A/N: DO NOT KEEP READING IF YOU ARE NOT PARTIAL TO VERY EXPLICIT SEX SCENES AND/OR BDSM (DOMINANCE AND SUBMISSION). I swear, though, I have never written ANYTHING the explicit before in my LIFE. I apologize in advance if I make you sick, but... if this kind of thing makes you sick, maybe you shouldn't be reading this--just a polite but strong suggestion.

Alice rapped her blunt, chewed down fingernails impatiently on her bare knees. Her pale thighs were sticking together with sweat beneath her short denim skirt, which was patched and frayed with the wearing influence of time. She did not like to wait. She had never been a patient woman. Waiting for Max to come home to her was always the worst part of every day. She loved him, so she loathed his absence—which, of course, was commonplace in his line of work. He was always rehearsing, or otherwise hunting for another place to perform. He had the voice of a god, in Alice's opinion. She closed her eyes, hearing his music echoing lovingly in her head. The songs he wrote for her always drove her senses into overload with desire. The eroticism in his music made her all that much crazier for him. He loved to make her crazy. His songs were rich with tension that seemed to be deliberately intended for her frustration and excitement.

She glanced over at his stereo, but quickly looked away again for fear that it might mysteriously start blasting his rousing music and send her over the edge, when she was already trying hard not to explode where she sat on the couch. She bit her dry, cracked lip, and her knee began to bounce up and down anxiously as she waited. It was their anniversary tonight, and he'd said they could share a nice night together alone, but the waiting was driving her mad. Her blue eyes flitted eagerly to the door every few moments, but she knew she was hoping too much. She knew he wasn't due for another hour, but she just couldn't help herself.

Giving up, she let out a resigned breath of annoyance, and flopped backwards. She slid her legs onto the armrest as her back hit the cushions and her dark red hair pooled around her head. She closed her eyes gently, breathing deeply and imagining that he was there with her. She imagined the piercing brown of his eyes; the soul-wrenching rumble of his low, unconcerned voice; the texture of his soft, dark hair under her fingers; the burning feeling of his warm, wide hands running up her body. She shuddered, and a pleased smile swept across her childish features. Ah, she might have seemed a child to him when they first met, but she proved him so wonderfully wrong. Her innocence was tempting to him, and his music drew her in. The more they'd grown to know each other, the more she was hooked, and now she could barely stand to be without his touch. He was truly a drug: she was so physically addicted to him, it seemed unreal.

Their relationship, as it was, felt unreal to her, as well. How she could have wound up dating someone so beautiful and considerate and so damn delicious, she had no idea. She often woke up feeling certain that the past two years had been a marvelous dream. When she did, she would sometimes start to cry with relief to find him lying next to her, solid, breathing, really there. And he would hold her—just hold her, and not question her or interrogate her insecurities. He let them be, and that continued respect diminished her fears more and more every day. God, how she loved him! And, ah, she was fortunate to have that love punctuated with the happy fact that every time he was near her, she could not stem her lust, and that they shared a similar insatiability to their crazed fantasies, so their sex life was never an issue in their relationship. Their only issue remained that Max spent so much time away from her, with his band. And for much of the time they were together, he would keep busy working on his music in progress.

The lock clicked, and Alice's eyes snapped open again immediately. "Max?" she whispered, bolting upright. The clunk of his boots on the floorboards sent chills up her spine, and she started to grin uncontrollably before he even moved from behind the open door. He was early. Her sweaty thighs began to ache with need for him already, as though she could read his mind, and knew what he was thinking about. It was obvious, once the door squeaked shut, that they were, indeed, thinking the same thing. Max turned slowly to face her. His dark eyes were narrowed at her, thundering with silent desire. He threw his long, heavy coat onto the floor, out of his way, before taking slow, torturous steps towards her, like an animal stalking its frozen prey. His black hair was a wild mess, and his pink lips looked fuller and more pleasing than she remembered them being this morning. Perhaps her own lust was distorting her vision of him, but at the moment, she did not care.

"Were you waiting for me, baby?" The low croak of his growling tone resonated delightfully in Alice's chest, and she shifted uncomfortably as she grew suddenly extremely damp between her legs—and she wasn't wearing any undergarments beneath her old, worn skirt. The fact of this made her heart skip a beat, and she suddenly felt the hidden part of her that was daring bubble to her surface.

