WAY OF LIFE

Selena Kitt

You’ve been a bad girl.”

My heart sank when he shut the bedroom door and locked it behind him.

I couldn’t remember anything I’d done but he always said I was too impulsive. And it was true—I couldn’t seem to help myself.

“I’m sorry,” I said immediately, even if I couldn’t remember what I’d done. It was always the best way to start. “I won’t do it again.”

“Down.”

That was all he had to say. I sank to my knees, hands resting on my bare thighs, shoulders back, gaze fixed on the carpet.

He had taught me this.

He had taught me everything.

The leash snapped onto my collar—my only adornment—with a resounding click. My body reacted instantly. My nipples formed tan, ridged peaks while anticipation forced a leak, like a hairline crack in a dam. The trickle between my legs would eventually threaten to flood. It was only a matter of time.

I was going to be punished, and although I knew I wasn’t supposed to like it—I did.

“You enjoy my new toy, don’t you?”

A surge of shame seared my cheeks.

Now I remembered.

He’d purchased a large sex toy, one with a saddle. It had attachments. They buzzed like a thousand bees making sweet honey deep inside me. We’d used it once, and it had felt so good, I couldn’t help trying it out myself when he was gone.

I thought I’d been careful.

How did he know?

“I can smell your cunt.” He yanked the leash, lifting my face. “Even when you wash it off, pet, I can smell you.”

He pulled me along and I crawled after him. The machine was on the floor. I noticed he’d put a different attachment on it—for double penetration. I winced, but didn’t object when he lubed up the dildos and ordered me to climb on.

They were cold and it was hard to maneuver to get them both to slide in, but I managed. He used a foot pedal controller, starting the motor purring, and I began to purr right along with it. The dildo in my pussy whirred softly, vibrating and turning at the same time. The one in my ass just hummed deeply, making me moan.

“Suck.”

I knew what to do. I released his cock from his trousers and worked him into my mouth. The machine shuddered between my legs as I whimpered, rocking, rubbing my clit along the ribbed, silicone surface.

“Dirty whore.” He thrust deeper into my mouth, making me choke on it. “You love having all those holes filled, don’t you?”

I flushed scarlet, nodding, admitting my humiliation. The heat of my shame only fueled the flames that licked fiercely between my legs.

“Let’s try these on for size.”

I didn’t stop sucking as he reached into his shirt pocket but I did cry out when he attached a clamp to my throbbing nipples, first one, then the other. They bit into my flesh, a sharp sting that built to a slow, steady burn. He watched me writhe on the machine.

“Keep sucking.”

The new sensation had distracted me and I went back to work, using just my mouth, the way he’d taught me, following his lead when he wanted to fuck my throat more deeply. His foot worked the pedal, kicking the machine up a notch, making me twist and thrash, caught somewhere in a torturous quagmire of both pleasure and pain.

I avoided his gaze, trying to keep my feelings hidden, not quite understanding them yet myself. But they tasted delicious. Sweet, with just a hint of smugness.

Did he really believe this was punishment?

“You’re not allowed to come, pet. Not until I say.” He slipped one hand under my long, dark hair, making a fist. I nodded, gulping down his length. I knew that. “No matter what I do.”

I groaned as he tilted my head back, shoving his cock in to the root. Forcing me to take it, to taste the bitterness of this punishment deep in my throat. There was a diabolical method to his madness after all. I had defied him on this machine and now he was going to torture me with it.

My pussy dripped wildfire as he pressed the foot pedal, taking me higher still. My nipples had gone blessedly numb, but my breasts felt heavy, too full, ripe and ready to burst with feeling. I didn’t know how long I could stand it.

He was the epitome of control, even though my saliva coated his length and I guzzled his cock as fast as I could. Watching my face, he somehow caught every minute change in my expression and adjusted the settings accordingly, pushing me—forward, back, forward, back—until I thought I’d go mad with desire.

“Master!” I gave up, pressing my cheek to his belly.

I only called him that when we were here, like this, after he’d ordered me down.

“Please…” I begged, needing the release he kept just out of my reach.

“Not yet.” He toyed with the chain between the nipple clamps, tugging gently, making my hips buck. I gave in, submitting to his will, continuing to fight the rising tide. My limbs trembled with the effort.

“Stroke it.”

My hand moved, the tip of him wet with precome, making it an easier slide. He grunted and moved closer, aiming at my breasts.

“Are you ready, pet?”

“Oh yes, please!” I arched, pleading with my eyes.

He tugged on the chain, a slow, steady tension, pulling. I gasped, feeling it in my clit somehow as the nipple clamps slid off with a hot, stinging pop, my breasts coming alive, a sudden inferno of sensation.

“Now,” he commanded.

I surrendered, my body wracked with my climax, convulsing uncontrollably with one final, blissful release. He thrust into my hand with a deep, determined roar, splashing my tender breasts with liquid fire, burning my throbbing nipples with his heat. I cried out in pleasure and pain, completely his.

He turned off the machine. I whimpered, leaning forward on it, still shivering.

Then he unhooked the leash from my collar. “Up.”

I went to him, whispering his name—not “Master” now, but always Master, even if I wasn’t saying it—as he cuddled me in the crook of his arm. He led me to the bed and cleaned me up. We rested, quiet, the room filled with the musky scent of our sex. I loved the smell of us together.

“You like my new toy?”

I smiled. “I’ll say.”

“Perhaps you’d like permission to use it when I’m gone?”

Eagerly, I nodded. “Yes! Please. May I?”

He kissed the top of my head, breathing me in. “All you had to do was ask.”

I bent my repentant head, resting it against his heart, a silent apology.

In that moment, I knew this was what I needed. What I was born for.

I loved it—and I loved him. Beyond sex. Or words. Or even life.

He was my life.

This was our way of life.

And neither of us would have it any other way.