Perfection-06
Perfection - Chapter Six
- by xenaRRa
To Kelley without whom this would have remained only a dream.
All characters in this work are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
This work may not be reproduced in any form without the express permission of the author.
Copyright 1989 by K. Xenarra Brown.
- PERFECTION
- by Xenarra
Chapter Six
Constance, head down, naked ass high in the air, dared not breathe. Maybe those awful men would leave and she could try to con her way out of this. The silence steadily ripened, the tension becoming as oppressive as overripe fruit too long in the summer sun. Finally, Constance could bear the weight of it no more. She raised herself to a kneeling position. Keeping her eyes focused on her Master's kneecaps, she began to speak.
"I, I, I, um, I ran away," the truth sputtered forth. Once she had begun, her voice took over. Surely, it was another woman who knelt in front of this man, half speaking, half crying. Constance felt as if she was watching some stranger from a distance.
"I hate it here. You are all crazy. I never wanted to be here in the first place; and, I wouldn't be here at all if I had any choice. I have no idea what kind of a nut farm you're running here, but I don't want any part of it. I wanted someone to help me straighten out my life. Or at least put a little romance back in it. And what do you do? You lock me up with one of the major lunatics of the decade, that Devora, in the hopes that I'll turn out just like her. Either you haven't really talked with that woman lately, or you're as much of yo yo as she is. I have never been treated like this in my life, and I have no intention of continuing to be abused like this."
Constance drew herself up as she spoke, gathering courage. Finally, she forced herself to look her master in the eye as she delivered her final words. "Lock me up, beat me, whatever, I'm going to get out of here. I'd rather take my chances with those four horsemen of death over there, " she gestured with her head to the men who had captured her, "or with the next person who comes into the room, than to stay here."
As she finished her speech, it was as though the gods above had decided to laugh at her, for through the door at the far end of the room walked a lean, gaunt man and a shorter, rounder one, deeply involved in conversation. The weathered face of the thinner man was new, but the pudgy one still burned in her memory. She flinched at the sight, then quickly turned back to her master. Rage and indignation filled her mind with red lines of anger.
"You bastard. You god damned bastard. You set me up. You put that jerk up to scaring me. And if that wasn't enough, you had him burn plant drugs in my apartment just to keep me here. If I ever get a chance, I'm going to make you pay for this. I'd like to cut off your dick and watch you bleed to death. You are a bastard!" With that, Constance spat in his face.
Throughout her diatribe, the Master had held his peace. His face had shown no reaction, only interest. He had been about to speak when Jim and the dog trainer had entered the room. After Constance had finished hurling insults at him, he closed his eyes for a long moment, working to control the emotions she had rubbed raw.
"That's enough." His voice was quiet and calm. "I would take the time to explain why these men are in my home and that I had no part of the problems which brought you here, but since you are not staying, I'll not bother. You don't have a choice in this, I don't want you here. I would have given you your freedom and established some alibi for your whereabouts last night if you had told me how unhappy you were and given me a chance. But you've tried and convicted me before I even knew there was a problem. To top it off, you've insulted me. You've insulted me in front of others and in such a way that I cannot possibly consider allowing you to stay a minute longer here." Constance cringed at his voice and dropped her eyes to the floor.
"Seth," he said, turning to the thin man, "do you want to take this person off my hands? I'll give you papers so you can trade her if you want." Constance looked up with surprise. He totally ignored the woman at his feet and continued. "Or use her to entertain your clients. I don't care. What do you say?"
"Well . . .," the man began, but the shorter man jumped in.
"Wait a minute. That bitch is mine. She ran away from me before and I intend to take her back and make her pay for making me come all the way out here to get her."
"Seth?" the Master queried, ignoring the smaller man.
"I don't know. It's been a while since I tried having a slave out at my place. They tend to get sick from the smell of the dogs. But I sure could use someone to clean up the house. It's getting pretty bad. And, well, it's been a long time since I've been able to grab onto something soft whenever I wanted to. Under what conditions would I have her?"
"Only one. Under no circumstances are you to let that man," he gestured at Jim, "ever come into the same room with her. I couldn't send her off if I knew he could still get to her. She's frightened of him, and I think she's got every right to be."
"You have no right to take her away from me. She's mine," Jim protested. "Furthermore, Seth, here, and I have just worked up a little dog buying business deal. I'll probably be out at his place all the time, so it really doesn't make any difference," he added smugly, "I'll get her eventually."
