Beg Me: Part Twelve
http://www.interracialerotica.net/erotica/articles/123/1/Beg-Me-Part-Twelve/Page1.html
By Tracy Ames
Published on October 27, 2009
For both Mark and Sydney, the night had been fraught with unrest. Neither had been able to account for the sudden shift in their room. There was something, someone with them yet neither could place what was happening. Resolved that it was them overacting, they retired to bed. They awoke the next morning feeling lighter and settled without cause, as if they’d shed a layer of guilt or apprehension. Neither spook of this revelation with the other yet it was there.
Sr. and Mark returned their rental truck while Helen and Sydney busied themselves around the house...more or less distracting themselves from Sydney’s departure. Sydney played the piano with Elisa resting close beside her one last time while Helen cleared the lunch dishes. It had all happened so fast, this change in Sydney. She was still Sydney only an unmasked sated version thereof. Moreover, she reveled in her new found abilities; her fear of failure stripped away and she found her capacity towards others open.
She was no longer alone. And it wasn’t simply Mark’s family. Aside from their vested interest, her inner circle had proven themselves trustworthy. They’d gone to bat for her and risked a horrible backlash if their efforts would have failed. Maybe they’d seen a glimpse of this new Sydney all along.
The clock mounted about the fireplace chimed one o’clock.
Helen walked to the front door. “Mark should be getting back here soon,” she turned to Sydney. “Jane should be pulling up any second and you’ll be leaving me.”
Sydney closed the piano top. “You’ll be coming to see me?”
“Sure I will!”
“I’m giving you two weeks and then you have to come,” Sydney said, only half jokingly.
Helen laughed. “Is that enough time for you and Mark to settle in?”
“Oh that’s more than enough,” she peeked up. “That’s why we have assistants. They settle in for us.”
“Be nice to your assistants, even the one you told me about this morning,” Helen thought for a second. “You know the one that turned her back on you. #4…no it was #2.”
Sydney smiled. “It was #3.”
“Whatever, why can’t you just call them by their names like Mark?”
“Because I don’t know their names.” Sydney laughed. “I’m serious, I don’t. I’ll ask her right before I put my foot in her ass.”
“Well that would be the right thing to do,” Helen covered her mouth as no to wake Elisa then turned to see Sr. and Jane pulling in the yard behind one another. She turned to Sydney, “Well this is it. You’re leaving me.”
Sydney walked to the door and peered out. “I guess so.”
“Hey babe,” Coming into the house, Mark greeted Sydney with a kiss. “I’m gonna load the van. Is everything packed?” he called from the hallway.
“Yeah, it’s all waiting at the door,”
Jane followed Sr. inside. Sr. stopped and looked Sydney up and down. “You know, you still one annoying little woman, you know that?”
Sydney almost came unglued. “And you’re still stubborn.”
He hugged Sydney so close she began to openly cry until she trembled. Jane and Helen gave them space. He whispered comforting words to her and she knowledge them with a simple nod of the head buried in his chest. There was a connection between them that no one else was privy to. It as if they had their own language and way of dealing with one another. No one understood it, no one asked questions.
“Alright people let’s go,” Mark came bursting into the room, bags on hand. “I have one more trip to make and we’re all set.”
“I’ll help you,” Jane sprung into action, going to their room to retrieve the last of the bags and followed Mark outside. Once packed, Sr. Helen and Elisa walk Sydney out to the van.
“Do you want her to ride with you guys?” Helen asked, holding up Elisa over her shoulder, who was obviously none to happy to be woken up for this farewell.
“No, let her sleep,” Sydney brushed her wispy blonde hair into place. “I’ll see her in a couple of weeks.”
“Whoa,” Mark blurted out with surprise. “Two weeks?”
Sydney turned to him matter-of-factly. “Yeah, two weeks. Everyone is flying out to see us.”
He smiled at his father. “I just can’t just rid of you, can I?”
“Not anymore,” Sr. gave Mark a hug that was filled with more than just love; it was filled with respect. “Take care of her.”
“I will,”
“Goodbye, Mark.” Helen hugged him as though this was the last time she’d see him. “I love you,” she whispered repeatedly.
He allowed reciprocated and realized that the last time she told one of her sons goodbye, she’d never seen him again. “Goodbye, I love you and we’ll see you soon.”
“Be good,”
“I will. Take care of Markie for me and be sure he’s on the plane with you guys.”
“Goodbye Sydney,” Helen hugged her tightly. “Remember to be nice,”
“I’ll try,” Sydney rolled her eyes playfully. “I’ll call you when we get home.”
Jane clapped her hands. “Alright let’s roll.”
The ride to the airport was quiet for the most part. Jane and Sydney gave Mark his space to reflect with their endless chatter. He, on the other hand, stared out of the window deep in thought, neither willing nor able to share his thoughts. Neither women felt it appropriate to engage him in conversation.
