I was his toy. There was no other explanation than that. He used me, but personally, I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the way he threw me around and fucked me roughly.

He didn't love me, this seemed obvious to me. But of course, I loved him. The first time we met, we were considered a couple. We would buy dinner and chat for a while, to get to know each other. Although on my part I considered it as the two of us getting to know each other, he considered it as luring me into his strong but abusive arms. His warm touch was so new to me the first time we fucked. Of course it was fucking; we never made love. For the love I felt for him was not mutual.

I was sure there must have even been other girls he took, before and after my meetings with him. I never stayed over whenever we had a appointment. Whether it was three in the morning or six in the evening. Immediately once we were done I put my clothes back on and left his house.

I came only when he told me I could cum. Even if it meant holding it in for an hour after I should have released it. But when he did let me cum, I came hard. It would spill out of me, coating his desirable cock and spilling out on to the white sheets of his bed, tangled around us in the aftermath of his strong fucking.

At night, I would even dream about him. In my dreams, I didn't call him Master like I did whenever I was with him. I would call him by his real name, at least I think it was his real name. I would dream about him kissing me tenderly, like he did anyways, but his cock would be moving slowly inside of me, cherishing the moment as we made love; yes in my dreams, we were making love, not just pure fucking. I always wished this was the case in real life.
He was tall. 6 feet 2 inches, possibly. His muscles were well defined, his stomach was flat and he had a perfect pack of abs. He was very beautiful with his shoulder-length brown hair and warm, sky blue eyes. His smile was brilliant, but it was rare for me to see it. He usually had the room darkened, but by chance that I did see his smile, it was only if I rode him better than any night I had in months. This would happen about once or twice every sixth months.

It was an average day.

I was coming to his house once again, after a few weeks while he was on vacation in the Bahamas. I wished he had asked me to go with him... But of course he would not. For he did not love me, like I said already...

I wore a black and sparkling dress that fitted me snugly. It was a strapless dress and the zip was in the back. As for the bra I wore, it was lacy, black to match my dress and snapped in the front like usual. I wore no underwear, also as usual.

The heels were short, possibly an inchand they matched my dress too. I hoped he liked my outfit tonight because if he didn't... I would be wrecked. I would never leave him, of course, but I would enjoy being fucked yet in tears.

Ringing the doorbell, I heard him calling from inside, "Come in."

I did as he said, the door was unlocked.

I walked in and the room was dark. Everything in his house was dark.

"Where are you?" I called to him.

"Upstairs, where else?" I heard him growl.

He wasn't in a good mood. Even as my Master and my fucker, he almost always talked to me tenderly; kindly. This day was an exception.I was slightly disappointed that he didn't meet me at the door, which he did sometimes.

Tip-toeing upstairs, I found his room even in almost pitch-darkness, "Master?" I called to him quietly.

He grunted quietly.

I walked in, only to see the room lit by two candles on either side of the bed. The strength of the light, however, was enough to illuminate his delicious figure. He was in bed, exposed from his waist-upand his hands were behind his head. This was also unusual. I usually let him take me 'by surprise' when I walked in; he would be hiding behind the door and touch me from behind.

I usually never asked him questions, but I had never seen him in such a bad mood before.

"Master? Are you... alright?" I asked boldly.

He grunted again and as I closed and locked the door behind us, he finally got up out from under the covers. His naked body was beautiful, as usual. He walked over to me with no smile, but instead a fierce expression on his face. I stood absolutely still when his hands reached out to touch me.