As a Fuck toy, I don’t have choices in where I sleep at night.
One night I’ll be in someone’s bed getting my whore mouth fucked, the next I’ll be strapped to a concrete slab in some warehouse with the ropes wrapped so tight that I can feel my nipples going numb.
I can have any one of my wet holes filled with anything imaginable, and some unbelievable, at any given time, and it almost always hurts.
I rarely have a say in anything.
But the pain makes it all worth it, that rush when skin finally breaks and blood oozes, when flesh gets torn off of bone.
That’s how I end up spending the night with Him.
I showed up to his hotel room, he was traveling for work and lonely.
Lonely probably isn’t the right word, more like horny.
Happily married, well employed, a man content with his life, almost.
He had a secret, and I wouldn’t be in his hotel room if he didn’t need to fulfill that particular need.
He surprised me right away, he actually said hello to me, asked me how I was doing. He even took my coat off and asked if I needed anything, not the usual way that a Master would treat their property.
It made me uncomfortable, and he saw that right away. His personality shifted immediately as he glared at me and grabbed my hair, kissing me so hard that his teeth broke my bottom lip open.
I could feel my slit leak as he sucked my blood in his mouth and tore off my shirt and bra.
He shoved me to the floor and told me that he didn’t approve of the slutty way that I dressed, which confused me even more. I was wearing a thin halter top and a leather mini skirt so short that my ass cheeks hung out.
Don’t all Masters like slaves wearing as little clothing as possible?
He sat back on the bed and took off his belt, unzipping his pants to pull out a thick monster cock, rock solid and already leaking precum.
I wanted to suck that meat stick more than anything else in the world, but I may be a worthless whore but I’m not an idiot.
I sat on the floor until he gave me permission to crawl to him.
Once I got to his feet he dragged me over his lap and pulled off my skirt, then started cracking that belt over my entire ass, whipping it raw and bleeding until he moved on to my thighs, going all the way down to my knees.
I’m all drool and tears when he finally changes the belt for his bare hand, which is gently caressing my bloody bum. He makes me count out twenty very hard swats to my already abused ass before he is finally satisfied.
Then he flips me over and does the one thing that I was not expecting.
He holds me in his arms, firm cock pressing into my crack, and he tells me that he doesn’t like for his toys to show other men what belongs to him.
He strokes my hair and tells me what a good little slave I have been, then he tells me I can call him Paul.
I have had a lot of Masters, but only one of them lets me call him Paul.
The rest of the night was a gentle bliss filled blur.
