Elle Ch. 02

He shoved the back of her head till her face was mere inches from the picture. She felt ashamed, like a bad dog that had just had an accident on the carpet and now its Master was pushing its nose into it.

"Please no. I can't," she pleaded.

"Look at it!" he boomed. His patience was running thin. He would not put up with her bullheaded behavior much longer.

"Yes, Master." She wearily gave in.

The picture was so close that it took a moment for her eyes to focus on the glossy image before her. She exhaled the breath she had been holding in, casting a patch of condensation over the picture. As it dissolved, a lump formed in her throat.

"You asshole, you fucking asshole! How could you make me look at this? I fucking hate you," she thought, her head spinning.

The photo was a black and white profile of a naked woman with hair down to her ass and a body so tight it resembled that of a professional dancer. Her hands were tied behind her back with what appeared to be a necktie. Her mouth was open, her eyes closed, and her head was tilted so far back it looked unnatural. She stood with one long leg propped up on an ottoman. Elle recognized the ottoman.

The first time He had invited Elle to His place she had sat, nervously picking lint off of that very ottoman while He prepared her a glass of wine. The second time she became personally familiar with that ottoman was when He had bent her over it and fucked her for the first time. Her elbows had burned the entire evening from the ugly flower print polyester chafing her skin. She had always feared she was not the first woman He had fucked on that stupid piece of furniture that Elle always thought was such a waste of space. Not that she really expected she was the only one, just hoped.

That hope was all but diminished when she saw in between the woman's legs HER Master on His knees. He too was naked and flawless. His hands were placed directly on the curve of the woman's ass. His biceps were flexed. The muscles in His arms were not done justice by the photos lack of color and shading, but nonetheless they looked strong and chiseled. His cock stood straight up as if it were enviously reaching for the pussy that His mouth had already claimed.

Elle felt like she could be sick. Jealousy erupted within her like hot lava. The image was so enticing. Elle would have given her life to be that woman. It was obvious she was a former slave of His. But for Him to be on His knees like that for her, rather then vice versa, seemed contrary to the typical role of Master and slave. She wondered if this was the woman He had once told her took it in the ass seven times in a row. Was this His way of expressing His gratitude? She knew how much He liked anal, but was she THAT good that He would temporarily forfeit His title as Master and kneel before her? The idea that this woman had that much sexual power vexed Elle.

She wanted to please him more then any other slave ever had, especially this bitch. But Elle knew she lacked experience and wasn't sure she would ever be able to live up to His high standards. This woman oozed sex and confidence out of every pore. He must have loved her. And that thought drove Elle to the edge.

"Her name is Annalisa." He stared at the picture for a few seconds, deep in thought.

"Do you want to watch me fuck her?" He continued nonchalantly.

The words stuck in the thick air between them like an insect trapped in a spider web.

He could not be serious.

She sat up with a fire in her eyes that He had never seen before.

"Fuck you!"

The words came out so hastily that she did not even have time to think about the potential consequences for speaking them before she hit the floor.

Taken aback by His willingness to hit a woman across the face, Elle lay at his feet, mouth hung open, completely stunned. A man had never struck her like that before. Wasn't there some kind of rule against that?

In His world there were no rules when it came to three things: pain, pleasure, and discipline. He was the Master and she had infuriated Him with her shameless retort. She needed to be punished. He did not pity her, not in the least, as He watched her cringe at the touch of her own hand against her bruised cheek. He stood ominously over her pathetic, coiled body and watched her tremble like a leaf shaking in the violent wind's clutch.

The left side of her face throbbed and felt hot to the touch. The soft skin below the corner of her lower lip was numb. Her tongue searched the area for any feeling, or even blood. She felt dizzy, but in a giddy way, like a child spinning carelessly on a tilt-a-whirl.

Once the obnoxious ringing had subsided in her left ear she reluctantly glared up at her Master. A distorted shadow, reminding her of a Rorschach inkblot, enveloped His face. Its darkness masked his features well, but Elle was sure she could distinguish a series of pearls perfectly aligned across His face. Was He actually smiling? Her fury returned at the notion that she was simply there for His amusement.

Suddenly a draft whisked through the room, carrying the shadow with it, revealing a face far more beautiful then any word was worthy of describing. His eyes were soft and reassuring. All of her fury vanished and she melted. She finally understood.

The heat she felt in her face suddenly leaked down from her cheek, through her torso, and into the depths of her pelvis like sand through an hourglass. She felt moisture between her bare thighs, humid and sticky.

