Gullable

One of my Master’s new favorite games to play he calls “Gullibility.”  It’s probably one of his most simple ideas really – he puts me into trance and then just tells me that everything that he asks me to do I will find completely normal and not at all strange.  He includes that he can ask questions about how I feel about these things and I will also find that normal.  It will all be reasonable and normal, no matter what.  It’s the playing equivalent of a cop inside my head constantly saying “nothing to see here” while standing by 3 murdered bodies. 

This evening he decided he wanted to play, so he put me in ‘gullible’ mode and asked me, so very nonchalantly, to take off all my clothes from the waist down (which I did without wonder) and then to start rubbing my cunt as he and I talked (which I also did.)  When he has me in this mode he takes great delight in asking things like “and this doesn’t seem at all odd?” specifically because he then gets to hear me answer “no, not at all.  Why would it?” while simultaneously fucking myself. 

“And if someone were to come to the door to, say, deliver a package – what would you do then?” he asked

“I’d go to and answer the door.”  I replied.

“Like this?  Naked from the waist down and fucking your cunt with your hand?”

“Of course.”  And then, as an after thought “but I’d have to shift and start fucking myself with my left hand since I really couldn’t sign with my left.”  Always practical, even when fucking myself in front of a total stranger.

Although I, by design, didn’t find it strange at all to be fucking myself while we chatted I did find it more challenging to keep up my end of the conversation sometimes, as it was still a very hot sensation and therefore distracting.  When I apologized to him for not keeping up my end of the conversation, as I was a little distracted by the nice feelings coming from my cunt, he solved the problem by telling me that for the next while I should just sit quietly and not say anything.  Of course I was not to stop diddling myself – oh no.  So there I sat, my cunt getting sloppy enough by this point that he could probably hear the slurping sound of my finger going in and out, in and out.  I think it was about here where I also began to breath a bit heavier. 

After we’d sat a few more minutes my Master asked how I was doing, and I mentioned that I was doing quite well.  Though I didn’t find it odd to be fucking myself while chatting I did find it a very good, good feeling on my privates.  We talked a bit about how I’d just keep doing this all night long if he wanted (and I would have), even in front of strangers should the situation arise, and from this he asked a new question.  “Sounds like something that a dirty slut would do, doesn’t it?”

Though I’d not have described myself as that up to that moment once I heard his extremely reasonable voice say it I knew that it had to be true:  I was a dirty slut.  Once we’d established that fact he asked for other concepts that came to mind when thinking about a dirty slut.  “Oh, you know,” I started – when in this state I somehow just know that it amuses him to hear me say these kinds of things in a completely average, almost bored or matter-of-fact voice – “a woman who will fuck anybody or anything, and is completely up for anything as long as it is sex.”  As I thought about it a bit more, though, I realized that was just the definition of a slut.  I still needed to account for the ‘dirty’ part.  “I suppose since I’m a dirty slut I will do any disgusting, humiliating thing as well, as long as it means I get to fuck.”  That gained me a little chuckle from my Master, as well as a bit of praise for a solid definition.  But he wasn’t even close to done yet.

“So with that idea in mind tell me what sorts of scenarios that brings to mind.”  I didn’t understand the question.  “What kind of solutions that could provide?” he tried again.  I locked onto his use of the word solution and wondered: ‘what problem were we solving?’  When I voiced this confusion he provided me a solution to solve.  “You’ve been wanting to spend money on a new laptop, and yet money is tight.  Does the knowledge now that you’re just a dirty slut provide a solution to that?” he asked, his voice the very definition of breezy.  But then I knew what he meant and I ran with it.

“Oh sure,” I started, “I see where you’re headed with this.  Sure, it would be a really good way to make extra cash to have me fuck guys for money.”  It felt as though I were the first person to ever have this idea.  “I’m not sure how to go about it, but I’m sure it would be lucrative as hell.”

“And you have no issues with that?” he asked.

“No, that seems like it would be a good solution, like you said.  You wouldn’t mind if I fucked other guys?”  As always my first and last concerns were for him.

“Well you’d be doing it on my command, wouldn’t you?”  I agreed, of course.  “Well then no, I wouldn’t mind in that case.”

I sat quietly, a constant squelching noise now coming from my wet cunt as I continued to plow in and out.  After a minute I thought to ask him “Wait, so are you telling me that I should?  Did you just command me to do that?”  I wanted to be sure I hadn’t missed a pivotal moment, as I am always eager to follow his commands.

