Master Class

by Jason Luke

  “Sorry,” she whispered again.

  “And there can’t be discipline without control… so fuck’n restrain yourself.”

  He swore. It was another shock. Clarissa felt herself on the verge of tears. She had underestimated the seriousness of Edge’s commitment to her training. She had expected that any orders he gave her would be little more than a prelude to sex. Now she had to readjust her expectations. The man meant business – and she had pledged to obey.

  “I apologize… Master, Please forgive me. I was overcome by arousal when you caressed me.”

  She had called him Master. Edge was only slightly mollified by the honorific; not enough to calm his temper. “You are property. Put yourself in that mindset. I’m not touching you to arouse you. I’m touching you because I own you, and I can do what I want with your body. Do you understand that?”

  “Yes, Master,” Clarissa swallowed down her nerves. “I do now.”

  Edge tempered the anger in his voice and made his tone reasonable. “I don’t care about your arousal, Clarissa. That’s not what I’m training you to respond to. I’m training you to obey and to respond to orders… and to do so without thinking, without hesitating. By touching you I am demonstrating your vulnerabilities – the things you must train yourself to ignore. Touch is a weakness for most submissive women; they respond too readily. I don’t want that, and nor will any Master. You have to discipline yourself to become immune to your own body’s sensations and to focus your mind on how you can best satisfy your Master. Your own pleasure will come… but it will arrive to you in unexpected ways – once you can get past your instinctive physical and emotional reactions.”

  It was too much explanation for Clarissa to absorb and understand. Edge knew that – but he also knew that with every fresh submissive, his authority must be exerted immediately, no matter how deliciously tempting the girl’s physical appeal. And this one – this young woman – was immensely appealing to him for reasons he wasn’t yet willing to explore. He didn’t doubt that part of her attraction was the ‘forbidden’ desire he had always had for Anna Wilkinson. But the rest of his attraction was pure animal instinct and raw lust. She was stunning and eager.

  That made her irresistible… when the time was right.

  Clarissa sensed Edge coming back towards her, circling her slowly and she vowed not to repeat her previous indiscretion. She stood perfectly still and worked to regulate her breathing. She was struggling with the tinderbox of her emotions; so many conflicting feelings that she knew could combust with a single spark. Another harsh word and she might cry. Another sensual touch and she might orgasm. Another wrong move and she might be punished…

  “When was the last time you had an orgasm?” Edge demanded abruptly.

  It never occurred to Clarissa to lie. “Earlier today,” she confessed.

  “Did you finger yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is that how you usually make yourself cum?”

  “Most of the time,” her embarrassment caught up with her at last, and her voice became bashful.

  “But not all the time?”

  “No.”

  “What else do you do to make yourself cum?”

  Edge kept circling her, drifting in and out of the shadows. The sound of his limping steps on the hard wood floor became a lulling kind of rhythm.

  “Sometimes… sometimes I use a dildo.” The admission made her cheeks scald hot with fresh color.

  “Why?”

  “I… I like the penetration,” Clarissa felt her humiliation complete. “I use a dildo and rub my clit.”

  “What do you fantasize about?”

  “Being fucked, Master.”

  “By someone in particular?”

  “No.”

  “By a stranger?”

  “Sometimes. And… and sometimes by groups of strangers.”

  “That turns you on? To be fucked by groups of men who are unknown to you?”

  Clarissa shuddered, appalled by the blatant confession of her own private perversion. She wished now that she had lied, but it was too late to take back what she had admitted. She felt wicked and depraved, but she nodded her head at last. “Yes. More than anything else.”

  She heard Edge hiss a small intake of breath, and Clarissa cringed with dread at what the man must think of her now that he knew her most decadent fantasies. She hung her head and her hair fell over her face like a veil.

  Edge thrust a hand out and captured one of her nipples between his fingers. Clarissa hadn’t seen the moment coming. She flinched involuntarily, then snapped herself back to rigid attention.

  Edge had stopped in front of her. He was close, and standing over her. Clarissa stared straight ahead at the broad of his chest.

