He withdraws, flips me over, drags me up onto my knees, then f***s me from behind, his strong fingers digging into my hips and his heavy balls slapping against my p***y.
He pulls my hair.
Spanks my ass.
Reaches around between my legs and fondles my c**t as he thrusts, sliding his fingers through my folds.
The carpet burning my knees, I moan and cry out deliriously.
He rasps, “Come on your master’s c**k. My beautiful captive, be a good girl and come for me.”
His words work like magic. Within seconds, I’m convulsing around his erection, bucking back against it and calling out his name.
Had anyone told me a month ago that a man would handcuff me, get me to orgasm on command, and use the words “master” and “captive” to refer to our relationship, I would have laughed until I peed myself.
