For my Master('s) (5 page)

Three

I become more greedy with every moment that passes, appreciatively sucking on him while my tongue explores every inch of his erected length. God he tastes good, so fresh and clean, yet with a distinctive sweet taste that is his own.

He starts moaning as I take him in deeper, openly showing my craving for him. I can feel him lean into me, trying to get as much of my affection as possible.

"Good girl," he breathes and my heart jumps at the phrase.

"God, you're such a good cock sucker."

I can feel his eyes on me. His pleasure is such a turn on. I want him inside me. Between my legs. Deep.

But he has other ideas for now. I notice him reaching for the flogger that is still laying next to me on the bed.

"You're doing a very good job," he whispers while he drapes the flogger on my back, softly dragging it over my skin towards my behind. "But I'm not done punishing you."

And with that I receive the first stroke. I flinch, but don't stop worshipping his cock. It actually hurt less than his hand, but that is only because he is going soft on me. And I know it won't stay that way. The next one is stronger, leaving my skin with a delightful little burn. The third one stings enough for me to wince. And he goes on. Still increasing the intensity with every stroke until each one of them feels as sharp as hot knives cutting into my skin.

I try to withstand, panting and whimpering with every new hot light of pain that he inflicts on my tortured skin until breathing becomes to challenging for me to continue worshipping his cock. Little drops of salty sweat are building on my forehead, eventually running down my face, joining the tears. I no longer hold my voice down and accompany every hit with a yelp of pain and pleasure. He assaults my ass, considering each cheek with respective attention, my back, the sides of my thighs - nothing is left untouched by the leather straps of the small flogger. I squirm under each touch, breaking a sweat on my entire body as I am letting the agonizing pain take over.    

Until the strongest, the stroke that turns out to be the last one. The sting is like molten iron, cutting deep into my skin - it is the strongest pain anybody has ever inflicted upon on me. I scream, yanking my head up as far as I can and start to sob.

He stops immediately and puts the flogger away, observing me carefully while tears are running down my face uncontrollably. He lifts me up by my hair, but more tenderly than he had last time.

I catch my breath and mirror his gaze through watery eyes.

"Please..." I whisper.

"Please what?" He asks, his voice is soft but his gaze unyielding.

I know he's trying to assess the situation. Had he gone too far? No. I don't want to stop my cathartic sobbing, but I try to calm myself for his sake. There is still something I needed. Release.

"Please, Sir. Fuck me." I beg.

A smile runs across his face. "Is that what you want, baby girl?"

I nod. "Please, fuck me. Hard."

He gently pushes me back down on the bed and I eagerly comply, resting my head on the sheets and hollowing my back to stick my assaulted ass up as far as possible. He gets up from the bed and I hear him tear open a condom package and pulling it over his rock hard cock. Only a few seconds pass, but it feels like an eternity until he finally kneels down behind me, placing the tip of his cock at my wet entry, teasing me for a few moments.

I sigh with craving, leaning back, inviting him - and moan loudly when he finally forces his cock inside me. He feels gigantic, filling me like no one has before. I had felt his remarkable girth between my lips, but it feels even bigger now that I finally feel him inside me.

He starts thrusting, careful at first, but increasing his speed soon, grabbing me by the hips and showing no mercy.

I remember his rules from earlier and turn my head to the side so that my mouth is free to speak. "Thank you, Sir. Thank you!"

I hear him chuckle in approval as he continues to fuck me. His pelvis is pounding against the burning skin of my behind, sending new waves of pleasure and pain up my spine with every thrust.

I am too aroused to hold back for long. I yearn for release, my body is burning, tired, tortured and trembling with lust. Harbingers of my impending orgasm are rolling over my body. The tension is almost unbearable.

He leans over me and lets go of my hips with one hand to reach down to my clit. I groan as he strokes my wetness while still pounding me as hard as possible.

My orgasm hits me with a giant, sudden wave of pleasure, taking over completely. I scream almost as loud as I did during the flogging. For a few moments I am blinded with sensation, pleasure so overwhelmingly strong, I almost lose consciousness.

I can feel him find his release inside me just as my orgasm starts to die down. He pushes himself especially deep inside me and remains there for a few seconds, moaning and relishing his own climax.

He collapses over me, careful not to put too much pressure on my sore skin and we remain like this, panting and slowly coming back to reality.

