Master — Eden Lenz

His written instructions were simple: “Wait for me in the center of the room. No clothing. No jewelry. No shoes. We’ll begin when I arrive.”

The room is draped in white sheets and lit by white candles placed on the floor around a red silk pillow. Near the door, there is a table, sheathed in white gauze. I stand in this sparseness and wait.

He enters the room and I tremble. Not from cold or fear but from nervous energy. He places a small box, wrapped in red silk, on the table and asks if I have been waiting long.

“No,” I say.

His shoes sound against the floor as he circles me, inspecting only with his eyes. I do the same to him. In the whiteness of the room, he is darkness. His hair, his eyes, his clothing, his intensity. He says, “I think we’ll have some fun today. Raise your arms.”

I obey.

He steps toward me and seizes my breasts. “You will respond that quickly and that obediently to my every wish.” His fingers sink into my skin, kneading my flesh as he speaks. “All I want from you is complete and total submission.”

“What should I call you?”

He smiles and, tugging my nipples, pulls me closer. “I prefer ‘Sir,’ ‘Master,’ the usual.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You don’t have a name,” he says. “I will call you whatever comes into my mind. Sometimes you will be my pet, sometimes my whore.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Let’s begin.” His hands drift down to my hips and I lift my face toward his. On tiptoe, I strain to allow him to reach behind. His kiss is tentative but his hands are very assured. Tiny moans pass between our mouths as he clutches my ass. He lifts me, pushing my bare body against his clothed one. Beneath his loose pants, his cock presses against me.

Zayd’s hands become more savage, spreading and exposing me. His lips are on my ear; my arms are around his shoulders. “Tonight, you will understand what it means to truly belong to someone else.” The words carry as much damp heat as his breath. “Whatever I want from you, you’ll give. You’ll offer more.” He nips my earlobe.

Lowering my heels, I open my eyes to find him watching me.

“I have something for this ass,” he says taking my chin in his hand, “and something for that look in your eyes.”

We exchange a smile and he walks behind me to the silk-encased box. I hear the thunk of plastic against the table, the jingle of a small chain, the deeper music of a larger chain, perhaps a collar and several smaller items beating against the sides of the box as he makes his selections.

“Grab your ankles, slut.”

I spread my legs and bend forward. Glinting silver dangles from his hand as he walks toward me, carrying a small bottle. I close my eyes and squeeze my ankles.

The bottle squirts cold lubricant against my asshole.  I allow myself a slight moan, telling myself it’s for him. His clothing swishes as he stands again. He rubs my asshole with the object, swirling it through the lube and my juices. It presses against me, opening me. The echo of his voice calling me “slut” continues to excite me. Another moan as it continues to fill me, stretch me and reaffirm the word.

It stops. His palm secures against its base and his fingers brush my cunt.

“Does it feel good?”

I nod. My breathing grows heavier.

He begins a rhythmic pressing with his hand. I find myself pushing back. My clit begins to stir in her familiar way. “Wait until it’s my cock inside you.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Stand up.”

I’m a bit light headed as I right myself. He steadies me for a moment then steps in front of me.

“Standing there with a dildo up your ass. Dripping wet. Desperate to get fucked. You are a slut, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Say it then.”

“I’m a slut. I’m your slut.”

“Yes.” He pinches my left nipple, twisting it, tugging it, rubbing it with his thumb. “Offering more. I like that.”

My eyes are caught by a glint of silver in his palm. Clover clamps. He pulls my nipple, wiggles the clamp into place behind it and begins to release it. I whimper and bite my lower lip. “Don’t let go,” I say.

The clamp tightens. The pain is solid, sharp, heightening.

“Say your word if you want me to stop.”

I don’t want him to stop. I want the thrill of my please being dismissed. “No,” I reply.

“Almost there.” He releases my nipple and a breath later, the clamp. Its weight adds an extra twinge to the pain. The second clamp dangles from the chain. “You do the other side,” he says, placing my hand on my right breast.

My nipple seems to quiver as I pinch it. I open the clamp with my left hand and work it over the pink flesh. I begin to release the clamp, inflicting the pain on myself while he watches. The white pads bite into my flesh. The pain has evened, but has not subsided for a moment. My shoulders naturally fall back. I lift my chin at Zayd.

“Excellent,” he says. He leans over and cups my breast, lifting the tormented nipple to his mouth. His tongue is hard and flat. Pain shoots from my tit to my cunt in an orgasmic wave. I hold back. I know he’s not ready for me to come. Standing straight, he teases the other nipple with his thumb and stares into my eyes. We exchange an amused smile. “Having fun?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He wraps his hands around my shoulders and pulls me against him. His tongue searches for mine. His shirt is unbearably rough against my clamped nipples but the pain continues to travel in waves to my clit. I shift and feel the plug inside me. I pull away to plead with him to fuck me but his hands push me until I kneel on the floor before him.

