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Becoming Daddy's Bitch -- Chapter 11
Told to suck, I wet my lips and pushed my nose into his thick, dark patch of pubic hair, his incredible scent filling my nostrils as his soft cock filled my mouth, my tongue caressing its underside as I moved up and down on it. Master was right. Not only did I need it, I craved it, looking forward to every moment that Master used me and humiliated me, every chance to kiss his feet and lick his balls and suck y
His cock swelled in my mouth, spreading my jaw and pushing my nose further and further from that coarse, curly patch of hair. It drove deeper into my throat than it ever had before, and I was both surprised and happy that over half of it was disappearing between my lips. I drew up its length and slavered it head with my tongue, exploring its shape and teasing his piss slit, eager to feel that big, mushroom head sliding back into my throat again. If only I could open my throat further, could feel the entire length of his cock filling my gullet. Thank you, Master, thank you Master, thank you Master. What a lucky bitch I am to be sucking such a glorious cock. My clit hurt from the pressure in its cage, but it only made me want his cock more, taking it in my right hand as my left hand cupped his balls, my tongue licking a meandering path down his shaft. Moaning and sighing, I lifted his balls to my lips and sucked at them gently, my hand still stroking his cock above me. I loved Masters balls. Masters big, beautiful balls. It was where a slave and a bitch belonged, licking her Masters balls. And I was that "her," that cunt and that whore and that bitch and that slut, that little girl who only wanted to be fucked by her Master. I opened my throat and dove deep down onto his cock again, wanting to please him, wanting him to know that I was wholly and entirely his. "That's enough for now, bitch. Go get my pussy plug." I crawled away from him in a dream, getting to my feet only in my eagerness to obey. Presenting it to him on my knees with the lube and a dry cloth, I spun about and pushed my ass high into the air, placing myself as close to him as possible. "That's a sweet bitch," he said as he lubed his pussy, working his fingers up inside of it. Then he pushed in the plug, and my eyes rolled as I moaned out loud. "Now get me a beer, cunt." I crawled to the kitchen to fetch it, then opened it and set it at his side, returning to my knees and pressing my face against the carpet. I wanted him to command me, to tell me what I was to do. I wanted to do whatever was next because I was told to. "Are you glad to have my plug in your pussy, whore?" "Yes, Master!" "Now go change the sheets on the bed. Your Mistress isn't going to want to smell you on them." I crawled away again, getting to my feet only when I was past his line of sight. I had only just stripped the bed and was struggling with the fitted sheet when Master walked in behind me and turned into the bathroom.
"Come here, bitch!" I could hear the irritation in his voice.
The moment I stepped into the bathroom I saw the towels scattered across the floor, and I knew what I had done wrong, or, rather, what I hadn't done.
"Go finish the bed," he growled a he kicked the towels aside and dropped his pants to sit on the toilet.
I knew that I was in trouble, that I was going to get punished. I had been so nervous about my Mistress coming home, that I had completely forgotten what Master had told me during my training. Shaking nervously, I struggled the pulled the sheets into place and put on the pillow covers, and was just unfolding the quilt when Master strolled into the room and over to his closet. Shutting the door, he stepped up behind me, and the next thing I knew I was face down on the bed with his knee pressed down on my back. Flipping the skirt out of his way, he brought his belt down hard across my ass.
I yelped and screamed with every strike, clutching the quilt and the bedsheet in my fists, every slap of the belt growing more painful than the last, and din no time I was bawling so hard I could barely breath. Then he was off me, and I heard the clink of metal as he returned the belt to his closet.
"When you're finished, you can come and apologize, and if I'm satisfied, I might forgo further punishment."
Still sobbing uncontrollably, I couldn't answer, could barely even get my body to respond to his command. I wanted to be angry with Master for being so harsh, but I wasn't. I was upset with myself for being so dumb and not being able to remember what I was told. I wanted Master to own me. I wanted to please him and be a good slave. I was just too stupid to be able to do it right. That was why Master yelled at me. That was why Master punished me.
Finishing the bed, I returned to the bathroom to put everything back in its place, using the damp towels to wipe out the tub and the sink and dry off the counter, wincing in pain with every movement. Gathering them all up, I glanced around, then dropped them again to straighten out the hand towels and clean off the mirror, turning around so I could see the reflection of my ass. It was beet red, and so sore that even the silky fabric of the tiny pink skirt felt rough when it brushed against my cheeks.
I had been a naughty girl, and Master was expecting an apology.
I dumped the towels into the laundry, and returned meekly to his feet, finding his sitting at the kitchen table and chatting on his phone. I didn't hear what he said, didn't pay any attention at all to the words as he spoke them above me, but pressed my face to the tile to lick urgently at his big toe. I had to please him, had to satisfy him so he wouldn't punish me more, had to convince him how sorry I was for being such a stupid slave. I wanted him to fuck me, to show me that he forgave me and that he was still please to have me as his bitch. He slapped me once with his foot, the pushed all five of his toes into my mouth. I licked and whined and licked some more, then licked and kissed the top of his foot as he dropped it back into place, working my way to his arch and to the bottom of his foot, my ass squirming high into the air.
He gave me only a few minutes before grabbing my collar as he stood, still talking on the phone as he dragged me crawling into the living room and into the far corner, the chain between my ankles pulling taut with each stride as I struggled to keep up with him. With one arm, he yanked me into the air, the collar biting the skin on my neck, and set me on my feet. Releasing the collar, he pushed my face into the corner.
"Hands behind your back," he growled into my ear, then turned and walked away as a fresh set of tears started running down my face.
I was overwhelmed with emotions; shame, humiliation, joy, gratitude. Here I was, a fifteen year old boy, naked and hairless, collared and chained and dressed in pink stockings and a skirt, my ass spanked red and standing in a corner, the man who was once my father now my Master and my owner.
I didn't want to admit it, but I was glad that he had spanked me.
I didn't like it. I didn't like the pain, didn't want the pain. But...but...slaves deserved to be punished, didn't they? Slaves were supposed to be punished when they displeased their Masters. I continued to sob, wondering if Master was pleased with me, or if he regretted raising such a stupid bitch.
No...no. Master was just teaching me. Master wanted me to be a good slave, and was just reminding me that there were consequences to displeasing him, to forgetting to do what I had been taught. I was just too dumb to learn.
His voice drifted slowly into my awareness, though I didn't really hear the words he spoke. I heard the refrigerator door, and the pop and the hiss of a beer being opened, then the crinkle of leather as he sat on the couch behind me, still responding the voice on the other end of his phone.
"Yeah, see you on Monday," were the first words that made any sense to me. I could hear his movements behind me, hear his phone as it hit the table, hear the ring of the beer can as it struck the wooden coaster. With a shuffle and a sigh, he called me to him.
"Right here, on your feet," he pointed in front of the couch.
I was nervous as I scuttled to the spot.
"Turn around."
I half expected another slap across my still burning ass cheeks, but he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me onto his lap, adjusting me until my right shoulder was under his left arm, my head resting against his shoulder. Sliding his right arm under my knees, he lifted my legs over me, nearly bringing my knees to my chest. Spreading them apart, he cupped my crotch, his palm caressing my balls as his fingers stroked my taint. I moaned in delight, feeling my clit starting to swell.
Girl. He was telling me I was a girl. His girl. His little slut dressed in pink and white, my pussy eager for my Master.
His hand rubbed roughly across my tender ass cheeks, and I winced at the shock of pain. Still sniffling and sobbing, I nodded into his chest.
"Yes, it was. Because you forgot your training. Because you weren't thinking of me, and what I taught you...but because you were only thinking of yourself."
His finger traced around the butt plug, and my clit hardened even further, pushing against the inside of the cage. I was being scolded, but I moaned in delight, my breath coming in short gasps as I tried to listen to what I was being told.
"I know that this is what you want, that you want to be my slave and my property. And I know that you're trying very hard to please me..."
