AKKing
Posts: 1
Joined: 12/26/2004
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The Test
by aKKing
Nine of Diamonds… shit, now what. I looked at her, she was looking at her cards, and he was tapping his foot and looking at her. The dealer was looking at him. It was late, the dealer wanted to go home.
“Check or bet,” the dealer said to the man in the four seat.
He smiled, looked at me, “check to the bettor,” he said. His hand was on a stack of chips. He wanted me to check. He was bluffing at me with the stack he moved up and down on the table.
I looked the woman; she was fidgeting with her cards. They don’t change from the time they are dealt. Nervous habit I guess. I had 15 thousand and some change in chips; he had just over 30,000, she had 9,000. The limits were 7,500 and 15k. Last bet, so it was 15,000, almost all of my chips. I had her beat, but if he calls I am dead to a big diamond. She raised on the flop, she was on a set, no pair on the board, he had raised on the turn when the 10 diamonds hits, open ended straight draw, and two flush. He had either a straight or a flush. It would take half his chips to call me. He was a loose cannon. I could not tell if he was Hispanic or not, but he was into macho and rarely laid it down. If he thinks I have a flush he wants to test me on the size, or if he is on the idiot end of straight he wants me to go away. Time to choose-- He doesn’t have the nuts.
“I bet,” and push all my chips in the middle. The dealer counts my stacks and pushes the 700 back at me. Max bet is 15,000 I know that but I am trying to intimidate him. He looks at me, the smile is gone, I turn to look at her. She is about 65, probably has a nice nest egg, but no husband. Wonder if she agitated him to death? Big ass ring on her right hand. She moves her stack into the middle.
“I call,” she looks at him. The whole last half hour she has basically ignored me and focused on him. He is loose, plays aggressive, can’t ever tell where he’ll be until he turns them over. He had bluffed her out of a pot with Ace high. He flipped over his hand when she didn’t call the bet and laughed. She was on tilt. Tilt cuts both ways, a player is angry and playing irrationally, sometimes they gamble and win. This time she was a loser. I knew it.
“I raise,” he said taking my last 700. It was the correct play but he was smiling at me again. “I got you this time.”
I tossed the last 7 chips into the pot.
“Turn ‘em over,” the dealer said.
He flipped over his hand and it sailed out into the middle of the table. Bad move, always protect your hand until the dealer reads them all. 7 & 8 of clubs, idiot end of the straight.
“Winner,” I said, under my breath.
She threw her cards face down into the chips and they bounced off hitting the rail before I could turn mine over.
I turned them and pushed them forward. I put my index finger on the 10 diamonds and my middle one on the 7 diamonds.
“Flush,” said the dealer, and started pushing the chips toward me.
The woman stood up, “you are nothing but lucky,” she said as she pushed back on the chair with her legs, it fell over. She leaned over the table, “I hope you never win another hand, ever.”
The dealer didn’t flinch; he had been around too long to be shocked by anything at a poker table.
“Whoooa!” said the other player, he was stroking his goatee. Big smile on his face, “don’t think she likes you much.”
“Probably not,” I said, “you want to chop?” I looked at him; he looked down, started playing with his chips.
“Let’s play, man, one hand winner take all.” He said.
“Get serious, I have you two to one in chips now. I’ll give you a hundred and take first you, get second.” I was looking at him.
“Let’s play, man, see whose best.” He was restacking his chips and not looking at me as he spoke.
The dealer started shuffling.
“I tried,” I said.
The dealer shrugged.
I organized the chips so that there were two very tall stacks. Big dicks, wonder if he has a little dick. He is short and wiry. He acts like a little dick.
I was the small blind, first to bet I folded. He scowled.
“COM’ on, man, let’s play.” He was not happy.
Big blind, he pushed all his chips in on his small blind, first to bet. I folded. He had almost doubled and I was at under 20k, time to do something.
Janet came to the table, “Blinds are 5 &10, limits 10 and 20 thousand, guys.”
“No balls,” he said not looking up as he stacked my chips in his pile.
I could feel the heat rush through me; I was going on tilt unless I did something quickly.
“You want hot or mild, when I feed yours to you?” I said staring at him. He didn’t look up.