"Seth, you've go my permission to use your twenty gauge and blow his nuts off if he ever tries anything." The thin man nodded. "And as for you," the Master turned on Jim, "I don't ever want to see your face on my property again. I don't care if you buy dogs from Seth, but don't touch her. If Seth doesn't get you, believe me, I will. And it won't be pretty. Now Get Out."
"You think you're so goddamn smart." Jim responded. "This bitch is mine and I'll get her back. You may be doing real fine right now with your fancy house and expensive cars. But things are going to start going bad for you. And when they do, look over your shoulder. 'Cause I'll be there, pulling the strings and making nasty things come your way. See you later, Larry boy." Jim turned slowly and sauntered from the room.
Devora looked nervously at her master. She was relieved to see an enormous smile spreading over his face. "What an ass hole," he said. "A potentially dangerous ass hole, but an ass hole nonetheless." He shrugged his shoulders, then spoke directly to Devora, "Please get Constance ready to leave."
It was some other woman Devora helped up and lead down the hall. Devora removed the leather strip from someone else's neck. Some other woman stepped into a pair of faded cut offs and slid a loose t shirt over her head. Constance watched as this other person was handcuffed and collared. It was someone else, it had to be. This couldn't be real.
Devora noticed Constance's detached look and recognized that the girl had not absorbed what had just transpired. Devora brought both hands up and quickly slapped Constance's face.
"Ow! What did you do that for? Hey, why am I handcuffed? What's going on?" Constance came back to her body and was bewildered by the clothing and handcuffs.
"Listen, Constance, you blew it." Devora used her hand to raise the girl's face up until their eyes met. "Don't say anything, just listen. You had an opportunity to get the help you say you wanted. Granted, the circumstances were not the best, but the help was here. All you had to do was do what you were asked. Instead, you decided to take off for a little trip through the woods. I doubt if you had any idea about what you were going to do if you got away.
"Running away was a really poor solution. It always is. Fortunately, the Master had your best interests in mind and had you brought in. I bet those guys used you sexually in some way before they brought you back, and I bet you are mad about it. But if you stop to think about it, you can figure out that whatever they did wasn't even a small fraction of what could have happened to you if someone else had grabbed you first.
"It's too bad you choose to run away after a single day of training. You didn't stay long enough to meet anyone but me. There are a lot of women here. All of us started out just as you; women who were less than overjoyed with their lives and not too sure how to straighten out the mess. We live here, learning hope to cope with life, please others, and enjoy ourselves. As for our feelings about one another we see ourselves as family. We rely on each other, second only to the Master, for the love and support we need. "You had an opportunity to join our community. But, as I said before, you blew it. I doubt if he'll ever want to see you again, much less help you out of the mess that slimy Jim got you into. With the way you've messed it up for yourself, you should be glad that the Master turned you over to Seth with orders to protect you from Jim. A less kind man would have signed you over to your worst enemy and laughed at your troubles.
"Constance, you invite your own troubles. You refuse to listen, to obey, and to try. I wish you much luck with Seth. He uses lots of patience with his dogs, so I'm sure there's very little left for a slave. If you ever become willing and able to listen and learn, perhaps the Master will find you and give you a second chance.
The meaning of Devora's words penetrated Constance's defensive wall as water erodes a barrier. Her eyes filled with tears which splashed down her cheeks, dampening the tee shirt as she realized that she really was being sent away with someone she didn't know. The uncertainty hit her with full force and she began sobbing. Devora gathered her in her arms and held her as she cried. All too soon the tall man stood before them and Devora surrendered her charge. Seth clipped a lead to Constance's collar and led her to his pickup. He boosted her up into the cab, closed the door, then walked around and climbed into the driver's seat. Constance tried to turn around to get one last glimpse of what she was leaving, but Seth took hold of her collar and brought her around to face him.
"Leave it back there. You didn't want any part of it and you got your wish. You're mine now. And we're going to do things my way. I train my slaves, when I take them, like I train my dogs. You do what you're told, you're ok. You don't do what you're told, you get punished. No fancy system. Just simple rules. Understand?" His voice was blandly matter of fact.
Constance looked at the man who held her so intently in his gaze. Seth's straight, sandy hair was parted on the side and fell loosely across his forehead. His pale blue eyes were deeply lined from years of working outdoors. His face had a weathered look which contrasted sharply with the vigorous muscles which pressed against the sleeves and shoulders of the plaid work shirt he wore. His jeans were stained, but clean, and ended in brown, scuffed work boots. The hands which held her face were long, fingers almost delicate. But the callouses on the palms denied any sensitivity. Constance could tell that this man said only what was needed, and allowed only obedience.
