The Accidental Master Ch. 03

Susan bucked and screamed, trying to get away from the red-hot burn of the improvised cane. I struck her with it twice more and felt compelled to step close and ask, "How are you?"

"Please," she gasped, twisting in her bonds. "Ohh... please, Sir... please... oh God, don't stop... hurt me so good..."

I resumed the caning, varying the impact from barely touching to just short of breaking the skin. My slut whipped her head back and forth, her hips thrusting back to meet the bamboo, urging me to beat her. She was something I had never seen before, a woman caught in an orgasmic loop, cumming only to find a new pleasure peak rising beyond this one. This went on for maybe fifteen minutes before I decided it was time.

Dropping the bamboo, I pulled the small tags of curtain rope that undid the quick-release knot on the bedposts, first on the left and then on the right. As Susan started to collapse to the floor, I caught her and laid her on her back on the bed, her legs spread and her feet just touching the floor in her patent leather pumps, her thighs spread, her hair-free pussy wide open and inviting. I knelt between her legs, removed the clothespin from her clit, and settled in to tongue her to orgasm.

She responded instantly, her moans rising in intensity and volume as I used tongue, teeth, fingers and the stiff bristles of my mustache on her. Her hips rocked up to meet my tongue and questing fingers as she came again and again, the frequency between climaxes shortening. My face was sticky with her juices as I sought to drive her out of her mind. Her hands, still trailing the silk ropes that had held her to the bedposts, kneaded her breasts. Any sensory input was pleasurable to her now. I knelt there performing cunnilingus for half an hour, listening with satisfaction to her cries of hedonistic rapture when I realized the she was saying something.

"Take me... use me... fuck me..." over and over.

She protested as I pulled my fingers out of her, trying to hold them in her vagina. I stood, grabbed her thighs and pushed them even wider. With one stroke I rammed my swollen, ready cock deep into her.

Our coupling could not be called lovemaking. It had been too long since I'd had a woman and this one wordlessly urged me to prove my dominance over her in bed. Both of us were too aroused, no longer human but the embodiment of lingam and yoni.

I hammered her brutally with no concern for her pleasure, only my own. She met each thrust with eager lust, taking me in up to the root, bucking and twisting like a horse with a burr under the saddle. She started to reach for me. I caught her wrists and pinned them to the bed, leaning forward to hold them down, reinforcing her helplessness and inability to resist my taking her like this. The incoherent noises she was making goaded me to drive ever harder, reducing her to a receptacle for my sperm and nothing more.

As I neared my own climax, I watched her face, a portrait in pleasure beyond pleasure. I knew it would be only moments before I came. Reaching down with my teeth, I unclipped first one, then the other of those pink nipples, darkly swollen now from constricted blood flow, and spat the clothespins aside.

I groaned, "Cum now! Now, slut!"

With a roar, I climaxed as never before, Susan's hypersonic shriek telling me we'd reached the magic moment together. Her spasms almost threw me off as I latched onto a nipple and sucked for all I was worth as my cum splattered the inside of her vagina. In that moment, I felt I was a god as I collapsed onto her and almost passed out from the greatest climax of my life. Her pussy muscles clenched and loosened spasmodically, obviously out of her control, still responding to my cock inside her. As my penis gradually went flaccid and slipped out of her, I picked myself up and looked at my submissive.

She lay on my bed, her body built for sex slack, sweat-slicked and pale. I removed the blindfold. Her eyes were rolled back in her head and her mouth hung open. I had to press my ear to her chest and hear the reassuring "lub-dub, lub-dub" of her heart to assure myself that she had only fainted dead away, that I hadn't actually fucked her to death.

Somehow I managed to stand on rubbery legs. Moving to the side of the bed I gently tipped her up onto her side to check her back. Two small breaks in the whip slashes seeped tiny droplets of blood. Stumbling to the bathroom, I took a minute to hastily clean myself and returned with bandaids and ointment. It took only a minute to repair the reopened cuts. I looked at her with immense tenderness and pride, realizing that now I owned her, and she wanted it that way.

I carefully moved her until her head was on a pillow at the head of the bed. I closed the bed-curtains, shutting out the world so it could not reach in and disturb our privacy. I pulled a silk satin coverlet over us and settled next to this wonderful, sensuous, desirable submissive who had chosen me as her Dominant and drifted off to nap in the dark pool that was our world in this bed.

A tickling feeling brought me back to the surface. I opened my eyes. Susan had turned on the reading lamp on the headboard, its low illumination giving just enough light to see her. Her head was resting on my chest listening to my heart as a short while before I had listened to hers. I could feel her arm wrapping around my shoulder, while her other hand caressed me with her nails. She looked satisfied, happy and content, serene with the proof I had indeed taken her as my own.

"Oh Sir, thank you," she said. "I did not know anything could feel as good as that without drugs or booze. I do not know where I have been, but I beg you to take me there again some day."

"Thank you for the most intense experience I have ever known, my sweet," I replied, taking her in my arms and kissing her hair. "No woman has honored me by climaxing under me before. You, my darling pet, are the first."