The trap was set. He would call not matter what I had. I had King Queen, Jack Ten, double suited, Diamonds and clubs, perfect hand for heads up in Omaha High Low. The experts felt differently, but in tournaments I loved the hand for heads up.
Small blind, my bet, “raise” I said, it was all my chips. ‘Now or never.’
“All in, man, one hand all the chips,” he said.
“But you have me outchipped,” I looked at him he had pushed all chips in the middle.
“Floor,” the dealer said to call the tournament director. Who happened to be standing about 10 feet behind and to his left.
She stepped forward, “you can’t do that, sir. You can only call what he has.”
“If it’s okay with him, why not?” He was agitated; he was looking for a rush.
“Count his chips down, and deal,” Janet said to the dealer and stood there waiting.
I turned my cards over; he had 2-3 clubs, 4-5 diamonds. Good low hand with lots of straight outs.
“All paint, “ I said to no one.
Flop came, King, Queen, King. He was beaten; I had a full house on the flop.
“Man you are lucky.” He wasn’t happy, he nervously lifted and dropped the chip stack he had left.
“Coffee, Sire?” A voice whispered by my right ear.
I turned and bumped into her boob, which was way to close to my head for protocol. It was the waitress. I could see two very bright blue eyes smiling at me, but mostly I just saw two huge tits few inches from my face, then she moved back.
“Better not, I’ll be up all night,” I said trying to distract myself from staring at the cleavage. She knew exactly what she was doing.
She leaned forward to whisper, almost hitting me with the tits, “I would like that, Sire.”
Okay, second time, “Sire?” I asked.
She did a very quick small curtsey, “yes, Sire.”
“Whew,” the air was rushing out and poker had lost all its importance. But she knew that.
“All in,” the player said.
“Okay,” I said and turned back to the table.
I heard, “yes, Sire,” me behind me.
“I call,” I said before I realized it. Fuck what do I have? I had him out chipped. This could be it.
“Turn em,” said the dealer.
Oh well, I flipped my hand over about two feet in front of me.
“Oh, sweet,” the player said.
I realized he was half way up the table, leaning over looking at my hand. There it was, 9-8-3-2 rainbow.
“Ugly,” I said, and looked down the table to see what he had. Ace- Ace- 10- 5. Very good hand. “Miracle dealer, I need a miracle.”
Cards came out, King, Queen, 3. I had a pair of threes to his Aces. Dead meat.
“I’m not gonna give you any sauce when I feed your balls to you, old man.” He was still standing in the middle of the table.
“Humiliate him, dealer, give me a 3,” I said looking at him.
The dealer turned up a beautiful red 3.
“Fuck,” he yelled. A fucking 3.
“Language, please, sir,” the dealer said.
I could see Janet walking toward the table. If I won, she wouldn’t have to say anything just pay him and it would be over.
Ten, the river card was a 10, “ I win.” I said. “Good game,” I said and reached to shake his hand.
He turned and walked back to get his jacket, did not look back. I shook hands with the dealer, who congratulated me. I took out my cash and tipped him $50. That was about right for $750 win. It was a little more than 5 % and they deserved it, dealing poker sucked.
“I brought, cream and sugar, Sire.” The voice said. I could feel her leaning over me, her boob brushed my arm as she placed the napkin, then sat the cup on the table. “Congratulations, Sire, you are the winner.”
The dealer had left, and Janet was talking to the other player who was getting his cash. I pulled out my cash again and held a dollar for her.
“Oh, no, Sire, I just wish to serve you, no money please.” She said, as she backed away slightly.
Janet was counting money; she would be at the table in a second, act now or lose.
“You know how to serve?” I asked, I knew the answer would be, but I had to make sure.
“Yes, Sire, I have been trained,” the smile was gone, she was nervous.
“Come back, when she is gone, “ I said. Nodding my head toward Janet.
“Yes, Sire,” she dipped slightly, lowered her head, turned and left.
“Well you won another one,” Janet said as she leaned over the table and began counting out the money.
“Was lucky, again,” I said watching the 100’s going next to each other.
“Six, seven, eight, fifty,” Janet said.
“I tipped the dealer, $50,” I said. The reason I told her, the tip was to be split between all the tournament dealers. Not a lot but I did not want them to screwed out of the little they had coming.
“Thanks,” Janet said, “you be here Wednesday?”
