Eventide (Her Father, My Master) (21 page)

Though the pain was still there, I smiled back. “That's for doms. I can apologize as much as I want.”

“Fine.” We both made our way to his bedroom, which was looking much cleaner these days. I was

glad to be a positive influence on his life in that regard. His entire small apartment was looking cleaner, in fact, and in part because I helped him with those chores.

“So what's on the schedule for today?” he asked as we both sat on the bed, pulling out his so-called

course materials.

I laid back on the bed, thinking. We'd had so many sessions, and we'd gone over everything in both of

the books, and much of the papers. Derrick was a good learner, a fast learner, and he drank up everything

I told him like a thirsty sponge. I had some ideas for what our next lesson should be, but for the first time in all of our sessions, I decided to give him the reins. It was time. He could do this; I had confidence in him to pull it off now.

“You choose,” I simply said, closing my eyes.

There was silence – enough silence that I finally cracked an eye open to see what he was doing.

There was a hungry glint in his eyes. And his arms were crossed. He wasn't stumped, he was just

thinking.

“All right,” he finally said, and I screwed my eyes shut once more. “Hands and knees. Now.”

I opened my eyes and obeyed. “Yes, sir,” I murmured as I assumed the pose he commanded me into.

It was a familiar one – one of the best poses for BDSM, and one my own master used regularly. Of

course.

“Close your eyes,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir.” I heard a rustling of fabric now and felt a blindfold begin placed around my head. Good.

One of the first things I'd taught him was that most subs weren't going to be as experienced as me. He

couldn't just command them to shut their eyes and expect blindness that way. He had to force them, just a

bit.

And he was good. After he tied the strip of fabric in a snug knot at the back of my head, he let his

hands drift downwards. His fingertips traced along my neck, my back, and then dipped lower, brushing

against my breasts and sensitive nipples. I shuddered. This was just the kind of teasing that I liked.

“Silence, too, I think,” he muttered. So there would be a gag as well. My own master avoided gags.

He liked to have me control myself. But Derrick liked to control me, I noticed, more than Mr. Hendricks.

So the ball gag went in my mouth. My teeth clenched around the rubber ball in the gag, my lips parted to

take it in.

“Good girl,” he said, and I shuddered in reply. This was so different, yet so similar.

It became more similar than different to me in a few moments, when Derrick pulled out the whip and

started lashing me. When that leather cord slammed down on my ass, with hardly any warning at all, I

screamed around the ball gag, a muffled shriek of mingled pleasure and pain. That lash was transformed

into a fire that drilled directly into my brain. I needed more. I needed so much more.

And he gave it to me, just like Mr. Hendricks would. He didn't hold back, not at all, and he was so

much more confident than he'd been when he started with this. I still remembered the first time he tried to whip me, several weeks ago. He'd only been able to get out two or three lashes before nervousness

overcame him, but now, now he was a machine. He slammed out five lashes easily, then ten, then fifteen.

My ass was on fire. It burned with pain, it lanced up my back, even as other parts of me throbbed and

ached, and begged to be filled. I wanted to scream in pleasure, beg him to take me, to please take me and

fill me and fuck me, but after he put the whip down he only continued to tease me. He hadn't even

undressed yet.

Now, he jumped on the bed and ground his hips against my sore, tender ass. His jeans felt like fiery

sandpaper against my skin, and his throbbing erection teased and hinted at what I could have, but he

wouldn't give me. Every sensation was heightened, too. Every touch, every feeling, because I couldn't

see or speak. I loved being deprived of my sight and my voice. It made everything else so much more.

“I got something new at the store, girl,” he said now. He always called me girl during our plays. “I

wasn't sure I should try experimenting with it, but now I think I will.”

My eyes widened behind the blindfold. What could he have possibly gotten that I didn't know about

already? I felt rough fingers fumble at the ball gag. And then it came off, but it was quickly replaced by another, different type of gag. It was like the ball gag, but instead of the ball, there was a leather-wrapped metal ring in its place. I knew what this was.

