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Kat walked down the private runway, nervously showing off an expensive powder blue dress, with tie up high-heeled sandals. Her blond hair was pulled back, highlighting the features of her face: clear blue eyes, full lips, raised cheekbones. The dress fit her snugly, every curve of her body on display for the lone man sitting in the cushy chair in the front of the pit of the runway. She only knew her name because it had been part of the Old Life, before she had met him and embraced her New Life. He provided the rational answers to the questions that nagged her at every turn. Ever since she had given herself to him, there was a strange sense of joy. Yet how could this be? he explained to her that she was only part of the equation, not the entire thing. She was to be valued, but she was still property - his property. He treated her well, but he didn't allow her a name, which puzzled her at first. "You aren't ready for a name yet." She didn't know his either. She settled for calling him Master or Sir, which he accepted with a boyish grin that made her knees weak.
His physical attributes weren't as important as his personality. He brought clarity to her mind, introducing new concepts to her that kept her awake for the first few nights they were together. The games they played made her feel free, even though there were new restrictions imposed, rules to be memorized, and adhered to. She prided herself on being obedient since that usually was awarded with new privileges she had taken for granted from her Old Life: time for sleeping in, time to talk on the phone, showing time to herself, time out with her friends.
The game they played today was a new one, therefore she could not predict what the outcome would be, nor her reward. She walked up and down the runway, her hips swaying from side to side, her feet taking careful steps in the high shoes. One privilege she hadn't obtained yet was to wear flat shoes. She did not dare question his rule, but did find making breakfast in pumps most rather difficult.
He called out to her. "That will be enough. I've seen enough." His tone sounded irate, so she thought it safe to ask, "Did I displease you, Sir?" He shook his head. "No, I've just dressed you in three outfits that look all the same to me, and now I'm bored." She tried hard not to bite her lip. She couldn't be allowed to forget it's always about his pleasure; any pleasure she derived from the situation was only because she delighted in service, not in herself. He beckoned her forward; she followed willingly. She walked as fast as she could, trying to control the way she jiggled and swayed. He laughed. "If I knew you were going to act like that...doesn't matter. Get over here, I want something. Take long strides...that's better, that's my girl." She always shivered whenever he addressed her in the possessive sense. It highlighted her overall state: she belonged to him.
He pulled her close to him, his hands openly exploring her body through the flimsy fabric of the dress. "Take this damned thing off -- I'm in the mood again. I've been staring at your lips all day..." He trailed off, and she moved to her knees, knowing this part of the game very well. She slipped out of the dress, leaving the shoes on. He wanted his cock serviced with her lips and tongue, a task that normally didn't do much for her pleasure. Yet because the request came from -him-, she quickly found herself moist at the thought.
He broke through her reverie, his cock in hand, waving it in her face. "Let's try this again. Suck it, pet. I want to watch you with my meat in your pretty little mouth." The rough talk made her dizzy. She accepted his cock uneasily. He was angry, and punishment was often severe for any hesitation on her part. She stared at his cock, thick and pulsing, and moved her tongue over the tip, circling it a few times. He moaned, his eyes half closing, "Mmm, that's my girl. Don't tease me too much more now." She was relieved to hear praise rather than the verbal tongue-lashing she would have received.
As she became comfortable, her mouth become bolder. She put her lips fully over his shaft, her head moving up and down. The feel of his cock sliding smoothly in and out of her mouth made her body warm and her pussy moist. She moved faster, guided by her growing lust and by his constant cascade of moans. He reached down to put his hands on either side of her head, beginning to pump fast in and out of her mouth. If it was his intent to fuck her mouth, she thought to herself, then she would stay as tight as possible. Her lips provided the necessary friction as he took the tensions of the day out on her. He moaned over and over, fucking her mouth relentlessly. "You like this, don't you? Me fucking your mouth like this, using you for my pleasure." He pulled out of her mouth, dropping his hands from her face. He stroked himself slowly, taking deep breaths, not wishing to climax just yet. "Tell me how much you want me to cum. Beg me. Oh, and don't forget to touch yourself while you do - I like it when you do that." She complied quickly, not a bit of hesitation in her voice. "Please, I beg you, cum for me? Not just in my mouth Sir, but all over my face - I exist only to receive your cum."
As she said these words, her hands were busy, three slick fingers pumping in and out of her pussy while her thumb pressed back and forth over her clit. He heard her words, and lost control at the sight of her moaning, her pussy juices flowing so freely, her body in the throes of an orgasm, the way her eyes looked glazed over from lust. He came all over her face, rope after rope of sticky cum painting her cheeks, lips, and her tongue, since she had her mouth open.
He slumped back in his chair, throughly spent. Like the good little pet she was becoming, Kat moved to lick him clean. He moaned softly at her soft movements, her tongue licking softly and slowly, and he stroked her hair. He was quite pleased with her performance. Kat sighed contentedly. She was truly home now, even if all her efforts were to him. She pressed a finger inside her pussy. If that last orgasm was any indicator, she was bound to enjoy many, many "games" in the future...

Kyrah Jade Kayles, the BlueMyst (codemuffin@gmail.com) Date Written: December 23, 2004