Yes, Master!

by Reese Gabriel

  “Uh huh...follow me home?” Her words slurred like she’d been drinking.

  “If you wish.”

  “I wish you’d come inside, too,” she said, pressing her luck. To emphasize the double entendre she took his hand and put it between her legs.

  Her thighs were slick with her own juices. Had she left a stain on the motorcycle? Rave would have beaten her ass, made her lick it off. But he never took her anywhere, not anymore. Melody would learn that in time, the other side of Rave, the staid, no longer giving a fuck side.

  “It’s been a long day,” said Virgil.

  “Very long...” she stroked his cock boldly through his jeans.

  “You’re asking for it,” he said throatily.

  “Am I? Then I guess I shouldn’t tell you about my brass bed,” she said enticingly.

  “I think a few hours tied up in the closet to cool off would suit you better.”

  She reached under his t-shirt. “Oh, Master,” she moaned. “Please take me upstairs, do what you will. I have toys, handcuffs...”

  “Toys are not for grown men.”

  Of course they weren’t...

  “You’re not a boy,” she said in a low voice. “I know that...Master.”

  “I am not your master,” he said.

  “But if you were, what would you tell me to do, right now?”

  “I would tell you to go upstairs to your apartment and get some sleep.”

  “But I’m not tired,” she whined.

  “See?” he said. “You’re undisciplined. A brat.”

  “I can obey just fine,” she pouted.

  He gave her a chaste kiss. “Good night, Liandra.”

  “But when will I see you again?”

  “That’s up to you.” He slipped a piece of paper into her hand. “You can leave a message for me here.”

  “How about tomorrow? Are you free, then?”

  “Desperation doesn’t suit you, Liandra.”

  “I’m not,” she insisted. “I just...I miss you already.”

  “Get a good night’s sleep,” he conceded. “If you want to call for me tomorrow you can.”

  “You can count on it.”

  He was already getting on his bike. She watched him ride away, her stomach in knots. It wasn’t like the feelings she’d had with any other strong man. This one was getting deep inside, touching places not even Rave had ever been. It scared her, it excited her.

  “What the fuck are you staring at?” demanded a voice, cold and sullen.

  Rave had appeared out of nowhere, materializing from the shadows.

  “I’m not staring at anything,” she said.

  “You’re a lying cunt, Lee.”

  Her lower lip trembled. “Please, Rave, don’t punish me...it was a man, from work, but I swear, nothing happened.”

  Rave glared, but he couldn’t read her mind, not like Virgil. “Get your ass upstairs, little girl, and we will continue this conversation.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she said, preceding him into the building.

  “I don’t know what your game is,” he told her in the elevator. “But you’re going to be one sorry slut.”

  Liandra dropped to her knees on the spot. “We just went for coffee, I swear to god, I’m your girl, I would never do that to you.”

  “Get up.” He kicked her away in disgust. “It’s too late to get on my good side. And to think I had good news,” he growled, slamming the apartment door behind them.

  “Wh—what good news? Tell me, please?”

  “I left Melody.” He clenched his fists. “I decided it’s you I want.”

  Emotions raced at Liandra. “I don’t know what to say...”

  “Save it, you two timing little bitch.”

  “I’m not a two timer,” she insisted.

  “No? So if I made a little inspection I wouldn’t find your new coffee buddy’s sperm up your hole?”

  Liandra swallowed. “That’s a terrible accusation to make...”

  Rave snorted. “I would expect nothing else from a bitch like you, Lee. You couldn’t keep your legs together if your life depended on it.”

  She lowered her eyes, shamed by the truth of his words.

  Rave narrowed his gaze, enjoying her misery. “It’s time to do something I should have a long time ago,” he announced.

  “What?” she asked, more than a little wary.

  He winked with a false grin. “I can’t take the surprise away. Let’s just say it starts with you squatting in the tub naked.”

  His words hit her like a sucker punch. “Rave, no not that...it was a limit, we discussed it.”

  “You don’t have the right to limits,” he snarled. “But never let it be said I’m a total asshole. You want me to go? Fine. But I’m not coming back, Lee, not ever. Well, what is it? Do you want me out of your life?”

