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Unorthodox


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Entry 1

I parked my car in the third spot in the garage, touching the new fob attached to my dashboard and listening to the gentle hum of the garage door closing. This was it; I was in my new home.

I pulled my luggage out of the trunk, hefting a bag onto why shoulder just as the door to the house opened and my Master walked through. My breath caught as I looked at him, as it did every time I saw him. He was an impressive figure standing 6'5" with broad shoulders, a trim waist, a chiseled jaw, and gray hair. His skin was tanned from hours spent outside at the pool or golfing, and his bright blue eyes twinkled when he saw me.

"Nora," he breathed, his arms opening wide, and I grinned, dropping the bag and running to him, throwing myself at his chest, seeking affection and protection in his embrace. He held me to him and lifts my chin, kissing my lips, my body responding immediately, pressing against him. Despite the age gap, this man knew how to work my body into a frenzy unlike anything I've every experienced.

"Come, my sweet little girl," he said, finally releasing me and picking up my heavy bag and grabbing the rolling suitcase. I followed him into the house, him leading the way through winding hallways and up stairs until we entered an elegantly decorated bedroom in vivid greens, blues, and golds. He placed my luggage against the wall and showed me the large walk-in closet and private bathroom attached to my new bedroom. I nodded, paying attention as he talked about where towels and linens were stored.

"Thank you, Master," I said demurely when he finished, lowering my eyes the way I knew he adored. He cupped my cheek, stroking my soft skin and again lifted my chin.

He looked into my eyes and said, "I long to fuck you, my little slut, but I have an important call that is coming through in five minutes. Unpack. I will join you soon."

He kissed me and left, and I obediently began to unpack my luggage.

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I first met Master when I was a student in his business class at the university I attended. The handsome 65-year-old captured my attention during class, and before and after it, too. I obsessed over him, watching him when I thought he didn't see me. I wanted so badly to get his attention, but the gold ring on his left hand ring finger told me that he was off limits.

We had just finished our lecture for the day, and the professor returned our latest exams. Mine, although marked, had no score written, but there was a note: Please see me during my office hours.

Curious, I made my way to the professor's office later that day, knocking lightly on the door. He bid me enter, and I did so, closing the door behind me.

The office was dark except for a sliver of natural light streaming through the blind-covered windows and a small lap in the corner of the room. Books lined two of the four walls, and a large desk took up most of the space.

"Lock the door, Miss Wells," he said, and the tendril of dominance I heard in his voice created an automatic response in my body, my hand flipping the lock behind me.

"Yes, Sir," I replied, and I turned back to face him, standing still in the spot. The older man smiled and nodded, pleased with my obedience, and my heart warmed in pleasure.

He watched me, considering, and I remained still, and then he stared at me and ordered, "Strip."

I blinked, but my body responded, pulling my T-shirt over my head and wiggling out of my blue jeans. I unfastened my bra and dropped it onto the floor, and then I rolled my panties down, standing in the center of the office...naked. I lowered my head, blushing, suddenly nervous.

He just stared at me for a few minutes, and I began to tremble. What I feared was that he was no longer interested; he stood, walking toward me. He surveyed me, walking around me slowly, appraising my bare body before him. My heart pounded in my chest, and I felt my pussy begin to ache. The blush in my cheek deepened. I was aroused, something I'd experienced before, despite my virgin state.

At 21-years old, I was the oldest virgin in my sorority. My sorority sisters were divided, some complimenting me on taking my time and others acting as though I were from another planet.

The professor reached out, cupping my breast, lifting it as though he were weighing it. He massaged and groped, stroking my soft skin. My breath quickened, and I looked up at him from beneath my eyelashes.

He dropped my breast and said, "Kneel for me," and I obeyed, dropping to my knees. He nodded and wrapped a fist around the base of my ponytail, tugging it until I looked up into his face.