“Probably,” I answered. Thinking more about the tits that were coming back to the table. “Take care,” I said.
“Thanks, you too” She said as she walked out.
There was just enough light to see the cards in that corner of the sports book where they set up tables for weekly tournaments. I was glad it was spring, no Monday Night Football and all the drunken idiots yelling at the bank of screens along the top of the room. I am not sure which is worse football or baseball betters. All time losers are pro basketball betters. Lots of yelling and angry people when they are on.
“Sire, I only have a 15 minutes on my shift. May we talk some place else?” she asked. The nervousness was still apparent in her voice and body language. Except her tits, I don’t think tits can be nervous.
“Do you know where Romano’s is?” I asked.
“South Las Vegas?” She asked.
“Yes, 45 minutes work for you?” I said.
“Yes, Sire, thank you, Sire.” She dipped, lowered her head and left.
What’s the risk here? She’s a kook, a weirdo, a knife wielding whacko, a chick with a dick? This is Las Vegas, not much is outside the realm of possible here. She had a little skirt covering her ass. At Palace Station the waitresses had either a one-piece swimsuit type bottom with just the edge of their cheeks hanging out or they covered them up with the skirt. Usually the really nice asses were uncovered. Wonder if she’s a flat ass?
I really didn’t want the coffee. I got up and left. As I walked by the poker room, the nice ass was on duty. What an ass, no skirt, but she was married. So, never said anything other than “thanks.” When she brought me water or coffee. There was some soft money at the Omaha table, but I had other things to take care of.
Being a non-drinker ordering late nights is a strain. It was too late for coffee.
“Bring me a water, ice tea, one of those fruit thingies. No, make it two fruit thingies.” I said to the waitress. “Fruit thingies, what strange name for an item in a sports bar.”
“Yes, sir, thank you, sir,” the girl said, she was new and her mentor stood behind her watching her take the order.
Damn she is young. Has to be 21 to serve liquor but she looks 12, no tits and skinny, a very young face. She could pass for 12 if I saw her in the mall in jeans and a sweatshirt. Never understood what the fascination with the pre teen look the ad business had. She had on a multi colored, ribbed tube top even though it was cool in the desert at night. She was new.
Romano’s was a sports bar, big cavernous place, high ceilings, huge screens and giant speakers. It’s the penis thing again. Need a big speaker to be manly. This club was a stud then, they were huge. It was out south on the strip. Out where there was nothing but apartments, a couple of small strip centers and desert. Just a few miles north were the glitz and glamour. Here it was locals, just doing what locals do in a city where other than casino employee prostitute is probably the most common occupation.
The door opened and she bolted through, and then almost stopped. She was looking for me, but hesitant. I lifted my hand, she saw me and moved toward the table. By the time she got to the table, the waitress was there. Bad timing.
“I ordered a fruit thingie for you, what would you like to drink?” I asked.
“Fruit thingie is good, water, please.” She said.
“Water for her,” I said to the waitress.
She looked at me weird, “anything else,” she asked the girl?
“No,” I said bluntly.
The waitress, looked at me and drew her head back ask if to say, ‘what the _ _ _ _?”
The mentor behind her just laughed, “thank you, sir.” She said over the waitresses shoulder. Kind of tugged on her and they left.
“Sire, I want to thank you for allowing,” she started.
“What’s your name?” I said over her words.
“Sorry, Sire, my slave name or my real name? I could tell she was nervous she kept almost putting her hand to her mouth when she spoke. She was sitting very straight in the chair.
“Your real name, girl.” I said.
“Jenny, Sire, it’s Jenny.”
“Is that short for Jennifer?”
She nodded.
“Well, Jennifer, why do wish to serve me and why do you think I want someone to serve me?” I wanted to cut right to the point. Find out what her game was.
“Sorry, Sire, I saw your profile, and your website. I’ve read all your essays’ and you are so good.” Her words were running out now the hesitation was gone.
“Profile?” I interrupted her again.
“Alt, Sire, your profile. ‘Master seeks sweet young slave girl who lives to serve and please, and you have a link to your website, Sire.”
“So, you just walked up to some guy at a poker table and made your move, not knowing for sure it was me?”
“Oh, no Sire, Melissa is the one who said something first. I didn’t’ know about you, other than you were really sexy and won a lot.”
