An Abused Slave-Girl
It
was 3 o’clock in the morning when the phone rang. Spencer
Clarke, the sleep still hanging heavily in his eyes, looked over at
the caller ID on his cell phone. “Slave”, it read.
Annoyed at being woken up at such an ungodly hour, but genuinely
curious about what the call was about, Spencer picked up the phone.
“ Hello?”
he asked.
“ Master…it’s
me. I’m so sorry to bother you, but I just couldn’t
sleep. I didn’t know what to do, so I called you. I’m
hope you’re not mad,” the young woman told him.
“ Of
course I’m fucking mad, it’s 3 o’clock in the
morning and you just woke me up,” said Spencer, the anger
becoming apparent in his voice.
“ I’m
sorry Sir, it’s just…”
“ Get
your ass over here right now,” he said, interrupting his slave
and hanging up the phone.
Spencer
set his phone down and stretched out his hands over his head. He was
genuinely angery at being woken up so early, but now that the
grogginess was starting to leave his head, he realized that he was
also looking forward to seeing his slave. Not that he would let her
know that. After quickly getting dressed, Spencer put on a pot of
coffee, went out to his living room and waited. Five minutes later,
there was a knock at his door.
“ It’s
you,” he said, swinging open the door.
His
slave stood in the doorway, looking at her shoes and saying nothing.
Tamara Eden was in her late 20s, and was a tiny thing. She stood just
over five feet tall and had a baby-face that was very pretty. Her
shoulder length, light brown hair was put up in a ponytail, and she
wore a simple, light blue sun dress even though the temperature had
dropped during the long, late summer night.
“ Get
in here, and don’t you dare look at me,” Spencer said,
turning around and walking back into his living room.
Tamara
was right on his heels, and as soon as the door closed behind her,
she dropped to her knees and put her hands behind her head. Spencer
saw what she was doing, but chose to ignore her, heading into the
kitchen and grabbing himself a cup of coffee. As soon as his bare
feet stepped on the cool tile floor, Spencer immediately knew what
Tamara’s punishment would be. After pouring himself a cup of
piping hot coffee, the still drowsy man reached into the freezer and
pulled out a handful of ice cubes. Placing them on a small tray,
Spencer went back into the living room.
Tamara
was right where he had left her, on her knees with her hands behind
her head, only now a look of nervous excitement was displayed on her
face.
“ You
know you’re in for some punishment for waking me up like this,
don’t you slave?” Spencer asked her.
“ Yes
Sir,” Tamara replied, not taking her eyes off of the floor.
“ Undress,”
the powerful man commanded.
Tamara
did as she was told as quickly as she could, standing up and slipping
off her mini-skirt, tank top, bra, and panties as quickly as she
could manage. Her beautiful body now stood exposed to her longtime
master. The nipples on her perky, B-cup breasts were already stiff
with excitement, and the young woman could already feel the wetness
between her legs. Noticing the look of desire in the young woman’s
face, Spencer knelt down and placed in strong hand against Tamara’s
swollen, shaved, pussy.
“ I
know this is what you would like right now,” he said, slowly
rubbing her exposed mound, “but you’re going to have to
earn it. As much as I love your little visits, you woke me up, and
for that you’re going to have to pay.”
With
those words, Spencer removed his hand, stood up, and grabbed his cup
of steaming hot coffee.
“ On
your hands and knees, bitch. Ass in the air,” he commanded.
Tamara
did as she was told, her heart beginning to race in anticipation of
the punishment to come. Spencer walked a slow circle around the young
woman, examining her in all of her beauty until he felt a stirring in
his loins. Dropping to his knees next to her, he gave