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From: DeGrinch <degrinch@acprime.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Winnings; Pt. 1 of 2 (Mf, d/s)
Date: Tue,  5 Nov 2002 18:10:02 -0500
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The Winnings; Pt. 1 of 2 (Mf, d/s)


The story below deals with sex.

If you are below the arbitrary age set for your area, don't read
this story.

If for any reason it is illegal for you to read this story, don't
read this story.

Copyright (c) 2001 DeGrinch.  ALL Rights Reserved

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without
the written permission of the author.

This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached.

All the characters and events in this story are fictional; any
resemblance to real people or events is entirely coincidental.


                            THE WINNINGS
                            By DeGrinch


The next table had a woman playing.  She was wearing a short
dress and having to stretch for her shot.  She was also wearing a
thong, flesh colored.  I missed my shot.

Mike, the guy I was playing with though this was funny and
started snickering.  After a quick flash of anger at myself for
allowing the distraction to get to me, I though it was funny too.
However, before I could join Mike in a laugh a donkey started
braying to my right.  The donkey was about 5 ft.  9in tall and
medium build with a nice looking women sitting at the bar table
across from him.

I gave Mike a look, and a small nod toward the donkey, hung my
head and shook it, as I went to sit down while Mike ran out the
rest of the rack.  We had been playing for more than 2 hrs. And
Mike would have left earlier if it hadn't been for the short
dress at the next table, so as Mike smiled at the outcome of the
last game, and took apart his cue, I took a 50 from my wallet and
handed it to him, being sure that the donkey saw me do it(Mike
would return the money later when I told him what had happened).
Mike  left, he knew at least part of what I was planning, I
gathered the balls and started playing solo. I had only shot two
or three times when the donkey took the bait.

"Hey buddy want to play for some bucks."  He said.

"How much you talking about."

"Twenty?"  He asks.

I seldom try to miss a shot while I'm playing, that can lead to
very bad habits.  What I do is leave myself very poor shape and
if you can only make one or at most two balls at a time and
almost never play a safety, your not going to win many games.

I had planned for him to win the first game, but he was such a
poor player, and more than a little drunk, I couldn't even throw
it convincingly.  He did manage to win the 2nd and 3rd, at the
end of which he suggested raising the stake, to which I
reluctantly agreed, and we started playing for 50.

It was about this time that he sent the girl off, with a slap on
the ass, for drinks, and I noticed again how well she was built.
I proceeded to win the next four games, and $180 of his money. 
We had been putting the stake under an ashtray at the start of
each game, and he had to get money from the girl before putting
up his half of the stake.  I won again.  This time when he went
to her for money there was a bit of a discussion before he came
over to feed the kitty, I got the impression that this would be
the last game, that they were both taped out.

He broke and got thorough the three ball before missing, I got
the 4, 5, and 6, played safe on the 7, he got a good hit but left
me a shot and that was the game.  $280 of his in my pocket.

Turned out I was right.  He was down to about ten bucks. No, I
wouldn't play him on credit, and I didn't want his watch or his
stick.  That was when he offered to put up the girl.

It's what I had been expecting and hoping for.  I don't know what
it was but as soon as I had seen the two of them together I just
knew it would come to this.

"She's going to agree to this?"  I ask.

"She does what I tell her."

"Sure she does, but I want to hear it from her.  Call her over."
I said.

"Hold it man."  He said.  "She's worth a lot more than $50. I
want $200 against her."

I tried to look as if I was thinking it over.  Reluctantly I
said.  "I'll put up a hundred.  That's it."

After giving me what he must have though was a hard look, he
waved her over.  As she walked up to us I though he was probably
right, she was worth at least $200 but I sure wasn't going to
tell him that.

"Your man wants to bet you against $100 for the next game." I
told her. "That Ok with you?"  She looked at me for a couple of
beats and nodded her head.

"You understand, if I win, you belong to me until tomorrow
morning for whatever I want?"  I ask her.  I wanted to pin it
down, that I was going to get what I wanted, not just what she
might want to give.  Looking me in the eye, she nodded her head
again.

