Free Her Father, My Master: Enthralled by Mallorie Griffin Page A

he
would turn it completely off for an hour.  I was left to stew in my lust during
that time.
    And I tried everything I could to
get myself to come.  I clenched my eyes shut and tried to mentally force the
much-needed climax, but that didn't work.  I tried twisting my body against the
chains, I tried squeezing my legs together, but my bonds held me fast.  I was
completely helpless against the erotic torture my master was giving me.
    Finally, finally, after what
seemed like hours, he relented.  Or at least, I hoped he was relenting, as he
showed up in my bedroom once more.
    He strode across the room, and
cupped my limp chin in his hand, tsking.  “My poor pet – have you worn yourself
out?  Do you have anything left for your master?”
    I groaned wordlessly and shook the
chains at him.  He had to let me come.  “Please,” I managed to whisper.
    He chuckled.  “Please?  Please
what?  Untie you?  Or do... this?”  With that word, he drove the power in the
egg all the way up again, and pummeled my tortured walls.  I groaned and leaned
heavily against the chains.
    “Please let me come,” I begged.  My
body pulsed, it throbbed and ached for him.  I needed him.  I needed him inside
me.
    “Ahhh, I see,” he said with a
slight smile.  I knew that he knew what I wanted all along.  He was feigning
ignorance to tease me, to torture me even more.  And it was working.  I moaned
even louder, twisting against the chains, the leather chafing my skin as that
egg inside me drove me to a frenzy.  There was nothing on my mind but my
master.  I needed him filling me. I needed him fucking me.  I needed his cock.
    But my master decided that my
torture hadn't lasted long enough, not even now.  With the egg still thrumming
inside me, he grabbed me, and pulled me close to him.  The chains rattled and
strained in protest, but neither of us cared.
    “I wonder just how much you can
take,” he said, and dipped his head to kiss me.
    I returned the kiss with a
desperation that I hadn't felt in weeks, not since the last time he denied me
my orgasm.  I hungrily kissed him, my tongue groping and poking its way inside
his mouth.  He gripped me firmly, his hands brushing up and down my sides as he
let me be aggressive, for once.  And then he pushed me away.
    I moaned with frustration, at
first, but he pressed towards me again, but not to kiss me.  Now, he nibbled
and bit ruthlessly at my neck, my shoulder, a collar bone.  Each bite was like
an explosion on my skin.  The tiny lances of pain went straight to my brain,
and sent me into even more of a frenzy.
    He cupped and squeezed my breasts,
and then bit down harshly on one of my nipples.  It was too much.  I screamed
and thrashed against my bonds as my climax mounted ever higher.  I was so
close, so close, and I just needed a little bit more to make me come, and give
me the release I so longed for.
    But my master would not give it to
me.  Instead of biting harder, he only laughed, and moved lower on my body,
using a more tender touch.  I wanted him to beat me bloody, but he was not
going to give that to me.  I had to be patient.
    He chuckled as he touched me now,
his hands tracing lines down my belly and thighs, and I knew why.  I was tense
as a bowstring, my entire body taut and straining against the restrictive
chains.  I needed him, but he wouldn't give himself to me, not yet.  That
wasn't for me to decide – it was for him.
    Now, he cupped my pubic mound in a
hand.  Now, the real torture would begin.
    “Silence,” he said harshly, and
then dipped his head down, down between my folds.  It was an impossible effort
to keep silent at his invading tongue, running up and down the drenched folds
of my pussy, but somehow I did it.  Somehow, the only sound that emerged from
my throat was a ragged breathing as he brought me higher and higher, closer and
closer to my climax...
    Only to pull away and withdraw,
before I could reach that sweet release.  I wanted