Useful Slave

I haven't decided if I like this new red page, but I was tired of the old colors, so I'm trying something new. 

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I had just dropped the kid off at his game of capture the flag yesterday when Master called me from home and asked if I was coming home any time soon.   I said I was on my way, and he lowered his voice and told me,  "You better be wet and willing, bitch."  

It was all I could do to keep my car at the speed limit after that.  I wanted to fly home, but didn't want to get stopped by the Popo and get in trouble with Master too.  The whole time I was imagining being on my knees in front of him, taking his growing cock in my mouth, having my hair pulled back...

When I got home, I practically dashed up the stairs into the house. He told me to wait for him upstairs.   I took off my clothes and waited in position.  When he got there he ordered me to put my skirt back on.  Just the skirt, nothing else.

I stood next to him.  He pulled my head back by my hair so I was looking up at him.  His other hand went through my collar and twisted it.  My heart pounded.

"Do you know why I bought you?"

My mind raced around for an answer, thinking "Oh, we are doing a play thing!"  I didn't come up with anything so I replied,

"I don't know, Master".

"For sucking and fucking, of course, little slave girl.  Which one are you better at?"

Again my brain floundered.

"Both, Master?"

"We will see," he said, pushing me down to my knees by my collar.  "If you can do an adequate job with your mouth I may fuck you.  Otherwise, I might just come all over your face and leave you unsatisfied.  Would you like that, slave?"

Now I knew the right answer.

"Whatever you want, Master."  

My mouth was then busy with his cock.  I guess I did all right!

He stepped away from me and pushed me down to my hands and knees.   Throwing my skirt up over my back, he lined up, positioned himself and took me with one hard, deep thrust.  It felt violent.  I gasped and tried to relax against his further painful, pounding thrusts.  To accentuate the effect he punched me with his fist in rhythm with the fucking.

When he told me to come I did, hard.

He pulled out and ordered me up.  He held both my wrists in his one hand over my head, pinning them to the wall.   Master drew his other hand way back.  I struggled inside myself not to move as he slapped my breast hard, then drew back for another good swing.  And and few more on each.  

 He spun me, bent me over at the window sill, my hands on the chaise under it and, lifting my skirt again, he fucked me as we looked out on the pastures.  "All mine," he said to me.  "Yes, Master."  He pulled me back until I couldn't rest my hands on the chaise longue anymore.  "Put your hands on the floor."  I was very unsure about this, but I did it.  Then he proceeded to lift one of my legs up in the air so I was a tripod, and he was still fucking me!   I felt about to collapse, but I willed more strength into my arms and managed to stay up until he ordered me to orgasm.  Then I did collapse on to the floor. 

He took me to the bed and fucked me every sort of way.  At one point he had a finger in my butt.  When I was on top of him a few minutes later he put his hand up to my mouth "Suck my thumb that was in your ass."  I dutifully took his thumb in my mouth and sucked it, but knew right away that it was the clean one, that he was just messing with me.  I can tell a clean thumb from a butt thumb!

He told me repeatedly that I was a worthless cunt, just a hole, only good for fucking and barely even good for that.  I felt like I was falling down a deep well, but a little light showed at the top still, which I held on to: he doesn't mean it.  But it was so hot to be told those things while my cunt was gripping him and the pleasure built up and up into peaks, was released by orgasm, and then began building over again as he said more horrible and insulting things to me. It was fantastic.