"No.  You've got to say it."  I told her.

"Whatever you want.  If you win."  She answered.  She had a
rather low, husky voice for a woman.

"Done."  I told him.

He broke and proceeded to worry me by running six balls, but then
he missed and that was it, I had his money and his woman. Oh, he
didn't like it and wanted to play some more, didn't want to give
up his woman or his money and he was sure I was a dirty hustler.
In the end I walked out with the money and the woman. I looked
her over a little better as we were leaving, she wore too much
makeup, a poor style for her mousey brown hair and too tight
jeans(yes there is such a thing), sneakers and a dirty off- white
blouse made her look, at first glance, like rather cheap stuff,
but better light and a closer look showed some real quality under
it all.  Of course the boyfriend met us in the parking lot and
wanted to welch on his bet, a couple of good slaps to his ears
fixed that, the girl just stood and watched, no egging him on or
cheers for either side, which was nice.  I held the door open for
her to enter the car, and got a quiet thank you for it.  I was
starting to like this girl more all the time.

We only spoke once during the ride to the motel.  "Linda Ames." 
She told me, when I asked her name.  I left her in the car while
I went in to get a room, I returned and drove around to the
nearest entrance and we went up to the room, on the third floor,
smoking, single king. The room had a bathroom on the left as you
entered and closets with mirrored bifold doors on the right, a
single main room with a TV on a chest of drawers, a table with
two chairs, a third stuffed chair and the bed.  I went to the
stuffed chair and sat down, she stood at the foot of the bed and
looked around.

"Close the curtains."  Wanting to see if she took orders.

"Stand here."  I made my voice hard so it would sound like
orders, and watched her closely as she did what I told her, I was
more than pleased to see her move to do the things I told her
without any hesitating.  This was looking more and more like it
would be a very entertaining night.

When she had been standing in front of me about a minute, it was
time to begin. "Start with your blouse."  Was all I said. We were
still at a testing stage in the relationship and I was going a
little slowly to see when she would start putting on the brakes,
it wasn't yet, she started with the top button and worked her way
down.  I did think that I detected the start of a blush as she
pulled the tails of her blouse out of her jeans and looked me in
the eye for a second.  The pushup bra she wore made what looked
like a foot deep cleavage.  She bent to remove her tennies, and
then straightened and popped the button on her jeans, the zipper
came down and with a nice wiggle she pushed them down past an
excellent set of hips and stepped out of them. She stood and
looked at me wearing only bra and panties for a few seconds, I'd
guess to gage how much I liked what she was showing me, and then
reached for the front closure of her bra, snap and it was open,
then in almost the same movement she dropped the bra and started
her panties down her legs to her knees from which they dropped to
the floor and she stepped out of them.

I had begun to realize that I had lucked into something special
some time before, but now I could see just how special. She had
fairly wide shoulders for a girl and they were necessary to keep
her breasts from looking too large for a girl as short as her,
her waist looked like she was wearing a corset, it dipped in so
far before flaring out into wide hips.  Her legs looked long and
slender by some illusion, I would guess her to be 5' 4" tops and
say 115 lbs., but my god was it all in the right places.

"Come closer."  I told her.  I could see now that she had green
eyes.

I reached out and ran my hand down her side starting at her side
just above her hip, she had the skin that you dream about, like
she was made of satin, there seemed to be no pores.

"Keep your hands at your sides, and bend forward from the waist."
 I told her.

I then reached for her breasts, soft at the surface with a solid
core and great nipples, responsive, already hard and pointing at
me, almost as big around as my little finger, dark and crinkled
at the base.  I took a nipple in each hand, between my forefinger
and thumb and began to apply pressure.  I watched her eyes now,
and her expression, looking for rebellion, fear, pain and most of
all to see if she showed her suffering, showed her inner self. 
Are her eyes the window to her soul?

YES!