His finger slid up inside me, pushing on the butt plug and filling me even further. Whimpering, I began gyrating my hips, wanting to feel his finger drive into me further, and nodded, still sniffing back the last of my tears.
"But you only want to please me so that I reward you by using you for sex."
He dug his finer in deep, then slid it out, adding a second finger as he pushed it in again, eliciting another moan from me. I knew that he was right. I tried hard to please him, tried hard to be good and to obey, because I wanted his cock in my mouth. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted him to use my body to please his cock.
Properly reprimanded, I nodded against him once more.
"I'm sorry, Master," I squeaked.
"You can apologize later. Right now I want you to listen. I'm glad you made a mistake. I want you to know that I will punish you. And I will punish you. I will punish you often, until you truly understand what you are and where your thoughts should be. You are lucky to be allowed to suck my cock, but you don't suck it for your pleasure. You suck it for mine!"
He worked his fingers in and out of my hole, pressing on my prostrate, my little clit shrinking as my pussy was aroused.
"Yes, Master!" I moaned, pushing my pussy against his fingers.
"Now you can apologize to me, slut, and if you can convince me that you're sorry, and that it's truly me you want to please, I might forego further punishment for you for this evening."
His fingers slid from my pussy as he opened his arms, and I curled myself off his lap and onto the floor, tucking my knees under me and scooting backwards as he spread his legs and stretched out his feet
I had to kiss my Masters feet. I had to show him how contrite I was, how much I wanted to please him. I didn't want to be punished again. I wanted Master to be pleased with me, to show him that I would think only of him.
I stuck out my tongue and sucked in his big toe, running my tongue over it. Sucking and slurping, I drilled my tongue between his toes and moved onto the next. How could I make sure that Master was pleased with me? How could I please him so I wouldn't get punished? What could I do that I didn't always do? I fretted and worried that Master wouldn't be satisfied, that I wouldn't convince him I was only thinking of him.
And then I realized that I wasn't. I was still only thinking of me.
Think only of Master.
How?
I looked at my tongue as it licked the top of his foot.
Think only of Master.
What did Master feel when I licked his foot?
I realized then that it wasn't about me apologizing, or proving myself so I wouldn't get punished. It was about what Master felt, how Master felt, how good Master felt.
I tried to imagine what he was feeling; the pressure here, how it massaged the muscles of his them. Were his feet cold? No, not cold. Soft. Firm. Warm. I licked them again, dragged my tongue across his arch, pushed it on his heel, trying to massage any pain he might have away, my hands coming up to caress his foot, my fingers kneading gently at the muscles. I smeared my face on his foot, his foot wet with my spit, and sucked in his toes again as my hands worked their way up his ankles. One toe at a time, I worked them with my lips and tongue, stretching them gently and massaging them before lifting them with my nose to lick at the ball of his foot.
Good bitch. Think only of Master.
Reaching out, I found his other foot, sighing and moaning plunged my face toward it, hungry to comfort it in equal measure, barley aware of the delightful, painful pulsing of my clit in its cage. It deserved it, Masters foot. Master deserved all my attention, my every thought, living only for his comfort. I felt a euphoria I had never felt before, knowing that this was the only place I wanted to be, the only thing that I was. And it was all because of Master. Master had shown me what I truly was, and where I belonged in his life.
Thank you, Master, thank you, Master, thank you, Master.
I hadn't even realized she had walked into the room until I heard her voice from the direction of her chair. My euphoria faded immediately, and I was almost a little mad until I heard the conversation above me.
"Well, it's over and done with. As we hoped, the ex-wife left him the villa. Or, as I hoped, anyway."
"He's aware of the plans that you have for him," Master chuckled above me as I struggled to keep my attention focused on his foot.
"Oh, he knows. And he's actually rather eager for it. When I described to him all of the benefits of being my slave, he went right to his knees to kiss my feet and beg me for it."
"Well, from what you've told me about him, I always thought he was the perfect candidate. How much did he lose in the divorce?"
I could hear the grim satisfaction in her voice when she answered.
"Everything, pretty much, which is another reason why he's so eager. The money he'll receive from me for buying the villa will just barely cover his debts, so he'll have nothing, anyway, and he's well aware that anything he does have will become mine as soon as he signs the contract, which we'll be doing first thing tomorrow."
"Well, we knew that it would happen. That's one of the reasons I started him as early as I did."
He pushed his toes into my mouth.
"Focus on my feet, whore," he instructed gently. "Unless someone is speaking directly to you, what people are saying is none of your business. The only things I want you to know are the things I tell you to know. Otherwise, I want your full attention on what you are doing to serve and to please your Master."
I was trying, but I was completely taken aback by what I had heard. Mistress had her own slave? Mistress was buying a villa?
And, suddenly, it all made sense. Master had said that I had been born to be his slave, that he had planned it. That they had planned it. I hadn't considered that my Mistress might want a slave. Not me as a slave, but someone else. And suddenly I was relieved. I wouldn't be serving her as my Mistress, and would be the sole possession of my Master. His foot once again became the center of my world, and I licked and I sucked at it passionately, feeling my clit start to swell in its cage once again.
Thank you, Master, thank you, Master, thank you, Master.
The conversation continued above me, and though I didn't listen to it, I understood the gist of it. Mistress was leaving, was moving in with her slave and taking over his life. I rolled onto my back, my Masters feet both resting on my face as I licked their bottoms, and wriggled my tongue between his toes. I was in heaven, looking forward to a future alone with my Master.
"Enough, bitch. Pay attention." His voice was firmly instructive. "I want the bed turned down, and my pussy unplugged. And don't forget the serving tray from your Mistress's office."
I waited for him to remove his feet from my face, then rolled onto my knees.
"Yes, Master," I answered, hoping it was appropriate.
"And what do you do when you're finished, bitch?" He leaned forward to look down on me.
I had been told that.
"Go back to kissing your feet, Master."
I was intensely aware that my Mistress was there, and I suddenly wanted to be on my best behavior for my Master. Not so much to show her that I was a good slave, but to show her the power my Master had over me. To make her proud of my Master.
"Good girl," he reached out and pushed his thumb into my mouth, clasping my jaw gently as I closed my lips around it, my eyes focused on his crotch. "You can take the skirt and stockings and panties off, too. I want you naked and ready to be fucked."
I blushed, finding myself happy and proud, gasping out a "Thank you, Master," as he pulled his thumb from my mouth and I hurried to crawl away.
It had been kind of Master to remind me of the serving tray. Without it, I know I would have forgotten about it, and I knew that I would be punished if I had. I would be getting punished anyway, as Master had made quite clear to me, but at least it would be one less punishment.
I groaned with relief when I pulled the plug from Masters pussy. My clit was still hard in its cage, so it was difficult, but at last I had the opportunity to empty my bladder. I scrubbed the pussy plug and set it aside, then gave Masters pussy a good wash with the rag. I couldn't wait for Master to push his big cock up inside of me.
They were still talking when I returned, but the words were only noise as I crawled from the end of the hallway to my Masters outstretched feet. All of my focus was on my Master. I worshipped Master; his beautiful, muscular body, his handsome face, his strictness and his sternness and the kindnesses he showed me, my clit aching for release from its cage again as I licked at his feet and sucked on his toes. Master owned me. I was his, and I would never have to think about anything except my Master; no school, or job, or having to learn how to drive, or having to make money, or trying to pay bills. All of the things that had scared me were no longer there, because Master had taken them all away.
I couldn't love my Master more.
"Beer, bitch," Master pressed the ball of his foot against my nose.
I returned with it quickly, crawling back to resume kissing his feet, but he stepped on my head, pushing it to the floor and holding it there with firm pressure. I held still, feeling the softness of his arch against my cheek as I waited in anticipation. Their conversation droned on, but I didn't pay attention to a single word.
Master. Master above me. Master resting with his foot on his slave, drinking his beer. In control of his life, in control of his slave. Manly, muscular, masculine, his huge, thick, incredible cock resting lazily over his gorgeous, wonderful balls, just waiting to plunge into his pussy and fuck it.
