2 Home

[jo****]

As they arrived home from their walk, the anticipation hung in the air like an electric charge. The front door clicked shut behind them. Sire did not lock it, she noticed. They stood in the hall, locked in a passionate gaze. Sire’s eyes bore into hers, and she could feel the intensity of his desire. she knew he was eager to fulfill the promises made during their stroll in the park.
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Sire took a step closer to his sweet girl, and with a gentle yet firm touch, he started to undress her. Slowly, he unbuttoned her blouse, revealing her delicious tits. His fingers traced the outline of her collarbone, sending shivers down her spine. His lips met hers in a deep, hungry kiss, conveying his longing and dominance.
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her items of clothing fell to the floor, one piece at a time, leaving her standing there, exposed and ***. she shivered in the cool air, and Sire noticed.
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“Go fix me a whiskey, just the way I Iike it”, he commanded her firmly.
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A task! An opportunity to please, serve and be of value to her Sire. her heart fluttered with delight. her pulse raised.“Yes, Sire, right away Sire”, she uttered, and off she went excitedly on her hands and knees like a good little pet should. When she got to the trolley, she ran her finger over the labels of the bottles, not a single one was below the age statement of 18. she smiled to herself softly and thought “exactly the same way Sire likes his girls”. her eyes caught sight of a dark maroon label. A 23 year old Scotch, travelers edition, matured in sherry casks from a boutique Portuguese wineyard. she mulled her age in relation to it.
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she uncorked it. That distinct pop triggered a similar reaction in her head. her mind fell into slave space. Sire had trained her well over months. her mind immediately wandered to Sire’s cock and she wondered if she would have the pleasure to please it today. she had been practising so hard on her dildo as Sire had taught her to. Three types of blow jobs techniques and combining them into one. But as of late she had been a foolish girl. she was not in Sire’s good books and has nearly been replaced.
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she poured in the standard two shots and then a dash more to express her love for her Sire. she did not crawl this time, but walked back on her toes, the drink held in both hands, to offer it to her Sire.
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she found Sire sitting on his arm chair. No room for her there. she knelt down, in her Position 1. her place, so familiar and comfortable. she was home at her Sire’s feet. she raised the glass with both hands, head level, eyes lowered in subservience. her tongue and lips parted as she caught sight of her Sire’s shoes. she offered the drink, her silent tribute, with the seductive gesture and poise of a well trained slutty slave. her entire being was there at Sire’s will.
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her Sire took the glass. His touch warm. The parting of the glass filled her with loss. Could she not bring it to her Sire’s lips, she questioned and wished. her Sire, held, lifted and kissed her right hand and gestured her to lower her face to his well polished but aged leather shoes. her Sire did not utter a word as he took the first satisfactory sip of his whiskey.
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she nuzzled her nose and rubbed her cheeks on Sire’s shoes. her nostrils and lungs inhaled the scent deeply. It *** her. her lips parted automatically. her salivating tongue protruded and she started to lick; gracefully and gratefully. With love she proceeded. her pussy already way past being moist and ready, waiting for however Sire decided to use her.
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she heard her Sire take a second sip. A swirl and a slow gulp. she knew he was pleased with her selection.
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And there she was, shameless, on the floor where she belonged, her pussy now starting to drip. Contentment filled her. she was appreciative of the opportunity to fulfill her purpose.
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As she wondered if Sire has something special prepared for her, she heard a knock on the door. Sire, did not skip a beat. He never did. “It’s open. Come in.”

—-//

Without a word, he led her to the bedroom, where he had prepared for their private, intimate session. The room was dimly lit, candles flickering on the nightstands, casting sensuous shadows on the walls.

Sir guided her to the edge of the bed and instructed her to kneel. Her hands rested on her thighs, palms up, a gesture of submission. He walked around her, taking in the sight of his sweet girl, naked and obedient. The sight of her desire, the flush on her skin, was intoxicating.

With deliberate slowness, he undressed, allowing her to watch him with rapt attention. His body was strong and confident, the embodiment of masculine power. She longed to touch him, but she knew better than to move without his permission.

Sir approached her, his fingers gently tilting her chin upward, so she met his gaze. "You've been such a good girl, my love," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "Now, it's time for me to take care of you."

He guided her to lie on her back on the bed, her wrists secured with soft, silk restraints to the bedposts. Her heart raced with anticipation. The silk against her skin was a tantalizing reminder of her vulnerability and surrender.

Sir's hands began to explore her body, trailing kisses and nibbles along her neck, collarbone, and breasts. Each touch sent waves of pleasure through her, making her arch her back in silent invitation. He took his time, savoring her responses, knowing just where to touch, kiss, and tease to drive her wild.

With the skill of a true master, he brought her to the brink of ecstasy, then slowed his movements, maintaining control over her pleasure. She writhed beneath him, her hips moving in time with his expert ministrations, but she couldn't find release without his permission.

He whispered in her ear, "Beg for it, sweet girl. Tell me how badly you want to come."

She moaned, her voice trembling with need. "Please, Sir, I need it. I need to come. I need you."

Sir smiled, a wicked glint in his eyes. "That's my good girl."

He increased the intensity of his touch, pushing her over the edge with a shuddering climax. She cried out his name, her body trembling in ecstasy as waves of pleasure washed over her.

Afterwards, as they lay entwined, Sir kissed her forehead with tenderness. "You're mine, sweet girl," he whispered. "All mine."

And in that moment, as they basked in the afterglow of their passion, their connection was stronger than ever, a testament to the trust, love, and intimacy that defined their unique relationship.

[adrenalina75]

All mine 🥵