All for Her Master

by Michael O'Connor

‘Whatever you say, master,’ she replied. ‘Do you wish to punish me again?’

  ‘Indeed I do,’ he said. ‘You’ll find just the thing on the coffee table. Bring it to me.’

  Tottering on the high heels of her thigh boots, Constance hurried out to the lounge and returned with the black leather tawse. She handed it to her master, then dropped to her knees before him. Arching her back, she thrust out her breasts in readiness to be punished. Her nipples were already swollen with anticipation.

  ‘I do like to get every little detail just right,’ said Sir Terence. ‘You appreciate that, don’t you, my dear?’

  ‘Of course, Sir Terence. I’m your slave. You must do as you see fit with me.’

  His cock swelled to even greater tumescence as he treated her breasts to an energetic flogging with the tawse. Constance threw back her head and responded with a throaty sound that was somewhere between a cry of pain and a moan of pleasure.

  Swish, thwack! Swish, thwack!

  The rhythmic sound of harsh leather striking soft flesh filled the bedroom. The punishment did not cease until Constance’s breasts were completely reddened and throbbing almost as violently as her bottom.

  Sir Terence threw aside the tawse and thrust his thickly veined staff towards her moist and pouting lips. They peeled apart and his erection slipped eagerly within. She swallowed until her nose was buried in the dark bush of his pubic hair, then drew her head slowly back, coating his tool with her saliva. He shuddered in ecstasy as her silken tongue travelled sensually over his glistening purple crown. She stroked his cock with her rubber-gloved right hand, while she licked his crinkled scrotum and took both his swollen eggs in turn in her mouth, soaking and warming them. She licked her way back up his cock, covered it in silky kisses, then once more welcomed it into her hungry mouth.

  The heavy breathing and soft moans of the old man were sweet music to her ears. With her mouth and tongue she made passionate love to his cock and balls, coaxing him to the brink of climax, but skilfully denying him the ultimate release. For now he was the slave, straining in the satin bondage of her cock-sucking craft. When finally she felt the tremor swelling from the base of his cock, she gripped it in her fist, threw back her head and milked his hot cream over her face and outstretched tongue, gasping as she was splattered in burst after burst of the powerful thick shower. As the last droplet spat onto her chin she flicked the seeping remains from his cock slit with the tip of her tongue. Not a drop was allowed to go to waste. She licked every sticky trace from her lips and gloves as Sir Terence slumped back onto the bed, breathless and blissfully drained.

  ‘Everything I’ve heard about you is indeed true,’ he panted, drawing her rubber-sheathed form tightly against him.

  ‘And what have you heard, master?’

  ‘That you really know how to satisfy a man. That you are uninhibited in the truest sense of the word. You showed your talent for obedience during your weekend at the Playground. Don’t look so surprised. I had several people keeping a close eye on you. I had to be sure you were the right person before I took the risk of offering you the job.’

  ‘You seem to know everything about me, Sir Terence,’ she replied.

  He smiled. ‘Including your fantasies, my dear. I have been taking a keen interest in you, ever since Kenton first mentioned you. It would be a crime to allow a talent such as yours to go to waste.’

  While he was speaking he guided her hands to his cock. As she stroked and manipulated him gradually back to full stiffness, he slipped a hand between her thighs and eased two fingers into her soaking sex. She spread her thighs wider, breathing urgently, aching to feel him inside her. In a few moments his cock had regained its full splendour and he ordered her to mount him.

  ‘Oh master. Oh yessss,’ she gasped, lowering herself onto his shaft, her rubber dress rolled up around her waist.

  She began riding slowly up and down on him, her vagina gripping like a snug-fitting glove. He cupped her throbbing pink breasts and squeezed tightly, pinching her stiff nipples between thumb and forefinger. She was sweating in her skin of rubber, but the humid discomfort only added an additional edge to her pleasure. Gradually she increased the tempo, urging him towards his peak, eager for the prize of his hot seed in her torrid depths. She tossed her head from side to side, crying out in the throes of her first climax. Suddenly his hands left her breasts, gripped her hips and raised her from him. Her beautiful face twisted in the agony of being denied her release.