The look of her was all I could hope for, she showed it all
suffering, but, also need, and determination great enough to
easily overpower the suffering.  Now to gage that determination,
just how strong is it?  I increased the pressure, a little more
each second.  As I start to reach the end of my strength a roll
is added to the pressure, a sort of side slippage that I know
adds greatly to the torment.

At last it happens, a small noise from the back of her throat,
and her hands came forward to rest light as butterflies on my
wrists.  I made a mental note that she still did not speak.

"You were told to keep your hands at your sides!"  I used a stern
voice that was intended to broker no interference, no delay in
following orders.  Her hand returned to her sides with only the
shortest pause, but during that short respite she formed fists
and as I continued to watch her eyes and expression, I could see
the determination to overcome what stood in the way of what she
needed to do.

"You will be punished for that."  I told her, not letting up on
the pressure, although no longer sliding her nipple between my
fingers.  I held them only a couple of seconds longer and then
abruptly relieved the pressure.  Ah!  I could read a thank you in
her expression.  Soon I would teach her to say the words that
went with the expression.  I leaned back in the chair watching
her.  She continued to lean forward as I had told her to do.   
She learns readily, a very good thing, in most cases.

"Stand straight.  Open your legs.  Show yourself to me!"  I tell
her.  I'm trying for a normal, matter-of-fact, voice.  It's
another test in a way, although if not passed, it will not count
against her any great amount.  Hell.  With just what I'd seen so
far I itched to own her.  To really begin her training.

She stood, her legs already almost shoulder width apart. Now she
slowly opens them farther, her hands start to creep across her
lower belly, and then stop, she opens her legs more, now watching
me as intently as I have been watching her.  She knows what I
want of her, but, now is her time to push things a bit to see
more clearly what, and who, she has to deal with.

"Show me your cunt, you little slut.  Don't play dumb with me. 
Use your fingers and get that slit open wide!"  I had made it as
insulting a command as I could, not yelling but putting all the
contempt into my voice as I could.  Right then I think I saw it.
A melting behind the eyes, a resignation to something inevitable,
that now would happen, know matter what else came to pass.  God!
I hoped I wasn't fooling myself.

Her fingers now flew to her pussy.  Two to each lip and opened
herself for my inspection.  "Wider!"  I tell her, and watch her
stretch herself.  "More."  I tell her in a louder voice.  "I
can't it's as wide as it will go."  She finally speaks, there is
a definite note of pleading in her voice, more testing to see if
this will work, where playing dumb didn't. "Try harder."  I say,
and get the reward of a quit moan, as she indeed finds a way to
open herself a little more.  The site before me is enough to make
a man come in his pants.  A beautiful body presented to a male,
offered without terms, for use or abuse.  The stuff dreams are
made of.

I had been sitting with my feet flat on the floor, legs slightly
apart and she standing just beyond.  Now I moved my feet
together, crossed my ankles and stretched my feet between her
spread legs.

"Come closer."  I now told her.

She was force to almost waddle in order to comply, her cheeks had
reddened quite a bit when she had spread herself, now they
reddened more, as she was forced to bend her legs into the start
of a squat as she brought her knees against the front of the
chair.  Quit a helpless position.  The position of a slave,
offering all she has to give, her expression showing her hope it
will be accepted.

As I reach for her, her hips tilt back away from me, and she even
leans away a bit.  It hasn't been long since her nipples were
abused, they would still be reminding her that I could be cruel
if it pleased me.  I stopped my hand midway to her cunt and
looked into her eyes, no words spoken.  The offer of her position
accepted, she could not withdraw it now.  Her hips returned and
her eyes went to the wall above and behind me, to prepare herself
for what she though was to come.