“Do you think it’s a good idea to do so?”

“Well, it will solve the money problem we’ve been having…  Yeah, I guess I do.” 

“Good then.  I’ll go ahead and put the ad in the paper then.  So, what do you think it should say?”  I thought about this a little as my hand continued to chug away in and out of my soggy cunt.  Being the writer of the couple it seemed like I should be able to craft this well.

“Hmmm.  Something like ‘Dirty, disgusting slut available for rent.  Willing to do anything...’ well, I was going to name a few kinds of sex, but I guess that just highlights the ‘slut’ part.  But we need to highlight the dirty, disgusting part, so we should talk about those kinds of things… ‘Willing to do any dirty, disgusting act including…”  There I faltered, my humility rearing it’s head and fighting with the version of me that he was crafting now.  I hemmed and hawed a little here until my Master gave me a nudge, asking what I was thinking.  “I was considering what extreme things I could do, being a disgusting, dirty slut.  Like, I was going to say ‘will do all disgusting, dirty things including anal sex, golden showers and…’ I’m not sure what to include there.”  Master was not going to give me any suggestions – his enjoyment came from seeing what kind of holes I would dig for myself.  I did not disappoint.  “Oh, I guess another good one would be gang bangs.  ‘Will do all disgusting, dirty things including anal, golden showers and gang bangs.  Contact her Master to schedule.’ And then we’d use one of your many email addresses I suppose?”

“Sounds good, sounds good.  And you’re good with fucking several men at once?”  If I’d been able to truly pay attention I would have heard that smile in his voice and known he was luring me down a hole.  But he’d removed me of that attention, and so down the hole I went. 

“Well it seems like that would be something that we’d be able to charge more money for, so that would be a very good idea.  And since I am a dirty slut it’s certainly something I’d do, so…”

Our conversation went on and on like this.  We determined that my worthless body could fetch only a pitiful $50 an hour, and that I’d devote four hours a night to this new side-job, with all nighters being scheduled on Fridays and Saturdays.  Obviously I’d have to give up all the things that normally take up evening hours, and that I’d go ahead and tell my friends and family the true reason that I would no longer be available – that I was going to be fucking strangers for money from now on, since I was a dirty slut.  “After all,” Master reasoned, “you have told me how they always accept you for who you are, and that’s exactly what you are.”  And of course this also sounded perfectly reasonable.

I would collect the money, but as we talked I reasoned that, although I’d like the money for purchases I’ve had to put off, since I was his worthless slave and he my amazing Master really I didn’t deserve any of the money.  That it was much more reasonable for he to get all the money that I might earn.  “Tell you what,” he offered, showing his generosity.  “You’ll get the money and send it to me.  But if you want any of that money for something you can just beg me for it.  Sound right?”  And, of course, it did.

As our conversation continued on and on my Master would periodically ask me to recap what we’d decided so far because it pleased him to hear me tell him, in the most reasonable and measured of voices, how we planned to have me fuck strangers night after night for money that I would send to him and beg for.  How I’d specialize in fucking groups, such as bachelor parties, making sure that each of the clients got several chances to nail me in any hole that they wanted so they’d know they got their money’s worth.  And how I’d do all of this happily to please and serve him because that was my entire purpose in life, and was the thing I most wanted to do.

And all the while I lay on the floor, his voice pouring into my ears from the headphones as my hand never stopped thrusting in and out of my pussy.  We’d talked for so long and my work had never slowed, so by now my poor pussy was sloppy with wet, my hand thick with my enjoyment.  A puddle had formed under my ass as I leaked and leaked, but though I knew I was enjoying the feel of my constant fucking I never thought to question it.  My Master had asked me to do it, and that meant that it made perfect sense to do so.

Our conversation moved on to include my sexy best friend, and the idea that when next Master was in town we should arrange for him to finally put her under his will as well.  Once under his control he could turn her into a slut too, which would double his profits as she also began to sell her body for him.  “Did you make me a slut, Master, or was I already this way?” 

“Oh I made you into a dirty slut.  Before that you were a normal person.  You don’t mind that I did that, do you?” he asked me so casually.

“Of course not.” I replied.  “I was just curious.”  And then, as an afterthought, “And thank you for turning me into this, Master.”