She smirked, and slowly brushed back her long red mane, allowing her fingers to hover for an extra moment at her revealing neckline. "I always am, Max. You know that."

"I do," he agreed quietly, moving steadily closer to her. "And you know I wish I didn't always keep you waiting like this—on our anniversary, of all nights. That's why I took off early."

Alice shrugged, and her lips tightened in a suggestive smile. "It's alright, honey. You can make it up to me." She swung her legs back over the edge of the couch so she was sitting fully upright again.

Max sneered. "Damn right I can," he said quietly. He stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets as he stepped closer, his shining eyes sliding down her body, absorbing her image. Raw sex was burning in that expression, boring into Alice painfully, wonderfully, and she felt a gush of anticipating heat between her legs. She crossed her knees, and slid her hand up her thigh, hoisting her skirt slightly farther up on her lap as she sat back. "I got you something," he told her.

Her fingers dug into the skin of her thigh as she looked up at Max, who was finally standing above her. Eager for his love, she let her eyes graze his body, and linger at the apex of his strong legs. Her mouth watered, and she grew wetter and more flushed with every passing moment. "Did you?" she asked him excitedly, flexing her sweaty hands in a pitiful attempt to assuage her aroused thoughts. "What'd you get me?"

He gave her a teasing glare, staring down at her warningly. "You'll find out, eventually," he said with a lascivious grin.

"Oh?" She grinned as he knelt slowly before her and placed his warm hands on her knees to pry them apart. She tried not to allow her heart to leap through her chest and drench them all in her overflowing desire, but it was difficult. Her thighs trembled as he parted them until her skirt obstructed their continued progress. But this barrier did not at all hinder Max's attempts. He let his palms slide up her legs and push her skirt all the way up her waist so it was no longer in the way, then yanked her knees so far apart that her hips cracked.

"Good," he muttered vaguely. "No underwear. Just the way I like it."

"Max," she gasped in shock as he began to kiss her inner thighs. "Aren't you… going to… kiss me?"

"Why would I do that, whore?" he grunted against her soft skin. She shuddered. She knew he was often sexually sadistic, and that never bothered her. It pleased him, and that was all she cared about. She never minded submitting to his incredible control. When he wanted to dominate her, she allowed him to, because she loved him. His deft, nimble fingers—so muscular from all the instruments he plays—toyed slyly up her hips until he was able to wrap his hands entirely around her backside and lift her from the couch very slightly as he pulled her towards his face. She shut her eyes, knowing what was coming, bracing herself for it.

His lips collided with her soaked pussy, and already the intensity of his touch made her fling her arms out in pleasure. Her fingers dug into the fabric of the couch, and her entire body shook as his tongue darted out to taste her, to claim her.

"Oh God," she moaned without thinking, forgetting the rules he always set when he took to dominating her. She realized her mistake a moment too late.

Max removed his mouth from her core, and straightened up. His face was stern but lustful. "Have you forgotten, darling?" he cooed, and she felt comforted by his unexpected gentleness. He moved away from her and back towards the doorway, where his coat remained in a heap on the floor. He bent to shuffle through his numerous deep pockets, and when he had found what he was hunting for, he hid it behind his back as he inched towards her again with a sadistic and excited smirk on his face. "At times like this, if ever you are to speak, you are to address me as Master. Are we clear?"

She gave him a single, subservient nod, her heartbeat racing as she anticipated what he was going to do to her. She eyed his arm nervously, fearing what he was holding there behind him, just out of sight. "Yes, Master," she said agreeably.

"Look at me, bitch," he said harshly. He used his free hand to grip her hair at the base of her scalp and force her head upward so their eyes locked. Her breathing quickened, and she smiled submissively under his stiff grasp, gazing directly into his hypnotizing eyes.

"Yes, Master. I'm sorry, Master."

A glint of pride shone in his cloudy, lust filled expression. "Good girl," he told her. It was then that he revealed the gift from behind his back. "Happy anniversary, Alice, my love." He was clutching two objects—one black leather collar that might have belonged to a dog, and a leather flogger. As she laid eyes on these gifts, she felt herself grow steadily wetter. She loved it when he dominated her, and she could not entirely explain why, but it was an intensely intimate interaction that made them both so happy, and she could not ask for more than that. This was sure to be a fantastic anniversary.

