Bringing the Whore Home

"Ass on the edge of the seat, whore, and spread your legs wide." I groaned as I felt my cunt open. You leaned and rested your elbow on the divider between the seats, your hand coming down to stroke my cunt. I knew you were pleased to find me still so wet by the way you drew a steadying breath in through your nostrils.

The first few hours of the drive were a continuous torturing of my clit and cunt by your hand. By the time we reached the halfway point of our journey, I was flinching and moaning in my seat, on the very edge of cumming and beyond caring how many truckers honked at us in appreciation of the view as they passed. You pulled in to a rest area and turned off the car.

"Suck your master's cock, whore. Remember how you are to do it."

I knew exactly what you meant and leaned into your lap with my mouth to release your cock from your pants – my hands were absolutely not allowed. I didn't even think to look around the parking lot to see if anyone was there or if they could see us if they were. I needed to cum and the best way to ensure that happened was to give you whatever pleasure you demanded of me. Not to mention the fact that I was looking forward to being able to worship your cock. I lived to pleasure you this way and the throat fucking you gave me at the reception hall didn't give me a chance to really savor you.

The taste of you was becoming comfortingly familiar. The gentle mix of musk, salt, and tangy pre-cum filled my nostrils and made my mouth water. I placed my hands on the divider between the seats to balance myself and felt the clips on my nipples press into my flesh. Your cock looked much as you had described it to me – a large head with the ridge separating it from the shaft standing out prominently. It was thick with blood, the veins seeming to pulse as I moved to pull you into my mouth. Using my lips and tongue, I gently lifted your heavy cock, and then pivoted my head to take you in. I was encouraged when I heard you moan. Last night you had been so bent on using me that your control was firmly in place and I didn't ever sense that you were allowing yourself to completely enjoy the feeling of my body engulfing you. Determined that you not regret giving me leave to please you this way, I clamped my mouth around your cock and began the slow and steady suction that I knew you liked.

I used my tongue to trace up and down your shaft as I moved my mouth on you. All the time sucking you in, my cheeks were collapsing as I pulled my head back. I tried to remember everything I'd ever learned about how you liked to have your cock worshiped from our conversations online. I wanted so much to lean back and take you into my hands – feel the rigidity of your cock, weigh your balls in my palm, stroke you and use my thumb to rub your pre-cum into the head – but you had only commanded me to suck, and I wanted very much to show you that I was worthy of serving you.

Before long I realized that your hips were moving to meet my mouth. I gave a satisfied moan when it occurred to me that you weren't going to hold back, and I doubled my efforts to pull your cock into my throat through sucking alone. When I felt your hand grip my hair, I relaxed all the muscles in my mouth, leaving only my lips wrapped firmly around you. Your cock was swelling and your thrusts were demanding entrance to my throat. I heard you growl through gritted teeth, "Take it, whore. Serve."

And then the scalding blast of your cum filled my mouth. I swallowed as quickly as possible knowing that there was going to be a lot more. Two, three, four more spurts followed, one immediately after the other, and once I had managed to swallow those, I began sucking forcefully again. It was my responsibility to drain your balls – your cum was my reward for serving you well.

Once I had pulled the last of your seed from you, I gently cleaned your cock as it began to soften in my mouth. Satisfied that I had gotten every extra bit of cum and saliva off you, I softly sucked my way up to the head, giving it a few tentative swipes with my tongue. I felt the hand gripping my hair shift and lift my head completely off you. Again you used my hair and turned me to face the steering wheel. I knew you must have been drying your cock with my hair. I saw what I thought was a tremor pass through your body from the corner of my eye and was happy that I seemed to have pleased you.

Your hand released my hair and you said, "Back to your seat, whore." As soon as I had moved back over the divider, you shifted and opened the latch of the glove box. You handed me a small black velvet bag. "Go and use the restroom. Once you have finished and cleaned yourself, place the item in this bag into your cunt and come back to the car. Your collar and lead will remain on and you will not close your dress until you are finished in the restroom, whore."

I couldn't help it – my wide, frightened eyes shot to your face. You firmly said the only word you needed to, "Obey."

Trembling, I opened the car door and scooted my soaked cunt across the seat. I hurriedly walked toward the flat building, careful to keep my head down and avoid even glancing around to see if there were other people who might witness me streaking across the parking lot. I hit the bathroom door and flew into a stall. Standing there panting for breath, I braced myself against the locked door and wondered what the hell I had gotten myself into. You knew these tasks were the hardest for me. The thought of someone witnessing me being a whore frightened me beyond anything I've ever known. It's not that I was ashamed of my status or that I didn't take great pride in serving you, but I feared the judgment of those who wouldn't understand how beautiful a thing it was to belong to you. And yet, when I squatted above the bowl of the toilet, I could see my juices running down my thighs.

