Collection 3: Succession

Matt was nodding along the whole time. When Brandi was done, she added, "You're going to wait here for thirty minutes. You'll count in your head. At the end, you'll remember leaving me in this bed after being done fucking me. Then you'll go talk to your friend and apologize." She then stood and turned off the video camera. She walked back to Matt.

She was angry. Not because he tried to take advantage of her, but because he tried to take advantage of Master. She made Master unhappy. And that was unforgivable. Master's device was still running. She decided to add one more thing.

Brandi bunched his still-hard dick, holding nothing back. Matt's body shook in response, but his eyes remained empty, waiting for orders. Brandi said, "Your dick hurts because of how good the fucking was." Then she turned off the device, picked up the camera, and left the room while Matt counted.

Master was looking out the window in his room when Brandi entered. He glanced at her and then turned back out the window. He was still unhappy. "That was fast," he said softly. Brandi thought that perhaps he had been crying. "I thought he would have taken his time more."

"I didn't fuck him," Brandi said softly. Master turned sharply. There was an odd mixture of anger and relief in his eyers. Brandi added, "But he thinks I did."

"What do you mean?" Master asked.

"I recorded it," Brandi said. She extended the video camera. Master approached her, took the camera, and watched. Midway through, he closed his eyes and Brandi was sure she saw a tear drop out of the corner of his eye. He pursed his lips in a thin smile.

"Did I overstep, Master?" Brandi asked softly.

"No," Master said with a deep breath. "You did phenomenally." He set the camera on the nightstand and closed the door. "How long do we have before he gets here?"

"I came right here," Brandi said. "Probably twenty-five minutes."

"Good," Master said, pulling down Brandi's panties.

He threw her against the wall, holding her up by her thighs. He maneuvered her until he could slide in and found her wet and waiting. As Master began to fuck her, Brandi didn't need any coaching to say what he wanted to hear—it was the same truth that was echoing inside her brain.

"I am your personal, private fuckdoll," Brandi said. "Nobody gets to touch me but you. This body is your exclusive property."

"Want it," Master grunted. There was a brute fury to the order. "Want that fucking orgasm." Normally when he rewarded her, it was intentional and almost serene. Now, it was aggressive and desperate—something primal in him. Brandi expected Master to command he to want it ever since he used the word, "Phenomenally" to describe her action, but it didn't stop the immediate feeling of lust and pleasure that exploded from her pussy midway through her Master's thrust.

She continued: "I am your Queen of Whores. It is the title that gives my life meaning. It means that you are my King. This pussy is exclusively for your personal pounding. My throat is yours to fill. These tits are for your eyes, your dick, and your hand alone. I am only ever for you. Being fucked and used by you is my own heaven. I hope that I'm able to give you a slice of personal heaven too."

"You are. You do," he was grunting in pleasure, meaning that he was getting close. That was good, because so was Brandi. When they really got going with each other, it didn't take either of them very long. Master wasn't being gentle, but that was perfect. It was how he wanted it, which meant it was how she wanted it.

"Fuck your Queen's little dripping pussy, my King," Brandi shouted in his hear. "She's such a little whore and she needs it from you. Ohhhh god I need it from you." She sunk her teeth into his shoulder, tasting his sweat.

His grunts were desperate and his thrusting was deep, hard, and desperate.

"Cum inside your private little whore. Know that nobody else gets to do that," Brandi said. She was holding off on her own orgasm, trying to time it. When he let loose, so did she. They both let out noises that were somewhere between moans, grunts, and shouts. It was pure sex and pleasure.

Then, they were quiet. Master pulled out and set her down. Brandi immediately dropped to her knees and took him in her mouth. She licked him clean and sucked him dry. Then she stood.

"I think it's best if I'm not here when Matt gets here," Brandi said. "It might confuse him."

"I agree," Master nodded. "But come back here when Matt leaves."

"Yes Master," Brandi nodded. She smiled. Did we he want to sexually claim her again?

Brandi had Erin tell her when Matt left. Apparently he was very apologetic, morose, and quick to leave. Erin also mentioned that he was walking oddly, as if in pain. That made Brandi smile. When Brandi emerged back in Master's room, he gestured at the bed. He was changing out of his shirt and getting ready for bed.