Once at the airport, Jane pulled to the curb and they unloaded the bags. “I’ll say my goodbyes here.” Jane said brightly.
“What, you’re not going to wait with us?” Sydney’s eyes widened.
“Nah, it’s no need to make this a long goodbye. I think we’ve had enough of those already.” She smiled.
“Well, we’ll see you later,” Sydney hugged her, followed by Mark.
“Thanks for everything,” he grinned.
“You bet, Jane’s dimples deepened. “Now I’ll gotta go before I get towed. Love you guys!”
“Love you to,” They both called to her as she pulled away.
Mark sighed and turned to Sydney. “Well dear, it’s just you and me again.”
“Yeah it is,” she replied smiling up at Mark and helped push the luggage cart into the airport.
******
Stepping out of the terminal hand and hand, Mark and Sydney and were immediately met Charles and #1 standing with two baggage carts.
What immediately struck #1 as bizarre was the faint smile on Sydney’s face. From outward appearances Sydney was herself: hair pulled back in a tight chignon, makeup done to perfection, a black contoured knee-length dress with matching wrap, and heels. She was “on” yet she was…smiling. #1 shot Charles a sideway look of confusion.
“Well well well, our Mistress has returned,” Charles murmured under his breath. “She looks well rested.”
“Don’t get too comfortable. You know how her moods can shift,” #1 said through her teeth and turned her attention to Sydney. “Welcomed home, Mistress. How was your flight?”
As custom, Sydney and Mark greeted Charles first. Mark with a handshake, Sydney with a polite nod.
Sydney turned to #1 with a puzzled expression that quickly transformed into a small grin. “Thank you. It’s good to be home,” There was something different about #1. She was taller. No, shorter. Maybe she’d changed her hair. Had she had hair before? Sydney thought herself. Her #1 was no longer the blurred object that whirled around her attending to her every need. She had taken on shape. Sydney had never noticed how beautiful she was. She stood with all the confident as someone in Sydney’s service yet there was a twinge of vulnerability, maybe even sadness.
Mark took the cart from #1 and began walking to claim there baggage with Charles.
Once he and Charles were out of earshot, Sydney took a seat on a bench. #1 stood beside her motionless. “Sit.”
#1 almost jumped out of her skin. “Excuse me?” They were never allowed to sit in her presence.
Sydney turned to her. “Come and sit with me,”
#1 eased beside her, smoothing out her skirt, crossed her legs at the ankles and folded her hand in her lap.
Sydney tilted her head and studied her for a moment. She hadn’t noticed how much #1 resembled a chocolate covered Geisha doll minus the conspicuous tsunagi-dango hair-combs. “You have been through a lot these last few days. How are you?” Sydney asked.
“Mistress, it is nothing I would do over again,” #1 kept her eyes glued to her lap.
Sydney slowly turned #1’s face to hers and began to worry. The look staring back at her was the same sadness and resolve she’d seen in Cece. As though she could break down and cry just as easily as she could burst into laughter. Sydney stood to meet Mark and Charles. They walked to the car. #1 took the front with Charles. Sydney and Mark took the back.
They conversed about the events of the past week and further plans before briefing into silence. Charles covertly took Natalie’s hand. Sydney snuggled Mark’s arms while he checked his BlackBerry. He showed Sydney and email from one of his Doms saying their plans were on track…”no surprises”.
Sydney pecked Mark’s lips and sighed.
Mark knew what this meant. He wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight. She wasn’t in the mood for a quickie. No, this is was going to be a sleep-inducing fuck. “Charles, are you going to the ball?”
“Yes, I’d planned on attending but…we’ll see,” Charles answered Mark through the rearview mirror. “You guys going?”
Mark drew a long breath. “Yeah, I think all of us should attend—if for nothing else than appearances. If we don’t it may seem as though we’ve gone into hiding.”
“You’re right. I’ll drag Lee along for good luck,” Charles said, exchanging grins with Mark. “Mistress, have you chosen your attendants?”
#1’s heart leaped in her chest. She couldn’t believe he’d ask such a question in her presence.
“Yes, I’m taking #2 and 4 this year,” Sydney answered and studied #1s reaction before closing her eyes to sleep.
There was none. Only Charles saw the dejected look on her face, the life sucked out of her. He would have given anything to offer her some measure of comfort.
Mark caught a glimpse of Charles as his jaw twitched. He knew there was something between them but he wasn’t exactly sure what it was until he saw #1 brush away tear with the back of her hand. “Are you alright?” Mark asked sincerely.
“Yes, Sir,” she answered. “I’m tired. I’ll be fine. I just some sleep. Thank you for asking,” She straightened herself.
