MasterPC Ch. 08

"Face me."

She turned back around and stared. I'm trim and toned, and I have a decent six pack, but I didn't go overboard. I'm no muscle freak. What she was staring at was old Mr. Happy, who was fully erect and eager to have some fun. I'm no less penis-centered than the next guy, and I'd continued to tinker with myself, experimenting to see what looked the most impressive. I didn't add any more length, but I did add some girth. Imagine a beer can ten inches long, tapered at one end. That's my Johnson. My AFF profile didn't have a picture of this monster on it -- I still used the very first one I'd taken way back when in that Madison hotel room. It was impressive enough.

"I'm a different kind of body builder, Sherry. There's only one muscle I work on, and I've managed to create something pretty special, don't you think?"

"You're not seriously going to use that on me," Sherry stammered.

"You're not seriously going to use that on me, Master," I corrected. "Sherry, not only am I going to use this on you," I said, grasping my cock and shaking it at her, "but you're going to beg me to do it my little slut puppy bitch."

Sherry moaned -- fear or desire? I didn't know for certain, but probably both. I rearranged the furniture in the room to create a nice open space in the middle of the floor.

"Let's try wrestling," I said. "Perhaps you'll win and walk out of here with my money," I said in a voice that clearly said that this was not going to happen. She didn't believe it either and I could start to see defeat in her eyes. She was almost ready to surrender to me -- almost, but not quite.

I stepped to the middle of the room and assumed a wrestler's stance. She did the same.

"Whenever you're ready," I said.

She feinted a few times and then lunged at me. It was a skillful move and I could see that she'd wrestled before. Once again, however, my superior strength and speed proved decisive. She found herself on the floor, her legs in the air, her shoulders against the carpet, and my face just inches from hers. She struggled to free herself to no avail. It really wasn't fair. But I wasn't going to let that stop me. I let go of her legs for a moment and she slammed her feet on the floor, arching her back. My purpose however was served and I thrust my hand between her legs, holding her down with my body and my other arm. I was rubbing her pussy.

"Nooooooooo," she screamed.

"Yes," I hissed, sliding a finger into what had rapidly become a well lubricated channel.

Suddenly I pulled my fingers out and stood up. She lay on the floor for a moment and then twisted her body, attempting to kick my legs out from under me. I easily avoided her maneuver and followed up with one of my own, this time putting her face first onto the carpet with both arms locked behind her back. Sweat covered her rippling flesh and I had to admire the work she'd done sculpting such a magnificent set of muscles. She was truly a work of art. I was going to enjoy conquering her. Later, I'd use the MasterPC to erase the memory of her defeat. All she'd remember was meeting a nice man who gave her $500 for some private posing. I'm not a monster. In the meantime, I needed to defeat her utterly, and I wanted to do it quickly because I was really getting horny.

She struggled and I let her. She was unable to break my hold or move. I could feel her spending her strength. She wasn't using her head now. She had become frantic with fear. Not just fear of losing, but fear of me. I had discovered something when I slipped my finger into her quim -- oh Sherry was tight and though I did not detect a hymen as such, it seemed entirely possible that she'd never been penetrated by a cock. I was amazed.

A virgin? Who knew? Perhaps she was a lesbian. No matter -- she was mine.

I maintained the hold for another few seconds and then released her again. She lay there, spent for the moment. Then she got up, determined not to give in, only to be slammed back to the floor again the next moment and pinned under me. She tried wrapping her massive thighs around my middle, thinking to squeeze me into submission. All this did, however, was to bring my massive cock into contact with her pussy. The underside of my guided flesh missile rubbed up and down against the sweat covered outer folds of her pussy and across her outsized clitoris.

Her scissors lock was not having any effect on me but the rocking motion she'd initiated trying to find an advantage was having an effect on her. I was looking into her eyes and started to see desire awaken within her. I leaned in and kissed her, covering her mouth with mine. She resisted, barring her teeth at me and growling her defiance. I had her wrists pinned to the floor beneath my hands. Every move she made just caused more friction between my cock and her pussy. She moved her head from side to side trying to avoid my mouth. I kissed her cheeks, her nose, her neck, her forehead, and then I finally caught her mouth as she opened it to gasp in pleasure as my cock rubbed her clit. I felt her body go slack. Her legs released their hold, her leg muscles trembling with exertion. She accepted my kiss and my victory. She was mine.

