daddyslittlebunny:wokeninvain:He was standing in the bathroom doorway watching as she applied he
daddyslittlebunny: wokeninvain: He was standing in the bathroom doorway watching as she applied her mascara, His head cocked, admiring her figure in the dress, gazing at her cleavage as she leaned over the sink, drinking in the smell of her in the still-damp air after her shower. The party would be starting soon and He was eager to show her off, to have others see how she looked, how she moved, how she looked at Him. She kept casting sidelong glances as she blinked against the mascara, shifting nervously. “What is wrong, girl?” He asked. “Oh, Sir, I… I don’t know I feel like I can go tonight.” His brow furrowed in concern. “Why not, kitten? Are you not well?“ "Oh, Sir,” she sighed, I just… I just don’t feel… I don’t feel worthy of You tonight. I don’t feel like I deserve to be with You at the party.“ She set down the mascara and picked up her lipstick, looking down at it forlornly. "Why on earth would you say that? You are magnificent, you are My girl, you are My treasure, you are the delicious fucktoy other men crave. Why on earth are you not worthy of Me?” He shoulders slumped and she played with the lipstick absently, then removed the cap. “Oh Sir, I… I don’t feel beautiful tonight, I don’t feel sexy, I feel unlovely and boring and sad and worthless.“ She raised the lipstick to her mouth, but His hand snapped out to grab her wrist tightly and she gasped. "Worthless? Do you doubt My word? My judgment? My love? My pride?” She gasped and her eyes went wide, then she struggled weakly against His grasp. “Oh, no, no Sir, I just…" “Worthless? Unlovely? Do you think you could possibly be either? Do you think even I could make you these? ” He stepped in close to her, twisting her arm behind her back. She dropped the lipstick and it rolled across the tile with a clatter. “Do you think you really could feel these ways?“ "Sir,” she whimpered, “I do feel these ways.“ "No, girl, no you don’t, I will show you.” He stepped behind her and spun her to face the mirror again, one hand still on her wrist, the other gripping her hair and forcing her down to bend, looking into the glass. “Look at that face, whore.“ He spat the word and His eyes flashed. “Look at that face. Were you painting it? Does it make you beautiful?” He reached His hand out and speared her makeup. “Look at this dress, does it make you beautiful?“ He released her hair and yanked downward on the dress, snapping the straps and pulling it roughly down, letting it fall away to the floor. “Look at these panties? Do they make you beautiful?” He released her wrist and she gasped again, then yanked the panties to the floor. “Step out of those rags, whore, are you worthy of them?“ She was trembling under the assault, the nearness of Him, His strength and His voice, the smell of His cologne and His body were flooding her. She stepped gingerly out of the torn dress and the panties. He kicked them aside with His foot and gripped her hair again, forcing her face back down to the counter. "You think you aren’t beautiful? You think you aren’t worthy? I say you are these things. But if you want to be treated as a worthless whore, I will.” Again the word whore was like a blow, a slap across the face. He had used it before, but always before in a loving, admiring way. “Kneel, kneel on the fucking floor.” His hand pulled back on her hair and the other slapped down hard on her ass, the sharp retort of the flesh on flesh resounding in the small room. She knelt, slowly. “Turn and face me,“ He barked, again pulling on her hair. Awkwardly she turned in place, His hand still pulling. She looked up at Him, wincing at the look on His face. He was not angry, He was grim. His mouth was set, eyes flinty. "Unzip My fly,” He said. Haltingly, she reached up and took hold of His zipper, then tugged it downwards. She could see and feel His hard cock, and when the fly opened she could smell a hint of His excitement. She reached one hand into His pants. He struck her across the face, hard, and she drew sudden breath. “No, I didn’t tell you to touch Me, do you touch Me without permission?“ "N…no, Sir, I don’t touch You without permission.” His commanding strength had created a tingle in her pussy, and she could feel the spreading dampness from her reaction, but His coldness also alarmed her, and the slap had shocked her. One tear trickled down her cheek. “Then sit there and stare at it, girl, think about not being worthy of My cock. Think of not deserving what I give you.” His hand in her hair tightened, pulling her until her nose was millimeters from the tip of His manhood. The tile of the floor was digging into her knees, and the room was cooling finally after her shower, raising her nipples. She could see the dampness from His pre-cum suffusing the fibers of His dark boxers, and her nose could detect the green grass smell of it. Involuntarily, she licked her lips. After what felt like hours, He pushed her head back and leaned toward her. “I want My cock sucked, even though apparently you aren’t worthy of it. I’m going to fuck your face, and you are going to do as I say. Is that perfectly clear, filthy slut?