Guess she wants it pretty bad...

So here you sit, in a specially-prepared room of your giant mansion, while your personal assistant sits across a desk from Melissa in the next room, explaining how her mortgage is now owned by an anonymous figure from her past, who is willing to write off the whole six-figure balance of the note in exchange for twenty-four hours of her time. All she has to do is follow your every command for the next day, and the house is hers, free and clear. Will she take the bait? You knew it would take some time, but the wait is agonizing, as is the massive erection you're sporting at the thought of what might be coming.

The door opens, and you have your answer. Melissa steps into the dimly-lit room, squinting to see your figure in the gloom, as your assistant closes and locks the door behind her.

"Hello?" she says, her voice trembling. She stumbles a bit as her heel catches on the edge of the rug.

"Hello Melissa. There is a washroom beyond the door to your left. Go in, and change into the outfit you find there. When you return, you should be wearing nothing except what you find in that room. There is a shelf for you to store your clothes and jewelry."

"Who are you?" She makes no move to the washroom.

"I thought the rules were explained to you, but obviously you need to be reminded. For the next 24 hours, you do not ask questions. You do not leave the room. You obey every command without hesitation. You do not resist me in anything I do. Is all this clear, or do you have some other source of income to pay off what you owe?"

She turns without a word toward the washroom door. "Stop! I asked you a question. Is this clear?"

"Yes," she replies, in a mousy voice, over her shoulder.

"Stop!" She stops, but does not turn around. "Face me, and answer my question in a clear, intelligible voice."

She turns, swallows a lump in her throat, then answers clearly, "Yes."

"That's better, but from now on, you should address me as 'Master'. Understood?"

You wish so dearly that you could see her face clearly, as you can almost hear her lip quiver. "Yes...Master." Your throbbing cock twitches at the sound of that word from her luscious mouth. It takes you a moment to realize that she seems to have forgotten to move to the washroom.

"Go. Now."

"Yes, Master." She turns and opens the washroom door, and you can clearly hear a sob escape her throat as she fumbles for the light switch. Your dick swells again. At this rate you may cum before she touches you!

Finally, she emerges from the washroom, wearing an exact copy of that stuffy suit she sometimes wore to class and always wore in your fantasies: white satin blouse, white linen jacket and skirt, cut just below the knee, white pantyhose, and white pumps. She looks like she's ready to stand beside her husband on the stage of that ritzy church and sing hymns to the lord. You **** yourself to think of anything but how often you've fucked her in that outfit in your mind. Your balls are aching to spill their seed in her, and this next moment is going to be so much fun!

You flick on the lights, revealing your face and your naked body to her. Her eyes pop out of their sockets.

"John Doe!" she exclaims. "But how...?"

You want to cackle with insane laughter and explain it all to her, just like a villain in a cheesy melodrama, but you control the urge. You manage a stern look. "Is that a question, Melissa?"

She regains herself quickly, if not fully. "No."

"No what?"

"No, Master."

"That's better." She manages to pull her eyes away from your face and your cock, and looks around the sizable room for the first time. Her eyes dance in horror from one device to another. The room is furnished like a medieval **** room, recreated in twenty-first century materials, with other contraptions she surely couldn't be asked to identify. Amid this collection are a few items that seem decidedly out of place, such as a dining table with two place settings and two chairs, a claw-foot bathtub, and a massive four-poster bed littered with fluffy pillows of different sizes and shapes, among others.

"Do you like what I've done with the place?" Her mouth moves, trying to formulate a response, but nothing comes out. "I know, it's probably not your taste, but hell, that's not the point anyway, is it?"

There is a long silence as she slowly dawns on the realization that she is going to be subjected to a series of new experiences using these devices, and the gears in her mind begin to turn. She starts to plead with you. "John..."

You shush her, and beckon with a curling finger for her to follow you toward a simple straight chair padded with red patent leather and sporting a matching pad directly in front of it. As you seat yourself in the chair, you say, "I'm going to take it easy on you to start off. Surely you've sucked a guy off before, if only that pitiful excuse for a husband you used to have."

She shakes her head nervously as she looks down at you, her eyes transfixed on your throbbing erection. "You mean to tell me you've never wrapped those pert little lips around a hard dick before?"

"I-I-I mean, I have, um," she sighs, trying to catch her breath, "I...did that...before, but I never...let, um..."

"Oh, so you've sucked dick, but you never tasted cum, is that it?" She nods. "Well, there's a first time for everything. On your knees, bitch!"

She reacts like you've slapped her hard across the face, then scurries down ungracefully, having to hitch her tight skirt up over her knees to get into position. She reaches up tentatively with her hand, and you can't resist. You grab her wrist and pull it swiftly and firmly up to your crotch, wrapping her petite little fingers with their flawless French-manicured nails around the base of your pulsing cock. "Get a firm grip, whore. We wouldn't want it to slip out of your mouth and splash a bunch of sticky jism in your eyes, would we?" She blinks in reply, frozen in place, unable to bring herself to go further. "I asked you a question, you worthless slut. Do you want my cum covering your face?"

"N-N-No, Master." She is on the verge of tears. It is priceless. You have to push it further.

"Where do you want my cum, you filthy cunt?" The mention of the dreaded C-word hits her like an earthquake. Got to file that one for later...

"I-I-I don't know. Wherever you want it, I guess. Master." Just a little further, and the tears will begin streaming. You begin to move her hand on your cock, very slowly up and down.

"Come on now, you're a smart girl. Where do you think I want it?" You take a bead of pre-cum from the head of your dick and smear it on the soft flesh of her fingertips. Her eyes shoot to your crotch, and the full reality of the situation dawns on her. Her lip is quivering. God, you need to cum soon!

"In...my mouth?"

"Yes, my little fucktoy. I want to spill my hot load over your tongue and down that prim little throat of yours, for you to taste and swallow. Now, can you guess the answer to my question? Where do you want my cum, you filthy cunt?" Another flinch. Yes! Soft spot!

She closes her eyes and answers, "I want you to cum in my mouth."

You scream at her, "Open your eyes when you address your Master, cunt!"

She opens her eyes, and the tears pour out as she replies, "I want you to cum in my mouth, Master!" Perfection!

Suddenly, you grab her hair with your free hand and **** her mouth down around your cock. "Then swallow it, bitch!" She wraps her soft lips around it and squeals as you pump her head and hand in unison up and down your shaft. The sensation of her wet tongue and hot breath on your dick is amazing, better than your imagined, and you begin shooting what feels like rivers of cum into her throat almost immediately. She gags on it, but you use both hands now to keep a firm grip on her hair as your ass lifts uncontrollably off the chair, spasmodically clenching as you pump more and more of your hot spunk down her throat.

When your massive load is finally spent, you release your grip on Melissa's hair and she tumbles backward onto the floor, glistening with sweat, tears, and your seed that has spilled out of her mouth to cover her cheeks, chin, and throat. She lies before you, gasping for air.

"Get off the floor and go into the washroom. Clean yourself up and fix your hair. Just because you're a filthy slut doesn't mean you have to look the part. Get moving, whore. Be back in five minutes" Melissa lifts her head to look at you incredulously for a moment, then obeys. While she's in the washroom, you take the opportunity to plan your next adventure with her...