"Thank you, Master," she said breathlessly, her eyes shining with adoration. She blinked up at him, feeling her love for him swelling inside her tight chest. She wanted so to express her deep appreciation more wholly, but she knew better. She bit her lip instead, breathing heavily, begging him silently to satisfy her. He reached out for her hands, which she placed into his palm delicately. Her fingers were vibrating with the thought of what he was surely about to do to her. He clutched her hands tightly, and pulled her gruffly to her feet. She nearly stumbled, but he steadied her with a hand at her neck. His grip was tight, and it hurt, but it was nothing compared to what she imagined he had in mind for her.

His grasp suddenly lightened, and his fingers trailed to brush her hair away from her neck. "Hold up your hair," he ordered. Silently, she did as she was told, sweeping up her long sheet of hair into a messy clump at the back of her head. He smiled, and held up the collar. "You are mine, Alice. When you are wearing this collar, you belong to me, is that understood?"

"Yes, Master."

"We have gone through this before, haven't we?" he asked her gently as he reached around her slender neck to fasten the buckle.

"Yes, Master."

"Today, Alice, I cannot promise I'll go as soft on you as I have in the past."

A hint of nervous anxiety pulsed through her. "M—Master?" she asked meekly as Max let his hands fall away from her neck and she allowed her hair to cascade down her back again. His grip on the flogger still in his hand suddenly tightened noticeably, and she flinched as he drew it back, and forced her to turn around.

"No questions, slut," he told her coldly, placing a hand on her shoulder to steady her where she stood. She whimpered, and a second later, the flogger descended sharply upon her buttocks. The biting sting seemed to be felt throughout her entire nervous system. He had never hit her like that. Her yelp sounded foreign to her, but as his hand slid down her back to bend her over, the pain melded curiously with the powerful heat of their lust, and her thighs ached with desire. "Hands on the couch, ass in the air." She complied. "What do you say, bitch?" he snapped.

"Y—Yes, Master! I'm sorry, Master!"

"And what do you say when I hit you, you filthy fucking whore?"

She shivered with delightful arousal at the way he was speaking to her, so cruelly. It was delicious. "I—I don't know, Master," she admitted nervously.

"You are to thank me when I hit you, you nasty slut. You deserve this pain, dirty bitch, don't you?"

"Yes, Master, I deserve it all, Master. Thank you, Master."

There was a rushing sound as the flogger flew through the air again, and the resounding slap upon her flesh sent burning pain through her. It brought tears to her eyes, and she whimpered again. "Th—Thank you, Master," she cried out with difficulty. Again and again the hard leather beat her sore ass, and with every stroke, she cried a little less and thanked him a little more vigorously. After eight intense slaps, the blows ceased. Her pussy was fantastically damp, now, and her ass was burning painfully. She was so turned on from his beating. She loved this treatment, shamefully so, and more than she would ever admit to anyone. She never would have discovered this side of herself if it had not been for Max. He was so good to her, and showed her such a beautiful new world of love that she'd never even imagined.

Max's palm made contact with the raw, red skin he'd just beaten. She flinched at the touch. "Nice and red. Good. I hope that hurt. Did it hurt, my little slut?"

She restrained a moan, which escaped slightly in her softly muttered "Yes, Master."

"Good." His fingers slid down her buttocks, and slipped between her legs. She dug her short nails into the couch cushions where her hands were still obediently placed, and involuntarily lurched slightly with the feeling of his fingers embracing the outer lips of her pussy. "This is mine. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, of course, Master."

"Whose pussy is this?"

"It's yours, Master. It's forever yours."

"Ah. Good girl." He rewarded her by sliding two of his fingers inside of her, so she inadvertently bucked backward against him, forcing his fingers as deeply as they could go. "Fucking cunt," he snarled. "I bet you want me to fuck you, now, don't you?"

"Always, Master," she breathed, and she moved eagerly against his hand. Immediately, he removed himself from her, leaving her hot and bothered and unsatisfied, aching furiously for him to please her. "Oh God," she moaned. "Please."

