The Man at Langley Manor

Sarah blinked and refocused, her bra straps off her shoulders, standing in the entry in only spandex and a bra. The note, the empty mannequin, both matched together with such sudden clarity and sinful obviousness that she moaned softly. Her uniform was on the mannequin.

Her uniform was nothing.

Sarah quickly stripped down, her feet stomping her spandex firmly to the floor as she tossed her bra to the side with reckless abandon. She was completely nude in a stranger's house, at his bidding, for no other reason than that he had ordered her to.

She still went about her business, but did so cautiously, slightly unnerved, standing suddenly to look in doorways as if she expected her Master to be there, smirking, hard cock twitching as he watched her breasts bounce and ass tighten with her work. She mused on the idea that what he was having her do now was the same as what she had done to him that first day in June.

Suddenly one day, close to the end of July, her Master appeared. He walked through the house quietly, stalking like a panther even to do such mundane tasks as read the newspaper and pour himself cereal or make food for himself. Sarah knew she was not to interfere with him and his activities–such was one of her responsibilities as a servant, to be seen but never heard–but she found it difficult to avoid him. Even at home, dressed in sweatpants and tank tops, he was a sight manly enough to quicken her breath and weaken her knees. Once, Sarah had been cleaning the floor and her Master sat down at the table nearby with a book, and it had taken all of her willpower not to crawl to him and pull his pants down to see if, after months of fantasies and late-night practice, she could actually fit his cock in her throat. Instead she continued cleaning, turning away from him but pushing her ass towards him so that with every scrub against the floor, her ass would shake alluringly and teasingly at him.

Gradually, her Master began wearing fewer clothes, not saying a word of it and not expecting Sarah to speak. Day by day, she watched her Master undressing, each day passing by maddeningly slow, each night a fevered anticipation of the next lost article of clothing. Her whole body and mind had become bent to worshiping and serving this man, her Master, and pleasing him as much as she could. He had not needed to speak a single word, and yet she was completely under his command, her body at his mercy, her behavior changing according to his whim. She understood that she was his; owned by him, his sex toy, his artwork and personal porn star. She had never been more aroused in her life.

Finally the day came when Sarah walked through the door, stripping in seconds, and walked through the hallway to find her Master lounging nude in a chair, body glowing in the afternoon sun, eyes dark and smile just as cruelly teasing as always. The most arresting detail however was what her eyes were immediately drawn to–his rough, calloused hand was wrapped tightly around the thick shaft of his cock, stroking it slowly to keep it rock hard. Sarah moaned and her knees weakened.

Finally here he was, she had waited and worked for two months to see this again. The money was unimportant, the hours spent bent to her work meaningless compared to this, the veins pulsing in his foreskin gripped in his hand, the thick head glistening with precum, smooth, heavy balls bouncing with each long stroke, all while the rest of his body tensed and shifted, body lithe and directed towards one purpose–carnal, primal sex.

The scent itself was overwhelming, a heavy musk filling the air to fill her eyes with a lustful haze, her eyelids flickering as she fought to keep control of her own body.

After a moment, her Master released his cock, letting it fall with a thud onto his chair and stood, walking past Sarah as if he didn't see her. As he passed, she breathed a sigh of both disappointment and relief. She went on with her today, but her Master was sure to walk in on her in compromising positions, his cock bobbing and dangling inches from her face or tits or dripping pussy, teasing her without touching, driving her mad without a word.

In August, Sarah caught word from neighbors that Frederick Langley, her Master, was due to move out soon, as he had been only using the house for a summer home. Although it was night and she had already worked that day, Sarah walked up the drive and entered her Master's manor.

The entry was dark. Every light in the house was off, all except a warm light that spilled out from a door two floors up, a door that had always been locked during her work hours. Sarah wrapped her arms tightly around her bare chest, the house being slightly colder than usual, having already stripped completely bare by habit.

She wandered the house, checking in side rooms and out back, and nowhere in the house was a soul to be seen. She walked up the stairs, pale feet carrying her to the glowing door.

