November 31
Rosetta was wearing a flimsy sarong and dancing. She had me sit in a chair. I hadn’t hurt clothes for a while. She wasn’t putting the show on expressly for me. She decided she’d like to dance and wanted an audience. It didn’t upset me. I was just happy that she had stayed around a few days. It had been nice. I didn’t feel so much like a slave. We ate breakfast together and I would bathe her. Then I would bathe. She hadn’t been intimate with me in the water yet. Most days she ordered me to stay in bed and see to her every whim.
Her ass was the focus of her dance. She rolled it in front of me for minutes. She didn’t shake it like you’d expect it was more like a belly dance. When she was done I would know it. Rosetta finished and turned to me, that gleam was in her eye. She was the princess, the mistress. I had made the mistake of telling her now once in our time together.
She didn’t beat me or anything. I think she could break me in half if she wanted to.No, physical punishment beyond the spanking or the riding crop she’d liked to use. Though that wasn’t her way of punishing me. No, she just drove me nuts. She bound me and took away my ability to move or speak, and then she’d spank me or orgasm on me. I watched too much of her nectar hit the stone while I thirsted. “Beatings are not effective.” She’d always says, “Denial is much better.”
She was happy with me again though, and honestly, I was esated that I was back on her good side. She walked up dropping the sarong and she left the corset on. It looked like something out of the sixteen-hundreds and she had said as much when I’d asked her about it. She liked talking with me. Honestly, I think she missed talking to people almost as much as she liked sex. She was hardly a nymphomaniac, but she sure seemed to be making up for lost time. Not that she admitted it to me.
She swung her hips and climbed up on me. I wrapped her arms around me and kissed me roughly. “Did my cute little slave enjoy his dance?” I ran my hands through her hair, it was wet feeling like usual. “Will you be joining me for dinner?” She asked tickling her fingers across my chest. “Your mistress has a sexy little black dress she wants to slip out of.”
“Of course, mistress.” I said, it was becoming much more appealing and automatic to call her that. I saw her kitchen. She used natural formations in her little cave to create a brick stove. She did a lot of the cooking only because I was inept at it. I hadn’t lived in a place without a microwave before. She’d tried to make me a kitchen slave, even had an apron I was to wear (and only the apron) but when I started a fire (keep in mind this was a mostly damp kitchen) she decided that part of my curriculum would be to learn how to cook.
The other coursed I had to learn were how to bring my mistress to multiple orgasms, how to have sex all night (and she means from bedtime to dawn), and ass worship. I was a diligent student, but she was a demanding teacher.
“Then you’ll need to build up an appetite.” She giggled kissing me violating my mouth with her tongue. She ground her pussy against my cock getting me hard with hardly any effort. Sitting up she slowly worked my now nine-inch dick into her swollen netherlips. I groaned and grabbed her rump. She squealed. She gave me an Eskimo kiss.
Her hands on my shoulders her big bottom smoked down against my thighs as she rode me. I was used to her rough needs. She was rarely very tender with me. She didn’t want to be. Oh, she had her little games of romance, but sex was her pleasure, her business. I was not to dawdle when she decided it was time for me to give her what she wanted.
Soon she was swearing at me in Spanish to fuck her harder, well, I didn’t actually know Spanish, but you get the gist of such things after you’ve been in someone’s bed for a whole day. I felt used, but I liked it. I couldn’t help myself at this point. The sound of flesh slappingon flesh filled the cavern that was her bedroom. She pushed my head between her breasts. Soon I was cumming inside her. She also had her first of what would be many orgasms for the afternoon. Her hair was disheveled by this point. “Come on, love, keep going.” She cried.
The chair felt back and we laughed as we hit the carpets and pillows around the chair. The memory of a few bumps and scrapes had caused Her to put more protection around the places she liked to take me. “Oh, baby.” She said still humping me. I began sucking her breasts. She cooed and cradled my head against her large chest. “Cum for mistress.” She said milking me more and more. My balls cinched and she screamed pushing my head deeper in the ravine of her cleverage. She chanted cum over and over until I spilled more seed into her. My orgasms were becoming as powerful as Rosetta’s. A flood of my hot stick seed filled her and ran down her inner thighs. The orgasm went on for several seconds.
“Yes…” She hissed. She pulled herself off my spear, I was still hard. “Oh, you’re doing so well, baby.” She said lying down over my legs and running her breasts over my thighs as her mouth wrapped around my golf-ball sized testicles. It wasn’t just my dick, my balls grow bigger and remarkably dense with more of her nectar. I had asked her why I was changing, and she said it was just what it did. Then she’d spanked me playfully for complaining about becoming one of the best studs she’d ever had. I took the compliment and only began drinking more of her nectar. The stuff was good, so very good.
Her hand wrapped around my thicker shake. She sucked harder and began stroking me off. “You’re such a slut for me aren’t you?” She teased. She stopped sucking quickly and got on her hands and knees. Pushing Two fingers into her sex she pulled out our mixed need and put it in her tight asshole. “Put your fat pecker in my ass, lover-boy.” She cooed.
I obliged. My hard crown pushed into her tight ass andI began humping her. She was apparently used to taking her slaves in this way. “Harder, baby. I’m not going to break.” She fell down to her elbows, resting on her forearms. Eventually, and proudly my fucking pushed her flat against the ground. I was riding her harder than I ever had. “Oh, yes…” she cried.
“Don’t you dare cum in my ass, boy.” She ordered. So when the tightness in balls reared again I pulled out and came on her ass. She pursued. She stood like I had only been giving her a massage and not fucking her brains out as hard as I could. “Come on, love.” She said curling a finger, “You’re going to bathe with me.” I followed obediently. She didn’t make me crawl or anything, but I still followed her like the obedient slave I was. It was harder and harder to resist her, and I didn’t I’m surprised I still know what day it was. It was getting hard to remember something. I followed the sway of her hips and ass wherever she wanted me to go.
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