This gag would allow him to fuck my face, while I was gagged. I couldn't speak, but I could take his

cock in. I shuddered, shivers of anticipation rolling through my body. I'd never used a gag like this

before. My other master was not as into blow jobs as Derrick. Or as I was. I loved blow jobs, I loved

sucking dick. But I simply accepted that it was something Mr. Hendricks just wasn't as into.

But now it seemed I would get my fill of cock. After Derrick snapped the gag in place and my lips

encircled that ring, I could feel him grabbing my shoulders and pushing my back on the bed, giving him

space at the head of it. I obeyed like the good little slave I was, scrabbling backwards until my feet

hooked over the edge of it.

“I know how much you like cock, girl,” Derrick purred, his voice oozing with confidence. I

remembered how, just a few weeks ago, saying something like that would have him dissolve into a fit of

giggling. But now he knew how to get into the role of a dom. I'd trained him well. “Now you're going to

get it,” he growled, and I felt the tips of his dick brush past my lips and into my wide open mouth.

I loved it. He was rock hard, and I loved how that thick cock felt entering my mouth. It was a long,

thick pole encased in velvety soft skin. He tastes salty, with a musky aroma that filled my nostrils. Every sense of mine that I still had control over was filled to the brim. My whole world was my master.

Derrick.

“Ungh,” he groaned as he slipped further and further inside me. Though I couldn't control and purse

my lips, my tongue still eagerly wrapped around his head and shaft, pressing against his cock as firmly as

it could. And he thrust, deeper and deeper inside me, until he was slipping down my throat. I took him

all in. I took him in eagerly.

He pressed his hips up against my face, until my nose was bumped against his pubic hair. I tensed my

own body, forcing back that gag reflex as he slipped down my throat. He was so long, so thick. I was

glad that I had practiced with deep throating so much in the past months. As he groaned and grunted

above me, as he began to thrust, I felt my own longing swell and roll through my body. I loved giving him

pleasure. I loved knowing that he was doing whatever he wanted to me. And I wanted more. I wanted

that cock buried inside my cunt, not my mouth. But I couldn't say anything. Even if he wasn't balls deep in my mouth, I couldn't say anything. It wasn't my place to decide what would happen to me.

I was a good girl. I was a good slave.

He pleasured himself on me for seconds, and then minutes, wantonly thrusting up against my face,

gripping and pulling my hair without a single thought or regard to my well being. I'd trained him so well.

My scalp prickled with tiny pains as he pulled, and he slammed his hips down on my face over and over

again. He felt so good, so good, I could feel my climax build and threaten, even without any further

attention paid to my needy cunt.

“Yes, yes,” he moaned, drawing himself in and out, in and out, over and over. He was close. He was

so close, I could sense it by the way his cock throbbed and twitched in my mouth. I could have sworn that

it swelled even larger in an impending orgasm.

But he didn't give it to himself. He didn't give himself that release, not yet. Abruptly, he pulled out of my mouth, and reached around to slap my ass. “Turn around,” he commanded.

I obeyed, my skin searing as he slap reawakened that memory of his enthusiastic whipping. I heard the

snap of a condom as I shifted into place. So it would end here. Good... I needed to come as badly as he

did.

There was nothing slow or sweet about what he did next. He sank himself balls deep in my slick

pussy now, spreading me wide with no warning whatsoever. Though I could have screamed – I didn't

have the ball gag in my mouth anymore – I didn't. I merely let out a huge juddering gasp of mixed relief

and aching need. I needed to feel that cock inside me every second of every day.

He didn't go slow. He slammed his hips down on my tortured ass now, sending more sparks of

mingled pleasure and pain up to my brain. I was overloaded with the feeling of it. I was so close, so

close.

