Author: SM

Title: She Came

Part: 02

Universe: SM, She Came

Summary: While sitting on his deck reading a book about Roman slavery, Steve Marks has a surprising visitor. A young woman in her 20’s appears seemingly from out of no-where to offer herself as a sex slave, with detailed reasons. In Part 02, this works out to a new Master/slave relationship.

Keywords: Intro, MF, D/s, story development

Language: English

She Came Part 02

By SM

This is a work of fiction for adult entertainment. Copyright: This story is the sole property of the author (SM) and is freely available here to adults over the age of 18 for private personal use only. Reposting of this material without the express written consent of the author is strictly prohibited.

You know the drill, if you’re too young, or it’s illegal where you live, and all that, then don’t read it. How hard can it be to understand that?

Ok, if it’s hard, then just skip this story anyway, just to be on the safe side.

On the other hand, if you want to, you can leave a message at the beep. BEEEP

And if you tried to leave a message, don’t read this story, either.

Just to let my readers know, the ASSTR counting log isn’t working for my files, and the last time I checked, the ASSTR staff were swamped trying to correct some other problems, so the only evidence that these are being read are the comments. I can certainly respect them being covered up with all it takes to even live these days. So, PLEASE take a moment and send any comments, even if you just want to send “I read it” or something, to /files/Authors/SM/She_Came/A_Feedback_Form_For_SMs_Stories_She_Came.htm, and you can do that anonymously. That way I can have a better idea of how many people are reading these stories.)

From Part 1:

“Come here and sit on my lap.”

“But, Sir, I’m sticky and I smell like—“

“—you’ve just had the best sex in the past 3 years,” I finished for her.

She giggled again. “Yes, that’s true.”

“So, are you going to start off arguing with one of my commands?”

She moved quickly around and sat on my lap, reaching up to put her arms around my neck. “No, Sir.” Even her eyes were smiling. I pulled her close and kissed her, and she whimpered into my lips. Her body was warm and her boobs soft as cushions, her body vibrating with desire. The kiss lasted a very long time.

Neither of us seemed to notice or remember how long it lasted. But it wasn’t long enough.

I woke up and reached for her, but she had already risen. Apparently, she heard me, though.

“Good morning, Sir. I hope soon I can say, ‘Good Morning, My wonderful Master’, if that’s not too presumptuous to say, Sir,” she said in her silvery voice. She got on top of the bed, and sat cross-legged, which exposed her pussy to me.

“You’re a very determined slave,” I replied, rubbing my eyes with my hand, but not before noticing that her top was mostly see-thru and only reached to the top of her thighs. That is, the top of her bush, so she was bottomless. Very sexy and provocative.

“I haven’t had a spanking in a long time, Sir, so I’m likely misbehaving,” she said impishly, her eyes twinkling.

“Where did you get that? What you’re wearing, I mean.”

“I’ve been up for awhile, Sir. So, I ran to my apartment and got this to change into. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, I don’t mind. It’s very sexy.”

“Thank you, Sir. Would you like some breakfast?”

“I don’t think I have any food for breakfast here. Just coffee.”

“That’s ok, Sir. I brought some food over, too. Just some coffee cake and fruit--and the coffee’s ready whenever you want some.”

“Please.”

“Since I didn’t find any creamer or sweetener, I presume you take your coffee black?”

“Yes. And, you can have some with me.”

“Thank you, Sir. I’ll be right back,” and she hopped up and trotted out to the kitchen, her wiggling ass quite noticeable. She seemed quite energetic, and I flashed-back to the previous night which I could easily describe in 4 words, as in “We fucked like minks.” She was one sexy woman. Unfortunately, my 54 year-old energy level had been depleted a great deal in the mink-fucking portion of the night, so I wasn’t moving this morning nearly as easily as I had last night.

However, I couldn’t help but admire her bottomless, and, uhmm . . . provocative wiggles. As an advertising tactic, it was working on me.

She returned with the oak grain TV tray top which I had commandeered as a serving tray the previous day, provisioned with aforementioned coffee cake, a selection of sliced fruit and 2 coffees, one black and the other perverted with some of that weird flavored creamer stuff.

I admit to only 2 prejudices—the first is that coffee should taste like coffee, even if it’s weak or strong or whatever. I’ve had to grow accustomed to weak coffee, because of my Doc’s advice about my blood pressure. But, at least, I don’t want it flavored like something else. And the second is that meat served during any meal should taste like the original meat and using A-1 sauce—or, God-forbid, ketchup—on a steak is in my view sacrilege of the highest order. I was raised on a ranch and we ate cows whole. Sometimes we cooked ‘em. (Just kidding, of course.)

But, after the mink-fucking portion of last night, I was feeling like a happy pervert anyway, so I didn’t kick her out or anything for having perverted her coffee. I enjoyed her bottomless attire instead, although it is true that I was concentrating more on the bottomless part than the attire. So, if she was a pervert about coffee, I decided I’d grant this one exception, and therefore she was welcome in my club.

As I sat up and sipped my coffee and munched on some cantaloupe and pineapple, she sat up very close beside me and snuggled up, careful not to disturb my coffee or hers. She smelled decidedly feminine and sexy, not necessarily in that order. The coffee tasted good, as well as the fruit.

“I’m not really into sweet stuff like the coffee cake this early, babe, so you can have all you want. But the fruit is good. I do appreciate your effort to prepare something, anyway.”

“Thank you, Sir. I hope I’ve been pleasing to you in most ways.”

“You are pleasing me, babe.” She eyes lit up at that, and she took a bit of coffee cake.

