I was a little shocked when he opened up the night stand drawer and pulled out the lubricant. That action could only mean one thing - he was going to fuck my ass. He’d been moving inside my pussy for awhile now. I admit my heart wasn’t in it. I knew I wouldn’t be allowed to cum and regardless of my place as his slave, I still felt a little cranky when I knew my pleasure wasn’t considered. Most days “my pleasure is in HIS pleasure” worked as a mantra, but on this night, it wasn’t working.
“You will take this. There’s no getting out of it. There’s no use fighting. You will take your master’s cock into your asshole and you will please me. Do you understand?” “Yes, Sir,” I mumble, not really wanting to vocalize anything. I wanted to dig inside myself and reach for subspace, which sometimes happened, sometimes didn’t. “I didn’t understand you, slave.” “Yes, Sir,” I answered again, a little louder this time, but still struggling. He pulled my hair and lifted my face from its sanctuary inside my pillow. “Louder.” “Yes, Sir.” “Now tell me you want to please your master. Tell me you want me to fuck your ass and take what’s mine.” I do, only somewhat reluctantly. As I was speaking the words, he pushed his cockhead into my entrance and I bit back a cry. “Push back. Accept it,” he ordered as I willed myself into silence and slowly pushed my body towards his. He groaned a contented sound as the last inch went in.
When he came, he collapsed on top of my back, kissed just above my ass and said, “Good girl,” in voice out of breath, but filled with pleasure.