“Are you sure? You’re both perfectly welcomed to stay the night. I have plenty of room,”
“Thank you, Sir. But now that Mistress is back safely, I think I want to be alone. I don’t want to convenience you,”
Charles came to her rescue. “I think what she means is it’s been a long week and she needs rest. I’ll be sure she gets home safely.”
“My door is always open. Come anytime you’d like,”
“Keep your paws off of my sub,” Sydney teased, her eyes still closed. “You don’t see me courting Greta.”
Everyone giggled. Even Natalie chuckled through her disappointment. She had never seen this lighthearted side of Sydney.
“Stay away from my girls,”
For Your Viewing Pleasure...."Beg Me" Part Twelve
Top Dom/mes, Sydney Cummings, an African-American Goddess and Mark Bryant, a man with a body that was chiseled from a slab of solid hotness, have a score to settle. Who will be the first to beg? With both of their reputations on the line, this is going to be a fight to the very end.
This story is sensual, sexy, and HOT...you've been warned
Top Dom/mes, Sydney Cummings, an African-American Goddess and Mark Bryant, a man with a body that was chiseled from a slab of solid hotness, have a score to settle. Who will be the first to beg? With both of their reputations on the line, this is going to be a fight to the very end.
This story is sensual, sexy, and HOT...you've been warned
Beg Me: Part Twelve
For both Mark and Sydney, the night had been fraught with unrest. Neither had been able to account for the sudden shift in their room. There was something, someone with them yet neither could place what was happening. Resolved that it was them overacting, they retired to bed. They awoke the next morning feeling lighter and settled without cause, as if they’d shed a layer of guilt or apprehension. Neither spook of this revelation with the other yet it was there.
Sr. and Mark returned their rental truck while Helen and Sydney busied themselves around the house...more or less distracting themselves from Sydney’s departure. Sydney played the piano with Elisa resting close beside her one last time while Helen cleared the lunch dishes. It had all happened so fast, this change in Sydney. She was still Sydney only an unmasked sated version thereof. Moreover, she reveled in her new found abilities; her fear of failure stripped away and she found her capacity towards others open.
She was no longer alone. And it wasn’t simply Mark’s family. Aside from their vested interest, her inner circle had proven themselves trustworthy. They’d gone to bat for her and risked a horrible backlash if their efforts would have failed. Maybe they’d seen a glimpse of this new Sydney all along.
The clock mounted about the fireplace chimed one o’clock.
Helen walked to the front door. “Mark should be getting back here soon,” she turned to Sydney. “Jane should be pulling up any second and you’ll be leaving me.”
Sydney closed the piano top. “You’ll be coming to see me?”
“Sure I will!”
“I’m giving you two weeks and then you have to come,” Sydney said, only half jokingly.
Helen laughed. “Is that enough time for you and Mark to settle in?”
“Oh that’s more than enough,” she peeked up. “That’s why we have assistants. They settle in for us.”
“Be nice to your assistants, even the one you told me about this morning,” Helen thought for a second. “You know the one that turned her back on you. #4…no it was #2.”
Sydney smiled. “It was #3.”
“Whatever, why can’t you just call them by their names like Mark?”
“Because I don’t know their names.” Sydney laughed. “I’m serious, I don’t. I’ll ask her right before I put my foot in her ass.”
“Well that would be the right thing to do,” Helen covered her mouth as no to wake Elisa then turned to see Sr. and Jane pulling in the yard behind one another. She turned to Sydney, “Well this is it. You’re leaving me.”
Sydney walked to the door and peered out. “I guess so.”
“Hey babe,” Coming into the house, Mark greeted Sydney with a kiss. “I’m gonna load the van. Is everything packed?” he called from the hallway.
“Yeah, it’s all waiting at the door,”
Jane followed Sr. inside. Sr. stopped and looked Sydney up and down. “You know, you still one annoying little woman, you know that?”
Sydney almost came unglued. “And you’re still stubborn.”
He hugged Sydney so close she began to openly cry until she trembled. Jane and Helen gave them space. He whispered comforting words to her and she knowledge them with a simple nod of the head buried in his chest. There was a connection between them that no one else was privy to. It as if they had their own language and way of dealing with one another. No one understood it, no one asked questions.
“Alright people let’s go,” Mark came bursting into the room, bags on hand. “I have one more trip to make and we’re all set.”
“I’ll help you,” Jane sprung into action, going to their room to retrieve the last of the bags and followed Mark outside. Once packed, Sr. Helen and Elisa walk Sydney out to the van.
“Do you want her to ride with you guys?” Helen asked, holding up Elisa over her shoulder, who was obviously none to happy to be woken up for this farewell.
“No, let her sleep,” Sydney brushed her wispy blonde hair into place. “I’ll see her in a couple of weeks.”
“Whoa,” Mark blurted out with surprise. “Two weeks?”