I don’t remember all of the details of our conversation anymore.  I remember that by the end we had a plan that would be bringing thousands of dollars to my Master a week while giving me the opportunity to show what a completely disgusting slut he’d made me, utterly willing to do any low, humiliating, dirty thing any person might ask for.  Once we had the plan well set, including my hearing him typing away on his end, ostensibly placing the ad in the paper as we spoke, Master had me lie back.

“Now I want you to fuck yourself hard and deep, as hard and deep as you can.  You’re going to do that until I tell you to cum.  Do you understand?”  I did, and I did as he commanded.  I have no idea how long I lay there, plowing my two fingers deep into my cunt over and over, a sloppy squelch coming loudly from each thrust.  I lie there, imagining myself surrounded by strange men, each of them cramming their cocks into whichever of my holes they wanted, using me for their enjoyment so that I could obey my Master.  I fucked and fucked until finally I heard him give me that amazing permission.  As I finally came I felt wave after wave of tremendous release, floating down to the floor after all of that and lying there panting and thanking him over and over. 

And then, and only then, did he let me have my full mind back.  I was gullible no more.  At least until the next time he wants to play with me.

Our ABCs of BDSM

As Master and I are coming back to our dynamic we're building much more structure around things, one of the ideas we've both shared is a return to writing. But of course that requires of my Master a constant stream of assignments, and I don't want him to feel burdened. When thinking about how to ease my Master's burden I came up with my own assignment: to build this list of our ABCs of BDSM. Now I know that there are some very classic words that many members of our uber-kinky community would add to such a list, such as "pain" for P or "enema" for E. These are wonderful things for those folks who enjoy them, and I encourage everybody to build their own list in the privacy of their own... doggy kennel... or latex sleep sack... But this list is built around the things that Master and I find hot or titillating.

My thought is that my Master can, going forward, refer to this list for ideas for writing assignments, thereby making it easier for him to keep me ever-improving and ever-growing to better please and serve him in the future. There's a good chance that many of these assignments will end up here, so that you guys can enjoy them too. For now just enjoy this silly little list... (btw, those things in brackets after each word are additional words that came to me for those letters too. because you can never have too much kinky idea fodder!)


Our ABC’s of BDSM:

A. Anal [Ask Nicely]
B. Bondage [Blowjob, Bimbo]
C. Crawling
D. Domination
E. Exhibitionism [Erotic]
F. Fear [Fucktoy]
G. Gag
H. Humiliation [Hair, Hypnosis]
I. Induction
J. Jism
K. Kneeling
L. Licking [Leash]
M. Masturbation
N. Nipple Clamps
O. Ownership [Objectify]
P. Pet [Punishment, Panties, Piercing]
Q. Quiver
R. Rough Sex
S. Spanking [Slapping, Sucking cock, Slut]
T. Tattoo [Tail]
U. Use
V. Vapid
W. Whip
X. Xstacy
Y. Yell
Z. Zealous

Return the Non-conquering Non-hero

Welcome to Someday!

Just over 6 months ago I walked away from here and at that time it was completely the thing to do. Posts had become few and far between, and there was very little to share with those folks who still wanted to be readers. But with time there have been some changes, and I am going to see if those changes will allow me to come back here and share.

Master and I are still together -- a fact that is more than a little bit amazing, and something that we both can say we have had to work to protect. However we're still every bit as in love, if not more so, as we've ever been. And a nice bonus I had learned to live without is returning to our lives as we begin again to experiment with our kinky side. We're going slow, as we know that in the past we'd rushed things and created a dynamic that we couldn't maintain, so it's hard to know when we'll have something exciting to report. But for now I'm also going to learn how to share those parts of my life and existence that are less us (Master and I) and more just me. Hopefully there will be some folks who will enjoy that aspect as well.

The future is very unclear, but when it becomes more clear I'll write about it on this blog. Good luck to us all!

Farewell, Adieu, have a good time!

I’m sure this will come as no surprise to most who might still be reading, but I’m going to ‘retire’ this blog. I can’t claim trauma or catastrophe – things are essentially fine. Master and I are still together and completely in love. But for many reasons too numerous to list and too mundane to detail the kink side of our relationship has faded away, leaving nothing to write about here. For a while I hoped there would be other things I could still enjoy to write about, but I’ve found that coming here just makes the loss of the kink side of my life sad all over again, so I need to walk away.

I’ll leave this blog up for those who come through and want a little titillation. And who knows – maybe someday I’ll be back! But for now I hope the rest of you continue to have a robust, thrilling life of kink and rest assured that I’m reading all of YOUR blogs regularly!!

