"Yes, Master," she murmurs, climbing up onto the bed, feeling warm and melty and hazy and so very, very his. When she spreads her legs for him, her thighs tingle with anticipation, like she can feel the empty space between them pressing down with his future weight. She wants him, but it's wanting as worship, again, wanting without temptation, enjoying her own desire without needing it to be fulfilled.

Fuck she looks so good, laying there like that. Looking at him like that. Now, to, um, get on top of her? That's what's next, right? He's never done this before.

John steps out of his pants, pulls off his shirt, and climbs up onto the bed, straddling his newly minted slave (and isn't that just the hottest thing ever), giving her tits a hard grope and running a hand over her body before trying to position himself. He's not going to fuck her yet (he wants her to beg), but he wants to find her vagina and... actually wait, is she wet enough? She probably is, right? He should check. John pauses his repositioning, and moves a finger to gently touch her in her outer labia, trying to remember the anatomy lesson (and not the bad parts, fuck), to find his way in. 

She lets out a soft moan when he gropes her, and looks up at him with worshipful adoration. He can rest assured that she is definitely wet enough.

That's what he thought. (Like many many other things at the moment, how wet she is for him is a turn-on. Not that he's not turned on already. Turn-on-er? No that doesn't make sense, also, he really should be paying attention to Rosy now!) 

John is very eager to slide inside of that warm wet pussy he just felt (and the desire to rub his cock against her is nearly overwhelming) but he does have more he wants to do first (at least a little bit) and it still feels wrong to just take her (even if she is his slave now) without giving at least a little back in return. (He's not going to make the same mistakes he made before, though.) Plus, he liked the way Rosy sounded when he groped her tits. So... what if he gropes her again, harder this time? (Hopefully the wet finger isn't a problem.) 

She moans louder, and says "Thank you, Master," her voice shaky and hushed.

Oh, fuck that's hot. He gropes her again, harder, then, thinking about what else to do, his fingers search for and find a nipple, brushing against it gently. 

Now is not the time to get distracted by how interesting it is but it's so interesting, the way she has all the same drives she did before but John's interests and desires and enjoyment are so prominent among them, and so effortlessly overriding.

She does, however, think he will enjoy it very much, when she moans again and presses up into his touch and says "Please hurt me, Master?"