She tried to make no outward sign of hope or craving—or worse, impatience—but part of her ached to throw herself at his feet and beg him to take her. She loved her Master's cock. She loved his hands on her, his mouth and his teeth and his thick shaft parting her and thrusting inside. Her service to him prevented her giving in to those impulses. She had long ago learned to hold her desires and wants silent like a secret in her heart, and wait to hear what he wanted. She lived to fulfill his needs. His collar was the reminder of her status and her purpose. At times like these, when she worked hard to control herself, she focused on the rigid caress of the metal band around her neck and found that submission came easier to her. I am his. If he wants me, he will take me. He is my Master, and I am his slave. I will wait.
At last, her patience was answered. He drew back from the table, grasped the chain between her breasts, and pulled her behind him to the bedroom.
* * * * *
He was rather tender with her, because he was leaving, she supposed. He pulled her close and caressed her as she undressed him with trembling fingers. I want...I want...I want... As hard as she tried, she still couldn't silence her wants and will completely. She had a feeling her Master didn't really wish her to. He took his time, having already climaxed in her mouth just before dinner. He toyed with her, stroking and fondling her in silence as she stood attentive before him in just the posture he liked. He took off her clamps, which he never left on too long for fear of injuring her sensitive tissue. She held her breath and shuddered as the intense rush of blood flooded her nipples. He smiled knowingly at her. She understood that her suffering gave him pleasure, and that this involved no malice or menace on his part. It was simply the type of play that excited him.
He wanted more such play, which Molly expected. He made her bend over the curved oak footboard and cuffed her hands at the small of her back. He got the whip he favored, a short black implement that hurt terribly, like stripes of fire, and left pretty welts. He held the cuffs hard so she couldn't squirm or escape him. She still often tried to get away, to her shame. Master told her he didn't mind it, that he liked when she tried to evade him, because it showed that she didn't enjoy what he did to her. Molly still wished she could be still and stoic just to show how much she wanted to please him, and how much pain she was willing to take to make him glad. In her heart she was willing to take any pain for her Master. But in reality, the whip made her mind go blank and her body start to panic.
She buried her face in the bedding as the first blow fell, and another and another, hot, aching fire that made a helpless keening rise in her chest. Another blow, even harder. Her legs collapsed and he caught her with a whistling crack inside the thigh as a warning. She straightened her legs again, sobbing and snuffling, offering her ass for more punishment. Again and again the whip fell across her hindquarters. She cried at each fresh blooming of pain, her hands struggling against him where he held the cuffs tight. No....no...please Master!
She thought the words over and over in her head, although she didn't say them out loud. To have done so would have been pointless. She jerked and sobbed as two more strokes fell. Her ass cheeks clenched and she tried in vain to twist away. And then...reprieve. She lay still, shuddering and tense, her ass cheeks aflame. Master put the whip back in its place on the nightstand and delivered a series of stinging slaps to her welted and punished bottom. She was so relieved he was done with the whip that the blows barely registered. She pressed her hips against the edge of the hard footboard, squeezing her legs together to try to assuage the growing ache in her clit.
Her Master tsked and spanked her again so she yelped and desisted. "Stand up, girl."
She stood and faced him, her face wet with tears. He ran his thumbs across her damp cheeks and gave her an assessing look. "Master Mephisto will not let your hungry little pussy rule him anymore than I do, you know."
She felt ashamed. She had no control over her libido sometimes, a fact that both amused and exasperated her Master.
"I'm...I'm sorry—"
Her voice cut off as he took her chin hard in his hands.
"I am afraid this is another area where I'm entirely too soft on you. You shouldn't be allowed any relief after that kind of brazen display, but I'm quite certain I won't be able to leave you without seeing you coming in that charming way you have. But know this—Mephisto is not so indulgent in this area. I have told him he should not be so with you. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Master."
"This is one area where I would like to see you learn a little more control. Good slaves should not try to pleasure themselves against the headboard unless Master commands it. Isn't that true?"