"You are a natural submissive, my little girl," he said, his voice praising me. "I am pleased with that." He moved away from me, going over to a chair and tugging off his tie. He tossed it on the back of the chair and said, "Go to the desk, place your hands in the center of it, and bend over, arching your back and lifting your bottom."

"Yes, Sir," I replied standing quickly and going to his desk. I placed my palms flat on the center of the desk, standing on tiptoes to reach. I arched my back and lifted my full bottom. I remained in this position for quite some time, and then I felt him slide his arms around my body from behind. He fondled my breasts, jiggling them until they bounced, and I giggled, feeling excitement in his embarace.

I heard the whir of his zipper and the clanking of his buckle, and then I felt his cock slide along my pussy lips. My heart pounded in my chest. He was going to fuck my virgin pussy.

He traced my pussy lips with his cock, the tip hitting the aroused bundle of nerves there. I whimpered, and then he used his knee to part my thighs. I felt fingers cup my mound, and I sighed as he parted my lower lips, and then I felt the head of his cock slip into me. I moaned gently, and then I felt him pull out, missing him inside of me already. Without warning, he thrust in deep, pushing past my virgin barrier and sinking deep inside her velvet petals.

I screamed, stunned by the pain and the sudden fullness in my body, and he remained still, his breathing ragged, his head pressed against my shoulder blades.

"I'm sorry for not asking if you were a virgin," he finally said, his voice deep. "I would have been gentler if I'd known."

I shook my head, looking over my shoulder at him. "Please, Sir, I am fine. Please just...just..." I searched for the right word...

"Just fuck you," he finished, growling his words in my ear, and he pulled back only to ram in deep again. Over and over he thrust into my willing pussy, and then he stilled, pulling back one last time. He gripped my hair, tugging my head backward, and he licked my neck just as he thrust in hard. I cried out, my back arching. Over and over, he rammed into me, his assault on my pussy sending my hormones into overdrive. Suddenly, he jerked, pulling back, and then rammed in deeper than before, shooting hot spurts of cum into my cunt.

I screamed, my body convulsing under his, and I joined him in release, our juices mingling as our bodies collapsed in a heap.

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I smiled at the memory, stowing my panties in the top drawer of the dresser. In the weeks since he took my virginity, I'd learned to call him Master, to follow his every command, to be his willing, adoring submissive. And last night, I became his slave.

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Entry Two

I hummed a happy tune as I unpacked, neatly hanging my clothing in the large closet, placing my toiletries in the bathroom, and plugging my phone charger in the bedside outlet. I took out my computer, answered a few e-mails, finished a writing assignment for another class, and checked the news before putting it aside and stretching out on the large bed. I closed my eyes, thinking back to our early days, smiling as I did so. 

After that first time, I didn't see him or hear from him again, except in class, for a week. I worried that he was going to hold it against me while simultaneously wanted to sob because he hadn't called me. I hated that I was so emotional, but when class ended a week later, he dropped a note on my desk instructing me to meet him in his office in 15 minutes. I rushed to the restroom, nervously dashing water into my face. My hands trembled, and I felt a needy ache between my thighs. When I had only a moment to spare, I scurried to his office, entering when he said, "Come in."

I obeyed, closing the heavy door behind me once again, and this time, he was standing, waiting. Without being told, I locked the door, and he motioned for me to come closer. In front of him was a yoga mat. 

"Kneel," he ordered, and I obeyed, dropping to my knees obediently. He grunted and walked around me, moving my arms and legs, pressing my back and my head until I was in the pose he desired.

"This is the proper pose for a submissive when she joins her dominant," he said in low tones, and a tremor of hope crept through me. I did not reply, for he had not asked a question, and when he moved to stand in front of me, I saw his pleased smile.

"If you were my slave, you would always strip upon entering and kneel naked before me," he said, and my heart stuttered then skipped into overdrive. "For now, you are my submissive." He proceeded to tell me what that entailed, and he explained that my life was my own, except when we were together. I looked up at him with trust-filled eyes. Already, I was under his spell.