I didn't have to touch her to tell she was wet, the shine on her
slit made it plain that she had warmed already to our play. I
slowly ran the tip of my finger across her flesh, starting just
to the left of her clit and proceeding down as far as I could
easily reach toward her ass hole then back up to the right side
of her clit.  A quick rub across it and very slowly down the
center of her slit.  The pull of her fingers had parted the inner
lips, an invitation to penetrate.  Slowly around the hole, a
little closer to the center each time.  Now her hips were tilted
toward me more than they had been tipped away just a short time
before.  She closes her eyes, and the small moan I was beginning
to recognize, escaped from her lips.  I continue, often pausing
to rub a bit longer just below her clit, but never quit touching
it.  The girl is starting to run like a faucet and her fingers
are slipping on her lips.

"Keep that cunt wide."  I order, and watch her fingers crawl
across her lips like small insects, keeping herself wide for me,
available, wanting, needing the touch she had feared.  Her hips
are now starting to thrust toward my hand with the age old
rhythm.

"Slaves need permission to come."  I tell her.  This brings the
loudest moan yet from her.  Her eyes open and go straight to
mine.

"For tonight at least, you belong to me.  An owned slut is a
slave, and will obey the rules or be punished.  Do you
understand?"  Another hurdle.  Will she except the roll I've
given her?

"Yes."  She answers.

"Address me as Sir, slut."  I command.

"Yes sir."  She answers now.

I have continued to work her cunt as I spoke, I could see her
trying to hold back, but quickly approaching the place where she
would be ready to except punishment in order to gain release from
the need that is growing inside her.  I bring her closer,closer.

"Oh no you don't.  You've already earned one punishment, for
moving your hands from your sides.  A clear case of
disobedience."  I say as I place my hand on her lower belly and
push her slowly away from me.  The look that comes to her face is
exquisite, it's such a mixture of emotions and needs.

Now I stand.  Only inches from her naked body, I swear I can feel
heat radiating from her, as she looks up into my eyes.  I step
around her and go to the closet with it's mirrored doors and call
her to me.

"Know one told you to let that cunt close."  The red quickly
returns to her cheeks, the red of shame not that of passion this
time.  It's awkward to walk while holding yourself open, she
discovers.  Too bad it's only a few steps.  When she's in front
of me I tell her again to spread her legs and then step around
her and turn to look over her shoulder into the mirror which she
faces.

"Look at yourself."  I tell her.  "Don't look away.  Don't close
your eyes."  I now reach around and taking her breasts in my
hands kneading them softly, I bring my index fingers over her
nipples and push them back into her breast flesh and then rocking
them.  Her chest is lifting toward my hands, wanting more,
needing more.

"Look at her.  What is she?"  I ask.

"A slave sir."  The perfect answer.  "What else?" I ask.

"A slut sir."  Comes after a short pause.

"Soon to be a punished slut."  I now tell her.  I feel her tense
slightly at this, but then melt back against me again, making a
conscience decision not to worry about what is to come. I'll have
to change that attitude, after all it's only right that a slave
worry about her punishment, and look forward to it with some
dread.  Her hips are once again working, rubbing against the
front of my jeans.  In the mirror she does look truly wanton.  A
true bitch in heat, and looking at herself like this is only
adding to her lust.

I've kissed her shoulder, slowly trailing my lips and tongue over
to her neck and the short soft hair that grows there, softly
blowing on it through my nose as I continue to taste her skin and
get the smell of her, the feel of her great skin, smooth and firm
with a underlying softness that is special to a women.  Better
stop this, she'll have me coming in my pants if I keep this up.

I drop my hands from her and stand pressed against her back for a
minute, then step around her spread legs, she's watching me in
the mirror.  "You were told to look at yourself, not me."  I tell
her, she quickly looks back at herself.  I stand for a few
seconds looking at her, she is a very pleasant site standing
there on display for me, or perhaps I should say us.

Sliding open the closet door away from her and looking inside I
see what I hoped I would find there slid far down to the end of
the hanger rod, I reach in and slid the hangers down to me and
separate out the one I want, a pants or skirt hanger, the kind
with two small but strong spring clamps.  I hold it at about
waist level and turn toward her, I watch her eyes, she'll look
after a few seconds.  A quick glance, then another, and then her
eyes can't leave it for almost a minute before slowly raising to
meet mine.