Peeing when I'm frightened is hard enough, but after I've spent hours clenching my muscles to prevent an orgasm, it's nearly impossible to relieve the pressure in my bladder. After an eternity of walking the tightrope between relaxing enough to pee but not enough to cum, I finally breathed a shaky sigh when I felt the warm stream escaping. When I was finished, I opened the velvet bag and upturned it over the palm of my hand. A bullet vibrator stared back at me. I groaned loudly, but there was no help for it.

Walking out of the stall, I tucked the now empty velvet bag into the belt of my dress, and making sure my lead didn't fall into the sink, washed my hands. As I turned to the paper towel dispenser, an older woman walked into the restroom. She glanced up and shot me a quick grin as she moved toward the stalls, but as she was closing the door I saw her giving me a harder look in the mirror. I blushed, dropped my gaze and walked out the door. Again, I kept my head and eyes down as I crossed the parking lot to the car. I opened the door and moved to get in, but didn't raise my dress from my ass until the last moment before I sat down. Once the door was closed I placed my hands in my lap and waited while my cheeks, throat, and chest burned in embarrassment.

"Give me the bag, whore." I removed it from my belt and placed it in your outstretched hand. You reached across me again to replace the bag into the glove box. "Open your dress and wait." And with that you got out of the car and used the remote to lock the doors. My hands shaking like a palsy victim, I untied the belt and pulled the dress open once again. I didn't dare move more than that for fear of attracting someone's attention. You had locked me in but that wouldn't prevent anyone from seeing my body displayed. The minutes seemed to drag on and I thought that it surely couldn't take this long for you to use the restroom. The clicking of the lock made me jump and when I saw you get into the car carrying bottles of water and a couple of bags of snacks I understood why you had been gone so long. I was still sure that you had stood and watched to see if anyone took an interest in me, but now I knew that that wasn't the only reason why you took so long in coming back. As mortified as I was at what you had commanded of me, the feeling was tempered by the warmth of knowing that you were serious about seeing to my needs as well as your own pleasure.

"You did very well, whore. Have your water and your treat. I skipped breakfast in the interest of saving time, and I'll do the same with lunch. We still have a few hours on the road and, as much as I would love to parade you in front of a restaurant full of people, I don't want the delay of another stop."

I opened the water bottle and took a slow pull. I hadn't noticed before, but my mouth was terribly dry, and the cool water was soothing. That is until I felt the bullet buzzing deep inside my cunt. I tried to gulp and gasp at the same time and the water came spurting out my nose. Eyes burning and tearing up, I turned to you with my mouth gaping open in disbelief. I saw you try to keep from laughing, but my expression must have been too amusing for you to hold it in. Still grinning as you dabbed at my nose and eyes with a napkin, you asked, "My poor darling. Did you forget the bullet was in there?"

"Yes, Master."

"That will teach you to concentrate, whore. You are mine to use as I see fit – at all times. Don't forget again." The rebuke was softened by the love and humor I saw in your expression. The bullet kicked to a higher speed as you began to dab at the water that had landed on my chest. You leaned forward and flicked each of my nipples with your tongue making me groan and squirm in my seat.

Apparently satisfied that you had taught me my lesson, you started the car and maneuvered us back onto the highway. My body was dangerously close to orgasm now. You had left the bullet buzzing away, I still had the taste of your cum in my mouth, and I was incredibly aroused thinking about everything you had demanded of me at the rest area. I had been keyed up to cum since you bathed me last night, but I wanted to make a good impression and was putting off begging for an orgasm as long as possible. Just when I began to open my mouth to beg, I felt the bullet slow to a much lower speed. You must have heard the air rushing out of my lungs in relief.

"How close were you, whore?"

"Master, I was just about to beg."

"You're doing very well. You've had practice at orgasm denial, of course, but never in my presence, and never with me pushing you this hard. Do you still want to beg?"

"Only if it pleases you, Master."

"Good girl. I want you to hold out as long as you can. I prefer that you not cum at all until after we arrive at my home. It is my wish that you endure for me. Do you think you can please me in this, whore?"

"Yes, Master. I'll try." My answer was rushed and breathless. Another opportunity to prove how worthy of serving you I was.

Your neighborhood seemed much like any other as we pulled into the driveway. I saw the bar across the street, and I looked around trying to guess which house had the hot neighbor you had told me about. Your house was as you described it. You had a lovely yard, with detailed landscaping – your wife's green thumb at work, I assumed – and a beautiful porch spanning the front of the house. You kicked the speed on the bullet up again to get my attention.

"Welcome to your new home, whore. I take it you like what you see?"

"Yes, Master."

I clenched and released my cunt muscles as the vibrator buzzed. I had been sitting in a puddle of my own cunt juices for hours and you only had allowed me to close my dress a few blocks ago. I was quickly losing awareness of where we were and what was about to happen. My hands closed to fists in my lap as you sat and watched me. I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing evenly, waiting for you to give me your next command.