With his hand, still wet from the juices of her needy body, he slapped her ass with maddening force one more time, so she flinched and yelped again. "What do you call me?"

"I'm sorry—Master!"

"And what do you say when I hit you?"

Her eyes were rolling, and her body was undulating with discontented desire. "Thank you, Master," she sighed in a desperate, worn out tone.

"There's a good slave," he said proudly. He sunk his long, wet fingers into her hair again, and pulled her back up. He turned her back around to face him, so she could see his beautiful features again. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, as though he, too, were as breathless as she was. The obvious erection in his pants indicated that she was doing a good job. She smiled proudly to herself as the hand in her hair slid to her cheek, and he patted her warmly. "I want you to strip down to nothing," he demanded, "and meet me in the bedroom. Understood, slut?"

"Yes, Master," she replied obsequiously. He leaned forward, and for a moment, she thought he was finally going to kiss her, but she should have known better. This was not the time for kisses; this was the time for delicious belittlement. He pressed his mouth to her throat, instead, and suckled at her tender flesh. When he pulled away a minute later, the area was very sore and red, and he gazed at the little mark as though extremely pleased with himself. He patted her cheek once more, and stepped passed her to leave the room. She took a moment for herself to steady her breathing and to calm herself down as much as possible before removing her shirt and her very rumpled skirt. The cool air was a shock on her bare, sweat-caked skin, and she gasped, instinctively hugging herself close. It took her a few more moments to prepare herself mentally for whatever she was about to endure in the bedroom, and even when she finally worked up the strength to step forward on her shaking legs, she still did not feel entirely certain she'd be able to handle whatever Max was going to submit her to.

When she entered the bedroom, she felt her heart rate increase drastically. She was greeted by the glorious sight of Max's slick bare chest. He was standing at the foot of the bed, wearing only his black jeans and a dangerous smirk. In one hand he was swinging several long cords of rope threateningly, and in the other, he was holding a wad of black fabric. The flogger lay on the bed behind him. "Come here," he told her, and she did so slowly, anticipating. "Kneel for me, slut," he commanded, and she obliged instantly. She fell to her knees with a painful thud, and looked eagerly up at him. He sneered down at her lustfully, and placed the rope and the fabric behind him beside the flogger. "Take my cock in your moth, you dirty fucking whore," he ordered in a hoarse voice that sent a chill down her spine. Doing just as she was told, she unzipped his jeans and wriggled them down his legs. He kicked them from his ankles as she pulled down his boxers as well with shaking hands. His cock sprung free, hard and reaching for her. She felt her heart leap into her throat at the sight of it. God, how she loved that member. She loved it inside her. If he didn't fuck her, soon… well, she felt certain she'd go mad.

As he discarded his boxers from around his feet, she curled one hand around the base of his cock and took the head between her lips. He let out an exquisite groan that raised her confidence greatly. Feeling intense pride that she was pleasing her Master, she let him further into her mouth. His resulting moan brought on more wetness between her thighs. She barely had time to please him further on her own when his hand suddenly came to clutch the back of her skull. She tried to whimper, but was cut short as she was unexpectedly forced forward so his cock struck the back of her throat, and she gagged. His hips thrust forward, and at the same time, he forced her head back and forth, hard, so she could not control her own movements, or the depth at which she took him into her mouth. She was gasping and spluttering for air, and tears were welling in her eyes, but he continued to fuck her mouth violently without any attention to her discomfort.

After what felt like forever, just before he came, he finally pulled her back, gripping her hair uncomfortably tightly in his hand. "Master!" she pleaded, squirming under his painful grasp.

"What? Are you going to beg me for mercy, bitch?" His voice was tense with the obviously frustrating urge to blow, but he was holding it in well. "You are mine. You are my whore. My toy to be used as I please. You are nothing. You deserve everything I give you. Isn't that right, slut?" Her pussy wept with ceaseless desire.

She nodded her exhausted head, feeling the soreness in her jaw. "Yes, Master," she sighed. "Of course, Master. I am yours, Master. I deserve everything you can give me, Master."

"That's right. Now… are you ready for me to fuck you, slave? Are you ready to have me inside that gorgeous, wet cunt?"

