As usual, getting ready for her master's evening arrival had made her pussy wet and her nipples hard. He had been right. "He's always right," she whispered to herself as she examined her reflection in the full-length mirror in their bedroom. She could see how the stay-up sheer, smooth, flesh-toned stockings made her shapely legs appear perfect and were comfortable to wear. And the ultra-thin, sheer black robe gently tickled the nipples of her large, firm, and round breasts so that they became even harder as she moved; especially when she did her catwalk in the high-heeled strappy sandals that made her tits bounce so invitingly. "Leave it to Daddy to suggest things that would give us both such pleasure."
Serving as his fuck toy this past month had been the most thrilling and satisfying time of her life. Some might think it odd that him treating her as an object could enhance their mutual love, but she knew that all his actions were based on the goal of increasing the frequency and intensity of her orgasms. And it had worked well. She had come so hard twice that she had actually lost consciousness. They fucked every night for about 2 hours, or, she corrected herself, "first he patiently brings me to several orgasms with his hands and mouth, and only after that does the fucking begin."
She may only be his slave, but she knew she was the center of his life. She may only be his toy, but she knew she was a toy of which he would always take the most exquisite care. She may only be his pet, but she knew she would be sheltered and pampered as best he could arrange for as long as their relationship lasted. And why should it not last? He was so easy to please. All she had to do was complete a few light household duties (she was messier than he), be herself, and obey the 4 rules; all things she loved to do anyway. In exchange he gave her life's material necessities (she was certain that more would be forthcoming after he graduated and began his career), sexual gratification, and emotional support in the form of gentleness, kindness, and a willing ear for whatever she felt like saying. Of course, the latter only occurred after the second, or on days that she was physically indisposed, but that was fine with her. Surely, she thought, no reasonable woman could ask for more. But she had begun to think that she might want more and that troubled her.
Strangely enough, the source of her anxiety was rooted in what her master did to make her come so hard that she passed out. It had started like every other evening. Her master was a young man of absolute habits. Leaving every morning at 6:45, going either to his job at the grocery store or to the school library, and returning home every evening at 6:15. She usually began her day by being awakened near an orgasm caused by her master's expert kissing of her clit. He had told her that if she would like to be awakened that way, all she had to do was go to bed naked. Because of his schedule, he went to sleep and awakened before her, so he would interpret a naked Slut in the morning as a silent request for head. In that case, he even suspended the rule that she must ask permission before coming. She nearly always woke seconds away from an orgasm, just in time to grab his head before her hips bucked uncontrollably ("Oh, he was such as expert pussy licker!"). Then, after a smile and a very messy kiss ("He is so right; my pussy is delicious, even if I only experience it second-hand"), he washed his face, prepared his lunch, and left without a word.
She often went back to sleep after receiving her early morning head and dreamt of sex. Indeed, their morning ritual helped focus her mind on sex and kept her horny for the rest of the day, a fact of which she was certain that he was aware. She wasn't allowed to masturbate because achieving an orgasm without permission violated the most important rule. She had once sought such permission, but her master had refused, stating that he wanted to be the sole recipient of the undissipated force of her sexual energy. Thus, she deliciously "suffered" a constant state of heightened sexual arousal. Her master wasn't very subtle, but he was extremely intelligent and he knew her well. He had turned a sexually confident and aggressive young woman into his very own super-slut. And she loved him for it.
That evening, she knew that she was hornier even than usual and it wasn't only because of the special plans she'd made. Everyone's hormones fluctuate and thereby sexual urges are periodically heightened or decreased. In that case, her hormones were racing today. As she shaved her pubic region, she had to fight the urge to rub her clit with her trembling fingers. Her hands shook so that she could hardly apply her make-up without poking herself in the eye. Feeling the silky skin of her legs as she slipped on the smooth sheer stockings made her gasp quietly. And the way the transparent robe tickled her rock-hard nipples made her moan. As she checked her appearance in the mirror, she could see that her face was so flushed she seemed to have a fever. She realized that she was panting slightly. Still looking into the mirror as she turned her body, she noticed that the lower area of her robe where she had been sitting on it while applying her makeup was so wet she might have sat in some spilled water. But she knew it wasn't water; her pussy was positively streaming. She had nearly lost control. "Oh Daddy, please get home soon," she whimpered quietly. As she heard his key in the front door lock, she doused the bedroom's overhead light, leaving only the dim bedside lamp on, and opened the bedroom door.
