The musk of his scent blended with the near salty taste of his pre-ejaculate. His voice, now hard with arousal and darkly mysterious with its entrancing brogue, was better than the finest music. She couldn't seem to get enough of the taste and the texture of his cock, even as she left it to lick his testicles. He liked that a lot, even put her to work sucking one, which she was more than happy to do. His cock swelled in her hand, his testicles rising toward his abdomen. She moaned her hunger, her arousal dampening her panties in the face of his impending climax.
* * * *
Seth let Abby explore, giving her guidance and praise and focusing her attentions on his pleasure. Responsive as she was, Abby corrected herself at each directive he gave, feeding on his commands with an appetite that turned his cock into a rod of steel. She used those pouty lips to tease the skin at its base, along the skin to the joint of his hip, and back down the inside of his thighs. Sensation hardened his balls.
Fuck.
She didn't waste much time before returning to the object of her interest, though, and soon enough she'd bathed his cock with her mouth and swallowed his pre-cum with spine-shuddering jolts of pleasure.
"Good girl," he murmured.
His orgasm would come at his choice and at his time, not hers.
He made a fist in the hair behind her ear and pulled her away from his cock and balls. His knuckles rested against her jaw while held her between his knees; her mouth open like a hungry animal. She squirmed and whimpered, trying with tongue and lips to bridge the distance, but only her breath could reach his cock. He stroked himself and observed her.
She pulled hard against his hand, demanding to be released. His only response was to move his hand to her throat. She shifted in his grip, baring her neck to his controlling hand, and whispering a plea for "more," like the luscious chunk of fuck-meat she was.
He stroked his cock while watching her fight for his dick, enjoying the feel of his hand along his shaft and the view of the heated slut between his knees. Collared by his hand and flushed with a slave's heat, her mouth open and begging to be filled by his shaft, she was every BDSM dominant's masturbatory dream. He shifted his hand on her neck, moving his grip upward, collaring her high and hard beneath her chin. That open mouth...fuck, yeah, he'd fill it, but not today.
He thumbed his foreskin across his cocktip, rubbing them against each other, the sensual pleasure stealing his mind. His spine locked and his balls flashed hot. His eyes closed as the orgasm rocked his world.
Spurts of his cum splashed her face. He held her between his knees until it dried across her cheeks. She stared at him with widened eyes, a submissive glaze clouding the pretty blue orbs.
"Well done, li'l one."
With that, he rose to his feet and stretched, all six-foot-two-inches of muscle and bone. Tugging up his jeans, he fastened the buttons and instructed her to kneel. The slave, her face still covered with his jizz, moved into the position he'd taught her earlier. She brushed her hand across her cheek, but the dried spatters remained. He smirked.
"What have you learned today?"
The question was ritual, but also critical. He needed to know where she was mentally.
"That you're a terrible shot with your load," she said.
Wrong answer.
The front door closed behind him with a firm click.
Seth churned within Abby, a raging storm of carnal possession. She pushed back against the door, curving her spine to force him deeper into her body. She squeezed his cock with a fist-like clench, one that caused sparks of lights to dance across his vision. Her palms slid against the door in accompaniment to his vigorous thrusts. Her voice came in soft grunts. The sound of hunger, the wet slap of flesh against flesh, the rattle of the closet door and the sound of her juicy cunt caressing his cock were a song better than the finest aria.
She was wet, tight, and welcoming, and he leaned close to speak into her ear.
"Fuck that cumstick, you whore. That's what you are. You're a fucking whore. You're desperate for this cock, aren't you, slut?"
It wasn't often that he broke his own rules, but when he did, it was usually world changing, for good or for bad. Fucking her that first evening had been a sudden and inexplicable decision, but he wasn't in the least bit sorry for doing it.
Hell, no.
She responded to control like a dream. Her pussy was so tight around his cock that it nearly caused his eyes to bulge from their sockets. God, it was good. Her cunt flooded with molten honey each time he chastised her. She liked light verbal humiliation.
That was okay, because he liked it, too.
* * * *
His words, dear God, his words...every low rasp caught at her insides, twisting them hotly and pulling a whimper from her throat. Rude, abusive, and yet so inexplicably hot.