And then, much to my surprise, I start sobbing again.

Four

I am embarrassed at myself, but I cannot help it. The urge to cry is too strong for me to withhold and my attempt to do so only leads to me shaking and trembling beneath him. I need it.

He withdraws himself and quickly opens the knots on my wrists and ankles, slowly unfolding my body when he is done. I am still sobbing as he softly turns me around on my back and picks me up as if I weigh nothing to place my head on the soft pillows at the head of the bed. He pulls the blanket from underneath my body and covers me with it, completely wrapping my shaking body before he joins me, laying next to me and putting his arm around me.

He holds me in a firm grip, pulling me close to him and lets me sob for a while without saying a word. I calm down eventually. My breathing eases and I am finally able to relax my drained body, wrapped in his warm, comfortable embrace.

"Are you okay?" He whispers, gently pushing my chin up with his index finger so I am looking up at him.

I smile and nod. "Yes, Sir."

Another apology is on the tip of my tongue, but I remember just in time not to say it.

"I was worried there for a moment," he says. "I have never seen someone cry like this during their first time."

I smirk. "It's what I wanted, Sir."

"So, you enjoyed yourself."

"Yes, very much."

"Are you sure it was not too much? Your screams were music to my ears, but I wonder if you just couldn't remember the safe word."

"I could," I hastily replied. "I wanted it. Exactly like this. There was not a single moment in which I didn't know I could end it at any time and use the safe word to make you stop. I just didn't want you to."

"Good," he says, sounding relieved. "I had a great time and I am happy to hear that you did as well. It is all that matters."

I let out a deep and long sigh, enjoying the relaxation that is taking over my body. I am comfortable and warm, wrapped his arms and the softest bed sheets that have ever covered me. The skin on my back is still burning faintly, but by now it feels more like a warm hug than actual pain.

It is strange for me to feel this comfortable in the arms of someone I have just met. I have always had little problem to fuck people I didn't know well and was no stranger to the occasional one-night stand hook up. But I have never enjoyed cuddling, relaxing in someone else's arm afterwards. I have never had a relationship that lasted long enough for me to build up the trust and intimacy I thought I needed to feel comfortable in a man's innocent embrace. And here I am, completely relaxed, happy and wishing to be nowhere else but here, in his arm. It almost scares me.

He softly caresses the skin on my upper arm, slowly skimming down to my elbow and along my forearm until he reaches my hand. He clasps my hand and tenderly squeezes it.

"You have such delicate skin," he murmurs. "I almost felt sorry for assaulting you this bad. But there is just nothing more beautiful than marks on a beautiful girl's pale skin."

I smile. "Thank you, Sir."

"I should thank you for allowing me to play with such an exquisite body," he says.

I blush at his overuse of compliments. What on earth does he see in me? A man like him, gorgeous, sexy, toned and well endowed with all the money in the world. He could have anybody, buy anything and anyone, yet he wants me. For now, at least.

"You know I want to do more to you," he says after a while. "I have been looking for someone like you for quite a long time."

"Someone like me?"

"Yes, someone who wants this. A beautiful soul that needs me to sculpt her. Break her delicious body into a thousand pieces and reassemble her," he whispers. "I can feel your hunger. You want this more than might be good for you. Your desire is dangerous - it might lead you into the wrong hands. I want to protect you, give you what you need without shattering you."

His words make me tremble with lust and excitement, and I feel like he wrapped me in another warm blanket at the same time. God, he is perfect. He is everything I have been looking for. I cannot believe how I lucky I am.

"I would take care of you. With everything I have." He continues.

I look up at him, suddenly remembering the deal he has mentioned before. "Are you talking about paying me again?"

He smiles and subtly shakes his head. "No. I am not paying you."

"You know what I mean," I say.

"I do. I would love to put you in a place where you can live your life the way you want to. I hate for my sub to be restricted in their wishes when they don't have to be."

"They?" I frown, even though we have never talked about being exclusive and there was no reason to assume we would be.

My scowl makes him laugh. "You wouldn't be my first sub, little girl. But you would be my only one for as long as you are mine."

I cannot help but smile at this promise. "Okay, good."

"If you are up to it," he says. "You still have to say yes."

I hesitate for a moment. He is still holding my hand, now softly stroking my skin with his thumb.

"I don't know," I murmur. "I want to play more. I want to be your sub. I really do. I trust you and I would love to learn with you."

