Bought By The Billionaire

… I pour icy champagne down the length of my Master’s back. He yelps, standing suddenly, bolt upright. I collapse into a fit of giggles, making no resistance as my Master grabs me and spins me, bending me over the back of a chair, pulling my ass up and out. Looking backward through a waterfall of my own long red hair, I catch a glimpse of his expression; laughing/stern. He tries to maintain his poise and authority, but is having difficulty.

His hand sweeps down on my derriere, slapping hard against one cheek, making me gasp and jump. But my pussy flutters a welcome.

“That, Elizabeth,” he says “Was very naughty. I am going to have to change my plans on what I had in mind for you today.”

“I’m sorry Master.” I splutter to stop myself from laughing. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Slap! The hand comes down on the other cheek, stinging. “I’m not going to stop this now,” he continues, “Until your rear end matches your hair.”

Since my hair is brilliantly red, my butt is in for some hard attention. At the thought, my clit begins to pulse. How far will my Master take this?

Slap! This time, the slap is followed by my Master repositioning me, forcing my ankles further apart with his shoe, bending me further forward and pulling open my butt cheeks to fully expose my pink and swelling, pussy and clit.

Dropping to his knees behind me, my Master stretches me open with his fingers, licking out the inside of my pussy, sucking up my flowing juices. I moan ecstatically as my inner muscle quiver and jump.

Then he stands and slaps again, first one, already glowing, cheek, then the other.

Twice more, he spanks, moving his hand to different areas of skin. Then he drops again, this time lapping his tongue over my twitching clit. He whirls his tongue in circles, winding the swollen nub in spirals that, with each circuit, send electricity sparking through my core.

Then again, he stands and slaps.

He develops a kind of rhythm, standing and kneeling, spanking and sucking, slapping and licking. Again, and again he repeats this. My abused ass is glowing, my honeyed clit rhapsodic.

I am incandescent, afire, wailing my mounting arousal and my Master works his magic on me.

Abruptly, he breaks his rhythm.

Standing again, instead of spanking me, he unzips, pulling out his long, thick cock, and plunges deep inside my slick passage, ramming home. His arms encircling me, he reaches for my clit and, over my screeches, starts tweaking and kneading, flicking and rotating, all the while pumping me from behind.

in my Master’s firm grasp as he continues slamming my molten cunt. Seconds later, I feel and hear his climax also. He drives home into me, balls bouncing against me and hips grinding as he shudders me full

ass one last time. “Not bad

*****

the figure standing next to me, then start in surprise. It is Ross, resplendent in a fully-fledged butler’s uniform and holding

know you were a butler too.

a moment, speaking quietly. “About

sophisticated, but know that I am failing. Ross and I have been solid friends for some while, and he knows me

think he gathers the gist

Mr Haswell.” protests

then take the rest of the

stays silent, but nods his head in acknowledgement, clearly ‘taking

twenty - my Master and I sit together at one end, candlelit and

for my ‘wedding present’.” he smiles. “I’ll enjoy it more as we make use of it again later.” He winks at me, and a

in fact,” he continues, “I have a wedding present for

“Oooh. What is it?”

I take it and look at it a bit blankly. I’d been

it.” he says,

document. I read the top few lines. “Register of

read on. It is the ownership document for some property or other. I don’t understand what I’m looking

my Master. “What is

the title deeds

be worth…… millions. Speechless,

to you before Elizabeth, I am older than you. Quite a lot older. I want you to be secure. It was difficult before, to gift you property. There are all sorts of complications with tax and so

It’s an amazing house. But, I thought, well, I just assumed, that you had rented it

his hands in a ‘Well don’t blame