myself into action immediately. I change from sweats into black lace underwear, short sleep shorts and a cotton tank top, put on some subtle makeup, and tie my bed head curls into order, all to the sound of my ever faster pulse ringing in my ears. I am hot and tingling with anticipation, which sounds cliché, but is completely true. I catch a glance at myself in a mirror, and laugh at how my image communicates this sentiment. My nipples press stiffly through the cotton top, and my face is flushed and rosy. I look like I need to be fucked, and let me tell you, I do.

What a blessing it is, then, to hear His vehicle roll into the driveway. It is all I can do to be patient, and not run out to embrace Him in the yard, skimpily dressed as I was. I pace in front of the door, and after too long of a wait, I open it to see His handsome figure coming up the steps. My Master is a few inches taller than me, and a great deal more muscular. His hair is very long, a trait I find completely irresistible and uniquely Him. His blue eyes show all the cleverness of a young man who devours information as a lion would devour his prey. Though knowledge isn't all He devours, by far, He is one of the smartest people I have ever met. Insatiable is a word I could use to describe many facets of the wonderful man in front of me, to whom I murmured a shy hello.

He grins, and I can tell that behind his sunglasses, He is enjoying my flustered little show, with it's obvious distractedness and barely-there attire. I am usually much more composed than this: for Him to see me in such a state is a definite sign of my desperation, my need of Him. I wind my arms around His neck and tug him inside the door. Pressing Him against the cool surface, I welcome Him with all the seductive power I possess. My lips whisper against His, gentle, inviting. I run a hand up His strong chest, down His exposed arms. He has cut the sleeves off another shirt, something I find extremely sexy. Going to the gym four times a week really pays off after a while. Delicious. I bite His bottom lip teasingly. I know He doesn't prefer the action, but it's fun to entice Him. Or, at least, to give Him reasons for payback. Bad of me, I know.

I can't get Him upstairs fast enough. I am already halfway up the flight before He has even stepped out of His shoes. It still feels like time is dragging on. I shoot Him a coy smile, and dart up the last few steps. I am sure He can see my ass from this angle, bouncing as I move under the skimpy shorts I have chosen.

He meets me at the landing, and our bodies connect to each other like magnets. Hands, lips, chest, hips all move together, unable to be everywhere at once. I kiss Him fiercely, desperate to be ever closer, to release the morning's pent-up passion. He kisses me back with equal enthusiasm, gently pushing me towards my bed. With a final shove, He throws me to the sheets, pinning my smaller frame easily with His strong arms. Our tongues intertwine fiercely, lovingly. I moan with desperation.

He breaks the embrace then, smiling at me. He pulls an item from a pocket - green, smooth, soft. My collar. I blush and smile too, leaning over for Him to fasten the adornment around my neck. A second of tightness, and it clicks into place. Perfect. He pulls on the loop, once more bringing my face up to meet His, softly pressing His lips to mine. God, I love this collar. God, I love this man. He tells me how sexy I look in it. All to please Him, I respond. He pulls another treat from His pocket: a leash. This is His, a Christmas present from me last year. Black, His favourite colour. He clips the clasp onto the ring, a sound I will never get enough of.

Instead of leading me anywhere, however, He pulls out one more toy from his pocket. A knife. He holds it for me to see flip open. My eyes widen: I have often fantasized about such objects, sharp and deliciously full of risk such as this, but we have never tried them before. He kneels over me, and I lay back on the bed. I feel the very sharp point of the blade up against the hollow of my throat, being drawn slowly down my chest. When He gets to the top of my shirt, I think He will stop and command me to remove it. But no: He tears right through the fabric with the blade, to my utter shock. A savage look sweeps over His features, somewhere between pleasure and hunger.

The knife then continues its course, up and down the middle of my chest, sternum to navel, stopping to circle the tender skin of my breasts. It casts a radius of sparks wherever it goes, little tingling sensations that I have never felt before. So sharp, I am worried that I won't be able to feel it pierce my skin noticeably. Dangerous.

But such a turn on.

It isn't until it left my skin that I notice the implements effect. My nipples are stiff, my mouth open in shock and awe. I have been moaning without really realizing it. Wow, Master is good.

I know it's time for my hips and legs to receive the same treatment. Turning over onto my knees, I coyly ask if I can at least keep my revealing little shorts, which He seems to like. A moment of consideration, and He looks back at me, that same hungry look in His eye. No, He says, and in one fell swoop, my shorts join my tank top in shreds on the floor. He then sees my black lace panties for the first time, and I know He will let me keep those. He enjoys them very much, how good they make my ass look.

He runs his hands over the soft skin, and tells me to take the panties off.

I stand up and do so, very slowly. He considers me for a moment, and tells me, on second thought, to go get my belt. I go to my closet and select the perfect tool for what I know He wants to do. A belt, broad and flat, perfect for whipping. I kiss it and, kneeling, hold it up to Him. He chuckles at my formality, and brings my face in by the collar to kiss me again. Now, He says, on the bed. I press my stomach to the edge of the mattress and spread my legs, leaving my whole ass, thighs and dripping pussy exposed. He runs His hands over my body once more.

