cherise and I, fiction, part 2

Note that this is a work-in-progress, as yet unfinished.


Master V acquired Cherise three months ago, and I was unhappy about it.

He’s owned me for a year. He’s always had other women, girlfriends, as masters do, but he’s never had another slave. I’ve never been jealous of them. They are a different category of woman for him, at a higher level than me, but in the end just momentary interests.

But she walked in, and I saw how he gazed and obsessed over Cherise’s big dark boobs. Privately I objected to him fawning over them, yet frankly, I did too. Hers are all natural, yet they have roundness and circumference, like moons made out of fudge ice cream.

She is beautiful.

It was inevitable that she would be his favorite at first. She was new and shiny, also exotic and different because she’s so gorgeously black. I knew he would prefer her for a while. I saw that coming, and I accepted it as it happened. I have pretty great tits too, but he’s tired of vanilla.

He took her almost every night the first week.

When she remained his favorite the second week, taking her every night, I became jealous. She is utterly submissive, soft, sensual. There was no question as to what he saw in her. I did too. She has a little girl voice, yet she doesn’t act like a child, as she is aware sexually. She knows what this is. Still, I’m sure he felt he was fucking a virgin each and every night.

My jealousy leaked out of me in ugly ways. It gave me a harsh edge with Cherise, and some of it oozed like acid onto Master. I managed to dodge punishment, but my attitude certainly didn’t help my standing with him. I had lost my submissive center. He was no longer interested in me.

He continued to take her most nights into the third week. The hurt was not only him doing her, it was that he kept her in his bed through the night. They walked out of his bedroom together in the morning, and seeing them crushed me.

The fourth week, he finally took me one night. But I was now awkward with him, overcompensating, trying too hard. He finally just turned me over, tied me down, fucked me behind, and then left me tied for the rest of the night, trickling his cum.

He went back to Cherise the rest of the week, and I grew sullen and silent.

Perhaps as an admonishment of me, one night he had me bathe her, with white sponges oozing with soap. Master watched and pointed out places on her ebony flesh I had missed, even though I hadn’t. Later he had me comb her hair and then dress her in a sheer white peignoir, framing her beauty for his pleasure.

Another night he had me serve them both dinner. He had me bustling about the kitchen high-heeled and nude while she sat at the table with him in a gorgeous royal blue dress. I don’t know what angered me the most — that he had her share dinner with him or that she looked so incredible in royal blue.

Then, on a weekend afternoon, he suddenly had me kneel before Cherise. He ordered her to hike her dress and stand over me. Then he told her to pee on my face.

He had made me a slave to his slave.

3 thoughts on “cherise and I, fiction, part 2

  1. Oh dear. I did wonder how it would go when you were faced with a real difficult situation. That’s a tough one. I think he handled it perfectly…you are a slave…no rights…at all. 😥

    Like

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