The next few weeks were a blur. We met three days a week, during which time he would instruct me in submission, work me up into a sexual frenzy, make me beg to cum, and then cuddle with me after. One day when he held me in his lap after fucking me hard against the wall, I stroked his gold ring and asked him about it.

He paused, looking down at it, then explained, "Yes, I am married, little one."

I stiffened, my fears crashing down on me. I had dared to hope that he was a widower, but no, he was a married man.

"My wife and I married when we were quite young, and I had not yet realized that I need to Dominate to feel completely whole," he began, talking about his beloved wife, Karen, and how she was a kind, loving woman with purely vanilla tastes. When he realized what he craved, he didn't want to hurt her by leaving, so he asked her to join him in his fantasies. She tried, but she was too scared to completely let go, and soon, she refused to take part in any of it. She begged him not to leave her, and he loved her, so he said he'd stay. He suppressed his desires for many years, and together they raised a family. A few years ago, however, he'd gone on a business trip and been invited to a BDSM club by a colleague. He attended, and every desire he'd buried so long ago came roaring back. He didn't participate in any scenes that night because he didn't want to be unfaithful to his wife, but when he returned home, he sat down with her and told her he needed more.

She was shocked that he still had these desires, and she sobbed, pleading with him to stay with her. He asked her to try to submit again, but she was too scared, and then she made a statement that startled him.

"If you want to have a submissive, I won't say a word," the woman had said. When he asked what she meant, she continued, "Find a submissive for you to fulfill those desires with. Meet with her away from home, at a club, in your office, a few times a week. But keep it just that, just a Dominant and a submissive. Nothing more. And always come home to me, love me. Please." She'd cried as she explained her idea, and he was touched by the selflessness she showed with her offer. 

At first, he did not take on a submissive, instead going to clubs to learn more about this Lifestyle, and then 10 years ago, he took on a sub. They remained together for a year, and then he released her and took another. During the past 10 years, he'd had eight different subs at different times, always honoring his wife's request.

I nodded when he finished his story. "So, I'm the ninth," I said simply.

"You are," he replied, stroking my hair. I closed my eyes, resting my head on his chest, my heart pounding. So, this was definitely just a temporary arrangement. He would use me until he was tired of me, and then he would let me go. Tears burned behind my eyes, but I didn't let them fall. Instead, I gently pulled myself from his arms and began to dress, making excuses as I did so.

"I have a study group in an hour, and I should get home to change," I explained, slipping my dress over my head after I put my bra and panties on. 

He stood, tugging his trousers on and fastening them at his waist.

"Little one," he said sternly, and I paused in my nervousness. He walked behind me, wrapping his arm around my waste, and he kissed the back of my neck. "You are a very special young woman."

I nodded, too overcome to speak, and then I silently left his office.

The next day, his class was canceled, and he didn't contact me for several days after that. Then last night when I was readying myself for bed, I heard a knock on my front door. I opened it cautiously, surprised to see him there. He'd never come to my apartment before.

"Let me in, little one," he said, and I obeyed. He took me in his arms and kissed me deeply, passionately, and I clung to him, tears falling down my cheeks. 

"Show me your bedroom," he growled, and I obeyed, guiding him to the room in the back of the apartment that I shared with three other girls. 

He made slow, leisurely love to me on my bed that night, and when we finished, we dozed. He woke me a few hours later by sliding into my pussy again, and when I gazed up into his eyes, I noticed him staring at my neck. That's when I felt it. I reached up, and I felt a cool piece of metal encircling my neck. 

He pulled out of me then and stood. "Kneel."

I climbed out of my bed, trembling, unsure what the future held, just knowing that I wanted this. I knelt at his feet in the pose I had now mastered.

"Do you accept my collar, girl, and all of the consequences of having it on your neck?" he asked, his face fierce.

I swallowed a lump in my throat and nodded, my voice quaking as I answered, "Y...y...yes, Master, I accept your collar. Thank you."

