Fragile Unbroken Ch. 08

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Fragile Unbroken Ch. 08


This conversation was spontaneity at its best, with a twist. I was nude and kneeling on the dais like, pillow covered corner of our home’s great room which we call my perch. We had just enjoyed a brilliant breakfast of sweet country ham and the lightest scrambled eggs on earth. Master sat across from me on a couch and we talked. He had a plan of some sort, I could tell by how he acted, but he hadn’t told me what it was.

Master walked over to me and asked, “What do you want girl?” completely out of the blue.

I think I blinked about five times rapidly as I tried to process the question. I failed to answer.

“What do you want?” It came again.

I didn’t know where this was going, but I do know my role. “I want your happiness, Master.” I smiled up at him.

He didn’t smile back. “What do you want from this life?”

I wanted him to smile. “Master? To always please you.”

“Is that all?”

I thought carefully. “No Master.”

“What then?”

I want the world to know you are pleased.”

“What do you mean?”

“Master, you are my world.” I thought I was being clever.

“Then you want nothing more out of life?”

I realized he was dead serious, but probably a little too late. I didn’t answer quickly, but he was patient for the moment. “Well Master, in ways I do, but the more I learn about you, the more I realize that I see no greater value for myself than to give you all that I am. I never knew I could be so happy. Being owned by you is fulfilling every dream I’ve ever had.”

“So you do it out of selfishness?” His voice was stern.

I realized he was correct, and a part of me has always known that I am his, mainly because I want to be.” I dropped my eyes to the floor. The blunt force of that truth hurt. “Yes Master.” What else could I say? I felt tears coming on.

“Submit yourself.” he said, and I did, putting my eyes to his feet and raising my palms up to him in my most humble demonstration.

He continued. “Stephanie,” I froze. My name usually meant I had seriously displeased him, and with this conversation going the way it was, a small hint of fear ripped through me.

He was still speaking. I had to focus. “You are as honest as anyone I have ever met.” His tone had softened, but that could mean anything. “The truth is, I know that you love me and I know that everything you’ve said is absolutely true.”

He clipped my leash on me. He led me back, deeper into the corner of my perch, told me to stand, then took rope out of a nearby chest of drawers and slowly, methodically put cuffs on my wrists and ankles, then bound me to four iron rings that were attached to the walls by my perch. He pulled the ropes tight so that my arms were outstretched and my legs were spread wide. I was exposed, embarrassed that I had not pleased him and fear was coursing through my veins, not knowing what was wrong or how I had displeased him.

I prepared myself to be bound for a long time. I kept my eyes to the floor, not daring to look up.

Master laid nipple clamps on the floor in front of me. He laid his biggest vibrating butt plug, a device which has been sheer, pleasurable torture for me in the past. He laid a lash at my feet, (basically a handle with about ten million leather straps on it, designed for whipping and punishment.) He added a gag to the collection, a paddle, a blindfold and a pile of chains. He lay more rope down and then stood for a moment like he was thinking of what else he could use on me.

He laid The Pink One, a very large vibrating dildo next to the lash. He brought a big bottle of lubricant. Lastly he laid a riding crop down with the small group of implements. He was preparing to rip me out of my body and drag my soul to his feet. I tried not to react, but I started to shiver. I was exposed and vulnerable, half aroused by his bindings and the thought of these devices in use all over my body.

Looking down, I could see goose bumps on my pale white breasts, contrasting with wisps of my long, black hair which draped over them. My pink nipples were hard and alert, the pink areolae wrinkled. I leaned forward, relying on my ropes to prevent me toppling as I let my eyes follow fulya escort the contours of my bare, hairless form down to my feet, silently accessing myself out of habit to assure myself that I had presented myself to him as close to perfect as I could. Before leaning back my eyes passed over the bare line of my slit. The mere thought of his touch there increased my arousal and desire for him, the Master of all that my eyes were addressing. I pushed my legs a little wider apart, wanting to be more open, more vulnerable to his whims.

He closed the window blinds, which darken the room quite a bit even with bright sunlight shining on the windows. Additionally he then pulled the curtains, which make it extremely dark, especially until your eyes adjust. He lit a candle and put it on a holder near the rest of his devices at the edge of my perch. I couldn’t stop shivering. I was more self conscious than I had ever felt.

His voice broke the spell of fear and silence he had laid on the room.

“Are you happy, slave?”

“No Master.” I replied with as much voice as I could. I didn’t want my voice to crack. I didn’t want my emotion to be visible.

“Why are you unhappy, slave?”

Honesty. Honesty was my only recourse. “I feel like I have failed you, Master.”

“Look at me.”

