Master's Slut I

I barely registered the sounds that came from the television, a distant drone beneath the insistent stroke of his fingers. Master lay behind me on the couch with his arms tightly wrapped around my waist, caging me as usual. My back pressed against his chest, the thin cotton of my t-shirt and panties doing little to buffer the heat of his skin. 

He twisted my nipple in a slow and deliberate motion, and my body responded with an involuntary tensing, a ripple that ran from my ...