by Jamie Knight
With Morgan properly bound, I couldn't help but run my hand over her from neck to feet. I was holding back again. She felt so good. I didn't want to risk ruining things by doing the wrong thing.
It wasn’t something I had worried about much before, which was a large part of the reason why I so rarely made mistakes. Things tended to go better when I was relaxed.
Moved by spirits unknown, though likely also blinded by love, I took off my t-shirt, exposing my full canvas, including my ANGER tattoo. There was no point in hiding it. Morgan was going to find out eventually anyway, and I didn't want there to be any secrets between us.
If she noticed, she didn't let on. She waited for me to do whatever I wanted, like the good little pet she was.
Not wanting to disappoint her, my pants came off next. My cock was already rock hard as I approached the bed.
She gasped when she saw it, and I loved her reaction.
“Are you ready for my big cock in your tiny pussy hole?” I asked her.
“Yes, Master,” she said, and her response was music to my ears.
Chapter Ten - Morgan
I quickly scanned the room for cameras, but I didn’t see any. Giving myself to Adam was one thing, but doing it in front of a potential audience of millions was quite another.
I should have known he would keep his bedroom private. He probably insisted on it. Plus, it’s not as if the reality TV show was rated X. It still had to be somewhat cable friendly.
Adam didn’t touch me again for a while. I had no control, which was sexy enough in itself, but I also didn't actually have to do anything. I didn't know if it was the same with all Doms, but if Adam had a kink, it seemed to be that he derived as much pleasure out of giving orgasms than he did in having them himself. I'd already had several orgasms, or damn close to it, and he hadn't even instructed me to touch him yet.
I couldn’t really tell what was going on. His expressions in that moment were harder to read than Greek. Maybe it was something he did so his pets wouldn’t know what was coming next, like a kink version of a poker face.
I stared at the ceiling, bound and immobile, relying on my ears and nose to tell me what was going on and what might be coming next. The soft whoosh of his t-shirt came free from his beautiful body. I was a bit disappointed because I was kind of curious to see his infamous tattoos.
The next sound was of a fly going down and my attention was brought full force to the foot of the bed, where I assumed he would approach. Stroking his hands the length of my ribs several times, getting me into a blissfully relaxed state, Adam climbed up on top of me and rubbed the head of his beautiful cock against my well-prepared pussy.
Nuzzling my neck and giving the soft, sensitive flesh loving licks and nibbles, he pushed his large, hard cock inside me. He slipped himself deep into my pussy, almost to the hilt.
The sensation was amazing. It was intense but incredibly pleasurable. I closed my eyes and tried not to make a noise. Adam pulled back to a slightly more comfortable depth and started to move.
My eyes snapped open. Even though they couldn't see anything, the force of his fucking so strong it demanded attention as well as adoration. I wished I could have seen what was happening. Though, not being able to was probably part of the point.
He went harder. He pumped my pussy gradually faster until he had built up to a steady, moderate rhythm. I moaned.
For a moment, I was afraid he might cum in me. He wasn't wearing a condom that I could feel, and I hadn't been on birth control since long before Freya was born.
My fears were relieved when he eased out of my pussy and dumped his huge load right into my mouth. Swallowing it down, I took his magnificent cock in my mouth and pulled a second load out of him with my lips before sucking him hard again.
Despite his passion, I had the feeling he was holding back, as if there was more he wanted to do but it was like he was afraid of doing the wrong thing. As far as I was concerned, there was no wrong thing and everything he did felt like magic.
It was weird, but it was as close to feeling like a princess as I had ever gotten. And not just because of the pony, which was still fucking amazing.
“I want to keep going,” he said.
“I am yours, Master,” I reminded him.
My words acted like a lightning bolt, striking some hidden chamber of his mind. The reaction was as intense as it was instantaneous.
Loosening the bonds enough so that it was possible, he flipped me over onto my belly and then set them tighter. One he had me securely tied to the bed, bound and helpless, it was time for the ball-gag, also conjured from his magic drawer of tools.
He didn't even tell me to open my mouth. Acting like a bit more of an involved lover than I was expecting, he did it himself. Lifting my head from the bottom, he pulled my mouth open with a thumb on my chin, placing the rubber ball into the created gap.
He secured the straps behind my head and moved my hands so that they were cuffed behind my back. Pulling me up into a doggy position, he pulled me back hard into a downward dog position, my ass high in the air.
The noise I heard next made me flinch. I knew the sound of a plastic lid when I heard one. Given the situation, I could only assume it was lube and that things were about to get real.
It was a gentle touch. The familiar warmth of his tongue burying itself deep inside my pussy, the oral stimulation augmented by firm, upward spanks on my ass. His hand cupped, making it feel more like a grope than a hit.
As before, he devoured me right up until I was ready to scream, or whatever sound might actually come out of me on account of the ball-gag, before stopping briskly, cupping my pussy and stroking my ass in big circles as I wept.
I loved the orgasm he gave me so much. Though, oddly, being denied them made it even better when I was finally allowed to go to completion.