  She stared at her clasped hands. “No,” she said in the tiniest voice.

  “Didn’t think so,” he said, triumphant. “Now get your ass in that bathroom or you’ll be drinking my piss and not just wearing it.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she heard herself say, having just consented to a golden shower.

  It wasn’t that the idea repulsed her entirely from a BDSM standpoint, it’s just that Rave was so domineering and disrespectful already, there was no telling how low down he’d make her feel. But apparently that wasn’t an issue for either one of them because she’d just given her consent.

  She heard the top pop off a beer out in the kitchen.

  Beer was good for making a man piss.

  Luckily she hadn’t gone to the store, there weren’t too many more left.

  Liandra checked herself in the mirror. “You don’t have to do this,” she said to her reflection.

  The image gave no answer. Stumped, Liandra took off her shirt and bra. She could still feel Virgil’s hands on her body, hear his quiet, commanding voice. How he’d let her love him, how he’d given her the freedom to be the slave girl of her dreams. It wasn’t real, she knew that, it couldn’t last, but it was one hell of a memory.

  What did manage to last was Rave, with his ingenious ‘mind-fucking, never the same game twice’ intrusions in her life. She hoped at least that Virgil would enjoy her panties. She’d slipped them in there without his knowing. She smiled, thinking that maybe he would smile, too. One day maybe when he got his next slave girl, he’d think of her. Perhaps he’d call her Liandra, as a nick name.

  Liandra was climbing into the tub when she heard the doorbell.

  Something in her gut told her it was going to be trouble.

  Did Virgil know her apartment number? The names were downstairs on the mailboxes...but would he come back?

  One thing was sure; she didn’t want Rave answering the door. Throwing on the silk kimono she had hooked onto the back of the door, Liandra ran out to the living room.

  “I’ll get it!”

  Rave was already at the door. “Who the fuck are you?”

  Virgil looked down at him, indifferent. “I’m looking for Liandra.”

  “Well she’s not looking for you,” said Rave, spoiling for a fight as always.

  “Rave, let me talk to him.”

  Rave had a knife in his pocket. “I don’t think we need any talking, do you?”

  Virgil was unperturbed by the flashing steel blade. “Liandra, do you want to speak to me or not?”

  Rave was giving her the evil eye.

  “I...I shouldn’t,” she said meekly.

  “Now I get it,” Rave snarled. “You’re the coffee guy. The one she’s not screwing.”

  “I don’t want any trouble from you,” Virgil said to Rave.

  “Well, you got trouble and plenty of it.”

  “My concern is this woman. I saw you follow her up. I became concerned.”

  “Is there a law against a man being with his fiancé?” Rave said. “Cause I’d like to know if there is.”

  Virgil looked at Liandra, who could do little more than blink.

  “That�
��s right, we’re going to get married, Tonto. This weekend, in fact.”

  “Rave, please don’t insult Virgil,” Liandra pleaded.

  “Virgil?” He guffawed. “I don’t need to insult a man with a name like that.”

  “Liandra,” said Virgil, drawing the full attention of her body and soul. “Who is this man to you?”

  “He’s...he’s my fiancé,” she heard herself parrot Rave’s words.

  Rave came over and snaked an arm around her waist, making her cringe. “She’s my subbie, too, aren’t you, girl?”

  “Y—yes.”

  “In fact, in just a few minutes,” Rave gloated. “After your Injun ass is out of here, I’m taking my little fiancée in the bathroom for a special subbie shower. Lee, tell the man about it.”

  Rave had talons in her heart right about now. Her soul was under his boot and he was grinding it. “He’s...he’s going to...to...”

  “I know what he intends, Liandra,” said Virgil.

  “But I want her to say it,” Rave declared.

  “I’m going to be...peed on,” said Liandra.

  Rave grinned. “Bet you never got a girl to let you do that to her, huh, big man.”

  “You’re quite the stud, all right,” said Virgil, his emotions hidden.

  Rave scowled. “Are you making fun of me?”

  “You’re not worth the effort.”