Ass girl was into bondage, so that’s why she always smiled at me when she brought me a drink. Mattered not, Melissa was still married.
“So you know what it takes to be a slave girl?” I was looking for the waitress when I asked. It was time for food.
“Oh, yes, Sire, I was trained to be a slave.”
I held up my hand and she stopped the food was approaching. She looked in the direction I was.
“She’s cute,” Jenny said watching the waitress walk toward us.
“She’s 12.”
“No she’s not.”
I turned toward her, and glared. Jenny lowered her eyes.
“Sorry, Sire,” Jenny mumbled.
The waitress set the two fruit bowls on the table. Mine was left at the other place and not put in front of me. Think miss teen didn’t like me much.
The mentor leaned forward, “his bowl,” she said to the waitress.
“Sorry, “ the waitress said and half pushed it toward me. “Anything else, she asked Jenny?
“No, we are fine, thank you.” I said, this time I was harsh.
The waitress spun around and ran into the mentor. As they walked off I could hear both of them talking. Didn’t matter. I tipped well and the regular waitresses liked me.
When I turned back to the table, Jenny was sitting there, her hands in her lap, eyes lowered.
“You may eat, Jennifer.”
“Thank you, Sire.”
Jenny was quiet and seemed to withdraw again. I ate and formulated what I wanted from her.
“Is it alright if I talk, Sire?” Jenny asked.
“Yes, if your mouth is empty.”
“Thank you, Sire. I have read all your essays; I know what you want in a slave girl. I want to be that girl for you, Sire.” Her eyes had a light in them again.
Jenny’s smile was nice, soft and she had nice lips too. Overall she was cute, not beautiful but cute, and sexy looking, but not very sexy wearing a blouse with that oversized windbreaker and jeans. No skin was visible; she had buttoned the blouse up, so no cleavage showed. At least she had shown up looking proper, that showed some taste.
From watching her walk to the table I could not tell but it looked like the complete package in the very tight jeans. The boobs were very big in proportion to her body but the windbreaker killed some of the shape and just made her look oversized above the waist. Curled her hair I would say, some lightening, could not see any roots so either very expensive or an almost blonde. And nice eyes, very soft, very sexy eyes that watched me intently when I spoke to her. She was looking for cues in my face.
“I, Sire,” Jenny started.
I stepped on her sentence again. “You have been trained as a slave?”
“Sorry, Sire, yes Sire.”
“By whom?”
“Master Tommy,” she said. It sounded almost apologetic.
“Was he a good Master?”
“Oh, yes, Sire,” Jenny stopped, put down her fork. The truth squad had just arrived. “Well, Sire, he tried but I wasn’t with him very long. I did learn everything he taught me. But, Sire, I have learned more about what a slave does from your pages than from him, Sire. Is that bad?”
Jenny put her hands in her lap. She lowered her head. “Are you disappointed, Sire? I said I was trained but I am not really. He mostly just wanted blowjobs. I didn’t learn much about what a slave feels when she feels pain for her Master.”
“He whip you?”
“No, Sire, he spanked me a few times but it was not what he wanted.”
“So you were a cock slave?”
“Yes, Sire, I guess I was just a cock slave?” Jenny’s head sank lower and she fidgeted with her hands.
“Waitress alert,” I said.
“Anything else,” Sir the mentor asked? She was alone this time.
“Not right now, Thanks.” The mentor disappeared.
I reached across the table, and lifted Jenny’s chin up. Her eyes were moist.
“You wish to be a slave?”
“Oh, yes, Sire?” There was suddenly a light in her eyes again.
I looked at the bar, scanned the room, no one was close.
“Unbutton your blouse.”
“Yes, Sire.” Jenny hurriedly opened her blouse.
“All the way to the waist.”
“Yes, Sire, sorry, Sire.”
“Bra hook in the front or back?”
“Front, Sire.”
“Unhook your bra,” I looked around quickly. “Take your tits out, lean forward, put them on the table, and hold your blouse out on each side to shield them from view. ”
“God, they were nice, big nipples.” I leaned forward, scanning the room, and put my hands under her boobs. I ran my thumbs across her nipples. They were hard. Big, round, hard nipples are such a turn on for me. I know it’s infantile, but who cares. I looked at her face, she was smiling.
