Citizen K was not a complete stranger to her, she'd already heard about him, even had the occasion to see him, read some of his work. He tickled something in her, something she couldn’t quite define, that had been simmering within her for a long time. "Mental flexibility is what I seek," he told her when they first met for coffee, and she knew more was to come. Indeed, she was delighted when he asked to see her again a week later.
They met at 4:20. The sun was fading fast on another Sunday afternoon. There he stood, waiting, wearing black, and a smile. They sat at the local coffee shop, drinking and chatting. She felt tense. Knowing something was to come, but not knowing what. Knowing she wanted it, but not knowing why. Did she have what it takes? Could such a fine master want her for himself? Was she ready to face her own possible disappointment in herself? She had to find out.
"I know your type," he saw right through her, "you want things to be done to you. But tell me, girl, can you be of service to me?"
"Yes, I can," she promptly replied, for she had been in service before, and was well aware of her capabilities.
"Finish your water already, will I have to wait much longer?" he sternly asked her, causing her to jolt. He gave her instructions to bring her car around the corner, and went to pay the bill. She did exactly as told, leaving his groceries on the chair where they sat, the silly girl. Of course, as soon as she realized it, she ran back to grab the bags before following him to the mansion.
He waited for her as she parked her car, right behind his, then instructed her to walk half a pace behind him, as any slave should. She was a fast learner, for the most part. She realized the tone was being set, even before entering. Once inside, she felt her brain begin to pulse. 'What am I doing?' she asked herself over and over, as he prepared some tea. She eyed the mansion with a curious eye. A king or a jester, she wasn’t quite sure yet who stood before her.
"Sing for me," he demanded, "pick a song and sing for me." Her mind went blank. Why was she at such a loss? She wanted to please him, but the connection was still loose. Slowly, she began to realize what was disturbing her. There were no negotiations, nothing was defined. She hadn't even set up a safe-call. Was she ready for this? She decided to step up to the plate. She could only hope that her eagerness would compensate for her lack of experience.
They sat, he talked for hours, she listened, trying to retain it all. Every now and then he asked her to sing for him, but she was still blank. He then promptly got up and returned with a plastic bag. "Here, wear this…" he told her. She looked in the bag, pulled out the perfectly ironed maid outfit, and exchanged her own clothes for it. "Lovely…" he smiled, as he pulled up a small chair for her to place her folded clothes on, in the maid's corner. He then ordered her to tidy up his bedroom, then the kitchen, while he went to prepare her treatment.
She happily did as he requested, trying hard to pay attention to details, but at some point, she slipped up, forgot to put a couple of things in their place. They both knew what that meant, as he reached out for his cane, and instructed her to lay face down and expose her pink bottom to him. One, two, three, four; he whacked her swiftly, but hard, making his point very clear, and her pussy instantly wet. "Now, carry on with your chores…" he directed her.
She finished washing up the dishes, cleaned the coffee machine and countertops, then started peeling two hard-boiled eggs he had cooked. Bringing them to him, not knowing what he intended to do with them, she just watched. In the main hall, he had prepared a tray, and on it all he needed for the treatment he was going to give her; tall bottle of lube, condoms, cloth blindfold, and an extremely wide butt-plug known as the Plow.
"Now," he smiled looking over to the Plow, "this is going inside you, as preparation. I need to know you can take my cock, but not before I know it's safe. Now, take an egg, and put it in your mouth. Good, that’s right. No biting now, you hear me?" and added, "Every bite mark is ten lashes." She followed his instructions, and got into position, over the coffee-table, on all fours, head down, ass high, and he began. She tried to relax herself, but he saw she needed more prep work. He quickly reached out for a medium sized metal butt-plug, which slid in much easier. The coolness of the metal against her inner tissue was soothing to her heat.
After some fun was had with that toy, he asked her to sit up, and show him the egg. She plopped it out of her mouth, onto her hand, and presented it to him. "Hmm…" he examined it, "Not bad, but… oh? What's this? Teeth marks!" He looked over to her, she didn't know what to say, felt her blood surging through her veins with such intensity, she could hardly contain herself. "You realize I won't be able to use you like this, right, little one?" he asked rhetorically, while she nodded, ashamed of her performance.
"Let's try this again," he said. She was thankful to get another chance. She took the second egg and tried to hold it with just the air in her mouth, being ever so careful not to let her jaws close down on it. He pulled the metal plug out of her ass and lubed her up for the Plow. Slowly he pushed it against her, and she instinctively pushed herself upon it, around it, feeling it tear her wide open. She leaned forward for a short pause, but he pushed, and pushed, until it was inside, with a very loud moan, and she started burning up.
He smiled, "Good girl. Sit up," he sat before her on the couch, "Show me the egg." Frightened of the outcome, she slowly released the egg from her mouth and presented it to him. It was in perfect shape. They were both very pleased.
Now that he knew it was safe, he pulled his cock out of his pants, and yanked her by the hair towards it. She was far from being an oral expert, but so wanted to please him, she tried her best, following his instructions, pleasuring him. She could hear him moaning in delight, as she tried to take more and more of it deep into her throat. He didn’t mind her gagging, and saliva all over the place, so long as the job would get done. He didn't even mind her dinner making a surprise appearance all over him and the floor, he kept at it, thrusting deep into her throat, until his sweet juices came spurting out.
"Don't swallow," he ordered her, "Hold it in your mouth. Show me." She opened her mouth and showed him the pool of semen underneath her tongue. He was pleased. So pleased that he decided to blindfold and gag her. She could hear him moving about the room, putting things in place, but stood there, still holding his seed in the bottom of her mouth. Now she knew he was king and not jester.
He led her, still blindfolded, to the bathroom, removed the gag, told her to swallow and brush her teeth. Then he led her to the maid's room, to her bed for the night. He gently helped her lay down, and covered her with warm blankets. Then he cuffed her ankle to the foot of the bed, kissed her forehead and left. And there she lay, with only her thoughts haunting her. Was she safe? Still blindfolded, still plugged, she tried to fall asleep, but couldn't get comfortable.
She could feel her wetness steaming between her legs. She reached her little hand down and rubbed herself off in the hope that her orgasm would put her to sleep. But no, adrenaline was rushing through her too fast to stop. She started reconstructing the events of the previous 12 hours, but all she got were dim flashes and half sentences. And her ass was on fire. Restless, she tossed and turned, until he came to her.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"It hurts too much…" she was meek, hoping he would relieve her.
"Oh, that's just fine, dear. Now go to sleep." She could hear him smiling as he left.