  ‘Turn over,’ he panted.

  Constance eagerly fell onto all fours, enticingly presenting her bottom. He patted her rubber-covered buttocks, then slipped a skilful finger into the humid valley between them. She tensed as he stroked the crinkled bud of her rear entrance, then pushed his finger up inside.

  ‘I presume you’re not a virgin,’ he said huskily, easing his finger deeper into her snug tunnel.

  ‘A virgin, master?’ she exclaimed, mystified.

  ‘You’ve had anal sex before, I take it?’

  ‘No… no master,’ she stammered uncertainly. ‘I… I haven’t.’

  ‘Then this is indeed my lucky night,’ he smiled. ‘I’m afraid such special treats are all too rare these days.’

  His finger was moving deep inside her, creating a sensation that was both pleasant and slightly uncomfortable. She was still not at all sure she wanted to be taken in this way and considered asking him not to do it, but then decided she was being silly. If she was to spend an entire month at the Playground, she could hardly expect her bottom to remain out of bounds.

  Sir Terence kept his finger in her bottom for several minutes, gradually relaxing her instinctively tense sphincter muscle. At the same time he slipped his cock between the wet lips of her sex and slid it slowly back and forth, oiling it with her juices. She stiffened when he withdrew again, nibbling her lower lip in anxious readiness for the possible discomfort to come.

  ‘Relax, my dear,’ he coaxed gently, pushing his lubricated erection against the puckered entrance to her bottom.

  Constance gripped the sheet beneath her with both hands. A small cry issued from her throat as her clenched muscles yielded to the greater power of his rigid cock. A sharp bolt of pain lanced through her tummy, gradually giving way to an unexpected sensation of the purest pleasure that brought back teenage memories of when she had lost her virginity. In a matter of minutes she was responding eagerly to the thrusts of her master’s cock into her ultra-tight rectum, thrusting her hips back to meet every deep stroke. The pain spreading out from her belly and infusing her already aching buttocks stopped just the right side of exquisite.

  ‘I knew you’d love it, my dear,’ Sir Terence panted, his strokes becoming more agitated. ‘You must always remember, your master knows best.’

  Chapter 19

  Constance felt like a conquering queen when she returned to the Playground a fortnight later. The black-windowed limousine had once again been sent to deliver her, so she remained ignorant of the precise location of the place.

  KT had visited her the previous week, to finalise the details of her contract and answer any queries about her duties. She had had another meeting with Sir Terence in his suite at the King Charles and, once again, the experience had proved a pleasurable revelation. He had suggested she might pierce her nipples before taking up her new post. Constance had already been contemplating just that and was happy to comply with his wishes. Of Jonathan Covington, she had heard nothing. She still yearned for him, but expected they would almost certainly become reacquainted during her month at the Playground.

  For her second visit she was allowed to bring one small suitcase, but the clothes required for her duties would be provided. KT showed her to her quarters, a comfortable suite on the third floor of the guesthouse. Each room, including the bathroom, was equipped with a closed circuit TV camera and there were no locks on the doors. Though she might be technically in charge,
Constance would not be allowed to forget that she was, first and foremost, a slave. There would always be a master nearby to ensure she was punished whenever she deserved it.

  Her duties, beyond those of a sexual nature, were relatively undemanding. She would welcome new guests, both masters and slaves, and see to it that every desire of the former was satisfied. It did not take her long to realise that the real running of the resort was still in the hands of her masters.

  Though she was officially KT’s replacement, Constance would not be allowed to discipline her subordinate slaves. Any disobedience was to be reported to a master, who would mete out the appropriate punishment. She was, in fact, little more than a symbol of authority for the masters who would enjoy nothing more than putting a pushy woman in her place. This suited her perfectly. Not only was she being given a whole month in which to explore her fantasies further, she was also being handsomely paid for the privilege.

