The Making of Master’s slave

In upcoming posts, I want to share Master’s skill with our readers. We hope you enjoy them.

“Sir, I’m in an office,” I glare at the wall to my right as if I have X-Ray vision. “There are people right outside the door.”

“I know. And it’s Master.”

I let out a huff. More than exasperated. “Master,” I say through clenched teeth.

“Say it again.”


“Because it will become easier each time. Repeat it back to me five times.”

“Master, master, master…”

“Too fast.”


“Before you begin, tighten that pussy and say it like you mean it.”

“Well, aren’t…”

“Think carefully before you finish that statement, sub.”

I press my lips together and take a deep breath then let it out before I answer. “Yes, Master.” I inhale, in and out several more times. I tighten my stomach, my pussy, and answer. “Master— master—” I exhale and reposition my body. “Master— master— master.” I don’t recognize my own voice. I squirm in my seat.

“Turns you on doesn’t it?”

Shaking my head, I wonder how I let him put me in a position to ruin my reputation. But, I obey. “Yes, Master.”

“Now, I want you to pull your pants past your knees. Spread your legs wide. Rub that clit for me until you come.”

I stare at the phone’s screen as if he’s spoken Chinese. His image stares back at me. I added his profile picture to his contact. It’s all I need to forget everything around me but him.

The first pass of my finger over my clit and I forget where I am. “I’m—oh—feels so good.”

His sex-laden chuckle sounds in my ear. “Lay the phone on the desk in front of you, put it on speaker.” He doesn’t wait for me to comply. “Pinch your right nipple and rub your clit with your left forefinger. Rock your hips.”

My breathing becomes labored. In the last month, Sir uh, Master, the word makes me shudder. Fear and want collides with thoughts of utterly belonging to this man. He wakes me in the middle of the night, whispering sex in my ear. Desperate need fills me. To have him between my thighs, impaling me with his cock.

I rock my hips. My fingers fly across the hard nub of my sex, faster, harder.

“Come for me,”

My body tenses. It’s too soon. Normally he counts to three. I clench my pussy, rock my hips furiously rubbing my clit.

“Come. Now.”

My world narrows down to Master’s voice and his words. My mind and body belong to him. One last pass of my fingers over my clit, my body tightens, my breath backs up in my throat, my pussy clenches; and then the sweet release of petite death washes over me. “Master.” My scream echoes off the walls of the small space. I don’t care who hears me. I continue to play with my clit until Master’s voice penetrates my pleasure filled haze. “Push your fingers inside your pussy.”

“Mmm.” I’m ready. My hips move back and forth in the chair, and I’m certain my juices stain the fabric. “Deeper,” he says. “Get those fingers nice and wet.”

Lost in his voice and the oncoming orgasm the meaning of his next words take time to register. “Remove your hand.”

“Master,” I whine when I finally hear him.

“Now, bitch.”

Reluctantly I inch my fingers out of my body, prolonging the separation. It seems they’re permanently infused inside me because my bottom is halfway off the chair before I pull them the rest of the way out.

“Rub your juices on your lips.” I obey. Musk hits my nose. And for the first time, I’m turned on by my own scent. “Now, lick your juices off your fingers.”

I want to run my tongue over my lips but that would be counter to why Master told me to coat them with cum. I open my mouth and insert both fingers. “Mmm.” The moan causes my clit to throb. I clench my pussy, wishing Master would allow me another orgasm.

“Nice and clean.” The change in his tone washes over me. It’s like melting into the arms of a lover, lying on his hard chest but soft and soothing.

“Say thank you Master, slut.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Hmm, I like the sound of that. Get dressed. Don’t wipe your juices off your pussy or lips. I want everyone in that place to know what a slut you are.

“Yes, Master.”

“Say goodbye.”

“Goodbye Master.”


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