Her New Master

He came into the house late again, this time it was an act of defiance instead of him being forgetful. He knew she would get upset over his late arrival, but today Thomas couldn't care less about her reaction. She called earlier to harass him about his being late and he had responded with a swift disconnection in anger. Thomas casually opened the door to his bedroom and saw Ariel spring up from the bed and rush to inches apart from his face.

"Where the fuck have you been!? I've been waiting for 2 fucking hours for you to get back so we could go!" she spat.

The moisture from her spit alone enraged him further, "Look I just didn't want to deal with your shit so I stayed out a while longer, okay?!" Thomas shot back.

"No, no it's not okay, every time you want to do something I'm ready but when it's something I want you couldn't care less!" Ariel returned, now yelling at full blast and causing his ears to ring.

"It was just one time, if it bothers you so much, why don't you just fucking leave, I don't need your shit," he used the last of his calm in his words but it mattered not.

Ariel's reaction to his hateful proposal was an immediate and hard slap across his face, breaking their intense eye contact for a moment while his head moved from the impact. She held no surprise from her impromptu action, but as Thomas took both his hands to her neck in a choke and forced her back into the wall nearest the bed her eyes bulged in shock. Ariel tried to utter "stop it" but the words couldn't make it past her shut throat, and so Thomas spoke in her turn.

"Do you want me to end you, is that what you fucking want from me? Is that why you piss me off all the time, you little shit?!" he asked her in a rage.

Instead of trying to respond again, she instead took aim at fighting back and kicked at his leg, landing it square onto his right knee. The pain forced him back long enough for his grip to loosen,

"You couldn't even if you tried!" and she delivered this time a left punch to his gut.

It took him by surprise enough that he let go of her neck entirely, but took revenge fast in the form of his own backhand across Ariel's still-red face after he stood back straight.

She showed slight tearing up but made no face of sadness, "You can't even fuck me right and you want me to believe you can kill me?" she laughed and shoved Thomas further away.

"Oh you think so huh?" he said cynically, stepping back closer to her.

"I know!" she shot back and gave another slap across his face.

Out of challenge alone he slapped her hard back, hard enough to make her sway and recoil from the strike. Before Ariel could fully stand again, Thomas retook her neck in his hand and choked her tightly while pressing her back into the wall. He used his free hand to slap her again and again, until her face began to darken with red from the hits and purple from lack of oxygen. Finally when she started to waver, he kissed at her lips. Still she fought back, opting to refuse his advance, instead biting down onto his lip until it bled hard. The last of any control he had left in the drops of blood coming down his chin, and with it he was no longer concerned with her wants, he was concerned with his own of making her regret her words. Yet, he had a calm about him when he took her by the hair and dragged her by it towards his desk, her punches and kicks following suit.

Ariel stopped and gasped a little when Thomas decided to pick up his old paddle he kept for decoration. She tried to resume her tantrum, but before she could the paddle connected with her chest in hard surprise. There was no room to react, he took the opportunity to shove her down to the floor and immediately held her face-down by using his arm as a bar to shove her back down. The paddle connected with her ass flat across both cheeks with such force the sound resonated throughout the room, along with her yelps and screams.

"If you wanted to be treated like a little bitch, you should have just told me, it would have saved so much time," Thomas said with an icy tone.

"I'm not a-" was all Ariel could shout before her own screams cut her off; he was now connecting his slams to each already-sore cheek individually.

She had been trying to claw, slap, punch, connect any part of her hands to force him off, but her tantrum went to no avail. He stopped only long enough to shove down her shorts and panties to her knees, to see the damage he was causing, and found more than he bargained for. Besides her beet red and worn cheeks, between her legs, he could make out that her young puffy lips below were thoroughly wet, along with a small spot on her panties. She wanted this, she smelled of desire, she wanted this pain all along and couldn't tell him. Thomas swiftly grabbed her shoulder and flipped her onto her back, causing her to wince when her rear connected with the floor.

"Mind explaining what this is?" he asked, clutching onto her dampened panties.

"What, you don't know what panties are?" she laughed.