"Stay with me tonight," he said.

"Yes sir," Brandi said. "Would you like me to do anything to put you to sleep?" She presented her body for him as she spoke, laying across the sheets with one knee in the air and her body turned towards him. She looked good and she knew it.

"No, I think I'm..." he started to say, then he looked at her. His eyes dropped to her tits and he shrugged. "You know what? Fuck it. Blow me, bitch."

He hopped into the bed and she went to work with her mouth. He had fucked a lot that day and it hadn't been long since his last orgasm. Brandi coaxed his dick hard, nursed it with her tongue, and gave a long, slow, tender blowjob. She didn't rush to get him off. Rather, every motion was in service to his pleasure, with long, lingering thrusts of her tongue and teasing fingers on his balls. She kept her eyes focused on his as much as possible and, whenever her lips weren't needed to suck, she was smiling at him. She took off her top midway through, which inspired him to adjust his order from blowjob to tit-job. That served Brandi fine. She wrapped her tits around his dick and bounced up and down for him while telling him that she was "a worthless fucking whore who needs stuffed in order to have a single coherent thought" and "a fucktoy who needs covered in your thick hot cum". He finished on her chest. They ordered another slut to come in and lick Brandi's chest clean, then Brandi climbed on top of her King and he wrapped his arms around his Queen of Whores. They were asleep within minutes.

Brandi still blew him awake in the morning.

One day, after Master's morning blowjob, Brandi was displaying herself on his bed while he got dressed. He kept stealing glances at her, admiring her form. He must have seen her dressed up for him thousands of times by now. He had seen her nude, covered in his cum, begging for more. One of the first times he had ever fucked her was when Brandi was wearing a cheerleader outfit, standing in for all the bitches who had rejected him in high school. She had dominated supersluts in leather with a whip. She had gotten him off with her big tits. There was absolutely nothing new to see of Brandi, unless Master came up with another twisted fantasy. Despite all of this, he still liked looking at her, displayed on the bed for him. It made Brandi wonder how long he would enjoy her appearance. It made her wonder how she should best take care of her Master.

"I think I know what I want for the third fantasy room," Master said after he dressed. "I want a high class, romantic, passionate meetup." This was new for Brandi. He liked to degrade his girls and the words "high class" were never used. "One girl. One classy girl. Lots of candles, low lighting... all that. Do you know the vibe I'm thinking of?"

"Yes, I believe so," Brandi nodded. She got to work immediately.

Master had never asked for something like this before, not even back when they were living in Master's tiny home in the suburbs. But maybe that was the point. He had his pick of big-tit, dumb sluts begging to be wrecked by his dick. Now he wanted some more variety in his experiences. Brandi wanted to make sure that it was perfect.

The room was the easy part. Fine leather furniture was brought in. A thick fur rug covered the black tile ceiling. They installed a fireplace in one wall of the room. A long, sturdy table with high-backed chairs were added, with an elaborate centerpiece with tall candles. Brandi visited some more expensive furniture stores in the city, asking tastefully-minded experts their opinions. The room was easy. It was the girl that was hard.

Master had said one girl. High class. That meant that Brandi couldn't find the big-titted bimbos on Instagram and teach them to suck dick. She needed a girl who moved right. A girl who knew how to handle herself and a man. A girl who was sexy, yes, but more in an alluring way than a fucktoy way. Hot wasn't enough. She needed a girl who bridged hot and classy in an effortless way.

Brandi roamed expensive stores, political gatherings, upper-suite corporate parties at multi-million-dollar companies. There were plenty of girls, some of them even hot, but none of them with that special charm. Brandi didn't want to keep her Master waiting, but even worse was delivering less than perfection on his fantasy.

Brandi pulled up movie clips of high class prostitutes, the types that the movies showed visiting billionaires and senators. The girls on screen were nearly perfect, but Brandi didn't know where to find girls like that. Finally, it hit her. She wasn't looking for someone who was from the upper class, she was looking for someone who knew how to act upper class. Not just a high-quality girl, but a girl who knew how to act high-quality. Brandi needed an actress.