“ She nodded slightly, the roots of her hair stinging against His grip. “Good, don’t forget who you are,” He said, and slapped her again, harder than the last time. Another tear trickled down her cheek, and she shifted her knees on the tile. He released her hair and unbuckled His belt, then lowered His pants and boxers to the floor. His cock sprang up, glistening at the tip and bobbing in front of her. She looked at it, mesmerized as always by the sight, and her mouth watered. With a grunt, He took two handfuls of her hair and pulled her towards Himself. “Open. Your fucking. Mouth.” He said, His voice low and cold in the room. With a glance upwards, she opened her mouth, and with a surge He shoved His entire length into her mouth and throat, pulling her roughly onto him. She choked and gasped and blinked her eyes at the unexpected intrusion. Again He grunted and began rhythmically driving His cock into her face. He was like a wild beast, ungentle and unthinking. He grunted and groaned and growled as He fucked her face, and she tried to put her hands against His thighs to cushion the blows of His bent knees striking her breasts and her chest, but He battered through her hands so strong were His thrusts. She choked and mumbled and sobbed, and the tears started to come freely. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, what to do with her tongue, what to do with her teeth. Again and again He drove into her, His testicles slapping against her chin. He was muttering now, calling her whore, fuckmeat, pussyface, worthless slut, cumbucket, cocktoy — the list went on and on. She finally put her hands behind her back and leaned into him as He filled her, and her tears and sobs mingled with moans and coos as she surrendered to the rhythm of it. Furiously He gripped her hair and groaned again, then spoke. “I am going to cum in your fucking mouth, don’t you dare swallow it, fuckmeat,“ He barked. He released one hand and pulled His cock from her mouth, His other hand going to begin stroking His meat furiously. She moaned in disappointment, briefly, then licked her lips and opened her mouth, glancing upwards at His face. His head was thrown back, mouth open, eyes rolled behind His eyelids slightly as He concentrated, then with a shout and a roar, He bucked His hips, pulled her hair, and came, jets of hot, fresh cum shooting into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat, her tongue, her tonsils. She rolled her tongue to collect the warm fluid in her mouth. He groaned loud and long, the last few jets of His cum hitting her chin as the pressure abated. He shook His cock and a few last drops spattered on her face and breasts. He leaned over her, spent, His breath heaving and a drop of saliva falling on her leg. His hoarse gasps slowed as she knelt, a mouthful of cum causing her to salivate, herself. "Stand up, girl.” He said, His hand pulling less strongly on her hair and then releasing, unconsciously reaching out to pull her up. She took His hand and stood, unsteady on her aching knees, her lips pursed to hold in His seed. He turned her to face the mirror. Her hair was disheveled and matted, her blush was smeared, her necklace backwards and twisted, and her mascara had run with tears and sweat. Breath still heaving, He gripped the back of her neck and met her eyes in the mirror. He held His hand out below her mouth. “Spit it out, girl.” She leaned forward slightly and released the flow into His cupped palm. He leaned in, His breath hot and harsh in her ear. “Worthless and unlovely?“ He asked. He raised His hand and smeared the mix of cum and spit across her face, smearing the mascara and blush into a black and pearlescent mask. She could smell it on His palm as He rubbed it on her nose and felt the sticky, wet sensation as He rubbed it on her sweaty forehead. He glanced sideways at her in the mirror. His breath finally slowing. He whispered, now. “Look at yourself. You are beautiful, you are submissive, you are covered in My cum, I tore your dress, I forced you to kneel, I fucked your face like a cunt. You are covered in me and in you and in Max fucking Factor. You did as you were bidden, you did as you must. And no matter what I did, how I used you, you are beautiful, you are worthy, For you are Mine, and you are you. Never have I seen you more beautiful than right now, never have you been more worthy. And never have you been less, for you are Mine, and you are you.” Her lower lip trembled, and a new trickle of tear traced a path through the smudged mess on her skin. “Repeat it, My love, you are beautiful, you are worthy, you are Mine, and you are you.” Her voice halting, she spoke, repeating His words, melting into the circle of His arm. *-* whoa -- source link
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