As she stepped inside, Sarah looked around and noticed that, compared to the rest of the house, this room was very plain and simple. Its ornate wooden door swung wide to reveal a blank white room with a single window and a large, pale, orderly bed. A jet-black desk crouched quietly in the corner, and a modern sculpture hung from the ceiling. Sarah walked farther into the room and glanced around to find a book on the pillow, one of sexual and pornographic tales and literary erotica. She was intrigued, but set it back down, and looked around at the room she was now convinced was her Master's bedroom.

Somewhere downstairs, a clock sounded eleven chimes. It was nearing midnight, but Sarah was determined to speak with her Master about his imminent departure. She stood for a few minutes, but tired and sat on his bed, an action that she knew was irreverent, but she paid no mind to it. She reached over and opened his book and read about a tribe of Amazon warriors conquered and dominated and made into sex slaves by the more powerful men of the North, wielding massive cocks and strength in fighting. Sarah was always damp in the Manor, but as she read the story, reading about man after man dominating women, showing them their rightful place, kneeling at their feet, covered in cock, her hands flew to her clit, and as the men covered the Amazons in their seed, Sarah brought herself to orgasm, moaning loudly, breath hitching and breaking as her body spasmed and twitched in pleasure.

Sarah set down the book on the other side of the bed and lay down, her vision blurred with pleasure, her body glowing. Without meaning to, Sarah fell asleep.

When she awoke, she thought she was dreaming about the story. Her senses returned as a pair of strong, calloused hands gripped her wrists and pinned them together over her head, another hand pulling her legs apart roughly, another set of iron-strong legs keeping them forced apart. Sarah struggled to focus in her post-sleep daze and found herself face to face with her Master.

Her gaze faltered and her mouth opened as she realized her position. She was utterly helpless, weak and powerless under his strong body, his commanding stare ordering her to stay still, his rough hands demanding she not resist. Sarah shifted out of reflex and felt her slippery pussy push against the hot, almost impossible thick head of her Masters cock.

Involuntarily, she bit her lip. For the first time since she had seen him, her Master spoke.

"I know how badly you want me and have wanted me since you saw me naked in the garden in early summer. I designed all of this to slowly convince you to submit to me, to accept your rightful place underneath me not only as a maid, but soon after as a pleasant sight, then as a private stripper, then a porn star, and now, most importantly of all–my fucktoy. My silly little redheaded slut, a whore for me to pin to my bed and fuck senseless, a sleeve for me to fit my cock into and use for my own pleasure. You are a piece of fuckmeat, my slave, and you will do everything I say when I say it because I know you want to be controlled and shown your place and shoved to your knees before me, made to take my cock deep into your throat until you happily gag on it. I heard your thoughts while you cleaned my house and you were always screaming for me to fuck you and control you, but all you need for it is one word, because taking a proud woman and turning her into a wanton slut is no fun unless she admits she needs it. So, little slutty Sarah: yes or no?"

As he finished, the Master pressed his cock firmly against Sarah's swollen clit, rubbing it slowly with the thick head of his dick as he stared into her eyes, already laughing, already knowing her answer, propping himself up to caress her breast gently with his free hand. Sarah squirmed under him. Everything was too soft, she needed him rougher than that, like an animal, and to be bred and filled and left destroyed....

When she answered, she whispered her response so softly that it was more breath than language, but her Master squeezed her breast tighter, palming her nipple while shooting her an inquisitive, expectant look, encouraging her to try again.

"Yes," she moaned softly.

Her Master laughed and retorted, "Yes what, whore?"

Sarah blushed and looked away, hot lust pooling in her stomach, electrifying her veins. If she said what he wanted, he would own her, completely. She would be his to control. She hesitated, her breaths coming faster, her hips and legs betraying her as they bucked and flexed to rub her clit against his massive shaft. She turned to him, defeated, dominated, controlled, owned, admitting she was his slut and his property, his fucktoy to use and tie up and spank, to be made available to him and guests and anyone he saw fit.

"Yes Master."

And her Master smiled and shifted his hips forward, his cock stretching her tight pussy so much Sarah couldn't breathe. No scream could come and no intake would either, the only sensation she knew was her Master's fat, long cock impaling her as he drove it deeper into her, sheathing it inch by inch into her twitching cunt until she felt his cock head pushing at her cervix, and he still didn't stop there. She writhed and moaned and hissed at him, straining to break free now that she had found her breath, but he kept her locked in position, legs open, facing him as he pushed the last inches of his member deep into her belly, his cock popping into her womb.

