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“I love this,” he admitted to her in a low voice. In truth he more than loved it. It sent hot licks of desire coursing through him just to look at it. To own a woman this beautiful? It was almost too much to hope for.
Abby sighed in pleasure at his touch. He parted her cheeks, took hold of her plug, and gently tugged. “Push out, pet.” She squeezed at the same time he pulled and it slowly worked itself out. Abby moaned, but he noticed that she wasn’t quite as tense as she had been with him before. She must be getting used to the plug.
He finally had it out and set it aside, pulling out the tube of lubricant from his pocket and squirted some into his fingers. He parted her cheeks with his hand and rubbed one lubed finger over her hole. It went in easily and she wiggled her hips in response.
“Like that, pet?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good girl. Spread your legs a little more. Open up for me.”
She moved her knees apart on the floor giving him a view of her most intimate parts. He slid his other hand down and rubbed her freshly shaved pussy.
“Getting wet down there?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Reach down and hold your pussy open with one hand so I can see,” he demanded.
She balanced a little to the right and spread her labia with her left hand, opening it for him. It glistened for him and he smiled appreciatively.
“Mmmm. Beautiful. Prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen. Do you feel pretty, pet, displaying yourself for me?”
“Yes, Master,” she breathed.
He worked another finger into her asshole and watched her pussy contract pleasingly. God damn. She was going to look so fucking gorgeous when he finally fisted that tight twat of hers. He had a feeling that once he did, she was going to come so hard she might snap his wrist. He almost chuckled thinking it would be well worth it.
All things in time, though.
“Okay, pet, you can put your hand back on the floor now.”
He picked up the hose and squeezed more lube on it, rubbing it all over the hard plastic with his finger. Then he pressed one finger to Abby’s asshole again, giving a small push until it gave way. He inserted a second finger and fed the well-lubed nozzle between them, slowly inserting it.
Abby didn’t have much to say about it, but then again she wouldn’t after having a three and a half inch plug inside her just minutes ago. The nozzle was considerably smaller than that. He wanted her to have as little discomfort as possible and since the end goal wasn’t anal sex, he didn’t need to keep her hole stretched open enough for him to use later.
She contracted down on the nozzle nicely and he rubbed her cheeks, soothing her. Then he release the clamp just enough to get a small flow. Abby made a small noise as the water started flowing. He let go of the nozzle and slowly began rubbing her all over. Her ass, her thighs, her pussy.
“It’s just a small one tonight, pet. It won’t be too hard,” he assured her. “You’ll tell me if there’s cramping.”
“Yes, Master,” she whispered
Tex didn’t much care for being called Master. And for damn sure didn’t like her referring to herself in the third person as if she’d obliterated her own identity in order to serve him. In fact, he was very surprised that such a confident, independent woman would agree to go that far. Abby had maintained their relationship out of the idea that what they were doing was, usually, pleasurable for both of them, or pleasurable enough for her most of the time. Enough so that the unpleasant things like punishments and anal sex were worth the trade off in her opinion. She must have realized, through her research, that a Master/slave relationship meant that her pleasure was no longer important and subject only to the whim and generosity of the one she served.
He knew some Masters from the club who believed in service so much that they never let their slaves orgasm and punished them harshly if they did. Things like cunnilingus and kissing were abhorrent to them as they believed it was the slave’s duty to serve the Master and never, ever the other way around.
Had Abby read about that? About the fact that at any time he could stop seeing to her desires as he saw fit? It humbled him to think she’d be willing to sacrifice her own happiness please him. Not that he would ever let that happen. But she had to have known it was a risk and she’d accepted it anyway.
Slavery wasn’t legal, of course, and he couldn’t force her to remain with him. The contract didn’t mean anything other than an understanding on the part of both parties what their relationship would entail. Some contracts went on for pages and pages filled with detailed rules and expected behavior for the slave. Abby’s hadn’t had any. She hadn’t known what his rules would be but she’d signed anyway. He couldn’t legally force her to stay, but she was choosing to be here and try anyway.