He smiled then, a smile so warm and loving that my heart felt as though it would burst. He bent me forward and fucked me then, hard, fast, fiercely, using me as he hadn't in so long, taking his pleasure. When he spent himself in me, he pulled me into his lap and helped me to my own climax, and then I slept in his arms for the first time. 

The next morning, he explained that during the days he was gone, he was discussing his arrangement with his wife. He told her that he could no longer keep his lives separate and that if she still wanted him to be her husband, he wanted his submissive to become his slave and live in their house. She was angry at first, but after days of talking, she agreed. I was to move in later that day.

I nibbled my bottom lip, thinking about his wife. I can't help but feel a pang of sorrow for her, but I'm scared to meet her. I know she'll probably hate me on sight. I just hope that she doesn't try to make me miserable.

My door opened suddenly, and I sat up straight, relaxing when I see Him.

"Greetings, beloved Master," I said, sliding off of the bed and kneeling on the floor. He chuckled, yanking me up by the arms and pulling me into an embrace. He kissed me deeply, biting my bottom lip. "You've forgotten, slave. How should you be dressed?

My eyes opened wide, and I gasped. "You want me to be nude at all times in your house...around your wife? What if your kids stop by?"

He laughed, cupping my ass through my jeans, squeezing it. "No, just in your room. Always strip when you enter so that if I come in, you are ready for me. If my kids come to the house, you're a college student renting this room."

I nodded, smiling up at him, and then I began to remove my clothing, tugging my T-shirt off and wiggling out of my jeans. He watched, approval in his eyes, as I pulled off my bra and panties then knelt again, the glint of my collar obvious against my naked skin.

He ran his fingers over the collar and then cupped my chin, lifting it. "I love seeing my little slut naked and on her knees in front of me," he said, he voice gravelly. "Suck my cock, slut."

With bold eyes and a smile on my lips, I replied, "Yes, Master," and I lowered his zipper.

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  • 3 weeks later...

Entry Three

"Diane is expecting you to join us for dinner," he said, tucking his shirt neatly into his trousers and fasting his pants. 

I started, nervous about meeting my Master's wife for the first time. She hadn't been in the house when I'd arrived, and I was secretly dreading this part of living with the man who held my heart. As though he read my mind, he joined me in the bathroom where I was drying off from my shower. After pleasing my master on my knees, he'd rewarded me by making me cum with his expert tongue and then joined me in the shower to clean up. Silently, he wrapped his arms around me, and I leaned back against him, our eyes meeting in the foggy mirror.

"I know you're scared, little one," he said gently, caressing my arms, his lips on my wet hair. "I will not deny that this will be awkward for both of you, and I know I needn't tell you to be kind to Diane. This is extremely difficult for her."

Heat suffused my cheeks, and my eyes dropped. My voice came out softly, "I understand, Master. That's why I'm so nervous. I know that by loving you, submitting to you, serving you, I'm hurting her. I...," I paused, inhaling slowly, trying to calm down, blinking back hot tears. "I don't like hurting people."

His arms tightened around me, and he kissed the side of my neck as he pushed the thick towel onto the floor. He groped my breasts, caressing and massaging them as he murmured against my skin.

"That's why I love you, little one," he replied between kisses. "Your innate goodness is intoxicating."

My heart sped up at his words, its beat roaring in my ears like a waterfall. I swallowed a lump of emotion and inhaled deeply, a tear falling down my cheek. His thumb immediately swiped my tear away, and I opened my eyes again in time to see him lick the tear from his finger.

"Now, dress in the white dress I picked out for you, my sweet girl," he said, caressing my cheek again before moving toward the door. "Dinner is in half an hour."

He left after that, and I took a moment to collect myself before scurrying around the rooms to dress in the filmy white garment he'd purchased for me to wear the first evening in my new home. I dried my hair, put a minimal amount of makeup on, and slid the delicate fabric over my lithe body, knowing full well that the outline of my nipples was obvious. Master had said I was to wear clothing in the other rooms of the house, but no panties were allowed except when I was on my monthly cycle. Bras were never allowed, except for when I was in public.