  Her duty uniform reflected her position perfectly. A crisp white blouse buttoned to the throat, with cutouts for her breasts and a magenta coloured silk jacket with a gold tag on the right lapel that read, CB – Senior Slave. Her matching ankle-length skirt was cut high at the back, leaving half-moons of her buttocks on view. Black seamed silk stockings, suspenders and high heels completed her ensemble. Underwear was strictly forbidden. Off-duty, she would go naked.

  KT left as soon as she had been thoroughly familiarised with her duties and she began her new role as senior slave.

  Strutting through the hotel in her over-dressed state, head held high, she immediately attracted the attention of masters and slaves alike. She had already made up her mind to maintain the self-assured air of Constance Brooking, successful businesswoman. Meekness would appear contrived and it would be so much more enjoyable for the masters to take her down a peg or two. Each man who caught her eye was offered a smile that could be interpreted as encouragement or defiance. It was all part of the game she was immersing herself in.

  She did not recognise any of the slaves from her previous visit and none of the masters looked familiar either. She wondered how Jon would react to seeing her strutting around as though she owned the place. He would certainly not hesitate to bring her back down to earth, and how she would enjoy that…

  ‘Senior slave. My word!’

  Constance turned in the direction of the voice. The man was lying on his stomach by the swimming pool, a naked and very pretty blonde in her early twenties on her knees beside him, massaging his shoulders. Constance thought his face looked familiar, but could not recall where she might have seen him before. It had certainly not been on her previous visit to the Playground.

  She smiled. ‘Yes, master.’

  ‘Come here,’ he told her. ‘Closer. Okay, turn round again. I think I prefer the rear view. You have a fine arse, senior slave. Or am I allowed to pass such sexist comments to one in your position?’

  ‘Of course you are, master,’ she replied.

  ‘I wasn’t sure,’ he said. ‘You look rather – formal. You must be something really special to be prancing around here fully dressed, when all the other slaves are naked as the day they were born. Well, Miss High and Mighty, what makes you so different?’

  Constance smiled. Her image was working to perfection. There was genuine resentment in the voice of the master and now he would surely feel obliged to assert his authority. ‘I’m just a slave in uniform,’ she replied. ‘I’m filling in for KT, while he’s on holiday.’

  ‘A slave filling in for a master?’ he exclaimed. ‘Now that is an innovation. You are, of course, required to attend to the needs of your guests?’

  ‘Of course, master.’

  ‘Very well. I would like you to bring one of those chairs over here and sit in front of me with your legs wide apart. Hurry up, chop chop! Now, play with yourself. Let your fingers do the walking.’

  His young slave giggled, obviously enjoying Constance’s humiliation as much as he seemed to be.

  Adopting a suitably shamed expression, Constance pushed her split skirt to one side, exposing her neatly groomed sex to his prying eyes. She ran both hands up her stockinged thighs, then slipped two fingers of each in between.

  Her quim was already hot and soaking and her fingers slid in with ease. She kept her head bowed as she vigorously frigged herself, moaning softly. It took her only a few moments to reach climax, but she continued fingering herself until the master directed her to stop.

  ‘Enough of that,’ he barked. ‘I know what you really need. Meet me in the gymnasium at seven. You won’t be needing your uniform.’

  Constance was only too eager to keep her appointment and the master did not disappoint her. Having warmed her up with ten minutes on the exercise bicycle, spurred on by regular slashes of the cane to her buttocks, he chained her to the bench press and vigorously punished her with his cock in both ends, watched by his slave and several masters. When he was finished with her he forced her to crawl on her hands and knees from the gymnasium. It was a fitting start to her new role as an ‘authority’ figure.

  It quickly became clear that her decision to play the confident lady of the manor had been an inspired one. She proved irresistible to the men, who had taken for granted that the slaves at the Playground were all grovelling creatures who walked around naked, constantly advertising their availability to their masters. Constance represented a challenge to their authority.

