Master C tilts my head back, grips my neck and forces His cock down my throat. This isn’t a blow-job, I am not in control; Master C is fucking my throat and using me for His pleasure.
It is rough, it is hard, it hurts my throat, it makes my jaw ache, I choke, tears well up in my eyes, I am being used and I fucking love every second, every thrust; from the first moment when Master C pushes his cock between my lips until the moment when I am choking down His cum.
I love being helpless. I love being utterly at His mercy. I love how uncomfortably wet my count becomes as Master C takes me as He pleases, using my mouth and throat as simply another hole to fuck and take His pleasure from. I am powerless, restrained, unable to resist Him, even if I wanted to; and I don’t. I am His to be owned; used as Master C chooses.
The head of His cock plugs my throat. His hand tightens around my neck. Breathing is almost impossible. Master C tells me that I am “a filthy slut” and He slaps my face hard as He fucks it.
I can taste Him… I can read the tell-tale signs…
Each word accompanied by a slap to my face; a thrust of His lovely cock in my throat. Each word reminding me of my place; a confirmation of my belonging to Him.
My cunt aches almost as much as my mouth.
Master C pulls out abruptly, and then I feel it; His warmth exploding over my skin. His cum trickles over my face, down my neck, over my boobs. I long to be able to rub it into my skin, to gather it in my fingers and taste it.
Master C unties my hands, strokes my hair. “Good girl” He whispers as He kisses me softly on the lips that, mere seconds before, were being abused by His cock.
I am His slut, and I am content in the knowledge that I have served Him well.