Sex

Hiroshi showed up at her home for a 'study' session, but he brought candles a blindfold, Carrie noticed.

"Hey Senpai!" she said brightly, and then got down onto all fours, kissing Hiroshi's shoes. Her neighbor came out his paper, and looked at Hiroshi enviously. Carrie was wearing a black choker with Hiroshi's name on it.

Hiroshi walked into her condo, and Carrie padded behind him like an animal.

"I thought we'd do something different today," Hiroshi said. He pulled out the blindfold, affixing it over Carrie's eyes.

"Pretty tame, Senpai. Are we on the clock, are off?" That was their code phrase. On the clock, he was Master. Off the clock, he was her senpai.

"Off the clock, pet," he said. Off the clock, she was pet. On the clock, she was ****.

Every part of her was sensitive. Her nipples, her clit. She ached for him constantly. Yet he'd kept her sexless now for months. It was the worst kind of sadism, she thought.

He lit the candle. There was a citrus smell to it.

"Pretty tame, Senpai," Carrie joked. Hiroshi did not laugh.

"You see only what I want you to see," he said. "Nothing. You smell only what I have chosen for you to smell." She thought about that for a moment, her lips parting. He placed a ripe strawberry between them.

"You taste only what I see fit for you to taste. And you feel only what I have chosen for you to feel." First his hand, slapping hard against her ass. And then ... fuck ... his cock. Carrie bit her lower lip. Her pussy instantly creamed as Hiroshi buried his seven inch prick inside her. She was virgin tight again, and she felt him build a steady, controlled clip as he fucked her.

"Mine," he said simply.

"Yours, Senpai," she said.

"On the clock."

"Yours, my Master."