  He was tugging at her nipple, gently but relentlessly drawing on the tender aroused flesh to simulate a suckling motion. Sparks of some deep feminine instinct were aroused that Clarissa struggled to understand. It was a new, muted sensation that was dully sexual. She opened her mouth and heard herself gasp.

  “Do you like that?”

  “Yes, Master,” she replied dutifully.

  Edge released the nipple from the clamp of his fingers and reached down to cup her pussy in the palm of his hand. Her warm wetness was a pleasant surprise to him.

  “Do you like that?”

  “Yes, Master.” Clarissa had tried valiantly to keep her response veiled by a monotonous tone, but her voice betrayed her. This time her answer was throatier, huskier.

  Edge smiled with cunning understanding. “Do you want to cum right now?”

  “Yes, Master… if it pleases you,” she added the final words to temper her own desire.

  Edge grunted. “You’ll have to earn it.”

  Clarissa had no idea how until she heard the sound of a zipper being drawn down. The small noise was loud in the silence.

  “Get on your knees,” Edge’s voice became suddenly thicker.

  Clarissa dropped obediently to her knees and opened her mouth. Her mind was racing faster even than her heart. She wondered if she could get Edge so aroused that he would shed his disciplined control and want to fuck her.

  But what if he did? The burner phone Congressman Jansing had given her was in her handbag in the hallway. There was no way she could capture the evidence she needed. Again, turmoil overwhelmed her. Anticipation, desire, panic… the witch’s brew of her emotions became a debilitating spell.

  She felt something hard and hot brush against her cheek, and her mind became silent. Primal instinct took over.

  Clarissa turned her head and took Edge’s cock between her lips. She held it there, captured in her mouth and resting heavy on her tongue. The thickness of him surprised and daunted her.

  “Suck me.”

  Clarissa obeyed. She had just a little experience, and she suddenly felt unsure of herself. She wondered how many women before her had been ordered to this task, and how each of them had fared. Did Edge compare each woman he trained? Would he dismiss her because she was inexperienced and inept?

  Clarissa was certain that a man like Edge would have enjoyed the pleasure of women who were far more skilled than her. She let out a last tremulous little sigh and tentatively swabbed her tongue along the thick ridged veins of his shaft.

  Edge grunted, but the sound was impatient. Clarissa tried to take him deeper into her mouth and began to bob her head slowly along the length of his shaft. She didn’t know what to do with her hands so she left them limp by her side. She heard the wet sounds of her saliva and felt drool trickle down her chin. She wiped it away with the tip of her finger and collapsed her cheeks to suck.

  Edge gave another frustrated sigh. He was standing before her with his legs braced, his hands on his hips. He had his eyes closed. He bucked his hips and felt the tip of his cock jam against the back of Clarissa’s throat. The girl gagged.

  “Come on!” Edge growled, demanding and letting his irritation begin to show. “You have to do better.”

  Cla
rissa swirled her tongue and concentrated her efforts on the first few inches of Edge’s cock, letting the length of him slide from her mouth and then clamping her lips tight. Her head moved back and forth as quick as she could manage. She felt the ridges of his shaft puffing and numbing her lips. She gasped to draw in fresh breath.

  Edge bucked his hips again, thrusting forward to sink himself deeper into her mouth. Clarissa wasn’t ready. She choked and let his cock slip from her mouth. Her eyes were watering, streaming slick trails down her cheeks. Edge growled again and then reached down into the darkness to cup a hand beneath her chin. He took her possessively, and Clarissa didn’t need to see the man’s face to know that he was disappointed in her efforts. She began to shake again. She smeared the tears from her face.

  “Not good enough,” Edge’s voice was blunt. “You’re not turning me on.”

  “I’m trying,” Clarissa said in a ragged breath.

  “Then you have to try harder.”

  He pressed his cock back against her lips, and she opened her mouth and took him back down her throat. It felt awkward. Edge’s cock was long and thick, and Clarissa felt intimidated by her lack of sexual skills. Edge wasn’t some teenage boy who could be brought to orgasm with a couple of wet kisses and a few minutes of tepid sucking. Edge was a worldly, experienced man. Clarissa didn’t have the skills to pleasure him.