Alice groaned, and her eyes rolled behind tightly clenched eyelids. "Oh God, yes, Master. Fuck, please, Master. I need you, Master."

He laughed coldly, and let go of her hair at last, so she collapsed backwards. Her heaving, throbbing body shuddered as she hit the floor. She opened her eyes again to look up at him as he spoke. He was so beautiful, even when he was torturing her this way. "Well, too bad, bitch. Your sweet little pussy will have to wait a bit longer for my cock. Why don't you just pleasure yourself, slut? You know you want to. You do want to, don't you, slave?"

"Yes, Master. Anything you say, Master."

He smirked. "That's what I like to hear," he said with a short chuckle. He sat upon the edge of the bed, his hand slowly running up the length of his cock. She could not take her eyes off of it. "Well," he said, "get on with it. I want to see you cum for me, slave. But not without my permission."

Her eyes widened. "Not without your permission, Master?"

Max leaned forward, his gaze stern. "What did I say about questions, my dear little slave?" Her heart seemed to stop, and she bit her lip anxiously.

"I—I'm sorry, Master, I—!" He slapped her face, and the ringing sound resonated through the room. Her cheek stung, and she clutched it, whimpering as her pussy grew steadily wetter. "I'm so sorry, Master."

He sat back again, looking unconcerned. "I don't see you touching yourself."

"Yes, Master," she said submissively. She sat back, and spread her legs awkwardly. She had never been asked to do this in front of him before. She had never done this in front of anyone before, for that matter. This was something private, to her—too private even for Max's eyes. But she would do it, because he had asked her, and she loved him, and wanted to make him happy.

He seemed to sense her hesitation, because he said in a surprisingly kind voice, "Don't be afraid, Alice."

She took a deep breath, his calming deep voice making her feel slightly braver. Her fingers traveled to the curls between her legs, which she twirled delicately. Averting her eyes from Max, she allowed her thighs to part slightly further, and she began to tease her slick opening with one fingertip while another rubbed over her engorged clit. "Look at me, slut," he hissed, his tone reverting to its harsh, dominating state. She looked up at him, and their eyes connected. As her finger continued to play with her clit, she felt the color rising in her face. With their gazes locked like this, the whole experience was so much more embarrassing. She could barely stand it. Her body jerked, and she instinctively looked up at the ceiling to avoid Max's harrowingly piercing stare. He grabbed her face, his palm covering her mouth, suffocating her for a moment as he dragged her head back down so she could meet his eyes once again. "Ah, ah, ah," he warned. "Keep your eyes on me, bitch." He let go, then, and she inhaled deeply, glad for air again.

She nodded rapidly as her blush grew redder. "Yes—" She moaned. "—Master," she said, forcing herself to keep her eyes fastened to his. It was so difficult. The humiliation was deep, and the excitement on his face was so disparaging that she could barely stand to keep it up. At the same time, her pleasure was intense, mounting with every passing second as her fingers continued to tease her swollen pussy. Tears of mortification and degradation built quickly in her shining eyes, and as her orgasm neared, and her body began to rock uncontrollably, she let out a sob, for his eyes were like X-rays into hers, burning holes into her face, driving her mad with the incredible, intolerable intimacy. "Oh God," she sobbed, "Master, I'm going to… I need to…"

"Don't cum, yet, whore," he demanded sharply, suddenly reaching forward to take her wrist in his hand. He held her hand to his mouth, and kissed her drenched fingers while he continued to stare at her almost pityingly. "Was that really so hard for you, baby?" he asked her gently. She forgot her tears as her pussy gave an unintentional spasm of need, and her whole body shook with the pleasure of it.

"I'm sorry, Master," she groaned. "I didn't mean to cry, Master. You just… are so wonderful. You make me feel things I've never… I'm sorry, Master."

He smiled slyly again, and massaged her wrist in his grasp. He opened his mouth wide, and took her wet fingers wholly into his mouth, drinking her essence from them as though it were sweet nectar. His eyes closed, and he clutched her hand to him as though it were precious. She could feel his tongue embracing every curve of her fingers, every line and crevice between them. It was extraordinarily arousing, watching his beautiful, pink lips stretching over her knuckles to suck off the juice coating her skin. When he slowly slid her fingers from his mouth, with his eyes clinging steadfastly to hers and a smirk creeping over his expression, a squeak of pleasure accidentally escaped her, and her cheeks grew even redder than they were already.