"Yes, Master," her voice was just barely audible.
"Nope, can't have that Master crap. Just use Sir. You and I both know who's the Master and who's the slave. But the outside world just doesn't understand. So, just use 'Yes, Sir,' when you answer me. Three rules at my house for slaves. Never be higher than I am unless I specifically tell you to do something. Never do anything without permission. And never speak unless you are spoken to. Any questions?"
"Yes, M , yes, Sir."
"What don't you understand?"
"What do you mean about being higher than you, Sir?
"If I'm standing, you're kneeling. If I'm sitting in a chair, you're seated on the floor. If I'm sitting on the floor, you're lying down. You can show me right now if you understand. Don't say a word, just do it."
Constance thought for a moment, then, realizing what he wanted, worked her way forward on her seat. The cutoffs she wore rode up and lodged themselves tightly and uncomfortably between her ass cheeks. She was still turned to face him, so it wasn't too difficult to lower herself into a kneeling position on the floorboard of the pickup. It was uncomfortable and awkward, however, and she hoped that this show of obedience would satisfy him and she could return to her seat. Instead, he merely nodded, then started the engine and slipped it into gear. As the truck moved forward, Constance found herself swaying rather precariously, trying in vain to balance her body and avoid bumping her head or taking a spill.
The ride went on forever. Several times Constance started to ask to get back up on the seat; but the stern look on Seth's face stifled any protests. As she recognized that she was in no immediate position to disobey, her thoughts turned to planning ways to extricate herself from this latest predicament.
After a time, the truck pulled onto a gravel driveway, then slowed to a stop. Seth got out, then came around and helped Constance out. He removed the handcuffs, unbent her cramped legs and rubbed them until they tingled with the familiar pins and needles sensation of limbs too long uncomfortable. As soon as she could walk, he led her toward the ramshackle farm house which served to partially block the sight and smell of what had to be a hundred dogs.
"Kennels are behind the house," he said as they approached the sagging porch. "Mind your step. I don't do much to the house, just keep up the kennels and work with the dogs." He stopped suddenly and turned back to her. "Say, I never asked you. Are you afraid of dogs?"
"I, uh, well, sort of, Sir." She spoke hesitantly, not wanting to lie, but unwilling to risk exposing herself too much.
"Well, for starters, I guess you can stay inside. There's probably enough cleaning and cooking to do to keep you busy for a while." He resumed walking and they mounted the stairs. He pushed open the door and some of the peeling paint came off on his hand. "Well, here's home," he said.
The sight that greeted Constance was totally beyond her comprehension. The floor was nearly covered with old newspapers, bits of dog food, and fast food garbage. Where a piece of tile flooring poked through the trash, it was a sickly brownish green and stained with ketchup, old fried eggs and, patches of dried vomit The only pieces of furniture were an ancient portable television propped on a lawn chair and a battered couch against one wall. What little of the couch was visible under the piles of newspapers, dirty clothing, and assorted cans and bottles appeared to have once been flowered. The walls were barren except for the stains from hand prints and what looked like drips of dried soda or beer from suddenly opened cans. The smell was like a combination of an old locker room and five day old garbage. It wasn't possible that anyone could live in such squalor.
She yanked the lead chain from his hand and turned around to leave. He caught her arm and pulled her back.
"Just where do you think you're going?"
"Back to the truck. You can't be serious about living here. This is some kind of weird joke, right?"
"Wrong. I told you I don't usually take slaves. One reason is because I don't have much patience. Come here." He yanked her chain and she followed him outdoors and toward the low, whitewashed buildings. He led her to a pen outside the first door. Inside was a large, unfriendly looking dog. He curled his lip and growled as Seth moved toward the cage. "I don't really want you here, but as long as you're here, you might as well do something about the mess inside the house."
"No way, Jose. I'm outta here." She was frightened of the dog and tried to pull away but Seth proved as strong as he looked.
"I guess you want to spend some time in here, then. I haven't had a chance to get this dog calmed down, so I've got to cage him. He was maced by a lady and has never quite been the same since. Maybe you can gentle him down."
"No, no, please." Constance had backed away as far as possible, straining the chain.
"Alright, I take it that you want to work." The dog choose that precise moment to leap at the fence. Constance dove for Seth for protection. The next thing she knew, he had hoisted her over his shoulder and taken her back to the kitchen, to a cast iron heating stove in one corner. He set her down on the floor facing the stove and fastened an iron grip on one of her legs. She tried to fight, but felt as effective as a mosquito on a lion. A long, heavy chain snaked its way from one of the stove's legs and was quickly locked about her ankle.