“Of course, I need lots of discipline and punishment to get me back in line, Sir,” she said after she swallowed.

“That should be fun, too,” I said, grinning. “I’m ready for a shower,” putting my coffee to the side.

“May I wash you, Sir?” she asked.

I started to say ‘no’ but then I groaned as I tried to get out of bed, and felt the sore muscles. She quickly put her cup down and hopped off the bed and around to help me up.

“Yeah, I guess it would be good if you washed me,” as I considered the energy it would take to bend over and scrub and all that.

“Of course, Sir. Give me a moment to get the shower running, ok?”

“Ok,” and I sat back down on the side of the bed, feeling old. She trotted off to the shower and I could hear water running. After a moment, she returned, and helped me up and into the shower, stripping her see-thru top off and getting in behind me and closing the shower door. It’s a good thing I have a roomy shower.

The water felt nice on my sticky skin, and leaned face-first into it, letting it cascade down my sore back. I could feel her hands moving the water around to the dry places, her boobs gently rubbing against my side. I pretended not to notice how soft her boobs were. My dick twitched, though, in spite of my intentions.

“Whenever you’re ready, Sir, I’ll put shampoo in your hair,” she said. And so on it went. She was very thorough and scrubbed me ‘all over’ in every sense of those words. Even scrubbed the bottoms of my feet, which rarely—if ever—get that kind of attention.

She got me out and dried me off and then led me to the bed again, and put down two towels on it longwise. “If you’d like to wait a few minutes, Sir, I’ll clean off and be right back—if you don’t mind.”

“That’s fine,” I replied, and lay down on the towels face first.

I must have dozed off again, because it seemed like it wasn’t but a few seconds that she was back. When she touched me, I must have groaned a bit, because she said, “I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t know you were asleep. Would you like a massage?”

Now, that sounded good. “Sure,” I said into the pillow, which was about all I could muster as a response.

Somehow, she’d heated some oil and started to rub me all over with it—at least, all over my backside. After that, all that kept me awake were the sore muscles she was rubbing, especially in my lower back and thighs, the product of the “fucking like minks” portion of last night. She had me turn over once, as I recall. Things were a bit foggy, and I’m sure I dozed off again in there somewhere.

I was awakened later by something dripping on my thigh, and I looked up to see her bowed over me at my side. I moved and she looked up, a bit startled, and there were tears running down her face. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she whispered, reaching out with gentle fingers and trying to wipe her tears off my leg. “I didn’t mean to disturb your rest.”

“No, I probably need to get up anyway,” I said, turning over on my side toward her. I reached out a hand, and touched a tear running down her cheek. “What do the tears mean, babe?”

She bent her head as if to hide her face from me. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she said in the breaking voice of someone crying. “I don’t want to be a bother to you. I’ve just been looking for so long for a Master.”

I reached up and took her hand and pulled her to lie down beside me. She still tried to turn her head away, so I reached over and took her chin and pulled her face toward me.

“Well, yes, you bothered me, and I’m glad you did!” I said gently.

“What do you mean, Sir?” Tears continued to drip from her eyes.

“There isn’t any way to be intimate with someone without it disrupting their life. It’s been awhile since I’ve been intimate with anyone else, so I’m glad you have, uh, ‘bothered’ me. It’s been awhile since I’ve had a slave.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Do you mean . . . I mean . . . I was only—“

“Oh, hush! MY . . . slave-Cari,” I said to her, tipping my head back and looking fully into her eyes. She squealed and moved forward to hug me, and bumped against my forehead, then started back, saying, “OH! NO! . . . OH! I’m sorry, Sir! . . .”

I laughed and pulled her against me. “Oh, hush, I said! Shhhhhhhh . . . . shhhhhhh . . . . . . . shhhhhh,” as she cried into my shoulder, holding me like she would never let me go. I hugged her close, and felt her warmth.

For once, even her tears felt good to me.

“Master?”

“Yes, my pet?”

“So, it’s true now? That I’m Your slave and You’re . . . You’re my Master?” I wasn’t sure how she was able to make the sound of the capital “Y” like that.

I nodded to her. “It does seem so, doesn’t it, My pet?”

She just looked at me with tears brimming in her eyes, and nodded. Several of her tears dropped onto my hand. I pulled my hand up to my mouth and kissed where the tears had fallen, tasting their saltiness.

“So, I’ve found You! I really found You!”

We slept some more, since she was exhausted from—well, probably from thinking and worrying too much about the whole thing of finding a Master. I was still worn out from—well . . . ok, so I’m old and haven’t been “fucking like minks” lately. Or maybe it was the massage.

Yeah, the massage. That had to be it.

This time I woke up first, so I gingerly extricated myself from her arms and tiptoed to the walk-in closet and got some clothes. I had an armoire inside the closet, so I could get my underwear and socks out without making any noise to wake her. Then I maneuvered carefully out and closed the bedroom door to let her sleep.

Going to the room I had set up as an office, I checked my email and voice messages, and started working on a reviewing a story series which I had written not long ago.

This is the end of Part 2, and I’ll be adding Part 3 as soon as I write it. Part 1 can be found here.

I’m very interested in your comments and suggestions—or questions—so if you would be so kind to take a minute and go here and send them, I’d appreciate that very much. If you include your email (optional), I’ll try to reply as soon as possible.

I have appreciated the comments and reviews my readers have already sent, so please continue to send them. If you like the story or series enough, consider listing it in “Reader’s Recommendations” on the ASSTR home webpage.

Don’t miss my other stories, including the “Her New Name Series” which you can find here, and “Buxom Mother and Daughter” which you can find here.

Thanks, and have a great day!

~SM~