Thank you, Master. I am nothing, Master. Thank you for resting your foot on my face, Master.
My clit was hard.
I saw Mistresses feet move, saw her disappear behind me and heard her over me as she spoke to my Master.
"Enjoy your fuck, dear. I would stay and watch, but it was a long and tedious flight, and I'm beat."
They exchanged a quick kiss.
"Mmmmm. I'll try not to wake you when I come to bed."
Then her footsteps strolled away down the hallway, Masters foot sliding over my face as he stood and dropped his pants.
"Take them off, bitch," he instructed, returning to his seat.
I backed myself out from underneath them, sitting back on my feet to tug his pants and his underwear off from around his ankles, his shirt hitting me in the face just a moment later.
"Put it all in the laundry, then I need to piss."
Hurrying there and back, I scooped up the head of his cock with my tongue and wrapped my lips gently around it, my chin resting on the chair seat while I waited to feel the warmth of his piss fill my mouth.
I hadn't liked Masters piss at first, but I was eager for it now. Master had told me, Master had taught me. I was lucky to get Masters cock in my mouth when he needed to piss, lucky that he gave me more value than his toilet. Master pissed in my mouth to reward me, to let me know that he was still pleased with me. I heard him moan in relief, and I found that I was happy to give him that comfort.
There were a few last squirts, and he pushed my head down onto his cock, its entire, soft length filling my mouth and throat.
"Now suck it, bitch. I want to fuck."
It swelled between my lips as I bobbed up and down on it, my nose getting further and further from his patch of pubic hair as his cock thickened and lengthened. I was whimpering gratefully, my hands coming up to caress his balls and stroke his shaft in time with my sucking.
"I'm going to give you a choice, bitch. Face on the floor with your ass in the air, or on your back with your legs in the air."
I didn't respond with an answer, my tongue busily licking and slurping the head of his cock. He watched for a few moments, then said "Now, bitch."
I rolled onto my back and pulled my les up, spreading them as wide as I could. He slid off the chair and onto his knees, then pressed his full weight on top of me as he thrust his entire cock inside with one smooth stroke, my feet pressed against his chest, his muscular arms wrapped around my legs and trapping my arms.
"Uunngh!" I squeezed my eyes shut as I moaned. It hurt, but it felt wonderful at the same time.
Master was fucking, ramming his big, beautiful, glorious cock into his hot, eager pussy.
Thank you, Master, thank you, Master. I love you, Master. I worship you, Master. I love your big cock, Master, your big, beautiful cock. You deserve a bitch, Master. I'm a good bitch, Master. I'm a lucky bitch, Master.
He pushed himself up on his hands and looked down at his cock to watch it slide in and out of his pussy. I closed my eyes again, concentrating on feeling every inch as it drove deep inside of me.
Master was fucking. I cracked my eyes open so I could watch him, his arm and chest muscles rippling, his beautiful chest hair, his abdomen undulating as he slid into me again and again, a look of intense concentration on his face.
It started at the base of my balls, then wrapped around the base of my cock, that sweet pain you feel at the onset of an orgasm, and I couldn't hold it back as it ran to the tip of my cock limp in its cage. I started to moan aloud as it built and it built, and nearly shouted as I felt myself shoot.
Pulling out, Master flipped me roughly onto my hands and knees and thrust himself in again. Pushing my face to the floor, he fucked me brutally, grabbing my hips and pulling me back hard against him as he slammed his cock inside.
It didn't hurt at first, but it didn't feel as wonderful. I had wanted to be fucked so bad, and it had been wonderful until I came. Now I just wanted Master to stop, to have his climax and pull himself out.
I knew I didn't have a choice, though. I would never have a choice. I was Masters whore, Masters slave, and what I wanted or didn't want didn't matter to Master. I was for his pleasure, not my own.
At last I heard him grunting, and the grunts turned into a low, long moan as his cock exploded inside of me. Ramming it in couple more times, he lay over me, his warm, hairy chest pressed against my back. Grabbing my hair, he growled in my ear.
"Did you enjoy your fuck, bitch?"
"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master," I whined.
I had enjoyed it. Very much at first, though not so much the end. It had been painful, my pussy still sore and throbbing around Masters softening cock.
"Of course you did. You came just like a little girl, with just my big cock slamming into your tight little pussy. What a good little whore you are."
I was proud of his praise, glad to be called his good whore, but I was glad it was over, and was hoping that he'd pull out soon. I knew I was Masters slave and Masters whore, but I found myself eager for the night to be over and to be in my bed.
At last he pulled out and pushed himself up into his chair. Snapping his fingers, he pointed to his crotch, and I had no choice but to crawl between his legs as he spread them.
I could taste myself on him, smell my pussy on his cock as I began to lick and suck. I told myself that I was a lucky whore, lucky to have such a wonderful Master; strict, but not cruel, with a huge, gorgeous cock. I wanted to feel the love and adoration I had felt for him before, but now it seemed all I could think of was doing what I had to do until I didn't have to do it anymore.
I didn't want Master to be dissatisfied, though, so I did my best to pretend to be eager, and after a few moments he seemed satisfied.
"Good girl. Now get a brush and a pail and a rag, and clean up the cum spots on the carpet. When you're done with that, get ready for bed."
I was glad to, and once I had his coffee prepped and my teeth brushed, I crawled gratefully onto my mattress.
Becoming Daddy's Bitch -- Chapter 11
Told to suck, I wet my lips and pushed my nose into his thick, dark patch of pubic hair, his incredible scent filling my nostrils as his soft cock filled my mouth, my tongue caressing its underside as I moved up and down on it. Master was right. Not only did I need it, I craved it, looking forward to every moment that Master used me and humiliated me, every chance to kiss his feet and lick his balls and suck y
His cock swelled in my mouth, spreading my jaw and pushing my nose further and further from that coarse, curly patch of hair. It drove deeper into my throat than it ever had before, and I was both surprised and happy that over half of it was disappearing between my lips. I drew up its length and slavered it head with my tongue, exploring its shape and teasing his piss slit, eager to feel that big, mushroom head sliding back into my throat again. If only I could open my throat further, could feel the entire length of his cock filling my gullet. Thank you, Master, thank you Master, thank you Master. What a lucky bitch I am to be sucking such a glorious cock. My clit hurt from the pressure in its cage, but it only made me want his cock more, taking it in my right hand as my left hand cupped his balls, my tongue licking a meandering path down his shaft. Moaning and sighing, I lifted his balls to my lips and sucked at them gently, my hand still stroking his cock above me. I loved Masters balls. Masters big, beautiful balls. It was where a slave and a bitch belonged, licking her Masters balls. And I was that "her," that cunt and that whore and that bitch and that slut, that little girl who only wanted to be fucked by her Master. I opened my throat and dove deep down onto his cock again, wanting to please him, wanting him to know that I was wholly and entirely his. "That's enough for now, bitch. Go get my pussy plug." I crawled away from him in a dream, getting to my feet only in my eagerness to obey. Presenting it to him on my knees with the lube and a dry cloth, I spun about and pushed my ass high into the air, placing myself as close to him as possible. "That's a sweet bitch," he said as he lubed his pussy, working his fingers up inside of it. Then he pushed in the plug, and my eyes rolled as I moaned out loud. "Now get me a beer, cunt." I crawled to the kitchen to fetch it, then opened it and set it at his side, returning to my knees and pressing my face against the carpet. I wanted him to command me, to tell me what I was to do. I wanted to do whatever was next because I was told to. "Are you glad to have my plug in your pussy, whore?" "Yes, Master!" "Now go change the sheets on the bed. Your Mistress isn't going to want to smell you on them." I crawled away again, getting to my feet only when I was past his line of sight. I had only just stripped the bed and was struggling with the fitted sheet when Master walked in behind me and turned into the bathroom.
"Come here, bitch!" I could hear the irritation in his voice.
The moment I stepped into the bathroom I saw the towels scattered across the floor, and I knew what I had done wrong, or, rather, what I hadn't done.