The Elephant in my Mind

I should have seen tonight coming. Master informed me this morning that I was not allowed panties. I was already at work when this edict came, which I foolishly thought might absolve me from the fashion requirement. His response? “Guess you’ll have to do something about that then.” I knew what that meant, and 5 minutes later I returned to Master with my panties bunched into my pocket. He rewarded me with the greatest of praises: “Good girl.”

This pantiless sensation kept me aware all day. Aware of my submission, of my obedience, of my cunt. He added to this constant distraction with words that push, push, pushed me down to the place he likes me. In my head I spent the bulk of my day kneeling at his feet, gazing up at him longingly. When I went to the restroom I discovered I’d soaked through my pants and had simply been lucky that nobody had stopped by to chat yet that day!

By the time I came home the work day had cut into my focus and I’d pulled out of the mindset he’d created that morning. As I lay on my bed chatting with him via Skype I felt very normal; very mundane. I had someplace to be this evening so I couldn’t stay forever, so we chatted about life, love, everyday things. Soon he’d be headed off to sleep and I’d be off to my evening. “Could I see you?” he asked and I turned on my camera.

“Before I go to sleep,” he purred into my ears “you’ll need to show me that you are, in fact, not wearing panties.” My body hummed as I unfastened my slacks, kneeling on the bed so that the camera captured me only from knees to waist. As I pushed my pants down my legs I heard the front edge of that word: “Freeze.”

When I came back to myself I was in the same position with one important difference: my right hand was wedged between my legs. I could tell from the remaining tingle that he’d had me rubbing myself for the camera. I composed myself and then, remembering the importance of permission, I asked if I could move my hand away. He gave me some non-committal approval and I pulled my hand away, sitting back on the bed. Or at least that was my plan. But instead, seemingly in response to my attempt to pull away my hand, I began to fuck myself, my middle finger diving deep into me over and over. I erupted in squeaks, pants, groans as Master, his voice thick with amusement, asked me “What’s going on, baby?”

I tried to speak, but my voice escaped between deep breaths. “You tell me!” I snapped back (clearly too focused on my dilemma to consider what a bad time it was to talk back to my Master.) I gave up trying to control my hand and once I changed the goal my assault on my cunt stopped. “As soon as I tried to move my hand…” I felt like I shouldn’t have to say any more – my situation was obvious, as was the fact that it had to be by his design.

“Yes?” he grinned, forcing me to find the words to finish my sentence.

“I started fucking myself.” I finished, frustrated. “I couldn’t stop fucking myself.” Now I felt trapped – kneeling on the bed, my right hand deep inside my cunt. If I tried to pull it away I knew I’d go straight back to fucking. I’d found the solution, but only part of it. So very trapped. But Master wasn’t going to leave it there.

“And even as you sit there, thinking about what you want to do, you realize that just the simple thought of removing your hand now has that effect, does it not?” As he said it, it became so and my hand went back to work, fucking me furiously. I groaned in passion and frustration. He laughed in response, enjoying the show.

On and on it went, with my finger burrowing into me and my body betraying me. I could not NOT think about my hand; about what I couldn’t stop doing to myself. Instead I tried focusing on something else. Nothing could compete with the thought of Master watching me fucking on camera. Finally I found a thought I could focus on completely: my mouth sliding up and down on Master’s cock. I closed my eyes and let my mind drift to kneeling over my Master, filling my mouth with his organ hungrily, and my hand slowly came to still. I fell down onto my other hand on the bed, exhausted. I thought I’d found the solution, and he’d be proud of my ingenuity. My creativity. He’d free me from his trap now. I heard his laugh grow.

“What are you thinking about, my pet?” he asks. I tell him the truth – that by thinking about worshipping his cock I could stop my thinking about my hand. I heard in his voice he was proud of my solution, but he wasn’t about to let me get off that easy. “Very good. Still, you know what you are working so hard to avoid. And really, do you want to stop?” I knew that my cunt was now throbbing from attention. Even when thinking about his cock fucking my face I could still feel the thump of my heart in my pussy. I tried to stay focused by his words pushed my new image back, and gradually my hand came back to life.

Though I could stop things for small windows it wouldn’t last. Over and over and OVER my hand would get away from me and I’d be back to panting and moaning. Soon my symphony of worship included the thick “slurp” of my hand as it plunged into my cunt over and over, my juices squishing out around my fingers. I gave up trying to stop – I’d lost control completely and I could hear how much my Master was enjoying his win. But as I built up speed and enthusiasm I felt myself hearing the edge of the cliff. So I asked, begged him. “Master, can I cum?”

