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Master, The Pretty Slave Girl, And His Mistress, Chapter 1

They were playing chess. He was teaching her. He had played chess for many years and believed it might be of value to her to understand the game. He used chess as a metaphor for certain types of confrontations. He enjoyed the elegance of the various openings, in this game, he had tried to execute The King’s Indian, a somewhat complex opening, but her play was so erratic he had to modify his plans.

He was four, no, five moves from mate and was bored going through a sure thing. Suddenly his demeanor changed, he looked over at her and said casually, “Okay pretty slave girl, that’s enough, you know what you have to do.”

“But,” she stammered.

“Oh dear, that was a mistake, that will cost you five,” he said.

“No… wait..” She was clearly flustered.

“Goodness me, that’s another five,” he said.

She visibly shrank in the chair, “Yes Master,” she said meekly.

“Upstairs or downstairs, Sir?”

“I think we’ll start downstairs.”

She immediately arose from her chair and walked to bedroom at the back of the house. She undressed down to her panties and bra, folding her clothes neatly and placing them on the bed. Then walked to the wall and stood facing it with her hands on the wall above her head. She waited several minutes alone until he came in.

“Your punishment is coming, but first we’re doing something else,” he said as he walked into the room and stepped behind her.

“Yes Sir,” is all she said.

He began tracing the edges of her brassiere. Her excitement, which had begun immediately with her saying “yes Master,” was only increasing. When he cupped one of her breasts she moaned.

“Ohhhh…”

“There is no moaning,” he said sternly. “All you may do is purr, like a cat.”

She was confused. She tried several ways of purring before she found one which she was happy with.

“Well, that’s something we’ll have to work on, “ he said. “Really, a dog-girl should be able to do a pussycat, don’t you think so pretty slave girl?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Now, let me tell you the rules of this game, the pretty slave girl can purr but can’t make any other noises. Also, and this is very important, the pretty slave girl cannot have an orgasm until Master says it’s okay. Is that clear?”

“Yes Sir.”

“The pretty slave girl has already earned herself 10 good ones. If she can play by the rules, she can erase 3.” As he said this, he was lightly biting her neck and undoing the clasps of her bra. When it was done, he moved her hands down, slipped the bra off her arms and tossed it on the bed with her other clothes. Then he moved her hands back onto the wall above her head.

He took both nipples between his thumb and index finger and pulled on them hard. She gasped.

“Oh dear, pretty slave girl, that’s two more, you’re going the wrong way.”

He pulled and stroked her nipples and breasts for several minutes and then his hand went down between her legs. He could feel her clitoris. It was swollen and hard. He massaged it, gently at first and then harder. Her breathing was getting ragged, her excitement beyond her control, suddenly an orgasm flooded over her.

“Oh my god,” she gasped.

He slowed and then stopped. Her breathing became more measured. The orgasm subsiding, she was anxious, worried about the punishment, for not abiding by the rules.

He moved her hands down to her sides then slowly turned her around. The front of her panties were stained with her cum. A small wet spot could be seen.

“Oh my, I see the pretty slave girl has wet her pants. What shall we do?”

He knelt before her, pushing her legs further apart and then putting his mouth on the wet spot and chewing and licking her clitoris through her panties. It was not long before she climaxed again. Again, he allowed her breathing to become more regular before slipping the wet panties off and taking her clitoris into his mouth and sucking hard on it. She leaned back against the wall bracing herself with her hands, angling her hips up, allowing him to get more of her into his mouth. It was only a short while until she had her third orgasm.

“Oh my god,” she said without thinking.

He immediately arose. “Hmmmm, a talking pussycat. Will wonders never cease?”

She stood naked before him, her mind reeling with ideas of what the severity of her punishment might be for so very much, not abiding by the rules of the game.

“Well, by my count that was three orgasms. Am I correct, pretty slave girl?”

“Yes”

“I’m sorry, what?” he said with irritation in his voice.

“Yes Sir,” she said quickly, correcting herself.

“So, let’s see, the oh my god’s we have set at two each, I just can’t see the orgasms at less than three each. There was the ten from before, plus the two oh my gods, that’s fourteen, three orgasms without permission, is another nine, for a total of twenty-three.”

“Oh, pretty slave girl, that is going to be quite a red bottom. I tell you what, we’ll play another game upstairs, perhaps, with some luck, you can lower your number.”

She breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

“Okay pretty slave girl, scoot along.”

“Yes Master,”she said as she made her way to the stairs. In the upstairs room she took a dog collar from a desk drawer and put it on. Then she took a blindfold. Next, she walked to the foot of the bed where she knelt on a mat. At that point she put on the blindfold and waited, wondering what this next game might possibly be.

She heard him moving about downstairs putting things onto a tray. She felt it must have been five or ten minutes before she heard his footsteps on the stairs. In fact, it had been only four minutes.

“Okay pretty slave girl, I have a little job for you before we get to our next game.”

She heard him unzip his pants. She imagined him taking out his cock.

