Establishing Ownership

Vanessa gave in partway through the night, and hugged Mister Fluffy to her naked body. It was the only comfort Brand had allowed her, after spending the remainder of her evening cleaning the house then getting roughly fucked up the ass.

Brand's house. He had called it his. Vanessa hadn't argued, hadn't even dared clench her fists or shoot him an angry look after what had happened earlier. She had just cleaned, supervised by Brand. Molested by Brand. Cleaned the drying flower petals in the hallway and the stairs, cleaned what urine she hadn't been able to suck out of the carpet. She got a cracker when she finished a task, something her stomach desperately needed. She cleaned more - the toilets and kitchen and the rest of her house. His house.

Whoever owned the place that she lived and raised a daughter in and payed a mortgage on.

Her ass was Brand's too. He had claimed it. Told Vanessa it was his, right before pulling her tail out and putting his cock inside her back entrance. He told her it was a little distended. She responded by burying her head in her sheets and sobbing. She did clench her fists when he stuck her, balled them up and tore at the cotton beneath her. But she had taken every inch of him inside her, and thanked him for lubricating her asshole. She sucked him clean afterwards, and really was thankful of her earlier enema when she slurped the sticky mess of cum and lubrication off Brand's dick. Vanessa had done her best, swirling her tongue around his half-hard member, cupping and sucking his hairy balls, sucking more mess out of Brand's pubic hair. She had been rewarded by hardly getting throat fucked at all. Brand laid with Vanessa a short time afterwards - fondly and kindly petting her hair, and down the scratches on her back.

He told her she was a good girl. He put her tail back up her butt before leashing her to the bedpost, and telling the African American professional that she would sleep at the side of the bed, on the floor, by the other dog. Mister Fluffy.

Vanessa... she just needed to sleep. To process the day, the sheer number of times she had...

She, she needed to sleep. Her body and her mind both desperately needed to recover. Laying on the carpeted floor by her bed, Brand's bed, collared and chained to the bedpost, Vanessa hugged Mister Fluffy's warm, furry body to her. Part pillow, part support, part warm softness... it helped.

But not enough to sleep. She hadn't cum after her assfuck. And after having orgasmed multiple times already, she needed yet another. Tossing and turning with Mister Fluffy in her arms, the problem didn't go away. Vanessa faced her daughter's stuffed dog away from her, so his glass eyes couldn't see her, and fingered herself, while Brand snored softly above her.

She fingered herself... and she pulled lightly on her tail with the other hand. Even with her butthole being so recently abused it... she tried not to think about it. She just... she needed to sleep. She gently fingered, she quietly pulled, and she came with a few muffled little gasps. The warm itch in her belly settled. She settled...

Crying once again, she hugged Mister Fluffy to her chest, shameful lust even more shamefully sated. At last , though,Vanessa could turn off her mind. She could finally...

She finally drifted off...

She slept...

A needed... A dreamless sleep.

A sleep that she needed more than -

...!

What The Fuck!? "MMMph!"

Vanessa's beautiful brown eyes fluttered open to a face full of foot, crudely mashing her features. Brand's foot, planted right on her face.

"You masturbated last night, didn't you?"

Barely awake, barely functioning, barely remembering her new life Vanessa struggled against her chain. Brand's unoccupied foot stepped on it heavily, completing her lack of mobility. He shifted his foot back and forth on her face, mashing her features one way and then the other. The question slowly echoed in her groggy mind.

Masturbated?

Vanessa opened her mouth to the bottom of Brand's foot to answer before she even knew what she would say. Before she even remembered...

She did. She remembered. The ebony executive recalled her restless attempts at sleep. Being so worked up after being claimed... after her ass was drilled that she had to... to cum, to bring herself down.

She had really done that. She didn't want to admit that!

She was afraid not to.

The choice was taken away from her. Brand's foot found her open mouth, and entered it. Vanessa squealed, and gagged as his toes found her throat.

Brand held out his hand and tipped his fingers towards him, signalling she was to give him... "Hands."

Still gagging, mouth stretched, the distressed black woman waved her hands in the air. Brand seized one and... sniffed deep.

"Smells like you." Brand stated flatly. He dropped her hand forcefully, his face was disgusted. Brand looked down at Vanessa, "One more time, did you masturbate last night?"

"Mpheesh!" Vanessa nodded vigorously. God help her, she had.

Brand barked out a brief laugh. He shook his head in seeming disbelief at the black woman sucking on his foot. He removed his wet foot from her mouth, and again stepped on Vanessa's injured, swollen face. "Lick."

Vanessa swallowed the taste of foot in her mouth, and wrinkled her nose. She tentatively flicked out her tongue and licked the sole of Brand's foot.

"What are you trying to do? Tickle me? Harder."

Vanessa laid the broad top of her tongue against Brand's foot and, shuddering, licked up its length. Harder. She kissed it and licked again.

She felt the soft thing between her legs twitch in response.

She hated herself.

"Kneel." Brand pulled at Vanessa's chain. Her bitch collar. She slowly raised her body to meet Brand's demand.

"Show me your tits." The black woman's full breasts were already bare. She leaned back her shoulders a bit. Brand shook his head, "How am I supposed to see those saggy things, way down there? Cup them. Show them to me properly."

Brand's insult cut through the remaining cobwebs stuck to Vanessa's mind. She almost protested that her breasts were far from saggy! A least... considering her age... her breastfeeding.

...She hadn't even protested licking Brand's foot. Jesus, she cared more about the image of her breasts than her dignity. The dignified forty-one year old's lip trembled like a little girl, and she cupped her breasts, presenting them to Brand while she knelt, collared.

"Better. You're learning, aren't you?"