“Not yet.” He smiled. I cried out in dismay. I fucked and fucked, holding myself at bay but I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer. The combination of the feeling of my hand and the feeling of his control; of my helplessness; of my humiliation were getting the best of me. I started to worry out loud.

“What if I can’t stop from cumming?” I asked him. “what if I can’t help it? If I cum without permission? What if I do it, Master?” He held me back with encouraging words for a while, but finally he changed his mind.

“Alright, my dear. You can cum.” I was sure that would be my release. “But you can’t stop.”

“Can’t stop cumming? Or can’t stop fucking myself?” I panted, panicked.

“Well in a way both.” I could hear how amused he was. “You cannot stop latter, and that will cause the former.” He was right, of course.

I let the walls down and fell back on the bed, cumming and cumming. Each wave that crashed over me seemed like it would have to be the end, but then another would follow behind it. And all the while my hand kept cramming into me, deeper and faster and hotter. It was an unstoppable maze of fucking and cumming; cumming and fucking. I have no idea how long he kept me in this puzzle. I was his toy and he enjoyed the playing. I fell into a hole in my own mind, where I could not escape the loop. Things became simple; clear. I need just keep pleasing Master in this way. If I kept fucking myself, my hand and my cunt in view of the camera, providing him the show he desired then I’d need worry about nothing else. I was doing the only thing that mattered in all the world: obeying. Just as I began to fear that he’d leave me this way forever, fucking my mind into oblivion, I heard the words I cherish.

“Open Wide Cum Slut.” My hand never stopped, but now I focused on opening my mouth wide to allow my Master’s cum to fill it. Once he finished cumming he told me “swallow it all down.” And I eagerly did so. I was still swallowing when he said “now you will cum for me once more. Once you’re finished you will return to normal, remembering everything.” This, my seventh and final time cumming, was the most amazing. I cried out over and over as I finally came down from this high. My hand, soaked with my cream, finally stopped moving. I lay there spent. And content. And happily obedient. The way that Master so often makes me.

Fantasy vs Reality

The submissive blogosphere has been buzzing lately about how one of us sacrificed her hair to show her obedience to her Master. As you’d imagine, the universal reactions have been “Wow, could you do that? I’m not sure I could!” followed quickly most of the time by “Wow, wow, hot.” As you’d also imagine, it’s also lead to some conversations between subs and their Doms. Master and I were no exception.

“One of the sub bloggers I read was shaved bald by her Master simply because he wanted it that way.” I mentioned, rocking my best nonchalant. “I could never imagine doing that.” He let the silence linger more than a little bit before he answered.

“But the idea is also hot, isn’t it…” It was a question, but it was also not a question. It was Master knowing my deep, dark insides better than I do.

And he was NOT wrong.

Don’t get me wrong – the idea of being bald is not hot to me. Forgetting the fact that I think I’ve got a pretty bumpy head I’ve also got a very necessary vanilla life and no ability to tell a convincing lie. If my Master were to make such a demand on me I’m sure I would ask, nay BEG AND PLEAD, for him to reconsider. But as I did my begging I would also be completely soaked between my legs at the very idea that Master would want to have that level of sway over me, especially for the simple reason that he merely wants it. But for me I’m lucky as I’ve got a Master who has better sense about what is best for me than I do myself.

This is a recurring theme between he and I. My fantasies are deep, dark things that I could never admit to anyone but him. It’s part of the bond that we share that I know he takes me as I am, even though the way I am is so very, very wrong. But I also take extreme relief in the knowledge that Master would never let me take action on any of my more severe fantasies. He has the sense that I lack, and saves me from myself.

But is this not part of every sub/Dom relationship? We give all of our control to our Masters, but also all of our trust. We say to them “I am trusting that you will know both how far to push me, and when to stop.” My Master has showed me a million things in my life that I would never have tried, some of them even after I specifically said I could or would not. He let me have my fear at first, knowing that if he had pushed me then and there I’d have spooked and maybe fled the entire relationship. This was protecting me, but he also knew that it would be best for me to have these experiences eventually and he knew when was the time to give me the push I needed. And now he knows when to pull me back.