“Go into the bathroom, take off your bra and panties, wash your pussy, Get it clean and come back.”
Jenny stood up, her tits flopping out of her jackets. “Oh,” she said quickly sitting down. “Sire?”
“Zip your windbreaker.”
“Yes, Sire, duh” She got up and started to turn, without zipping the jacket.
“Bag,” I said.
“Oh, sorry, Sire.” Jenny turned and reached down to grab the bag, her tits flopped out again, her face flushed. “Damnit.” She sat down and fumbled with her zipper until her jacket was closed, then reached for the bag, took it and went to the bathroom.
I could see the waitress coming. Check time. Then check out time.
“Anything else, sir,” the mentor asked? Again, she was solo. Which was fine with me.
“No, just tell me how much.”
“Nineteen forty five, sir.” She said laying the ticket on the table. New girl?” The mentor asked.
“Just a friend,” I said laying a twenty and a five on the table by the ticket.
She scooped up the money and ticket, left my copy and stepped back from the table. “Just like your last friend,” she said lifting her hand to her neck and moving it up and down as if adjusting a collar.
“Just a friend,” I said.
“Enjoy your friend, sir. Thank you.” She said and walked away.
What was it, must be giving off some kind of weird vibe to get that much attention. I could see Jenny walking across the mostly deserted room, a few heads at the bar turned to watch her. When she arrived at the table I stood up. She was standing just beyond me, I reached out, she gave me her hand. I pulled her toward me.
“You want to be my slave?”
“Yes, Sire?” Her eyes were soft; the tension was gone from her face.
“You ready to show me you are worthy of being my slave?”
“Yes, Sire, I have memorized all your essays and training. I brought a petition with me, Sire. Will you take me?”
“You ready for a test?” I tilted her head up toward me, her lips opened which is normal when a girl tilts her head back and is yielding. Her pupils were dilated.
“Yes, Sire, please test me.” Jenny voice was soft. I could hear in her voice that when she begged it would be good.
I took her hand and walked out the door half dragging Jenny. She was hurrying to keep pace with my long strides. I parked around the side of the building facing the back of the strip center next door. There was light back there but not a lot. I unlocked the door with the remote and dropped her hand as I approached the car. Jenny walked with me to my side of the car. I motioned to the other door.
“Get in.”
“Oh, sorry, Sire.”
I sat down, looked down; I could barely see the chain in the console. Now I knew why I had been carrying with me every day for two weeks. Jenny sat down. She put her hands in her lap and sat waiting but looking tense again. I picked up the chain.
“A collar, oh, Sire.” She leaned toward it and her body seemed alive again.
“Do you know what this is for, girl?”
“Yes, Sire it is for girl to wear to show she belongs to her Master.”
“And, it is for training, so that a Master can lead his girl, tie her up, use her. A girl wears this forever when she takes it.”
“Yes, Sire, I will never take it off.”
“Yes, girl, a collar is forever. Once a girl becomes a slave she is nothing without it. Once she gives herself completely to a Master withholds nothing she is no longer the same. Inside she will always ache when she is with out it. Are you ready to sacrifice you life? There will be no going back once you give yourself to slavery.”
“Sire, I will, I do not want to go back.”
I fiddled with the ring. I hated them, they were wound tight to stay together but hard to open, especially in the dark. Finally it opened and I turned it around until it fell off the chain. I held it up for her to see. Jenny’s reaction was to touch it but she stopped just short.
“Yes, you may.”
She touched it, almost in fear, then rubbed her thumb up and down the links. If I could have seen them I could probably have driven a truck through her pupils, she was eager to yield.
“Are you ready, girl? Ready to become a slave, to be owned, used, possessed body and soul by one without a thought for anything but his pleasure?”
Jenny was quiet. Moment of truth… she seemed frozen. “Yes, Sire, I wish to be your slave, forever.”
“Raise your hair,” I said, pulling the chain from her hand. Jenny resisted as it slipped between her fingers. She lifted the, just longer than shoulder length, thick, wavy hair and exposed her neck by tilting her head back. I put the chain around the back of her neck and draped it in front. I took her face in my hands. Looked in her eyes that were barely visible in the darkness. “Do you give yourself completely, without reservation to me, girl?”
“Yes, Sire.” There was a calm in her voice.