"Go finish the bed," he growled a he kicked the towels aside and dropped his pants to sit on the toilet.
I knew that I was in trouble, that I was going to get punished. I had been so nervous about my Mistress coming home, that I had completely forgotten what Master had told me during my training. Shaking nervously, I struggled the pulled the sheets into place and put on the pillow covers, and was just unfolding the quilt when Master strolled into the room and over to his closet. Shutting the door, he stepped up behind me, and the next thing I knew I was face down on the bed with his knee pressed down on my back. Flipping the skirt out of his way, he brought his belt down hard across my ass.
I yelped and screamed with every strike, clutching the quilt and the bedsheet in my fists, every slap of the belt growing more painful than the last, and din no time I was bawling so hard I could barely breath. Then he was off me, and I heard the clink of metal as he returned the belt to his closet.
"When you're finished, you can come and apologize, and if I'm satisfied, I might forgo further punishment."
Still sobbing uncontrollably, I couldn't answer, could barely even get my body to respond to his command. I wanted to be angry with Master for being so harsh, but I wasn't. I was upset with myself for being so dumb and not being able to remember what I was told. I wanted Master to own me. I wanted to please him and be a good slave. I was just too stupid to be able to do it right. That was why Master yelled at me. That was why Master punished me.
Finishing the bed, I returned to the bathroom to put everything back in its place, using the damp towels to wipe out the tub and the sink and dry off the counter, wincing in pain with every movement. Gathering them all up, I glanced around, then dropped them again to straighten out the hand towels and clean off the mirror, turning around so I could see the reflection of my ass. It was beet red, and so sore that even the silky fabric of the tiny pink skirt felt rough when it brushed against my cheeks.
I had been a naughty girl, and Master was expecting an apology.
I dumped the towels into the laundry, and returned meekly to his feet, finding his sitting at the kitchen table and chatting on his phone. I didn't hear what he said, didn't pay any attention at all to the words as he spoke them above me, but pressed my face to the tile to lick urgently at his big toe. I had to please him, had to satisfy him so he wouldn't punish me more, had to convince him how sorry I was for being such a stupid slave. I wanted him to fuck me, to show me that he forgave me and that he was still please to have me as his bitch. He slapped me once with his foot, the pushed all five of his toes into my mouth. I licked and whined and licked some more, then licked and kissed the top of his foot as he dropped it back into place, working my way to his arch and to the bottom of his foot, my ass squirming high into the air.
He gave me only a few minutes before grabbing my collar as he stood, still talking on the phone as he dragged me crawling into the living room and into the far corner, the chain between my ankles pulling taut with each stride as I struggled to keep up with him. With one arm, he yanked me into the air, the collar biting the skin on my neck, and set me on my feet. Releasing the collar, he pushed my face into the corner.
"Hands behind your back," he growled into my ear, then turned and walked away as a fresh set of tears started running down my face.
I was overwhelmed with emotions; shame, humiliation, joy, gratitude. Here I was, a fifteen year old boy, naked and hairless, collared and chained and dressed in pink stockings and a skirt, my ass spanked red and standing in a corner, the man who was once my father now my Master and my owner.
I didn't want to admit it, but I was glad that he had spanked me.
I didn't like it. I didn't like the pain, didn't want the pain. But...but...slaves deserved to be punished, didn't they? Slaves were supposed to be punished when they displeased their Masters. I continued to sob, wondering if Master was pleased with me, or if he regretted raising such a stupid bitch.
No...no. Master was just teaching me. Master wanted me to be a good slave, and was just reminding me that there were consequences to displeasing him, to forgetting to do what I had been taught. I was just too dumb to learn.
His voice drifted slowly into my awareness, though I didn't really hear the words he spoke. I heard the refrigerator door, and the pop and the hiss of a beer being opened, then the crinkle of leather as he sat on the couch behind me, still responding the voice on the other end of his phone.
"Yeah, see you on Monday," were the first words that made any sense to me. I could hear his movements behind me, hear his phone as it hit the table, hear the ring of the beer can as it struck the wooden coaster. With a shuffle and a sigh, he called me to him.
"Right here, on your feet," he pointed in front of the couch.
I was nervous as I scuttled to the spot.
"Turn around."
I half expected another slap across my still burning ass cheeks, but he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me onto his lap, adjusting me until my right shoulder was under his left arm, my head resting against his shoulder. Sliding his right arm under my knees, he lifted my legs over me, nearly bringing my knees to my chest. Spreading them apart, he cupped my crotch, his palm caressing my balls as his fingers stroked my taint. I moaned in delight, feeling my clit starting to swell.
Girl. He was telling me I was a girl. His girl. His little slut dressed in pink and white, my pussy eager for my Master.
His hand rubbed roughly across my tender ass cheeks, and I winced at the shock of pain. Still sniffling and sobbing, I nodded into his chest.
"Yes, it was. Because you forgot your training. Because you weren't thinking of me, and what I taught you...but because you were only thinking of yourself."
His finger traced around the butt plug, and my clit hardened even further, pushing against the inside of the cage. I was being scolded, but I moaned in delight, my breath coming in short gasps as I tried to listen to what I was being told.
"I know that this is what you want, that you want to be my slave and my property. And I know that you're trying very hard to please me..."
His finger slid up inside me, pushing on the butt plug and filling me even further. Whimpering, I began gyrating my hips, wanting to feel his finger drive into me further, and nodded, still sniffing back the last of my tears.
"But you only want to please me so that I reward you by using you for sex."
He dug his finer in deep, then slid it out, adding a second finger as he pushed it in again, eliciting another moan from me. I knew that he was right. I tried hard to please him, tried hard to be good and to obey, because I wanted his cock in my mouth. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted him to use my body to please his cock.
Properly reprimanded, I nodded against him once more.
"I'm sorry, Master," I squeaked.
"You can apologize later. Right now I want you to listen. I'm glad you made a mistake. I want you to know that I will punish you. And I will punish you. I will punish you often, until you truly understand what you are and where your thoughts should be. You are lucky to be allowed to suck my cock, but you don't suck it for your pleasure. You suck it for mine!"
He worked his fingers in and out of my hole, pressing on my prostrate, my little clit shrinking as my pussy was aroused.
"Yes, Master!" I moaned, pushing my pussy against his fingers.
"Now you can apologize to me, slut, and if you can convince me that you're sorry, and that it's truly me you want to please, I might forego further punishment for you for this evening."
His fingers slid from my pussy as he opened his arms, and I curled myself off his lap and onto the floor, tucking my knees under me and scooting backwards as he spread his legs and stretched out his feet
I had to kiss my Masters feet. I had to show him how contrite I was, how much I wanted to please him. I didn't want to be punished again. I wanted Master to be pleased with me, to show him that I would think only of him.
I stuck out my tongue and sucked in his big toe, running my tongue over it. Sucking and slurping, I drilled my tongue between his toes and moved onto the next. How could I make sure that Master was pleased with me? How could I please him so I wouldn't get punished? What could I do that I didn't always do? I fretted and worried that Master wouldn't be satisfied, that I wouldn't convince him I was only thinking of him.
And then I realized that I wasn't. I was still only thinking of me.
Think only of Master.
How?
I looked at my tongue as it licked the top of his foot.
Think only of Master.
What did Master feel when I licked his foot?
I realized then that it wasn't about me apologizing, or proving myself so I wouldn't get punished. It was about what Master felt, how Master felt, how good Master felt.
I tried to imagine what he was feeling; the pressure here, how it massaged the muscles of his them. Were his feet cold? No, not cold. Soft. Firm. Warm. I licked them again, dragged my tongue across his arch, pushed it on his heel, trying to massage any pain he might have away, my hands coming up to caress his foot, my fingers kneading gently at the muscles. I smeared my face on his foot, his foot wet with my spit, and sucked in his toes again as my hands worked their way up his ankles. One toe at a time, I worked them with my lips and tongue, stretching them gently and massaging them before lifting them with my nose to lick at the ball of his foot.
