Master Shares His slave: The Beginning, fiction short-story

“Spread your legs wider for me whore.”

The sonorous tone of Master’s voice belied his use of vulgar words. My knees naturally fell to the mattress. I lay there my arms spread apart, leather cuffs covered my wrists, shackling me to the footboard. Black nylon rope encircled my ankles and thighs restraining my legs. I took a moment to wiggle my hips finding a more comfortable position on the black velvet wedge beneath my ass, waiting for further instructions.

He motioned the men closer. They shuffled into my line of vision. Four guys moved toward the head of the bed, eyeing my exposed cunt. They were naked, not just their bodies, but their desire filled faces along with their hard dicks exposed their need.

Automatically my pussy clenched. An ache and emptiness that could only be fulfilled by being fucked. Master sat down on the bed, gripped my chin in his hand, jerking my face toward him. Of course, he never made anything easy. No quick fuck from the men lined up to use me per Master’s desire. He knew what I wanted. But he would permit my desires in his own time. “Mmm, I like the way you obey me slut. And you want to obey me, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.” My reply didn’t need thought. By now it was rote but by no means against my will. It was difficult to lie still, and I didn’t try very hard. Not because Master had bound me to the bed half an hour ago. Prepared my body, changing the nipple rings to bars with a full circle shield around it. A thick captive bead septum ring replaced the small piercing I wore daily. Then there were the outer labia piercings. The rings were not anything special, thick small gauge captive beads, but the lace he added, tying it into a bow near my mons closed my clit off to any direct stimulation. Anticipation of the night’s activities, not pain, made it impossible not to move.

“I want you to tell these men what I have planned for you tonight.” His voice dropped an octave as well as the volume.

I clenched my eyes shut and bit my lip. It was his game. The one we played when he brought other men into his playroom. The ache between my thighs spread through my entire body. Tame as a kitty cat until Master unleashed the lioness. When he did, she devoured me in a grip of desire so strong I feared sometimes she would break free from Master’s control. I shouldn’t worry. Master bound her to him more tightly than the leash he kept me on.

Master didn’t push, waited patiently for me to speak. It meant nothing. Soon the words he wanted to hear would spill from my mouth.

Admitting my darkest desires to Master was easy. We’re kindred spirits in our kinks, fetishes. But to confess all to the men waiting to use me was humiliating. I squirmed. Pussy juice ran down my crack. I loved a little humiliation. And seeing there were more men waiting for their turn with me meant some had to stand and watch. My nipples tightened. My breath shortened. The waiting was more than I could stand.

Would I come without permission? Master has trained his slave well. That training included me becoming wet when he speaks of being used by other men. Exposing my desire with his words. Would I fail Master?

“Tell them you want to be used, to have their cocks in my pussy, mouth, ass. To feel their cocks swell and pulsate; for them to spill their hot, black seed inside all my holes.”

I darted my gaze toward the men. They’d heard Master. By the looks on their faces, the increase of breaths, the creak in that certain place on the hardwood floor, the shuffle of feet. They were restless.

I could help relieve their need. If only I could touch, I shifted as if I tried to scoot closer just an inch or so, longing to feel the brush of an engorged member against my thigh. Wanting them didn’t lessen my embarrassment. But, the slight tap of fingers on my check brought my attention back to Master. “Tell them, whore.”

“M…Master.” I licked my lips, took a breath, and began again. “Master is sharing me with you tonight.”

“You can do better than that,” he interjected.

I heard a slight edge in his tone. “Umm, Master wants you to fuck my…”

“Mine, whore.” His finger slid down my cheek and neck; down to my nipple where he took the taut bud between his finger and thumb and pinched.

“Try again.” He added more pressure. But leaned in, brushed his lips against my ear, whispering, “Baby, you know saying the words will please me.”

“Yes, Master.” I breathed the words out on a sigh and arched into the pain, craving more from the man who owns me. He pulled his hand away. I jerked my gaze toward him. As usual, I was caught in his stare. A knowing smirk filled his face. Strangely it bolstered my nerves. This wasn’t about being used by these men. Not really. Yes, it turned both Master and me on. More so, it was about Master’s control and giving his slave what she needed.

Staring into Master’s eyes, I cleared my throat and said, “Master is giving you men a special treat tonight. You get to use his slave for your gratification. He wants you to fuck my pussy, mouth, ass, doing your best to pleasure me with your cocks, fingers, tongues. But—” I paused and smiled at Master. I don’t know what he saw. I know what my intention was. My smile let him know he was in control. I trusted him with my body and life because he was here. He never left me to go through this alone, wouldn’t let anything happen to his slave. Whatever he saw, he was pleased.

Peace settled over me and my voice grew stronger. I continued, “I won’t come. Master is letting you use me. I’m a slut. His whore. I come when he allows it. And tonight, I’ve been instructed to not come. Try your hardest. Give me everything you’ve got. Don’t hold back. If I come, he’ll punish me. But I won’t.”

With every fiber of my being, I stated with pride. “I only come for Master.”

This post is in parts. As noted in the title this is just the beginning.


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