I met her at a dingy bar on the edge of town. She was twenty-eight, sharp eyes, full lips painted dark red, and she didn’t waste time. “You look like you need someone to own you,” she said, sliding her hand straight down to grab my cock through my jeans. I was already hard. She squeezed once, hard enough to make me grunt, then let go. “My place. Now. You’ll be my gulam tonight. No safe words unless I feel like giving them.”
Her apartment was small, clean, and smelled like her perfume mixed with leather. The moment the door closed she shoved me to my knees. “Strip. Everything off. Fold your clothes and put them by the door like the obedient bitch you’re going to be.” I did it fast, cock already leaking. She watched with her arms crossed, then kicked my clothes aside with her boot. “Crawl to the bedroom.”
She made me lie on my back on the bed and tied my wrists to the headboard with soft rope that still bit when I pulled. My ankles stayed free so she could spread me however she wanted. She stripped slow, letting me watch her heavy tits and the trimmed strip of hair between her legs. Then she climbed on, straddling my face. “Lick. Don’t stop until I tell you.”
Her pussy was already wet. I pushed my tongue deep, tasting salt and heat, and she ground down hard, using my mouth like a toy. She rocked her hips, clit rubbing my nose, and started talking dirty in a low voice. “That’s it, my little girl ka gulam. Eat this cunt like you were born for it. You’re nothing but a tongue and a cock tonight.” When she came the first time she flooded my mouth, thighs shaking, and didn’t lift off until she was ready.
She turned around without warning and took my cock in her hand, stroking it once, twice, then swallowing it to the root. She sucked like she was punishing me, teeth grazing just enough to keep me on edge. Every time I got close she pulled off and slapped my balls.
“Not yet. Slaves don’t come until their owner says.” She did that three times until my thighs were trembling and pre-cum was dripping down my shaft.
Finally she climbed on, sank down on my cock in one smooth motion, and started riding. Hard. Her ass slapped against my thighs, her nails dug into my chest. “Look at you, tied up and used. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be girl ka gulam, my personal fuck toy.” She leaned forward and spat in my mouth. I swallowed without thinking. She laughed low and dirty, then reached back and squeezed my balls again while she bounced on my dick.
She came twice more, clenching around me, before she finally untied one wrist and told me to jerk myself while she watched. “Come on your stomach. Don’t you dare get any on me.” I stroked fast, desperate, and shot thick ropes across my own abs while she smiled down at me. When I was done she dragged her fingers through the mess and fed it to me. “Good boy. Clean it up.”
She left me tied for another hour after that, occasionally coming back to stroke my softening cock or sit on my face again. By the time she untied me completely my arms were numb and my mind was blank except for the taste of her and the ache in my balls. She tossed me my clothes and said, “Same time next week. Don’t be late, or I’ll make it worse.”
I walked out still tasting her on my tongue, already hard again just thinking about it. I knew I’d be back. I was hers now.