Left up to me I’d find myself on all fours, naked and being walked through a local park at the end of a leash just for the humiliating moment of being returned to my right mind in front of strangers as they point and I wag my fucking tail. This would be VERY, VERY BAD and yet the idea of my Master trancing me, transforming me and parading me in public as the bitch in heat he can make me be also makes me drip. But my safety is my Master. This is something he would never do, never even let happen. I adore him for protecting me, even from myself.

At the same time I think a little part of me reads the blog posts about the more intense, demanding Masters out there and wishes I could give my Master just a little push.

So here is my question to you fellow Doms out there who might be reading: What is a fantasy that you've had which even your Dom would never agree to do?

When It's This Important Take Matters Into your Own Hands...

Q: “i wonder where you got that leather anklet from, i want something like that for myself but have no idea where to find one.”

You can get the background on this a little by reading the original blog post about my Everyday Collar. At the time I first posted about my beloved collar I tried to decide whether I should provide the name of the artist who made it, and finally decided no. The reason was simply I hadn’t asked her permission to out her as THE place to go for beautiful slave-wear, and this is a customer base I think one deserves to have a say about.

While I can’t tell you the exact artist that created my collar (at least without her permission) I can tell you what I did to find her, and I’m confident that anyone interested in a similar item will have the same luck. The fact of the matter is this: there are a LOT of skilled, talented artists out there looking for someone to give them a challenge and you need only find them!

I highly recommend www.etsy.com. This is where Master and I began our search. We looked for something ready-made, and there were items that were kind of what we wanted, but not quite. But by searching and finding products (normally neck or wrist cuffs) that we did like we narrowed down the search for who to contact for our specific goal. And one of the things I love about Etsy is that the artists pretty much all like to do custom work!

Once we found someone who’s available products were a lot like what we envisioned we emailed to her asking about what kind of changes she would make to the existing line, and as we suspected she was eager to please. (a girl after my own heart!) We asked about what we wanted, she sent us questions she’d need to have answered and the negotiations went from there.

If you are asking someone to make something to your custom specifications you’ll spend a little bit more. But to me it’s very worth it in order to have something that is exactly what you want. Especially for anything as important as this was to me.

Thanks again for your question and, as always, if anyone else has something to share please fill up the comments!

Advice from the also lost...

Q: “I didnt realize I was submissive until I was introduced by my current Master. I enjoy my role, but I dont recieve that much attention and there is very little communication since we both have busy schedules. Im debating on asking for my release Any advice”

The first question and it comes at a most coincidental time, as I’ve had my own thoughts about transfer of power recently.

First, I was also totally unaware of my submissive nature until my Master showed me this side. But once I accepted this about myself the feelings overwhelmed me. In only a few short months I found that this was something I’d needed for most of my life; I found a new kind of sanity and confidence from accepting and enjoying this part of myself. I hold firmly to the knowledge that my Master and I will never be apart, regardless of the nature of our relationship, but I also know if we ever stop being lovers I will have to find this kind of dynamic in any other love I seek.

I, like so many subs out there, don’t just enjoy being submissive. It’s deeply rooted in who I am. I need this; crave it. You see it time and time again in the blogs of other submissives – that when their Master is unable to keep them in line, dominate them the way they need they begin to get anxious or even panicky. They rebel or lash out or even throw tantrums and I do the same. There is some sort of mania that seeps into me the longer I have to maintain myself; I count on my Master to keep my brain calm and quiet and when he can’t I begin to panic.

As our vanilla lives have consumed more and more of our time Master has been overworked, overbooked and just plain overwhelmed by his life. I’ve tried to support him in every way possible, and I’ve been as patient as I am able, hoping that he’ll be able to, and interested in, putting me through my paces sometime soon. But I’ve also had doubts – wondering if he’s lost interest in managing me. Or if the work involved with being my Dom (and it is work, subs – never forget that. We have BY FAR the easier part of this gig! If you haven’t thanked your Dom for taking so much time and energy with you lately go and kiss his feet right now! The rest of us will wait…) is still worth it to him. My confidence fades and the ensuing fear sends me thinking about how else I could find the control I need.

I must be very clear here: I love my Master as much more than just my Dom. He’s my partner and my lover and my very best friend and I adore him forever and to the end of the world. I have absolutely no interest in leaving him ever, even if he were to tell me tomorrow that he’s grown tired of the dynamic and wishes an only vanilla life with me.

