Lusting for His Masterpiece

He was due home in less than a half-hour. She rushed around, straightening the corners of His books, dusting edges of wooden tables, making certain there was nothing out of place. She had dutifully completed her daily chores – disobedience resulted in discipline: her bottom still bore pink welts left by her last flogging, just yesterday.

His was a fine leather flogger, handcrafted of beautiful black elk. Its eight inch blue, gray & black diamond braided handle was custom fit for His hand; thirty, lush suede leather tails, each twenty inches long and ½" wide, delivered an effective thud and a light sting to her tender bare flesh. She was given these lashings only on rare occasion, but when applied, she was not only compelled to beg for His mercy – she vehemently pleaded for Him to tame her – to use her as He so desired, for His own pleasure.

It had been such an occasion that He caught her, admiring His Masterpiece. It would have been one thing had she been merely caressing the fine bronze pièce de résistance with her brilliant sapphire irises. No, she was appreciating His magnificent sculpted Tower much more intimately.

Actually, she had meticulously molded the original casting for the exquisite Sculpture – she knew every minute detail, had traced the finest lines with her fingernails. Its breadth so broad, her fingers still could not touch even when completely stretched, the beautiful Replica of His hard dick and massive balls stood proudly on His desk.

She was sitting on the floor when He walked in the door yesterday, holding His Masterpiece in both of her little slut hands, fingering its swollen veins. He stood watching from the doorway because she obviously was in a trance: she sat Indian style, wearing only pink satin bikini panties, worshipping His bronzed penis in all its powerful, expressive glory. She had placed the huge erection in front of her and was massaging the large, oval, textured balls that was its base as if she were squeezing His own testicles. Observing His wild, insolate slut did, in fact, cause His balls to ache. He reached down with one hand to grab them hard for momentary relief.

She leaned forward, so that her breasts fell either side of the cold metal Tower. He heard her gasp as she pressed them together, holding His Masterpiece between her generous orbs of flesh – then proceeded to pull her nipples taut around its thickness, holding them tight with one hand. Even from where He stood, He could see that she was aroused – her nipples erect, she was now gliding up and down the smooth bronze shaft. She was bent over like this, the massive Tower poised between her thighs, in a hypnotic daze – was she fucking His Masterpiece?

Stepping closer, He watched her wet, greedy mouth close over the sleek crest of His Masterpiece – His handsome velvet knob so delicately reproduced – her sweet whore lips stretched wide, slipping into the deep ridge.

That was when He realized where her other hand was... buried inside her folds of pink, red and purple labia – her exposed clit pulsing like a tiny hard cock, begging to be stroked again and again. She was frantically pulling and reaching inside the dripping female cave... then it happened.

She lifted her mouth from His Masterpiece, leaving the bronze peak wet with her wanton lust, and raised up on her haunches, gracefully positioning the majestic Tower between her thighs. She lowered her body down onto It, slowly, savoring the great size – its massive thickness and weight. Gliding smoothly, artfully, like an obsessed dancing whore. Until it was buried in her belly – rocking back and forth, eyes closed, she chanted seductively, "Masterpiece, my Master's piece, please fuck Your whore hard and deep..."

The performance was stirring Him in all the right places.

"delphi!" He thundered suddenly. He was going to use her right then and there, spread His sperm all over her beautiful lustful face. She jumped, startled at His booming voice, and tumbled off the Tower, sprawling across the floor. She struggled to get up on her knees, face flushed, long hair tossled haphazardly about her shoulders. It took only a minute before she was composed, though - on the outside. He was amused at her attempts to conceal her fiery passion - at getting caught in her theatrical exhibition of sexual fulfillment and adoration of His Masterpiece.

He was well aware of her flame of devotion - spirited vixen never failed to indulge Him with her many multisensory talents.

He commanded that she wash His Masterpiece thoroughly with her hungry little tongue, shine it with her fleshy breasts, and replace it on His desk. She trembled as she did the task, knowing this was only for His delicious pleasure, not her discipline – there would be the flogging later, across the table.

But first things, first. "Kneel before Me, delphi." This was her pleasure, to serve Him. He slapped her waiting face with His heavy dick, balls full to bursting.

"Please, Master, jack-off on my face," she begged, staring at His throbbing, vein-engorged erection. "Please, please, use me to squirt Your load of thick sperm all over my eyes, nose, and mouth – spread it all over me. I am Your whore, Master. I am Your fucktoy, to use as You wish. I'll do whatever You want, Master. Please use me..."

Yes, Sir. I am Your insatiable slut... I love to be taken by You – every way possible. So, use me. The pleasure is, wickedly... all mine.

copyright 2006 Scheherazade