"That ought to hold you. Now, clean up in here first, then start on the living room. The chain just reaches the furthest corner in there. It doesn't, however, reach the bathroom. You can't use the bathroom until both rooms are clean. The bucket, trash bags, and other cleaning stuff is in the pantry. I'm going out to work. Come outside and holler when you're ready." Saying that, Seth pushed open the screened back door and walked away toward the noise of the kennels.
Constance sat very still for a moment, then she picked up the chain in the middle, raised it high above her head, and let it fall. The jangle it made was maddeningly cheerful. She tugged on it, trying to loosen its grip first from the stove, then from her leg. But the links held securely. Unwilling to turn around and face what was surely much worse than the living room had been, Constance buried her head in her hands and leaned on the stove for support.
After a few minutes of self pity, a disturbing thought rumbled its way into her consciousness: 'If the living room was that bad, what filth am I leaning against?' She pushed away from the stove and pulled herself up. She turned to survey the kitchen and was not surprised that the contamination had found its way into the kitchen.
"This guy," Constance said out loud to the world in general, "should never live alone. He apparently can't do it without destroying everything. I wonder if he was a secret weapon for the army when he was younger. When he trashed the enemy, he used real trash." She giggled at the thought, then wandered around the room, shuddering with each unexpected find. Under a pile of dirty dishes she discovered a frying pan containing oil which resembled very old 10w/40. Another mound yielded what had to be all the glasses Seth owned, each with a disturbingly bluish green fuzz growing in the bottom. She turned to the refrigerator and found that she could play 'Guess What I Was' with the contents of both the meat and vegetable compartments.
"It's amazing this guy hasn't come down with typhoid or something. No wonder he eats at Burger King. He's probably afraid to open the refrigerator or a cabinet for fear of getting bitten by mutant food." Just saying that aloud helped cheer her spirits. But the rudest shock came when she peeked into the freezer compartment of the refrigerator. There was a big plastic bag, and it had something hairy in it. Constance began screaming.
She was still standing in front of the open freezer, screaming, when Seth charged through the back door.
"What in the hell? Oh, I see you found Blackie. He sure was a good dog. But he died kind of suddenly, and I thought I'd better get the vet to run some tests. So, I put him on ice until I can get the body out there." Constance sank to her knees and grabbed hold of his jeans.
"Really bothers you, huh? Ok, I'll try to get him out of there this week. You don't have to clean the freezer until I get Blackie out. Are you ok now?"
"Please, don't make me stay here. Please. You can't. You just can't. It's so awful here. Please."
"Sorry, kid. This is it. Well, let go so we both can get back to work." Seth looked up and surveyed the room. "Hey, you haven't made much progress. What's the matter?"
"You can't make me clean up your mess. It isn't fair." Constance countered.
"Fortunately, I don't have to make you. You'll eventually need to pee. Or to eat. You can do both when you've finished cleaning. Until then, nothing goes in or comes out of your body. Unless you want to go play with the dogs?" Constance began to whimper. "I thought not. Oh yes, you are a slave and I did forget one little detail: You're still dressed." He reached down and lifted the tee shirt over her head and slid it off her arms. He then stood her up and tugged at the cutoffs until they unwillingly slid to her feet. "Not bad, but not now, later." He pinched a nipple and smiled at her reaction. "Now, get to work." Seth left her in the middle of the foul floor.
She considered the possibility of bombarding him with dishes the next time he came in. But she had never seen him angry and didn't want to risk it. She thought about doing nothing, but knew that eventually she'd get hungry, or need to relieve herself. She tugged again at the chain but found it still tightly fastened. In the end, she resigned herself to the task, disgusting though it was.
By the time he returned, the afternoon had turned to night and the house had become liveable. He climbed over the mound of trash bags piled at the back door and found her sound asleep, sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch. He softly released the chain's grasp from her ankle, and, gathering her in his arms, took her into the bedroom. Constance stirred as he set her on the bed, stretched, then curled tightly in a ball. Seth stripped and joined her, wrapping his body around her and snuggling spoon like. He matched her regular breathing and soon drifted off.<T>
Constance was awakened by the insistent pressure of his erection against her back and the pressure in her bladder. She gently lifted Seth's arm from her shoulder and slid off the bed in search of the bathroom. Upon reaching the small room, she closed the door and, shielding her eyes, turned on the light. Much to her amazement, the room was spotless. White porcelain and gleaming chrome sparkled at her. She had been afraid not to see where she would sit for fear of sitting on something unknown. Now she was afraid to sit because she might dirty the room. Shaking her head in confusion, Constance relieved herself. She then washed her hands and face, brushed her hair into place with her hands and turned out the light.