I slipped on the pair of heels he had chosen, and I stood before a full length mirror to gauge the effect. My long, dark hair hung in waves and touched my shoulder blades. The hint of mascara and touch of lip gloss enhanced my almond-shaped chocolate eyes and full lips, and the dress hugged my body in the bodice and fell from my waist in a gentle sway, reminiscent of dresses in the 1950s. The effect was charming at first glance, but a closer inspection would speak of my arousal, from the pointed embossment of my nipples, to my kiss-swollen lips, to the thin collar around my throat. I smiled when I looked at the collar, and I lovingly caressed its cold rose gold band. Master had clasped it around my neck fewer than 24 hours ago, and I had not removed it, nor did I intend to. It was delicate and dainty, something that I could pass off as a choker around my vanilla friends and family, but both he and I knew what it truly was and what it symbolized. I touched it as a talisman, and immediately I calmed. I could do this.

When I arrived at the dinner table, Master stood and greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and a gentle squeeze of my bottom. I blushed, knowing his wife was watching, and I kept my eyes downcast.

"Darling, I want you to meet the special young woman I've told you so much about," he said, turning me to face the woman across the table. "Diane, this is my slave, Nora. Little one, please meet my beloved wife, Diane."

Unsure what to do or say, and smiled shyly at the older woman, but her severe expression did little to alleviate my fears. "It's nice to meet you," I said, barely above a whisper. She nodded curtly in response and indicated I should sit.

Obediently, I sat in the seat across from her, and Master gently tucked my chair in after me before sitting at the head of the table between us. Nervously, I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear before saying inanely, "You have a lovely home, Mrs. Collins."

"Thank you," came her succinct response, and a hesitant glance at her face again, told me that the last thing she wanted to do was speak to me, so I bit my bottom lip and resolved to keep to myself.

Dinner was uncomfortable, but Master was his charming self, including us both in the conversation, explaining who people were if they came up in conversation between him and his wife. Through it all, though, I began to feel smaller and smaller, much like Alice after she imbibed in the "Drink Me" potion. When the meal was over, I offered to clean up, but his wife refused, and I decided to explore the house instead.

I walked through the first floor, enjoying the elegant colors and adornments throughout, but when I reached the room that was no doubt Master's office, I couldn't help but grin at the masculine decor. It embodied him, from the dark leather chairs to the stark, no-nonsense furniture. I began looking through the bookshelves, my fingers running over the spines, when I heard the door open, and I felt my master's presence before I heard his voice.

"Why do I always become aroused at the sight of you in an office, my little slut?" he teasingly asked. As though his voice had a direct connection to my pussy, I felt my womanhood quiver, and I turned to him, smiling brightly. His eyes were dark as they stared at me, seeing through the gauzy garment, boring into my soul. I dropped to my knees from the intensity of his stare, getting into the position he'd taught me months before. His eyes flamed in desire, and I saw his cock rise in his pants. He stalked toward me, his movements deliberate and determined, and then wrapped a hand around my neck, his thumb rubbing my collar.

"Who do you belong to, little slut?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

"This slut belongs to you, Master," I replied, my own quaking with excitement at this acknowledgement. I belonged to him, just as surely as this house belonged to him. He could use me, he could hurt me, he could heal me. Whatever he wanted for me, it would be. I'd promised that by accepting his collar, and I trusted him to take care of me. 

"Yes, she does," he said, almost absentmindedly. HIs other hand groped one of my breasts through my dress, rubbing my aroused nipple until his could cut glass and then pinching it. I inhaled sharply, and he smiled, rubbing and pinching my other nipple. The pulse between my legs quickened, and I felt moisture seep from between my lower lips. 

Abruptly, Master let go of my neck and nipple and walked around his desk. He sat in the leather chair and opened a drawer, pulling out a small black box, which he placed on the surface of the desk. 