He dove back in with no element of restraint, licking me until I screamed. Within a couple of minutes, the pleasure he evoked in me was intense.
Pulling back as he came down, he drove three fingers inside me and started pounding me. He spanked me hard with his other hand with the same upward motion that wasn't as bad as it could have been.
While it was a lot harder than what he had been doing before, it still felt really good and didn't hurt at all. It was intense, to be sure, but in a really good way.
The snap came again. A thin cool flow of lube running down over my asshole and along my tingling pussy. The second snap was different and a bit more surprising. Medical gloves.
I moaned deep as he touched me, working the lube into my asshole with his fingers while stroking his thumb the length of my pussy and then back again. I pushed back against his touch, wanting more.
“Not yet. I’m in charge. But soon, pet,” he said, stroking the small of my back.
I whimpered but complied, letting my master do what he was going to do. He did know best, after all.
The butt plug wasn't as big as I had imagined. It slipped in with surprising ease, preparing me for what was to come. The base pressed up gently against my ass cheeks, letting me know just how far it had gone in.
Moving behind me with the butt plug well in position, Adam laid a hand on my hip and shoved his cock into my lubed-up pussy.
I groaned softly into the pillow. It was the only sound I could make with the ball-gag in my mouth. Once Adam’s cock was firmly planted inside me, as if it belonged there forever, he reared back and poured in again.
He repeated this motion a few more times, picking up speed with each repetition until he was jackhammering his huge dick inside my little pussy hole as I screamed in joy. He was pounding my cunt so hard that one of the paintings which looked like an original, fell from its nail on the other side of the nightstand.
“That’s right, my little pet,” he grunted. “Let me fuck your tight, wet little pussy as hard as I want, as much as I want with my huge cock. Until I cum so much you’ll be covered in it.”
I was honestly shocked at how long he was able
to go. I had cum nearly eight times before he got ready to gift me his own cum. I wondered where he might unload it, with my mouth no longer available.
I didn't think he would cum in my pussy without a condom, and I was on my belly, which ruled out my face. That actually would have been pretty hot.
My question was soon answered when the butt plug was pulled from my ass and replaced with the head of Adam's cock. His thick, hot cum warmed me from within. But there was about to be more where that came from.
“Mmmm,” he groaned. “I love seeing my cum dripping out of your ass cheeks like that. I’ve claimed you and made you mine for as long as I want. Don’t you ever forget that.”
“No, Master,” I told him, nearly whimpering with pleasure. “I won’t.”
“Good. Because now I’m going to fuck that tiny little asshole of yours.”
Taking my hips with both hands, he pushed into my virgin asshole, getting about half of his cock in before he had to stop. Easing off a bit, he caused a sigh of relief to emanate mostly from my nose. It hurt a lot, but I was determined to let him keep going. I wanted to give him everything he wanted and let him push me to my limits.
He started moving in me as I gladly sacrificed the last virginity I had to give. He didn't pound into me. At least not at first. He started out with smooth, fluid pumps, working in and out of my stretched asshole. The butt plug really worked wonders.
Gradually, getting me used to each progressive step as it occurred, Adam went faster and harder, fucking my tight, virgin ass until he was pounding it. It no longer hurt; it just felt amazingly great.
With my ponytail wound around his hand, he pulled my head back in just the right way so that it was sexy. With his other hand, he slapped my ass and then held onto it as he said, “Fuck yeah, Pet. Let me fuck your ass as hard as I want because you belong to me.”
Waves of pleasure crashed over me and I thought I might blackout from sheer joy at being filled up so completely. Fortunately, I didn’t and was able to experience it as he unloaded deep into my ass for the second time.
I dropped onto the mattress with absolutely no strength left in me. He had pushed me to the point of breaking, pulling back only at the last second. The ball-gag came out first. Adam softly massaged my admittedly sore jaw.
Caressing the length of my arms, he released the handcuffs and my arms fell onto the bed beside me. Repeating the process for my legs, the ropes came loose one by one, once again freeing me.
Turning me onto my back, Adam scooped me up into his arms and held me close as he carried me with ease. I gave a moment’s thought to cameras but was really beyond the point of caring at that point. I refused to let anything ruin the moment.
The door opened automatically as we approached. Of course it did. After the secret archives, nothing really surprised me anymore.
Pulling the cover of the jacuzzi tub off one-handed, Adam lowered me into the warm, mineral enriched water. My muscles relaxed all at once.
Leaving a hand on my neck and plying a tender massage that made me hum with pleasure, Adam hit a button built into the pool to turn on the jets. I couldn’t resist. I lifted myself off the tile bench built into the wall and let myself just float, imagining myself in a void, completely relaxed and centered. My mind finally went white.
I came to on the bed. The sheets had been changed and I was laying on what felt like an Egyptian cotton towel.
I felt something thick and wet on my back, recognizing the smell of aloe. Adam lovingly worked the lotion into my skin, which was almost like a Zen experience.
I expected him to go in for another round of sex, but besides his firm and lovely working of my ass with his strong hands, he didn't. I knew that aftercare, both physical and emotional, was part of S&M, but there also seemed more to it.
