Answer The Question

We'd been out together all day, so your home was a welcome sight. I'd had to endure hours of your gaze on me, your fingers trailing teasingly up my thighs, pulling up my skirt when no one was looking, the feel of your teeth on my neck as you ground yourself against me from behind. Surprisingly, you hadn't touched me in the car, though I sat with spread legs and my skirt pulled up to expose my wet pussy at your instruction. Cool air from the a/c caressed my skin and worked to cool my ardor as you drove us back to your house, eyes focused on the road, the car silent except for the quiet noise of the radio.

You hold the door open for me -- you claimed before that it was chivalry, but I know you enjoy watching the sway of my hips in high heels. I pause in the entryway, hearing the door close behind you, and smile, waiting. It doesn't take long. You press yourself against me, sweeping the hair away from my neck and kissing the exposed skin, smiling against me as I moan and grind my ass against you.

"Eager for a fuck, my slut?" you whisper, hands sliding up my shirt to grip my breasts tightly, pulling my bra out of your way. Just the sound of your voice turns me on and I flush brightly.

"I'm not a—" I begin, before realizing my error and biting off the end of my sentence. You still behind me.

"Not a what?" Your tone is stern, and I know it will be worse if I don't answer you.

"I'm not a slut, Sir. I'm a good girl," I say quietly, eyes locked on the floor.

"Don't lie to me, kitten. Tell me what you are."

"I'm a good girl, Sir." I answer more firmly this time. You let go of me and step away, coming to stand in front of me. I chance a glance at your face and see a smile playing at the edge of your lips.

"You're not a slut?" you ask, using your fingers to tilt my chin up. I lock eyes with you, a thrill running down my spine, and shake my head.

"No Sir." The smile that comes across your face opens a pit of need deep in my stomach. You're still playing with me, as you have been all day. I've forgotten that you can be frustratingly patient. The needier I am, the more you seem willing to wait for it. I can see already it's going to be a long day of torture before, and likely after, we both find release.

You grip my face gently in both your hands, kissing and biting my lips until I melt against you. I love the feeling of your hands moving over me, pulling me into you like I can never be close enough. One hand cups the back of my neck, the other resting at the small of my back, holding me near you. Pleasure radiates through me and I grip your shirt at the waist, tugging it free so I can slip my hands underneath and feel your skin. I run my fingertips against your chest, my nails lightly scratching. Just as I begin to relax you move, quickly spinning us, pressing my face against the wall and pinning me there from behind. My hands slap against the cool wood as I catch myself. Hands grip my hips hard, pulling my ass towards you and forcing me to arch my back and present myself to you. I can only imagine how I must look; my face flushed, eyes glazed with need, lips red and swollen, my legs parted so you can stand between them, my ass waiting for your hands on it. 'I look like a slut,' I think, and I can feel myself growing wetter by the second.

"Tell me, kitten," you say, voice calm, hands slowly drawing the skirt up my legs until I am completely exposed to you. "What kind of girl goes out in public without any panties on?" Your right hand caresses the globe of my ass gently.

"A slut, Sir," I answer, not bothering to hide the ire in my voice. We both know I am not wearing panties on your orders. I receive a warning smack for my tone and bite back a yelp.

"And what kind of girl exposes herself in a car, where anyone might see her?" Your hands are running up and down my thighs, fingers drawing circles so close to where I need them that I fight not to press back against you.

"A slut, Sir." Another warning smack, this time on the other cheek.Your fingers circle again and a fresh wave of need runs through me, my knees threatening to buckle.

"And what kind of girl gets wet from that sort of behavior?" Fingers dip into me and I moan quietly, arching my back further and pressing back against your hand. I can feel the blush on my face, the knowledge that even now I'm acting like a slut making my cheeks burn even as it makes me crave you that much more. You let me grind myself on your fingers for a moment and I moan again, louder, but you pull your hand away. I earn two more smacks, each harder than before, and a small cry escapes me before I catch myself.

"A slut does, Sir." Your hand slides up my back and grips my hair tightly, forcing me to turn my head and look back at you.

"So what does that make you, kitten? And don't lie to me again."

You're smirking, and I can't help myself. I smile back as I answer, never able to resist the temptation to pit my will against yours, knowing I'll lose in the best way. "I'm a good girl, Sir."

"Oh, kitten." Your eyes narrow and you let go of my hair. A foot roughly kicks my legs further apart and I bend lower against the wall to steady myself.

Your hands are rough against my skin, your calloused palms against my softness making me shiver in anticipation. I don't have to wait long. You don't bother to start lightly, trusting that I'm ready for it, and I am. I hold still, forcing myself not to tense up as you spank me. The burning skin of my ass tells me just how red it's becoming. I lose count after 15. You don't stop until I am sure I have started to bruise and I am making short, pained sounds with each slap.

"What are you?" you grind out, voice harsh. One palm rubs soothingly against me as the fingers of your other hand find my slit, slick with need, and begin stroking me gently. I rock back against your hand, whimpering with need.

I take a deep breath before I answer, not ready to give in yet. "I'm a good girl."

The spanking begins again and I feel like my skin is on fire. You don't stop until my legs have begun to tremble. Pain mixes with pleasure in the pit of my stomach and I feel my orgasm building. This time the hand that finds me isn't gentle. Fingerfucking me roughly, your thumb circling my clit, you grab my hair hard and yank my head to the side until I'm looking at you.