Max kissed the back of her hand, and then bit the same spot. She winced. He chuckled, and stood, pulling her to her feet. Her knees were weak, and they buckled once she was upright, but he caught her under the arms and set her straight on her shaky feet. "Now," he said in a raspy voice that made Alice hungrier for him. "You've been such a good little cunt, I'm going to give you what you want. Not just yet, no," he added at the sight of her eager and relieved expression, "but very soon. Hands behind your back, slut." Obediently, she clasped her hands behind her. He turned her so she was facing away from him, and held her wrists clamped tightly together. For a moment, nothing happened, and then the scratchy texture of rope met her skin, and she realized he was tying her wrists together. When the knot was tight and secure, he spun her back around, and she could see once again the undeniably excited expression in his gorgeous features. He reached behind him once again, and retrieved a piece of rope with a thick knot already in it. He held it in front of her face, and sneered. "Open your mouth," he told her, and she did so, but hesitantly. The moment her mouth was wide, he thrust the knot between her jaws, and pulled the rope tightly around her head. He moved behind her, and tied it off behind her head, so the knot was stuck in her mouth, and would not fall out. She squealed, wishing to spit it out, but it would not budge. She whimpered, but the sound was stifled by the gag. He chuckled at her discomfort. "Sorry, love. Just one more thing." She watched him snatch the black fabric off the bed, and she felt a pang of fear. Her heart was thundering, now, well beyond the way it had been thus far. He straightened out the crumpled fabric, and moved it towards her face. She turned her head reflexively, but he held her steady, facing him. She tried to savor her last view of Max's face before he smothered her eyesight with the fabric, but he was too quick, and she was suddenly blind. She felt him knot it behind her head, and then he let go of her, and she could feel nothing but humiliation, fear, and desire.

The waiting was, as usual, terrible. Several minutes of emptiness passed, in which she stood quite still with her hands tied, unable to see or to call out for him properly. She began to imagine the things he was plotting, the torture he was going have her endure before finally fucking her with his magnificent cock the way she so longed for him to.

Then, suddenly, his hand collided with the small of her back. She gasped. He pushed her forward, roughly, lying her face down on the bed but with her legs dangling over the edge. "Get that teasing little ass in the air, bitch," he growled, and she did as she was told, shuffling to raise her hips off the bed with difficulty. With her hands tied behind her, it made moving a lot more of a struggle. She supposed that was his point.

Something warm and textured was suddenly massaging her ass. She took a deep breath in through her nose when she realized with a jolt that it was the flogger. Her entire body grew tense, just waiting for the softness to end and for the pain to begin. But the gentle massaging did not end. It went on and on and on for several long minutes during which her heart drummed madly on inside of her in anticipation. When she finally began to relax, finally calmed down and prayed this was the end, and that he would fuck her soon, the flogger left her for a moment. Then she heard it swishing through the air, and before she had time to brace herself, it smacked her buttocks harder than ever. She would have screamed, but the gag prevented her from emitting anything that did not sound like a pathetic squeal of pain. Tears rolled from the corners of her eyes and dampened the sheets beneath her head. Her brow was furrowed, and her body was squirming with the agony shooting through her. Again, it came down upon her. She heard the slap, and felt the pain, and beneath her blindfold, tiny colors burst before her eyes as she clenched her eyelids shut to stem the pain. With every hit, she writhed and screeched with difficulty, and still, her pussy was getting wetter and wetter, delighting in the passionate abuse Max was unleashing on her. "You've been so wonderful, whore," he said suddenly between slaps. "Do you think you deserve it, now? Do you deserve my cock in your delicious pussy, now? Huh, bitch?"

