Master was playing his game one handed. I was bent over the kitchen table next to him. His finger was under my robe, on my hole. He stroked me, fondled me, told me to wait, made me say dirty sexy things to him. I felt like a thing, an object for him to pet, and I was wrapped up in haze of desire. Just a little further in, please, please, my cunt was screaming for it, though I was (mostly) quiet, and still his finger stayed on the outer edge.
He spoke rarely, to tell me what to say, or to comment "You're wetting your panties, aren't you girl?" Humiliated, burning with that, so easy to humiliate, I said "Yes, Master".
"Say it", he said. I did repeat what he said.
I wiggled my rear into his hand.
I hadn't been allowed to touch myself that day because he wanted me to be extra horny. I don't know if not having that one orgasm actually makes a difference, but certainly the thought of wanting to do it but not being allowed makes me want it even more.
Of course it does. Wanting but not having. Not being allowed.
He'd already whalloped me hard with the new slapper a few times.
Master asked me if I knew what he wanted next. I had a good guess. He shifted in his seat and I got on my knees.
I really thought he was going to come, but he kept pushing me back, making me slow down.
He took me upstairs and had me lie face down on the bed for the cane, several canes actually, the misery stick, a paddle. It was painfully delicious, he made me wait at first and then let me come, and come some more. I have a definitely sore bum today, between that and the slapper.
He rolled me over when he couldn't wait any longer, put my legs up over his shoulders and used me for his little fuckhole. So good to be his.
Tomorrow will be a whole new year! I'm looking forward to many more adventures and deliciousness then! Happy new year to all of you!
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