Her whole body trembled with mixed relief and fear. She'd been beaten. She'd been defeated. She'd been dominated. All this by a man who she should have, seemingly, been able to break in half. The reason she'd still been a virgin at 25 was that no man had ever been able to break her to his will. She got her sexual jollies with other female athletes and wannabees. But she was always in charge.

Suddenly her entire world had been turned upside down.

Sherry went from accepting my kiss to returning it. Her hips pumped against me, seeking the contact that had stopped when she dropped her hold. I broke the kiss and looked into her eyes. She looked down, not meeting my gaze. That was a good sign.

"You are going to obey me absolutely for the remainder of the evening, aren't you slut puppy," I said quietly, matter-of-factly.

"Yes, Master," she immediately replied.

"You will have no further choices to make about anything that happens for the rest of the evening. I will decide what to do with you and where and when. Your will is now mine. Do you understand this slut puppy?"

"Yes, Master," she said, this time in almost a whisper.

"Good slut puppy. Let's hit the shower."

I got up and extended my hand, which she took, and I easily pulled her up from the floor. I held her hand in mine as we walked into the large bathroom. This suite was really top notch. The bath was one of those two room affairs with an outer room containing a toilet and vanity with a sink. The second room held a large whirlpool tub on a dais. It was all tile -- floor, ceiling, and walls -- with a floor drain in the middle and large shower heads against the far wall. The whole room was a shower.

I turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature to suit my preferences.

"Wash me, slave, and do a good job," I commanded.

"Yes, sir," she said, taking the soap and working up some lather in her hands. She did a great job and it felt wonderful to have her strong hands working my flesh with the slippery suds. She didn't even give into the temptation to crush my balls when she was lathering my privates. When she had thoroughly cleaned me, I rinsed myself off and then took the soap in my own hands.

"Put your arms out," I ordered.

"Yes, sir."

She put her arms out, turning herself into a tall, blond, letter 'T'. I started soaping her under the arms; I soaped each arm and started on her torso. I was gentle but firm. I wasn't washing her as much as I was caressing her, stimulating her, letting her know I thought she was beautiful and desirable as a slave. She was my prize and I was treating her as such. By washing her this way I was further establishing my ownership.

Her eyes were closed, and even under the tan I could see a flush start to form on her face flowing down across her upper chest.

"Spread your legs."

She complied without saying anything this time. She complied eagerly.

"Hands behind your head. Lock 'em," I ordered.

She stood there on display, her wet skin glistening in the harsh light of the bathroom. Her legs were apart and her pubic mound was prominent, the large inner labia protruding from the thick outer lips, and above all, a thick clitoral hood jutting out like a miniature cock -- in mockery of her gender.

My soapy hands worked their way down her washboard abs and around to the small of her back. I was standing quite close now and I could hear her breathing change every time I touched her.

I moved behind her and continued to soap her lower abs carefully avoiding her pussy. I reached down and cupped her muscular ass cheeks, gently kneading them with strong soapy hands. A low moan escaped at this point followed by a gasp as a soapy finger slipped into the crack between her ass cheeks and touched the wrinkled opening to her rectum.

I soaped my cock and slid it between those cheeks, rubbing it against her pussy lips, feeling her muscular back against my chest. Her body trembled as she felt my massive cock stroking back and forth between her legs; rubbing against her now tumescent labial folds; the mushroom shaped head just missing the opening between them on every stroke; teasing her with the possibility of violation. My hands roamed her torso tracing the muscular ridges of her rippling abdomen, cupping her breasts, teasing the nipples now hardened to points of desire. I could hear her breath hissing between her clenched teeth. She was in spite of her earlier defeats trying desperately not to respond to my touch; she was hoping to deny me this last, crushing, victory.

But I had come too far to give up now. My need to possess her suddenly overwhelmed all of my other senses -- moral and physical. I had to conquer her. I could give no quarter; leave no part of her to herself alone. I had seen the flash of desire in her earlier. I had felt her surrender her lips to my kiss and return it. I knew that before the night was through she would willingly surrender herself to me and I knew that patience was required but it was difficult with her flesh in my hands and my raging cock poised at the entrance to her delightfully tight pussy.