But I also know that this need he’s found in me will never go away. And so what would I do? How would I stay with him, but also stay sane? I’ve wondered about asking him to release me as his sub so I could find another to dominate me, either now while his life is so busy or ongoing if he’s done with our kink. Someone just to remind me of my place on the floor while I keep my beloved place at my Master’s side. No actual love for this new Dom – only obedience. Could I do this with anyone other than my Master? My submission is so linked to him, I wonder if this would even be possible?

I don’t know that I can give you advice on this question, as you can see I’m just as lost as you, but I know the questions that I’d have to ask in your position: What is the priority for you – your relationship with the man you currently call “Master” or your newly found submissive life? If you wish to keep your relationship with your current Master could you do that while letting someone else dominate you? Could your Master? And though you’re unsatisfied with the current amount of interaction you two get to have, are you willing to go without any Master at all once your current Master lets you go? Because finding the right Dom is as difficult as finding any kind of partner – there’s no guarantee that you’d walk out into the kink world tomorrow and find your Mr. Right (Dom-wise) waiting for you.

I think if you asked yourself these questions and answered yourself honestly you’d at least have the beginnings of an answer to your original question. Certainly there are many people out there who have sub/Dom lives without romantic love. They find people who are not interested in love, only kink or control, and they find a way to combine these sides of their life. My mind boggles at the idea, but if you and your current Master were t honestly look at what you have, versus what you really want, your next step would probably be clear. Good luck!

Does anyone else out there have any answers for this first question? Please fill up the comments!

Surprise

Life is too, too full. The more it fills, the less my Master and I have time for play. I know, this is an old song that I’ve played so many times before. The vanilla world sometimes forces the more interesting flavors to take not just a backseat, but to sit in the trunk or run behind, and lately that’s been our situation. With the many new pressures burdening Master my duty now is to be whatever support he needs, and in all things as long as I am doing what he wants I’m happy.

But I still miss our play.

At four this morning my alarm sounded. I’d set it because I’d not been able to stop pining for Master since he’d gone to sleep on the other end of the internet the previous afternoon. I knew that he’d be awake now and hopefully free, so I woke up and reached out to him. The conversation was lovely; I blame my still sleepy brain on having missed any indication whatsoever that Master was in a mood. When I went from lying sprawled across the bed to on my knees, my shoulders dug into the mattress and my finger slipping over my wet slit I wasn’t even slightly ready. Even less so for the feel of his incredible cock plowing into me from behind.

I think I was moaning and gasping before I became fully conscious.

His cock ramming into me shoved my face into the bed over and over, drowning out my squeals. I wondered if anything more was coming, but this morning he was focused; driven. He fucked me over and over, basking in my helpless noises, occasionally chuckling at my pleading for mercy. But he knew I wanted no mercy, and he showed me none. I couldn’t know how long I bounced there, but eventually I heard my voice panting that I needed to cum. He asked me with a sly smile in his voice “do you want to cum?” I think my “Yes!” escaped before he finished the question, but still he asked another question. “Do you need it?” Still I cried out to him.

“Then beg…”

And beg I certainly did. I needed it, I would do anything for it, whatever he wanted, I loved to be used this way, please let me cum… anything that came to my mind tumbled out of my babbling, desperate lips as he never let up on my sopping wet cunt. He let me beg, but he told me no anyway; possibly just to hear my sob at having to hold on longer. I had to be so careful to not lose control – for just a split second I wondered if he was stroking his cock as he played and the image in my mind almost pushed me over the edge. But I was a good girl – I held on as he fucked my cunt and he fucked my mind.

But at last he began the countdown and I knew I was almost at my release. When his warm, thick voice poured the word “one” into my ears I exploded with yelps and gasps and words of thank you, thank you, god thank you…

He always says it was his pleasure. But I know that nobody has the pleasure that I do in that moment.

With Freedom Comes...

So for the first time I am allowed to write whatever I want, without worrying whether it meets to anyone else's expectation. A level of freedom that this blog has not had. I should be giddy with possibility, but I'm not.

As is so often true with those of us of the subbie persuasion, freedom leads to panic. We are a people who are most happy when others are controlling us, so too much freedom is honestly a bad thing.

I've sat down before my blank page a dozen times since my last post, sure that there must be something to share with you guys. After the wonderfully supportive comment from Kara & Jessica you'd think I'd be bursting at the gills with things to tell you guys. At least I certainly thought I would be. Turns out not so much.

So I'm hoping maybe you guys can help me get the ball rolling?