  She walked as though trying to intimidate them, daring them to assert themselves with her. That might be all very well in the world outside, but here in the Playground the haughty bitch would have to be taught the meaning of subservience.

  While on duty she was frequently caned, spanked and strapped, for the sheer sadistic pleasure of stern masters. Every night found her satisfying a different man, or sometimes several at once. On one unforgettable occasion she was roped to her bed by a trio of masters, who then simultaneously screwed her. Another time she was forced to wear black leather briefs lined with pointed metal studs, while she knelt to fellate a number of men, one after the other, with her wrists handcuffed behind her back.

  The first fortnight passed in a blur of lustful excess, which left her aching and more satisfied than she had ever dreamt possible. Constance began to fantasise that she could indeed spend the rest of her life like this, in total devotion to hedonistic gratification. Her boutique, her nice house, her friends and business acquaintances seemed like memories from a distant past. She was like a convert to the most perfect religion on earth, convinced she was ready to give up everything for the sins of the flesh.

  Then Sir Terence paid an unexpected visit, cruising regally up the driveway in a gleaming black Rover. Constance greeted him and, along with two staff slaves, escorted him to his private suite at the very rear of the guesthouse. She sincerely hoped she would be chosen to spend the night with him.

  ‘You seem to have settled in quite well,’ he said as soon as they were alone. ‘Any problems I should know about?’

  ‘No master,’ she replied. ‘Everything is just fine. This place is like paradise on earth. I’ve never felt so… fulfilled.’

  He smiled. ‘I’m glad to hear it. It’s been some time since I’ve visited. I intend staying for a couple of days and I’d like you as my personal slave while I’m here.’

  Constance was overjoyed. There were over thirty attractive young women Sir Terence could have chosen from, but he had not hesitated to select her. He had even brought with him the clothes he wanted her to wear.

  The slave uniform comprised of crotchless red rubber tights, matching high heels and a creation of studded black leather straps bound tightly around her upper body. A silver chain was clipped to the gold rings in her nipples. This would serve as her leash. For the next few days she would walk with even greater pride, revelling in her part as property of Sir Terence.

  His arrival provided the perfect excuse for a banquet, followed by th
e kind of after-dinner entertainment unique to the Playground. Two naked slaves volunteered to perform a pussy tug-of-war in the centre of the games room, with the assembled masters betting on the outcome. Each girl was handcuffed and two pairs of steel clamps, joined together by a chain, attached to her labia. They then began pulling in opposite directions, whiplashes stinging their buttocks. Either one could bring the game to an end whenever the pain became too unbearable. It lasted for almost ten minutes, until one girl slumped to her knees, sobbing for mercy, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  The next game involved two teams of three girls holding a cake fight on the lawn, whilst masturbating themselves with dildoes. When they were thoroughly covered in the gooey mess they licked one another clean, while the masters whipped them indiscriminately.

  ‘Choose a slave, Constance,’ Sir Terence said, some time later.

  ‘Master?’

  ‘I said choose a slave. There are plenty still available. Make sure it’s one you really like. You and she will be sharing my bed tonight.’

  She would have preferred him to choose, but he was the master and she would obey his wishes. She studied the slaves that had still not been claimed for the night by masters, her gaze eventually coming to rest on a slender and elegant woman in her early thirties.

  Constance took a deep breath, then approached her. ‘Sir Terence would like us to entertain him tonight.’

  The woman smiled.

  Fifteen minutes later the three of them were naked on Sir Terence’s bed. The woman, whose name was Miriam, needed no persuasion to begin playing lesbian games with Constance. She found herself responding instinctively, recalling the pleasure she had experienced with her previous female partners. The pair kissed passionately, hands exploring one another. Sir Terence was content to watch until they moved into a sixty-nine, tongues greedily feasting on lust-slicked pussies. He then got into position behind Constance. Miriam instinctively knew what he intended. She moistened his cock with her mouth, then gripped it in her fist and helped him to ease into his favourite slave.