Sydney turned to him matter-of-factly. “Yeah, two weeks. Everyone is flying out to see us.”
He smiled at his father. “I just can’t just rid of you, can I?”
“Not anymore,” Sr. gave Mark a hug that was filled with more than just love; it was filled with respect. “Take care of her.”
“I will,”
“Goodbye, Mark.” Helen hugged him as though this was the last time she’d see him. “I love you,” she whispered repeatedly.
He allowed reciprocated and realized that the last time she told one of her sons goodbye, she’d never seen him again. “Goodbye, I love you and we’ll see you soon.”
“Be good,”
“I will. Take care of Markie for me and be sure he’s on the plane with you guys.”
“Goodbye Sydney,” Helen hugged her tightly. “Remember to be nice,”
“I’ll try,” Sydney rolled her eyes playfully. “I’ll call you when we get home.”
Jane clapped her hands. “Alright let’s roll.”
The ride to the airport was quiet for the most part. Jane and Sydney gave Mark his space to reflect with their endless chatter. He, on the other hand, stared out of the window deep in thought, neither willing nor able to share his thoughts. Neither women felt it appropriate to engage him in conversation.
Once at the airport, Jane pulled to the curb and they unloaded the bags. “I’ll say my goodbyes here.” Jane said brightly.
“What, you’re not going to wait with us?” Sydney’s eyes widened.
“Nah, it’s no need to make this a long goodbye. I think we’ve had enough of those already.” She smiled.
“Well, we’ll see you later,” Sydney hugged her, followed by Mark.
“Thanks for everything,” he grinned.
“You bet, Jane’s dimples deepened. “Now I’ll gotta go before I get towed. Love you guys!”
“Love you to,” They both called to her as she pulled away.
Mark sighed and turned to Sydney. “Well dear, it’s just you and me again.”
“Yeah it is,” she replied smiling up at Mark and helped push the luggage cart into the airport.
******
Stepping out of the terminal hand and hand, Mark and Sydney and were immediately met Charles and #1 standing with two baggage carts.
What immediately struck #1 as bizarre was the faint smile on Sydney’s face. From outward appearances Sydney was herself: hair pulled back in a tight chignon, makeup done to perfection, a black contoured knee-length dress with matching wrap, and heels. She was “on” yet she was…smiling. #1 shot Charles a sideway look of confusion.
“Well well well, our Mistress has returned,” Charles murmured under his breath. “She looks well rested.”
“Don’t get too comfortable. You know how her moods can shift,” #1 said through her teeth and turned her attention to Sydney. “Welcomed home, Mistress. How was your flight?”
As custom, Sydney and Mark greeted Charles first. Mark with a handshake, Sydney with a polite nod.
Sydney turned to #1 with a puzzled expression that quickly transformed into a small grin. “Thank you. It’s good to be home,” There was something different about #1. She was taller. No, shorter. Maybe she’d changed her hair. Had she had hair before? Sydney thought herself. Her #1 was no longer the blurred object that whirled around her attending to her every need. She had taken on shape. Sydney had never noticed how beautiful she was. She stood with all the confident as someone in Sydney’s service yet there was a twinge of vulnerability, maybe even sadness.
Mark took the cart from #1 and began walking to claim there baggage with Charles.
Once he and Charles were out of earshot, Sydney took a seat on a bench. #1 stood beside her motionless. “Sit.”
#1 almost jumped out of her skin. “Excuse me?” They were never allowed to sit in her presence.
Sydney turned to her. “Come and sit with me,”
#1 eased beside her, smoothing out her skirt, crossed her legs at the ankles and folded her hand in her lap.
Sydney tilted her head and studied her for a moment. She hadn’t noticed how much #1 resembled a chocolate covered Geisha doll minus the conspicuous tsunagi-dango hair-combs. “You have been through a lot these last few days. How are you?” Sydney asked.
“Mistress, it is nothing I would do over again,” #1 kept her eyes glued to her lap.
Sydney slowly turned #1’s face to hers and began to worry. The look staring back at her was the same sadness and resolve she’d seen in Cece. As though she could break down and cry just as easily as she could burst into laughter. Sydney stood to meet Mark and Charles. They walked to the car. #1 took the front with Charles. Sydney and Mark took the back.
They conversed about the events of the past week and further plans before briefing into silence. Charles covertly took Natalie’s hand. Sydney snuggled Mark’s arms while he checked his BlackBerry. He showed Sydney and email from one of his Doms saying their plans were on track…”no surprises”.
Sydney pecked Mark’s lips and sighed.
Mark knew what this meant. He wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight. She wasn’t in the mood for a quickie. No, this is was going to be a sleep-inducing fuck. “Charles, are you going to the ball?”
“Yes, I’d planned on attending but…we’ll see,” Charles answered Mark through the rearview mirror. “You guys going?”
