"Touch me, slut."
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.
"Is this what you want, you slut?"
I moan, so very horny. "Yes," I breath, "Yes, master."
He grins a wicked grin and bends closer. He blows on it, bends closer and rubs his lips back and forth, teasing. He licks around my nipple lightly and I moan louder. With a final nibble, he is on it so quickly it startles me, sucking as much of my breast into his mouth as he can, twisting, bobbing up and down. God, it feels so good. I don't realize then that I've forgotten my place.
He grabs my throat. "You stopped touching me, slut." I quickly try to fix my error, stroking again and whispering, "I'm sorry, Master, so sorry, forgive me, please, I'm sorry...," but he doesn't look happy.
"You want to be my good girl, don't you?"
"Yes, Master, yes, please, let me please you." I beg almost incoherently. I hate to disappoint my master. I want so badly to be punished so I can be his good girl again. I tell him so.
"Stand up," he orders.
I hurry to obey, murmuring, "Yes, master," the whole way.