I was alone in the city when I met Victor.
We were both new in town, both a little lost. We started dating, fell hard, and got married within the year. A year after that, after every test and specialist, we learned I couldn’t have children. Something wrong with me. The news hit us both, but instead of drifting apart we threw ourselves into sex like it was the only thing left that still worked.
Every weekend we rented porn and tried whatever we saw. I loved it. I was always ready for whatever new thing he wanted to do to me.
That was our life until the night everything changed.
Victor’s company was finishing the build-out of a new club in a nearby town. One night he came home and told me we were invited to the opening.
“Wear something extreme,” he said. “There’ll be good-looking people there.”
He meant the dress we’d both seen in a shop window weeks earlier — pale, almost see-through gauze, ridiculously short, deep round neckline in front and a low V in the back. I’d tried it on and he’d told me I looked fuckable as hell, but too dangerous for public. We decided I should wear it anyway.
That Friday I put on nothing but a tiny thong underneath so it wouldn’t show, the dress, and heels that made my legs look endless. At the club Victor introduced me to partners and coworkers. Most of them looked me up and down openly. I liked it. I liked being looked at like that.
I was standing at the bar while Victor went to handle some small problem when I noticed three men across the room. One of them — tall, athletic, sharp-featured — was staring at me with an intensity that felt physical. Not the usual appreciation. Something heavier. I tried to look away. He didn’t.
When Victor came back, the same man approached us. Victor shook his hand and introduced him as Mr. Kane, one of the club’s investors. Kane took my hand, pulled me in, and kissed both cheeks. The contact sent a jolt straight through me. My cunt clenched.
Later, when we were leaving, Kane stopped us at the door. Victor got distracted by someone else for a moment. Kane’s hand slid to my ass, squeezed hard, and he said, almost casually:
“We’ll see each other again.”
On the drive home I was soaked. I had my hand in Victor’s lap before we even left the parking lot. He pulled over behind a closed bar and fucked me against the side of the car while I came hard with Kane’s face in my head.
Days passed. I told myself I’d forget about him.
Then one afternoon the phone rang while I was finishing lunch. It was Kane. He asked if Victor was home. When I said no, he asked if he could drop off some plans. Twenty minutes later he was at my door.
I was only wearing a thin button-up robe and panties. When I bent to set the coffee down, the robe fell open. He stared at my tits without shame. Then his hand was on my thigh, sliding higher, undoing buttons.
I didn’t stop him.
He stripped the robe off me, pulled my panties down, bent me over the arm of the couch, and pushed inside in one smooth thrust. I came almost immediately. He didn’t care. He used me until he finished, pulled out, wiped his cock on my back, and told me to go clean up.
When I returned he was dressed again.
“I want you available twenty-four hours a day,” he said. “Every day. Your body when I want it, how I want it. I’ll put you on the payroll of one of my companies. You’ll make as much as your husband, maybe more. Think about it. I’ll be back tomorrow at the same time for your answer. And wear the same robe. I want you to get used to the smell of my cum.”
He left.
That night I told Victor everything. He called me a whore, then went quiet when he heard about the money. In the end he said the decision was mine.
The next day, when Kane returned, I was wearing the same cum-stained robe and nothing underneath.
“I accept,” I said.
He smiled like he’d known the answer all along.
From that moment he was Master.
He made me stand. Stripped me. Took me to the bedroom. Ordered me to put a pillow in the middle of the bed. Then he stroked himself until he came all over it, thick ropes soaking the fabric. He made me spread it with my hand, lick my fingers clean, then suck his cock clean.
“Tonight when you sleep,” he said, “you’ll smell like you belong to me.”
That night, while Victor was in bed beside me, Master called.
“Can you smell my cum, slut?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good. Lick the pillow. Get your fingers wet with what’s left of me and finger yourself. I want to hear how wet you are.”
I did it. Victor got up and left the room without a word.
When Master hung up, Victor came back, bent me over, and fucked my ass hard while pushing my face into the stained pillow. He came deep inside me and left me there.
I didn’t move.
I just lay in the dark, smelling the pillow, already waiting for the next order.
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