The Inferior

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Anya’s First Fantasy

“You have to ask me,” she reminded him, standing in the kitchen where he had sought her out.

Her raven black hair hung loose over the smooth brown skin of her shoulders and her expression as she regarded him was one she had heard described as: “Haughty”

She could tell how taken he was with the grey woolen dress and sheer nylon pantyhose as it tapered down and disappeared into black shoes with pointed toes and sharp heels.

“Please, Anya,” he began, “can I…”

“No!” she barked, enjoying the way the handsome Englishman flinched. “You should be naked and on your knees before me. Do it now!”

His haste to do as she asked would have been touching had it not been so pathetic.

“Look at you,” she sneered. “Tying yourself in knots to obey a young girl - and you so much older than she. A brown girl and your servant too, and you an Englishman; what would your friends say?”

Almost before her jeering had finished, he was kneeling at her feet on his haunches, servile and anxious; the need etched upon his features a joy to behold.

“Ask me then,” she reminded him again, as if he were little more than a half-wit rather than a mildly successful former writer some thirty years her senior.

“Please,” he begged.

“Please, what?”

“Please, Master, let me… let me masturbate for you.”

“What?” she snarled, feigning outrage; “Are you a pervert? You want to touch yourself in front of me? In your own kitchen?”

“Please, Master.”

“You are a pervert, are you not? Let me hear you say it.”

“I… I’m a pervert, Master.”

She smiled.

“I just wanted you to be clear on that point;” a hand coming around from behind her then, to dangle something before his eyes. “Do you know what these are?”

His eyes sparkled hungrily:

“They… They’re your panties, Master,” he told her, lips dry.

Without a word she took a single step towards him and draped them over his head; sure to position the gusset over his nose.

“I have worn them for the past three days so they will be nice and…ripe for you.”

Below her, she watched with amusement as his tongue darted out to taste her stale secretions.

“I expect a thank you when I give you something.”

“Thank you Master,” he obeyed through the fabric covering his mouth.

Turning to her side, she hitched up her skirt to present him with her right leg, the pressure on her calf muscles from the high heels dimpling their length on the upward rise to her sleek and powerful thighs, rippling beneath the sheer black nylon containing them.

“Here, on the kitchen floor, in your own home, you are going to hump your servant’s leg like the animal you truly are,” she told him. “Then, when you know yourself for the dog you most resemble, you are going to clean your man-juice from her nylons with your tongue. Understand?”

“Hmmm,” came from below her, her slave too immersed in the sensations provided by her soiled underwear to find words.

“I do not think, after this, we will have any more confusion concerning just who is in charge here.”

She reached out to pinch the lobe of his ear with her free hand.

“Up!”

Instantly, he rose from his haunches to his knees.

“Do it!” she snapped.

After a moment’s hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her hips and pressed his erection against the side of her pantyhose-clad leg, the rasping of the nylon against his foreskin bringing a muffled gasp from him.

“Hurry along!” she ordered him. “I have things to do.”

He did as she asked immediately; the taste and the smell of her soiled underwear continuing to assail his senses as he thrust against her leg in an unholy imitation of a rutting canine.

It couldn’t have been more than five strokes after he began humping, so strong was his excitement, that he let out a massive gasp and exploded against her; jet after jet of white semen covering her thigh; his body sagging against her hips as she looked down with contempt.

“There,” she told him, mockery unmistakable; as was the sheer fulfillment she received from such control: “not such a cruel master after all, am I?”

Stepping from his grasp, she surveyed the semen soaked nylon at her thighs and tutted before tearing her panties from his head.

“Well?” she said, after a few seconds, tone expectant: “Don’t just kneel there like an imbecile,

His stared up at her, eyes that were more than just a little beaten showing puzzlement also.

With a huge sigh of the type one makes at the shortcomings of a half-wit, she again took him by the ear and leaned down to glare into his eyes:

“Get your unworthy tongue to work and clean me up, you animal.”