Eventide (Her Father, My Master) (8 page)

you understand. Put your forehead on the ground.”

Another command issued, and another command obeyed. My body thrilled as I pressed my head down

into the carpet, the fibers barely brushing against my nose. It smelled clean, and faintly floral. But the carpet was the last thing on my mind, now. I was painfully aware of how exposed I'd made myself to my

master. My ass was raised in the air in a most needful position, and my legs were slightly spread. Mr.

Hendricks could surely see – and smell – everything about me right now. I wanted to squirm and back up

against him, and beg him to take me, but I knew I had to be obedient. This was what he was looking for.

My continued obedience, despite our temporary distance.

“I want you to repeat something, until I tell you to stop,” he said, giving no sign that he even

acknowledged my current position. “Repeat after me: I am an obedient slave. My master gives me

pleasure.”

“I am an obedient slave. My master gives me pleasure,” I repeated softly, breathing into the carpet.

As I said those words, that needful fire rose within me. It was true. I was obedient. And he did give me

pleasure. So, so much pleasure. I groaned softly.

“Again!” he commanded, slapping me lightly on my very exposed ass. I squealed and lurched forward

“I am an obedient slave. My master gives me pleasure.” The fire rose and swelled, even hotter. It

was true, it was true. “I am an obedient slave. My master gives me pleasure.”

I spoke those words over and over, so many times they seemed to lose meaning. All I knew was, I

was here, in my master's house again, and I was his, and I wanted him, and he wanted me. Lust grew and

flowered inside me, and no matter how hard I tried to stay still and obedient, chanting those erotic words,

I still found myself squirming. I was totally exposed to him. He could choose to take me at any moment,

without any warning at all.

But every time I squirmed, he slapped me, and every slap became progressively harsher, stinging my

ass. I steeled my will and forced my body to remain still.

I didn't even know how much time had passed, when he finally relented. It could have been ten

minutes. It could have been an hour. I depended on my master completely to keep track of the time, just

one more way that I relinquished control to him.

I was mid-chant, when Mr. Hendricks interrupted me. “Up,” he commanded.

I abandoned the chant now, quickly scrambling to my feet and facing him. My body pulsed and ached

with need, and I could feel my need in another way, between my legs. I was slick with longing; I was

drenched. My breath came in juddering gasps as I stood before my master now. My chest rose and

heaved. I needed him. I needed him more than anything, right now.

But it seemed he wanted to continue the tortuous wait. “I thought we would try a new type of bondage

tonight,” he said lowly, holding up a length of rope. My eyes widened, and I stared at him in askance.

“It's exactly as it appears, pet,” he said, answering my unasked question. “Go sit on the bed, and

remain absolutely still.”

“Of course, it's more than just rope bondage, it's Japanese rope bondage. Very intricate. Very

difficult. It's been a while since I've done this,” he said in a conversational tone as he followed me to the bed.

He placed his hands on my shoulders now, running them along my cool skin, taking in the familiar

landscape of my body. His flesh was hot against mine; it nearly seared me with its heat. There were no

words, now, only his hands pressing against my body, and the rope.

It felt like no other rope he'd used before. The fibers smelled natural, almost wood-like to me. The

coils pressed and scratched against my skin. My master wrapped it around my shoulders, my belly and

back, and around my breasts, putting more than a little pressure on them.

He'd implied that he was rusty, but he wrapped me with all the confidence of a practiced expert. He

didn't make a single mistake, as far as I could tell. Which is why I knew it was a part of the play when he made a mistake.

“Oh dear. This isn't right. I need to start over.” He dropped the rope and it fell from me. I wanted to

groan, I wanted to scream and throw myself against him, and beg him to take me, but I knew that this was

how he was testing me.

So I remained as still and silent as possible, as he started over. And started over again. And again.

But he was only able to tease me for so long. I knew he needed me too. I had to be patient, though.

Finally, he finished his task, and ran his hands over the rough fibers of the rope. They scratched my

skin, and made me completely aware of my master through their harshness. There was no way I could

forget Mr. Hendricks, with this rope on. I chanced a look down, and saw the intricate loops and knots of

the rope. It did look beautiful.

“Eventually, I would like to suspend you from this rope,” he commented, and I widened my eyes at

him yet again. Was I capable of something like that? I wasn't sure.

“Not now, though,” he continued, his grasp growing rough and that harsh glint back in his eyes. “Now,

I will have you.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied, ever obedient. I needed him.

My wrists were currently bound by the rope, and I was sitting on the bed, so Mr. Hendricks grabbed

me bodily around the waist, and flipped me onto the bed, on my hands and knees, in the same position I

was in not half an hour ago as I chanted. My face pressed into the soft sheets of the bed, and I inhaled

deeply. It smelled like him, and his smell was overwhelmingly intoxicating to me. I whimpered and

groaned into the mattress. I tried to be patient, but it was so difficult.

I didn't have long to wait though, for I heard the rustling of fabric, and then my master was on me, his

cock pressing full and firm against my back. He leaned over my bound body, and hooked his fingers on

the rope that curled around my neck, pulling my head off the bed.

“What are you?” he rasped, his voice deep and commanding.

“I am an obedient slave. My master gives me pleasure,” I immediately replied. The chant was etched

into my brain, and I couldn't deny its truth.

He dragged that thick cock of his downward now. “Say it again,” he commanded.

“I am an obedient slave. My master gives me pleasure,” I groaned and lowered my head again as he

released his grip, sliding both of his hands down my back and into position at my hips. I pressed my

forehead against the cool sheets and breathed in again, his scent filling my nostrils and my world.