"When we go inside I want you to remain behind me and slightly to my right. You will be allowed to stand and walk until I tell you otherwise. Your behavior today has been impeccable, and I expect it to remain so, whore. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Master."

"None of your famously ferocious temper will be tolerated – no matter the provocation. The woman you are about to meet is my wife, not a slave. She has rights and liberties that you will never have. You will serve her – respect her – as an extension of your service to me. Do you understand, whore?"

"Yes, Master."

This hadn't occurred to me. In all my wonderings about what our life together would be like, I had never imagined that your wife would become my mistress. I found myself anxious about having someone else being made aware of my status – and about serving a woman. Sharing me with a woman was something we had discussed, but as yet it hadn't actually happened.

You turned off the engine, lowered the speed on the bullet, got out of the car, and came around to open my door. After you collected my lead, I followed you up the porch steps and into the house – behind and slightly to your right. I noticed immediately why you called this a "home". There were personal touches of needlepoint and potted plants warming the room. The sunlight coming in the windows gave the space an airy feel and I knew that I would enjoy living here with you. And then I noticed the figure sitting on the end of the couch.

"I can't believe you actually did it. Bastard." I flinched at her tone. I could sense a deep swell of anger in the words as she flung them at you.

"I told you I was going to, Sarah. And I told you on the phone this morning what to do if you weren't prepared to accept it."

I stood there, body completely rigid, half of me wanting to bolt and the other half wanting to hide behind you. You had told me she was formidable, but I hadn't realized the intensity of her personality would hit me like a brick wall. In my life away from you I was also a force to be reckoned with, but you had effectively stripped all my defenses to nothing. And I was expected to serve this woman? I shuddered at the thought. She hated me, and she was too angry with you for me to feel confident that she would protect your property as you did. She hadn't even looked at me, but that very lack of acknowledgement told me where I stood in her mind. I jerked when I heard your voice snap like a whip.

"Whore. Present."

I nearly stumbled over myself as I scrambled to my knees and raised my hands behind my head. Legs spread, eyes down, tits jiggling at the suddenness of my movements. I knew your eyes were locked on her, I could see the tension in your fist gripping my lead, but I wondered if she had watched me rush to obey you. I wondered what she thought about the position I had taken. And then I knew......disdain.

"You don't have to show off for me, you piece of shit. I'm sure the little cunt obeys you very willingly. Why else would you want her?"

"I love her."

I gasped. I thought you must have gone mad, and I feared that those three words had sealed my fate with this woman. She rose very deliberately from the couch and moved toward us. Everything about her body language told me she was wound tight. The buzzing in my cunt hit full speed. I whimpered, unable to believe that you could want me soaking as I witnessed this scene. "Open your dress, whore." My hands fumbled with the knot of the belt and a small sound of distress escaped my throat. She hadn't slowed one bit and was almost upon us when I finally got the dress open and returned my hands to lock behind my head.

"Soak, whore."

I groaned to feel the heat spreading through my cunt, watching detachedly as she drew her hand back. A split second before her palm connected with your face, I saw your hand whip out and grab her wrist. You twisted it and used her lack of balance to pull her to her knees. Switching her wrist to the hand that held my lead – your right hand – you took your left and grabbed the back of her neck, holding her in place. She was no more than two feet in front of me. Your body was a buffer between us as you squatted on your haunches and forced her to look at me over your shoulder.

"Cum, whore."

My mind exploded before my body did, but it was a close race. The blackness came and edged out my vision just before my eyes drifted closed and I cried out as my cunt began convulsing. I swayed on my knees and my cries became body-jarring sobs. All the hours of torment with your hands and the bullet, the exhilaration of the challenges on our journey, the tension and violence of our "homecoming" – they all conspired to shock me into wave after wave of release. I suddenly realized that there was another ear-splitting cry in the room. This one even more tortured than my own. She was screaming one word over and over, "Why? Why?"

The buzzing in my cunt stopped altogether and I fought to catch my breath, my body shaking with irregular tremors. I had, by some miracle, managed to hold my position through the ordeal and put my effort into continuing to present. Opening my eyes, I saw you stroking her hair as she wept. You were murmuring to her softly. As you heard me calming, you turned your head toward me and gave me the saddest look I have ever seen. Her pain was hurting you. You released her and stood slowly. She collapsed onto the floor, curling into the fetal position as she continued to sob. As you stepped back from us, you dropped my lead.

I glanced up at you again – the question in my eyes. With the slightest nod from you, I moved over to my new mistress and began to make soothing noises. Tentatively, I reached out for her and when she offered no resistance, I gathered her into my arms and began stroking her softly. Rocking gently and planting feather-light kisses all over her face, I crooned to her, "Sshhh, Mistress. It's all right. Sshhh. It'll be okay."