Good bitch. Think only of Master.
Reaching out, I found his other foot, sighing and moaning plunged my face toward it, hungry to comfort it in equal measure, barley aware of the delightful, painful pulsing of my clit in its cage. It deserved it, Masters foot. Master deserved all my attention, my every thought, living only for his comfort. I felt a euphoria I had never felt before, knowing that this was the only place I wanted to be, the only thing that I was. And it was all because of Master. Master had shown me what I truly was, and where I belonged in his life.
Thank you, Master, thank you, Master, thank you, Master.
I hadn't even realized she had walked into the room until I heard her voice from the direction of her chair. My euphoria faded immediately, and I was almost a little mad until I heard the conversation above me.
"Well, it's over and done with. As we hoped, the ex-wife left him the villa. Or, as I hoped, anyway."
"He's aware of the plans that you have for him," Master chuckled above me as I struggled to keep my attention focused on his foot.
"Oh, he knows. And he's actually rather eager for it. When I described to him all of the benefits of being my slave, he went right to his knees to kiss my feet and beg me for it."
"Well, from what you've told me about him, I always thought he was the perfect candidate. How much did he lose in the divorce?"
I could hear the grim satisfaction in her voice when she answered.
"Everything, pretty much, which is another reason why he's so eager. The money he'll receive from me for buying the villa will just barely cover his debts, so he'll have nothing, anyway, and he's well aware that anything he does have will become mine as soon as he signs the contract, which we'll be doing first thing tomorrow."
"Well, we knew that it would happen. That's one of the reasons I started him as early as I did."
He pushed his toes into my mouth.
"Focus on my feet, whore," he instructed gently. "Unless someone is speaking directly to you, what people are saying is none of your business. The only things I want you to know are the things I tell you to know. Otherwise, I want your full attention on what you are doing to serve and to please your Master."
I was trying, but I was completely taken aback by what I had heard. Mistress had her own slave? Mistress was buying a villa?
And, suddenly, it all made sense. Master had said that I had been born to be his slave, that he had planned it. That they had planned it. I hadn't considered that my Mistress might want a slave. Not me as a slave, but someone else. And suddenly I was relieved. I wouldn't be serving her as my Mistress, and would be the sole possession of my Master. His foot once again became the center of my world, and I licked and I sucked at it passionately, feeling my clit start to swell in its cage once again.
Thank you, Master, thank you, Master, thank you, Master.
The conversation continued above me, and though I didn't listen to it, I understood the gist of it. Mistress was leaving, was moving in with her slave and taking over his life. I rolled onto my back, my Masters feet both resting on my face as I licked their bottoms, and wriggled my tongue between his toes. I was in heaven, looking forward to a future alone with my Master.
"Enough, bitch. Pay attention." His voice was firmly instructive. "I want the bed turned down, and my pussy unplugged. And don't forget the serving tray from your Mistress's office."
I waited for him to remove his feet from my face, then rolled onto my knees.
"Yes, Master," I answered, hoping it was appropriate.
"And what do you do when you're finished, bitch?" He leaned forward to look down on me.
I had been told that.
"Go back to kissing your feet, Master."
I was intensely aware that my Mistress was there, and I suddenly wanted to be on my best behavior for my Master. Not so much to show her that I was a good slave, but to show her the power my Master had over me. To make her proud of my Master.
"Good girl," he reached out and pushed his thumb into my mouth, clasping my jaw gently as I closed my lips around it, my eyes focused on his crotch. "You can take the skirt and stockings and panties off, too. I want you naked and ready to be fucked."
I blushed, finding myself happy and proud, gasping out a "Thank you, Master," as he pulled his thumb from my mouth and I hurried to crawl away.
It had been kind of Master to remind me of the serving tray. Without it, I know I would have forgotten about it, and I knew that I would be punished if I had. I would be getting punished anyway, as Master had made quite clear to me, but at least it would be one less punishment.
I groaned with relief when I pulled the plug from Masters pussy. My clit was still hard in its cage, so it was difficult, but at last I had the opportunity to empty my bladder. I scrubbed the pussy plug and set it aside, then gave Masters pussy a good wash with the rag. I couldn't wait for Master to push his big cock up inside of me.
They were still talking when I returned, but the words were only noise as I crawled from the end of the hallway to my Masters outstretched feet. All of my focus was on my Master. I worshipped Master; his beautiful, muscular body, his handsome face, his strictness and his sternness and the kindnesses he showed me, my clit aching for release from its cage again as I licked at his feet and sucked on his toes. Master owned me. I was his, and I would never have to think about anything except my Master; no school, or job, or having to learn how to drive, or having to make money, or trying to pay bills. All of the things that had scared me were no longer there, because Master had taken them all away.
I couldn't love my Master more.
"Beer, bitch," Master pressed the ball of his foot against my nose.
I returned with it quickly, crawling back to resume kissing his feet, but he stepped on my head, pushing it to the floor and holding it there with firm pressure. I held still, feeling the softness of his arch against my cheek as I waited in anticipation. Their conversation droned on, but I didn't pay attention to a single word.
Master. Master above me. Master resting with his foot on his slave, drinking his beer. In control of his life, in control of his slave. Manly, muscular, masculine, his huge, thick, incredible cock resting lazily over his gorgeous, wonderful balls, just waiting to plunge into his pussy and fuck it.
Thank you, Master. I am nothing, Master. Thank you for resting your foot on my face, Master.
My clit was hard.
I saw Mistresses feet move, saw her disappear behind me and heard her over me as she spoke to my Master.
"Enjoy your fuck, dear. I would stay and watch, but it was a long and tedious flight, and I'm beat."
They exchanged a quick kiss.
"Mmmmm. I'll try not to wake you when I come to bed."
Then her footsteps strolled away down the hallway, Masters foot sliding over my face as he stood and dropped his pants.
"Take them off, bitch," he instructed, returning to his seat.
I backed myself out from underneath them, sitting back on my feet to tug his pants and his underwear off from around his ankles, his shirt hitting me in the face just a moment later.
"Put it all in the laundry, then I need to piss."
Hurrying there and back, I scooped up the head of his cock with my tongue and wrapped my lips gently around it, my chin resting on the chair seat while I waited to feel the warmth of his piss fill my mouth.
I hadn't liked Masters piss at first, but I was eager for it now. Master had told me, Master had taught me. I was lucky to get Masters cock in my mouth when he needed to piss, lucky that he gave me more value than his toilet. Master pissed in my mouth to reward me, to let me know that he was still pleased with me. I heard him moan in relief, and I found that I was happy to give him that comfort.
There were a few last squirts, and he pushed my head down onto his cock, its entire, soft length filling my mouth and throat.
"Now suck it, bitch. I want to fuck."
It swelled between my lips as I bobbed up and down on it, my nose getting further and further from his patch of pubic hair as his cock thickened and lengthened. I was whimpering gratefully, my hands coming up to caress his balls and stroke his shaft in time with my sucking.
"I'm going to give you a choice, bitch. Face on the floor with your ass in the air, or on your back with your legs in the air."
I didn't respond with an answer, my tongue busily licking and slurping the head of his cock. He watched for a few moments, then said "Now, bitch."
I rolled onto my back and pulled my les up, spreading them as wide as I could. He slid off the chair and onto his knees, then pressed his full weight on top of me as he thrust his entire cock inside with one smooth stroke, my feet pressed against his chest, his muscular arms wrapped around my legs and trapping my arms.
"Uunngh!" I squeezed my eyes shut as I moaned. It hurt, but it felt wonderful at the same time.
Master was fucking, ramming his big, beautiful, glorious cock into his hot, eager pussy.
Thank you, Master, thank you, Master. I love you, Master. I worship you, Master. I love your big cock, Master, your big, beautiful cock. You deserve a bitch, Master. I'm a good bitch, Master. I'm a lucky bitch, Master.