"Obedience is something that must be learned by a new slut. It's
something that a owner must teach to a slave until it is truly
felt in the soul of her.  Even now you disobey by looking at me
instead of yourself.  Do you understand why you will be punished?
 Must it be explained that a owner who doesn't punish his slave
risks embarrassment and loss of respect when a slave is slow or
shows reluctance to obey."

No answer.

"Do you understand that a slave can also be proud of her
training, proud she has learned to obey perfectly?"

"You will answer me when I ask a question."  This last is said
with some force behind it, and as I've talked I've moved until
I'm standing well inside what would be her space if she was a
free person, talking loader than necessary to intimidate her.

"Yes sir."  Comes quietly from her.

"Then we agree that you will accept your punishment without a lot
of fuss."

"Yes sir."

"Stand straight.  Hands at your sides.  Feet together. Watch."  I
tell her.

I raise the hanger to her chest level and slid the clamps outward
until one is opposite each nipple.

This will be a true test of her.  The clamps are the type with
interlocking teeth about a 1/16 inch tall, the clamping surface
about a quarter inch deep and a little less than an inch wide,
deeper into the jaws of the clamp is an open space but it's not
very large and the tip of her nipple will be squeezed too.

I open the first and place it over her nipple, slowly allowing
the clamp to close.  She draws a breath as the pressure increases
and her shoulders tense.  I continue to support the weight of the
hanger itself on that side and open the second clamp, slid it
into position and again slowly allow the clamp to take her
nipple.  She has watched all this as I told her to, but now looks
up to me.  I can see the pain and a bit of surprise, I think, at
how much a simple skirt hanger can hurt.  When I release the
hanger and the weight pulls her nipples down, she sucks in a
breath causing her chest to rise and lets out a soft but rather
high pitched moan.

"Take off my clothing and hang it over that chair."  I tell her.
Having something to do will take her mind off her punishment a
bit, but having to work around the ends of the hanger as she
follows instructions will bring rather pointed reminders at
times.  The first reminder comes as she reaches for the top
button of my shirt, it's rather comical to watch her trying not
to disturb the hanging wight of the hanger, and quit erotic too.
It gets easier for her as she opens the lower buttons and then
tougher again as she pulls the tails out of my pants.  She
forgets to unbutton my cuffs and pushes the shirt off my
shoulders, movers around behind me and has pulled it down my back
before she discovers her error, she has to move to each side and
pull back the material to get to the cuffs.  After removing it
she straightens it and walks about five steps to the chair and
hangs it over the back, comes back and kneels to remove my shoes
and socks, back to the chair and returns to begin opening my
belt.

While she works I reach out, lift the weight of the hanger and
ask.  "Does this hurt?"

"Yes." Her answer is quit definite.

"Tell me, when you believe, that you have been punished enough."
I say to her.  I want to see if she will try to prove something
to me, or just try to stop the pain.

She slides my pants down and slips them over my feet, and once
more moves to the chair and more carefully than they deserve
folds them over the back before returning.  Only my underwear
left, she kneels before me as I raise my feet allowing her to
remove the last piece of my clothing.

"Crawl to your shoes and bring me the strings."  I tell her as
she looks up at me.  Her eyes have the soft innocent look of a
fawn.  She turns and drops to her hands and knees and crawls,
taking care not to bump the hanger with her arms, to her shoes
sits up with her back to me.  It takes her a while to get the
laces out of the shoes.  At first she holds the shoe in one hand
and pulls the string with the other, them she moves the shoe
between her knees to hold it and starts to work with both hands.
When she has both strings out she turns and crawls back looking
up at me at first and then dropping her eyes to the floor in
front of her as she comes close.  She kneels before me and holds
the strings out to me like an offering.