Opening the door cautiously, she moved slowly in the direction of the bed, her eyes still trying to focus. She considered leaving right then, but the lure of the soft bed after her long day was more than she could resist. As she slipped back between the covers, Seth sleepily reached for her. He drew her close and began stroking her body. His roughened hands had an amazingly light touch. Fingertips brushed down her shoulders, moved over her belly, and down her outer thighs. They returned up her inner legs, then moved back down again. Over and over he traversed her body, each time coming nearer her shaved mound.
Constance had begun to respond to this stranger despite herself. She shuddered deliciously under his touch and tried to move, but his body and hands held her firmly in place. Seth began to play with her pussy and tits, stroking one and pinching the other as Constance squirmed with pleasure and pain, her mouth opening involuntarily, her breathing increased. His hands were strong. They moved her body as though it were tissue paper. He rolled her onto her back and spread her legs with one knee. He reached up to where her hands had found his hair, lifting each and holding them out, away from her body as his lips began searching her mouth. His dick was hard and stubborn against her leg where it lay pinned under his, against the bed.
Seth moved his hands away from hers, now holding her arms to the bed with his elbows as he slipped his hands past her ears, though her hair and under her head. He brought her head up and deepened the kiss. Constance felt the tongue in her mouth as it penetrated deeply. The ferocity of his kiss took away her ability to breathe. When he finally released her, her gasps for air shook the room. Her tits rose and fell with the effort of getting her breath back. His hands again sought out her nipples, pinching and caressing them. Her mouth again went slack as she fought for control of her emotions. Her nerve endings fired at will, bringing up from the depths of her subconscious an animal who only wanted to fuck and be fucked. She writhed under his hands, longing for the freedom of release.
Seth liberated her body for a moment as he rolled onto his back. Then his hands were again in her hair, controlling her, bringing her over him. Her mouth opened of its own accord and she darted her tongue out to touch his nipple. It rose under her massage, his slightly salty skin wonderful to taste. She licked and nibbled at it until he shifted her to the other side. She again aroused the tiny bump to rock hardness and Seth ran his hands down her back, then again into her hair. Constance's wet pussy begged relief and she rubbed it meaningfully against Seth's leg as she bent her head over his chest.
In response, he lifted her head up from his chest and guided it down toward his pelvis. In a sudden moment's recognition, Constance knew where he was taking her and what would be expected. She tried to withstand his power but could neither break from his grasp nor halt his progress. She tried, with her tongue flickering quickly from her mouth, to interest him in something else. But her desperation moves had no effect on Seth. Soon her tenacious tongue found his curly, pubic hair and shrank from its texture, knowing what would follow. Knowing that he would force himself into her mouth and use her as had others before. Knowing she would choke and gag and fail to please once again.
But his hands suddenly fell away. Constance was so surprised that she slipped forward and landed face first in his warm loins. He laughed a low chuckle and brought his hands back to hold her there, pressed into his warmth while he spoke.
"Slave, you resist me now, but just a minute ago, you were very pleasing. What changed?" He brought her head up and turned her face sideways next to his body so she could answer.
"I, I, I'm afraid. I can't do this. I've tried, but I always mess up." Constance's voice dropped to a whisper. "You've been good to me tonight and I want to, but I don't know how to."
"What do you want to do, that you can't? Putting it into words will make it possible. The only impossible things are those that can't be named."
"I want to suck your dick. I want to make you come in my mouth. I want to make you happy." The words were almost a sob.
Seth held her head up and peered into her eyes in the dim light. "You are my slave. You are safe with me. Do exactly what I say, and you will be fine." Constance nodded, but her eyes still registered fear. He sighed and pressed her head close to him again. He turned onto his side and held her next to him for a long moment, then spoke softly, "Lay between my legs." She moved carefully into place, afraid to touch him, yet unwilling to break the contact he had established on her head.
"From this position, you control how far my penis will go in your mouth. I'm going to lay back and enjoy. Just please me with your mouth as best you can. I think you'll surprise yourself. Try to think of my dick as an ice cream cone, your favorite flavor. You want to lick up every drop of that ice cream before it melts away. Just relax." Saying that, Seth released his hold on her hair and rested his hands atop her head in an untroubled manner, his face relaxed, eyes closed. Constance looked at him a long moment. She realized that she could simply get up and walk away; but somehow staying was more inviting that leaving.