I got the strong sense that Adam had feelings for me like I did for him.
But I wasn’t about to ask him as I didn’t want to ruin our wonderful physical experience by bringing complicated emotions into it.
I would just have to wait and see what happened between us as more time passed.
Chapter Eleven - Adam
The rhythm of my feet was steady as I ran along, a thumping that matched that of my heart as I tried to get my adrenaline going. The view wasn’t quite the same as at the club but was still nothing to sneeze at. Thick green forest, dropped off into a vast ocean vista.
The music was the same, however. My workout playlist was set long ago, arranged alphabetically, from Annihilator to Hammerfall. There were few things better than metal to get the body moving.
Sufficiently jacked up on brain chemicals, it was to the kitchen to make breakfast for the two of us. Morgan was still snoozing softly when I vacated the bed. I thought it best to let her sleep. She’d had a big night.
I’d learned to cook from my mother, a skill she had picked up as the oldest of eight kids, expected to basically be a back-up mom to the other seven. That fact went a long way to explaining why she herself had only had one kid – me – and even that one was more or less by accident. She never seemed to regret it, though.
“It seems odd, right?” I asked the camera humming in the corner of the west wall, up near the ceiling.
The producers, up to that point, honestly thought I didn’t know about them. To the contrary, though, I knew where they all were and had already removed the ones from my bedroom and the bathroom.
“Shouldn’t my pet be cooking for me? I must say, that shows a narrow mind on the subject of S&M. It’s not your fault really. Shit media ruined it for everyone. Fact is, the job of a Dom, a real Dom, not a disguised psychopath or a poser, is to take care of their submissive. Domination requires a duty of care, part of which is making sure the sub is eating properly. In fact, regular meals, often under supervision, are often a major part of power exchange relationships.”
I paused for dramatic effect, letting my paradigm shattering words really sink into the hearts and minds of the audience. Assuming it all made it into the final cut. I had no such hope for the producers. Their hearts were made of ice and their heads were largely composed of high-grade concrete.
“You may ask yourselves when a manly man such as I learned how to cook like a French gourmet chef. If so, I can only suggest you hop back into your time machines and return to the Victorian era.”
It was a little game I thought to play. The producers claimed to want “reality” but were really only interested in the juicy stuff that would thrill the audience while also confirming their preconceived notions.
So, I would go to where I knew the cameras were live and plant what I had come to think of as ‘truth bombs.’ Little bursts of damaging facts meant to pepper the regular footage, often in hope of potentially ruining an otherwise perfectly usable bit of footage. I was curious to see what kind of collage the editors would manage to cobble together in the end.
The hand-carved plate set with food, I hoisted up off the pure marble countertop and headed back to the bedroom.
“Wow,” Morgan said, sitting up with an adorable little stretch.
“Me or the food?” I teased, laying the tray on her lap.
“Both, though that tattoo is rather eye-catching,” she said, indicating ANGER.
“Yeah, that’s why I don’t like to appear without a shirt.”
“Except with me,” she grinned.
“Well, yeah,” I said, not having considered the full implications of this.
“I feel so special.”
“Sarcasm?” I asked.
Her delivery was a bit too good.
“Nope. So, what’s the story behind that? You don’t seem very angry to me.”
“I’m not, and that’s not what it means. Are you familiar with Kenneth Anger?”
“Sure, Scorpio Rising, right?” Morgan asked.
“Exactly. Well, he is somewhat infamous for having the word LUCIFER tattooed across his chest.”
“Why?”
“Long story, but it makes sense considering who he i
s.”
“I like stories,” Morgan said.
“Well, Anger is known for his interest in less-than-orthodox religions. Particularly stuff that got him labeled as a rebel by the religious bugaboos of his day. So, he had the name of his supposed god tattooed across his chest as a sort of label or name tag. It went into a pretty good joke later when he would say something like, ‘I know who I am; my name is tattooed across my chest.’ When it came to my own pieces, I wanted to do something as a tribute to him.”
“Why didn’t you do LUCIFER, too?” Morgan asked in all innocence.
“Fair question. I guess it seemed too derivative and literalist. There was already one of those, and I didn’t have the background to justify the joke. So, I did something consistent with myself as well as compounding Anger’s original gesture.”
“Oh, I get it. You didn’t need to put Lucifer like he did because a new Lucifer has arisen by way of his, not your, yet- earned reputation.”
“That’s about the size of it,” I said, suitably impressed.
It was interview day. The producers insisted on regular, individual updates to show how things are going. I had seen enough reality TV to know what they were actually looking for: petty bullshit drama. And if they couldn't find any that actually existed, they would find a way to make it up.
I had thought a bit about how I would handle this. My first thought was to try and predict what they were going to ask and then only give the same pat answers, giving them nothing to manipulate. But that was far too boring. Instead, I decided to wing it, answering exactly what they asked as they asked it and possibly giving more reality than they could handle.
It sounded like a submarine. I clicked the icon to end my torment, the face of Sara, the production assistant. The scumfucks didn't even have the decency to fight their own battles. They probably knew I would go easy on her.