"Good," he sighs. "But...?"

"But I don't want you to pay for my studies." I clarify. "I would not feel comfortable with that."

He grunts and lets go of my hand. "You should know that this is a all or nothing thing for me. You either accept to be my sub and let me take care of you the way I see fit - or we're not seeing each other again. Ever."

My eyes widen in shock. I look at him, not trying to hide my indignation. "Are you serious?"

He nods. "Dead serious, baby girl."

"But why is this so important to you? Why do you insist on paying for an expensive Master's degree that - at least as far as my parents are concerned - might be a complete waste of time anyways?"

"Because I can," he says. "Because I want to. Because it makes me happy to see my sub thrive in doing what she wants to do. And I can tell you would be unhappy otherwise. Why would I want an unhappy sub?"

I don't know what to reply to that. I know paying for my schooling would be nothing for him, moneywise. He is as rich as one can be and supporting me would not hurt him one bit. But I just cannot convince myself to be okay with this.

"So to clarify," I say in a low voice. "I either get to play with you and have you pay for my degree or I won't see you at all?"

"That is right," he replies.

I sigh. "I can't decide that right now."

"You don't have to," he says. "But as long as you haven't decided there will be no more playing. You've had your test run. You have an idea what you would get yourself into."

"Do I?" I ask and smirk at him.

He mirrors my look. "Yes, baby girl."

I remove the blanket between us and get closer to him, skin on skin, subtly rubbing myself against his warm body. Somehow, his definitive demeanor has turned me on. I wanted more, even if it was just a little bit.

"Are you sure?" I ask. "I think I might need a little more to get a better taste..."

He smiles. "Your tears haven't even dried yet, baby girl. I am not going to do any more to you tonight."

I look up at him with pleading eyes and skim his perfect chest with the tips of my fingers, slowly running down to his pelvis.

He reaches for my hand and stops me. "I am serious. If you want more, say yes to my proposition."

"You are mean," I whisper.

"Maybe," he whispers, showing no pity on me. "But it's the way I do things, you'll have to get used to that if you are to become my sub."

"What if I have my own way of paying for school?" I ask.

"Do you?"

I gulp. "Well, not exactly, but maybe... There's a scholarship I applied for."

I don't have much hope in that regard, but after all, there is still a slight chance that this might happen.

"So you are trying to continue on your own?" He asks. "Have you already enrolled to a program?"

He got me there. "I do have a place."

"What major?" He wants to know.

"Public Policy."

"And what do you want to do with that degree when you're done?"

"Now you sound just like my parents," I mumble.

"No," he objects. "I am not scolding you, I really want to know. You seem like a person with a plan. There must be a reason, an idea behind your wish to obtain a Master's when most people are perfectly happy with a first degree."

"Well," I hesitantly reply. "There's a few options I could imagine for myself. But I think the most interesting would be to become a policy analyst and work for a think tank or NGO - or maybe even the government. I would like to advise politicians on making smart decisions for the public, but work behind the scenes."

He chuckles. "So, you don't want to become president?"

I frown at him. "No. I would like to do the actual work, not just representing."

He laughs and squeezes me tightly. "You're cute."

"Cute? Are you making fun of me?"

He shakes his head in defense. "God, no! I think those are wonderful and reasonable goals. And I would really like to help you achieve them."

I remain silent and look down on the bed sheets.

"You know you absolutely need a Master's degree to get there."

"I know that."

"Then why are you refusing this chance I am offering you?"

I look up at him with a determined expression. "Because I want to get there on my own. I might get the scholarship. And if not, I will work and save up money so I can afford it on my own at some point."

"But you already have the place," he argues. "You'd just waste time with working in meaningless jobs. I admire your determination - but I still think you're not acting wisely here."

I frown. I am starting to get mad at him. Maybe, because I know he is right. I could just accept his offer and be rewarded with both, a satisfying sex life and the possibility to obtain the degree that I need to get where I want to be in.

"Besides," he adds, smirking at me. "It's not like I wouldn't make you work for it. I will train you and it will become more challenging as time passes."

I smile. "I would hope so."

"Think about it, baby girl," he says. "For now, let's clean you up and get out of here."

I look at him in question.

"I'm sorry, I can't spend the night," he explains. "I will have Frank bring you home - but let's take a bath first."

Now, that sounds like a brilliant idea.