Unknown - Her brute master

He didn't stop there. He had me frig myself to orgasm again and again while He watched. Three more times, when I had succeeded in exciting Him, He gave me the pleasure of His cock in my ass. I began to want it there more than in my pussy.

Days of pleasure swam together blending into an endless stream of orgasms, punctuated only by hours of foreplay. Eventually I dragged myself back to objective reality enough to register for my summer school class and buy my books.

I can't adequately describe the feeling of unreality that pervaded my excursion from Bel Air back to my former world of school and students my own age. First of all, my knees were constantly weak, as if I might faint at any moment. I seemed to be looking down on myself from a height above my head. I was observing as much as I was participating in my life. None of it seemed to matter a great deal.

I felt a sense of lack of memory, as if I had forgotten something, something that was right in front of me but I couldn't think of what it was. A thrill of panic thrummed under every breath, under each mundane action. Something important was slipping past me, it was within my reach and I couldn't even see it, much less catch it.

"Hi, you're Jodie, aren't you?"

I was walking from the bookstore back to the dormitory. I wanted to pick up some more clothes so I would have some variety for classes back at my master's house, so I could spend even more time there. I was wondering if I would be able to find time to study between orgasms when the voice came over my shoulder and startled me back to campus and college life.

"Yes." I turned. The boy was one I recognized but I couldn't think of his name. "I know you, don't I? You're…"

"Art, Arthur Clark. We were in calculus together last semester." His smile was shy and gentle. He reminded me of little puppy.

"I remember you," I said, "you sat across the room from me."

"That's right, I was the one that stared at you day after day."

I felt my cheeks turn red. I was surprised and pleased that I could still respond to people so seemingly naturally. "Why didn't talk to me instead of just staring?" To my surprise, I found myself wanting to flirt with him.

"You were always walking with that fellow Brad. I didn't want to interfere."

"What made you decide to talk to me now?" I fluttered my eyelashes and tried my best to look demure.

"You're not with Brad for one thing, and besides…" he hesitated.

"Yes?"

"I don't know. There's something different about you, now. You're not the same as you were last semester."

"How do you mean, different?"

"Sort of dreamy. You were always so intense last year, as if everything you did was for keeps. Now, you look sort of relaxed, as though you were playing a game."

"I… I've gotten a job," I said.

"It's had quite an effect on you." He looked at me affectionately. "Is your job connected with your major?"

"No, not at all." I wanted to change the subject. My position with my master was too personal for me to discuss it with anyone. "But it is very demanding. I guess the change you see in me is the result of hard work."

"Well, hard work certainly seems to agree with you," he said, "you're radiant."

"Thank you."

We were nearing the dormitories. The air between us was becoming charged with sexual energy. The simple fact of his youthful virility elicited a sympathetic response in my genitals. I pressed my thighs together as we walked, wondering if I should let him seduce me.

Would my master allow me to have other lovers? We had never discussed it. We never discussed anything. My master treated me like property, and I felt fulfilled by it.

It made no sense to me, this relationship that I had developed with a man whose name I did not even know. It was as though He wasn't a person, He was a force, He was the personification of authority, He was to be adored and obeyed, not understood. My common sense rebelled at the demeaning nature of my subservience to Him, but I couldn't help but feel a thrill of pleasure at the mere thought of my beloved master. I started daydreaming about the thrill of excitement I would feel when my master wanted to punish me.

"Jodie, are you all right?"

"What? Oh…" He brought me back to the present. I shook my head, trying to clear it. "You had a funny look on your face, kind of hypnotized looking."

"I'm sorry," I said, "I must have drifted off. I've been working hard, as I said."

"Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?" he asked.

"No, thank you," I was torn, I wanted to say yes but my first response was no, as if I didn't have the right to offer myself to anyone without my master's permission. "I'd like to but I have to go back to my job tonight."

"Sure, I understand."

"Honestly, Art, we'll get together another time, I promise." I hoped I was telling him the truth. I liked him.

After dinner that night, my master called me into His bedroom. He was dressing to go out.

"I'll be back later this evening, my dear," He said.

"I'll wait up for you," I said.

"That will not be necessary, my dear. Will you be able to amuse yourself while I'm out?" He stroked my hair and ran His fingertips along the line of my jaw. He tapped my chin gently.

I felt the power in His hand. It was strong and vibrant, held in check by His will. I wondered if I would feel it unleashed. My pussy itched when I thought of Him slapping my face, or my bottom.

"Yes, Sir, I'll be fine." All my speculation of that afternoon was forgotten. It was as though His influence obliterated all other thoughts. I could only think of how I'd greet Him on His return. I avoided all thought of His absence.

He was cool and elegant in His cream colored flannel suit. His tan skin and dark hair contrasted handsomely with the soft fabric.

He told me nothing except that He was leaving and would return. He looked at me steadily. His eyes were unreadable, their lids concealed His intentions under their lazy glance. I saw I was left to my own devises.

I managed to spend an hour preparing for my first class which was coming up in two days. Fortunately, I had no assignment to complete, my mind continually wandered. I couldn't quite bridge my two realities. They tugged me in opposite directions, independence-subservience, self-assertion-self-debasement, and on and on. I tumbled through vast volumes of doubt and uncertainty.

I decided to take a shower in order to be ready for His return, should He want to use me for His pleasure. I noticed it was time to shave my pussy again, the pubic hairs were growing like whiskers around the lips. I scratched myself there, kind of like a cat would, it felt good.

I turned the water on full and stepped into the steamy spray. Then I shut off the water and covered myself with thick foamy suds, using a big loofa sponge to rub in almond oil and peppermint soap. I completely covered my body with the slippery, creamy soap suds.

Then I took a new razor and shaved my entire body. From neck to ankles, every square inch of skin was put to the double-edged blade and shaved smooth as a baby's bottom.

I thought about shaving my head as well. I wondered if my master would like that, if He would appreciate my voluntary subjugation. I'm sure He would, I'm sure he'd like to see me temporarily disfigure myself for Him.

I tried to go to bed, to just not think about anything. I powdered myself and pulled my hair back in a pony-tail. I climbed between clean linen sheets but could not close my eyes. I craved some contact, some indication of direction. Should I give myself fully to my master, or should I develop my independent self? Could I even make a decision? Truly, it felt like I had no choice other than to submit completely to the strong, pervasive domination of my master.