I took the ring and tried to open it again. Blew out a blast of breath in frustration. Jenny reached up touching my hands. I thought she was going to stop me. Her hands were trembling as she touched mine. Her head was still back exposing her neck. Finally the ring opened and I twirled it around the end of the chain. It slipped of the end and the chain was around her neck.
“There, girl” I said. I hooked the index finger of my left hand in the ring and tugged.
“Thank you, Master.” Jenny said, she her body seemed to be twitching, vibrating.
“I am not your, Master, I put a collar on your neck to begin the test, but you are just a girl, not my slave girl.”
“Sorry, Mass.. I mean, Sire. I thought that.” She was shaken, she felt trapped.
I increased the tension on the ring she leaned forward but more subconsciously than on purpose.
“Unzip your jacket.”
She was nervous as she pulled zipper down, but did not open the jacket. I changed hands in the ring, took my left hand and slid into her hair just behind her right ear. Jenny made a little “eep” sound accompanied by a short intake of air.
“Open your jacket.” I said increasing the tension on the chain and tightened my fingers in her hair. The “eep” was a bit more pronounced this time.
“Wider, all the way open,” I said and lessened the tension on the ring and on her hair. “Touch your nipples.” I watched she put her hands on them, but not with much effort. “Do you like touching your nipples?”
“Yes, Sire,” her voice was distant.
“Do you think that I am such an easy Master that a girl can show me her tits and win a collar?”
“No, Master, I just thought,”
I tightened the grip in her hair sharply and yanked on the ring.
“No, Sire, I am sorry.” Jenny lowered her head.
“Take off your jeans.” I increased the volume to be more like an order, released her hair and the ring and sat back in my seat.
The jeans were tight so, they did not slide off easily. I looked past her, the tinting on the windows blocked out most of the light, so unless one had a light outside they could not see her inside.
“There you are, Sire.” She said after straightening back up.
“Shoes off?”
“Yes, Sire.”
“Good.” I leaned toward her again. Took the ring in my right index finger, put my hand on her left breast. The nipple was hard, very hard, so while she may be upset that it was not easy, she is still very aroused.
“You wet?”
“Sire?”
“Your cunt wet?”
“Yes, Sire, very.” There was an amusement in her tone.
“Show me, girl.”
“Sire?
“Show me the desire to please me.”
“Yes, Sire.” She started to reach for me.
My hand on the ring on her collar did not move and she was stopped from moving toward me.
“Sire?”
“Rub your clit, girl”
Again, she was following orders but not really into it. I took her left nipple between my index finger and thumb. I began to roll it harder and harder. An “eep” came from her and she shook her head involuntarily. I squeezed very hard and twisted.
“Oh, God, Master.” Jenny said.
I dropped the tit, pulled on the ring and grabbed her hair twisting her head slightly with my grip.
“I am sorry, Mast.. I mean Sire. I am sorry. Please forgive me, please,” her shoulders dropped forward in a submissive posture. She relaxed against the pressure of my grip and let her head fall against my hand. I could feel her hand moving between her legs.
“Cunt feel good?”
“God, yes, Mast… I mean, Sire, Yes, Sire, it feels very good, thank you, Sire.”
I moved my left hand from her hair down between her legs. I took her labia between my thumb and forefinger. I squeezed gently, she was still rubbing her clit. Her breath was getting shallow.
“Suck you left nipple.”
After a hesitation, she moved the nipple to her mouth, “Yes, Sire,” the latter part of the word was butchered as she took the nipple in her mouth.
Increasing he pressure on her labia I twisted it slightly, she moaned for the first time.
“Take your top off.”
“Yes, Master.”
I twisted my thumb and forefinger sharply.
“Ahhh,” Jenny almost yelled. “I am sorry, Mast.. I mean Sire, I am so nervous, turned on, confused, I am sorry, I don’t mean it. I just…”
“Hush” I stopped squeezing her labia. Her body relaxed in a heap in the seat.
“Top.”
“Yes, Ma..s., I mean, Sire.” Jenny caught herself, and pulled the top off in one motion. But the buttons at her wrist would not allow her to slide the cuffs of the blouse off.
“Shit,” she said trying to unbutton them wrong side out.
The tension in my thumb and forefinger tightened. “A girl does not cuss.”