"What are you?" Your voice is husky. I can feel your hard cock through your jeans pressing against me, straining to be let out. Pleasure floods my brain and makes it hard to think, to remember why I'm resisting you in the first place.

"I'm a-" your thumb presses against my clit and my answer is lost in a keening moan as I buck against your hand. Your fingers rub intoxicatingly inside my wet cunt, stretching me, making me ready for your thick cock. I want to cum, badly, but I know you'd really punish me if I did without permission. "Please, Sir, please may I cum?"

"What are you?"

"I'm a good girl," I gasp out stubbornly, glaring futilely at you, and your hand leaves me immediately, taking my orgasm with it. I groan at the loss of contact, letting my head go limp in your grasp. When you let my hair go I slump forward against the wall again, panting. Over the sound of blood rushing through my head I hear you pull off your belt and I brace myself.

The contact of leather against my skin is explosive, a white light flashing behind my eyes. You strike me twice more and it's too much. I put my hands out behind me, covering my sensitive flesh and signaling that I cannot take any more. "Please, Sir!" I hear your growl and then you are binding my arms together with your belt at the elbow. I hear you unzip and one hand grips my hair again as you rub the head of your cock against me, pressing in slightly before withdrawing.

"What are you, kitten?" Hips sliding forward, your shaft slides against my clit and I moan loudly, not answering. "Tell me what you are and you can have what you want," you say, repeating the motion. The wave of pleasure in me is too high and I can't bear to have you stop again.

"I'm a slut. I'm your slut, Sir," I whisper, losing the battle to pleasure, and I swear I can hear your smug grin as you line your cock up and slam into me. My pussy burns deliciously as it stretches around the hard shaft battering into it. You set a rapid pace, pausing only to pull my shirt open so your hands can attack my breasts, pinching and pulling at my nipples. My earlier orgasm rebuilds quickly and I begin to beg you shamelessly, panting out, "Please, please Sir let me cum. Let me cum for you!"

"What are you?"

"I'm a slut, Sir! Please let this filthy slut cum all over your thick cock!"

"Cum for me then, slut," you order and I scream in ecstasy, my muscles fluttering around you as you continue to fuck me. "Keep cumming," you say, knowing a second orgasm has come just as quickly, and I do, moaning. I ride the waves of pleasure, trembling against you as you hold me upright, slowing your pace but not stopping. "Good girl," you whisper, and I laugh breathlessly, turning my head to kiss you.

You capture my lips with your own, still slowly thrusting into me until I steady myself. When I am able to hold myself up you pull out and I groan at the emptiness. "Knees," you order, stroking your cock while you wait for me to comply. I kneel in front of you, my knees spread wide, the belt forcing me to thrust my breasts outward for you. You surprise me by gently cupping my chin and bending to kiss me sweetly, a tender gesture that floods me with affection for you. I try to convey without words that I would do anything you ask of me, anything for Sir. You're smiling when you pull away, your hand moving to my hair and guiding my open mouth onto your shaft.

I rub my tongue against you, tasting myself on you, and I moan around your cock. You continue to pull and I focus on taking your cock as deeply as possible. I love the feeling of you filling my throat as I force my face against you. You relax your grip to let me pull back and I do, swirling my tongue around you, tracing the head and pressing against the tip before sliding you slowly back into my throat. "Oh, fuck," you whisper, hand twitching slightly in my hair. Your voice sends a spark of pleasure straight to my clit and I can feel my arousal start again. I do it again and you let out a deep moan, eyes falling closed, letting me have control for the moment. Inside I am smirking, fully intending to repay your torture with my own. I move agonizingly slowly, keeping a constant pressure I know won't let you cum, and set to work sucking and licking and worshipping your cock. I run my lips down the underside, gently taking each of your balls into my mouth, laving at them with my tongue.

When you've had enough of my teasing you twine both hands into my hair and pull my mouth back onto you, guiding me now, forcing your cock deep into my throat and holding it there. I breathe through my nose as my throat spasms around you, and when you pull back I gasp, coughing, as I struggle to catch my breath. You do it again, and again - over and over you force me to choke on your hard shaft, pausing long enough that I never quite fully catch my breath, your eyes locked on mine.

"Such a pretty little slut," you growl, picking up the pace, facefucking me roughly. I moan with need around your cock, getting wetter the harder you use me. I redouble my efforts, wanting desperately to make you cum, wanting the reward of tasting you. "You look good with a cock in your whore mouth," you say, and I groan, arousal and shame mixing together. I love when you talk to me like this, like I am just a hole to be fucked, used and discarded. The noise your cock makes as it hits my throat is obscene, which only serves to add to my shame, knowing I am being used like a dirty slut by you. I know you're close to cumming and I moan eagerly, the vibrations heightening your pleasure.

"Fuuuuuck," you cum with a curse, pulling out enough to flood my mouth. I swallow, continuing to suck and lick gently until you pull fully away from me, taking your hands out of my hair. You help me to my feet, holding me against you as you remove your belt from around my arms. I lean into you and kiss your neck, rubbing my body on yours, still hungry to be used.

My efforts don't go unnoticed. You kiss my cheek, then point me by the shoulders towards the stairs. "Get upstairs, kitten, and pick out some toys. I'm not done with you yet," you say, giving my ass a gentle swat to send me on my way. Smiling, I follow your orders, as always.