And so was Derrick, apparently. It only took a few frenzied thrusts before he was roaring with a loud

orgasm. He slammed his hips down erratically now as his unloaded himself me. I could almost feel his

come spray against my walls, although I knew that was in my head. He was wearing a condom, after all.

After he finished, he pushed himself out of me, pushing me over on the bed. I squirmed and writhed; I

still hadn't come yet, and my need was huge. It overwhelmed me. It overshadowed everything else in my

life at the moment.

He smirked. I couldn't see him, but I could tell from the way he spoke that he was smirking. “Poor

thing. You need to come, don't you.”

I moaned wordlessly. The round gag in my mouth prevented any speech. I could only communicate

like an animal did, with wordless grunts and moans.

I felt a shifting on the bed as he reached over and untied the gag, freeing my mouth and making me

capable of speech once again. “Am I right?” he asked in a stern voice. Shivers rolled up my body.

“Yes, yes, please let me come, sir,” I begged. I wanted to crawl up against him and grind my hips on

his body until I felt that erotic explosion within me, but I couldn't. I didn't have permission.

“That doesn't sound very convincing,” he said.

“Please,” I whimpered, rolling onto my back and displaying my neediness to him. “I need to come. I

need to feel it. I need it. I need you, master.”

“You really are a needy little thing,” he commented. “But are you needy enough? I'm not sure.”

Oh God. He was making me beg for my climax and I loved every second of it. I whimpered and

cajoled, thrusting myself up in the air in a futile exercise. “Please, please,” I devolved into a broken

record as my drenched cunt throbbed and ached. I needed to come, and what was more, I needed my

master to make me come. I could do it myself.

“Oh, my poor little tortured girl..” Derrick finally relented, and I felt his hot hands grasp my thighs,

push my ass back down on his bed and spread my legs apart. I let out a great juddering gasp when his

head fell between my legs, and his tongue trace its way up my inner thighs. He felt exquisite, painfully

divine.

“Jesus,” I gasped, and he slapped a leg.

“Silence.”

I complied. I wanted to moan and gasp and scream but Derrick demanded silence, so that's want I

would give him. As his tongue explored me, parting the folds of my moist lips, finding that sensitive

button of a clit, I only let out the quietest whimpers. I wanted so badly to show him how much pleasure he

was giving me, but I had to remain silent, instead.

And whenever I got too loud, he slapped me again, right on my whiplash wounds.

It was a slow build, but he began to go faster. His tongue slipped and slid all over my pussy, drinking

in my juices, and his lips kissing and pressed against my clit. I could feel my climax rising quickly. My

tensed and my ass lifted from the bed once more as I pushed myself downwards, towards that erotic

source of pleasure. Derrick.

Then, as he focused on my clit, his tongue pressing down and writhing against it, I came.

Explosively. My body rocked in the throes of my silent orgasm. My arms and legs shivered and shook as

my head was thrown back, my mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure.

“Good girl,” Derrick finally said when I calmed down, lifting his head up. He crawled forward and

untied my blindfold. “How was that?” he asked, looking down at my expectantly.

I grinned. The play was over. “That was amazing.” Without even thinking, I lifted my head, and we

kissed.

That kiss was electric. I could still taste myself on him, and he snaked an arm under my body, lifting

me up even further. It was amazing. Like nothing else I'd ever experienced.

But when it ended, I felt in shock. What exactly was happening here?

Did I love him?

I tried to convince myself that I didn't, but every time we met, every time we did this, it got harder.

Derrick seemed to sense my inner turmoil, but he didn't ask about it. Instead, he let go of his embrace,

and helped me out of his bed. We both got dressed, and sat on the bed for many long minutes as we both

calmed down from that intense session.

“So, you want to go over any more of this?” he finally broke the silence, gesturing to the books and

papers that had been thrown on the ground during our session. “You want to talk about my performance?

We still have an hour.”

I shook my head. “Your performance was amazing. You really know your stuff now.”