Taking a deep breath, I slid my cock out from between her legs and directed the shower spray so that we were both rinsed off. She hadn't moved her arms from the last position I'd ordered her into.

"Lower your arms, slut puppy," I said. She complied at once.

I grabbed a towel and began drying her off. When she was dry, I gave her a towel and without a word, she did the same for me. I watched her carefully for any signs that she might be considering some sort of rebellion -- one that would involve her crushing my nads in her powerful grip. Nothing happened. She patted me dry and then stood back, towel in hand, and waited for her next instructions. Frankly I was amazed at the level of her docility. Was she trying to lull me into a false sense of security?

"Tell me how you feel, Sherry," I said, using her name instead of calling her 'slut puppy' or 'slave' or any other similar title.

"Confused, sir."

"Confused. Anything else?"

"Horny," she whispered, her humiliation written in huge letters for anyone with an ounce of non verbal training to see.

"You want this," I said, pointing to my cock.

She looked at her feet. She said nothing.

"Look at me, Sherry," I said. She lifted her head and looked at me.

"You want my cock don't you, Sherry?"

She looked down again and I barely heard her response, "yes sir."

"I didn't catch that. What is it you want? Say it out loud and look at me when you do, Sherry."

"I want your cock, sir," she spat the last word like an obscenity. I had forced her to admit something she would have considered vile a few hours ago -- the idea that she would want a man's cock had been repugnant to her. And, now, it wasn't so much that she wanted my cock, but that I had beaten her in contests that she had routinely won against other men. I had done things to her that no one had ever done. Yes, she was confused. She was humiliated by losing and humiliated again by the fact that I had awakened desires in her that she had never before experienced.

"Where do you want it, Sherry?"

I saw a tear form at the corner of her left eye. This was costing her something. I was going to need to reward her in some way for what I was doing. Fortunately, I had that power as well.

"Sherry. You must answer me. You've come this far. Finish it. Tell me what you want."

"I want that," she said, pointing at my cock still saluting this muscular beauty, "in my pussy." She looked at me, that tear which had been at the corner of her eye now slipping down across her left cheek.

With that, I took her in my arms and kissed her. I kissed her long and deeply. I put everything I had into that kiss. It was a kiss that meant I had won the battle but was prepared to be magnanimous in victory. It was meant to soothe and reassure her and also to continue to assert my dominance and control. But her tears did have an effect. They distracted me.

Women's tears do that to me. It never fails. And that's why I was totally unprepared for the knee that connected with my groin. My whole world exploded and then imploded almost simultaneously. Pain, like white hot magma, exploded across my nervous system. I bent over, making my neck a perfect target for an elbow which was delivered with all the mercy of a guillotine. That blow, delivered with all the force of a steam driven pile driver, should have killed me. Instead, it just pissed me off. I was on my face, my cheek pressed against the cool tile of the bathroom floor, my breath coming in gasps as my nervous system tried to recover from the tsunami of pain that had overwhelmed it.

Sherry, thinking she'd finished me, had walked out of the bathroom and was hurrying to get her clothes back on and make her escape. When she looked up from tying her shoes, her expression went from triumph to complete shock. I was standing between her and the door, apparently unharmed by two blows that would have put anyone else in the hospital. I sent a mental prayer of thanks to whoever had invented the MasterPC software. They'd done a great job. Of course without that software I would never have gotten myself into this situation in the first place.

"Sherry, Sherry, Sherry -- I thought we'd gotten past all this man-hating rage. I was about to give you the most exquisite night of pleasure you'd ever experienced. I can see you're not ready for pleasure yet. You still haven't learned who is in charge here, have you.

Super speed has some real advantages. While Sherry had been putting on her clothing, I had gotten up, retrieved my iPhone, called up MasterPC, and had taken away, for the next few minutes, Sherry's ability to speak in anything more than a feeble whisper -- she could not scream.

"Don't...don't...don't," she started, then cleared her throat, or tried to.

"Don't come near you or you'll scream? Is that what you were about to say slut puppy?"