Susan sat partly up and I looked into those blue eyes of hers, unafraid now of falling into them, as she realized I meant it. Hookers rarely cum with their johns; and my unlamented ex-fiancée had been not only unskilled at sex but frigid to boot. Susan wriggled up so her head lay beside mine on the pillows, within easy kissing reach if I wanted her and at intimate closeness for conversation.

"Where are we?" she asked. "Did you transport us somewhere while I was away? Some otherwhen where there are only the two of us, Sir?"

I chuckled. "No, I just closed the bed-curtains. But no one can disturb us until I will it so."

She sighed and snuggled close to me as I began to caress her, using just as light a feather-touch as she had. I was sure she could feel my cock erecting against her, for her complaisance and sensuality acted on me like a dose of cantharides on a prize bull. I wasn't ready to take her again just yet. I wanted to talk to her a bit and enjoy the feelings as I indulged in foreplay with her. Her own hands with those nails she had painted bright red for me gently ran along my spine and buttocks.

"Ask me any other questions you may have, my beauty. I may choose not to answer, but tonight you may ask me anything."

She smiled and ran a finger along my ear, tracing its outline before reaching down to find my hand and bring it to her proud breast. It seemed my little slut was tactile and enjoyed foreplay as much as I did, and wanted to make amends for all the women that had failed to see me as a man.

"I saw two things in the house that puzzle me," she said. "There is a shield over the fireplace in your study that has a broken bridge on it. And near your desk is a plaque with a white shield and a red cross on it. Might you tell me the story behind them, Sir?"

I smiled. "The carved white shield with the wiggly blue vertical stripe and the broken black bridge – fracted, the term is – is my family's coat of arms. Great-great-grandfather brought it with him when he emigrated from Sweden. The family legend is that an ancestor captained one of the ships in the 996 Viking raid on London. He supposedly was the bright boy who came up with the idea of arriving at London Bridge at high tide and pulling London Bridge down. He became known as Wulf Bridgebreaker and was given lands and the rank of baron for his services." Susan's nipple suddenly went hard under my fingers.

"Do you mean that you are a Baron, Sir?"

I looked at her. Her eyes were bright, her lips were fuller that usual and her breathing was deepening.

"The Swedish line is extinct. My father got a letter years ago from a Swedish diplomat telling him he was the heir to the title. He's gone now, and I have no brothers or sisters. I suppose that means I could claim it, but I believe I'd have to renounce my American citizenship. It's not worth it."

Susan pressed my hand firmly to her breast and looked pleased. "That makes me your thrall, then, My Lord."

She pushed me onto my back and began to kiss her way down my body, murmuring, "My Lord, please let me fellate thee. Please let me feel thy cock in my mouth."

I nodded my consent and I sat up, the better to watch her. Susan reached my cock and began licking the head, her hand softly squeezing the shaft. She looked surprised and pleased as she gently stretched the foreskin, discovering I was not circumcised. She opened her mouth and took the head between her lips, licking the frenum as she stroked the shaft slowly, tightening and loosening her fingers as they moved. I knew from what she had written that she enjoyed giving and receiving oral sex. The moans deep in her throat told me she was excited by what she was doing.

Susan took me all the way into her mouth and began to bob the full length of my shaft, sucking and flicking with her tongue. I closed my eyes and gave in to the sensations, feeling my prick swell. I could feel my climax building. So could she. She sucked harder, eager to receive my sperm.

As I felt myself losing the ability to restrain my climax, I reached down to grab her hair, intending to cum straight down her throat. She caught my hands and held them away, doing something with her teeth and tongue that kicked me over the edge. She held me off, my cockhead just behind her teeth as I spurted into her waiting mouth. She held that position until the spasms subsided. Shifting one hand to my penis, Susan held up her head so I could clearly see the satisfied expression on her face, and swallowed, smiling as she ran her tongue over her lips in satisfaction before bending her head to clean my cock.

When she was finished, she slid back up along me and purred, "Your cum is sweet, My Lord. Your little slut would drink it by the bottle if she could. Are you pleased with me, Sir?"

"No," I said shortly. "The piano does not write the concerto. You displease me, slut. On your hands and knees, now!"

She immediately assumed the position of a penitent: hands and forearms flat on the bed, head down between them, her rump elevated, legs together and bent at the knees, toes pointed. I rummaged beneath the coverlet and came up with one of the clothespins I had used earlier.

"Lift your head," I ordered. Her head snapped up.

"You see this?" I asked, brandishing it in her face.

"Yes, My Lord," she whispered.

"Kiss it," I ordered, "and thank me for the lesson I am about to teach you."

She kissed the wood and mumbled in a fearful voice, "Thank you, My Lord, for this lesson in obedience. Please punish me."

I said nothing more, but with no warning fastened it onto her clitoral shaft. I ignored her whimper as the jaws closed.

"Head down and watch it," I ordered. That lovely blonde head dropped.

I got behind her, took aim, and began to spank her, setting a pace of about one blow per second, hearing the sharp reports as my hand struck her already sore ass, not alternating cheeks but striking at random. I paid no heed to her tears or her cries.