Mark drew a long breath. “Yeah, I think all of us should attend—if for nothing else than appearances. If we don’t it may seem as though we’ve gone into hiding.”
“You’re right. I’ll drag Lee along for good luck,” Charles said, exchanging grins with Mark. “Mistress, have you chosen your attendants?”
#1’s heart leaped in her chest. She couldn’t believe he’d ask such a question in her presence.
“Yes, I’m taking #2 and 4 this year,” Sydney answered and studied #1s reaction before closing her eyes to sleep.
There was none. Only Charles saw the dejected look on her face, the life sucked out of her. He would have given anything to offer her some measure of comfort.
Mark caught a glimpse of Charles as his jaw twitched. He knew there was something between them but he wasn’t exactly sure what it was until he saw #1 brush away tear with the back of her hand. “Are you alright?” Mark asked sincerely.
“Yes, Sir,” she answered. “I’m tired. I’ll be fine. I just some sleep. Thank you for asking,” She straightened herself.
“Are you sure? You’re both perfectly welcomed to stay the night. I have plenty of room,”
“Thank you, Sir. But now that Mistress is back safely, I think I want to be alone. I don’t want to convenience you,”
Charles came to her rescue. “I think what she means is it’s been a long week and she needs rest. I’ll be sure she gets home safely.”
“My door is always open. Come anytime you’d like,”
“Keep your paws off of my sub,” Sydney teased, her eyes still closed. “You don’t see me courting Greta.”
Everyone giggled. Even Natalie chuckled through her disappointment. She had never seen this lighthearted side of Sydney.
“Stay away from my girls,”
Beg Me: Part Twelve
Mark and Charles brought the bags into the house while Sydney and #1 went over the plans for the following day. Sydney painfully explained the situation with #3 and gave her clear direction on removing her from her service.
#3s betrayal of Sydney only served to cement #1s resolve not to disclose her relationship with Charles even further. Her Mistress had suffered and emotional blew and maybe this was the reason behind her strange behavior. Maybe this is was the reason she was being so…open. She recommitted herself to serving her Mistress without regard for herself or Charles. She’d never abandon Sydney.
#1s uneasiness in her own skin concerned Sydney. She seemed frail and lonely. “What is your name?” Sydney demanded.
#1 froze in place and gathered her wits. “Natalie, my name is Natalie, Mistress.” She began helping Sydney undress. She unzipped the long zipper down Sydney’s back.
“How long have you worked for me, Natalie?”
“Ten years, Ma’am,” She slid Sydney’s arms out of the dress and folded it neatly on the bed.
Sydney snorted. “Ten years and I didn’t know your name,” She sat on the edge of the bed while Natalie removed her shoes.
“You shouldn’t be concerned with me. I’m here to serve you. I’m nothing,”
Sydney had no rebuttal. It was true. She was nothing, or at least that’s how she had been treated. Natalie was nothing more than a blip on Sydney’s Doppler radar. She watched her little servant carefully perform a ritual she’d done countless time but this time she seemed to take extra care, as if Sydney would break if handled too firmly. “Natalie, are you angry with me because I didn’t choose you to attend the ball this year?” Sydney asked.
“No Ma’am,” Natalie stood and went to hang Sydney’s dress in the closet. “It was your decision. Who am I to question you?”
Spoken like a true submissive, Sydney thought to herself. She wrapped herself in her robe before Natalie returned.
Natalie’s stomach flipped. Sydney never dressed or undressed herself when there was someone to do it for her.
With a slight smile, Sydney blew off this sidestep in protocol as if it were nothing, when in fact she knew Natalie may have taken it as an insult or gesture of her disfavor.
“That will be all. You may leave,” Sydney ordered.
Natalie went for the door.
“Natalie,” Sydney called.
She turned “Mistress,”
“Thank you. You have done very well.”
“You’re welcomed,” she replied and left, more confused than ever.
I hope she doesn’t think it’s going to be that easy, Sydney smirked to herself.
******
“Are they gone?” Sydney asked Mark as he stretched out on the bed beside her.
“Yes,” he answered.
Sydney traced her fingers along his chest. “You wanna fool around?”
“Not tonight. It’s been a long day. I just wanna get some sleep,” Mark sighed and turned his head away from her, awaiting her imminent attack.
“Mark, I need a release,” she crooned in his ear seductively.
“You beat the shit out of my sister and damn near broke my nose. I think you’ve had enough,” He stood walking to his dressing room, removing his clothes along the way.
“Is there anything I can do to entice you?” she called to him.
“No, not tonight,” Mark replied now completely disrobed. He returned to the bed moments later.
Sydney removed the covers to reveal a black sheer bra and panties number complete with garters, thigh highs and Mark’s favorite black T-strap pumps.
Mark scratched the back of his neck and grinned.
“Are you absolutely sure there’s nothing I could do to entice you?”
