Her Master Returns (Dark BDSM Erotica) Read Online Free PDF Page A

she had become - was
another added layer of crushing mortification. Yet Emily did as she
was told, perversely excited to be here again and have all her
dignity stripped away – to be an obedient slave, used and abused,
and hopefully get fucked good and hard at the end, which in the
depths of her depravity was what Emily craved.
    Pulling herself together, slowly accepting her disgusting
nature, Emily placed her hands upon the damp cement floor that
reeked of male urine. She bowed her head at Her Master’s feet and
kissed the top of each of his boots. She shuddered to think of what
a sight it must look – this act of submission, the ultimate in
deference – to kiss a man’s feet. Every social bone in her well
bred body was screaming in repugnance, yet Emily continued to obey
Her Master, revolted, but thrilled beyond measure as her tongue
flicked out to lick the black boots, tasting the dust of the street
and the office along with the tobacco like tang of the
leather.
    One boot then the other was washed all over, Emily getting
ever more excited, panting out her lust as she lashed the leather,
sniffing and nuzzling, rubbing her head against Her Master’s legs,
truly a bitch now brought to heel.
    “That’s more like it, Blondie,” Her Master finally said,
satisfied with the worship and the obedience being shown. “Now be a
good bitch and do the same for my friend. Drag your tongue over to
him – taste the floor.”
    Layer after layer! How much could she endure? To lick the
floor that stank of piss. Would the depths of her depravity know no
end? A voice of sanity was screaming in Emily’s head: ‘Stand up and tell them to go fuck
themselves!’ But this cock loving
submissive had already lost that battle, totally enslaved, body and
soul, defeated by Her Nemesis who had renewed his claim to mastery,
and by the simple little word ‘need’ .
    Her stomach twisted when her tongue made the contact – the
hard cement floor rough and damp, pungent and acrid. Emily thought
she might be sick, it was so disgusting. Trailing her tongue, she
fought another battle, and this one she won – holding down the bile
and vomit in her stomach as she inched her way the yard or so to
where another pair of boots, fine and expensive, waited for her
attention.
    Emily performed her duty and licked the footwear, less
enthusiastically, but she still made a good show – doing what Her
Master ‘needed’ her to do. Five minutes of humiliation that was enjoyed by
all. Then it was time for Emily to get naked. It was time for her
to get fucked and thoroughly abused – another little chore that was
apparently ‘needed’ – for reasons that would be made known in the fullness of
time, but for now her role was to blindly obey.

Chapter 4
    Kneeling on the wet floor between the guest of honour and Her
Master, Emily’s hands were shaking as she began to strip. First she
took off her bolero jacket, pragmatically folded it neatly and
placed it on the floor to her side. Next came the blouse. It took
her several tries to unbutton the thing, but she was finally able
to loosen the garment. It slid off her shoulders easily, and again
got folded and added to the jacket. It was at this point the new
man got involved in the action – he picked the garments up, stroked
the warm silk blouse like a pampered cat, before placing the
clothing on top of Emily’s bag. An odd piece of consideration, but
continentals can be funny like that.
    Feeling a little better towards this stranger who was destined
to screw her and do God knows what else, Emily removed her bra
slowly, taking her time, obeying Her Nemesis Master by prolonging
the process. Both men watched patiently as she finally bared her
treasures: two beautiful creamy orbs that were full and pert,
crowned with coral coloured nipples that were shamefully fat and
painfully sensitive. On seeing their glory, the Italian let out a
groan – a rare sign of appreciation that Her Nemesis picked up
on.
    “Play with