With utmost tenderness, Constance brushed her fingertips lightly down his chest, sliding them past his waist and onto the tops of his thighs. She continued to move her hand along his body as she brought her mouth to his shaft. The slightly parted lips which brushed the top of his penis were dry; and the contact between the two dry surfaces caused him to shiver. Constance, startled by his movement, glanced up at his face, then moistened her lips and again lowered them to his swollen member as she made note of the beautiful smile which had spread across his features.
She slipped the very tip into her mouth and began exploring it with her supple tongue. Constantly looking for new positions, new ways to please him, Constance rode his dick with her mouth, rubbing the sensitive skin back and forth over the natural ridge. Each time she was able to take in a tiny bit more. Her eyes half closed as she relaxed into pleasing him. Before she recognized the difference, his hands were controlling her head again, bringing a rhythm to her movements which felt natural and pleasing. One of his hands slipped lower, fingers gently massaging her throat, helping her ease the movement of his cock against her lips, mouth, and down her throat.
A bit of salty liquid escaped and fell on her taste buds. Enjoying the unexpected taste of him, Constance began to suck on the dick embedded in her mouth. Her first attempts were too wet and slippery to do more than further arouse Seth, causing his penis to engorge fully. The meat now filled her mouth, and starting to gag, she stopped and slowed her breathing until she regained control. Seth also breathed deeply and evenly, encouraging her to relax by his actions. When she at last began again with renewed vigor, he tightened his hold on her head slightly and helped her regain her former rhythm.
Constance's head slid up and down his shaft now, drinking in nearly its full length. She had begun to feel as though this could continue forever when the pace suddenly quickened. Still gentle, but now more insistent, Seth's hands worked her mouth over his cock. "Suck harder," the words forced their way past his half opened lips. Constance tried to suck and move her tongue at the same time. She was concentrating so intently on maintaining a constant pressure while matching his strokes that his cum was a complete surprise. He came so suddenly and forcefully that she had no choice but to swallow his semen as it gushed forth. It slid down the back of her throat and was soon deep within her belly. He relaxed as he spent himself, but kept his hands in her hair.
"Keep your mouth around it, suck a little every now and then, and it won't relax. You did wonderfully, slave. A little more practice and you'll have it perfectly. Keep my dick hard, I want to fuck your pussy soon. If it's half as exciting as your mouth, we're both going to enjoy this."
Constance did as she was told, occasionally caressing his cock with her increasingly talented tongue, while working to keep her stomach in place. Seth's breathing became deeper. Constance was certain he had fallen asleep. She eased her hold on his dick and began to slip it from her mouth. It had indeed retained its rigidity, and when it fell from her lips, it bounced in the air a moment. Seth let out a low growl, then moving his hands to her shoulders, brought her body up to meet his. He crushed her against his chest in a hug which took her breath away. They rolled over together she on her back, he astride her hips, his penis fully hardened once again.
No words were spoken as his legs spread her thighs, his hands rubbing her shoulders and breasts, exerting his ownership over her body. He lifted her pelvis and began to tease the opening to her cunt with the tip of his dick. One finger slid down and played with her slippery wet button of a clit. Tiny firecrackers exploded on her body with his every touch. She moaned loudly, reached up and began scraping her nails on his back. So intense were the sensations he had excited in her, she didn't notice her actions until he stopped and, reaching to the table beside the bed, plucked a fresh bandanna from the stack and gagged her with it. He took her hands from his back and held them high above her head with one of his. He resumed playing with her, toying with her clit and cunt until her eyes begged him for release.
His free hand reached under her and pulled them together. The feel of his big member inside her body took her breath away. He began to fuck her with long, hard strokes each time pulling out to the tip, then pushing back past the slippery and tender tissue to strike the core of her being. The rhythm increased and soon her hips were rising to match his gait. Impossible as it seemed, the pounding became more insistent, more intense. When they finally came, it was together, with the shattering release that leaves no room for breathing, no room for thought. Constance was raw emotion, liberated for the first time in her life, liberated by the constraints Seth had imposed upon her.
He held her very still until the tremors and after shocks of the explosion passed. Then he rolled again onto his side and drew her to him again. He removed her gag, then kissed her tenderly on the lips. When she tried to speak, to thank him, he silenced her with a finger pressed to her lips.
"Sleep, my slave," were the last words she heard as she dropped off to exhausted oblivion, a smile on her lips.
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