She screamed—or she tried to scream—"Yes, Master! Please!" Her muffled screeches were laughed at by Max, and her face burned as she felt completely used and mortified. Another slap fell hard upon her ass, and she thrashed again as violently as she was able, but Max held down her ankles. It took her a moment to realize that he was using both of his hands, which meant he had dropped the flogger. She began to cry and whimper like a tragically injured animal, relief washing over her in thick waves that made her tears flow even more. She felt the bed sink slightly beneath her as Max hoisted himself onto it behind her. He was spreading her legs by her ankles, stretching them wider than she thought they could go, and she was squealing again with pain, trying to beg him to stop the slow torture and simply give her what she wanted—what she needed!

He bent over her. She felt his bare flesh curving over her backside, and his chest crushing her arms against her back. His chin touched her shoulder, and he whispered in her ear. "I think you do, slut. But I want to hear you screaming while I fuck you." Her eyes rolled in her head behind the blindfold. She waited, her heart hammering, while he tugged at the knotted rope at the back of her head. She felt his hands on her face, and suddenly the thick knot was being yanked from her sore mouth. She let out a deep, guttural groan of aching want. "Hush, you filthy bitch," he told her warningly. "Now…" He gathered up her hair in his fist, and tugged her head back so she was in even more pain. "When I fuck you… that is to say, when my cock is buried in your aching, needy pussy—" He licked her ear, and she whimpered with desire, and let out an uncontrollable spasm beneath him. "—I expect to hear you screaming for your Master. Is that understood, my sweet little whore?"

Her voice was extremely high-pitched as she whimpered, "Yes, Master! Yes! Yes, anything, Master, anything!"

"There's a good girl." He pulled back, and she squirmed in anticipation. He placed his hands on her red, tender buttocks, and spread her apart, positioning himself. She could feel the head of his cock lingering at the soaked opening to her wanting center, teasing her, taunting her.

"Oh God," she moaned. "Oh God… please…" He swatted her ass with his palm, and she lurched against him.

Max grunted as he slid over the whole length of her warm slit without entering her. Then finally, excruciatingly slowly, he let the head slip inside her. She gasped at the amazing feel of his thickness finally penetrating her body, which had been silently screaming for him all day. "Master," she sighed, "please. Fuck me."

He chuckled in a strained voice. "Who are you to be giving me orders, bitch?" He removed his palm from her ass again, and it came back down in a painful, echoing slap. She jerked backward, and her Master's cock was suddenly entirely sheathed in her sopping cunt. He groaned, and she squeaked in shock, and all at once, the motion was started. He pulled all the way out of her, making her shriek in protest, then rammed fully into her again, pounding her roughly into the bed. He pumped his long shaft in and out of her several times before pausing with apparent difficulty, and gasping out, "I don't hear you screaming, whore. I want to hear my title on your lips, bitch." He slapped her ass yet again, and she yelped in pain.

As he thrust back inside her, she cried, "Master! Yes! Oh God, Master!"

He laughed coldly as he fucked her hard, entering her as fully as he was able and withdrawing almost entirely with every stroke. "That's right, bitch," he sighed. "That's what I like to hear."

His hand in her hair tightened, and she screamed at last. She would have screamed his name, but she was so close to orgasm that her head was too light for her to form any comprehensive words. All she could manage were some loudly chanted nonsense sounds, but Max did not seem to mind. His face was flushed, like the skin all over her tense body, and he seemed to be completely lost in her. Their pleasure intensified, mounting until they were standing hand in hand on the brink of absolute, pure ecstasy.

With another monumental shove inside her cunt, he came deeply within her, groaning as he bent forward to clutch her naked back and keep himself hard inside for another second as she finally fell completely over the edge in the overpowering bliss of an earth-shattering orgasm. She screamed finally, for the last time, in ecstatic agony as the brutal beating to her already extremely worn pussy finally came to a slow stop.

He rolled off of her, but was immediately at her side, his hands reaching for the knot that bound her hands behind her, preventing her from rolling onto her back. When it was undone, she collapsed, and yanked the blindfold over her head so she could see again. The sight of his beautiful face nearly sent her riding on another steep wave of pleasure. "I love the sight of you bound like that for my pleasure," he growled, reaching forward to unbuckle the collar she had forgotten she was wearing—the collar that meant she belonged to him. Her face flushed. Throwing the leather thing aside, he rolled on top of her, and his naked, sweaty body embraced hers more romantically than ever before. Her soul soared as his mouth captured hers in a heart stopping kiss, and their tongues danced greedily with one another. "God, I love you so much, Alice," he sighed between small pecks.