It was not the only the pain from His strike that turned her on; it was also the meaning behind the pain. He had reprimanded her in the most socially unacceptable way, but now looking deeply into His trustworthy eyes she understood why He had done it.

He wanted her to be His so much He was willing to discipline her in the most demeaning way possible in order to mold her into His perfect slave. The fact that He had to lay a hand on her in such a way reassured her that He would do whatever needed to be done to discipline, perfect and ultimately own her. This realization gave birth to a whole new devotion to Him.

Her lower abdomen felt heavy, weighted down from the excruciating need for Him to fuck her. She wondered... how much longer would He make her wait?

"Elle, I am going to ask you again. Do -you -want -to -watch -me -fuck -her?"

She returned to her knees and looked Him dead in the eye.

"Yes, Master." Her voice was steady and she was surprisingly self-assured.

"Good pet." He stroked the back of her head. "Annalisa will be here tomorrow. I expect you to treat her with utmost respect and honor."

He walked over to the buffet to fix Himself a drink; Scotch Whiskey aged over 15 years. She watched Him tip his head back and down the majority of the caramel liquid.

Elle's mouth felt like cotton. She highly doubted He would waste His single malt scotch on her. And she was secretly grateful for that - she was not a fan of its smoky flavor - but she hoped He would fill a glass for her with water from the tap. She was aware that a proper slave never asks a Master for anything. She must be willing to wither away from dehydration for Him if this is what He wants. And she was willing to do anything for Him, so she remained silent and thirsty.

He turned around to face her, replacing the glass on the buffet.

"Would you like something to drink?" He asked.

"Yes Master." Elle said coyly, licking her lips.

He unzipped His pants and walked to her.

"Take me in your mouth." His voice was deep and demanding. "All of me."

"I...Uh..." Elle began, her mouth hung open in bewilderment.

He pulled His cock out of His trousers and shoved it into her parted lips. He admirably watched as the gift He gave her slowly vanished into the welcoming cave of her mouth. God, He was so generous to her. She should feel lucky to be at the mercy of Him.

Trying to show her gratitude towards him, Elle attempted to encase His entire beloved gift into her mouth. Unsuccessfully, she gagged. He was well endowed with a long and thick cock. She worried her gag reflex would cause her to vomit.

She needed to concentrate. Steadily breathing through her nose she forced her throat to relax open and accept every bit of what He was offering her. Success. With as much suction as her lungs and jaw can withstand, she devoured Him. Taking Him in and out, in and then out again. Only stopping ever so often to allow her tongue to explore the contours of His balls.

She fucked Him this way until her jaw started to cramp. At that point she pulled away and looked up at Him. Her eyes were dark and seeking his approval. A saliva/pre-cum mixture bridged her luscious lips to His even more luscious cock. She looked so perfect to Him, on her knees, feasting on Him.

He wanted to get off and could wait no longer. He grabbed the back of her head and forcefully jammed Himself back into her mouth. Elle wasn't prepared for this and by pure accident her teeth slightly grazed the head of his cock.

Holding her head steady, He pumped His hips vigorously back and forth. He stabbed the back of her throat in steady beats as she involuntarily swallowed Him deeper then she ever imagined possible. She gagged and spat and tried to contend with His grip on the back of her skull, but to no avail.

She could feel him harden another degree against her inner cheek. She sensed He was about to cum. She knew what He would want her to do. Desperate to please Him, and even more desperate to taste Him, she opened her mouth wide for Him as He pulled out. Cock in hand, He rapidly pumped while aiming at her impatient mouth. With an archer's accuracy, His first ejection hit His target dead on. She gurgled. He grunted. The second and third spasms sent a series of arrows sailing through the air, landing in her hair and on her chin. Missing His target entirely, a glob of cum stuck to the wall behind her head, and another fell short and clung to the tip of her breast.

None of it would go to waste. With His fingers He scooped His cum off her chin and painted her mouth with it. She licked His fingers and her own glossy lips clean. He cupped her full tit in His hand and raised it to her mouth. He watched His slave indulge herself on His appetizing fluids with an eager tongue, even licking His cum off of the wall.

She ran her fingers through her hair until the tips got caught in a sticky tangle of strands. She brought a section of cum laced hair to her mouth and desperately sucked on it, but found herself dissatisfied when a hint of her perfumed shampoo melded with His saltiness. She wanted to taste only His savory flavor, nothing else.

Her lips puckered into a pout when there was no more. Like a good slave, she had polished off every last drop.

She looked up at Him lovingly.

"Thank you Master."