“Here is the job, clean Master’s cock, but you may not touch Master with your hands, and you can only lick Master, like a dog.”

She leaned forward and began licking along the shaft of his cock she so wanted to take it into her mouth, but she didn’t dare break another rule. After a few minutes he said, “Okay, that’s enough. Time for our next game.”

He put his cock back into his pants and then rezipped them. He took her by her left arm, helped her stand and then moved her to the middle of the bed.

“Put your hands together above your head.”

She immediately did as he asked. He tied her hands together above her head and then tied the rope to the bed frame. Next, he took her right leg, made a knot around her ankle and then tied the other end to the bed frame above her head forcing her leg into the air. He repeated it on the other leg. She had never felt so exposed and vulnerable. Her mind raced through possibilities a combination of excitement and apprehension. He leaned next to her ear and whispered.

“Are you my pretty slave girl?”

“Yes Sir, forever Sir.”

He straightened up and spoke in normal volume.

“Okay, we are at twenty-three, that is eleven more than you have ever gotten at once. So here is the game, I am going to put something on either your nipples or your lovely pussy. If you guess what it is, you reduce by three the number of spanks you get. If you wish to smell and then guess, you reduce the number of spanks by two. If you wish to taste it, you reduce the number by only one.”

“I have four sensations for you to experience. You can choose nipple or pussy. “

She immediately said, “Nipple, please Sir.” She had decided that, because of her position with her breasts being put up so close to her head she might be able to smell what was being put on her nipples without even having to ask.

He rubbed the semi clear liquid onto her nipple. Her nipple immediately began to harden. It smelt sweet and sour at the same time.

“Is it, lemon juice?” she asked.

“I’m sorry,” he said with irritation in his voice.

“I’m sorry Master.” She said quickly followed by, “Is it, lemon juice Sir?”

“Good for you, you got it. However, I am pondering if the pretty slave girl should get the points, considering the disrespectful way she addressed Master.”

“I’m sorry Master, please forgive me. I promise I won’t forget again, ever, I promise.” Her tone was so remorseful, her apology so sincere, he smiled, which, because of the blindfold, she could not see.

“Okay, you can have the points pretty slave girl.”

“Down to twenty, good for you. What a clever pretty slave girl.”

He put his mouth on her nipple and licked and sucked off the lemon juice.

“Okay, next, nipple or pussy?”

“Nipple please Sir.”

It felt viscous there was no smell. No, there was, but slight.

“Is it, is it melted chocolate Sir?”

“My goodness, you are quite the clever, pretty slave girl.”

He put his mouth over her nipple and again licked and sucked off all the chocolate.

“Down to seventeen, good for you.”

“Nipple or pussy?”

“Nip-” she began to say when he interrupted her.

“You know what, I’m picking this time. I think the way I have you tied up has given an advantage which I had not anticipated.”

He rubbed something on her clitoris, it felt cold and hot at the same time.

“I don’t know, Sir. I need to taste it Sir.”

He reached down to her exposed pussy and rubbed his finger along her clitoris, then put the finger in her mouth. She could taste herself, her mind flashed across all the women she had been with, the women she had tasted, and something else.

“Is it, mustard Sir?

“Good for you. Down to sixteen pretty slave girl.”

He put his head between her legs licking the mustard off her clitoris, she moaned.

“Last one, and it’s dealer’s choice.”

She felt something gritty being rubbed on her clitoris.

“Is it pepper?” she said quickly it felt hot.

“Sorry pretty slave girl, you should have gotten that one. After all it is one of your many names.”

“Cinnamon?”she asked.

“Excuse me,” he said, his voice raised.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry Master. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry Master.”

“You clearly have a distinct understanding of the word forever, I thought, and correct me if I wrong,”he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “you promised that particular indiscretion would never happen again.” “This is a punishment that I will enjoy,” he added. “Sixteen, my goodness.”

“But I can be benevolent,” he said after a moment. “I tell you what, if I use the riding crop it drops to eight. Pretty slave girl’s choice.”

“Can… Master… can I do a combination?” she asked.

“Certainly.”

“Then…then...then Master please, eight spanks and four with the riding crop.”

“Very good. We’ll reduce the spanks to 6 and the riding crop to two in honor of your excellent math skills.” She beamed.

She counted out the spanks as he had asked. The two sharp slaps with the riding crop were accompanied by her cries of pain. He then undressed, left her tied as she was and had his way with her, each thrust filled with pleasure and pain as he moved against her very red bottom. They came together.

He pulled himself out and then untied her. Lying next to her, he said, “Was that fun, Love?”

“Oh my god, that was amazing.”

He kissed her with great tenderness. “I’ll be right back.” He arose, went downstairs and returned with a warm wet washcloth, a towel, and ointment. He cleaned her gently, dried her, and then kissed her clitoris. Then he turned her over and applied the ointment to her very red bottom.

“After that,” he said, “I can’t imagine what’s in store for me.”

“Yeah,” she said, raising one eyebrow, “just you wait enry iggins, just you wait.”