And there he stopped, letting Sarah adjust. He noticed with evil pleasure that her breathing was random, her heartbeat racing, her eyes dilating with the confusing combination of pain and pleasure, her body shifting to accommodate his throbbing dick, buried in her pussy until his balls dangled against her tight, unused asshole.

Sarah couldn't focus on anything. He just kept pushing it into her, when she thought it was over he just kept going until her body screamed, about to tear in half but also wracking her with wave after wave of incomparable pleasure, her brain giving up all but the most vital functions as she struggled to comprehend her surrender to this man, who had stuffed her tight teen cunt. As she finally began to understand what was happening, her Master began pulling his cock out. As he withdrew it from her pussy, Sarah felt emptier than she had before her Master fucked her. She whimpered softly and tried to push her ass toward him again, straining to keep it inside of her, but she watched in intense disappointment as he shifted farther back, his cock popping out of her vagina and bobbing twice before landing with a wet smack on her belly. Sarah angled her hips towards him.

When her Master looked down at her, he could see her eyes were desperate, begging, pleading with him for his cock. Without breaking eye contact, he grabbed his shaft with one hand and angled it down, rubbing his slut's clit as he did, and slowly, patiently, thrust forward again. He continued the process for five minutes, fucking her so slowly that her hips began bucking madly to plead for a harder fucking. Sarah got so impatient that she bucked up against her Master and caught him off guard, partially rolling him onto his side.

As Sarah would learn, this was either a mistake, or a wondrous discovery.

Immediately after she tried to wrest control from her Master, Sarah was slammed onto her back on the bed. She turned fearfully and her Master caught her in his gaze, one hand gripping her wrists as tightly as possible, another hand guiding his cock to her dripping cunt. Once he slid his tip inside her tight fuckhole, he used his free hand to slap her tits roughly, back and forth, the slaps stinging her skin but shocking her body, pain mixing with pleasure until Sarah couldn't tell between the two. He then leaned into her body, moving his hand from her reddening breasts to her neck. He plunged the full length of his cock into her womb at the same time as he wrapped his hand around her throat, squeezing tightly. He wouldn't stop. Sarah lost her air as her Master fucked her as roughly as she had wanted before, pounding into her over and over again, shaking her body and making her tits bounce up and down with every violent thrust, his cock popping in and out of her womb as her pussy spasmed in pleasure, his thighs hitting her ass on every stroke. In her dominated bliss, vision slowly blackening from air loss, Sarah struggled to keep her eyes on her Master's, knowing this would please him, instinctually understanding that all she existed for was to please her Master and serve his cock, the hard rod stretching her little cunt over and over, time stretching as he kept fucking her as roughly as he wished. All she could feel was his cock, his hand around her throat, and his smooth balls slapping her asshole again and again. Suddenly, her eyes shot open and she struggled to breath. Her vision was failing and electricity flew from her skin straight to her cunt. She was about to cum on her Master's cock for the first time.

As Sarah struggled to cry out and moan, her Master only fucked her rougher and faster. It was unbelievable how hard he could fuck her, driving his full length into her every time. Her body seized up and her cunt twitched uncontrollably. Just as Sarah could feel herself cumming, her Master let go of her throat and she screamed loudly, her cries of ecstasy broken up by almost sobbing moans, her bliss complete, her will broken. She was a cock slut, designed to be fucked and used by this man. All she wanted was his cock. It was all she could think about and imagine, submitting to him and taking his cock in any hole he wanted to use.

As if he had read her mind, Sarah's Master withdrew from her twitching labia and released her wrists. He instead grabbed her by her hair and used it to drag her to the foot of the bed, forcing her to scramble on hands and knees. Her Master turned her roughly around, practically picking her up to throw her down again, one hand unceremoniously pulling her ass up into the air, another pushing her face into the mattress. Still in post-orgasmic bliss, Sarah only figured out what he had planned when she felt the tip of his lubricated dick push against her asshole.

