The Story of Mallory Ch. 05bySAWade1968©
After Mallory's less than romantic obligatory sex-with-the-ex encounter with Kyle, she thought she had seen the last of him, at least until they started divorce proceedings, seemingly the next logical step. Instead, they started down a path in a very different direction, if only she had a crystal ball, Mallory would have seen it was the beginning of the end and not the happily ever after she had longed for.
When Kyle first approached her a few weeks after their rendezvous, Mallory could not help but believe he was joking at first, "Mal, just do a little bit of research, read some articles and see how it makes you feel. You may be surprised," he directed calmly, almost Zen like.
"Okay," Mallory answered mollifying him at the time thinking to herself, maybe he'll get bored and move on as usual. He left her with a list of websites he wanted her to peruse and some terminology he wanted her to look up and become familiar with before he was to come back the following week.
As she looked over the list, Mallory's head started to spin; she felt like she had fallen down the rabbit hole, like Alice. She wondered why he suddenly had an interest in things like Masters, slaves, submission, dominance, kajira, and Gorean lifestyle. Her mind flashed to what she knew of him and she remembered him to be somewhat narcissistic, immature, and largely uninterested in sex; she always had a much higher sex drive than he had.
Mallory poured herself a glass of wine and headed for the computer to spend the evening researching the terms on the list. As she started reading each one, she realized more and more how much they suited her personality. With each click she devoured the information, connected with it, and wanted even more. When she realized she had finished an entire bottle of wine and her eyes were weary from reading so much text her eyes flashed to the clock and saw it was 3:38 AM, she had read for 8 hours. She had to be up for work in just a few hours.
However, when Mallory got into bed, her mind was racing with visions of everything she had just read, the dominant men, the girls submitting to them, the collars, the cuffs, the rituals, and even the punishments, it was all so exciting to her. She knew she was not going to get any sleep without having some release first; she reached down between her legs and felt her wetness through her panties, moaning to herself.
Mallory slid her panties down over her thighs and spread her legs wide, slowly rubbing her swollen pussy lips with her fingers. She moved her hands up over her stomach and up to her breasts, teasing and pinching her nipples. Then, she moved her hand back down to her dripping wet pussy, not very interested in foreplay, even with herself tonight. She leaned over to her nightstand and took out her favorite reliable vibrator, turning the setting on the highest speed; she simply wanted to cum, now.
The vibrator buzzed loudly as she moved it across her pussy lips and moved it to the wet opening of her pussy; she pushed it in deeply, coating it in her juices. She pulled it out slowly, moving it back and forth as fast as she could, feeling the vibrations moving roughly across her clit. Mallory fucked the vibrator as hard as she could until she came in waves bucking against it.
Mallory turned the vibrator off and tossed it to the floor, her pussy still felt like it was buzzing. She slid two fingers inside, coating them in her cum almost feeling her pussy contract around them as she did. She opened her lips as she brought her fingers to them, licking them clean, tasting herself, sucking on them as she slowly drifted off to sleep, and dreaming of becoming a slave.
By the time Mallory saw Kyle the following week, she was so amped up from all she had read that she was willing to say yes to anything he asked of her. She had never masturbated so much in her life; she was fingering herself constantly it seemed, at work under her desk, in the car, and at home she always had a toy in her pussy or her ass.
"So, what did you think of everything?" he asked her over dinner that night.
"That is kind of an open-ended question, don't you think?" she answered his question with a question.
"Don't you mean, Sir, or Master?" he retorted.
Mallory looked at him in disbelief; he had wanted her to do some research and asked her what she thought, and now he was simply assuming. "Uhm, no, I don't," she replied indignantly.
"What did you just say?" anger flashed in his eyes and she could tell the evening had taken a dark turn.
"I said, that I do not believe we are on that level yet," she responded trying to explain, "my understanding is we are in the discussion phase and have not decided anything. Christ, I thought we were still separated and headed for divorce," she swore.
"You can still show some respect, slut," he practically spat the words at her, the veins starting to show in his neck. "Come here, NOW!" he commanded.
Unsure of what he was going to do next, Mallory felt compelled to obey him; she got up from her chair and walked towards him apprehensively. Almost compulsively, she looked down at the floor, unable to meet his eyes as he grabbed her by the hand and led her to the couch.
"Lift up your skirt and bend over," he demanded.
Without saying a word, Mallory obeyed, pulling her skirt up over her thighs revealing her thong. She bent over the couch and placed her hands on the cushions; she could hear him pulling off his belt. Suddenly she felt a rush of panic rage through her body, but at the same time, a stronger sense of excitement and desire.
The first sting of his belt came down hard across her ass with a sudden thwack, filling her eyes with tears. She cried out in pain, but he didn't stop, he swung again, hitting her thighs when she flinched. After the second hit, he asked her, "What do you call me?"
Again, the slap of the belt came down across her ass, and again, two more lashings, welting her skin. He asked again, more angrily this time, "I asked you, what are you supposed to call me?"
The belt continued to come down across her already pink and raised skin, six more times for a total of ten; after every two lashings, he would stop and ask her the same question. Each time he asked, his voice would become more and more angry, increasingly unnerved.
Mallory could not bring herself to answer him, not in the way he wished to be answered; not today, maybe someday. It was too soon, and she was too stubborn.
When he was finished, she stood there, bent over the couch, knees trembling; she was surprised to find she was dripping wet. The beating had excited her more than it had scared her; she was thrilled at the prospect that it had made him want her, too. Mallory had read about how often Masters would whip their slaves and it often turned into a sexual event afterwards, reading about it, thinking about the pain, she could not imagine; now, she was dying to be fucked.
As she turned around, she knew immediately she was not going to have his cock inside her tonight, soothing away the pain. He looked more furious than she had ever seen him; she started to say something, "I'm sorry, I just don't..."
"I'm leaving," he sneered, "we'll see if you can do better next week."
Kyle slammed the door heatedly as he left leaving Mallory to wonder again what she was getting into with him. She could not deny what she thought about wanting to become a slave, though, and she could not become one without a Master.
Mallory took a shower that night letting the cool water wash over her welted and bruised skin thinking, what can I do to be a better slave to him? What did I do wrong?