Real World in Fashion.

beauty

beauty I don't know why I'm here. My mistress traded me away tonight saying that she was fed up with me, that she had fallen out of love with me. That hurt. As a slave you come to depend on your master, on the love that they give or withhold, the pain they give and then take away. It hurt to know that I could be treated like a piece of garbage; tossed to the curb when no longer useful. She'd given me to her friend; sometimes during our long sessions she would talk about her friend. Lyra. Lyra was supposedly new to the dark games of slavery and submission and my mistress had given me into her inept hands. So here I am, waiting. I'm standing in a large bedroom that is dark and cool with a four poster bed surrounded by diaphanous black cloth dominating the room. I don't know where she is but I can feel eyes on me it makes the trench in my back grow cold and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Quite suddenly I see something appear to emerge from the wall and come towards me, in the dim light of the room I can make out a womanly shape clad in all black. Closer and closer I can feel the shift in the air currents as she approaches, those little puffs of wind carry her scent up to my nose. Roses, I know the scent, roses and a deeper, musky spice that comes from her alone. She steps in front of me less than three feet away. She's beautiful with long dark hair that she has left loose falling in spiral waves to her hips, her dark eyes pierce me, strip me as if in these first few moments she has acquired all the knowledge about me that she will ever need. The shadows in the room play on her face highlighting her cheekbones allowing me to see that she is young. With a slight smile curving one side of her lush mouth she gracefully walks about me. I have to remember the etiquette that I learned at the hand of my former mistress so I bow my head letting my long black hair fall forward to cover my face. I gasp involuntarily when I feel one cold fingertip against the exposed nape of my neck she traces it down from the hairline to the collar of my black t-shirt. With light teasing motions her hands flit about my body touching my broad shoulders, my back, as she comes back around to face me her hands trace the ridges of my stomach. She brings one hand up crooking her finger under my chin pushing up so that we can meet eyes. I have to keep my head down a little as I'm taller than her. It never fails to make ordinary people wonder what could make a man like me, so big and strong, be held captive by a tiny woman? Why, when I could easily escape? What makes me stay now, is it the thrill of the unknown or the thought that maybe this new mistress might be the one to love me, love me enough to break me and still keep all the pieces? She brings up her right hand still keeping her left one under my chin as she fans her fingers out so gracefully to let them slip over my face, down my brow, the bridge of my nose and my lips. She's turning me on. I can feel the blood pool in my cock making it pulse and throb. "You're quite the beauty." She whispers her voice low and seductive. I could cum to that voice alone whispering to me in the middle of the night. Her hand travels from my face down my throat to my chest where she lays her hand over my heart. I'd never felt anything so intimate as this, her hand over my heart feeling the lifeblood course through me. Usually my former masters would tie me up, whip me, and then, depending on their mood, let me cum through masturbation in front of them or by physical sex. None of them had ever touched me like this before; as if they savored the feel of me, none of them praised my beauty only my tolerance for pain and my incredible endurance. The pressure of her hand on my chest becomes heavier as she begins to walk me backward pushing me up against a bare wall of the room. Her fingers dig into the waistband of my jeans pulling my t-shirt up over my head. I hear a soft sigh come from her as she admires my skin and muscle tone. Taking one step back she says in the same sexy whisper. "Remove your pants, slowly." I do as she says slowly slipping the jeans over my hips and off my legs until I stand in my black boxers waiting for her next command. I have to admit I thought she'd be like all the others stripping me and whipping the flesh from my back before a bout of wild mindless fucking but this way, this slow sensual way, made my heart pound in excitement and all my limbs to tremble with the electric air of anticipation. When I looked back up at her I noted her slim, compact body dressed in a black catsuit, her feet were bare with the tiny nails painted black. I wanted her in a way I had never wanted anyone else. "Take them off." At her words I shed the boxers in the same slow manner until I stood naked and vulnerable to her. I couldn't stop the shaking of my limbs; it was like it was the first time I had ever submitted before, not knowing what to expect. "Raise your arms, not too high." When I had done as she said Lyra came up to me taking my thick wrists in her hands and placing a black leather cuff over each tightening the leather so that I was held pinned with my back to the wall. Lyra pressed herself into me leaning against me so that I could feel her breasts against my chest, the way her ribcage expanded with each breath her hands cupped my face. "I love your green eyes." Her thumbs grazed my lips as I watched her eyes drop down to look at my mouth. "Your lips." Her hands went into my hair, she pulled a lock of it out from behind me to inspect the glossy raven color before her hands delved into the thick mass as she pulled it, her hands fisted at the nape of my neck causing such sweet agony. "Kiss me. Kiss me, slave." And I did though her hands never let up the pressure on my hair. I kissed her brutally hard with my tongue in her sweet mouth meeting hers as she pulled away she bit into my lower lip breaking the tender skin. "Oh no," She watched as a small drop of blood welled up on my lower lip. When she brought her lips to mine I expected more pain but instead she placed her lips on mine very lightly with the tip of her tongue licking up the blood. "You taste very good." She stepped away then cocking her head to the side as she stared at me. "No one has ever told you the