Blackie’s been away for days. When he returned home, but he didn’t say a word to me.
What have I done? I wonder.
He sits in his chair and just waits.
I sit at his feet, hoping to appease.
This is the scene when Marc arrives.
He greets Blackie with a quick hello. Blackie nods as Marc sits in his own chair.
Silence engulfs the room; uncertainty sits on my shoulders, and a chill runs down my back causing me to physically shudder.
“Strip, holes,” orders Marc.
I nervously stand and begin to undress. First the t-shirt, which I begin to fold.
“No time for that, holes,” Marc barks. “Just leave them on the floor.”
I drop the top, peel down the straps of my bra and reach around my back. When I unclasp it, it falls to the floor. I unbutton my jeans, shrug them off my hips, let gravity do the rest. I hook my thumbs in the waistband of my pink panties and tug them down until they lay nestled into and on top of the jeans. I step out of the clothes at my feet, then use my toes to remove my little white socks.
“Crawl here, holes,” Marc commands.
I hate crawling, especially to him. Reflexively my eyes seek Blackie, some unconscious desire to have him save me… Or seeking his approval. But his face is stone.
So I sink to my knees and begin to crawl the 12 feet to where he sits.
It seems like a mile in the silence.
Just before I reach him he raises his hand, like you do with a dog, ordering me to sit.
I do.
“Been awhile since you’ve had an orgasm, I hear,” Marc rhetorically asks, amused.
I say nothing. It’s not like I was actually asked a question.
“Been awhile since you’ve even had a hand laid on you too,” he continues his mocking. “Bet you’re aching for it.”
I remain silent. My thoughts more on what Blackie’s thinking than anything else — until Marc speaks again.
“Ask me to fuck you in the ass.”
I hate being fucked in the ass. It hurts. Plus, Blackie never fucks me in the ass — which makes me think it’s dirty and I’ve no desire to appear a dirty used whore fucked in the ass in front of him.
“Say it,” Marc says, with that threatening tone in his voice.
This time I’m afraid to look at Blackie. I know this must be some sort of a test — a combination punishement test. I’m afraid of disappointing him. And afraid of disgusting him too.
Keeping my eyes lowered I quietly say, “Please fuck me in the ass.”
“Ask me properly…” Marc says. I can hear the arch of his eyebrows in his voice.
I sigh and manage to say what he wishes, “Please, Marc, fuck me in my asshole”
“If you want it that bad, then assume the position,” he replies.
I turn around on my knees, put the side of my face on the floor — facing away from Blackie, place my hands on my ass cheeks and spread them.