“I’m sorry, Sire, I am just a dumb bitch.” Jenny wasn’t really focused on what she was saying but trying to get the cuffs off.
I squeezed my nails into her labia.
“Master does not own anything but the best. Dumb bitches are never in his life. Understand, girl.”
“Yes, Master, I mean sorry, Master, I mean sorry.” She was visible shaken. “I can’t get anything right.”
I interrupt her, “Hush.” Hold up your hands. I took the jacket off her wrists. Then turned the cuffs right side. “Now unbutton them.”
“Thank you,” this time Jenny paused, “Sire,” she added. Cuffs unfastened she took the blouse off.
“Sit on your feet in the seat.” I ordered.
Jenny understood the direction and folded her feet under her in the seat. I brushed her face with the back of right hand. Then down to her right nipple. It was no longer hard, beautiful warm soft nipple, large around and not too long, perfect nipple. She shivered when I moved over to the other one. It was a bit firmer than the first.
“Put your head in the floor, leave your knees on the seat.”
“Yes, Sire,” she said then leaned forward, bracing her hands on the dash then down to the floor.
Her ass was up in the air. It was soft, nice round cheeks, I ran my hands over her cheeks and down the inside of her thighs. Soft very soft, very nice thighs up and down and up to her pussy. There was just a patch of hair, the thin stripper patch.
“You a stripper?”
“Yes, Sire, part time, Crazy Horse, sometimes for extra money.”
I slid my hand up and down her pussy; it was not dripping but moist inside. I pushed inside just enough to feel the wetness, up to her clit, it was getting hard. I slid one finger inside. Started short, slow strokes in and out. The juices were beginning to come down onto my finger, she was moving with me, slightly leaning into my finger as it went into her. I slipped a second finger in her. She moaned. Her cunt was tight.
“Kids?”
“No…” again, she paused, “Sire,” said as she breathed out, she was getting tuned up again. “ I cannot have children.” She stopped. “Please do not be mad at me, I am trying to please you.”
“Are you a slut, girl?” Critical question, how would she answer it?
“No,…” Pause… “Sire.” Her breath was getting short, she was moving to meet my fingers, wanting more of them than I would give her.
“Do you want a slut…) Pause, this time because was about ready to cum, “ah, I am so turned on, I want you so much, I want to please you, Master… please, I mean Sire.”
“Do you like to suck dick, girl?”
“Yes, I love to suck cock, I want to suck your cock, can I please.,, ah… ah.. please…” She was about ready to cum. She was thrusting into my fingers, her breath was rapid and short.
“Suck your thumb, girl, show me what a good cocksucker you are.”
“Mast… Master, it’s hard… “ The sound was interrupted by her thumb going in her mouth. Her hips were pushing forward in quicker and quicker motions trying to get my fingers deeper but I stopped them so that only the first two knuckles went in.
“Uh, Uh, Uh,” Jenny was cumming, she clamped down on my hand with her thighs.
“Spread ‘em.” I said, pushing my fingers deep into her cunt. I wiggled them as best I could, then pushing down on the inside wall I tried to get my whole hand inside her, knowing of course it would stop with only two fingers in her.
“Ah, ah, ah… ah…” Jenny kept saying.
I pulled the fingers out a bit and added my thumb. It would not go in very far that way but would stretch her. She shuddered and rotated her hips a couple times. I reached my left hand under and grabbed her clit. It was swollen. I clinched it between my thumb and forefinger. Jenny let another small orgasm go. She was sucking loudly on her thumb and moaning, pushing her hips forward trying to get more of my thumb and fingers inside of her. I increased the effort to fuck her with my hand, she was wound up so nothing mattered she just wanted more.
My thumb was far enough in to get some juices on it, so I pulled it out and plunged the two fingers deep in side of her, grinding my knuckles against her pelvis, turning them slightly, then pressing very hard on the wall, then quickly out and plunged it back in repeating the motions. Her hips pushed back against my knuckles and rotated a couple of times then back against my knuckles.
I started pulling on her clit with the fingers of my other hand, as if I were jacking it off. Out, back, out back, holding it tight while I pulled it hard then back against her. I did it quickly, she was just moaning and making sounds with her thumb in her mouth. Another orgasm was coming. I slipped my thumb into her cunt, wet it and out up and put the tip of it into her ass.
