Reclaiming An Anal *****

The day was extremely hot. Bushfires raged in the state. I lounged in the hotel room, sipping New Zealand sav blanc and reading a novel. The hotel was four and a half star, courtesy of a last minute mystery deal online and, happily, was the same hotel that Master and I last met in, once again by virtue of a mystery deal. I had checked in early and was dressed in a navy cotton dress reminiscent of the 1950s, as was Master’s preference. As the afternoon drew on, I found myself quickly becoming pickled, having a belly empty of food, and a slowly simmering anxiety about whether Master would be prevented from attending due to nature’s hot wrath or some other unforseen event. It had been six months since Master had physically taken me and I was desperate for Him to reclaim me in the unequivocal way that was His style.

Master finally arrived, albeit somewhat late. He opened a beer and sank into a chair to relax: His day had obviously required much of His energy. I sat at his feet, as I usually did, and Master explained His intentions for the evening; he would be leaving later that evening and taking my hotel room key. I would not obviously be able to leave the room and He planned to return in the early morning hours to continue reclaiming His *****.

As I sat at His feet and stroked his legs, Master looked on at me smiling. I asked him what He was thinking. Master said He was thinking how much He enjoyed me and that I was exactly as He wanted. I felt a surge of happiness. The days of the rollercoaster training period seemed long gone. I felt settled and content. I understood what Master wanted and expected of me and believed that I could now be that submissive for Him.

I climbed up onto Master’s lap and burrowed my face into His neck to inhale His scent. Master picked me up and tossed me back onto the bed, told me to spread my legs as He rapidly removed His clothes. He pulled my white panties down to my ankles and hoisted my legs up, feeding His **** into my **** which I understood was merely to create the lubrication necessary for Him to reclaim my asscunt. Before long, I felt the longed for stretching of my sphincter as Master fed his **** into my back passage; the delicious intake of breath and the tightness adjusting to His thickness and length, and then finally I was impaled completely on my Owner’s meat and subject to the rhythmic pounding as He reasserted His rights to my body.

Master took my asscunt in a variety of ways and in moments of respite I would take Master’s **** in my mouth and suck it clean of my juices. Then Master sat in the chair with a beer and I sat at His feet, stroking His ****, periodically licking and sucking it.

Master returned to my room in the early hours of the morning. I watched as He removed His clothes and slid into the bed with me. Before long His tongue was in my mouth and His **** was back in my asscunt. He turned me onto my stomach and buried His **** deep into my rectum and ****** me relentlessly, pulling ****** after ****** from my body until there was no more fluids available for expulsion and my body could only shudder. Master’s large form lay over me, His gruff tones in my ear and my **** gushing continuously, forcing my desperate request for a moment to regain my breath such was the intensity of the experience.

I have always thrilled at Master’s potential for aggression, how the animal instinct in Him bubbles beneath the surface. At one point, I egged Him on, provoked and invited the beast in Him as He loomed bodily above me. I watched as His face transformed and Master entered what I refer to as the Primal Zone where the object is possession and conquest; His hard **** became a battering ram and my asscunt was to be beaten and abused into submission. My arousal reached a peak.

Master took my asscunt repeatedly through the early hours of the morning. After each brief respite, He would gently force His way through my swollen and abused sphincter. The pain was intense. But I breathed my way through it and knew that once in, with Master’s gentle pistoning, my asscunt would self-lubricate again and it would be painless and pleasurable as I loved it and as Master described it: “Just like a ****”.

As sleepiness conflicted with desire, I lay on my side next to Master, whose **** gently slid completely in and out of my asscunt. Periodically, I lift it up and feed the **** back into my hole, or push backwards on Master’s **** to feel it deeper inside me. The intimacy and eroticism of the moment worked strongly on me and my **** dripped and ached for more of His **** in me.

Master’s control is legendary. He does not *** until He has finished reclaiming His *****. It was nearing time when He would have to go. My asscunt had experienced heavy use over hours. Master had me suck His **** and wanted to leave His seed in my asscunt. However, to penetrate the swollen entry would take time and so, against His preferences, my Owner ****** my **** before spraying his seed all over me, marking and scenting me as His own.

There was never any need for confirmation, but it was plain for both Master and myself that being ****** in my **** is completely unnecessary when my asscunt is much more responsive to a *******. In the wake of this reclaiming, my Owner has decreed that I am forever after an anal *****. I will be punished if my **** is used by another man. We both find the idea arousing. Perversely it has led to the identification of the potential for abuse: ****** by a man on Master’s instruction, who I am not permitted to deny anything, begging to have use my asscunt, and suffering use of my **** with the knowledge of my inevitable punishment. That this scenario arouses Master will no doubt result in His orchestration of this scenario, so that my punishment is guaranteed. I cannot wait.
lipspomegranate lipspomegranate
41-45, F
3 Responses Jan 16, 2013

Well, you obviously know which hole women have to offer to really submit...

Great story!

very nice