He stood behind the candle, the only source of reliable light in the room. He was wearing dark blue jeans and a black polo shirt. The only image that stood out was his strong arms and his stern face. He was beautiful. Tears began to fall despite my every effort to hide my feelings.

“Close your eyes.” He said.

I did, and I held my breath, bracing for what, I had no idea. I could hear him moving in front of me but then it went quiet. I reached out with my hearing. I knew he was near. After a while I could hear him breathing. I turned my head to try and gauge his position.

“Do not move.” Came out of the silence.

I froze, but the shivering came back. I was failing and my fear only grew.

After what seemed like forever he spoke. “Open your eyes.” He said.

When I looked at him, he was speaking, but I barely heard the words at first. I was in a state of shock. I lost all sense of where I was. My knees went weak and I fell, the ropes and cuffs at my wrists holding me up. I struggled to my feet and strained against the ropes trying to free myself but they were unforgiving. I fought hard but I couldn’t get free.

Master was on one knee at the base of my perch. The candlelight caught on a glittering ring in his hand just above it. I realized what he was saying. “Stephanie, you are my slave, but I would also like you to be my wife.”

Tears burst from my eyes as I pulled against my ropes. I wanted my Master in my arms so badly. I didn’t even think to answer, I just wanted to be free.

Master went to my ropes where they were tied to iron rings on the walls. He had tied mere slip knots at the rings, but I had not noticed. With his pull on each tag end I was free and I jumped on him, wrapping my arms and legs around him. He held me up with his hands under my ass and we kissed. His next word reminded me to whom I belong.

“Well?” He said.

I wiped the tears from my cheeks with my hands and took a deep breath. My mind was going a million miles an hour as he let me to the floor of my perch where I stood a little taller than him.

I stepped back, took another deep breath to compose myself and knelt at his feet. Ropes and leash dangled from me. I spread my thighs as wide as I could. I raised my hands, palm up to him, I pressed my breast forward until my back hurt. I made myself the way I know he loves me best, submitted, exposed, and at his feet. I looked up into his eyes and I could see more emotion there than I’d ever seen in him before. I turned my eyes to his feet and answered him.

“Master, Jon, I am yours forever. I am your slave but nothing could make me happier than to be your wife.”

As I spoke, he took my left hand and placed his ring on my finger. It was like a dream.

I couldn’t hold it anymore. I started bawling my eyes out as happiness took over. He knelt in front of me and wrapped his arms around me. I let bebek escort myself sink into his embrace, warm and comfortable

We stayed there together, for how long I don’t know. I was overcome with joy and that joy was translating into wanting to please him. I pushed him onto the floor on his back and straddled his waist. He grabbed my leash and pulled me down for a long kiss that melted me. I draped my naked body over him. It was time to fuck my Master and until further notice that was my sole intent.

I grabbed at his shirt, pushing it up so that I could kiss his chest. I lingered there, kissing his nipples and rubbing my fingers through his soft hair before working my way, kissing down his hard stomach.

I tried my best to rip his pants open, but gave up and resorted to the old fashioned method of actually undoing them and stripping them over his bare feet. In my frustration, I think I did succeed in ripping a seam in his polo shirt as I stripped it from him.

He cooperated, letting me push him back down to the floor after removing each of my clothing distractions. His cock was thick and growing. From his side I took it in my hand, holding it up and wrapped my lips around the head, sucking softly, coaxing more blood into it. He grabbed my long, black hair and held it in a ponytail as I sucked him. I felt his other hand caressing my ass as his cock grew to a lovely statue of manhood. I pushed it down my throat, leaving a thick layer of saliva on it as I raised my head up and let his cock out of my mouth.

I threw my leg over him and guided his cock into my amply wet pussy and pushed downward onto him. He sunk deep inside me. It was not every day I got to ride my Master like this, and I made the best of it, sliding myself upward along his shaft until it nearly fell out, then pushing down, feeling him penetrate me and fill my insides. His cock touches my deep places perfectly, and today, every bit of him had touched my heart.

This man, loving, careful Master was going to have me for the rest of his life. I was going have him too. And as far as I was concerned, I never wanted to be anything more than his fucktoy.

He loves it when I talk to him during our encounters, and I wanted to feel his warm cum inside me. I leaned over, pressing my tits against his chest. My hair fell over his face. I brushed it away and as I put my mouth to his ear. “Master, this is your fucktoy for life.” I pressed my pussy down on him, squeezing him with my muscles, milking his cock as I rocked my clit against his pubic bone. His cock felt huge.

“Your fucktoy is going to treat you like a King for life. Can you feel her hot pussy squeezing your big cock?” I squeezed it hard. He didn’t answer but his face said it all.

“This sweet, little pussy is yours Master. Every part of this fuckdoll is yours to play with.”

