This story was automatically created with AI support. All characters are adults. 18+.
The sun burned mercilessly on my skin as I walked along the narrow, dusty path to the farm. It was a place that had forgotten time, where the air was heavy and sweet with flowers, freshly cut grass, and the unmistakable smell of stable and hay. I had lived here many years ago, before I moved to the hectic city to pursue my career as a yoga teacher. Now I was back to find myself, to recover from the strains of everyday life – and to put myself in the hands of the man who had once dominated me so completely. The farm had always been a refuge, but also a place of temptation. As I entered the yard, I saw him standing there immediately, legs apart, hands on his hips, his gaze fixed firmly on me. It was Alexander, the man who had changed my life forever. He had grown older, a few gray strands in his thick hair, but his eyes still had that commanding, penetrating look that made me shiver to my core.
His name was Alexander, and we had met many years ago, when I was still a young, insecure girl. He was my mentor, my teacher, but above all, my Dominus. I was his sub, his devoted slave, his willing lover. Our relationship was complex, a dance of power and control, of submission and pain. He was the sun around which I revolved like a planet. I was his property. When I saw him now, I felt my skin begin to tingle, my heart start to pound wildly. I knew I was in danger, that I would fall into his clutches again. But I couldn’t help it. I was addicted to him, to his overwhelming power, to his absolute control over my body and my mind.
I walked slowly towards him, my feet shuffling over the gravel of the yard. I lowered my gaze, just like before. When I stood before him, there was a heavy silence. Then he spoke, his voice deep and rough, like velvet on stone: “Welcome back, my little whore.” The sentence hit me like an electric shock. A wave of arousal, mixed with shame, flooded my body. My heart raced. My pussy became wet, just from his words alone. He saw my reaction, a slight, knowing smile playing on his lips. “You missed me, didn’t you, you horny cunt?” he asked. I just nodded silently. “Then come.” He turned and went into the house, without checking to see if I followed. He knew I would. I was his shadow, his possession.
Inside, everything was just as it had been years ago. The smell of old wood, leather, and his musky scent. It was as if time had never existed here. Without further ado, he led me into his bedroom, into our old realm of the senses. The bed was large, a massive oak bed with white, fresh sheets that reminded me of the purity of an altar on which I would be sacrificed. He stood before me, his eyes burning into my soul. “Undress, my slave. I want to see what the city has done to your body.” My fingers trembled as I pulled my thin summer dress over my head. It fell to the floor. Underneath, I wore only a sheer, white slip. “Everything,” he commanded softly. I pushed the slip over my hips and stood completely naked before him, hands at my sides, head bowed. I felt like a piece of meat at a market, like a valuable object being examined and appraised. And I loved it.
Alexander let his gaze wander slowly over my body. Over my flat stomach, my firm breasts with their hard, erect nipples, down to the triangle of dark hair between my legs. “You still have that horny body,” he murmured and stepped closer. “But your tits are fuller.” Without warning, he grabbed my left breast with one hand. His grip was firm, demanding. He squeezed and kneaded the sensitive flesh, while his thumb roughly rubbed my hard tip. A moan escaped my throat. “Yes, my Lord,” I panted. “I’ve been training.” He laughed softly, a dark, arousing sound. “Training to please me better?” He let go of my breast and his hand slid lower. His fingers stroked over my belly button, then further, until they reached the wet, hot triangle between my legs. “You’re already all wet, you little slut,” he hissed, as his fingers stroked over my labia. “Just from me looking at you?” I could only nod, unable to form a clear thought. “Then let’s see how deep I can penetrate you before you come.”
With a quick movement, he grabbed me by the hair and pulled me to the bed. He threw me onto the sheets, my body landing softly, but I knew this was no tenderness. He pulled my legs apart and stood between them. I lay there, completely helpless, my wet, open pussy offering itself to him like a sacrifice. He knelt down, his face now directly in front of my wet slit. “Look at me,” he commanded. I obeyed. His eyes were dark with desire. Then he lowered his head and his tongue ran in a long, slow stroke through my wet lips. A shiver of pleasure shot through me. “Ahh… yes, my Lord!” I moaned. But he was merciless. He didn’t lick to please me. He licked to torment me, to drive me to the edge of madness. His tongue circled my clit, which was hard and swollen, protruding from its hood, again and again, faster and faster, until I thought I would explode. “Please, Alexander… please!” I whimpered. He paused and looked up. “Please what, my whore?” “Please let me come! Please!” He grinned wickedly. “Not yet.” He dove back between my legs, but this time he penetrated me with two fingers. I screamed. My pussy enveloped his fingers like a wet, tight tube. He began to push them deep in and out of me, while his tongue relentlessly sucked on my clit.
It was torture of the most beautiful kind. I felt a wave building inside me, my pelvis lifting involuntarily against his hand. “Almost… almost…” I panted. But he stopped immediately. He pulled his fingers out of me, dripping wet, and licked them off with relish. “No! Please!” I almost sobbed. “You only come when I’m inside you,” he said firmly. He straightened up and opened his belt. His jeans fell to the floor. His cock was already stiff and threatening to burst from his underwear.
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