Fear dominated her features now. All of her toughness was based on being able to outmuscle her opponents. This time muscles had failed her. Tears had almost gotten her out of this jam. Now, she faced a pissed off enemy who had proven to be more than a match for her physically. And, she was shocked to realize, she was still horny. She really DID want my cock. It was written all over her. Or at least that's the way I read the play of expressions and body language that ran through her from head to toe in the few seconds it took for my words to sink in.

"You can't scream, Sherry. I'm afraid I can't allow that."

She tried to though, I'll give her that. Her mouth opened and sound came out, but you'd have had to be in the same room to hear it.

"To paraphrase an old sci-fi movie, Sherry, in this suite, no one can hear you scream."

She launched herself at me, fingers extended like claws. She was fighting for her life and was determined to go down still fighting. I blocked her attack and punched her in the solar plexus hard enough to stun her. She struggled to draw breath. She still managed to throw a punch. I blocked it easily. I grabbed her by the hair and frog marched her into the bedroom of the suite. Then I picked her up, yes right off the floor, and tossed her on the bed. She lay there, stunned; trying to breathe.

I'm not a violent man. In fact, I abhor violence. I don't approve of war. Wars are mostly started by men who've never fought in one or never faced death. Too many innocent people get killed in wars, and too few leaders. My view is that if we are to go to war then the children and grand children of the people who run the government and of those who profit from conflict should be in the front lines. That might mean fewer wars. But, I digress. As I said, I'm not a violent man. I did not like being physical with Sherry. It went against my grain. Oh when we'd been competing, that was one thing, but this, this I found distasteful.

"Sherry, why do you continue to behave this way? You've already admitted that you want my cock in your pussy. And, yet, you tried to do me harm. Have I harmed you in any way tonight? Be fair. Have I?"

She was silent; curled in a ball on the bed. I was still naked, my cock was hard. She did not resist as I stripped her. When she was naked, I stood back and just looked at her. She was a beautiful specimen of a specific type of woman. Amazons are often worshiped by lesser men. They crave the dominance of a strong woman. They want to be physically overpowered by a 'goddess.' In my case, I wanted to overpower this goddess and make her submit to my will. I get like that sometimes -- I have a streak of pure bastard in me that occasionally escapes my usually Midwestern-nice persona. This was one of those times when my 'evil twin Skippy' had slipped the leash. Sigh.

I sat next to Sherry on the bed. I began to caress her skin, tracing the ridges and valleys of her chiseled features. She'd done a wonderful job of sculpting herself into something that many would call grotesque. I had some admiration for the effort that went into body building. In that context, Sherry was a beautiful woman.

I got up from the bed and went to my bag. I retrieved a bottle of massage oil and began rolling it between my palms, warming it somewhat.

"Lay on your belly, crossways on the bed, Sherry," I said in as pleasant a voice as I could.

She complied. Her head was toward me. I poured some of the oil on my hands and rubbed them together warming it further. I began to massage Sherry, beginning with the massive muscles of her shoulders and working my way down. She moaned, enjoying the feeling of my strong hands working her muscles. She had expected a beating and instead she was getting pleasure. She accepted it, but it confused her.

When I had worked my way down to her buttocks I put more oil into my hands and dribbled some right into the crack between the perfectly sculpted mounds of her gluteus maxima. Her whole body shivered like a horse getting rid of flies. I dug my fingers into the muscles of her ass and went to work. I worked those fingers into the crevice at her center. She spread her legs. I smiled. I worked her muscles but did not touch her cookie. Eventually, I worked my way down the backs of her massive thighs, behind her knees, her calves, and finally, her feet. I spent some quality time with her feet. She was moaning and gasping almost constantly now and I could see her sex dew collecting on the petals of her flower.

"Roll over."

I began at her feet this time and massaged my way back up those magnificently muscled legs. Now I was looking into her eyes as I worked my magic on her flesh. Her eyes were closed. Her lips were slightly parted, as were her legs. I massaged her left thigh all the way to the top and let the back of my hand just barely graze the turgid flesh of her pussy lips. She gasped and her hips bucked up off the bed seeking to prolong the contact. I wasn't done teasing yet and I switched to her right leg giving an expert massage to this appendage as well. In another minute she would beg me to fuck her brains out. I knew it and so did she. And, yet, she resisted. I admired her for her resolve; not that it would do her any good. She was overmatched in ways she couldn't conceive of -- yet.