"I don't have a playroom set up here, little one," he said, pulling a long rope and a crop out of his desk drawer. He placed them beside the box, and I swallowed, excited and nervous for what was to come. "I have always done scenes at my club. However, now that you are here, perhaps it is time to convert the basement into our playroom. Diane and I hardly use the space now that our kids are grown."

He stood, walking around the desk and facing me again. He wrapped his hands around my hair, forming a ponytail, and tugged it back, forcing me to look up at him. "Tell me what you want, my little slut."

Heart pounding, I licked my lips, knowing that he was not ready to give me what I wanted, but I had to tell him anyway. Those were the rules, and I obeyed rules. 

"I want you to fuck me, Master, please," I said, my voice dropping 

Instead of speaking, he pulled my hair upward, guiding me to stand. He released my hair and wrapped his hands around my waist, lifting me and sitting me on his desktop. 

"I will fuck you, my little slut," he said, looking into my eyes. "I will fuck you when you're begging for it, when you're so aroused that you can't see straight. And when I fuck you, I'm going to shoot my load of cum deep inside your pretty little pussy." He yanked up my skirt, revealing my shaved womanhood, and he gently spread my thighs. "Because it's my pussy, slut. I own it. I claimed it when I took your virginity." As if to punctuate his words, he grabbed my fleshy cunt, squeezing it. My body instantly responded, and my thighs tightened, hips moving upward, wanting so much more. 

"Tell me it's my pussy, slut," he growled, spearing my fleshy folds with one thick digit.

Panting, I obeyed, "It's...it's your pussy, Master. It's your pussy, your body, your mind, your should. All of me is yours."

"It is, slut," he responded, his other hand sliding up my torso and running over my breasts before sinking his fingers into my collar. "You are mine." With one strong movement, he yanked the collar, tearing it down the bodice so that my full breasts spilled out. He lowered his lips to one nipple and suckled, teasing and tormenting it with his mouth until it was swollen and pointing outward. He reached behind me and opened the black box, pulling out a metal object and clamping it onto my nipple. I whimpered, uncomfortable, but then he was sucking my other nipple, teasing it to full arousal and then clamping an object on it. My breath came out thready as I struggled to get a grip on the pain, and once again, he squeezed my cunt.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Entry 4

Several weeks passed much like the first day. I went to school during the day, participated in my sorority's events, and in the evenings, I returned home to Master. His wife avoided me, and I avoided her. I didn't hate her or even resent her behavior. I sympathized and felt guilt whenever I saw her. I hated the fact that my presence made her miserable in her own home. Yet those hours spent with Master in my bedroom and his study were the most fulfilling of my life. Sometimes he took me to his Club for scenes, and we were able to be completely free there, not subconsciously worrying that an angry wife would barrel through the door. During one particular evening at the club, Master and some of his friends were in deep conversation.

I was wearing a leather thong and bra, heels, and Master had attached a leash to my collar so that I was never far out of His reach. I knelt beside him, eyes downcast so as not to catch another Dom's attention, when I a Dom I'd never met before entered the club. Master greeted him as an old friend, and I earned his name was Sir Isaac. The man was dark skinned and on the plump side, but he pulled on leashes two of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. One was Asian and the other white with nearly white hair, and neither wore anything except heels and their collars. They sat across from my Master and me, and the slaves immediately began to pleasure their master's cock, groping each other as they did so. My cheeks burned, for even though I'd seen a lot of sexual activity at the club, something about the way the dark master kept glancing at me made me uncomfortable.

Unconsciously, I scooted closer to Master's side, and he responded immediately, caressing my back to reassure me. I smiled gently, grateful that He understood how I was feeling and cared enough to show me that I had nothing to fear. Master had made it very clear to me that there would be no sharing of his slave, his property, that my body belonged to him alone.  I felt safe and protected there, despite my near nakedness.

