The Key

I split the blinds with my thumb and index finger and peered through them when I heard the van door. I always watch closely as they walk up the sidewalk, the motion of their body, their clothes, all clue me in to what comes next. This one was different from the last few. Her blonde hair carefully arranged, short black skirt perfect and wrinkle-free, red pumps catching the sun in just the right way. It was almost as if she planned it that way, her mind racing in an attempt to entice me.

I knew her carefully controlled life camouflaged the chaos, the turmoil, the lack of self-control she felt boiling up in the back of her throat. Given just the right circumstances, just the right words, that plastic exterior would melt away, leaving nothing but the heat.

She acts like a bitch, and she deserves what she is about to get. In reality, I know she is a whore. A dirty, reluctant slut, using her cunty power to get what she wants. It is high time she was taught a lesson, her perfect world shattered like the mirror in front of which she spends too much time. She should not have kept me waiting, pacing back and forth in front of the window, straining to hear the sound of a motor. It is I who have the power, I who should keep her waiting. The lesson will be taught in due time.

The timid knocks confirmed my theory, and I opened the door so she couldn’t see my face. Never, ever let them see your face before they come inside. She stammered, “I….uh…..called about the ….couch?” It isn’t a question, you ignorant whore, I thought, but relished the unease she already clearly felt.

“Come in,” I directed, stepping further inside while still holding onto the doorknob. I’m getting better at this, I thought to myself, locking the door discretely and turning away. “Follow me.” I didn’t have to look back, for I knew she would obey me.

Some women require a little more insistence. Some need some physical “guidance,” as I like to call it. I remember one in particular who only responded after sixty seconds with my fingers around her throat, fingernails digging deep, pushing against her trachea. This one needed nothing more than a direct order. I knew she was going to be easy. I opened the basement door with just enough force to show that I was in control and stepped to the side and slightly behind her, just in case.

“Walk down the stairs,” I heard myself say, as my hand casually found my pocket, checking for the key and the piece of rope. Just in case. I have found that one can never be too prepared. She followed my directive, almost as if she preferred to do so, rather than out of a sense of duty. She’s not even fighting back, I thought to myself, which made me even angrier. Sometimes I enjoy the struggle, the fight for control, the need to open up the cabinet downstairs and choose a thick leather crop or a ballgag. I felt my jaw clench tightly as I glared at the back of her head. She really is a cunty whore.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she stopped. I reared my hand back to slap her, but stopped myself. Perhaps my struggle for control with this one will be with myself, I considered, feeling my cock strain against the metal of my zipper.

“In the corner,” I said, firmly, pointing with my outstretched finger even though I knew she wouldn’t be able to see in the dark. I was feeling more powerful now, as I restrained myself from throwing her to the floor, the urge strengthening within me, fighting to be released. Move faster, bitch, I thought, knowing that I would quickly lose the fight with desire. “Closer,” I barked, and her pace quickened immediately as I felt her moving further from me. I took long strides, breathing in her muskiness. Without warning, my arms flew up on either side of her, grabbing the bars of the cage, throwing my hips into her, smashing, shoving, fumbling for the key, growing angrier and more powerful.

I pushed her inside and locked the door, knowing I must. The power needs room to grow, I thought. If I end it now, she wins. “Undress.” She pulled her shirt up over her head without unbuttoning it, her skirt falling to the floor. But those shoes, those shiny red shoes, stayed on her feet. The hands of my well-trained pet thrust out of the darkness and pulled her to the floor, pushing her knees against her chest. Cunts mashed together, the damp desire growing in my chest as I unzipped my pants and took my powerful tool into my hands, squeezing tightly.

“Lie down,” I ordered. Her blonde hair fanned out on the dirt floor, mouth open wide, almost as if she had expected this to happen. My pet devoured her wet pussy, just as I taught her. I watched the selfish whore taking it all in as if this were actually about her. Angrily, I bellowed, “Lick her.” She strained her neck and extended her tongue, probing the wet snatch perched above her face.

Greedy little bitch. It’s time she learned what she’s really good for. I slammed open the cage, red in front of my eyes, stepping on her hair, thrusting my cock deep inside my caged beast’s ass while she watched from below. I knew she would understand that this would quickly be her own fate, and reveled in the thought that she could not control it.

“Lick my cock,” I commanded, plunging deep into her throat before she could think. Three deep strokes, and then I returned to the ass waiting in front of me, shredding it with my ever swelling fuckrod.

“Get on your knees. Both of you.” They obeyed as I poised behind my newest cum bag slut. Take this, bitch, I thought to myself, as my hips flung themselves against her fleshy backside. Bam! Bam! Bam! The sound of slapping skin, smacking cunt, echoed in the room as I pulled back, hard, on her hair, wrapping it tightly in my fist. Ripping her open, I threw her back onto the ground, her head hitting with a thud, bouncing back up as she licked her lips for more.

She’s not supposed to like it, dirty slut, I thought, as I plowed my cock deep into her soaked, smelly cunt. Fucking whore. I’m the one in control here. My hands wrapped around my pet’s throat, groping, choking, must have the power. I threw her away from the cunty bitch.

“Suck my cock!” I cut off her air supply with my dick as I fucked her tidy little face, her shoes still mocking me. My searing strength, pushing, head between my knees squeezing her life out and sucking her energy like a rabid vampire, hips pounding her into the floor again, and again, and again until my power flowed freely. And with a shudder and a moan, and the knowledge that I was, indeed, the one in control, it ended—for now.

“Stay here,” I commanded, knowing she would obey. I stuck the key in the lock and turned it, even though I knew it wasn’t necessary, and walked up the stairs without looking back.