He stares hard into my eyes as he commands of me his pleasure. I hurry to oblige him.
"Yes," I moan, as I take his hard dick into my hand.
In a flash, he has my throat. "Yes, what?" he demands.
"Yes, Master," I whisper, "I'm sorry master."
After a brief hesitation, his nod signals that he accepts my apology. At least for now.
I start pumping his cock, lying nude next to him, my nipples puckered in excitement and pussy aching. All I want is to please him, for him to use me for his pleasure and every desire. By the look in his eyes, he soon will.
"Repeat your phrase."
"Yes, master. I live to serve you. I live to serve you. I live to-"
He grabs my face firmly but gently and says, "Good slut. And what else?"
"I want only your pleasure."
"Good girl," he whispers, and gives me an indulgent smile. "Faster."
I hurry to obey, rapidly stroking and twisting, upping the tempo. His facial expression tells me the speed is just right. He reaches over and begins to run his hands lightly over my breasts, my stomach, up again, and then dipping almost as low as my pussy, teasing me.
"What do you want, my slut?"
"Your pleasure, master," I moan. His wandering hand has found its way to my nipple and is twisting and pulling and kneading there. Some small selfish part of mind is hoping that soon his mouth will find its way there too. He seems to read my reverie right off my face.
"What do you want?"
"Your pleasure, master."
He leans over till his mouth is a bare inch away from my nipple. His breath is warm and wet. My breath quickens and my legs twist involuntarily. It brings to mind how how his tongue feels there.