My Master Ch. 6bySkyler Marie©
Should I run? If I did would he hunt me down? Did I want to live the rest of my life in fear of him finding me? My heart continued to pound as my mind raced through tons of questions and what ifs. I was indeed scared to go back but I was more afraid to run.
I reluctantly started the truck and pulled out of the parking lot. I realized that for the first time in three days I was hungry, actually famished. I pulled into the nearest fast food place. I decided that I would eat as I drove. After all I didn't want to take a super long time, that would only enrage my master more. I ordered and drove around to the window.
The cashier looked at me for what seemed to be forever, It was like she was drawing a mental picture of me. I tried to smile but I couldn't make one. My head was pounding, when she leaned over and handed my meal.
"You know I would leave the bastard if he marked me up like that." I thanked her and told her to have a good day. Driving down the road as I ate, I started to feel a little better. I guess I needed food in my gut more than I had thought. As I neared my turn, my now full stomach started to churn and flop. I could feel my sore muscles tense as I turned. I knew deep down that my fear would always win out to him.
I pulled the truck back under the tree and climbed out. I sighed as I walked to the front door. I slowly opened the door and stepped inside. WHACK!!! I was hit to the floor. My packages lay scattered across the floor. My shoulder thumped like a bad toothache from where he hit me
"You bitch, What the fuck took you so long"
"I wanted....." WACK!!! He hit me across the face. I was in pain, my body as well as my pride was shattered. He grabbed me by my hair, yanking me to me feet. He pointed toward the packages laying on the floor.
"Pick this shit up and get dressed bitch" I picked up all the stuff and walked my armload to the bathroom. I quickly shut the door behind me. I looked at myself in the mirror again and watched my salty endless tears stream down my face. I dressed very slowly not wanting to face him again. I knew I should hurry so that I wouldn't piss him off again with my time wasting. But the speed at which I dressed seemed to be the only speed my body would allow. Then I heard him walking outside the door. He seemed to be pacing. God I was pissing him off again. I finished dressing quickly and told him as soon as I finished putting my makeup on the I would be out. I asked him to pour me a drink and wait for me in the living room. He agreed. I heard him walking away.
I again covered my bruises with my foundation and applied lipstick and mascara. I looked like shit but maybe he wouldn't notice as much as I did. I slowly opened the door. I shook uncontrollably for almost 5 minutes before I was able to regain my composure. I walked into the living room. His eyes seemed to undress me as I walked. I was modeling for him and I actually liked it. He stood up and held me close. I could tell from his bulge that he too was enjoy my little show. He grabbed me hard around the waist and pulled my into his growing groin. I was once again putty in his hands.
His strong arms grasp me tight and his breath felt hot against my skin. I pushed him back down onto the couch. He glared at me, but stopped when he realized I was going to strip for him. I started to slowly removed the jacket, letting my big tits shine through the holes in my outfit. His eyes widened as I moved. He licked his lips hard as I gently tweaked my own nipples. He quickly stood grasping me and throwing me to the couch. Being shocked I didn't move. I just lay there watching him, Fear once again rose deep within me. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead as he pulled a blade from his rear pocket. My body was out of my control once again. I shook and tried to speak but nothing came from between my lips.
He ran the sharp blade along my breast. I heard fabric rip as he cut it away from my body. My blood ran cold as he worked his way down, cutting my skirt along the side. My pussy tingled as he ran the cold steel along my pantied slit. RIIIPPPP!!!! my panties were off in a flash. I lay beneath him, in only my shoes and thigh high stockings. My heated skin shuttered from the cold hard steel. His eyes once again were a bitter gray. He slid his hard cock from the prison that held it tightly.. Running it along my swollen pussy lips as he ran the steel blade along my tits.
I let out a blood curdling scream as the sharp blade pierced my skin. He had cut me.. I felt my skin warm beneath my own blood. Tears fell hard and fast. He smiled and licked my fresh blood from the blade.
" My little whore deserves to bleed. You will learn to obey and follow simple instructions" I was confused, I didn't know what the hell he was talking about. I had done what he wanted. I lay there trying to think of what I had done wrong. What could have I done to piss him off to the point he needed to cut me. More blood dripped from the gash in my chest. He face seemed to glow with pleasure as he licked my red life juice from me. My anger began to build once again as he licked his lips clean. He was licking my blood from his lips. He was enjoying it. That fucker enjoyed making me bleed.
He helped me up from the couch and walked me to the bathroom. He sat me down hard onto the edge of the tub and told me not to move. Blood still dripping from the cut made by his hands. I no longer loved this man, he had hurt me in a way that was unforgivable. He walked back into the bathroom and started running the water into the sink. He seemed genuinely concerned with me and my gash. I wanted to puke. He slowly cleaned the wound out and examined it.
"Hell, you bleed alot from a little cut like that." He chuckled. It didn't feel like a little cut, I felt as if he had cut off my whole tit. He looked deep into my eyes and chuckled at my fear. God I really started to hate him. I knew I wouldn't live like this. I would not allow him to disgrace my body any longer. He would have to pay for the things he had done to me. He needed to feel the same humiliating things I had, he needed to be beat and treated like a cheap whore. He needed to feel what I was feeling. I needed a plan and I needed one quick. I had to get out of this situation. I needed to be in control my life once again. I needed out. Free from him and all his fucked up ways. I didn't deserve this shit and I was not going to stand for it any longer. I knew I had to be quick but I had to play it smart as well. He was no dummy and he wouldn't fall for some silly teenage game. I had to think hard-core. I had to think like him. I didn't know if I could think like that but I was sure gonna try.
He covered my cut with a small bandage and left, walking out of the room and out the front door. I let out a sigh of relief as I heard him drive away.