Instead of a verbal response, he found a nearby metal coat hanger on the ground and unwound it into one long piece, then pulled up her shirt and whipped it across her back. The effect was immediate, Ariel cried out in agony as her new torture device took skin off with its sharp end, leaving a long red open scar across her back. She arched her body and stretched out her legs long enough for Thomas to grab her bottoms and pull them from her knees off past her ankles. He then took her moist underwear and shoved the pair into her still screaming mouth and proceeded to whip his pig. 1...2...7, he lost count the number of times he struck, and the now overlapping scares of blood were too numerous and overlapping to count. When he grew bored, he took her by the waist, flipped her like a pancake onto her back, then stared into her eyes as he quickly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, then pushed them off.

With his cock at full attention, he took it and in one simple stroke pushed the full length into her sopped pussy and was met with a clear moan audible even through Ariel's panties. At first he got the idea to do with her as he pleased, but he knew that was what she was hoping for; he had a more sinister punishment instead. Instead of fury, Thomas took a snail's pace in his strokes by completely controlling his motions, he would press full deep inside then retreat until the head would struggle to remain inside. The plan was taking its effect. Ariel began to squirm around, using her arms to brace her as she tried to grind against his strokes. Her legs wrapped around his waist and locked ankles behind him, preventing his retreat. He saw her act as defiance; he was in command of her pleasure, not the other way around.

Just as she began to moan louder from the deeper strokes, she was silenced by a hand gripping tight around her throat. At the same time, her legs were being spread apart by his other hand, her ankle grip was being loosened from the force. Coupled with the near-complete lack of oxygen, her trap on him fell.

Thomas pulled back on her neck and slammed her head and upper body into the floor and exclaimed, "I am the one in control here, understand me?!"

She tried to speak up, but the words were caught by his hands and only a gargle made it through.

"I can't fucking hear you, whore!" he responded.

This time she yelled an audible, "Yes master!"

He smiled and loosened his grip, took his hand from her now passive legs, and held on to her shoulders to better control his slow pacing strokes.

Ariel's soft moans started to transform into softer whimpers for more. "Master, please, make me your whore, make it hurt, fuck me!" she begged him between pants.

This time he obliged her request, he was through toying with her anyway. Thomas sat back onto his legs and pulled her up to him, and when he tugged her shirt up she instantly raised her arms in acceptance as he flipped it off. Ariel reached back, unhooked her bra for him and removed it herself as she stared at him while biting her lip.

He gripped her jaw and spoke staring back, "If a whore is what you want to be, we'll make you one," and slammed his hand across her face.

As she was recovering from the blow, he drove her down onto the full length of his cock and his ears were graced with harsh loud moan escaping her lips. He began to stroke her furiously, holding her steady as he drove his cock in full depth with each stroke. She nearly came from the instant mixture of pain and pleasure surging through her body, she could only express it in intense grunts and moans as he showed her insides no sign of letting up. Neither could hear the slaps of his hips meeting the cheeks of her ass over her noise or his heavy breaths. The sound from their bodies colliding didn't remain silent for long. Thomas threw her down back onto the floor with a resounding thud and choked her again as he continued to drive his full length into her. She stared up at him into his intense eyes as tried to take everything in; his ferocity, the pain of being rag-dolled around like a toy, the force from his organ filling her. He would slap her face and breasts hard without rhythm as he gazed down upon his slave, and she met each one with a shout drowned by his hand. When he saw her face turning blue, he finally loosened his grip, she gasped hard for air and exhaled it as a shriek.

"Is this what you like? Being my little fuck toy? A sex slave for me to use?" he barked.

"YES, fuck yes!" she screamed back.

It wasn't the response he was looking for; he slapped once and stopped his pumps.

"I don't appreciate that kind of language, you'll have to be punished for that..." then gripped her waist and flipped her onto her stomach. He reached for his paddle, grabbed her hair and pulled her up until her lower back met his abs. Thomas kept a soft voice as he spoke to her, "Now, I'm going to spank you with this, and each time I do, I want you to say 'I will not curse at my master', understand?"

"So you want to spank me, not paddle me?" she giggled, despite her shallow and labored breathing. He didn't respond, instead he shoved her down and ran the paddle down across her ass so that the sound resonated throughout the room, shortly followed by Ariel's squeal of pain. After a second or two without anything but cries from her, he ran it to her again.