"Listen to you. You're a fucking animal. Just a dirty slut. A fuck-slut, that's what you are. You're a bitch in heat, hot for cock."
And she wanted more.
He was hot, so hot his skin seemed to burn hers, turning the sweat across her shoulders and back to steam--at least it felt that way. He stood like an oak, one hand on the door beside her head as he powered into her, fucking her hard and snarling words that turned her into a mass of white-hot need.
She clenched around him, desperate for the shuddering pleasure of orgasm, but again and again, he held back, deliberately interrupting his tempo to thwart her climb to climax. She might burst into flames at any second.
"Oh, God, please, Seth--
please!
"
He jerked to a stop and grabbed her hair, using it to tug her head backward, baring her throat. Anger twisted his tone. "What the fuck did you call me?"
Her neck protested his hard hold; her body sang. There was no thought of protest. "
Master!
I'm sorry, Master. Please. Oh, God, please..."
"Please what, you slut?"
"Please, let me come. Please...please..."
He refused, laying heavy and still inside her. He chuckled, a dark sound that caused her cunt to clench and her soul to shudder.
"Why should I?"
"Please, for God's sake..."
"Why should I?" he repeated the question.
Desperate, Abby pushed away from the door, rocking her body into his. He avoided her thrust with a twist of his hips and laughed. She wasn't too proud to beg. "Master, I hunger. I need to come. Please."
"Because you're a fuck-slut?"
She couldn't hold still, twisting in his grip and humping his cock, desperate for the orgasm that hovered just beyond her reach. "Almost there." She moaned. "Please, Master, fuck this slut."
Seth slammed into her, his body going rock hard and shoving her against the door. It trembled and shook beneath her hands. He came with a snarl and set his teeth into the hollow between her neck and shoulder. She gasped as pain mixed with pleasure, a potent cocktail that tore her mind from her core.
Her body locked, the pleasure burning through her as her orgasm exploded and splintered her essence. She screamed, the door in her face muffling the sound as she shivered and shook beneath his power and possession.
Oh, God...yes!
His breath hard in her ear, Seth pulled from her body. Devoid of his support, she collapsed to her knees, her hands sliding down the closet door leaving sweaty streaks on the dark wood. She could barely catch her breath. Her legs shook. Her mind flinched from her recent behavior, her desperate sexual abandonment. She could hear the sound of fabric rustling and the unmistakable sound of a zipper.
"Orgasm is a privilege for slaves," he said. "You will thank me now."
Dazed, Abby struggled to speak, finally managing the required statement. "Thank you, Master."
He tossed the used condom onto her lap. "Clean up. Undress. Meet me in your bedroom."
She managed another shaky, "Yes, Master."
Giving her a nod, Seth bent to retrieve his rucksack and headed off down the hallway in the direction of her bedroom. Those tight ass cheeks encased in denim were mouthwatering. They way they bunched with each step--
"Move, girl!" he barked.
Abby scrambled to her feet and ran into the guest bathroom to dispose of the condom in the bathroom trash. Cranking on the water, she let it warm while shrugging off her crimson dressing robe. After lathering up a washcloth, she took a quick sponge bath, swiping the gardenia-scented lather beneath her arms and between her legs, removing all traces of fluid and sweat. She ran it down her body, pinking her skin with the water's heat and, lastly, scrubbed her face before turning off the water.
The girl in the mirror caught her attention. It was she and yet it wasn't. The reflection revealed dilated pupils, bee-stung lips, fuck-rumbled hair and pink-kissed skin. She looked like a porn star or, at the very least, a well-fucked and fully satisfied woman. And she was pretty.
"Wow," Abby whispered.
"Girl," Seth called from down the hall, "get in here."
She ran to the master, a shameless fuck-slut eager for whatever more he had to offer--until she caught a glimpse of her bed and came to a sharp stop. He'd stripped it of linens, tossing them into a pile onto the floor between the bed and windows. Cuffs hung from the headboard and some sort of leather harness had been attached to the mattress. She peered closer, realizing a wide strap lay between the mattress and the box springs. "Uh-oh."
