Letters to Penthouse XXXII (19 page)

The first thing he does when I come into the house is attach my collar around my neck. We had it custom-fitted and engraved
with the words “Slave Tracy belongs to Master Brad” and the date of our ceremony.
When I hear the click of the metal clasp falling into place, my pussy throbs and my body slips further into obedience mode.
I know the collar means that Brad will take care of me, and I consent to letting him have the run of my body during the time
that I’m wearing it.

Last night was a typical one for us. “Get down on the floor, Tracy,” he said as soon as I was collared, his voice betraying
none of the tenderness I know he’s capable of. When he’s in master mode, Brad becomes my tormentor, and I never know what
to expect. I got on my hands and knees on the cold linoleum tile, already feeling my pussy contract with excitement. Being
so close to the floor always makes me feel wild and feral, like an animal obeying her master’s command. Brad stood in front
of me, fiddling with his zipper until his cock sprang free from his pants. My mouth salivated at the sight of his bulging
shaft. But when I opened my mouth, he teased me by stepping back, his meaty rod visible but out of my grasp. I whimpered as
he finished undressing, knowing that I wasn’t allowed to move until he told me to. He walked back toward me, stark naked,
yet every inch my commanding master.

He moved behind me and nudged my ass with his foot, my signal to start crawling. I wasn’t exactly sure where he wanted me
to go, but feeling him following me so closely made my cunt produce trickles of juice that I was sure he could see. Then,
just as we were about to reach a crossroads and I’d have to either climb the stairs or head into the basement, he stopped
me.
Sometimes I think Brad just wants to see what I’ll do, if I really will follow his every order. The answer is always yes.

He leaned down so that his body covered mine and I felt his cock resting against my backside. “Now, my slave, I have a special
treat for you.” Brad likes to phrase things in a way that makes it sound like he’s doing me a favor, when really he’s issuing
a command. Either way, I’m always eager for whatever he has in store. “Open your mouth,” he said, and when I did, he slid
a small blue rubber ball gag between my lips, then fastened the chain behind my head. I moaned, feeling the saliva pooling
in my mouth. He’d never gagged me before, though he had told me to be quiet on many an occasion. “That’s much better. Now
there’s no chance the neighbors will hear you scream while I tease you.”

As he said this, he lightly stroked my pussy, then pinched my lips one at a time in a way that added to my arousal without
actually leading me anywhere toward orgasm. When he pinched my clit, the heat seemed to pierce my core, making the emptiness
inside me seem even larger. He shoved two fingers inside my wet cunt. “I bet you wish you could ask me to slide my cock inside
you right now, don’t you?” It was a rhetorical question, because I always want his cock inside me, especially when my cunt
is dripping onto our living-room floor. He slapped his dick against my ass, reminding me once again how big and hard it was,
and that I’d have to wait until he was ready to give me what
I wanted the most. He pulled his fingers out, then trailed them up my backside, making me shudder as my own wetness tingled
against my skin. He moved his wet fingers up until he reached my neck, where he lingered, caressing the delicate skin right
below my hairline, just above the collar. With his other hand, he cupped my pussy, grinding his palm against my oozing slit.

I struggled to be absolutely quiet, knowing that for Brad, silence is golden, and any noise I made would surely delay his
moment of entry. He tugged on the collar, and I could feel the metal pressing against my neck, just enough to make me feel
its hard edge, without causing me any discomfort. My body trembled as he released his grip and then tugged again, my breathing
erratic as he caught me off guard. When he finally let go of the collar and grabbed a fistful of my hair, tugging it gently
so my head arched backward, I was so wet that my juice dribbled down my thighs. A slight moan involuntarily escaped my lips,
audible even through the gag, and the sound echoed through the room. By then, Brad was just as turned on as I was, and he
gave me a solid smack on each ass cheek when he heard the noise I made.

Then he held open my pussy lips with his thumbs, letting the air collide with my wet folds, making me wait a few more precious
seconds for his cock. He knelt and I knew he was staring at my cunt, even though I couldn’t see him looking. I blushed at
being
so exposed to his gaze. “My slave,” he addressed me, formal as always, despite his hard dick. “It appears that you are extremely
wet,” he said, swiping a finger along my slit. My cunt was begging to be filled, but he continued to toy with me, to show
that he was in charge. I marveled at his ability to hold out. He went right on holding my nether lips open while he played
with my pussy to his heart’s content. Finally, after what seemed like an almost interminable wait, he replaced his fingers
with his cock. With no warning, he made the switch in seconds, claiming my cunt with his dick as he plunged inside me in one
swift thrust. The contrast—from having just a single finger brushing lightly against my hungry slit to his meaty cock filling
me all the way up—was divine.

As he thrust into me again and again, he grabbed the collar, holding me still. Brad raked his short nails down my back, then
reached underneath me to cup my breasts while he fucked me. Even though I am his slave, Brad always gives me pleasure. This
time was no exception. He squeezed my nipples hard, just the way I like it, and my pussy flooded with juice. He tugged on
my hard nubs, pulling them, then tweaking them between his fingers, before swatting at my protruding nubs, softly hitting
my breasts. My nipples became so pleasantly sensitive that even a gentle touch sent shudders through me, then centered in
my hot pussy.

When he was done with my nipples, he put his
hands on top of mine on the floor and shoved his cock into me as deeply and fiercely as he could. As much as I tried to clench
my pussy around his hard cock to keep him inside, he kept moving back and forth, creating more and more friction.

I couldn’t hold out much longer, not with the way he was turning his hips and working his cock so that it met my G-spot every
time he re-entered my pussy. I was relieved when he said, “On the count of three, I want you to come,” and then he ticked
off the numbers. On “one,” he slammed into me with the roughest thrust yet, coming in a huge explosion of hot liquid, and
I came, too, releasing my own juices around his cock.