truth have they?" I couldn't believe that she was actually talking to me I could barely think after those searing kisses she gave me. My cock was thick and hard with the head seeping pre-cum all I wanted was to be inside her. I hoped that she wouldn't make me jerk off. Suddenly I felt my cock grabbed and the sensation forced me out of my reverie. "Have they?" I tried to open my mouth to speak but I was unable to. It was then I felt a stinging slap on the side of my face. It brought tears to my eyes, no one had ever slapped me before it was always with a whip or once even a cane, never with their bare hand. Lyra sidled up to me one of her arms worming underneath my back as she moved her other hand from my cock up to my chest. She kissed the side of my face where she had slapped me. There were so many sensations to handle all at once; the slap, the softness of her lips, the heat of her body pressed into mine, her hand on my chest once again, her scent. She reached up to touch one glistening tear moving so that she was now standing in front of me I saw her place her finger in her mouth tasting my tears. My cock was so hard, I had never been so hard before, so full of need and desire. Burning with lust. Lyra raised her arms her fingers for one brief moment tangled with mine, she continued sliding them down my bound arms, down my ribs, to my nipples which she pinched softly and then harder making me moan and arch my body up to brush against hers. "The truth is, I won you. I saw you and wanted you. No one knows what you need better than I do." Through a haze of pain her words reached my very soul. "No one else can give you what you need." She bit the side of my neck with her sharp white teeth. I was so close to cumming the seed boiling in my balls threatening to spill over at any moment. She licked the spot where she had bitten me before she backed up causing me to moan pathetically thinking that she would leave me now, alone and unsatisfied. Slowly, sensually Lyra reached up to slide the straps of her bodysuit down her shoulders pulling the fabric down so I could see her small firm breasts with the dark nipples. As the black fabric was removed I felt a part of myself being removed along with it. I was baring my soul to Lyra. Lyra, who wanted me, who had seen me and coveted me from afar. I was broken open for her. She stood before me for a moment then turning she walked to the bed drawing back the bed curtains she sat at the foot of the bed, perched on the edge. Lyra bent over touching her feet letting her dark hair fall to the floor before she slowly started to rise up her hands moving over her ankles, calves, knees so that when she straightened her knees were spread and her hands were caressing her inner thighs. It was my hands on her body. I could practically feel the silky texture of her skin as her hands moved closer and closer to her shaved cunt. My mouth watered for a taste of her sweet cunt I actually strained against the cuffs that bound me wanting to be the one who touched her so badly. This was the worst form of torture that I had ever had. This was what hell was, a vision of loveliness so close that you can smell it, feel the heat of it, but never touch it. I was stretched on a wire of pure ecstasy that had pain on either side of it. The cuffs dug into my skin. "Please, mistress," She had me begging. Begging for one touch, one taste of her, if I could only lick her hand I would have taken it and have been glad. "Do you want to be here, my beauty?" Her silky voice was like knives raking my very soul. "Yes, mistress." I could see her slippery wet slit the way her fingers danced about the edges of her cunt darting into the wetness only to pull away. "Do you think you can make me cum?" I'd make her scream. I nodded. She got up walking back to me she wrapped her arms about my neck her naked flesh burning the length of my body. The seeping head of my cock was trapped between her hot thighs. She caressed my abused cheek before reaching up to undo the cuffs freeing my arms her body arched against mine. Between one breath and the next I had her pinned against the wall, I could hear her breath, feel it on my neck. My hands moved down her arms feeling the silkiest skin I had ever touched. Touching her was like committing a sin. My hands grabbed her hips picking her up off the floor; her hands came back around my neck. We stared each other in the eye as I plunged deeply inside of her. She threw her head back crying out; she was so tight, virginal really, and burning hot inside. I wanted to go deeper inside her to reach the very depths of her. I began slow, easy strokes that quickly eroded my control and it wasn't long before I was slamming into her trapping her lips with mine, eating her cries, I loved her. I moved my head to her breasts which she offered up to me by arching forward taking her nipple into my mouth and sucking the tender flesh. Her cries were loud as I slammed her up against the wall with my pounding strokes. Her hands were in my hair, her eyes locked to mine when she came on a scream her head back with my mouth on her throat feeling the vibrations through her flesh as I kissed her there. I tasted blood in my mouth knowing that we had reopened the cut on my lip that she had given me. Her hands moved from my neck down my waist to my hips and ass she urged me to go harder with breathless whispers and moans. This was slavery at its best, when the lines could cross and the master was for one moment the slave and both found equal fulfillment. She had broken me, taken me in her hands and loved every piece. When I came inside her I almost blacked out from the incredible release. We lay there still against the wall with her legs about my hips, her arms on my waist I could feel the spasmodic shudders of her cunt still milking my cock. After a long moment I held her more tightly to me and carried her over to the bed. We fell into the soft confines of the blankets still tangled with each other, my cock burning inside her cunt. This was beyond slavery games, beyond submission. Somewhere we had fallen off the path and could only cling to the other. It was love that made us more than slave and mistress. It was love that would put us on equal footing and I knew as I held her closer it would be love when I placed her in the cuffs.