Sleeper

He found her asleep. And naked.

She lay sprawled on the couch, her legs splayed obscenely. Clothespins lay scattered on the floor next to her, a few lay discarded on her belly and on the couch between those incredibly long legs. There were two vibrators on the TV table next to her, one with ridges that was nearly as long as his forearm, and another, slightly smaller one, that increased in width from tip to base. One for each hole, he surmised. As he stepped closer, he spotted a third, this one simply a dildo, on the floor next to her outstretched hand. Since he knew she would never just fuck herself with a simple dildo (when she got close she lost muscle control and couldn't force it in and out) he assumed that she'd been sucking on this one. Forcing it down her slutty throat.

If she didn't make such a beautiful sight, sprawled the way she was, he might have been angry. Using herself this way. Without his permission. As it was, he was a bit amused by the situation. She'd put herself into a pleasure-coma. He wondered how long it had taken her. She had trouble, quite a bit of trouble, reaching orgasm without his permission. She could get herself close, very close, but without his saying so, she merely hung there on the edge, unable to reach that maximum pleasure.

For the first time he noticed that the television was on. The porn she had been watching had ended, and the opening screen was playing itself over and over. Pain sluts and Cum Whores was the all-too-engaging title, and flashes of girls pain-filled, cum-covered faces wracked in ecstasy rotated across the screen. That explained how she had been able to cum, at least. Towards the end of that particular film a Dom whipped his slut, finally commanding her to cum for him. His slut had the ability to imagine any man's voice as his own. She'd confessed to Him that she preferred it that way, that she preferred to hear every man's voice as His. It reminded her that she best not step out of line.

His face hardened at that. She had stepped out of line, he thought. And no matter how much he enjoyed the sight of her, she would have to pay.

***

She awoke slowly, her mind clearing. Then suddenly, snapped awake. She'd fallen asleep! She had to get up, put everything away, get dinner started before Master...

Her thoughts stuttered to a halt. Her eyes were open, she knew they were, yet all she could see was pitch black. A power outage? She tried to push herself up, but her arms wouldn't move. As her mind started to race in panic, she recognized the feeling. There were ropes around her wrists, and her elbows. No way to move her arms. The blackness...not a blindfold, no, the darkness was too all-consuming for that. The mask. He'd put her in the mask. She started to move her lips, to call out to him, but there was none of it. Not the ball-gag. Not even the ring. A thick hollow tube had been inserted. Holding her mouth open, her throat unprotected. Anything could be inserted.

That thought at least gave her some hope. If he wanted her throat open, there was a chance he would use her. Isolation was her worst fear, and he knew that. Maybe, just maybe, he hadn't been angry enough to put her there.

"Ah, so my slut is awake, then?"

His voice. Oh, thank God, his voice. She could sustain anything if she could only hear his voice.

"Decided to play without me, my pet?" he drawled, and she whimpered. "Didn't expect me to find out?" He chuckled at that, and she felt a familiar brush against her leg. The whip. She closed her eyes tight. Oh, how she wanted to close her legs. He hadn't even started yet, but she could feel the bite of that whip against her most sensitive folds.

He trailed it over her belly, and she shivered.

"This is not your punishment, pet. Do not think I would let you off so easily. This...is merely my whim." And with those words, the whip fell, fast and hard, cracking at her right breast, the tip flicking across the nipple. "After all, you enjoyed yourself..." A second crack, this time across the left breast, and both were on fire. "I should get the same privilege." Flurries of whips, down her body and then back up. One final crack, well aimed, and the tip brushed her clit. Her body bowed in pain, pulling minutely at the ropes.

Her body was on fire. If he could see her face, he would have seen the tears leaking down her face. That was, in fact, why he had placed her in the hood. Tears would invoke mercy, they always did, and he was in no mood to dispense any. He studied her body, smiled at the angry red welts that were already forming, and considered.

There was no warning before the flogger smacked down, four times on the inside of each thigh. He traced it lovingly over her bald mound, slipping it between her swollen folds. It came away dripping. He sighed, loud enough for her to hear the agitation in the sound. Just like that, five fast flicks straight onto her clit.

Her scream split the air. Her entire body shook and trembled.

And the assault stopped. He moved towards the head of the bed and released his cock. He started to straddle her mouth, then thought better of it. "I would have you suck my cock now, slut, but you don't deserve that." Roughly, he reached down and shoved three fingers into her sopping cunt. He twisted cruelly until he had a handful of her cunt juices, then pulled out slowly, and began sliding his hand up and down his swollen cock. He studied her welts and listened to her whimpering softly as his hand moved faster. When he was done, he spurted his load all across her tits and belly, then reached out and squeezed them. "No, you don't deserve to drink my cum, bitch, not today anyway."

She heard the door slam then, and her heart sank. Her body burned, in pain and in need. But there would be no relief. Not today.