She went to agents and said she was filming an independent film and needed a girl to play an alluring, upper-class romantic partner. She even had one of the girls who was a gifted writer draw up a script for her and hosted auditions. Many of the girls were young and enthusiastic, but lacked the proper poise that Brandi was looking for. Some had that poise down, but were older or not quite pretty enough. Brandi was not willing to settle. On her third mass audition, she found the girl.

Her name was Valerie. She was a beautiful brunette with thick, straight hair. Her eyes were deep brown and seemed to look inside whoever she laid them on. She was thin, but well portioned. Her breasts were not as large as most of Master's hoes, but Brandi thought that was possibly better. It made her look more respectable and less like a fuckdoll. When she walked, Valerie commanded the room. Every muscle was intentional in its motion and she seemed to glide like a piece of art. There was a hint of an accent in her voice, but Brandi couldn't put her finger on it. She spoke each syllable of every word, her voice soft and charming, but clear and purposeful. She was perfect.

Brandi offered her the job. With a few quick applications of Master's device, Valerie was free of her contract with her agent, her loved ones believed she was shooting on location and it wouldn't be weird if she was gone for a while, and Valerie's mind belonged to Master.

Brandi programmed Valerie differently from most girls. She wasn't the degraded whore whose job it was to get Master off in whatever filthy way he wanted it. She was devoted to Master, but she believed that it was the most important thing in the world to give him the night of his life every time she saw him. She would follow orders, but she would also lead him. She could get off, but Master's pleasure was the priority. She was to make Master feel like the King of the whole damned city. For good measure, Brandi still had her train her gag reflexes away and still ordered her to crave the approval of a collar.

Brandi bought Master a suit. She helped him dress, tied his tie for him, and made sure that he looked sharp. Brandi and him both knew that he could walk in with sweat pants and a t-shirt, but there was something about raising his own appearance up that would elevate the whole night. Of course, Brandi was still in slutty lingerie as she helped him, which Brandi thought was a good representation of their relationship. She wasn't meant to be elevated. She was meant to elevate him.

The sun had set and the lights of the city were bright. Master actually looked nervous, as if he were on a first date. Brandi supposed he was, but he still had nothing to be nervous about. Brandi knew that a high class bitch was still second to the King.

Master descended the stairs and left Brandi behind. She heard the rest of it from Valerie later.

Master entered the room. It was dark, lit only by the fire in the fireplace, the candles on the table, and the lights of the city. The room smelled of fine leather and smoke. Valerie was standing by the table when he entered. She wore a fine silk dress that clung to her like water. Its neckline was low and it hugged her curves in every way.

"I thought you would like some wine," Valerie said, pouring a glass of red wine for him. They stood by the window, sipping wine and watching the city. Eventually, Valerie turned and leaned him, giving him a long lingering kiss with a tongue that explored his lips. Her hand ran down the length of his tie, gently pulling his mouth lower towards him. When her hand ran out of tie, it landed on his belt buckle and she pulled him closer. His hands were tentative, perhaps for the first time in years. But whenever they landed, Valerie leaned into them.

Valerie moved them towards the fireplace, resting Master on the firm leather loveseat. She let the shoulders of her dress slip down her arms, exposing her breasts while staring at him with a passionate intensity. It was a look that said, "Watch me. This is for you." Then she slowly climbed on top of him and kissed him.

They tangled on the loveseat, her silk dress, her hair, and her perfume mixing in a blend of sexual energy. Neither of them knew when his buckle had come undone or when the rest of her dress had slipped off. But they both paused when he entered her. She lowered her hips slowly down, his dick sliding into her. Her soft moan was barely audible over the crackling of the fire.

Master was used to plowing a bitch's pussy or deepthroating a slut at his leisure, but this time Valerie set the pace. She moved slow, each motion of her hips like a caressing of his dick. She didn't stop so much as she rolled into her next motion, lifting again and lowering.

"You are so beautiful," Master said with almost a shudder. His hands were on his hips, but his eyes were on her breasts. Her soft skin glowed in the light of the fireplace.

"I am all yours tonight, my love," Valerie purred.