“Ahhh…. God,… Master… “ She clinched on my hand…. “Ahhhh.” She was cumming harder than any of the times before. “Ahh…”
“Bang, bang, bang,” she was hitting her head against the underneath side of the console as she lunged from my fingers to my thumb. She was trying to get both deeper inside of her.
“Spread ‘em,” I ordered. She was hanging on to my hand with her thighs. “Spread,” I said again.
She relaxed a bit but her hips still rocked from front to back trying only to get more inside of her. They were short spasmodic thrusts. I could still hear her sucking.
“God, Master, let me please you, please, let me please you, please.”
I pulled my thumb out of her ass and my fingers out. She moaned.
“Sit on your feet.”
Thank you… emm… Sire,” she said she pushed herself up out of the floorboard.
“Mass.. Sire, that was so wonderful,” she said and started to lean into me.
I held my fingers up, “lick them clean, girl.”
She took my hand in both her hands and sucked on my fingers.
I took a handful of hair on the back of her head and lifted it. “Clean, not suck.”
“Yes,.. … Sire.” Then she ran her tongue up and down the length of my fingers. Turned her head around my hand as she held it to lick the fingers clean.
I watched her; she had given up all reservations. Jenny was eager, she had lost all the fear from the first few minutes in the car. Her tongue darted in and out of her mouth to keep it moist, then long strokes up on my hand and fingers, She cleaned my hand completely.
I slid the index finger of right hand into ring on the collar and pressed upward forcing her mouth away from my hand. She was puzzled.
“Are you ready to be a slave?”
“Yes, anything, I’ll do anything you want.”
“Sure?”
“Yes, just tell me and I will do it.”
“Put your clothes on.”
“Master? I mean Sire, what?”
“Put hour clothes on.”
“But, but, but…”
“Hush, do as you are told.”
Jenny took the blouse from the floor, slipped it on, not buttoning it, and then she fought to pull her jeans on. Then put on her shoes.
“Jacket too.”
She made a pouty face. Got the jacket from the floor and put in on. Her tits were still hanging out of her blouse. I looked at her; she was upset, and confused.
I sat back in my seat.
“You ready, girl?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Yes, what?”
“What do you want, Master or slave, I mean, Sire?”
“What have you been told?”
“Sire.” She paused, “Yes, Sire I am ready.”
“My email address and my Yahoo IM are on my website.”
“Yes, Sire, I know, what they are.”
“Good, when you get home, email me. And I will email you my cell number.”
“Oh, thank you, … Sire.”
“From then until 5 am you will write down every number, fact, scrap of your life in a word document. When one page is full, you will IM me that page. I want to know everything about you, your history, your family’s history, every guy you fucked, wanted to fuck, and every cunt you sucked or wanted to suck. I want to know every dirty little secret in your life and every dirty fantasy. Your accomplishments, your dreams your failures. At 5 am you will write an essay telling me why I should take you as a slave, what you bring to me, what your strengths are what your weaknesses are. What life as my slave will be like. At 6:30 you will write a petition and that will be the final IM. When that is completed you will email me all the word documents.
At 7 am, not before, you are to call my cell number. You will read your petition of request to me. After I have heard that, you will be dismissed. If I want you I will call you sometime this week.”
“Do you understand?”
“I am not sure I can remember all that. Sire. I so want to call you Master, I want to please you, show you how good a slave….”
“Hush.”
She stops and slumps back into the seat.
“When you email me I will send you an email with all these instructions in it. Your IM’s will have a time stamp on them. I will know how often you send them and if you have done as instructed. I get up at 5am, so I will have read everything before you call.”
“Understand?”
“Yes…... Sire.”
“You may go, be safe girl.” I brush her face with the back of her, let my fingers linger on her check then drop my hand to the seat. I nod.
She gets out of the car. She stops, turns and looks at me. She wants to say something there are small tears in the corner of her eyes. Realizes I am not available and closes the door. Across the parking lot she is half scuffing her feet, as if in a pout, then she lifts her head, reaches up toward her neck, probably touching the chain, quickens her pace to the car.
In the parking lot light I can see her outline in the skintight jeans.
“She has a nice ass.”
aKKing
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I've never been there. Care to give me any advice about the place as well as best places to go for the BDSM lifestyle?
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