Masters Work Of Art

He takes his pet's leash and leads her up the stairs. Willingly she follows him, completely unquestioning, trusting him totally, as he has taught her to do. She no longer has the desire to question or balk. He feels no small pride in his ability as a trainer.

He leads her to his bedroom, and tells her to mount his bed and put her ass up, her face down in the pillows. Immediately she does as he bids, uttering a pleasing "yes, Master" as she obeys. When she is properly in place, displaying her ass and cunt as he has taught her to, he takes his whip and strokes her ass gently with it, poking at her orifices with it. I think you need a good beating, he tells her. Even though you have been good, you still need it, don't you? She agrees with him, with an undernote of earnestness and belief in her voice that pleases him immensely.

He contemplates the change he has wrought in her over the years. She is no longer the bitchy, opinionated creature he met; now she is a sweet and docile pet, obedient, quiet, biddable, carrying out his every wish, treating him with the deference and respect he deserves. He has made her simple in her needs, and gentle. He has tempered her, tamed her, made her feel and understand and learn things she never would have without him.

He has formed her thoughts and behaviour and emotions. He has made her sweet and beautiful and graceful in her submission. He owns her, controls her, is her creator. His cock swells with his complete power and his pride of ownership. She has been a very willing pupil. In fact, the most touching and beautiful thing about this is the complete irony of it. In shaping her exactly to his needs, he has made her purely and undilutedly herself.

He has taught her that most basic and important lesson - that her only true pleasure lays in pleasing him, and that he is the only person in the world who is of importance to her.

The moment of deep thought passes quickly, as he prepares to give her this very necessary beating - necessary in that it keeps her nature soft and giving and humble, inherent qualities he likes to bring out in her. It enhances her beauty and value in his eyes.

He raises the whip, and flicks it across her ass; she gives a small start, but does not resist. He flicks it again, harder; hears the cutting noise it makes, sees the brilliant line of red it leaves across her jutting ass and mound. He hits across the same line in the opposite direction, marking her flesh with an "x". He likes the pattern, and continues to beat her along the same lines.

The whip rises and falls, she pants and moans, her pussy throbs and becomes welted, red and wet; his cock surges with blood, his excitment mounts with every flick of his whip. He has taught her to know herself so well! She is practically begging for it, she loves it, she wants it, she knows she needs it. He has taught her that. He wonders if there is anything left in her that he has not shaped and made, and doubts it.

He has taken her heart and soul completely, and she has willingly let him. Her happiness has increased with every lesson he has taught her. She knows that everything good comes from him. She knows that he alone can show her herself in truth, as she really is. And she is as he has shaped her. He feels the surge of power run through him, enhancing his hard-on and making him feel so virile, so good.

She has pushed her ass towards him now, and he hears her whimpering in pain and desire; it's such an inviting sound! He knows at this point, she can no longer talk. He knows she wants him badly. His cock pulsates with the desire to come, and she kneels so sweetly open to him, waiting patiently for him to use her as he pleases. He tosses the whip aside, and rubs her now red ass and lips. The cross of the x lays directly over her vaginal lips; they are red, swollen, bee-stung, wet and ever so sensitive from the whipping. She will feel his every movement intensely.

He plunges his rigid cock hard into her dripping pussy, and she willingly takes it all in, taking it all the way to his root with a cry; he slams into her depth, over and over again, taking her womb, feeling the heat of her beaten ass against his lower plexus, her soft hot lips hitting against his balls. The heat makes him rush with pleasure, her little cries of need and distress urge him on; she is begging to have his come, it's all she can think of, it's all she wants. She doesn't even need to have her own orgasms anymore, just his, he has taught her his are the ones that matter, and are more than enough to fulfill her.

So he lets her have it, releasing it, relieving his cock, pouring himself into her over and over again, creating the perfect metaphor; he fills her pussy with his sperm just as he has filled her mind and heart with his desires and needs, to the exclusion of everything else. Oh, sweet pet! His vessel, his pet, tailor-made to please him, and only him. She was born only to serve him.

He leans against her ass, exhausted; then he rolls off, and pats her burning ass. Clean me, he orders her gently, and she does, softly licking and sucking his cock clean of her sticky juices. He strokes her hair, and she nuzzles his hand, kissing him, making little pet noises of joy and contentment, thanking him gratefully and politely for the beating and for his come. He smiles, content with his work of art, as he closes his eyes and drifts off.