"I love you, too, Max," she gasped. "I love you so much."

"I can't believe it's been two years."

"What an amazing two years it's been, though."

"Most definitely." He smiled sleepily, gazing at her adoringly from behind his sweaty bangs. She brushed them back, and let her fingers linger on his face, while he stroked her cheek calmingly. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was starting to sound like a lullaby to her, and her mind was drifting. Her eyelids began to droop. "Honey?"

She blinked quickly, and focused her eyesight on him again. "Hmm?"

"Happy anniversary."

Smiling, she let out a deep, relaxed exhale. "You, too, sweetie." She kissed his bottom lip lazily, her eyes already falling closed. "Happy anniversary. I hope we have many more… and many more like this one."

"Me too, baby. Which is why…" He rolled away from her, and she opened her eyes again.

"Why what?" she questioned, her words slurring in exhaustion. She lifted herself up on her elbows to see where he had gone, and a second later, he popped up from the foot of the bed, rifling through the pockets of his wrinkled jeans. He found his goal, and hid it behind his back as he made his way back over to her in bed. "Oh no," she sighed with a chuckle, lying back down. "Not again. What is it this time?"

He took a deep breath. "I love you, Alice. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone or anything in my entire life, and… I want to spend the rest of that life… with you." Her heart beat seemed to slow. In fact, everything seemed suddenly slow, as though her brain had just flicked on its stupid switch. All she was certain of now was that she was finally wide awake, that Max was honestly the single most beautiful person she had ever known, and that he was withdrawing from behind his back a small, sparkling ring, and presenting it to her. "Will you marry me?"

The world was surely standing still, she thought.

"I—" She was speechless. She could barely breathe. "I… are you joking?"

He laughed, and the atmosphere grew suddenly less tense. Air seemed more accessible when he smiled so brightly. "No, baby, I'm not joking. Marry me. I love you."

"I… I love you, too!"

There was a pause. "So…?"

"Yes, you moron! Yes! Yes, of course!"

"R—really?" He seemed shocked, but his expression was delighted.

"Of course, stupid! Yes, I'll marry you!"

Relief overcame him, and bliss beyond any orgasm he could have given her swept her up in a whirlpool of his love. She flung her arms around him, and together they laughed, and kissed, and rejoiced over their immense love.

"Y'know," she sighed, when they had finally collapsed back into bed, curled against the curves of each other's bodies, "you never really struck me as the marrying kind."

"Yeah, I know," he said. "I didn't think I was, either."

"What changed your mind?"

He stared thoughtfully at her, his eyes glistening and his face relaxed. "You," he stated simply.

Alice's heart might as well have exploded by then, she was of such high spirits that night, and so in love. She was so in love that it hurt her head to try and contemplate the reality of it. "I really do love you," she said seriously before she split into a sleepy smile. "I also, however, really love sleep, and after what you put me through today, I really, really need it."

"Sorry, baby," he cooed apologetically, stroking her long red hair gently. "But you know you liked it."

She snorted. "Oh, shut up! Just go to sleep, asshole."

"Sorry. G'night, angel."

"Good night, Max."

She closed her eyes, and her body began to feel like a separate entity from herself as her mind wandered…

"…But you did like it, though, right, Alice?"

"Shut up!"

A/N: Don't say I didn't warn you!! Thanks for reading, though! I'm impressed you finished the whole eleven pages without abandoning it. This is seriously the first time I've ever done ANYTHING this explicit. Even my last erotic story wasn't half this explicit. I mean, sure, it was violent and sexual, but I just didn't use quite the same, uh... vocabulary that I did with this one. Yipes. I fear myself. And yes, I admit it... I have a thing for musicians and artists and whatnot. Fuuuuck yeah. Oh, and... I haven't yet edited this story, so if you find any mistakes, please let me know. Thanks!! And btw, the word "flogger" makes me laugh like a little kid. Hee hee hee hee hee... XD

PLEASE REVIEW. I want to hear people's responses, so that I know whether or not I'm doing something good or bad, and so I can change things if I ever choose to write something of this nature again in the future. THANK YOU.