A Night In The Life

by Lewis Chappelle

(a short story of a single night in the life of a beautiful slave girl.)

I was wearing my “at home” outfit when my Master came up behind me. He scared me, because I didn’t hear him come through the door at all. He loves the particular outfit I was wearing because the cotton knit jersey bottoms are cut very short and my ass cheeks peak out the bottom edge which he finds ultra sexy. The top is of the same material, but it is cut off just under my tits so he can have his way with them with no difficulty at all. I was wearing 2 ½ inch gold colored, slip-on heels which gave me some height and flattered my toned legs and ass.

My dear Master had called me earlier in the afternoon and said he would be home late, but would bring home some Chinese food so I shouldn’t bother preparing anything else. He laid the little white cartons of food on the counter and slid his hands under my top. Fortunately, I had bathed and oiled my body so it was ripe and ready for him. He lifted both tits high and played  with them ever so gently, before he began to work on my nipples. He pulled and twisted them until I was just about crazy with desire.

It wasn’t long before Master loosened the cord that served to keep the jersey bottoms up around my hips. When he let the waist band go, they fell to my feet. I kicked them across the room realizing they weren’t of any further purpose that night. It looked like I was going to be his main course for the evening.

I turned around to him and took off his tie and coat. He lifted my head and kissed me on the lips as tenderly as he had ever done. He gave me the look that said I could return the kiss as long as I did it right. My right hand went behind his head to draw him to me and my left hand circled his waist. He grabbed my ass with one hand and let his fingers of the other probe my cunt.

My kiss to him was as passionate as ever there was a passionate kiss; my tongue searched every corner of his mouth and I could feel his cock stiffen.

But, he wasn’t ready for any cock play just yet. Our relationship had matured to such an extent that I knew that when Master only took one utensil to the table that I would be eating from his hand. I took my place beside his chair, on my spread knees with palms up-turned on my thighs, and waited for him to offer me food. That is the type of submission and humiliation I crave. Often, his left hand strayed to my right nipple while he shuffled food from the various cartons. No matter what he did to that poor nipple, I knew better than to move or utter a sound.

“Whose nipple am I playing with slave girl?” he asked suddenly shaking me from my reverie.

“Sir, both of these nipples are yours, Master. They are forever yours, Sir,” I said, averting my eyes from him.

“I want you to lift your tits high, slave, with both hands, so I can see how one nipple contrasts to the other after all of my torment.”

I lifted both tits as he had directed and he gave his usual inspection. Then he raised the fork with which he was eating, and, not so gently, poked it into the top of my tits and into my nipples. The pokes didn’t make me bleed or even hurt that much.  I didn’t let on that I was really quite aroused by that act and wished for more.

A light seemed to come on in his brain because before you know it, I was bent over his knees. The jersey top flew off my shoulders and landed on the floor.

“I just want to ‘pink you up’ slave, it’s been awhile since I laid into your tender ass with my hands, hasn’t it, slave?”

“Yes, Master,” I responded, “In fact, I can’t recall the last time you really spanked me. And, I miss it, Sir.”

His smacks were tender yet firm, It wasn’t long before I was leaking cunt juice all over his business pants. I’m sure he knew it to because, his smacks became steadily harder. I lost count at about 150 and my breath was coming more labored, but I knew not to ask for mercy; that would have only created a cause for greater suffering. 

Apparently Master still had work to do. He pulled me to my feet and scolded me for soiling his pants. I would have to take them to the cleaners in the morning and explain to the clerk just what the stain was so they could apply the proper cleaning solution, or at least that’s the excuse he gave me.

He sent me to our room so I would have some time alone. He told me to lay down, spread eagle, and blind folded on our bed. Once in the position, he told me not to move a muscle no matter what happened. I was to think about my responsibilities as his slave; my required rituals and normal punishments. I wasn’t to touch myself for over an hour - that to be timed by our trusty wind-up timer. I never knew I could hear my heart pound and be aroused by that steady beat, but it worked that night.

I knew the hour was about up when I was hit on the left tit by what I imagined was a single tail whip. I wanted to scream and pull my arms over my tits. But, I knew Master was testing my willingness to suffer and to be stoic about it. I didn’t move. Master had arrived in the room without making a sound; he must have known that I would be startled when he hit me, but I heard the whistle of the single tail a split second before it landed and I quickly steeled myself for the pain. And, the pain did come.

The second strike hit me on the right inner thigh and I could tell that one would leave a welt. I didn’t move.

“I’m in a mean mood tonight, slave girl,” he said. “I want to beat you and fuck you until you scream. Will that be alright with you, slave girl?”

“Oh, Sir,” I said, “I am your slave girl, and if it pleases you to beat me and fuck me, then you should just go ahead and not worry about how I feel about it, Sir. I have no rights at all to say one way or the other. I’m your property, to do with me what you want.”

I couldn’t see Master since I still had the blindfold on, but I could hear the single tail whistle through the air. It hit me right across my core and nearly took my breath away. Surely, that one would leave a welt. As would the next whistling slash which landed close to the first. 

“On your knees, slave. I want you to suck my cock while I whip your ass,” Master said in a flat, unemotional, tone.

