With each resonant tick of the antique carriage clock resting on the polished teak dresser, Moriko felt her anxiety rise. While her delicate hands were steady on the steamer pressing Sir’s white linen shirt, her ebony almond eyes continuously flickered toward her reflection in the surrounding floor to ceiling mirrors.

The imported black silk maid’s outfit she wore contrasted her porcelain skin and hugged her lithe, petite figure like a second skin, the short skirt revealing the tantalizing naked globes of her taut ass. Her firm breasts strained at the deep cleavage, the peaks of her rigid nipples clearly visible.

The package had arrived from France only that morning, and with lowered eyes, Moriko had waited naked on her knees while Sir unwrapped the custom-made outfit. In gratitude, she had crawled toward her master, unzipped his pants, and withdrew his rigid, heavily veined cock. It quivered hungrily in her hands, a pearl of pre-cum gleaming at the tip. Sir had clutched the gleaming length of her inky black hair and twisted it in his strong hands while she lapped at the droplet like a kitten licking cream before swallowing his meaty girth.

Moriko’s head furiously bobbed as she sucked Sir’s thrusting cock, and with each jerky movement, her platinum shackled-heart pendant slapped between her jiggling breasts. She felt the initial jerk of Sir’s cock a moment before he explosively released …

Suddenly, Moriko’s half-closed eyes fixed on the uneven black lace edge of her fishnet stockings. Her heart skipped a beat, instantly banishing the erotic recollection, and she stepped toward the mirrored wall frantically adjusting the stockings so that they would evenly grip her milky thighs. She took care that her red lacquered nails didn’t snag the delicate lace, for she knew Sir would be most displeased.

The hiss of steam preceded the soft cadence of footsteps. Moriko gasped and turned to meet Sir’s dark, riveting eyes fixed on his shirt still in the steamer. Flushed and sweating, he had returned early from his morning ride, and still wore his boots. Moriko’s eyes instantly dropped, but the cadence of the riding crop gently smacking against his palm echoed like gunshots.

Feeling the heat of Sir’s gaze, Moriko scrambled to remove the shirt from the steamer, but her fumbling hands dropped it to the floor. She groveled to retrieve it.

“Forgive me, Sir,” she said in a voice as delicate as a wind chime. “It won’t happen again.”

The sharp report of the riding crop halted, and at any moment, Moriko expected to feel the biting sting of the crop across the tender flesh of her prone ass.

Her heart a drumbeat in her chest, Moriko felt herself get wet as she waited breathlessly for Sir’s response. Promptly positioning herself on all fours, she spread her thighs to expose the shaved, pearly smooth flesh of her swelling pussy. She heard Sir’s heightened breathing and closed her eyes in anticipation …

“I have another gift,” he said in his commanding baritone voice. “But now it will be your punishment.”

Moriko’s breath quickened even more as Sir moved toward the cabinet. It softly clicked open, the contents a mystery to her. Apart from polishing the teak exterior, she had been forbidden to open it, and now her imagination worked feverishly. She heard the rustle of tissue paper followed by the gentle click of the closing cabinet doors.

Footsteps approached. Moriko thought she would faint from anticipation. Each punishment was different depending on the transgression, and she would never know what to expect. Though tempted to glance up at the mirrors, if Sir caught her disobedient gaze, she would suffer an even more severe punishment.

And then she felt the gentle slap of something soft and pliable against her ass. She flinched from the unexpected contact, but then when the object slowly toyed with the short skirt of her outfit before trailing down her gaping ass crack, Moriko recognized the pliant shape of a Wild G-Spot vibrator.

The tip paused to tease her puffy, wet lips and probe the opening of her twitching hole. Her thighs trembled, and she felt liquid heat ooze from her pussy.

“Get on your back,” Sir commanded, slapping her ass with the vibrator.

Moriko gasped and rolled onto her back. Raising her thighs high over her shoulders, her gaze was riveted by the shocking pink jelly vibrator poised in Sir’s hand. Pliant yet firm, the curved tip and rabbit-eared protrusion hinted at details Sir was fanatical about. While his collection of unique toys was vast, no two were alike.

Glaring down at her with intense Byronesque features, Sir knelt between her raised legs. He paused to gaze at her engorged pussy lips and the tight ring of her asshole.

“Open yourself!” he ordered.

Moriko’s fingers felt warm wetness as she spread her lips like the blooming petals of an exotic flower.

Sir bent to sniff her musk, his tongue emerging as if to probe her. Suddenly, he switched on the vibrator at maximum speed and impaled Moriko. She squealed and writhed at the unexpected intensity of the penetration. Compounded by the powerful vibration against her G-spot and the circular motion against her tender clit, the delicious pressure was made almost unbearable by Sir’s relentless thrusting.
“I beg your forgiveness, Sir!” Moriko gasped.

“Then you will have to beg harder,” Sir replied, twisting the vibrator’s handle as he plunged it deeper inside her.

Moriko felt the burgeoning spasms of an orgasm explode from her core until her panting screams echoed around the dressing room. Her body shuddered and jerked, and a jet of hot, sticky fluid gushed from her pussy as Sir yanked out the vibrator and slipped it into her gaping asshole. Working the juice-slicked vibrator deep inside Moriko, he watched, impervious to the frantic scratching of her nails against the floor.

“I beg your forgiveness, Sir!” she cried.

Looking into Moriko’s glazed eyes, Sir finally smiled. “Very well, my lovely slave,” he said. “Now you may ride me.”

About The Author

Diana Kemp

An accomplished freelancer, Diana Kemp wears many creative hats, including creative writer, author and screenwriter. Her considerable repertoire of short stories, novellas, novels and short and feature screenplays earned 130 competition awards and placings. She writes for adult and young adult markets, as well as edits, proofreads and ghostwrites.

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