  Rave made a motion with the knife.

  “Please,” Virgil encouraged. “Give me an excuse.”

  Rave pursed his lips. Thinking better of it, he stood down. Even unarmed, Virgil was a fearsome looking opponent.

  “Lee,” he barked, turning his anger to her. “Tell the big man good night.”

  “Good night,” said Liandra, barely audible.

  “You have my number,” said Virgil.

  “Yeah, yeah,” said Rave. “She’ll be burning up the phone lines.”

  Liandra wanted to say more, but it was too late. Virgil was turning, walking away. She should stop him, but she’d made her choice.

  Rave grabbed her by the hair and locked the door. “You fucked him.”

  “Yes...” There was no hiding it now.

  “You’ll fuck anything that walks, won’t you?”

  “Y—yes,” she whimpered.

  “Yes what?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Beg for my piss,” he said.

  “P—please, Master...p—piss on me...”

  Rave twisted her neck. “There are going to be changes, Lee. I’ve given you too much freedom. I’ve been too nice.”

  “I—I want to be good.” Her eyes watered. “I want to be your slut...I love you, Master.”

  Rave laughed, releasing her. “Just wait for me in the bathroom, baby.”

  She took a chance, taking his hand, kissing it. “I love you,” she repeated.

  He smacked her ass, moving her along. “Okay, cunt, that’s enough.”

  His voice had lost its edge, but Liandra hurried nonetheless. She put herself immediately into position, squatting in the tub. She put her hands behind her head, breasts thrust out. There was no telling how long he’d take coming in after her, maybe five minutes, maybe an hour, but she’d be ready.

  All she could think of was his cock and how he’d take it out and what he would do to her, draining himself of hot, yellow fluid, shaming, embarrassing her. She parted her thighs, wide. Her pussy belonged to Rave now and he wanted changes. Was he going to claim her, fully? She’d be his slave...he could move in, he could take over. Just so long as she didn’t have to think—not about herself or Virgil or what she’d done tonight to end any possibility of a relationship between them.

  Virgil’s face had been so blank when he left. He had not reacted at all. What did that mean? Was she too insignificant to him to merit causing him any pain? Or was he just too good at disguising himself. She saw nothing phony in him all day. He opened himself, patiently, respectfully as he saw fit, not for sake of lording anything over her but in order to make their day more special and peaceful.

  He’d done things to her...his way of making love was phenomenal.

  Her muscles ached, from the sex and now from the position she was in. She wouldn’t be able to hold out long. The room...it was spinning, just a little. Too much, too many experiences for one day. She heard another beer can in the living room. The TV went on. Rave was settling down. He intended to make her think, he was going to punish her with the delay.

  The aches and pains turned to screams. The room was spinning faster. Her head pounded. She leaned back against the wall. Her cunt craved a cock, any cock; Rave’s cock if he’d have her.

  The emphasis being on if he’d have her now when...

  She knew she was on trial. She wanted to pass. She wanted him happy...or at least with his teeth sunk deeper into her life.

  “Please,” she whispered in vain. “Come and get your slave, Master...she needs you...”

  She closed her eyes, intending only to rest them for a moment.

  Before she knew it, she’d fallen asleep. Dimly she remembered slipping down into the tub, curling up in a ball...disobedient.

  Liandra awoke some time later, liquid tinkling on her face.

  Rave had his dick in his hand. He was draining it methodically up and down her prone body, a steady stream, a powerful jet. She heard him sigh in relief, pure male satisfaction.

  “Stay where you are,” he ordered as she tried to rise. “This is only the first round.”

  She noticed that he had plugged the drain. The piss had nowhere to go. She closed her mouth tight against the splashing drops. It was a large amount, beer piss. It smelled sour, vinegar mixed with the smell of degradation.

  “You couldn’t stay in position, bitch,” he explained. “So I’m giving you the extra special treatment.”