It wasn't just a fucking. It wasn't even just sex. It was almost a work of art, with Valerie's body as the brush and Master's as the canvas. She edged him upward slowly and with delicate care. Every motion was thick with intention and passion. Her lips explored his neck and chest, perfectly timed with the rocking of her hips and pussy. She seemed to know when he was cumming. She didn't pick up the pace as much as she deepened her motions, drawing it out and making his need for release greater and greater. When he came, she pushed herself down on him, keeping him deep inside her. At the same time, she wiggled her hips back and forth. Then she lifted and dropped a few times, finishing him off and maximizing his orgasm.

Master lay on the loveseat, breathing deeply—even desperately. Valerie planted kisses down his body, letting him rest. Then she stood and crossed the room back to the table. She retrieved the two glasses of wine and returned to the loveseat. They drank slowly. Master watched her body in the flickering light of the fire.

At the end of the wine, Valerie reached out and took Master's glass. She said, "I don't want you to be late on account of me." There was of course nothing for Master to be late for, but the entire night had been an illusion. Valerie knew that she couldn't very well simply say, "We're done" and leave. She continued, "But I don't want this to be our only night together. It can't be. Will you come see me again?" Valerie was an excellent actress, perhaps aided by Brandi's programming that gave her devotion to Master. She looked at him with an expression of pure hope. In that look, Master believed that he was the more important of the two. She might have called the shots, led him through the night, set the pace, and give him the pleasure, but at the end of it she was hoping that he would come see her again. She might have been the high class woman, the most passionate and alluring lover in the city, but she was waiting on his approval. That made him the most important man in the city.

"I'll try to get away," Master said, taking the role of the important man who might give a favor to the girl who wanted him. Valerie leaned into it, smiling hopefully. As Master left, Valerie was laying on the loveseat, still like the work of art that she was.

Master had had a lot of fantasies fulfilled. He told Brandi as she blew him the next morning that this was different from every one. She was "a goddess, both in how she looked and how she fucked", but Master said that he would have to be in a mood for her. Most of the time when Master got a new toy, he played with her a lot.

With Valerie, he seemed to save her for special occasions. He did visit her again, apparently leaning into the "important man" part. While with the supersluts or supervillains, he would simply show up and start fucking, he would always tell Brandi in advance when he was going to go to Valerie. He would say, "Tell Valerie that I'll have time to see her on Thursday, around eight." Valerie would play with him, usually greeting him with "I'm so glad you could get away" or "I was worried that you wouldn't call". As Master leaned into his important persona, he and Valerie traded out who led their encounters. Sometimes Master would lay her on the rug, taking charge of his pace. Unlike the sluts, however, he was more delicate with Valerie—even tender. Sometimes he brought her to orgasm, although this wasn't a requirement of his when he visited her. Valerie sometimes gave him long, sensuous blowjobs. While with the sluts, these usually evolved into facefucking sessions by the end, with Valerie he let her guide and bring him around in her own time.

Master still preferred degraded whores, begging to be abused. But periodically, he was in the mood for a high class girl, and now he had her. Brandi was glad. It was her purpose to make her Master's fantasies come true.

Brandi built several more resorts for her Master. In order to speed them along, she would often purchase an existing space and order renovations. She bought a mountaintop resort that had once been a hotel. She added stripper poles, upgraded internet connections, and installed a large hot tub. The renovations were done quickly and Master spent a weekend in the mountains, appreciating the grandeur of nature while a whore knelt in worship of his cock.

Brandi also bought a beach house on the ocean, with a lovely strip of private waterfront. She added security and privacy fencing to ensure no one would enter the space, then put up a volleyball net, a full-stocked bar, and several tanning beds. Master took this retreat by himself. He enjoyed swimming in the ocean, watching his whores play volleyball, and fucking one or two at a time on the beach. Once, in the morning, he came out and saw his sluts sunbathing, topless. He survey them slowly and picked a favorite. He ordered Brandi to jerk him off onto the whore's tits. The whore rubbed it into her skin like suntan lotion. Apparently Master liked the scenario, because it happened several more times that weekend.

With so many weekend excursions, transportation became a necessity. Brandi visited a few CEO's for an influx of cash, then purchased a private airplane. The sluttiest stewardess outfits were found and Master spent most of the flights with a whore's lips wrapped around his dick. Sometimes it was Brandi's, but on vacations he seemed to prefer different girls. That was fine with Brandi, of course. His pleasure was Brandi's only priority.