His apartment was ½ of a duplex and only had two rooms. The first was a living area that contained a couch, two side chairs, a console television, and a bookshelf. The back half contained a combined bedroom, including a desk/dressing area with shelving and closets on either side, and kitchen, including cabinets, sink, stove, refrigerator and table/chairs set. The bathroom was on the kitchen side, next to the back door. The duplex sat immediately across from the university campus and, because it was old and without a lot of "modern" amenities, was surprisingly affordable. He didn't care that the floor was bare and he only had a window unit for combined air conditioning and heating. He had proximity to school and work and reasonably comfortable shelter for a price within his budget.
He never parked in the space available adjacent to his front door, opting instead to keep his car in a lot across the street. He did this because he didn't want people thinking he was home. For the same reason, he insisted that the lights in the living area and outside the front door always be kept doused. When he was home with his Slut, he had better things to do than answer the door and make excuses why he couldn't admit the caller. On the rare occasion that he and she weren't actively engaging in the hottest sex he had ever even heard about, much less experienced, they might watch something on television, but even then, they kept movement and noise down to a minimum. They enjoyed their privacy and neither required much company other than themselves.
He saw the bedroom door open just as he turned from closing and relocking the front door. What he saw silhouetted in the dim light proceeding from the back never failed to take his breath away. The woman in front of him represented most delicious creature he could imagine; tall, voluptuous, skillful and as willing as a wild animal in mating season. An erotic dream made flesh and devoted to him. And, as if it couldn't get any better, this wild, lascivious, and juicy thing stood in the bedroom doorway and whimpered, "Please, Daddy, oh please, I need cock. I need it so badly. Please, Daddy!"
She backed away from the bedroom door as he slowly entered. When he turned from closing it, she stood one pace from him and repeated her plea, "Please, Daddy, I need cock now."
He stood there drinking in the sight of her, as if he'd never seen anything like this before, when, in fact, he'd seen essentially the same thing nearly every night since she'd agreed to become his slave four weeks ago. Everything about her aroused his carnal instincts. The shape of her figure, the smoothness of her skin, the smell of the natural perfume of her body. But nothing, nothing, excited him so much as her unalloyed wantonness. He thought he'd seen it at its most intense before, but he'd been wrong. It was definitely stronger tonight and promised a new level of debauchery.
Stifling a whimper, she trembled as he gazed at her. He often did this and, knowing that it heightened their desire, she returned the gaze with a smoldering look from her now hazel eyes. Slowly he reached out and lightly stroked her left nipple, forcing her to emit a gasp of pleasure. "And where to you want cock, Slut. In your mouth, your pussy, or your ass?" he asked, somewhat facetiously, but all part of the constant teasing by which he maintained her high state of arousal.
She simply breathed, "Yes."
"What a good answer," he whispered as he pulled her close for the initial kiss.
She put every bit of her lust into the kiss, attempting, as if it were possible, to devour him. Sucking gently on his tongue while grasping and pulling the back of his head as close as she could, she was gratified to feel his cock harden immediately. The tongue trick never failed to work. While he drank in the sexy smell of her hair, he ran his hands down her shoulders and along her back until he grasped her buttocks and squeezed hard. Her sudden intake of breath while pressing herself firmly against his erection showed how much she enjoyed this. And they were off!
He broke their embrace so he could get undressed. She knew he didn't like her grabbing at his clothes, so she stood and waited. When he was completely naked, she slipped off her robe, rubbed it along her cunt and pressed it into his face. He breathed deeply and muttered, "You are delicious."
She responded huskily, "Lay on your back, Daddy, please."