“Again.” His cock slipped between my ass, playing around the tight pucker of my asshole before

drifting lower. His body shivered when he dipped between my folds. I was slick, and drenched.

“I am an obedient slave. My master gives me pleasure.” As I spoke, he thrust his way inside me, and

I gasped with the sudden feeling of fullness. He was so big, even bigger than I remembered, and he

stretched me wide, right to my very limits.

I moaned and repeated the chant as my master slid slowly out of me now, letting me feel every

exquisite, agonizing inch of him. He didn't need to order me to chant. I simply did it.

He slammed his way back inside me now, and I nearly screamed with mingled pleasure and pain. He

was so big, he was huge. I repeated the chant, my forehead pressed against the sheets, my bound hands

clawing at the fabric.

My master was merciless, as he began to pound against me faster and faster. I sped up my chanting in

time with his thrusts, in tempo with him as he moved faster and faster against me, his hips slamming down

on my ass, pushing me forward on the bed as he filled me, over and over and over again.

“I am an obedient slave. My master gives me pleasure.” Faster and faster he went. He was groaning

loudly now, and his hands had crawled forward on my body, grabbing the rope that bound me and yanking

me back against his, so I could feel him even more deeply. I groaned and shuddered and convulsed

around him. He felt so good, so good that I thought I might come, just from this. I was so close.

“Come around me, pet,” he growled and dipped his hand around my waist, between my legs, and then

down on my slick, hyper-sensitive clit. I let out a muffled scream into the bed, and came, suddenly and

violently.

My legs were caught in spasms of euphoria now as I shuddered violently from the force of my sudden

and powerful climax. Euphoria spread through my veins, not only from the orgasm, but from the fact that I

was able to please my master so well and so thoroughly. He was groaning and slamming against me now,

as my cunt clenched and flexed around his mammoth of a cock. He wouldn't be able to hold up to such an

onslaught of pleasure for long.

Indeed, he could only last mere seconds before succumbing to his own pleasure. An orgasm racked

his body, and he slammed his hips against my ass one, two, three more times as he roared with pleasure. I

loved it. I loved making him come, even more than orgasming myself. I loved knowing that I could bring

him such feelings.

He knelt behind me for many long moments as we both panted and savored the remaining pleasurable

feelings coursing through our bodies. His cock was still buried deep inside me, and I could still feel

myself twitching around him.

“Good girl,” he finally said, withdrawing from me and levering himself up off the low bed. I cringed

slightly as he pulled out of me. He was so big, and now I felt so empty.

I quivered, remaining in the same position. I would stay like this until he released me and allowed me

to get up. He walked around the bed, letting his fingers drag along my over-stimulated, hyper-sensitive

skin. I shuddered at his touch. I wanted more of him.

“I want you to keep these ropes on for another twenty-four hours,” he said softly as he reached my

wrists, removing the binding and tying the excess rope expertly around my waist.

“Yes, sir.” I trembled at the thought. The ropes were rough, and already biting into my skin. I knew

he wanted me to keep them on myself, so I would remember who my master was.

“Now, you have fifteen minutes, then you must leave. I'll contact you when I require you again.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. One last thing. What are you, pet?”

“I am an obedient slave. My master gives me pleasure,” I said my mantra once again. Another shiver

ran up my spine.

“Good girl.” With that said, he disappeared into the master bathroom, and I was left alone in the

room.

I lay on the bed, quivering, for a few minutes more, just taking in the entire play, enjoying every last

minute of the wonderful afterglow that always descended upon me. But soon enough, I had to go. I only

had a few minutes to depart.

Dragging my body out of my bed, I quickly located my clothes. I didn't want to put them back on. I

wanted to stay here. But my master gave me an order, so I did put them back on, hating every inch of

fabric that touched my skin.

My only pleasure now was the rope still binding me. It felt lusciously painful, scraped roughly against

my skin. It would be a constant reminder of my master and his control over me. And thankfully, once I

had my clothes on, there was no evidence of the rope at all.

As I left the room, I heard the shower turn on. I would not be seeing my master again, but that was all

right. I'd just spent the last two or three hours with him.

Indeed, I noticed it was nearly ten, when I arrived at my little sedan.

As I made my way home, I wondered when I would see him again.

Hopefully soon. He was like a drug to me.

I didn't have to work the following day, which was a good thing, as I was still bound. I wasn't certain

I would be entirely comfortable working with this rope wrapped around me, pinching ever so slightly at

my body and my breasts. Even talking to my parents felt strange, though arousing. To know that my

master had tied me up like this, secretly, and I had to interact with my parents in this state. It was very difficult to keep myself from groaning.

Thankfully, I didn't have anything at all planned for today. I spent the afternoon locked in my room

with Flicker. He didn't care if I was totally bound up, all he wanted was attention.

I found myself drifting towards a popular BDSM forum that I frequently lurked on. It was good to

know that I wasn't the only person in the world with this fetish, and this arrangement. There were

hundreds of couples in the same situation as myself and my master, if not thousands. Though I didn't know

of any with the amount of age disparity that we had.

I flinched and instinctively ducked my head, when I thought of that. It was true. He was old, much

older than me, and I was so young. I sometimes wondered whether he was taking advantage of my youth,

my inexperience, my willingness to please. He had said in the past that he wanted to help me, but did he

really? Or was he just taking advantage of me?

I shook my head violently, chasing those negative thoughts away. No. He wanted me. He was

handsome, built, and confident. He could have any woman he wanted, even in a slave capacity. I already

knew that there were plenty of women like me to go around.

But he chose me. He didn't need me. He chose to be with me.

I sighed softly, thumbing through the forums. As I took another breath, the ropes strained against my