Krystenah’s Master and King

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“Do you have any painkillers?” he asked me. My eyes landed on the small bottom of ibuprofen on the bedside table . “Yes, Sir,” I said through the phone. “Better take some now. I’m on my way home,” he said and hung up. I set the phone down and picked up the pill bottle. I didn’t have time to worry if Master was in an angry or playful mood. It might not matter too much either way; it was clear that he intended to wear me out when he got home. I opened the bottle absently as I walked into the kitchen for water. My heart was racing and I felt the familiar flush in my throat and pussy. I had about one half hour to prepare for Master’s arrival. I straightened up and ran the vacuum cleaner. I took a brief shower and shaved the pussy he owns so it was smooth and soft. I toweled myself off completely and attached my doggie collar. I knelt by the front door and waited. When Master unlocked the door and walked in, he ruffled the hair on the top of my head, but said nothing as he walked past me into the house. I knew he was taking an inventory with his eyes. He dropped his keys in the key dish and patted his thigh for me to come to Sarıyer escort his side. I crawled quickly to his side and knelt, my knees apart. He slid his firm hand down my head and tugged on the collar. “Get up, my little bitch, and bring me hairbrush, the plug, the cat, and the bar. You may walk.” “Thank you, Sir,” I said and went to retrieve the items Master wanted. I still could not gauge his mood. I collected the items and wrapped them in a towel and brought them to Master. While I had been collecting the implements, he had collected the soft rope from the pantry as I saw when I walked back into the room. He was unwinding it with a look of concentration and amusement that made me slip one degree deeper in love with him. He glanced over at me and then indicated the bench with his head. I racked my brain for what I had done to be punished on the bench and I couldn’t find anything. I had been working so hard to keep to my routine, to follow Master’s rules and to do so with a cheerful attitude. Nonetheless, I knew there was always vast room for improvement . I knelt on the bench facing Escort Silivri the back. Master had rigged various hooks where he could attach my bound wrists and ankles. I spread my knees and tilted my hips up in an effort to please him. His silence was making me very nervous. After he had tied my hands down, he ran his flat hands along the shivering contours of my body. He kneaded my ass cheeks and ran his nails along the inside of my thighs. When he took his hands away, my thighs clenched in longing for his flesh and anticipation of the brush or cat. He placed the cool smooth back of the wooden brush on the inside of my left foot and ran it up my left leg and down my right. He traced both ass cheeks with it in slow swipes. There was a pause and he placed his left hand on the small of my back. I didn’t feel the first blow until a moment after I heard the bang against the meatiest part of my right ass cheek. He painted the globe from every angle. I never knew when the next blow was coming and I stayed as still as possible, but still wriggled to relieve some of the heat when he focused on Topkapı escort bayan the top part of the cheek. I started to feel the throb in my right side and I wondered how it must look—the right side turning a deep pink and the left untouched and white. He soon corrected that by moving to the other side and spanking the left ass cheek. Again, I couldn’t predict when the next blow would land and the heat grew into a throbbing that radiated through my ass and pussy. I could smell myself growing aroused from the spanking and I still was not sure if I was being punished or not. In all the time Master used the hairbrush on me he said nothing. “Tilt your hips up,” he told me when he stopped, and I tilted them. He reached under me and pressed his fingers into my pussy. “Ohh, so wet, slave. Why are you so wet?” he teased. “Because you spanked this slave’s ass, Master,” I said. “You call that a spanking?” he laughed. “That was just a warm-up.” He continued pressing his fingers inside me and then he drew them out and rubbed the vulva with the flat of his hand. He massaged the labia, tugging on them and then returned to a massage of the swollen, throbbing clit. His caress ended abruptly and he brought his fingers up to my lips. I licked them clean. I licked his palm and felt the knotted tails of the cat on my warm ass. I tensed and drew in my pelvis instinctively. I remembered the last time Master had used the cat on me.

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