"Stand up."  I tell her.  When she does I take her by the
shoulders and turn her back to me, slide my hands down her arms
to her wrists and draw her hands behind her back with the palms
out, thumbs together.  I throw one string over my shoulder and
taking about the center of the other I loosely rap it twice
around her thumbs, then cross the loose ends over and under and
cinch the tie tight and knot it.  Then taking her wrists I raise
her hand so her tied thumbs are at her waist level and pass the
ends of the string around her waist.  Looking over her shoulder I
tie a bow knot just below her belly button, and turn her again to
face me and take one step back to look at her.  Her shoulders are
hunched a little trying to hug the pain in her nipples.

"Stand proud."  I tell her.  "You belong to me."

Her shoulders come back and she lifts her chest, holding her
punished nipples out to me.

I place my hands on the clamps, lift the weight of the hanger and
ask.  "You will remember to be obedient?"

"Yes."  She answers after a second.

"What?"  I ask.

"Sir.  Yes sir."  She quickly replies.

I squeeze the clamps, removing the pressure and watch her
expression as the hurt increases with the return of circulation,
clamps always hurt worse coming off, than going on.

I take the visibly flattened nipples between my fingers, and as
softly as I can, roll them to restore the circulation and rub
away the pain.  I can tell she is again surprised not to receive
more pain from my hands.

"Show me how well you suck cock."  I tell her as I drop my hands
from her breasts.  She sinks to her knees quickly and places her
mouth over the head of my cock.  Immediately I feel her tongue
going to work and she begins sliding me toward her throat, she
doesn't stop until her nose is buried in my hair and I can feel
her tongue reaching for my balls.  She's done this before.

I usually have very good control over my arousal but in less than
five minutes she has me on the edge of cumming.  For the last
minute I've been trying to convince myself that I should go ahead
and fill her mouth now, so I'll have complete control later when
I fuck her, but I sense she will be more impressed if I can stop
her now, when I definitely don't want to.

"Enough." I tell her.  "Crawl to the bed.  Get on it, with your
knees at the edge and bend forward."  My voice sounding fairly
normal, I'd been afraid that it might squeak with the force it
took to say the words.

She draws her head back slowly, sucking all the while and rubbing
her tongue from side to side across the under side of my cock and
turns her face up to me.  Her eyes look huge from this angle,
making her look about 15 yrs. old and innocent enough to break a
heart.  I stare directly into her eyes until she turns awkwardly
away, having to back up and shuffle to the side making room for
her feet, before turning toward the bed.

Watching that great ass move as she crawls on her knees to the
bed and up onto it is almost enough to make me cum by itself. I
move up behind her.  "Knees farther apart." As she complies I cup
my hand over her cunt and begin to rub it.  Her back begins to
arch almost immediately, and I allow my two middle fingers to
slide between the lips of her wet cunt.  "You suck cock quit
well, very well in fact."  I tell her, as I open my fingers, trap
her clit between them and slide my palm over her cunt.

The way kids make a imagined man walk across a table top is the
same motion I use with her clit trapped between two fingers, and
at about the same slow speed, soon the arch in her back becomes
very pronounced and a low moaning fills the room as she start to
approach orgasm.

"Are you going to disobey again?"  I ask, in a low soft voice.

"Oh, Please."  She answers.

"Tell me what you want."  I say as I continue to move my fingers
and now start to move my palm against her lips in a circular
motion.

Her face is turned to her left against the bedspread with her
eyes open when I say this.  Her eyes close and I feel her quiver,
trying to hold back the flood, unable to speak for the moment
only moan.

"Oh, Please let me cum."  She says after getting back a little
control, which immediately starts to erode as I continue to tease
her.

"How did I tell you to address me?"  I ask and stop all movement
in my hand, but not taking it away.

"Sir."  She answers, and starts to roll her hips, trying to get
the stimulation back.  After a second I start the movement of my
hand again.  The sound she makes as I do is no longer a moan but
not quit a whine.

"Try again."  I tell her in a calm, quite voice.

"Please sir, may I come?"  The strain is very evident in her
voice now.