"I didn't HEAR you, whore!" he said coolly.

"I WILL NOT CURSE AT MY MASTER!" she screamed. Four more times she felt the wood connect with her skin, and four more times she followed her master's instructions.

"Such a good girl," he said to her, and before she could respond, he gave her the reward of his cock slowly spreading her lips apart. He took hold of her arms and kept her body off the floor, pounding at her as he did before. The slams of his hips hitting her cheeks echoed the pain the paddle brought her, and his occasional spanks only escalated the feeling. She noticed his grunts getting louder and more frequent, she could feel him getting close. Despite the agonizing pain she threw her hips back to meet him, she needed her master to cum, and she craved it as praise for being a good slave to him. Without warning he pushed her off, and she quickly turned and sat up staring up into his eyes sitting inches from his cock. On instinct she took his member and stroked it fast until he threw his head back and came, grunting as his love spurted over her chest in gobs. Both were still, outside of their heaving chests, both trying their best to pump highly-needed oxygen into their exhausted bodies. He stared at her, and she back at him, no words that really needed to be said that their bodies weren't already saying.

Ariel tried answering first, "Um...tha-"

"I suppose we should clean you up, hmm?" her master interrupted.

Thomas reached down and offered his hand to her, for a moment she hesitated but took it nonetheless. He brought her up quickly in one motion, never taking his eyes off from hers. She blushed a bit when he unexpectedly kissed her hand before leading her out of the bedroom and into the bathroom across the hall. For a moment she worried about setting up the bath to please her master, before Thomas swiftly took her by the hips and lifted her onto the vanity. The cool porcelain was a welcome feeling to her still-aching and red cheeks, and she released a small sigh of relief as he searched around for the body wash.

"It's going to hurt when you get in you know..." he said while turning on the water.

"Huh, why?" she asked in confusion.

"Hot water doesn't exactly feel the best on bruises right after you got them." he said, pointing about her body.

She looked around her and was surprised to see a number already forming on her hips, neck, arms, and thighs, varying from black to red in color.

"Oh...those," she sighed while sliding down from the vanity.

He smiled at her before he spoke, "You know you like them, c'mon, ladies first," and he drew back the curtain for her to step into the shower. He followed suit and closed it behind him, and starred at her for a moment.

"The hell are you looking at?" she barked in confusion.

Not a few minutes earlier he felt angry at her, he had been fucking her like a toy and not a human, but now he had not a trace of it in his dimpled smile.

"A fallen angel, who took a lot of punishment on her way down to me," he said with a wink, "now, let's get her cleaned up."

She began to blush as he held her waist and pushed her back into the hot streams. She yelped and sprung away from the heat as it ran across her marks and bruises, into his chest.

"Sorry about that, probably too hot," he whispered and motioned behind her to turn the dial.

She made an attempt to toughen it out and nudged his hand from allowing him to turn it down, but when she backed into the stream again she squealed. This time he didn't bother to ask permission, and pulled her out to him until her chest was to his and out of the way of him turning down the heat.

"Stop trying to do too much right now, it'll take time to recover," he spoke.

"I'm fine..." was as much as she could respond before nearly falling as she bend over reaching for a washcloth. He quickly caught her and stood her back up, holding her close. Finally she gave in, and relaxed in his arms.

Slowly he reached for the body wash and lathered a large dab of it in his hands. To stay as gentle on her as possible, he decided to clean her without the scrubs or washcloth, to avoid pressing on her bruises. He started with her shoulders, then worked down to her arms and her sides, further to her hips and waist, and then back up to her neck. She stared with a half-smile as he worked, he could see her looking in the corner of his eyes as she followed his hands with his own.

"Turn around, Ariel," Thomas commanded her. She did so slowly until her back was to him. He lathered another handful of body wash, and started to clean again. From her upper back, down to her middle and lower, then back up to her shoulders, where he started a soft massage. At first, she tensed up, from earlier when he used them as handlebars, then eased base into him.

