I can feel it welling up inside of me as I drive home. The frustration, the craziness... There is no reason for it; my day at work was slow and relatively uneventful. But there is a tight knot in my gut filled with vapors of malevolence that begins to unfurl and fill my body. Quickly, I press buttons on the radio in an attempt to find music to soothe me before I get home to you. Nothing seems to work and I become more frustrated with the world, with nothing...
Opening the door to our home, I fling my bag to the sofa, followed by my coat. I storm into the fully equipped kitchen for something to eat. No. Something to drink. I look in the fridge for the remainder of the white wine from last night's dinner. Then I decide I want something stronger. Pulling out the bottle of tequila from our trip to Mexico, I try to wedge the cork out. Unsuccessful, I use my teeth.
Something stops me. Looking around, I see you watching me. I know that you have witnessed my entire tirade. "Bad day, angel?" You easily twist the cork out of the neck of the bottle. "No, I am just... ticked for some reason." Angry now, I put on my cold, professional demeanor; the attitude that makes men move quickly out of my way. But not you. I brush past you to the leave the kitchen and am brought up short by your fist in my hair. Tugging me backwards against your chest, you whisper softly in my ear, "I see, mija. You are just being a bitch." I am not fooled by your soft tone. You are the one who is pissed now. But the wickedness has me its grip as well. So I struggle against your hold, spitting like a cat. Your hand tightens in my hair, yanking my head back. The strength and power of your body makes my cunt pulse, releasing a gush of fluid into my already damp crotch. You twist my suit skirt up to my waist, exposing the lingerie you laid out for me just that morning. I hear a metallic grind that tells me you have removed a knife from the butcher's block. A breath later the metal is against my skin, tracing the curves of my body.
"You wanna fight, bitch? Let's fight. I will win. I will always... fucking...win." I gasp as you slice through the strings of my panties and rip them from between my thighs. Cool air kisses my swollen lips as you plunge your long fingers into me. I slump forward when your teeth bite hard into the base of my neck. Sucking, pulling...
Wrenching your hand out of me, you pinch my clit between your fingers, jerking it like a miniature cock. I moan. "You are such a slut. You love me jacking you off. Yanking on this little clit." Your hand speeds up, moving faster on my slick flesh. You know my body's movements so well that you stop just as I am approaching the crest of orgasm. I try to press myself against you, begging for the release I need so badly.
The air whooshes out of my lungs as you slam my back against the wall. Dazed, I cannot care as you tear open my blouse to expose my heavy breasts in their next-to-nothing bra. A slash brings the lush, creamy mounds spilling forward. Your fingers pinch and twist my nipples; your mouth suckles mercilessly at my tits as my pussy continues to leak thick cream. Something hard is pressed against my mouth, forcing my lips open. You pour a healthy slug of tequila down my throat. "Swallow it, whore. Just like you'll be swallowing my cum when I pump it down your throat." The liquor hits my stomach like a punch, spreading fire through me. I shudder violently as you lift me, bend me face first over the stainless steel island in the middle of our kitchen.
The blood is rushing to my head. Just as I think about moving, your palm smacks my round ass. Again. Harder. "You are already in deep shit, cunt. Struggling will just make it worse." I wait as you remove my black pumps. You pull on the straps of my garter belt one by one and let the elastic go with a snap against my cheeks. Pale pink lines form before you stop and remove my stockings. You secure my left wrist and ankle to the island with one leg of the hose, then give me another spank before restraining my right side. I know that you can smell my exposed pussy as you tie the knots.
You are moving around, opening cabinets and drawers and I tremble with fear. Finally, I see your boots in front of my downcast eyes. "You are going to learn what happens when you try to give me that bitchy attitude over nothing. I don't take it from you. But you will take it from me." Moving to my ass, you part my cheeks wide and insert a tube. The scent of olive oil surrounds me as you squeeze the bulb of the turkey baster. Your fingers join the tube, pushing deeply into my tight hole. I find myself lifting my ass, pushing it back onto your probing fingers and the stroking tube. My pussy drips onto the table top, making my movements easier.
"Slut. You fucking sexy bitch. You are mine. Mouth, pussy, ass... Whenever and whatever I want. Do you understand?" Removing the instrument, your fingers work my asshole deeply, spreading me until I think I will split apart. "Yes, Master." I sob with the pleasure and pain of it. "Did you forget your place? Forget who I am to you?"
"Never, Master." You take your fingers from me before you speak again. "I'm going to put this citrus juicer in your tight little brown ass. I expect to see your pussy juicing when I do."
I can barely breathe as you begin to push the tip in. Groaning, I try to relax as the widest part of the tool enters me. You fuck me with it, twisting and turning so that I feel the pronounced ridges and grooves scraping my oiled tissues. My pussy spasms, jealous of the thorough penetration you are giving my ass. Honey trickles out of my engorged slit.
"I bet that cunt wants to be fucked now, doesn't it?" I hesitate a heartbeat too long and receive a firm pinch on the clit for my trouble. "Yes, Master, please." Shoving the probing juicer deep, you release the slick handle and stand in front of me. Lifting my head by my hair, you unzip your fly. I lick my lips in anticipation of tasting your hot flesh. "Don't you dare let that slip out of you. No matter what happens, you keep it in until I remove it." I nod eagerly and open my mouth as you shove your huge meat down my throat. I give the best head I can with you pummeling my mouth. Hollowing out my cheeks as I suck, I keep your cock wet with saliva. You so love the look of me bound for your pleasure that your balls begin to tighten. Pulling out of my mouth with a pop, you smack my face with your stiff cock. "No, you little cum slut. You do not get to taste Master's cum yet."
My pussy is soaked, juices matting my abundant hair to my cunt lips. You push a rolled up towel under my stomach to lift my hips. In deep, husky tones, you tell me you are going to eat me. In actuality, you voraciously devour me. Biting and sucking on my distended clit. Sucking each lip in your mouth and stretching it out long. You tug sharply on the hairs while you shove your thick tongue deep into my gushing, sensitive hole to scoop out my creamy nectar. Reaching under me, you pull back the hood of my aching clit. Your tongue flicks rapidly and insistently across my exposed, raw clit. Suddenly, you yank the juicer from my ass. I cum over and over again squirting fluid while I scream and beg for mercy; but you have none. Your tongue doesn't rest. Only when you are done with your feast do you explain, "That's the treatment a slut with a sugar -sweet pussy gets from her Master."
Before I can take a breath, you ferociously ram your hard cock into my cunt. Your pounding makes my already bruised clit take brutal friction from the table edge. Tears pour from my eyes as I screech in blissful agony. Eons pass as you wildly pump into me, grabbing handfuls of my skirt to keep me in place on the now slick table. Abruptly, you pull out of my stinging hole, barely making it to my mouth in time to shoot streams of cum into my jaws.
Vaguely, I hear your footsteps leaving the kitchen. When you return, you use the knife again to cut through the hose binding my ankles and wrists. Lifting me in your arms, you carry me to the bathroom and set my used, tender body in a tub of scented bubbles. Gently, you pull my now limp hair from my neck and secure it with a clip. I slowly return to full awareness while you bathe me, and whisper, "I love you, Master."
Originally published October 2007 - "Kink"