"Your learning to beg well."  I tell her.  "But a slave, slut is
never allowed pleasure before her owner.  Is she?"  As I say
this, I quickly remove my hand from her cunt and slap it against
her right cheek with my fingers spread.  It almost splashes with
the juice she has leaked onto my hand.  This brings something a
lot closer to a squeal from her.

"No sir." Her voice strained, body quivering with he fight for
control.  "She's not."  She finishes with resignation and need at
the same time.

"The asshole you were with tonight.  Do you belong to him?" I
ask, as I watch the print of my hand come up on her ass, which
has started to move again in a very interesting way.  My cock is
starting to hurt it's so hard.

"No."  Is her simple answer.

"I'm going to fuck you.  When I do, you'll belong to me."  I tell
her.  When she doesn't say anything, I go on.  "Do you want me to
fuck you?  To make you mine?"

"Oh, yes sir."  She breaths out her answer.

'I've got her.'  Rings through my whole body, as I step between
her feet and have to push down on my cock, which seems glued to
my belly it's so hard, to line it up with her wet slit. Sliding
into her is like nothing else, there is no friction from the side
walls of her cunt, the resistance comes only from the tightness
of her hole itself parting slowly before the head of my cock and
closing tight on the shaft, seeming to suck my cock into the
liquid depths of her cunt.  I begin stroking, and hear the wet
sound of fucking as I slap my groin against her ass.

Her hands are opening and closing at the small of her back and
she tries to tug her thumbs loose so she can use her hands and
arms to help push herself back against my thrusts which aren't as
strong or hard as she would like, I haven't lost all control yet.
 She doesn't pull too hard or long, tied thumbs can be painful if
fought too hard.  My strokes are hard enough to slide her upper
body farther toward the head of the bed a little at a time, and
soon I start to have to lean my knees against the edge of the bed
and arch my back in order to get fully into her at the top of
each thrust.  When she has slid far enough so I would have to
fall forward over her in order to reach full depth I just keep
pulling back at the end of a stroke and come completely out of
her.  Pulling the head of my cock back through the tight clasp of
her lips almost ends the fun of teasing her, with my come on her
ass and back, but I manage to hold off again.

As I left her she made the loudest noise of the night.

"AAAAAAAAA....Don't stop.  Fuck me.  Please fuck me!  Oh! Please
sir come in me.  Please!"  She nearly screamed.

"Then keep that cunt where I can reach it."  I tell her in a
commanding voice.  I watch as she pulls and wrenches her body
moving it back to the position she started in and then humps that
suburb ass trying to get something into her.

"Please sir, fuck me."  She pleads in a much quiter voice, but
still with an edge of desperation in it.

"Why should I?"  I ask her, to tease her a little longer, and
because I want to see what she will answer.

A short pause and she answers.  "To make me yours sir."

"You want me to own you?  To control your sex life completely? 
To train you to please a master?"

"Oh!  Yes!  Make me yours now.  Please master."  She almost cried
the words.

I started as before, my left hand on the small of her back just
above the crack of her ass, my right guiding my cock into her
cunt, which seemed even tighter this time.  This time instead of
placing my hands on my hip when the head was in I grab her hip
bones and use them as handles to slam her cunt onto my cock.
There is no stopping this time.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!"  She grunts out with each slap of my belly against
her ass.  I'm not trying to hold back any longer, no more
teasing.  It's time to cum!

"Cum for me slut.  Cum now."  I shout at her when I feel my balls
tighten and the head of my dick starts to feel like it's going to
explode.  Her cunt starts to spasm around my cock, squeezing on
the out stroke like it's afraid my cock will get away again. 
That's it.  I feel like my whole insides are pouring out of my
cock and into her belly, and it just will not stop.  I swear that
I came for more than two minutes, nonstop.

I found myself collapsed on top of her, trying to suck all the
air in the room into my starving lungs, sometime later as my mind
started to function again I realized she was saying something
between her own heaving breaths.  At first I couldn't make out
the words but as she began to get some control again they became
clearer.

"Thank you sir... Oh thank you... Thank you sir."  She was
repeating over and over.

END OF BEGINNING. 

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