When she did, he became a bit more adventurous. Thomas' hands motioned around from her shoulders to her breasts, and he lathered them slowly, paying special attention to her nipples. Ariel softly moaned in response, resting her head against his chest as his hands traversed the landscape of her body. With one hand staying to play and massage her chest, he let the other reach farther down, to her wet lips below. As he teased around the area, her breath became more and more shallow, the more he lathered the lips in soap and teased at her clit, the sharper her inhales and exhales became. With little warning, he started to push her back forward under the flow of water to clean her off, and after a moment or two, he turned her around carefully, pushed her against the wall, and dropped down standing on the balls of his feet. In one motion, he spread her lips apart with his fingers and lapped at her love button with his tongue, taking giant, long, slow licks as he looked up at her. Ariel grabbed his head as she stared back down, and split her legs a bit to allow him access to do more.

As she did, Thomas pushed in a finger slowly inside, and made a "come hither" motion with it, pressing it against her g-spot with each stroke. Now her moans became more vocal, they echoed inside the shower and into his ears, they encouraged him to push her further to the edge. So he tasted her like a forbidden dessert, like he was starving and her orgasm was a feast a mile in front of him. He sucked on it her button, he fucked her with now two fingers, she was gripping his head and tugging at his hair demanding he not stop until he was full. She came loud, her organ contracted and relaxed in spasms around his fingers. With not much energy left, she had to brace herself against the wall and used his head to keep from collapsing. Her head was blank, the pleasure and sensations had taken over her thoughts. When the fog cleared, she thought for a moment she should get on her knees, and give her master a return on the feeling she just had, even if it would be an inexperienced taste in comparison.

Before she could follow through, he was already kissing up her body as he rose up next to her. And when was standing straight, he careful hold of both her legs as he lifted them up. He let go of her for a moment as she wrapped her legs around him for support, and he took hold of the shower head to redirect the flow of water to right between them, over both their bodies. When he had the position just right, he turned his hands back to their situation, one to hold her face still as he came in to kiss her, and the other to guide his cock inside her still in spasm pussy, inch by inch. She broke away from his kiss when he was down to the hilt, but stood strong and bit down on his neck, preparing for the incoming assault. She prepared without need; something was different, although he took no time pressing his full length inside, he wasn't rough at all. Instead, he took his time, handled her gently, and hadn't even begun to take strokes. Her master, who she was slave to just minute earlier, was calm.

He placed his hand back on her cheek, urging her to join his lips again, nearly begging, and when she did, he met her with a soft compassion he hadn't before. She hardly notice that he began to barely buck against her, more of a grind than a hard fuck. Each stroke pressed at her g-spot when at full depth, and the slow speed at which he stimulated her alone nearly drove her crazy with anticipation. Thomas showed not a single sign he would be aggressive, not one thrust was taken without care or concern for her own pleasure, not one kiss hungered to destroy or harm her. Part of her was in love with it, where earlier she loved being controlled, part of her now loved being loved. The attraction of the idea started to crescendo, the more she felt and desired his love and care, and the more she thought about it, the faster she began to build again. She broke from their eternally long kiss to gasp for air. He smiled, and she realized her feeling his love was getting him off too; his breath began to labor alongside hers, their chests both heaving a bit more, nearly synchronized with one another.

"That's right, cum for me, cum with me, I want to feel you with me, feel what I feel, I need it" he groaned in a whisper.

It set her off, her incoming climax set him off, they had created some impossible infinite chain of pleasure.

Without a word but what each other's picturesque glances gave and each other's moans could tell, they settled down off their combined orgasm slowly, until he stopped grinding and she stopped moving her hips with him. She couldn't remember making the decision to rotate and throw her hips around, he couldn't remember the words he just said that had prompted her to do so. For a while they were motionless besides their chests, pumping air into their tired bodies, and a stare into the other's eyes. She slide one leg from around him down to the shower floor, then the other, and he braced her when her legs bowed a bit. When she could stand on her own, he left her side to cut off the water, grab her a towel, and wrapped her body in it before tending to his own. She took his hand when he offered it, and he led them back to the bedroom, quietly. She blushed a bit when he began to look at the mess they made of the place, and more when she thought about the things she said to him earlier. He smiled when he saw her face but said nothing, instead he ventured out to look for some underwear and his pajama bottoms, dropped off his towel, then put them both on. Ariel was looking around for her own clothes but instead of having to get them, he interrupted her search by pulling open a drawer, taking a shirt of his out, and offering it to her.