The Fighting Fucktoy

Mistress' washing of her hair slowed down as my hands slowly worked over her bust. I never had been clear on whether or not breasts were erogenous, but, seeing the muted look of ecstasy on her face as I caressed her, I decided that, yes, they were. With a flash of audacity, I pressed my thumbs onto her nipples, feeling them harden as I rolled them in circles. With a few passes through her cleavage and one last squeeze of her softness, I reluctantly moved farther down.

Mistress let her arms down now, letting her hair rinse as I dutifully worked my hands up and down her midriff, feeling the strength of her firm abdominal muscles. After a few passes up and down her surprisingly smooth lower back, I smiled as I realized what was coming next.

This time, I cut straight to the part I think we were both waiting for. With a fresh load of soap on my hands, I held her hip with my left hand and, with my right, pushed down across her slit, then back up, my smile broadening as I heard a moan issue through her pursed lips. While my left hand began to wander along her flanks, my right circled all around her thighs, always pressing harder as I passed over her womanhood. On my penultimate pass, I moved up a finger and flicked her clitoris, watching her spasm in response. Emboldened, I moved my hand around beneath her and pushed it up inside of her, flaring out my fingers before pulling out, slathered in her juice.

"Ohh," she moaned, "no more..."

Before she finished that sentence, I was past her vagina, on my knees in front of her, pumping my hands up and down her legs, then finishing with her feet, taking care to rub in between her toes.

As soon as I had both feet cleaned, I felt a hand clasp around my shoulder and yank me upwards. Obeying, I stood and faced her, looking expectantly up.

"Stay still," she ordered. "I'm going to wash you now."

All at once, I froze, then submitted to her touch as her hands began to tousle my hair with shampoo, then with conditioner, before she picked up a bar of soap and started on my face, then moved down my shoulders. For her pleasure, I took a deep breath and tightened my chest muscles as she ran her hand up and down my surface, forgetting to wash my back as she moved onto something that seemed to interest her more.

Like fighters circling one another, her hands browsed the fringes of my manhood for a few seconds before her left hand settled on my testicles, brushing and fondling them with just enough gentility so as not to hurt. Her right hand, meanwhile, clamped around my hot, stiffening shaft and stroked in and out, not pushing too far in either direction. Her finger pressed gently on my resisting flesh as juices of my own began to secrete from my tip.

For several minutes, she did as I would have done with her, had I been the master and she the slave. With no one to rush her, she took her time on my masculine flesh, pumping and squeezing and batting it between her hands like a toy until, at last, her hands moved on. Her eyes stayed locked on my penis as she continued down, not bothering to wash my feet.

Finally, she turned off the water. With visible effort, she removed her hungry gaze from me and stepped out of the shower. After drying us both off, she gently pulled me out to her bedroom. Placing me on the bed, she grabbed my waist and rolled me onto my back. All the while, I did not resist, letting her move me around like a rag doll.

"Are you ready for this?" she asked, straddling me.

"You want sex?" I deduced.

At this, she stared at me with disbelief, then and guffawed heavily.

"Haven't you ever been fucked before?"

"Twice," I replied. "One man and one woman used me before I was sold to a boyfighting team. That never happened while I was in training."

"Well," she concluded. "I'm gonna change that. You may be my partner in crime, but you're also my fucktoy."

"I understand."

"Good."

My cock was already erect. Lining herself up, she lowered herself onto me all at once, making a delicious squelching sound.

I convulsed beneath her sudden weight, then shuddered under a sensory shockwave that erupted from my loins, infusing me with the sudden strength to push back, then pull back down as she lifted herself up again. With each pump, another wave crashed through my brain as my manhood grew slick and we quickened our pace, my head growing light. Then, Mistress grew light. Glancing up at her, I saw her face contort and her teeth clench before her mouth threw open, she let out a long, wailing moan and soaked me with hr juices.

She stayed on for a few more thrusts, then pulled up and off of me.

"Whew..." she gasped. "And I didn't even pick you for that."

"Have I pleased you, mistress?"

With a genuinely charmed smile, she rolled over, wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into a deep, loud kiss.

"You, Simon, truly are a find."

Now seemed like the best time to broach the subject.

"May... may I cum, mistress?"

Mistress looked down at my organ.

"Toworrow," she defined. "I want to do that again in the morning."

"I understand, mistress."

"And please, don't say 'mistress' with every sentence. We both know you belong to me. Just say it when you'd say my name."

"Okay."

"Now come on, let's get cleaned up."

After we showered- individually, this time- I followed Mistress to her bedside, then hesitated.

"Um..."

"Come on in, boy," she welcomed. "You're sleeping with me from now on."

"Thank you, mistress."

"There you go again with the title."

"Oh... sorry."

There was a pause. I thought about the escapade we had planned for tomorrow night. Unlike the boyfighting team, this owner actually told me about what she intended to do with me. Now that I knew, there was something else I was curious about.

"Mistress, can I ask you something?"

"Mm? What is it?"

"This slave-stealing business... do you do it for justice, or is it all for your amusement?"

"It just makes sense," she brushed off. "Go to sleep, Simon."

"Okay."

Once she closed her eyes, I gave her a probing look.

I think she didn't know the answer.