Very suddenly, He grabs my hair, turns my face towards Him, and commands me to open my mouth. He stuffs my soaked panties inside, gagging me. I know what is coming, so I don't resist. I will need to be silenced.

Looking me in the eye, He announces that He is going to whip me with my own belt. This punishment is for swallowing His cum without permission a few days ago. I nod, because it is all too true. I had begged to be punished directly after, but Master has decided to put it off until this moment, when I am all His, open, willing, and so ready.

He shoves me back down on the bed. The first blows immediately bite at my flesh, and I jolt from the impact. The initial few always sting like the devil. I tense against the bed, trying not to move my lower half, Master's target, but clenching fists in my sheet as hard as I could. I bite down on the black lace in my mouth, stifling the first few gasps and shouts. Harder, more violently, blow after blow assails my ass. I'm screaming and gasping into the gag, the pain filling my whole body. Each successive swat brings more hurt: one, two, three, four, five, even six at a time. Master seems relentless, sadistic, and enjoying every second of my punishment.

The pain continues to escalate, each stroke blurring together into a white-hot heat.

Then, everything changes.

It is like a switch going off in my head. I stand on my tiptoes, my hands still grasping at the sheets, and gasp a long lungful of air, musky with the smell of juice-soaked lace. The next muffled sound isn't a cry, but a moan. All the hot, stinging pain feels feather-light, and sends jolts straight through my inner thighs to my pussy. Zip after zip of pure pleasure, straight to my clit, as my Master whips me. I am floating, weightless, like I am above myself. The feeling is pure bliss.

Then, my fantasy is over seemingly before it started. He leans over my shoulder, tugging the gag from my mouth. Ten more, He says: count them. I count down, panting, thanking Him each time. More white, electric shocks to my cunt. When He finishes, I slump against the frame, wheeling from crossing the line into subspace. Briefly, but finally.

He touches a hand to my pussy, eliciting a sigh from me. I'm sure He is impressed with my wetness, and I long for His gorgeous cock to be buried deep inside me. I want, need Him, desperately.

But Master has other plans. Kneel, He says, pulling on my leash. I sink to my knees, tugging on His belt. I have never been good at buttons or belts or zippers, less-so in my delirious, horny state.

Finally, His cock springs out of His boxers, which He steps out of. He sits on the edge of my bed, His hard erection teasing me. I crawl between His legs, pleasuring Him with my tongue. Ever so gently, slowly, I circle the head of His cock, licking a drop of precum off the tip. I suck Him into my mouth, inch after silky inch of hardness, until He reaches the back of my throat. In and out, I guide His wonderful cock as deep into my throat as I can muster, and then even farther. He holds my head there, groaning with pleasure. He releases me just in time to gasp another much needed breath. I lick up and down the length of His shaft, then to the globes beneath it. My hand strokes Him while I suck on the sensitive skin, kneading first one then the other orb with my tongue. He sighs with pleasure.

Returning my attention to His amazing cock, I begin to move faster up and down His shaft. My lips glide over the slick surface, my tongue caressing its underside. I know He is nearing the edge; I double my efforts to please Him.

Head back, He says. I rest on my knees, shoulders back, mouth open, displaying myself for Him. He is going to cum on my face, and I deserve it. The last part of my punishment: I don't get His hot seed filling up my pussy.

Standing over me, He shoots His seed on my tits, my face, in my mouth. He has a that glowing, triumphant look of release on His face, enjoying the view almost as much as the sensation. Swallow, he says, and I lick at the cum on my lips. Salty, tangy, and ridiculously addictive.

He helps me clean the cum from my breasts, thighs and face with a warm cloth. His hands on my body is such a delicious sensation, I wish he would never stop. He pulls me onto the bed with Him, and I cuddle up to His warm chest. We lie there, skin to skin. I look up into His amazing eyes, and He must see the lingering need in my eyes, for He lightly traces his hand down my body to my sex, still slick and awaiting His touch. I moan, begging for more. His hand leaves my pussy, and travels to my burning backside. Even such a gentle touch sends more shocks of pain and pleasure to my nether regions. So sensitive, so deliciously raw. He takes the end of the leash to the reddened skin, reigniting my lust with more strikes. Without a gag, I am crying out aloud. This pleases Master, who laughs at my desperate state.

Please, I beg, please fuck me.

He commands me to lie back. His fingers trace the insides of my quivering thighs, His tongue teasing my aching lips. I want Him inside me, now. He presses His lips to my clit, and I lose it. The pleasure builds inside me, a growing wave that threatens to consume me. But I need more, selfishly, insatiably more. He must have known my need, because He presses one finger, then another into my slit. Please, yes, please, I say, and His digits slam home.

That's all it takes, and I scream as my orgasm overtakes me. I moan and thrash under His strong grip and talented tongue. He draws wave after wave from me, His fingers stroking my most sensitive spot until I am spent. He raises His fingers to my lips, and I suck my juices from them.

Good girl, He says. Good girl.