‘My slave girl,’ She hissed and Her words were like ice. There was no mercy, no tenderness. He was simply a possession with which She wished to play. She watched him shiver in response and She loved the way he reacted so openly, so readily to Her. She could make him shudder to a single touch, whimper to the words She chose to use.
He smelt of soap, of laughter and innocence and his scent invaded Her mind. He stood before Her so wonderfully naked and She knew that there was no part of him he would not allow Her to touch. He offered more than just his body. He offered Her his mind, his heart and his soul. He was stunningly beautiful to Her.
She ached with need, the need to touch him, the need to mark him, the need to use him in all ways he could be used. His cock was hard and swollen, something that Her fingers had already discovered, but his ass was always hot and tight. His lips were parted, ready, waiting. She wanted him all ways at once, right now. Even Her throat was thick with lust.
‘Please?’ he whispered, breaking the silence between them. She smiled a hard, knowing smile.
‘Please what, girl?’ She whispered back.
‘Fuck me. Use me. Come for me. Hurt me. Just fuck me. Please?’
She grabbed his hair tight in Her hand and She drew his head sharply back. He whimpered but he didn’t struggle. His breath escaped him in short, shattered gasps. She lowered Her mouth to his exposed neck and She kissed him so softly, so gently, the way only a lover can.
She took him mercilessly and She used him because for now he existed only for Her to use. She gave him Her pleasure and made him complete.