Serving Master with a Smile

My eyes fell on his face as I stepped through the door. He didn't seem that menacing and yet I knew what he was capable of.

"Hey," he said casually. "How was your drive?"

"Uh, it wasn't too bad," I said softly. I was too full of anticipation to make small talk. He'd told me when I said I was on my way over that he wanted me to come in his house and get on my knees. I wondered if I'd be punished for not following that order.

For a moment we were silent and he looked into my eyes. Then, very slowly and deliberately, he reached out and grabbed my neck. Squeezing tightly, he pushed me backwards until the back of my head hit the wall. I whimpered, just the slightest bit.

He brought his face towards mine and kissed me, hard. He invaded my mouth with his tongue, still holding me against the wall by my neck. For a moment we stayed like that, with me trapped between the wall and the rough grip of his hand, trying my best to fight back with my own tongue but knowing I was outmatched. Then slowly, he pulled away.

Gently, he removed his hand from my neck and trailed his hand upwards into my hair. Then with a quick and unexpected forcefulness he tangled his fingers into my hair at the top of my skull and yanked me down and began dragging me towards the living room.

Obediently, I trailed behind him by my hair. We had barely made it into the living room when I was shoved backwards again, this time so I stumbled backwards and my ass hit the couch cushion. With a ragged breath that I can only describe as a snarl, he roughly yanked his pants off with the hand that wasn't still brandishing a tangle of my hair and then jerked my head towards his already hard cock, expectantly.

I was happy to oblige. I licked my lips quickly and swallowed the hard cock in front of me whole. I felt completely right with that cock between my lips, and as he began to pull my head up and down by my hair, I would've smiled if I hadn't been choking on dick.

He clearly had no intentions of playing gently tonight. He was forcing my head on and off of his cock like I was nothing more than a sex doll, which I supposed at that point, I wasn't.

He reached into my shirt and I felt a hand roughly grabbing at my nipples. First, he'd go for one, then the other, pinching each one gradually a little harder and harder until I cried out. He'd release them, and as I bobbed up and down on his cock he would suddenly pinch them both agonizingly hard just to hear me scream around the dick in my mouth.

"Open up." Sucking in a deep breath where I could around the appendage down my throat, I obliged and opened my mouth a little further. He slammed my face down hard, so that the head of his cock was tickling the back of my throat and I was kissing his pubic bone. He held me there, and I was grateful I'd been wise enough to get some air when I had.

The seconds ticked by as the air in my lungs began to feel more and more stale, and because of the position of his cock in my throat, I was unable to breathe in through my nose even if I tried. I reached out and began pushing on his thighs, hoping he'd let up, even if just an inch, so I could draw in a breath. All I got was a growled "no" in response and I tried not to panic, as the instinctual response to running out of air would've been.

Right when I began to seriously worry I might pass out, he yanked me back off, allowing even the head of his cock to leave my lips, and I sucked in air. I had only a brief moment of calm before his hand was connecting with my cheek with a loud smack.

"Learn to take my cock down your throat, you stupid bitch," he told me disdainfully.

"Yes sir," I whimpered, still savoring the sting and feeling my panties flood.

"That's a good girl," he said, almost more to egg himself on than as praise to me, as his hands began to tangle in my hair again. He separated the long strands into two pigtails, one in each hand, and began to use them as handles to yank me back and forth, on and off his cock.

"Every good whore has handles," he told me quietly, above the sound of my trying not to gag. "Do you like sucking your master's cock?"

I tried to muster out a "mmhmm" but I only managed a bit of a buzzing sound around the choking.

"What was that? Do you like sucking your master's cock?"

I tried again, only to be met with the same pathetic failure.

"Answer me." He pulled me off roughly.

"Yes." I gasped for air. "Yes, I love sucking master's cock," I told him, looking up into his eyes.

"Hmm. That's good." He looked down at me with apparent disdain again. With just as much sudden force as he'd used while yanking me by the hair the first time, he pulled my head and with it, my entire body, up off the couch. He pushed me down and shoved my face down into a big beanbag chair that was sitting on the ground. Forcing my ass in the air, he ripped my pants and panties down in one swift motion.

I felt the pressure of his cock up against my pussy lips and I moaned quietly. Hearing that, he forced my head up out of the beanbag and clamped his hand around my mouth. Even so, as he began to plow in and out of my cunt, I couldn't help from moaning with each rough thrust, and eventually he gave up trying to dam up the moans of a slut in heat and applied both of his hands to roughly grabbing and smacking my ass.

First it was mostly single slaps on both sides, and I would cry out in pain, but then he began to slap one side four, five, six times in a row in quick succession before the pain had time to subside. At this I screamed into the beanbag chair that was suffocating me, and I heard him grunt and I felt him fuck me even harder.

"Whose property are you?" he asked me, pounding my cunt mercilessly.

"I'm master's property," I answered, voice pathetically muffled by the fabric of the chair.

"Whose fucking property are you?" he asked again, words punctuated with a cruel smack on my ass.

"Yours!" I cried out, in pain and passion.

"That's fucking right," he grunted. "Stupid slut."

With that comment, I felt myself get close to cumming, but I felt the fullness of his cock cruelly removed from my cunt as I was yanked up by my hair once again. Directly in front of my face was his hard cock, being desperately beaten by his rough hand that must've been sore from already beating my ass.

I didn't need to be told, I already knew to open up. I rested my tongue underneath the head of his cock, staring up at him obediently, ready to swallow the load when I was lucky enough to receive it. He forced my head down and I could taste my pussy on his cock as I took every one of his inches down my throat.

Within seconds I felt the spurts of hot cum pumping down my throat. I felt a little bit of pride well up in me as I tasted the familiar bitter flavor. I struggled to breathe again as I swallowed every drop of what I was given.

After his orgasm subsided, he collapsed on the beanbag chair for a moment, and I felt satisfied that I'd drained him both of energy and cum. We both caught our breath for a moment before he quickly sent me on my way with a surprisingly gentle kiss on the mouth and a smack on the ass.

As I drove home, I vaguely wondered if I was going to soak through my panties and make a mess on my car seat. My arms quivered a bit as I gripped the steering wheel, weak from both supporting myself while getting fucked and from the anticipation of reliving the entire night with my dildo when I got home. My throat felt raw and oddly stretched, but I liked it. The soreness was proof that I had been a good slut.

I'm now finishing my night off with a long overdue orgasm, with a toy deep inside my pussy and rubbing my clit like the desperate, pathetic little whore I am.

I hope I'm still sore tomorrow. I hope when I sit down and I feel the tenderness of where I got spanked, I get that happy little reminder of that cock deep inside my cunt and how his cum tasted sliding down my throat.

I hope I don't have to wait too long to serve my master again.