Fuckin’ Her Heartless Master

F*ck*n’ Her Master

******

“Yes, Master, f*ck me!”

As the initial, frigid sprinkle landed on the V–shaped, part between her breasts, she brought to mind her desirous moans. Being a mere housekeeper for this bed–marvellous–man made her barely breathe under the frosty splashes.

“Everything he touched solidified,” She thought.

Since that exceptional night of fantasy, Grace hadn't seen her master for about twelve–months. Now that summer had knocked, it was his time to comply with his greatest promise–that he would come home.

After a fast–shower, Grace settled on the couches and constantly watched her clock tick. Meanwhile, she esteemed the late–night–fantasies they had the night before going abroad for this one–year, contract–work thing.

As she pondered about his return, her heartbeat raced, and a peculiar ambition to encounter him crossed her heart. Adrian was voluptuous; so proficient in bed, and the founder of obsession between them. Not only her, who venerated his good looks, but also her friends and acquaintance. However, they never knew how salacious he could be.

Playing her fingers with a couch–pillow, she beamed to the whispers she had overheard that day while photocopying some documents at the nearby shop. Causally, Julia and Sofia never got weary of prying on her.

“Did you meet the good–for–nothing, nanny yesterday?”

“Of course, yes! Why do you ask?” she asked, furrowing her countenance.

“Just from a single glimpse, she seemed charmed, and I thought her master must be around the corner from abroad–” Julia enunciated, examining her friend's expression.

Julia and Adrian had an intimate companion until the day he disclosed she was f*ck*n’ a co-worker from his company. With that familiarity, their bond detached, leaving her resentful of any woman around him.

“You are envious, aren't you? Since his wife is no more, I don't see anything wrong with him falling for his nanny–”

With that, laughter filled–up the air. Meanwhile, Sofia continued, “They are too erotic together. Remember they were once course mates before she started working for him–”

“Drop that. I heard Grace is still a virgin. Do you believe that–?” Julia interjected, swiftly feeling exasperated.

“With a f*ck*n’ machine around her, I'm certain that's a big lie,” she protested, promptly cracking into a soft chuckle.

“I'm sure the two have been f*ck*ng three times a day. Perhaps, one hour of missionary–”

“And two hours of doggy–style–.”

With that, the two women squealed with laughter, unequivocally derisive. Despite being exasperated, she felt exhilarated instead of disgraced. Perhaps, they didn't comprehend how ludicrous and sweet they sounded, concurrently.

After all, he would be home soon. Snapping back to reality with a big grin, she checked her watch, then admired her exquisitely applied make–up in the mirror.

For about the eleventh time, she raked her silk, black–ribboned hair with her slender fingers before straightening up for another affirmation of her glamour.

She looked edgy, and undeniably she was! They had shared this one–night stand thing, and now it seemed like a perpetual obsession. Swapped out by his tenderness, she could tell he was going to pay his pledge.

Tonight was the long–awaited night and Adrian was going to have custody over everything. She knew she would surrender to his words undoubtedly. Meanwhile, her consciousness charged a tingly sensation within her, intriguing her to cross–leg. Promptly, she heard someone slightly touch the door before a key puncturing through the door lock.

Her heart forthwith leaping, she called, “Adrian?”

“Mmm.”

Without hesitation, the sitting–room door waved open, and her inexplicable man strode in, wearing his essential, broad smirk.

Meanwhile, Grace took a protracted breath, then turned to confront him. Locking eyes with him, shortly the tingling sensation between her legs intensified, her eyes scrutinizing through him.

Moreover, she realized he looked lush in a black suit and long–black boots, making him look like one of her dearest cowboys.

In turn, Adrian surveyed her expression before lifting his chin to examine the well–arranged, romantic sitting room.

After offering her a brief smile, he asked, “I have been away long enough that you obliterate my rules, little nanny. I thought you were supposed to stand–up each time I get home. Nowadays, you are obstinate, aren't you?”

Before he could do away with his authoritative words, Grace dropped to the floor and creeped into his direction, beseeching, “I apologize, master.”

Grace hadn't aged a bit. Like any other servant, she knew how gratified her master felt whenever she worshipped him. After all, it wasn't her blunder but his–that when he entered the room, she was glued on the couches.

Soon after, Adrian squatted and raised her chin, saying, “You frustrated me, you wh*r*. How dare you neglect your master?”

He admired her meekness; however, he couldn't distress her even if he wanted. Grabbing her cheeks playful, he tightened his hold and kissed her forehead.

“I'm sorry, master. That won't transpire again.” She promised, his cold face swiftly beaming with glee. Meanwhile, he loosened his grip and straightened up.

“That's my girl. Now, don't move a single inch. I have your gift.”

As ordered, Grace stood like a statue, not even moving a single inch. She knew when he spoke of persecution he meant hell. She understood exactly what he would do if she violated his rules. The punishment itself made the atmosphere feel heavily amorous.

She was about to peek when he emerged back, carrying a gift–box. Her eyes wide open, his presence made her hop in anxiety, undoubtedly dishonouring his command.

“On your knees, silly girl!” He ordered, promptly slipping the box on the floor.

Instantly, Grace dropped to the floor again and lowered her face, waiting for his judgement. Meanwhile, he reached her chin with his index finger and lifted her face to him. Thereafter, he smirked and reversed a step, saying, “Show me your t*ts!”

His decisive tone startled her, but she felt flushed at the thought of seeing what hid beneath his pants. Drowning in unconcealed thrill, she tried to straighten up to unbutton his trousers, but he grabbed her shoulders, and pressed her down.

“Start with your blouse,” he ordained, stiffly.

Her eyes locking with his, she undid the straps holding her black blouse from back and slid it off, her hands reaching out the straps of her bra.

After exposing her t*ts, Adrian slid himself on the cosy couches and smirked before instructing, “Your skirt, now!”

She struggled to drop her skirt from the squeezed position; however, that seemed impossible. Meanwhile, he signalled her to stand up, his face moving with her breasts. With that, she examined him only to discover that his trousers had bulged outward with a stroke forming beneath his pants.

Despite his brutal expression and tone, his emotions narrated a different story. Soon after, she allowed her skirt to drop on the floor, leaving her nude, except for her milky–stocking touching her knees.

Feeling a little abashed, she avoided his eye contact, not daring to say a word, or remonstrate. Seeing her completely raw stimulated him to shed his clothes too. Both utterly naked, that beckoned their fluently to action.

“Good, girl,” He whispered.

With that, he bent over and loosened his belt, commanding, “Grace, listen to me cautiously. I want you to knot your hands with my belt. As far as you are under my roof, you are under my decree, and you'll do whatever I ask without expostulation. Now, knot yourself! Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, reluctantly grabbing the belt from his fingers.

This wasn't her first time to knot her hands while he worked on her p*ssy. Typically, his belt served two purposes–keeping her under his command, and preserve her under the position he liked to f*ck her.

“Thank you, sir,” She said, amenably and knotted her hands.

Subsequently, Adrian watched her before instructing, “Turn around and look at yourself in the mirror.”

*********