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"No next time!” I cry into the gag.

He laughs. Did he understand?

"I'm halfway in, not bad for a virgin,” he comments. “I'm going to fuck you this way a bit then maybe I'll come. Or we might break for a shower."

The way he said it, just with total possessiveness, like my body was nothing more than a receptacle, a semen station…

I orgasm right then, his finger on my clit. He just laughs, low and guttural. He so has me…

"You just wait until I start denying you orgasms, you'll go out of your mind."

I make my protest, a distinctly muted “mmphhh,” sound.

Daddy never denies me, unless it's to give me something else, something even better.

Brian takes my hips, clamping tightly. I have to take it as he moves inside me, in and out, using my asshole like a pussy. I continue to spasm, sweat drenched in the after shocks.

He grunts and I feel his cock swell. Is this it? Am I going to receive his semen?

I try to be ready … I feel reverence welling up, too late to push it back down, too late to save my pride.

I thrust my ass toward my despoiler, the man who's told me I must be a good ass fuck for him. It's going to do something to me, to us, to have him climax this way, I really won't be able to look at him as equal again, and that makes me mad, but I have traveled too far and the way back makes me even angrier.

I groan … begging for it. He pumps and pumps with terrific self-control, I think I'm doing okay; maybe I'm big enough now? Definitely ready, who needs a butt plug?

And then, just like that, he plays with my head, taking himself out of me at the last possible moment.

"By the way,” he tells me as he sprays his come all over my ass. “I'm not done whipping you."

The psychological effect is staggering. I try and rear up and away. He holds me by the hair, yanking brutally at my scalp. Everything disappears but the frantic need to appease. Obedience equals end to pain.

I take the semen bath like a good slut.

"Lay down,” he slaps my hip. “On your stomach. I'll tell you when I'm ready for you in the bathroom."

My throat is scratchy. My head is turned sideways, cheek against the rumpled comforter. I'm terrified he's going to leave me. This hurts so much more than the belt or the cock up my ass. “Are we going to take a shower?” I asked.

"I am,” he says cryptically.

"What about me?” I say softly, the words coming from my underbelly, my flesh still glowing in a place of luscious degradation.

"I have a different kind of shower in mind for you."

I close my eyes, whipped and come soaked, my hair tangled and matted.

I'd thought this was the bottom, but it's not even close.

I think of what Brian intends. I think about him bathing me, the ultimate insult and the ultimate gift, both at the same time.

"Would you like that sweetheart?” he croons.

"Yes,” I whisper.

Wouldn't you?

CHAPTER IV

It's funny looking back how the relationship I had with Thomas developed along dominant and submissive lines before I even knew what the words meant.

From the moment he captivated me, made me laugh and dragged me out of that basement-and out of that funk-I became his. To mold, to do with as he wished.

I wonder if he knows to this day just how vulnerable I was-am?

He tells me I've been the strong one all along, that no one could have survived the things I did without having an indestructible core. The trouble is my coping mechanisms were limited and pretty damned dysfunctional.

I knew how to drink, lose jobs and spread my legs. Great country music stuff, but not really helpful for a stable life.

The day after I first called Thomas Daddy I was so incredibly horny and needy. I literally begged him to keep me by his side every minute. We ended up taking a long drive to look at some land near the coast for a possible deal.

He stopped to buy me some clothes. Very expensive. A skirt, on the short side and a pink blouse. We shopped at a store for women much younger than me. I was so thankful for having kept up my jogging, because I could actually fit into the teeny sizes.

I felt totally wicked in the new outfit, complete with strappy sandals.

I wanted to play with him when we got back to the car, but he had a different game in mind.

"Is your seat belt buckled, baby girl?"

"Yes, Daddy,” I told him.

"Are you ready to go bye bye?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"That's my girl."

I took a deep breath, allowing the reassurance to wash over me. This man really could protect me, care for me. I could let myself go, as far as I wanted. “Where we going, Daddy?"

"Daddy needs to see some land."

"What's land?"

"A big piece of ground, a lot of dirt where Daddy might build some houses."

"Why?” I was aiming for about five.

"So people can live in them."

I took one of his hands and started idly bending his fingers, this way and that. “What people?"

"People who need somewhere to live."

"Why?"

"Everyone needs somewhere,” he said.

"Why?"

He stroked my hair. “Just because, baby girl."

"Because why?"

"Baby girl, you're whining."

"No, I'm not."

He spoke sternly. “That's enough, Baby girl."

My pussy flooded. I was twitching like crazy under my panties. “It's not enough,” I said, driven by some uncontrollable desire to be bad.

"Baby girl,” his voice was very calm. “Do you need a spanking?"

"No.” I folded my arms over my thumping heart and burning nipples. “And besides, you can't reach my bottom while you're driving."

"That's true. But I can spank your thigh, can't I?"

I covered both of them. “No, Daddy!"

"Sit back, baby girl."

I obeyed, my face contorted into a great big sourpuss.

He laughed. “How can I be mad at you?"

"You can't,” I grinned. “You can only be happy with me."

The rest of the ride I was the little princess, getting to play with the windows and the radio. I asked a million questions, I rested my head on his shoulder. I begged him until he stops for an ice cream at one of the highway exits.

Finally I fell asleep, my head in his lap.

It was the most peacefully I had slept in ages.

Unlike the present; I am certainly not sleeping now. My every sense is on alert. I relax while the shower is on, but not completely. I half expect Brian to come out while the water's still running, just to mess with me.

He takes his sweet time, or maybe I'm just too on edge. It feels like forever. I want so badly to play with myself. Would he care? Does he even have to know? I'd rather not take chances, but I can only take so much burning. At last I give in, lifting my pelvis and slipping my hand underneath. I know right where to put it.

I fuck my hand, moving as quick as I can. It's humiliating trying to sneak in pleasure like this-after all this is supposed to be my body.

I'm getting real close when I become aware of someone standing over me. Shit, did he float in here like some kind of ninja?

"Just couldn't help yourself, could you?” He has the handcuffs we bought at the toy store.

"What are you going to do to me?” I ask-though it's pretty clear as he clicks the steel on my wrists that I am going into bondage.

"Removing temptation. For a little slave slut who can't keep her hands where they belong."

"Please, Brian,” I moan, my dignity in ruins. “I'm so horny. Please let me come?"

"Negative. I think you need to concentrate on Master for a while."