His face clouded. “Get on your knees,”
Sydney didn’t move. “I want control tonight,”
He moved closer. “Get on your knees,” His voice was low but his face remained emotionless.
His eyes pierced through Sydney's but she didn’t falter. She stood before him, dwarfed and defiant. “Get on your knees,” she ordered.
Without missing a beat, Mark fell to his knees. He position said submission but the punishing look in his eyes was anything but. He threw her left leg over his shoulder and gripped the back of her leg. “What did I tell you about keeping me waiting?” He ripped her panties free of her body in one swift motion.
Sydney gasped and held him around the neck for balance.
Mark reveled in the uncertainty in her eyes. He bit her inner thigh. “I warned you against testing me,”
“But you’re the one on your knees,” Sydney summoned what little courage she had in reserve.
He raised an eyebrow from between her cleft. “It’s like you said: A slave is merely a Master in disguise.” His tongue, long languid, finessed its way into her pussy and placed tender kisses on sodden lips and pausing periodically to pay supplicant-like homage to her clit. He looked up, watching her being helplessly held hostage by his oral marksmanship.
Sydney’s chest trembled and her eyes rolled backwards. She fought to control her grip on the back of his head. But seeing him kneeling between thighs, licking, lapping, and sucking there… “oh right there” was proving to be her undoing. She whimpered once, and then grunted when Mark’s fingers slid between her lips with a sucking sound and began finger-fucking her, his rhythm easy and steady. Her pussy throbbed, utterly receptive to his touch and mouth.
Mark found her clit and stroked it in time to each thrust until she moaned and began riding his face. He smacked her ass.
She melted inside. “More,” she panted and he smacked and smacked…licked and pumped until her orgasm hang above her, just out of reach. “Harder,” she pleaded.
Abruptly, Mark pushed her back on the bed and stood over her.
Sydney yelped and sat upright about to protest his sudden cruelty.
“Get on your knees. Deep-throat me,”
Sydney gave a half cocked smile. “Oh hell yeah,” Slowly she fell to her knees before him, looking up with her mouth open and allowed him the pleasure of feeding his cock between her lips. This would be that last bit of control he’d be given. Sydney loved the power she received from deep-throating Mark. The ability to make his eyes roll back in his head, the sounds he made, and his taste. The whole process of giving and denying; taking him to the brink and knowing when to stop so she could tease and prolong his orgasm.
He watched her suck and slurp in preparation, wrapping her juicy brown lips around his thick alabaster cock. Clutching and tugging it in rhythm with her lip service. Willfully opening the cravenness abyss of her throat for his descent. Feeling the lubrication building in her mouth, Mark gently held her head, helping his cock slide in and out of her mouth with the most pleasurable friction he’d ever felt.
“Damn woman,” he moaned.
Seductively, Sydney pulled her tongue to the back of her throat slowly, incrementally, opening it to him. She slid Mark’s solid cock down the back of her throat and swallowed around it, pulling him into its depths, adjusting her muscles to massage him until his sang her cock-sucking laurels. He was on the ropes, right where Sydney wanted him.
Or so she thought.
Mark pulled out of her throat causing her to cough a few times and gasp for air. Unceremoniously, Mark lifted her up by her shoulders, deposited her on all fours on the bed, mounted her from behind and began tying her wrist together using the thin remains of her panties.
“You’re gonna take me like this?” Sydney whined.
Mark pulled her hair, forcing her to attention. “Did you really think I wasn’t going to fuck the hell out of you our first night home? You underestimate my depravity,”
Sydney shook her head in protest. “Oh, no I didn’t underestimate. I knew what I was getting myself into,” She said as he made the last adjustment to her wrist. “Make it hurt, daddy.” She begged.
“This isn’t for your pleasure; its your punishment for keeping me waiting,” Mark looked into her eyes. “I love you, Sydney but don’t ever test me,” He surged inside her and began fucking, his strokes long and hard. Steady and measured. Taking her pussy as if he owned it, and for those moments he did.
“Oh my God!!” Sydney gritted her teeth from the pain of Mark's girth having its way with her weeping hole until it solicited involuntary sucking noises. “Fuck. Mark!” she cried.
Mark held her in place, one hand gripping her wrist, the other on her right shoulder while pile-driving her into the strange ubiquity of subspace. He slapped her bouncing ass with the voyeuristic thrill of seeing it jiggle while as his cock stretched her in ways unknown.
Her leg threatened to give way. She called to him for more, then less and then she lost all cognitive reasoning all together. Her hands tightened into fists while words poured from her mouth, incoherent begging words of tender absolution, words that ultimately meant nothing as he continued with his earth-shattering thrust. She was his handmaiden, a mere conduit to his imminent release ….and she loved every second of it.