He moved off me and pulled me on top of him. We were on the floor, but for me, lying on the warm, sweaty body of my loving,
sexy master felt as comfortable as being on a bed of pillows. I’m so glad that he gets to see the real me, the one who comes
out to play only for him.

—Ms. Tracy L., White Plains, New York
     

I hate cleaning the house. Left to my own devices, nothing would ever get dusted, and mildew and grime would take over. Luckily,
my husband, Robert, loves doing domestic chores, and as a result of his dedication,
our home is always impeccable, which doesn’t give me a lot of reasons to punish him. I think that’s why he sometimes “forgets”
little things, like leaving a newspaper unfolded in the bedroom or an unwashed dish in the kitchen sink. When I see that,
my pussy starts dripping immediately, although I don’t let my husband know how aroused I am. Instead, I yell his name loudly
enough that he’ll hear me no matter where he is, and then he comes running.

The other night I found the clean laundry unfolded in its basket, while Robert watched a baseball game. “It’s tied in the
bottom of the ninth,” he said by way of explanation, as though I might cut him some slack. But my cunt was already tingling
at the thought of some well-deserved discipline, so I told him to turn off the TV and follow me to the bedroom.

When we got there, I told him to strip and then wait for me on his knees while I went into my dressing room to change. When
I returned, his eyes widened upon seeing my black Merry Widow and stiletto-heeled boots, and his erection twitched. It’s the
reaction I always receive when I wear that outfit. Or perhaps it was in response to the wooden paddle I was holding in one
hand and slapping against the palm of the other.

I took a step toward him and pointed to my cunt. “Eat me,” I said, knowing I’d be able to concentrate on punishing him better
once I’d gotten my first orgasm out of the way. Obediently, Robert crawled forward until his mouth was level with my crotch
and then he
undid the snaps of my black garment and breathed in the scent of my sex. He started raising his hands, but I quickly slapped
them away. “Mouth only!” I snapped, so he dropped his arms to his sides and brought his face to the juncture of my thighs.

I grasped my husband’s head when he extended his tongue and touched it to my pussy. He swiped up and down between my naked
labia to get at my inner lips, priming me for the main event. I began panting when he targeted my clit, wrapped his lips around
it, and flicked it with his tongue. He was doing that so hard and so fast that he had trouble maintaining his balance in his
crouched position. I held his head more tightly so that he wouldn’t fall on his ass. As my pleasure escalated, my grip on
him tightened, and when he stiffened his tongue to thrust it into my hole, I came all over his handsome face.

I choked back a cry, but feeling the tremors of my body, Robert ceased licking me and looked up. “Did I say you could stop?”
I barked, and he shook his head before casting his eyes to the floor. “First the laundry, and now this,” I continued before
telling him to get up and lean over my desk chair to present his ass.

I retrieved the paddle from where I’d left it on the dresser and moved behind my husband. His firm white buttocks, now so
vulnerable, were a beautiful sight, and I was unable to resist reaching out and giving them a loving caress. Feeling his body
relax at my touch, I raised my other arm and brought the paddle down on
his cheeks. He moaned, so I did it again, his sounds of pleasure escalating. Then I gave him another firm smack, and another,
and it wasn’t long before his perfect skin wasn’t so pale anymore.

I gazed down at Robert’s blushing ass, proud of my handiwork. He gripped the chair’s seat for support, as he anticipated the
next swat. He was bucked forward when I laid another smack on his rosy cheeks. This one was a little harder than the previous
few, and he let out a little grunt. “Silence!” I demanded, and he replied, “Yes, Mistress,” obediently. Hearing that pleased
me, so I gave him a few more taps with my paddle until I felt like he’d had enough.

That’s when I noticed the puddle on the floor beneath him. Though it was small, it was too large to be pre-ejaculatory fluids
that had dripped from his dick. Apparently, he had come, and without my permission, something he isn’t supposed to do. I guessed
that he hoped I wouldn’t notice, but he should have known that something like that wouldn’t escape my attention.

I commanded him to rise and then turn to face me. His cock was now at half mast, confirming my suspicion that he’d had an
orgasm. The look on his face was unmistakable, so I asked him to explain himself.

“You made me feel so good, Mistress,” he replied, and I regarded him for a moment before sending him downstairs for the Swiffer
WetJet. When he returned, I sat on the bed and played with myself while he cleaned up his mess. As he pushed the mop back
and forth, his
cock once again rising to its full length, I pinched my nipples and rubbed my clit, making my juices drip over my fingers
onto the sheets below my ass. Something else for him to clean, I thought to myself as I watched him carry out his task.

Once, he looked over as though wanting to watch me masturbate, but I admonished him to keep mopping. Making sure to moan
loudly, I thrust my slickened fingers in and out of my hole, knowing he could hear the squishing noises as I plunged into
my watery depths. Then I cried out as I came, which once again drew Robert’s attention. This time, I caught his eye and held
it, telling him to get a good, long look at what he was missing as a result of his little gaffe.

He looked sufficiently repentant and the floor was now devoid of his release, so I told him to put away his cleaning supplies
and join me in bed. He did so gleefully and then gingerly sat down next to me. That reminded me that his ass would still be
tender from the spanking, so I had him lie flat on his back, making sure that his cheeks would rub against the cool sheets.
Then I mounted him and lowered my pussy over his dick.

I was now glad that he’d had his little orgasm earlier because it meant that I could ride him for a good, long while. Though
his shaft pulsed and swelled inside my canal I knew he wouldn’t be coming any time soon. Then I began moving over his erection,
using my slave husband like a human dildo, and he endeavored not to move, letting me have my fun.