I arched my back to give him the best shot possible of my ass as I groped to get his cock in my mouth. He must have retrieved a long-handled, multi-tailed flogger because when he hit me again, it wasn’t the slashing, stinging, burning, feel of the single tail. It was more of a snappy, thud which came down on my ass dozens of times while I tried to concentrate on giving him great cock pleasure with my experienced mouth. I could tell I was having an effect on him because his beating seemed to tone down as his cock twitched and throbbed in my throat and mouth. But, he must have bent over a bit farther because the last two strokes of that flogger hit directly on my cunt from the rear. That made me jump. I couldn’t help it.

“On your knees. Ass high. Get in your homage position, slave girl. I’m going to ravage your sassy ass now,” he said, his voice unemotional and demanding.

Master didn’t have to tell me that. I knew his mind, and realized from the beginning it was going to be a three-hole night for me. I also knew he was going to tease me, torment me, and torture me for hours. He knew I would love and adore him even more for that, and I knew he wouldn’t even bother with me if he didn’t love me too.

He did take a minute to lube my ass hole but he penetrated me quickly right up to his balls. I’m sure he knew my ass hole is a pleasure center for me, unlike some girls. I do get off when my ass is fucked and this night was no different. The pressure he applied with each thrust was hard and rough and my sore, well beaten, ass responded to the pain. He didn’t seem to notice.

I hadn’t peed for hours and I was sure he wouldn’t give me permission to go without me begging for consent for even such a basic biological need. How embarrassing. With each thrust into my ass, my need to piss became even more urgent. What would happen if I oozed a drop, or more, right there on the bedroom carpet? I didn’t want to think about the consequences of that. I resolved to tough it out until he withdrew from me.

But, just then, Master told me to cup my tits and lower myself flat on the carpet with me still holding his cock in my ass. When I was flat out, he told me to spread my legs wide. That movement was only accomplished by sheer strength of will as I really had to pee. He rose above me and rammed his cock into my ass over and over again. It was delicious, if challenging, in the extreme.

I didn’t feel him cum even though he was as stiff as a steel rod. I knew he would make me clean that shaft with my mouth again before he would let me pee or even fuck me. It was all another test of my devotion to him, I suppose.

I think, that being able to anticipate my Master was at least part of the reason for my intense love and commitment to him.

As soon as he withdrew from me, I began to clean Master’s cock. When I finished, I dropped to my knees in my homage position, in front of him, so I could properly beg for a chance to pee.

“Master, this cum slut of a slave girl, begs for your permission to pee, Sir. I have a lot of pressure building in my bladder, Sir, as you might imagine, and I sincerely and humbly ask you to give me your consent, Sir, to relieve myself. Pleeeeees, Sir?”

“Slave, that was a good beg. So yes, you may relieve yourself. Take off your blindfold, and on all fours go down to the back yard and pee from a squat position,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, geez, why didn’t he just make me drink it. He sure knows my sensitive buttons, doesn’t he,” I thought to myself as I crawled out the bedroom door, down the stairs, and out the back door to the yard.

The temperature was  in the 40’s and my nipples, my sore nipples, got hard again in a New York second. But, I had to go, and I did go, and go, and go.  I was aroused again by my own willingness to submit to this wonderful man, my Master, in this very humbling way. I did it for him.

When I crawled back to the bedroom, with my head down, I saw his unclad legs and feet and made a bee line, on my knees, for them. I rested my cheek against his calf for a moment and then began to kiss his feet. He knew I was happy and I knew he was pleased which made it all worth while.

“Stand up, slave, l want to inspect your gorgeous body,” he said.

These were the words every slave enjoys hearing from a master who enjoys touching and smothering the body of his slave girl with his hands for his pleasure.

“Do you want to be on the top or the bottom when I fuck your cunt, slave?” he asked quite sincerely. “I want you to have as many cums as you can have, But, under no circumstance should you cum before your are permitted to, or to force me into a cum for which I’m not ready. Clear?”

Yes, it was clear to me. I chose the top position since it was to be my choice.

It was nearing midnight when he finally gave me permission to cum. My body was wracked with high, erotic, tension and an over-abundant amount of raging hormones. Each cum, in a series of cums, was long and OMG, thrilling.

Master had me lay next to him for the night with his cum oozing from my throbbing, pulsating, cunt. He grabbed hold of my sore left nipple as if it was a favorite toy from childhood. 

“Thank you, Master, thank you so much for controlling me tonight, for whipping me, and beating my ass, and for letting me have those wonderful cums tonight, Sir. But most importantly, Master, thank you for letting me be you submissive slave girl, Sir,” I said tenderly.

I meant every word. And, I know he heard me because his grip on my nipple didn’t loosen one bit.

I’m in love with this man… this wonderful, adorable, loveable and considerate Master of a man.

The End

Note #1:  The author appreciates comments received from my readers, at   biggreek100@aol.com , especially those from submissive women who enjoy my work.

Note #2: The author claims copyright protection for the work published above, and any derivative work, under the provisions of the Berne Convention as signed by the USA in 1989.  LC