Unfettered, Part IV

This is an adult blog, containing graphic and detailed descriptions of sexual situations and BDSM themes. Read at your own risk.


I wake in the morning, and stretch languidly. I'd indulged in a long soak in the tub last night, so I'm not feeling too sore this morning, thankfully. The bruises on my breasts are a lovely deep purple now; I will bear those marks for several days, perhaps longer. I like them very much.

I roll quietly out of bed, careful not to disturb Master, and head to the bathroom, where I quickly take care of business, wash up,  and brush my teeth. Master like to be awakened by my mouth on his cock, but I can't abide doing it when my teeth feel furry from sleeping all night. Eewww. So with my now-minty mouth, I take a deep breath, and tiptoe back tot he bedroom.

Master is lying partly on his side, partly on his back, with the sheet kind of twisted around him. I climb back on the bed - I can't help it now if I wake him - and gently tug the sheet away from his body. He stirs a little, and I bend down, bracing my weight on my arms, and pull his cock into my mouth. I breathe shallowly, acclimating myself to his musky scent, and stroke the tip of my tongue along his length. I gag, then, because I always do, but it's a little one, so I don't stop what I'm doing. My arms are getting a little tired already so I shift my position a bit, changing the angle of my mouth, working now to pull him as deep as I can while his cock swells and lengthens in my mouth. I know that soon enough I won't be able to take him all, so I do it now while I still can.

He groans softly, and shifts more to his back, so I follow, not allowing his cock to slip past my lips. He pulls in a deep breath and says, "Good morning, whore."

I pull away just long enough to reply to him, "Good morning, Master," then immediately latch onto his cock once again. He's harder now, almost too thick, and my lips stretch wide and my jaw pops as I try to accommodate his size. I whine in response to the jaw pop, cuz that smarted quite a bit. His hand comes to rest on the back of my head and I take a deep breath through my nose, trying to relax as he presses my head toward his groin, forcing his cock all the way to the back of my throat. That makes me gag, hard, and I have to fight with myself to remain still and not pull away. I am rewarded with a husky "Good girl."

He lets go, and I resume bobbing my head, pulling his cock in and letting it slide out, over and over again. "You are a good little cocksucker, my whore," he murmurs. I gag again, and this time I feel my stomach lurch, so I pull away and cough, my eyes tearing. Ugh. I hate when that happens. When I bend down again, he tells me to give him his pussy. I pivot on my knees so that he can easily reach his prize, then turn my attention to sucking his cock once again.

His fingers are questing, pressing inside me then pulling back out, and I open my knees wider for him. I find it difficult to concentrate on sucking him while his fingers are pounding inside me, and when he rubs my clit, it's with so much pressure that it's not pleasant at all, but uncomfortable. I squirm, pulling away from him, and he smacks my ass hard and tells me to stay still. Now I am trying to give him a good, thorough morning blow job, but his fingers are still pressing so firmly that it almost, almost hurts, and I don't like that at all. I close my eyes and chant to myself, "OK, OK, OK, OK..." It helps a little, but really, my jaw has locked and hurts like a bitch, my clit is not happy, my pussy is beginning to feel sore, and my arms ache from holding myself up.

I wrap my fingers around the base of his cock and start stroking him in time with my sucking. I hope he allows me to make him cum; that would be a fine start to our day. I feel him shift position again, and his hand drops from my pussy and grasps my leg. Then, he starts speaking - or demanding, really.

"Do you like sucking my cock, whore? Has my whore missed my cock?"  I hum agreement without letting loose of him - "Mmm-hmm, mmmm, mmm, " - and stroke him faster, swirling my tongue over him while I pull and slide and push. He bucks his hips up, nearly gagging me yet again.

"Do you want my cum? Do you?"

This time I do lift my head to answer him, rubbing the side of my cheek all over his cock while I reply.  "Yes, Master, yes, I do." And I drop my head and pull him right back into my mouth, sucking him as hard as I can, wanting his cum, wanting to swallow his essence. He begins thrusting his hips up, fucking my mouth, and I lean back just a bit, just to prevent myself from gagging, as this is definitely not the time for it.

"If you want it, you need to take it," he says, and his voice is deep and fierce. I know he's getting close, and I want nothing else in this moment but to have him spill himself in my mouth. My heart is racing, my arms trembling, my knees sore, and if my mouth were not otherwise occupied, I would be panting. "Are you ready, whore? Take it, take it, take every drop, take it," his voice is commanding, and then his body stiffens and he groans. Thick spurts of cum fill my mouth and I swallow, and swallow, and swallow, my hand still wrapped around his cock, my tongue still working his shaft in between bursts. He slowly relaxes into the mattress, and still he's cumming, and still I'm swallowing, because I really do not want to miss any.

At last, he's finished, and I carefully pull my mouth away, coating his cock with my tongue, careful to lap up any drops of his precious essence as it oozes lazily form his spent cock. I have to lick him several times to capture it all, and when at last every drop has been consumed, I flop on my side, panting harshly. I'm covered in sweat, my body is trembling, his taste still on my tongue. I lean forward to rest my forehead against his knee, content to rest here beside him. And I say, gratefully, "Thank you, Master."