He pushed himself up on his hands and looked down at his cock to watch it slide in and out of his pussy. I closed my eyes again, concentrating on feeling every inch as it drove deep inside of me.
Master was fucking. I cracked my eyes open so I could watch him, his arm and chest muscles rippling, his beautiful chest hair, his abdomen undulating as he slid into me again and again, a look of intense concentration on his face.
It started at the base of my balls, then wrapped around the base of my cock, that sweet pain you feel at the onset of an orgasm, and I couldn't hold it back as it ran to the tip of my cock limp in its cage. I started to moan aloud as it built and it built, and nearly shouted as I felt myself shoot.
Pulling out, Master flipped me roughly onto my hands and knees and thrust himself in again. Pushing my face to the floor, he fucked me brutally, grabbing my hips and pulling me back hard against him as he slammed his cock inside.
It didn't hurt at first, but it didn't feel as wonderful. I had wanted to be fucked so bad, and it had been wonderful until I came. Now I just wanted Master to stop, to have his climax and pull himself out.
I knew I didn't have a choice, though. I would never have a choice. I was Masters whore, Masters slave, and what I wanted or didn't want didn't matter to Master. I was for his pleasure, not my own.
At last I heard him grunting, and the grunts turned into a low, long moan as his cock exploded inside of me. Ramming it in couple more times, he lay over me, his warm, hairy chest pressed against my back. Grabbing my hair, he growled in my ear.
"Did you enjoy your fuck, bitch?"
"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master," I whined.
I had enjoyed it. Very much at first, though not so much the end. It had been painful, my pussy still sore and throbbing around Masters softening cock.
"Of course you did. You came just like a little girl, with just my big cock slamming into your tight little pussy. What a good little whore you are."
I was proud of his praise, glad to be called his good whore, but I was glad it was over, and was hoping that he'd pull out soon. I knew I was Masters slave and Masters whore, but I found myself eager for the night to be over and to be in my bed.
At last he pulled out and pushed himself up into his chair. Snapping his fingers, he pointed to his crotch, and I had no choice but to crawl between his legs as he spread them.
I could taste myself on him, smell my pussy on his cock as I began to lick and suck. I told myself that I was a lucky whore, lucky to have such a wonderful Master; strict, but not cruel, with a huge, gorgeous cock. I wanted to feel the love and adoration I had felt for him before, but now it seemed all I could think of was doing what I had to do until I didn't have to do it anymore.
I didn't want Master to be dissatisfied, though, so I did my best to pretend to be eager, and after a few moments he seemed satisfied.
"Good girl. Now get a brush and a pail and a rag, and clean up the cum spots on the carpet. When you're done with that, get ready for bed."
I was glad to, and once I had his coffee prepped and my teeth brushed, I crawled gratefully onto my mattress.
Becoming Daddy's Bitch -- Chapter 11
Told to suck, I wet my lips and pushed my nose into his thick, dark patch of pubic hair, his incredible scent filling my nostrils as his soft cock filled my mouth, my tongue caressing its underside as I moved up and down on it. Master was right. Not only did I need it, I craved it, looking forward to every moment that Master used me and humiliated me, every chance to kiss his feet and lick his balls and suck y
His cock swelled in my mouth, spreading my jaw and pushing my nose further and further from that coarse, curly patch of hair. It drove deeper into my throat than it ever had before, and I was both surprised and happy that over half of it was disappearing between my lips. I drew up its length and slavered it head with my tongue, exploring its shape and teasing his piss slit, eager to feel that big, mushroom head sliding back into my throat again. If only I could open my throat further, could feel the entire length of his cock filling my gullet. Thank you, Master, thank you Master, thank you Master. What a lucky bitch I am to be sucking such a glorious cock. My clit hurt from the pressure in its cage, but it only made me want his cock more, taking it in my right hand as my left hand cupped his balls, my tongue licking a meandering path down his shaft. Moaning and sighing, I lifted his balls to my lips and sucked at them gently, my hand still stroking his cock above me. I loved Masters balls. Masters big, beautiful balls. It was where a slave and a bitch belonged, licking her Masters balls. And I was that "her," that cunt and that whore and that bitch and that slut, that little girl who only wanted to be fucked by her Master. I opened my throat and dove deep down onto his cock again, wanting to please him, wanting him to know that I was wholly and entirely his. "That's enough for now, bitch. Go get my pussy plug." I crawled away from him in a dream, getting to my feet only in my eagerness to obey. Presenting it to him on my knees with the lube and a dry cloth, I spun about and pushed my ass high into the air, placing myself as close to him as possible. "That's a sweet bitch," he said as he lubed his pussy, working his fingers up inside of it. Then he pushed in the plug, and my eyes rolled as I moaned out loud. "Now get me a beer, cunt." I crawled to the kitchen to fetch it, then opened it and set it at his side, returning to my knees and pressing my face against the carpet. I wanted him to command me, to tell me what I was to do. I wanted to do whatever was next because I was told to. "Are you glad to have my plug in your pussy, whore?" "Yes, Master!" "Now go change the sheets on the bed. Your Mistress isn't going to want to smell you on them." I crawled away again, getting to my feet only when I was past his line of sight. I had only just stripped the bed and was struggling with the fitted sheet when Master walked in behind me and turned into the bathroom.
"Come here, bitch!" I could hear the irritation in his voice.
The moment I stepped into the bathroom I saw the towels scattered across the floor, and I knew what I had done wrong, or, rather, what I hadn't done.
"Go finish the bed," he growled a he kicked the towels aside and dropped his pants to sit on the toilet.
I knew that I was in trouble, that I was going to get punished. I had been so nervous about my Mistress coming home, that I had completely forgotten what Master had told me during my training. Shaking nervously, I struggled the pulled the sheets into place and put on the pillow covers, and was just unfolding the quilt when Master strolled into the room and over to his closet. Shutting the door, he stepped up behind me, and the next thing I knew I was face down on the bed with his knee pressed down on my back. Flipping the skirt out of his way, he brought his belt down hard across my ass.
I yelped and screamed with every strike, clutching the quilt and the bedsheet in my fists, every slap of the belt growing more painful than the last, and din no time I was bawling so hard I could barely breath. Then he was off me, and I heard the clink of metal as he returned the belt to his closet.
"When you're finished, you can come and apologize, and if I'm satisfied, I might forgo further punishment."
Still sobbing uncontrollably, I couldn't answer, could barely even get my body to respond to his command. I wanted to be angry with Master for being so harsh, but I wasn't. I was upset with myself for being so dumb and not being able to remember what I was told. I wanted Master to own me. I wanted to please him and be a good slave. I was just too stupid to be able to do it right. That was why Master yelled at me. That was why Master punished me.
Finishing the bed, I returned to the bathroom to put everything back in its place, using the damp towels to wipe out the tub and the sink and dry off the counter, wincing in pain with every movement. Gathering them all up, I glanced around, then dropped them again to straighten out the hand towels and clean off the mirror, turning around so I could see the reflection of my ass. It was beet red, and so sore that even the silky fabric of the tiny pink skirt felt rough when it brushed against my cheeks.
I had been a naughty girl, and Master was expecting an apology.
I dumped the towels into the laundry, and returned meekly to his feet, finding his sitting at the kitchen table and chatting on his phone. I didn't hear what he said, didn't pay any attention at all to the words as he spoke them above me, but pressed my face to the tile to lick urgently at his big toe. I had to please him, had to satisfy him so he wouldn't punish me more, had to convince him how sorry I was for being such a stupid slave. I wanted him to fuck me, to show me that he forgave me and that he was still please to have me as his bitch. He slapped me once with his foot, the pushed all five of his toes into my mouth. I licked and whined and licked some more, then licked and kissed the top of his foot as he dropped it back into place, working my way to his arch and to the bottom of his foot, my ass squirming high into the air.
He gave me only a few minutes before grabbing my collar as he stood, still talking on the phone as he dragged me crawling into the living room and into the far corner, the chain between my ankles pulling taut with each stride as I struggled to keep up with him. With one arm, he yanked me into the air, the collar biting the skin on my neck, and set me on my feet. Releasing the collar, he pushed my face into the corner.