“Get that pillow,” he says, unzipping his pants.

I obey, settling on it like a cat on a cushion.

He brushes his cock against my lips, smooth and hot and hard. I wrap my hand around the shaft and feel metal against my smallest finger. I flash him a slight smile and stroke him, admiring the strength of his cock. “Go ahead,” he says, brushing my hair from my face.

I lap at the head of his dick, teasing him with tiny strokes of my tongue. I cover his flesh in delicate kisses and begin to work my hand up and down his length. The cock ring constricts his dick and his balls. I force my tongue against the underside of his cock and imagine him forcing himself down my throat. I imagine his gasp. My moan. What he would say to me. What he would do.

I massage his balls with one hand and hum with pleasure. He betrays himself with a slight gasp.

Gathering  the chain in one hand, he places the other against the back of my head. He steadily pushes himself into my mouth while jerking the chain, tightening both clamps, reminding me my breasts are bound not only to each other, but also to him. Every tug renews the bite. I squeeze the base of his dick while I suck the shaft. He’s beyond teasing. His breath comes quick and heavy as he releases me.

He walks behind me and kneels. “I think these have served their purpose.” Delicately, he releases the clamps one at a time.

I gasp, leaning forward. He pulls me back toward him by flattening his hands against my ribs, just under my breasts. I put my head against his shoulder and let myself feel the fresh pain. His hands feel warmer than ever. Firm. Comforting. He says nothing. Doesn’t move. Only waits for me to recover. When I do, I nod to him. I want him to be proud of me.

“All fours,” he breathes into my ear.

This is it, I tell myself. He’s going to take me. Do whatever he wants to me.

I cover my head with my arms and breathe against the silk. He slides the tool from my asshole. I imagine how it would feel if he chooses to fuck my ass. I cross my ankles and await his next command. I hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper and decide. I won’t have to imagine.

“Make your offer.”

His voice doesn’t hold the assuredness it had when the session began. He’s as anxious as I am. My cheek against the silk, I reach behind with both hands and part my rear for him.

“You know what I want.” I can hear a smile in his rhetorical question. “Offer me more.”

“You want my cunt,” I say, trying to make eye contact. “I’m offering you my ass.”

“No.”

“Sir–“

“Offer me more.” He changes position, standing over me and lowering himself to reach me.

With a breath, I say, “I’ve wanted this so long, all of this. You. Like this.”

The tip of his sheathed, lubricated cock presses against my asshole. I pull my cheeks apart. He pushes. I begin to yield to him.

“Offer, darling.” He presses further, eliciting another moan. I want to give him…

“Everything.” My eyes flutter closed with the power of my surrender.

“Are you mine?” He slides in further. “All of you?”

“Yes. I’m yours.”

“You’re my… what?” His voice goes down on the last word. His cock slithers deep into my ass.

I try to remember the words we’ve used. I struggle to be coherent. My clit pounds. My nipples ache. I press my knees together. “Your  heart… your mind…  your love… your life.”

He groans. His balls brush my cunt.

He fucks me slowly. Pulling out is more sensational than his plunging back in.

“I’ll give you everything. I want to be everything to you.”

“I can only take what you offer.”

His words massage my clit. I want to come. I need to come. For him. For myself. For us. I can only nod.

There are no words.

“I wanted you this way,” he said. “Because you’re mine.” He slaps my ass, then rubs my burning skin.

“I need to come,” I mumble.

“Do you?”

“Please?”

He bucks a few more times and says, “I want you to.”

My brain takes a few seconds to register and I reach between my thighs. The moment I make contact with the slipperiness of my clit, I begin to come. First in soft waves, then like a thunderclap of pleasure, climaxing to a long, low rumble. I know it’s more than he can bear.

Through it, I hear him say, “I want to come too.”

I ride out the final crest of my pleasure and wait for him to speak again.

He moans, drives deep inside me, “I need to come.” Through clenched teeth he adds, “Please?”

“Not yet,” I say, teasing him by pulling my hips away.

“Please,” he says, “oh please Mistress, let me come now.”

He’s been very good. Exactly what I wanted. I allow him his reward.

His cock expands and he comes, sighing and seizing my hips. I stay still. Allow him to take his final use of me in this role, my gift to him. He shudders and withdraws.

I roll onto my back and stretch. He collapses onto the pillow with me, his cock wilting within its latex sheath.

“Well? How was it being on the other side?” I say, curling a finger around his ear like a telephone dial. “How do you feel?”

“Jealous.” He pauses, kissing my forehead. “And madly in love.”

____________________

Eden Lenz has published erotica in Amoret, Mind Caviar, and Abby’s Realm among others. Her work also appeared in Best Women’s Erotica 2003. This is her first submission/publication of erotica in nearly eight years. She lives in Steeler country, which feeds her domme side, and is a Pirates fan, which is as masochistic as it gets.

Master -- Eden Lenz, 4.9 out of 5 based on 7 ratings