  She persisted for a few more minutes, feeling her alarm rising with each passing second. Edge wasn’t hardening, and his cock didn’t clench or thicken between her lips. She seemed to be having no effect on him. She sat back at last and let his cock fall from her mouth. Her knees and jaw were aching. She slumped down with fatigue and defeat.

  Edge’s disappointment was palpable.

  In the dark, he crouched down on his haunches. He could see the outline of Clarissa’s face like a ghostly pale apparition.

  “You can’t suck cock,” he said flatly. “You don’t know what you’re doing. The way you used your mouth will never arouse a man because you don’t understand the sensations that bring pleasure.”

  She hung her head. Her bottom lip was trembling. She still had the warm musky taste of him on her tongue.

  “I’m sorry,” she muttered.

  Edge sighed. “You need more practice and I will make arrangements, but before I do that I want to ask you one last time – do you really feel a passion for submission and surrender?”

  “Yes,” she said without hesitation.

  Edge stood up and his voice was grim and resolved. “Then give yourself to me.”

  He brushed his cock against Clarissa’s lips, and she opened her mouth. Edge had the base of his cock gripped in one hand, guiding the length of his shaft. He pressed it into her mouth.

  “I want you to completely relax,” Edge insisted. “Make yourself limp and let all the tension go. Think of your mouth as a tight wet pussy. I want to use you.”

  Clarissa drew a deep breath around the cock in her mouth and closed her eyes. She forced the strain from her face and her upper body. The ache in her jaw seemed to ease. She felt her mouth open a little wider. Then she felt Edge clamp his hands on both sides of her head, covering her ears.

  Edge bucked his hips and Clarissa felt his hot cock saw across the flat of her tongue and stab the back of her throat. Her first reflex was to gag, but she fought back on the urge. Her eyes streamed with fresh tears and, as Edge withdrew his cock until just the tip was resting between her lips, more drool ran down her chin. This time she left it there. Her whole focus was no longer on creating pleasure with her mouth; now all her attention was fixed on relaxing herself and allowing him to use her. Somehow a slow sense of detached serenity draped itself over her like a warm blanket. When Edge thrust himself down her throat again, she barely registered the discomfort.

  “Better!” Edge hissed encouragement. He felt the muscles in his chest tighten and the first pulse of desire clench his cock. He thrust again, pressing himself deeply inside Clarissa’s mouth and holding himself there. Her mouth was wide open. He could feel the reflexive clench of the muscles in her throat. He was balanced on the balls of his feet. He counted to ten and then slowly withdrew his cock again. Clarissa gasped for a ragged lungful of breath like a drowning woman who had just broached the surface. Edge gave her just a few seconds and then thrust again. Clarissa took almost the full length of him. She felt the gentle warmth of his balls touch against her chin. The length of his cock felt like it was all the way down her throat. She began to panic. She felt the first flutter of terror that comes with the instinct of choking. Edge seemed to sense the moment. He withdrew his cock completely and she gasped in fresh breath. Her chin was awash with drool and Edge’s cock was coated and slippery and slick. He slid himself back into her open mouth, this time shortening the thrust and increasing the tempo of each lunge.

  Clarissa’s fear of choking faded. Her mouth hung slack. Her face was awash with tears and her lipstick was smeared, but she felt a rising sense of accomplishment. She could hear Edge’s grudging satisfaction in each grunt, and she could feel the thickening hardness of him.

  “Good girl,” Edge was cooing and soothing her as he slowly began to fuck her face. “That’s much better.”

  Clarissa forced the rest of her body to relax. She had bunched her hands into fists. Now she let her hands hang loose by her side. Edge was slowly building momentum, and the profound similarity between what he was doing to her mouth and what he might do to her tight virgin pussy was unmistakable and intensely arousing.