“Are you ever going to make me wait again?” His voice was close to her ear, deep and resonant, with a gentle undertone. He drove deeper and deeper with steady strokes; fucking his woman senseless.
Sydney pinched her lips together. “No,” She went deeper into subspace.
“Good girl,” he kissed her cheek with gentleness that she knew was to be short lived. Mark lovely wrapped his forearm around her throat with just enough pressure to elicit a low moan, then pulled her against his chest and crooned into her ear, “Who’s pussy is it?”
“Oh my fucking God!” Sydney released a long unearthly scream…something between a cry, a whimper, and a plea. Her orgasm momentarily suspended her above the place where her heart and pussy intertwined in soporific bliss before she came crashing back into the remnants of her former self.
There was no need for Sydney to give him the obvious answer to his question. He knew whose pussy it was, and it wasn’t hers anymore. Mark had planted his flag as the conquering dictator of the wild and untamed land that was Sydney’s pussy.
#3s betrayal of Sydney only served to cement #1s resolve not to disclose her relationship with Charles even further. Her Mistress had suffered and emotional blew and maybe this was the reason behind her strange behavior. Maybe this is was the reason she was being so…open. She recommitted herself to serving her Mistress without regard for herself or Charles. She’d never abandon Sydney.
#1s uneasiness in her own skin concerned Sydney. She seemed frail and lonely. “What is your name?” Sydney demanded.
#1 froze in place and gathered her wits. “Natalie, my name is Natalie, Mistress.” She began helping Sydney undress. She unzipped the long zipper down Sydney’s back.
“How long have you worked for me, Natalie?”
“Ten years, Ma’am,” She slid Sydney’s arms out of the dress and folded it neatly on the bed.
Sydney snorted. “Ten years and I didn’t know your name,” She sat on the edge of the bed while Natalie removed her shoes.
“You shouldn’t be concerned with me. I’m here to serve you. I’m nothing,”
Sydney had no rebuttal. It was true. She was nothing, or at least that’s how she had been treated. Natalie was nothing more than a blip on Sydney’s Doppler radar. She watched her little servant carefully perform a ritual she’d done countless time but this time she seemed to take extra care, as if Sydney would break if handled too firmly. “Natalie, are you angry with me because I didn’t choose you to attend the ball this year?” Sydney asked.
“No Ma’am,” Natalie stood and went to hang Sydney’s dress in the closet. “It was your decision. Who am I to question you?”
Spoken like a true submissive, Sydney thought to herself. She wrapped herself in her robe before Natalie returned.
Natalie’s stomach flipped. Sydney never dressed or undressed herself when there was someone to do it for her.
With a slight smile, Sydney blew off this sidestep in protocol as if it were nothing, when in fact she knew Natalie may have taken it as an insult or gesture of her disfavor.
“That will be all. You may leave,” Sydney ordered.
Natalie went for the door.
“Natalie,” Sydney called.
She turned “Mistress,”
“Thank you. You have done very well.”
“You’re welcomed,” she replied and left, more confused than ever.
I hope she doesn’t think it’s going to be that easy, Sydney smirked to herself.
******
“Are they gone?” Sydney asked Mark as he stretched out on the bed beside her.
“Yes,” he answered.
Sydney traced her fingers along his chest. “You wanna fool around?”
“Not tonight. It’s been a long day. I just wanna get some sleep,” Mark sighed and turned his head away from her, awaiting her imminent attack.
“Mark, I need a release,” she crooned in his ear seductively.
“You beat the shit out of my sister and damn near broke my nose. I think you’ve had enough,” He stood walking to his dressing room, removing his clothes along the way.
“Is there anything I can do to entice you?” she called to him.
“No, not tonight,” Mark replied now completely disrobed. He returned to the bed moments later.
Sydney removed the covers to reveal a black sheer bra and panties number complete with garters, thigh highs and Mark’s favorite black T-strap pumps.
Mark scratched the back of his neck and grinned.
“Are you absolutely sure there’s nothing I could do to entice you?”
His face clouded. “Get on your knees,”
Sydney didn’t move. “I want control tonight,”
He moved closer. “Get on your knees,” His voice was low but his face remained emotionless.
His eyes pierced through Sydney's but she didn’t falter. She stood before him, dwarfed and defiant. “Get on your knees,” she ordered.
Without missing a beat, Mark fell to his knees. He position said submission but the punishing look in his eyes was anything but. He threw her left leg over his shoulder and gripped the back of her leg. “What did I tell you about keeping me waiting?” He ripped her panties free of her body in one swift motion.
Sydney gasped and held him around the neck for balance.
Mark reveled in the uncertainty in her eyes. He bit her inner thigh. “I warned you against testing me,”
“But you’re the one on your knees,” Sydney summoned what little courage she had in reserve.
