Making Master Z's Whore

"Let's see how many different ways you can say Sir Samantha." She shivers at the change in His tone where before it was threatening now it is musing "I wonder how long it will take you to say it when you're pleading me to let you cum." He squeezes a little tighter "I think we should we find out"

Ohhh no she doesn't like the sound of that, not at all. She wonders what she looks like briefly as she tries to follow His hand down her breast to her stomach, she can feel the almost dry blood that has crusted from His carving up of her flesh, just another reason to hate, as His hand continues its journey south.

He spreads her lips with His fingers checking her wetness; He is pleased beyond belief when He feels how her juice has leaked from her to spread between her thighs. He scoops some onto a finger and draws his arm up slowly so she can see the cream staining His finger; He wipes it across her lips insulting her further with His bittersweet knowledge and His gleaming triumphant eyes...

He chuckles at the defiance still glaring daggers into him. He lets the remaining juice wipe from His finger as He drags it down a puckered nipple.

When He reaches her core He shoves two fingers straight into her and she gasps at the tight fit of those thick fingers inside her. Deeper He plunges His fingers into her. Searching seeking how high up inside her he can reach. His pace is not slow as He pushes in and out, nor is it gentle and for that she is grateful, she doesn't want a kindness from this man, she wants to nurture her hatred and bring it to life with every indignity He will put her through. Her legs start to weaken as He pushes in and out with faster speed, never in her life has she felt anyone finger her with as much power and building of tension as what she feels now.

Faster He goes still, the faster His fingers work inside her the more her legs begin to buckle until her back starts to slide down the wall and she can no longer stop the moaning pleasure from releasing and spewing forth from her labouring lungs and stretching core.

He lets her body slip down the wall as her legs buckle and glories that she is squatting before Him with her thighs spread wantonly and her body automatically bearing down in rhythmic motion with his hand.

"Do you want it Sam? Do you want to cum?"

Her eyes a dangerous fire burn Him to the core as He taunts and fucks into her harder and faster then before. She is gulping in as much air as the pressure from His hand on her neck will allow, her hips buck into Him as sweat breaks out on her brow.

"Say it Samantha. Show me how much you want it"

She refuses to say a word, but the mellowing coming from her mouth, the tears and desire welling in her eyes show Him how much control she is exserting in this act of defiance. He withdraws his fingers from her quickly, her head moves in the negative. He turns His hand side on and smacks her cunt as hard as He feels necessary. Quickly five times then thrusts three fingers deep into her. Her head bangs into the wall of its own accord, her hips push Him almost to falling over. With the same harsh relentless pace He keeps at her.

"Do you have anything you wish to say Samantha"?

She ignores Him again, and not for the first time is He impressed with her fortitude, unfortunately for her He knows He will break her. With four fingers inside her now, and with her muscles opening to Him wider. He twists his hand and feels her losing control, He is about to pull out of her and leave her on the floor when she cries out on a keening whimper.

"Sirrrrrrrr"

With more desperation and need then He has ever witnessed before, she screams it at Him hurls it out, abusively, indignantly. The word echoes around the entranceway and reverberates around the room. He stills his hand in her and feels the little twitches inside her that she cannot control, the ones that wrack her body with fine hair like quivers that she has no shame now in showing him. He knows one more harsh thrust and she would of cum, timing with this wench is apparently and will be everything.

He lets her body calm with soothing, little movements of His fingers inside her. He watches her face, such a revealing face, He thinks; she doesn't hide a thought from Him. Her confusion knots her brow as she watches Him intently the pleading still clearly seen. His hand releases her throat and with her breathing still erratic but calmer now it blows a tuff of hair on His forehead, a single erotic shudder runs through His body at the image of sleeping with this woman, of taking her to His bed and loving her.

That will have to wait until she is really ready, ready to prove that she wants Him. He slips His fingers easily from her stretched milked core, and watches the shock and something more enter her lovely eyes, hurt; He sees hurt and betrayal, with satisfaction He lays down the law to her.