  Clarissa’s mind began to drift. Her face felt numb and no longer a part of her. She felt strangely detached. Her mind began to fill with images of dark men, lurking in the shadows and watching her perform. It sparked her own twinge of arousal, and instinctively she brushed one of her hands between her legs. The thought of being the sexual plaything for a group of unknown men took on its own intensity. She could see them all in her imagination – see them crowding closer and waiting their turn to use her. She felt her fingers tentatively brush against her clit, and even through the lace of her panties, the intensity of the sensation shocked her.

  Clarissa pressed her fingers hard against the lace and held it there. She groaned. It was barely a sound – muffled and gagged by Edge’s hard cock – but it vibrated from the back of her throat. She knew then that submission was truly the fetish of her deepest desires… and she knew also that serving just one man could never wholly satisfy her. It was the fantasy of being used by groups of strangers that struck a chord in her soul and resonated in a way that was overwhelming. Edge using her mouth for his pleasure was gratifying and fulfilling… but it was the thought of many others waiting their lustful turn with her that truly triggered her passion.

  There was no time then for her to dwell on the shocking scandal of her realization. Edge’s cock was driving in and out of her mouth with more determination, and Clarissa sensed that he was racing towards his orgasm. It gave her a thrill of gratification. She could feel the clamp of his hands tightening and she could hear the saw of his breath from his exertion. She still had her fingers pressing through her panties, teasing her clit. She opened her eyes. The darkness made it impossible to see the strain on Edge’s face, or the smoldering lust in his eyes. All she could see was the dark pumping bulk of his torso. Impulsively she reached up then and wrapped a hand around the back of his thigh as if to draw him deeper into her mouth. The fresh sensation – and the implied eager desire in her touch – made Edge growl. His cock was as hard as he had ever known it to be, the flesh burning hot and swollen with need. He threw back his head and cried out – then felt himself explode across Clarissa’s tongue.

  The intensity staggered Edge. His knees buckled and his cock pulsed a second time. He felt Clarissa’s lips clinch tight. He froze, straining and rigid for several seconds then began to wilt. He was gasping for air. Clarissa was too. The whole room seemed to fill with their exhausted sobs.

  After a long time, Edge felt the fog of his lust slowly clear and hi
s senses return. Clarissa was still kneeling quietly in the dark at his feet. He blinked and felt in the dark. His hand found her hair, and he stroked it to orientate himself. His fingers brushed across her face like a blind man discovering her features. Her face was wet and slick.

  “Did I please you, Master?” Clarissa’s voice seemed very small and uncertain in the shadows.

  “Yes,” Edge grunted. “That was very good.”

  Chapter 6:

  They stood in the hallway talking quietly. Clarissa was dressed, but her lips were still puffy, her makeup still smudged and smeared from the intense ordeal in the dark room. The tangy taste of Edge’s seed was still a flavor in the back of her mouth. Edge stood close to her, but somehow under the lights, the intimacy of what they had shared had dissolved. Now he was brusque and business-like.

  “Did you enjoy the experience?”

  “Yes, Master,” Clarissa nodded. It was true. The time she had spent surrendering herself to Edge had been a cataclysmic turning point in her life – so much so that she had temporarily forgotten the purpose of her being there.

  “Very well. Your next task will be tomorrow night.”

  “Yes, Master.” Clarissa was desperate for reassurance that she had pleased him and craved his praise… but she was reluctant to confront him with the question lest it fire his wrath. The only comfort she had was the memory of his cry when he had cum in her mouth, and the tender way he had touched her in the moments afterwards. “What time shall I arrive?”

  “The next session will not be held here,” Edge said. “I’ll message you the details tomorrow. Do you have a car?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. You will need it.”

  Clarissa sat back in the rear seat of the cab, physically exhausted but sexually invigorated. Her mind returned to the dark room scene with Edge – at first replaying the intensity of the moment when she had allowed herself to surrender, and the subsequent force of Edge’s orgasm. Then she began to dwell on the deeper fantasy; the trigger for the damp tingling wetness that still ached for attention between her thighs.