He raised an eyebrow from between her cleft. “It’s like you said: A slave is merely a Master in disguise.” His tongue, long languid, finessed its way into her pussy and placed tender kisses on sodden lips and pausing periodically to pay supplicant-like homage to her clit. He looked up, watching her being helplessly held hostage by his oral marksmanship.
Sydney’s chest trembled and her eyes rolled backwards. She fought to control her grip on the back of his head. But seeing him kneeling between thighs, licking, lapping, and sucking there… “oh right there” was proving to be her undoing. She whimpered once, and then grunted when Mark’s fingers slid between her lips with a sucking sound and began finger-fucking her, his rhythm easy and steady. Her pussy throbbed, utterly receptive to his touch and mouth.
Mark found her clit and stroked it in time to each thrust until she moaned and began riding his face. He smacked her ass.
She melted inside. “More,” she panted and he smacked and smacked…licked and pumped until her orgasm hang above her, just out of reach. “Harder,” she pleaded.
Abruptly, Mark pushed her back on the bed and stood over her.
Sydney yelped and sat upright about to protest his sudden cruelty.
“Get on your knees. Deep-throat me,”
Sydney gave a half cocked smile. “Oh hell yeah,” Slowly she fell to her knees before him, looking up with her mouth open and allowed him the pleasure of feeding his cock between her lips. This would be that last bit of control he’d be given. Sydney loved the power she received from deep-throating Mark. The ability to make his eyes roll back in his head, the sounds he made, and his taste. The whole process of giving and denying; taking him to the brink and knowing when to stop so she could tease and prolong his orgasm.
He watched her suck and slurp in preparation, wrapping her juicy brown lips around his thick alabaster cock. Clutching and tugging it in rhythm with her lip service. Willfully opening the cravenness abyss of her throat for his descent. Feeling the lubrication building in her mouth, Mark gently held her head, helping his cock slide in and out of her mouth with the most pleasurable friction he’d ever felt.
“Damn woman,” he moaned.
Seductively, Sydney pulled her tongue to the back of her throat slowly, incrementally, opening it to him. She slid Mark’s solid cock down the back of her throat and swallowed around it, pulling him into its depths, adjusting her muscles to massage him until his sang her cock-sucking laurels. He was on the ropes, right where Sydney wanted him.
Or so she thought.
Mark pulled out of her throat causing her to cough a few times and gasp for air. Unceremoniously, Mark lifted her up by her shoulders, deposited her on all fours on the bed, mounted her from behind and began tying her wrist together using the thin remains of her panties.
“You’re gonna take me like this?” Sydney whined.
Mark pulled her hair, forcing her to attention. “Did you really think I wasn’t going to fuck the hell out of you our first night home? You underestimate my depravity,”
Sydney shook her head in protest. “Oh, no I didn’t underestimate. I knew what I was getting myself into,” She said as he made the last adjustment to her wrist. “Make it hurt, daddy.” She begged.
“This isn’t for your pleasure; its your punishment for keeping me waiting,” Mark looked into her eyes. “I love you, Sydney but don’t ever test me,” He surged inside her and began fucking, his strokes long and hard. Steady and measured. Taking her pussy as if he owned it, and for those moments he did.
“Oh my God!!” Sydney gritted her teeth from the pain of Mark's girth having its way with her weeping hole until it solicited involuntary sucking noises. “Fuck. Mark!” she cried.
Mark held her in place, one hand gripping her wrist, the other on her right shoulder while pile-driving her into the strange ubiquity of subspace. He slapped her bouncing ass with the voyeuristic thrill of seeing it jiggle while as his cock stretched her in ways unknown.
Her leg threatened to give way. She called to him for more, then less and then she lost all cognitive reasoning all together. Her hands tightened into fists while words poured from her mouth, incoherent begging words of tender absolution, words that ultimately meant nothing as he continued with his earth-shattering thrust. She was his handmaiden, a mere conduit to his imminent release ….and she loved every second of it.
“Are you ever going to make me wait again?” His voice was close to her ear, deep and resonant, with a gentle undertone. He drove deeper and deeper with steady strokes; fucking his woman senseless.
Sydney pinched her lips together. “No,” She went deeper into subspace.
“Good girl,” he kissed her cheek with gentleness that she knew was to be short lived. Mark lovely wrapped his forearm around her throat with just enough pressure to elicit a low moan, then pulled her against his chest and crooned into her ear, “Who’s pussy is it?”
“Oh my fucking God!” Sydney released a long unearthly scream…something between a cry, a whimper, and a plea. Her orgasm momentarily suspended her above the place where her heart and pussy intertwined in soporific bliss before she came crashing back into the remnants of her former self.
There was no need for Sydney to give him the obvious answer to his question. He knew whose pussy it was, and it wasn’t hers anymore. Mark had planted his flag as the conquering dictator of the wild and untamed land that was Sydney’s pussy.