With hands on either side of him, I pushed myself up to look him in the eyes. “I love you Jon”

He reached up and took my breasts in his hands. “I love you, Stephanie.”

“Your slave loves her Master.” I repeated, reasserting my role. Reclaiming who I really wanted to be.

He pressed my nipples between his fingers. “And your Master loves his fucktoy.”

He smiled up at me and I began to grind into him, wanting to cum and feeling it building up deep in my gut. “Master…” The words came out without me even thinking about it. “Please, never stop fucking me.” It was getting closer. “Please, just own me forever.”

His hands moved from my breasts to my hips and he pulled me down hard as he lifted his hips and drove himself into me, not pulling out, just grinding the fuck out of my pussy. His cock was hitting that spot, inside me, the one spot that…

…It hit me.

My mind lost all desire to feel anything but this hot fucking orgasm as I spilled my juices over his balls. He began to pump his hips into me and I could hear my cum sloshing as he fucked me. I held my breath as long as I could until my voice exploded, screaming out my feelings in all their intensity.

He was still fucking me as my orgasm morphed into an intense desire to be owned and taken by this man.

I pushed myself up from him, crawling onto my florya escort hands and knees, laying down on the high step of my perch with a pillow under my hips. I pressed my ass upward into the air. “Master, own your slave. Make me feel it.”

He gripped my hips, holding me steady and plunged his cock back inside me. My wide open pussy was vulnerable and ready for him. I felt his pubes bang into my ass as I pushed myself back into him, his balls slapping between my legs. He fucked me with long strokes, pulling all the way out until I couldn’t feel his cock and then driving it all the way in again. Each thrust made me moan like a hooker who enjoys her job.

I felt him tensing up. He left his next thrust deep inside me, fucking me with short strokes that kept him pressed into my cervix. I felt another hot orgasm coming, and my pride over his strength and endurance was strong. Only Master had ever been so able to keep me cumming long before he did. I wanted to cum with him in celebration of our engagement.

I didn’t have long to wait. His short thrusts soon had his deep moans reverberating through the room. I knew he would cum soon, and my own was coming on strong. I reached down between my legs to rub my clit and bring it on faster. In moments I was flooding his dick with my juices again and I let out a long guttural scream. “Oh Master, cum with your fucktoy slave. Give me your cum Master. Fuck me.”

It was enough. He pulled my ass hard, dragging my whole orgasmic body backward against him as he pushed himself forward one last time and exploded his thick streams of cum into my pussy. I could feel his heat inside me. Together we released our sex into and onto each other. His continued pressure inside me kept me going for a good, long stretch, and as he slowed down, releasing his last drops into me, I finally relaxed in exhaustion onto my pillow. Master leaned forward and his body pressed over mine. I straightened my legs as he did, and he lay on top of me, holding his weight over me with his arms as his hips spasmed the last few drops of his cum inside me.

He rolled to the side, his cock, still thick and firm, withdrew from me. My relaxation ended. I wanted more of him. My very nature drew me to him as he drew another pillow from my perch and rested against it. I watched his cock slowly losing rigidity and I went to it, drawing it between my lips, tasting the mark of our love on his head before sucking as much as I could into my mouth as it slowly became limp. I let it lay against his belly, thick and flaccid while I licked every drop I could find of our cum from him. I, his slave, lover and some day to be wife, loved more than anything the chance to do this for him. To please him and leave him clean, absorbing his essence, and reabsorbing my own, enjoying it, feeding on it. My service to this man is and was my reason for being. Love, the rare gift, dwelled in our home, and he had gained my lasting loyalty long before this night.

When he was clean I took a soft blanket from my perch and drew it over his naked body, snuggling myself up next to him. I drew my long, black hair from behind my head and spread it out over his chest. I don’t even know why I did, but in the back of my mind it was like the last finishing touch of warmth in my desire to make his comfort perfect.

He played with my hair as he spoke to me. He said many things that had brought him to his decision to ask for my hand. I cannot repeat them here for fear of flattering myself, which I consider an unacceptable condition. What I can say is that he drew me into his understanding of what I meant to him and showed me that he loved me in a way that left me melting into him. It left me with a desire to be owned by him. It made me ache for his control. I needed nothing more than to feel his dominance.

The day progressed with him taking me in a new and unexpected way, fulfilling my every desire to know his strength and control, but that is another story.

We celebrated long into the night. I called Angela and told her the news. I think she may have permanently damaged my ear when she screamed into the phone with happiness.

And so, now I’ve told the happiest day of my life. At the time of publishing, this was a few weeks ago. Plans have progressed but much of those we have chosen to keep to ourselves, although, when the day comes I will be keeping mental notes of the details for anyone who might care to read them. Knowing Master, there will be a lust filled, kinky story to tell. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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