"Which of my sluts will you take for a round with your pretty little whore, Jacob?" the dark master asked my owner. My entire body turned cold, and I felt my heart stutter in my chest as the stranger leered at me.

I felt a wave of nausea overtake me, and I closed my eyes, willing my body to calm down. Master would protect me. I was safe.

"Your slaves are truly exquisite, Isaac," came my master's calm reply, "and I am gratified to know that you rank my own little slut with the likes of their beauty. However, this little one is special to me. Her holes have been filled by no man but me, and I intend to keep it that way."

The dark master laughed, his blubbery belly jiggling, and he pinched his blonde slave's nipple, tugging it. "A unicorn, then? How did you find a virgin? They're rare, that's for sure," he said, grinning down at me. "Very well, then. Give me a peek, at least, Jacob. You could at least do that for an old friend."

Master said nothing, but he gripped my hair and pulled me up onto His lap. He looked into my eyes as though to reassure me, and then he turned me to face the Sir Isaac as I sat on Master's lap. Yanking the center string of my thong aside, Master pulled my legs wide, his hands guiding me to lifting my hips. He bared my pussy to the stranger, and a sheen of lust covered the man's face. I trembled, nervous but excited, and Master spread my pussy lips with his fingers, showing the stranger my folds. I was wet, aroused just by being near Master, and as the stranger stared into my cunt, more seeped from my womanhood. Master kissed my shoulders and nibbled at my neck, and then he began to rub the glistening pearl between my lower lips. I gasped, my body responding immediately, and my hips moved against his hand.

Master chuckled, slapping my pussy lips. "Remain still, little one," he murmured in my ear, and I obeyed, my body stilling immediately, enduring his teasing torture against my clit. My breathing became ragged, my body flushed with excitement, and my eyes burned in arousal as Master toyed with me in front of the stranger. My head fell back against Master's shoulder, and my pussy clenched when he slipped two fingers into my folds, his thumb flicking my clit. A soft whimper escaped my lips, and Master bit my neck, telling me that he was proud of me. He rubbed my clit faster, his fingers thrusting into my sopping cunt, and my breathing became shallow, fast, erratic as I strained to remain still. 

"God, she's magnificent," came the strangled sound of the dark Master's voice, and I opened my eyelids enough to form slits, looking at him. His cock was hard and high, his slaves working it hard with their lips and hands, but his eyes were zeroed in on my pussy. It was me that he desired, and I felt a surge of power. My pussy tightened around Master's fingers, as though dragging them deeper into my needy hole, and I felt his chest rumble with knowing laughter. He bit my earlobe and whispered, "My beautiful little slut. Cum for me and make that idiot crazy with jealousy and desire. His slaves have nothing on my beautiful Nora."

My body quaked then, and Master tugged at my clit, sending explosions shooting through my nerve endings as my body jerked violently and I screamed out, "Master!" I came in a gushing wave over his hand, my body spasming out of control, slowing only to the sounds of Master gently whispering words of praise and approval in my ear.

When my mind finally cleared away the fog, I opened my eyes, and the dark master was shooting cum on both of his slaves' faces and breasts. They squealed in excitement, but his eyes were still on me, and I saw the desire in them. I averted my own gaze and curled against Master as he turned me and held me in his arms, holding my head against his chest and caressing my skin. 

"I'm proud of you, little one," he murmured in my ear, and I sighed in contentment, feeling loved and safe in his arms. 

"Thank you, Master, for letting me cum," I said softly but loud enough to be heard by the others. A submissive always thanked her dominant, and I wanted Master to be pleased with me. 

"You're welcome, my little slut," came his reply, and he kissed my forehead before lowering back to the floor on my knees.

Master stood then, adjusting his leather pants, and I could see the outline of his hard arousal. Excitement coursed through me, but I kept my face serene. "Isaac, it was good to see you, but I think I'll take my slave into one of the private rooms now." He nodded to the others in the room and led me out of the open room.

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