You just...you just can't do it

You feel terrible. On today's morning you were a little nervous, but still full of hope. And now...you know that you are done, you know that you can't fight him. And you fucking loved that orgasm. So before he manages to do anything you throw yourself at his feet and beg pathetically:

"Sir...please?"

"Please what?" he asks a little surprised.

"Please...take...me...as...your...****" your voice it not much louder than a whisper.

"What?" he asks "Speak louder. And look at me when you are talking to me."

You are gonna die. You can't, you really CAN'T say that. But you have to. So you look at him, you clearly see a triumph in his eyes, hour later it would hurt you too see that, but now...it doesn't matter. You lost. So you can as well let him has his joy, he earned it.

"Ma...Master" you stutter, but after that the words flow out of your mouth "take me as your ****".

Fuck, that sounded really pathetic. On the other hand, if you are a **** now, maybe you should sound pathetic. Anyway for a moment it seems that he is happy, but then he says:

"You are asking for much. I don't know if you deserve it."

You barely register his words. But...but that's what he wanted, right, you as his ****? So why...why doesn't he just use you anyway he wants?

"Convince me, that you deserve to be my ****."

In your state its really hard to form a coherent thought, and its borderline impossible for you to express it loudly. So you do the first thing that comes to your mind - you crawl to him and reach to his trousers. It seems that it is enough to convince him, because he smiles and says softly:

"Good girl."