"You ignored me, you defied me, when all I wanted was to hear you say Sir, for that you will not cum" He holds his palm over her mound and puts pressure on her aching wanting cunt as He speaks the words to her.

It takes a moment for the words to register in her brain, the moment of comprehension dawns in her eyes. She opens her mouth to lash Him with her curt tongue. He silences her with a soft petal light kiss on the lips. While He whispers in that soft way that has her listening carefully, intently and sympathetically to every word He mummers.

"You can not beat me Sam, you will not look at me like that and change my mind," He brushes a stray hair from her face and tucks it gently behind her ear in such a caring loving manner that her heart unwillingly aches for more kindness from Him "your instant obedience will be rewarded."

He brushes her brow with His lips and takes a step back and watches her as she leans against the wall, her head back resting there; her eyes closed in resignation or exhaustion He's not to sure. Her sweet nectar drips literally from her body onto the floor. Her hair a wet mess stuck down to her head, a lively rose hue in her cheeks, her black stockings the only clothing marring her skin. Her arms tied behind her back and the dried up blood of His mark upon her creamy flesh. His gaze wanders the rest of her body and notices the bruises to her normally creamy white flesh. She has handled it all well considering, what He has put her through, hoping but never expecting the responses she has granted Him. He feels His own wetness dripping inside His pants and knows He has never been harder in all His life. Yes, yes, He considers, she is the one.

He wonders if He will ever see her looking more the picture of submission and decides to up the level of His control over her. He looks down at her, his eyes lingering on the Z carved into her breast, way more beautiful then He ever imagined, with one more lingering glance He turns away leaving her squatting on the floor of His entrance way.

She feels Him turn from her and opens her betraying eyes and watches Him walk away from her. The tears silently drip down her face, she is exhausted unsatisfied and unable to finish the job off her self, her knees finally weaken and she slumps onto them harshly amplifying her hurt her head bows low, her forehead resting on the floor.

It's all too much; the fear the pain, the shock, the unfulfilled way in which her body is begging her to call out to Him, to say Sir, just so the ache inside her can go away. Her tears silent no longer wrack her body as she begins to shake with self-pity and spasms of uncontrolled misery.

The shaking gets stronger, the tears run faster, the sound of her grief fill her ears and her heart with a need she can no longer ignore; even if she escapes Him now, she knows it will be a long time before she will, if ever find a need for a man like the need she now has to feel Him inside her.

He pauses half way up the stairs to the second floor and looks down on her. His Samantha, yes He thinks to himself as He smiles, she can look more submissive. She looks up at Him from her bowed position and the breath traps in His chest causing an ache like no other, He sees the surrender and the need for Him in her eyes, He's not dumb enough to believe she will come willingly to Him just yet, but at least there is hope.

"Lance?" He calls and His ever-faithful servant enters through a door at the base of the stairs.

"Master can I serve you?"

"Take her to her room and secure her for the night" with the curt order issued He climbs the rest of the stairs to His cold and lonely room. Exhausted Himself, He lay's on His bed and revises His plans for the next day. Smiling; He drifts to sleep to dream of the days to come with His lovely pleasing Samantha.

*****

She shifts her attention to Lance and watches him walk towards her, one look at him and she knows it is useless to even ask for his help, for some reason this man willing carries out the wishes of his Master she thinks with disgust. Her eyes shift back to the stair way as she watches a taut arse climb wearily up the rest of the stairs.

"Did you see" she screams in her mind, "did you see my need, you bastard, don't think I don't hate you because I want to fuck you." She sincerely hopes that He can feel her loathing boring into Him with each step He takes, she hopes He chokes on His very breath in the night, she hopes to god in the same breath He wakens alive and well so she can hate Him all the more for it.

With that thought free of her conscience she accepts the help form Lance to standing, with as much dignity as she can muster she raises her head and proudly stares him down while looking up at him. He gives her a smile of pure mischief.

"This way Miss Samantha, its time for some rest, I believe you will need it."