"Hands behind your back," he growled into my ear, then turned and walked away as a fresh set of tears started running down my face.
I was overwhelmed with emotions; shame, humiliation, joy, gratitude. Here I was, a fifteen year old boy, naked and hairless, collared and chained and dressed in pink stockings and a skirt, my ass spanked red and standing in a corner, the man who was once my father now my Master and my owner.
I didn't want to admit it, but I was glad that he had spanked me.
I didn't like it. I didn't like the pain, didn't want the pain. But...but...slaves deserved to be punished, didn't they? Slaves were supposed to be punished when they displeased their Masters. I continued to sob, wondering if Master was pleased with me, or if he regretted raising such a stupid bitch.
No...no. Master was just teaching me. Master wanted me to be a good slave, and was just reminding me that there were consequences to displeasing him, to forgetting to do what I had been taught. I was just too dumb to learn.
His voice drifted slowly into my awareness, though I didn't really hear the words he spoke. I heard the refrigerator door, and the pop and the hiss of a beer being opened, then the crinkle of leather as he sat on the couch behind me, still responding the voice on the other end of his phone.
"Yeah, see you on Monday," were the first words that made any sense to me. I could hear his movements behind me, hear his phone as it hit the table, hear the ring of the beer can as it struck the wooden coaster. With a shuffle and a sigh, he called me to him.
"Right here, on your feet," he pointed in front of the couch.
I was nervous as I scuttled to the spot.
"Turn around."
I half expected another slap across my still burning ass cheeks, but he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me onto his lap, adjusting me until my right shoulder was under his left arm, my head resting against his shoulder. Sliding his right arm under my knees, he lifted my legs over me, nearly bringing my knees to my chest. Spreading them apart, he cupped my crotch, his palm caressing my balls as his fingers stroked my taint. I moaned in delight, feeling my clit starting to swell.
Girl. He was telling me I was a girl. His girl. His little slut dressed in pink and white, my pussy eager for my Master.
His hand rubbed roughly across my tender ass cheeks, and I winced at the shock of pain. Still sniffling and sobbing, I nodded into his chest.
"Yes, it was. Because you forgot your training. Because you weren't thinking of me, and what I taught you...but because you were only thinking of yourself."
His finger traced around the butt plug, and my clit hardened even further, pushing against the inside of the cage. I was being scolded, but I moaned in delight, my breath coming in short gasps as I tried to listen to what I was being told.
"I know that this is what you want, that you want to be my slave and my property. And I know that you're trying very hard to please me..."
His finger slid up inside me, pushing on the butt plug and filling me even further. Whimpering, I began gyrating my hips, wanting to feel his finger drive into me further, and nodded, still sniffing back the last of my tears.
"But you only want to please me so that I reward you by using you for sex."
He dug his finer in deep, then slid it out, adding a second finger as he pushed it in again, eliciting another moan from me. I knew that he was right. I tried hard to please him, tried hard to be good and to obey, because I wanted his cock in my mouth. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted him to use my body to please his cock.
Properly reprimanded, I nodded against him once more.
"I'm sorry, Master," I squeaked.
"You can apologize later. Right now I want you to listen. I'm glad you made a mistake. I want you to know that I will punish you. And I will punish you. I will punish you often, until you truly understand what you are and where your thoughts should be. You are lucky to be allowed to suck my cock, but you don't suck it for your pleasure. You suck it for mine!"
He worked his fingers in and out of my hole, pressing on my prostrate, my little clit shrinking as my pussy was aroused.
"Yes, Master!" I moaned, pushing my pussy against his fingers.
"Now you can apologize to me, slut, and if you can convince me that you're sorry, and that it's truly me you want to please, I might forego further punishment for you for this evening."
His fingers slid from my pussy as he opened his arms, and I curled myself off his lap and onto the floor, tucking my knees under me and scooting backwards as he spread his legs and stretched out his feet
I had to kiss my Masters feet. I had to show him how contrite I was, how much I wanted to please him. I didn't want to be punished again. I wanted Master to be pleased with me, to show him that I would think only of him.
I stuck out my tongue and sucked in his big toe, running my tongue over it. Sucking and slurping, I drilled my tongue between his toes and moved onto the next. How could I make sure that Master was pleased with me? How could I please him so I wouldn't get punished? What could I do that I didn't always do? I fretted and worried that Master wouldn't be satisfied, that I wouldn't convince him I was only thinking of him.
And then I realized that I wasn't. I was still only thinking of me.
Think only of Master.
How?
I looked at my tongue as it licked the top of his foot.
Think only of Master.
What did Master feel when I licked his foot?
I realized then that it wasn't about me apologizing, or proving myself so I wouldn't get punished. It was about what Master felt, how Master felt, how good Master felt.
I tried to imagine what he was feeling; the pressure here, how it massaged the muscles of his them. Were his feet cold? No, not cold. Soft. Firm. Warm. I licked them again, dragged my tongue across his arch, pushed it on his heel, trying to massage any pain he might have away, my hands coming up to caress his foot, my fingers kneading gently at the muscles. I smeared my face on his foot, his foot wet with my spit, and sucked in his toes again as my hands worked their way up his ankles. One toe at a time, I worked them with my lips and tongue, stretching them gently and massaging them before lifting them with my nose to lick at the ball of his foot.
Good bitch. Think only of Master.
Reaching out, I found his other foot, sighing and moaning plunged my face toward it, hungry to comfort it in equal measure, barley aware of the delightful, painful pulsing of my clit in its cage. It deserved it, Masters foot. Master deserved all my attention, my every thought, living only for his comfort. I felt a euphoria I had never felt before, knowing that this was the only place I wanted to be, the only thing that I was. And it was all because of Master. Master had shown me what I truly was, and where I belonged in his life.
Thank you, Master, thank you, Master, thank you, Master.
I hadn't even realized she had walked into the room until I heard her voice from the direction of her chair. My euphoria faded immediately, and I was almost a little mad until I heard the conversation above me.
"Well, it's over and done with. As we hoped, the ex-wife left him the villa. Or, as I hoped, anyway."
"He's aware of the plans that you have for him," Master chuckled above me as I struggled to keep my attention focused on his foot.
"Oh, he knows. And he's actually rather eager for it. When I described to him all of the benefits of being my slave, he went right to his knees to kiss my feet and beg me for it."
"Well, from what you've told me about him, I always thought he was the perfect candidate. How much did he lose in the divorce?"
I could hear the grim satisfaction in her voice when she answered.
"Everything, pretty much, which is another reason why he's so eager. The money he'll receive from me for buying the villa will just barely cover his debts, so he'll have nothing, anyway, and he's well aware that anything he does have will become mine as soon as he signs the contract, which we'll be doing first thing tomorrow."
"Well, we knew that it would happen. That's one of the reasons I started him as early as I did."
He pushed his toes into my mouth.
"Focus on my feet, whore," he instructed gently. "Unless someone is speaking directly to you, what people are saying is none of your business. The only things I want you to know are the things I tell you to know. Otherwise, I want your full attention on what you are doing to serve and to please your Master."
I was trying, but I was completely taken aback by what I had heard. Mistress had her own slave? Mistress was buying a villa?
And, suddenly, it all made sense. Master had said that I had been born to be his slave, that he had planned it. That they had planned it. I hadn't considered that my Mistress might want a slave. Not me as a slave, but someone else. And suddenly I was relieved. I wouldn't be serving her as my Mistress, and would be the sole possession of my Master. His foot once again became the center of my world, and I licked and I sucked at it passionately, feeling my clit start to swell in its cage once again.
Thank you, Master, thank you, Master, thank you, Master.
The conversation continued above me, and though I didn't listen to it, I understood the gist of it. Mistress was leaving, was moving in with her slave and taking over his life. I rolled onto my back, my Masters feet both resting on my face as I licked their bottoms, and wriggled my tongue between his toes. I was in heaven, looking forward to a future alone with my Master.
