Daily Life

Amanda struggled to keep her lips sealed around the butt plug in her mouth. It was just wide enough to be difficult but not so wide as to be impossible. Her master knew her limits well. The repeated thrusts of his member deep inside of her ass added to the difficulty of the situation, but there was nothing she could do about it. With her legs up on his shoulders she was pinned until he finished and her plug was returned to it's normal place. She could see the flush rising in his face as he thrusted in and out and knew he was close, thankfully he never lasted as long in her ass as he could in her pussy. Long, gooey strings of lube connected his balls to her as he withdrew before one again thrusting deep inside of her.

"Are you ready for your load whore?" He asked between breaths. She nodded meekly. He let go of her left leg, leaned in, and pulled the butt plug from her mouth with a wet "pop." "I want to hear you say it, tell me you want my load." Amanda complied "Please cum in my ass master, I want to feel you cum deep inside of me. Please fill me." Suddenly he pinned her legs to her side, thrust deep inside of her and finished, flooding her gut with his seed. Spent, he collapsed on top of her, his softening dick still lodged within her ass. "Thank you for your seed master." she whispered delicately into his ear. With another groan he lifted himself and withdrew his flaccid penis from within her. A small rivulet of cum followed, leaking onto the bedspread beneath them. Without being bid, Amanda quickly retrieved the butt plug and worked it back into her rapidly closing ass. The master liked to know there was no way for his load to escape her.

She waited on her back until she heard the sound of the shower from his bathroom before she rolled off the bed to get herself ready for her day. Bending over she grabbed from the floor her bottoms, sheer purple fabric held around her waist with thin gold chain. She slid them up her slender legs until they rested around her shapely hips. The material was so thin it left nothing to the imagination, hugging the folds of her mound as if it were pasted there. Between her legs and up her rear it ran, wedged between her cheeks and ending just short of covering her entire rear. Over her head she slipped her top which consisted of two triangular patches of the same materiel held by the same gold chains. One chain ran between them at the back, another between them at the front, and the third looped around her head and ended at the top of each triangle. When properly arranged they too left nothing to imagine and barely managed to keep her breasts in any kind of place. In fact they kept nothing in place, they functioned more as simple coverings than any real benefit to her.

But the outfit wasn't about her. Just like the butt plug wasn’t about her. It was about him and what he wanted. Her whole life now revolved around that. From what she wore to what she ate and everything in between her entire life revolved around him. She was living the life that she’d chosen, a life as his personal ****.