After 50 strokes I slid my free hand under her and caressed her mound. As I had anticipated, it came back wet with her secretions.

My cock had regained its ramrod rigidity. The combination of her submission and the knowledge that she was getting off on what I was doing to her acted like a drug on me. I rubbed her juices over my cock, going back again for more to anoint the head. When I was ready, I forced my cock into her anus.

She screamed, a mixture of lust and humiliation as I took her. I knew from her report that she did not object to anal sex. She began to press back against me, whimpering from the pleasure she was receiving and the heat in her buttocks as I grasped her hips and used her.

The whimpers turned to moans, then to deep groans of pleasure, then to the cries of climax as I fucked her ass. The squeals Susan made triggered me as well, and I came just after her, barely managing to hold off long enough to unclip the clothespin. She cried again, surprised by a second small climax as the blood flowed more fully into her clit and I rubbed it roughly.

After I was through, I withdrew from her. It took more control than I thought I had to grab a handful of that silky hair and tip her face up.

"Do you think you will remember your lesson?"

"Yes, My Lord."

I dropped her head and slipped outside the curtains to the bathroom for a fast wash. On my return, I saw with approval that she had not moved. I motioned for her to come to me and held her close, using my fingers to gently feather-touch her glowing buttocks and take the pain away. She looked at me, saw I was not angry with her any longer, sighed and snuggled contentedly onto my chest. She felt very good resting there.

After a little time had passed, Susan ventured to ask, "My Lord, the plaque with the red cross on the white shield? The plate said, 'To Sir Galahad, with admiration from his classmates.' May your submissive ask what is behind that?"

"You do want to know me, don't you, wench?" I smiled wryly. "A souvenir of my days at beautiful Bedlam-By-the-Bay. 'Sir Galahad' was my nickname.

"I got it on a vacation after I was stranded on an offshore island for three days with four of my classmates' girlfriends. They went to the mainland to get more beer and couldn't return because a storm blew up. It was three days before they could get back. They simply didn't believe it when their girls told them that I hadn't so much as tried to kiss them – that I had been a perfect gentleman, even when one of them climbed into my bed because she claimed to be terrified by the lightning."

"What really happened, My Lord? Did they cut cards for the privilege of bedding you, or did they just get drunk and egg each other on? Surely you would not have refused a lady in distress," Susan teased. She yelped as I gave her nearest nipple a sharp pinch and a stern look.

"Not that it's any concern of yours, but there were three factors.

"First, they were involved with my buddies, and it would have been against the Code. Second, the sort of man who'd bed a girl that's drunk and not in control of herself is despicable. And third, I was a virgin. It wasn't my idea of a great first experience. The bimbos would've gossiped about copping my cherry, and I did not need any crap from my classmates on that issue.

"So I politely declined the offer of her services, and when she didn't want to leave I pulled her over my knees, called her an impudent bitch and spanked her ass red before I tossed her back into her bedroom and locked the door on her. After that, all four of them treated me with respect and we pulled together to get through a difficult situation. As a matter of fact, the one I spanked was the first to call me Sir Galahad. She meant it sarcastically, but after awhile all of them were calling me that.

"When the boyfriends got back, the girls continued to call me Sir Galahad, and it stuck. There were a couple of other things, but that holiday on the island was the big one."

"Was it a lonely life, My Lord?" she asked, rotating her hips gently against mine. Susan certainly knew what would please her lord. I began caressing her as I replied.

"Yes. I think I was the only cadet in my class who didn't have a girlfriend or couldn't pick up girls. Even when my buddies would try to fix me up, it never clicked."

I slid my hand up and pulled her head down, french-kissing her, effectively ending the conversation. She broke the kiss and rolled onto her back, her legs spread, her arms reaching out to me, ignoring the pain her whip wounds had to be causing her.

"Don't think about it any more, My Lord," she said softly. "I am yours. Do to me what you wanted to do to those girls then.

"Fuck my mouth. Fuck my cunt. Fuck my ass. Rape me. Use me as a sex toy, Sir, any way you wish. Please take me, My Lord. Please."

I was strangling. I allowed my submissive to draw me down. For the rest of the night I used her for my pleasure, purging myself of resentments I hadn't realized ran so deep.

We fucked in every position we could fit ourselves into. She drew off psychic poisons that had accumulated over the years, wanting only to please me by any means, taking pride in my use of her.

I spanked her ass with my hands and her inner thighs with the bamboo, tying her to a convenient bedpost, ignoring her pleading and begging, paying more attention to the juices that soaked the bed and her thighs before taking her yet again than to any protests of hers. I pumped myself dry, but my erection was still rigid and good to screw her into climax after climax. What a glorious sex machine my submissive turned out to be!

When the sun rose, Susan was tight against me, holding my cock in her aching cunt, accepting the pain as the price for keeping her lord and future master inside her as we drifted off to sleep. I marveled at my incredible good fortune in finding this woman.

Somehow divining what was in my mind, she murmured sleepily, "Thank you for this night, Sir. I am your slave. I want no other master. I am yours, my love, My Lord, forever..."