  He turned the light off on the way out and closed the door. Liandra shifted her legs. It was a cruel wake up call. She’d been dreaming about Virgil, wearing an Indian headdress, bright red feathers down both sides. He was bare-chested, wearing a breech cloth and deerskin boots. He was mounted on a horse and he’d come to rescue her. She was tied to a stake, naked. Her skin was covered in sticky syrup. A large number of dogs were licking at her, their sandy tongues on her legs and ass and even in her pussy.

  She was trying not to come, but she couldn’t help herself. There were soldiers, blue suited cavalry men all around her, laughing. One of the dogs was lapping at her belly. They were trying to encourage it to nibble at her breasts. Virgil gave a loud war cry and the soldiers scattered and the dogs, too. He was on the verge of rescuing her, when Rave began pissing.

  In the dream it was yellow rain. Virgil scowled and turned his horse away. “I’m sorry, I cannot stay.”

  She cried out after him, but he was gone.

  There was no going back to sleep now. The ceramic hurt her hips. Her cheek hurt, too, from where she was lying on it. She could turn over, but that would only cause her to be further covered in piss.

  To buy lying in darkness, a prisoner in her own bathroom, was mind blowing.

  Rave really was providing a new wrinkle. Good, let him keep it up and she’d be way too busy to worry about Virgil ever again.

  Sometime later, Rave came back. He announced his presence with a belch. He didn’t bother to put the light on. His urine landed on her ass, drizzling down over her hip. It was almost hot, scalding her soul. He shifted slightly, drowning her shoulder and soaking her hair.

  “What do you say, slut?”

  “Thank you, Master.”

  He closed the door again, leaving her alone. She had to pee herself. What was the point in holding it back? Her flow joined the deepening puddles around her body. She gained some relief, though now her sexual urges rapidly multiplied.

  Feeling like a very bad girl, she turned onto her back, drowning her ass in piss. Planting her feet, she stuck her finger between her legs. She gritted her teeth, careful not to make any noise as she brought herself off. The orgas
m was almost painful, a tight, forbidden clenching.

  I’ll have to confess this, she thought. I cannot keep anything from my master, no matter what the cost.

  The climax was as dirty and small as it was dark; completely fitting for her environment and condition.

  Rave was outdoing himself. Good for him.

  The door opened again. He announced his entry with a belch. She was on her back to receive his latest offering, a fresh spray on her breasts and belly. She shut her eyes tight as he drenched her face. Where was he getting so much piss from?

  “Master,” she called out before he could leave again.

  “What is it, Lee?” He sounded mellow, almost wistful.

  “How much longer...do I...”

  “I don’t know yet.” This time he left the light on for her.

  Was it supposed to be an act of mercy or just another form of torture, letting her see her soiled body?

  She fell asleep again.

  He woke her up by turning on the shower. She screamed from the cold water.

  “Wash up,” he ordered.

  Liandra shivered, working the soap over her body. He left the shower curtain open so he could watch.

  She washed her hair, but did without the conditioner.

  He turned the water off, mercifully, although he didn’t give her a towel.

  Grabbing her arm, he took her to the living room and pushed her against the wall, flattening her breasts. He made her put her palms to the cool surface. She shivered, wet, pathetic. But it was what she deserved, what she wanted, to be left on display, ass exposed, neglected.

  He left her and went in to the kitchen to fix himself a sandwich. Liandra’s stomach growled. Gradually, the air dried her. He came back in at a certain point to whip her, ten stern lashes with his belt. She was made to push out her ass and say “Thank you, Master,” for each blow.

  He left her again, buttocks on fire, the pain stabbed straight through, like hot knives aimed at her cunt and tits. Her nipples burned against the wall. Ashamed, she began to rub herself.

  “Knock it off,” he called from the living room couch.

  Liandra whimpered.

  He came back for her, taking her by the hair, damp and tangled. He pushed her to her knees and fed her his hard cock. He was splendidly naked; what a body he had. Liandra gobbled greedily, taking as much as he’d give her, looking for her centering, her meaning in this act of abasement. His cock was her world; this was the one way, the one time she could be sure she was fully pleasing and consuming him...when he was hard and needy and exploiting her. He might imagine other women, he might think anything he wanted, but this was her body and he’d chosen to be here, to stuff her full of his dick at this moment and no one else.