She looked at Seth, standing there with feet braced and arms crossed over his brawny chest, and swallowed hard.
"Get on your back," he ordered, "with your hands up for binding."
A slave's job was to be obedient in all things, or so Seth had told her. She chanted that to herself as she inched toward the bed and the frightening, alien apparatus. Every step closer seemed to magnify the size and threat of the leather contraption. She reclined as directed and raised her hands to the cuffs.
Seth moved close and began strapping her in. She watched every movement, memorized every buckle, shivered at the kiss of hard leather against her skin.
He adjusted her position on the bed, pulling her hands farther up over her head and attaching the cuffs to the bed frame with silver carabineers. A third one spanned the distance between the leather straps, linking her hands close together. She watched him snap them together, locking her in place.
"I'll need an escape loop, something to pull on when I need to get free." The wobble in her voice leached all authority from her words.
"The time of your release is for me to decide, hence the lock."
"What I mean is that I might need to get myself free and therefore need an escape loop." She barreled on in the face of his amused snort. "In the event I have a seizure or something."
Seth leveled a gaze at her. "Suffer from seizures often?"
"No, but what if I have one all of a sudden?"
He straightened and stepped away from her, arms akimbo. "Three carabineers connect the cuffs. The one in the middle is locked until I release it. Should you seize, I'll unclip them from the cuffs and set you free. Furthermore, if you're in the middle of a seizure, you won't be working any of the carabineers."
So saying, he moved to her feet and gave a sharp tug, causing her arms to straighten with a grumpy protest of one elbow. He frowned at the sound. "Are you damaged?"
"No. It was just my elbow that popped."
"Does that happen often?"
"Yes," she admitted.
"I see."
Seth took up the towel at the foot of the bed and shook it out with a snap. He then tucked it beneath her rump. Abby eyed it, remembering the cost of the set. "Maybe we should use kitchen towels? That sea-foam green was hard to find."
Ignoring the comment, Seth set to work applying the bindings to each of her thighs and ankles. When it was finished, she felt...strangely excited. He'd laid her out on the bed like some captive readied as a gift to a barbarian king. Correction, she told herself, readied as a gift to a Scottish laird.
Seth lifted one leg, bending her knee so her heel rested against her buttock. He did that with each leg before hooking the ankle cuffs to the thigh bands with small straps. Satisfied, he paused, running his eyes over her. A dark gleam shimmered in his eyes. A muscle jumped in his jaw. His hands encircled her thighs, his thumbs caressing the sensitive skin at the juncture of thigh and vulva.
She was bound, gloriously bound; a treat laid out for Seth's consumption. He found her beautiful, stimulating, and gorgeous!
"You'll want to find someone else to wax your pussy. Your skin is red and irritated."
Abby jerked her knees closed, knocking Seth on the face. He recoiled with a curse.
"Oh! I'm so sorry."
"No doubt," Seth replied, a bite to his tone, before leaning over the side of the bed toward where he'd rested his rucksack. He rifled through the contents. Abby craned her neck, curious, but saw nothing other than the back of Seth's head and his brawny shoulders.
"I really am sorry," she said.
"My fault," he replied, still occupied with the search of his bag. "I spoke before I had you fully secured."
She'd been cuffed, hitched, and hobbled. That wasn't enough?
Seth straightened with a bar in his hand, and before she knew what he was about, he'd parted her knees and wedged the bar between. Two quick clips of steel against steel followed and the bar rested between her knees, spreading her legs widely.
"Oh!"
"Relax against the bar, li'l one. Let it hold you open."
Seth ran his hands along the outside of her thighs. As she watched, the blue of his eyes darkened and a flush colored his cheeks. There was no doubt of his arousal. Whatever discomfort she felt vanished in a flash.
Smiling, she pursed her lips and fluttered her lashes. "Like what you see?"
"Aye." With that, he returned to rummaging in his bag. He found a tube of lube, a pair of latex gloves, and a small, blue plastic envelope. "This training exercise will be to determine your capacity for anal play."
The information landed into her awareness like the
Titanic
meeting the iceberg. Bad, all bad. "I can answer that for you: in no capacity. Zero. Zilch. Nada."