She had always imagined anal and fantasized about it. She had even tried it with a boyfriend once and found it to be great because it made his dick seem bigger. But with this man, her Master....She was unsure if she could take a cock that big. Even so, she looked back and began to protest, but was far too late. Before she could say a word, her Master was already pushing into her. She felt stuffed, completely full. She had no idea something that huge could fit inside her, but it made her feel satisfied and destroyed. As her Master sped up and fucked her more forcefully, his balls bouncing against her clit, quickly rocketing her into another orgasm, she was proud of her abilities; being able to take his cock, following orders so compliantly, pleasing him. All were rewarded by her Master with orgasms. As if on cue, he buried himself as deep into her as her tiny hole would allow, her firm ass shaking against her Master's tree-trunk thighs, and pushing her into another orgasm, and as her body exploded, her pleasure center flooding her with positivity and congratulating her for her complete submission, she let out a feral cry, a plea for her Master to breed her and ravage her body, to use her any way he wished.

He was more than happy to comply.

Before she knew it, Sarah found herself on her back again, her head over the side of the bed. Her reactions had long since become instinctual. Her jaw flew open, her throat relaxing and her lips tightening into a firm O. She fingered herself, fingers flicking her clit. Her Master stood in front of her, his cock hanging down, twitching with his pulse. As soon as she settled into her position, Sarah's Master lost no time. He pumped his cock a couple times and found it hard, then knelt and pushed the tip against Sarah's lips. She easily gave in and savored the taste of his cock mixed with her pussy and ass. Her mind went wild as she wrapped her lips and tongue around him, feeling his pulse in her mouth, letting him stretch her lips as he pushed deeper. She loved it, every inch, almost better than fucking. This was the ultimate service, the ultimate submission; taking a man's cock into her throat, making her completely powerless. She knew this act more than any other was a sign of her acceptance of enslavement. Her throat was just another hole for him to fuck, and she loved feeling his thick shaft slide over her tongue to the back of her throat and down, shifting her neck to allow for her Master's incredible length and girth. Sarah blinked quickly and looked up. There were still three inches to go, she thought, gagging slightly. Slowly but surely, he fit every last one inside of her throat. He thrust lightly, watching his cock fill Sarah's throat, treasuring the sight of a pretty little redhead slut's throat swelling with every push of his massive dick.

Sarah felt tears dropping from her eyes, but only from the strain. She was overjoyed to serve her Master. She was a slut. No, not a slut, his slut. She was his whore and his fucktoy and his little cum dumpster. She wanted this. This was her place, lips around a cock, serving completely, her body nothing but her Master's toy. She strained to stay on his long shaft, but began running out of hair. She coughed and spluttered and tapped his leg politely. Her Master did not budge. As the seconds passed, her need for air became more urgent, as did her leg taps. Finally, Sarah began to squirm on the bed, cock still buried deep in her throat, her lungs searching for air but finding none, and her Master grabbed her head and pulled it firmly onto his cock, not letting her budge.

Slowly, Sarah struggled less, her taps growing fainter, her eyes only focusing on the stiff rod just below her nose like a feeding tube stuffed into her throat. Her jaw and lips loosened and her eyes fluttered, watching the smooth balls pressed against her nose twitching and seeing them swing lightly with gentle thrusts, and then she didn't see or feel anything else, slipping into black.

When she came to, Sarah gasped in air like a man too long underwater, and almost immediately began moaning again. Her Master was behind her, pounding her pussy again. What finally woke her from her unconsciousness was a powerful orgasm. Sarah looked up at a mirror set up behind the bed frame and saw herself for the first time that night. She was red everywhere. Handprints were on her tits from her earlier spanking, the light mascara she had put on earlier was running down her face, her usually tame hair was balled into her Master's fist, and what hair wasn't stuck out in all directions. Her Master pulled her hair roughly, using it to guide her body and ass to push against him, the sound of their skin slapping filling the air. She looked lower and watched her round, full, firm tits swinging. She looked herself in the face and didn't see Sarah. She saw a willing fucktoy, a needy slave, and a redheaded slut. Seeing herself so owned, watching her Master dominate and fuck her, his cock sending her into another reeling orgasm, Sarah nearly collapsed in pleasure. She loved seeing herself being used, it was so raw and sinful and matched her Master's primal fucking and animalistic desire.