Vanessa swallowed. She was -

With a loud crack! Brand slapped her face, hard and without warning. Vanessa's face jerked to the side. Her hair became a disheveled veil covering her eyes.

"I asked you a question."

"Yes!" Vanessa hissed angrily. She looked down at her breasts, still... still held in her hands. She had made no reflexive move to defend herself. "Yes..." She said, much more mildly.

"What is that you're saying 'yes' to, slut?"

Vanessa flipped her head to the side, removing some of the hair from her eyes. She swallowed.

"Yes... yes I'm learning. Sir."

Brand assisted Vanessa, removing the strands of hair from her face. Smoothing it back. He pet her cheek with the back of his nails, where he had most recently slapped her.

"Open your mouth," The white man instructed Vanessa quietly.

She did. She opened wide in front of Brand, showing him the deep pink inside of her mouth, her white teeth. She unconsciously straightened her back and lifted her breasts a little higher.

Brand reached in with his thumb, and stroked Vanessa's tongue. He cupped Vanessa's chin and circled her thick lips with the moistened digit.

"I own your ass." Brand stated flatly. Vanessa felt her anal sphincter squeeze the buttplug tail he had left inside her.

"I own this mouth." Brand pinched and pulled gently on her bottom lip, stretching it before the gentle tension broke his grasp.

His hand went lower, to her breasts. The breasts that Vanessa was presenting. He ran his fingers over the top of their brown expanse, squeezing... "I own these too." He squeezed a little harder, pulling before letting go.

He paused, and leaned back. He maneuvered a foot between Vanessa's thighs, and raised it until the bridge touched her soft, hairy... the kneeling, open-mouthed negress suppressed a throaty little gasp.

"What else do you think I own?"

Vanessa's eyes flicked down. She... couldn't nod or shake her head. It wasn't a yes or no question. Was she supposed to answer with her mouth open like -

"You can close your mouth to answer." Brand's voice was clearly amused at Vanessa's momentary predicament.

She was so, so pathetic. Vanessa closed her mouth.

"You... own my..." Vanessa hesitated, at a loss for words. Her... vagina? She - she realized she really, really didn't want to say this. Even after all that had happened, she couldn't **** out the words. Couldn't vocalize Brand's claim over her womanhood. Couldn't even find the right words, and the words that came to mind stuck in her throat.

"Hump." Brand supplied.

He owned her 'hump'? O-oh. Oh.

Vanessa's confusion lasted only a split second. Hump. She started moving her hips, grinding her parts on Brand's foot, back and forth along his-

"You're very wet."

That was hardly news to Vanessa. She was fucking gushing. She was such a -

"Go on. Say it."

Her arousal-induced self-loathing spell broken, Vanessa looked up. She looked at Brand's handsome face and slid up... and down. "You own my cunt," She told Brand's serious gray eyes. It was much easier to say the words, to think the words while she was humping like a... a bitch.

"You own my pussy, Sir," Brand's serious expression changed to a self-satisfied smirk, and Vanessa's self-loathing was back, full ****. It didn't stop her from circling her hips... biting her lip. If anything it only made her -

The colored woman gasped shamefully, feeling sick. Sick and... she leaned forward, so her clit hit the ridge of Brand's foot directly. He pressed it up. Vanessa pressed herself down.

She, she was going to -

"Nuh-uh." Brand took his foot away.

What?! Vanessa almost screamed her protest out loud before clamping her mouth shut. Her feet kicked the floor behind her.

Brand laughed at her clear display of distress. "Stop pouting and look at me."

Pouting?! She... Vanessa... gritted her teeth instead of pouting. She shook her head, and looked up at Brand.

"I own you. I own your holes. You can't be trusted with them. Look at you." Brand looked down at Vanessa. She couldn't see her face... but she looked down. She was still holding her breasts. Her chain leash snaked along the floor. The air was perfumed with her feminine scent, her hair was wild, she was still wearing yesterday's makeup, surely with streaks coming from her from all her crying. Her lip and eye were injured and puffy...

"Just look at you," Brand repeated, disgusted.

When she looked into Brand's eyes, her fears, her thoughts about herself were confirmed. The look he was giving her... but it was his fault! God damn him! It was him, his fault but...

It was Vanessa's body coming apart. Her mind. Her self. Vanessa finally dropped her tits. They flopped against her chest.

She resisted the sudden, almost overwhelming urge to slap them.

God! Why would she even... What was she thinking?! What was wrong with her?! God damn her!

"You are not to cum unless you get permission. You'll ask, and you'll cum when you get it, or you'll pay. Last night was the last time."

"Do you understand?"

It was a blow to the pit of Vanessa's stomach. She really, really needed to... finish. Her engorged pussy twitched madly. She... maybe she could get permission, just this time. Figure out later how serious Brand was later.

"I understand," Vanessa whispered, "I understand, Sir. May I please, please cu-"

"No." Brand cut Vanessa off harshly. "But you will clean this mess off my foot. Jesus, 'Nessa, what the fuck? Just look at that." Brand waggled his foot at Vanessa. The top, the toes, they were coated in her arousal.

Vanessa hesitated only a moment, staring at the slick, wriggling appendage that she was somehow supposed to suck clean. A moment, but that was long enough for Brand to grab her directly by her collar and tug her into place.

She needed to take some weight off her sore knees. The black executive got down on elbows and shifted her legs back, briefly brushing Mister Fluffy's forgotten, prone form. She took Brand's big toe into her mouth, and sucked it into her dark lips.

She started bobbing her head. She could feel her daughter's stuffed dog staring at her from behind. Staring at her backside, while she was on all fours.

Neither bobbing her head nor Mister Fluffy's glassy stare made Vanessa want to cum any less.