"Enough, bitch. Pay attention." His voice was firmly instructive. "I want the bed turned down, and my pussy unplugged. And don't forget the serving tray from your Mistress's office."
I waited for him to remove his feet from my face, then rolled onto my knees.
"Yes, Master," I answered, hoping it was appropriate.
"And what do you do when you're finished, bitch?" He leaned forward to look down on me.
I had been told that.
"Go back to kissing your feet, Master."
I was intensely aware that my Mistress was there, and I suddenly wanted to be on my best behavior for my Master. Not so much to show her that I was a good slave, but to show her the power my Master had over me. To make her proud of my Master.
"Good girl," he reached out and pushed his thumb into my mouth, clasping my jaw gently as I closed my lips around it, my eyes focused on his crotch. "You can take the skirt and stockings and panties off, too. I want you naked and ready to be fucked."
I blushed, finding myself happy and proud, gasping out a "Thank you, Master," as he pulled his thumb from my mouth and I hurried to crawl away.
It had been kind of Master to remind me of the serving tray. Without it, I know I would have forgotten about it, and I knew that I would be punished if I had. I would be getting punished anyway, as Master had made quite clear to me, but at least it would be one less punishment.
I groaned with relief when I pulled the plug from Masters pussy. My clit was still hard in its cage, so it was difficult, but at last I had the opportunity to empty my bladder. I scrubbed the pussy plug and set it aside, then gave Masters pussy a good wash with the rag. I couldn't wait for Master to push his big cock up inside of me.
They were still talking when I returned, but the words were only noise as I crawled from the end of the hallway to my Masters outstretched feet. All of my focus was on my Master. I worshipped Master; his beautiful, muscular body, his handsome face, his strictness and his sternness and the kindnesses he showed me, my clit aching for release from its cage again as I licked at his feet and sucked on his toes. Master owned me. I was his, and I would never have to think about anything except my Master; no school, or job, or having to learn how to drive, or having to make money, or trying to pay bills. All of the things that had scared me were no longer there, because Master had taken them all away.
I couldn't love my Master more.
"Beer, bitch," Master pressed the ball of his foot against my nose.
I returned with it quickly, crawling back to resume kissing his feet, but he stepped on my head, pushing it to the floor and holding it there with firm pressure. I held still, feeling the softness of his arch against my cheek as I waited in anticipation. Their conversation droned on, but I didn't pay attention to a single word.
Master. Master above me. Master resting with his foot on his slave, drinking his beer. In control of his life, in control of his slave. Manly, muscular, masculine, his huge, thick, incredible cock resting lazily over his gorgeous, wonderful balls, just waiting to plunge into his pussy and fuck it.
Thank you, Master. I am nothing, Master. Thank you for resting your foot on my face, Master.
My clit was hard.
I saw Mistresses feet move, saw her disappear behind me and heard her over me as she spoke to my Master.
"Enjoy your fuck, dear. I would stay and watch, but it was a long and tedious flight, and I'm beat."
They exchanged a quick kiss.
"Mmmmm. I'll try not to wake you when I come to bed."
Then her footsteps strolled away down the hallway, Masters foot sliding over my face as he stood and dropped his pants.
"Take them off, bitch," he instructed, returning to his seat.
I backed myself out from underneath them, sitting back on my feet to tug his pants and his underwear off from around his ankles, his shirt hitting me in the face just a moment later.
"Put it all in the laundry, then I need to piss."
Hurrying there and back, I scooped up the head of his cock with my tongue and wrapped my lips gently around it, my chin resting on the chair seat while I waited to feel the warmth of his piss fill my mouth.
I hadn't liked Masters piss at first, but I was eager for it now. Master had told me, Master had taught me. I was lucky to get Masters cock in my mouth when he needed to piss, lucky that he gave me more value than his toilet. Master pissed in my mouth to reward me, to let me know that he was still pleased with me. I heard him moan in relief, and I found that I was happy to give him that comfort.
There were a few last squirts, and he pushed my head down onto his cock, its entire, soft length filling my mouth and throat.
"Now suck it, bitch. I want to fuck."
It swelled between my lips as I bobbed up and down on it, my nose getting further and further from his patch of pubic hair as his cock thickened and lengthened. I was whimpering gratefully, my hands coming up to caress his balls and stroke his shaft in time with my sucking.
"I'm going to give you a choice, bitch. Face on the floor with your ass in the air, or on your back with your legs in the air."
I didn't respond with an answer, my tongue busily licking and slurping the head of his cock. He watched for a few moments, then said "Now, bitch."
I rolled onto my back and pulled my les up, spreading them as wide as I could. He slid off the chair and onto his knees, then pressed his full weight on top of me as he thrust his entire cock inside with one smooth stroke, my feet pressed against his chest, his muscular arms wrapped around my legs and trapping my arms.
"Uunngh!" I squeezed my eyes shut as I moaned. It hurt, but it felt wonderful at the same time.
Master was fucking, ramming his big, beautiful, glorious cock into his hot, eager pussy.
Thank you, Master, thank you, Master. I love you, Master. I worship you, Master. I love your big cock, Master, your big, beautiful cock. You deserve a bitch, Master. I'm a good bitch, Master. I'm a lucky bitch, Master.
He pushed himself up on his hands and looked down at his cock to watch it slide in and out of his pussy. I closed my eyes again, concentrating on feeling every inch as it drove deep inside of me.
Master was fucking. I cracked my eyes open so I could watch him, his arm and chest muscles rippling, his beautiful chest hair, his abdomen undulating as he slid into me again and again, a look of intense concentration on his face.
It started at the base of my balls, then wrapped around the base of my cock, that sweet pain you feel at the onset of an orgasm, and I couldn't hold it back as it ran to the tip of my cock limp in its cage. I started to moan aloud as it built and it built, and nearly shouted as I felt myself shoot.
Pulling out, Master flipped me roughly onto my hands and knees and thrust himself in again. Pushing my face to the floor, he fucked me brutally, grabbing my hips and pulling me back hard against him as he slammed his cock inside.
It didn't hurt at first, but it didn't feel as wonderful. I had wanted to be fucked so bad, and it had been wonderful until I came. Now I just wanted Master to stop, to have his climax and pull himself out.
I knew I didn't have a choice, though. I would never have a choice. I was Masters whore, Masters slave, and what I wanted or didn't want didn't matter to Master. I was for his pleasure, not my own.
At last I heard him grunting, and the grunts turned into a low, long moan as his cock exploded inside of me. Ramming it in couple more times, he lay over me, his warm, hairy chest pressed against my back. Grabbing my hair, he growled in my ear.
"Did you enjoy your fuck, bitch?"
"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master," I whined.
I had enjoyed it. Very much at first, though not so much the end. It had been painful, my pussy still sore and throbbing around Masters softening cock.
"Of course you did. You came just like a little girl, with just my big cock slamming into your tight little pussy. What a good little whore you are."
I was proud of his praise, glad to be called his good whore, but I was glad it was over, and was hoping that he'd pull out soon. I knew I was Masters slave and Masters whore, but I found myself eager for the night to be over and to be in my bed.
At last he pulled out and pushed himself up into his chair. Snapping his fingers, he pointed to his crotch, and I had no choice but to crawl between his legs as he spread them.
I could taste myself on him, smell my pussy on his cock as I began to lick and suck. I told myself that I was a lucky whore, lucky to have such a wonderful Master; strict, but not cruel, with a huge, gorgeous cock. I wanted to feel the love and adoration I had felt for him before, but now it seemed all I could think of was doing what I had to do until I didn't have to do it anymore.
I didn't want Master to be dissatisfied, though, so I did my best to pretend to be eager, and after a few moments he seemed satisfied.
"Good girl. Now get a brush and a pail and a rag, and clean up the cum spots on the carpet. When you're done with that, get ready for bed."
I was glad to, and once I had his coffee prepped and my teeth brushed, I crawled gratefully onto my mattress.
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