I've created a formspring account -- two, actually. One for me and one for my Master. If anyone out there has a question, now or any time in the future, they can just go to our formspring accounts and ask them. I'll promise you now that I will strive to answer any questions within 3 days of getting them. I cannot make any promises about questions to my Master, but if I can help him get them answered I definitely will.

I cannot imagine a subject that would be off-limits, given the things I've already shared with you guys, but I do reserve the right to NOT answer a question here if I find there is reason. The only rule I'll make right now is anything that seeks to find out who either my Master or I are in our "real worlds". It is important to us both that this side of our world not encroach on the parts that we share with our friends and family and I'm sure I can trust you, my wonderful readers, to respect that. But otherwise I say go crazy!

My hope is not just that you'll provide me subjects for future posts specifically answering your questions, but that the questions you might ask will give me inspiration for future posts of my own. Thanks in advance for feeding the attention slut!

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes...

As is so often the case in life, things change. Luckily the things that have changed for Master and I are all primarily good – increased opportunities, activities, etc. – but even still it has left us with less and less time to play, or to even focus on the kinkier parts of our relationship. Our needs have been much more for support and nice, vanilla companionship.

Don’t misunderstand – we are still together, I’m still his toy, pet, plaything, slave and he is still my Owner and Master. We’ve begun to plan for his next trip home, this time in December for the holidays, and when he is here I’m very sure stories will come. Even now when we DO get the chance to play together we always indulge. But because it’s not as possible these days I’ve felt bad that this blog has been left sad and abandoned.

Therefore there are two changes I’m here to announce. The first is that things here will just be more quiet for a while. I will try to come and post when possible, but if time passes between posts please know that it’s not our preference to be absent and you’ve not been abandoned. The second is that the focus of this blog will be widening up some so that a lack of time to play doesn’t lead to even more of a lack of things to write about. I’ve envied some of my fellow subbie bloggers and their ability to write about whatever they want within this vein. Because of how things started here our blog has been limited to telling stories of our dynamic, but with Master’s permission I will no longer be required to run my posts by him, and if there are things about my subbie life that I wish to write about I now have that option. I hope that the additional items will also be interesting to my readers!

I hope that you all are good, and are enjoying your own personal kinks!

Spiralling Down

I sensed something was up – there was an edge to his voice. A tension in his tone, but he was making me wait and wonder what he had in mind. The camera was on me this night, and I was wearing the slinky, short dress that he likes. As I sat on the couch, talking about whatever it was we were talking about then, I heard the shift just as the word came from his mouth. “Freeze.”

I came back to myself with a faint image in my vision, like when you look at the camera just as the flash goes off and see that flash the rest of the night. Everywhere I looked I saw the world overlapped by this spiral, turning before me. It distracted me, almost irritating, and I closed my eyes to clear the view. It stayed, and I found myself distracted by something else too… a need.

Master could see I was struggling. “What’s the matter?” he asked. I tried to bury the twinge, but at last I confessed to him that I was feeling a pull from between my legs. I asked him for permission to indulge, and with a smile in his voice he took pity on me. He had me make sure the camera is pointed to where he can see, but he let me touch. And touch I did. One hand stroked my clit while the other wandered from cunt to chest. I stroked and probed, but it was not enough.

I asked Master for permission to use my glorious, blue glass dildo and he once again showed me his generosity and granted me permission. I worked the cold glass into my cunt, then back out, and in a few minutes I’d found a fast, furious rhythm. I fucked myself in full view of the camera, moaning and gasping. Master asked how I’m doing and I purred something about doing so well…

He asked again, and each time I enjoyed finding another naughty response, but the third time I stumbled in my mind a little. I was hot, and horny, but something else. Something in my head was getting… fuzzy. The edges of my thinking was getting slightly frayed, but not enough to keep the need from moving me forward. So I fucked myself on and on, loving that Master could see me doing it.

The fucking, I realize, was causing the fuzzy. Though I wanted to just love the feeling of the hard, smooth pole slamming in and out of me, I was distracted by the way my brain was clouding over. Master could see my struggles and asked what I was thinking, and I tried to explain, but the most I could say at first was that I was getting fuzzy. As I kept plowing into my pussy he continued to probe about what I was thinking, what I was feeling.

The blur over my thoughts became a shadow, and then I recognized what was happening. He was pushing me down again, sliding the true me back down into the hole where I stopped being a participant and became instead a spectator. This was a new facet to our play, and it stokes me up intensely. Once my strong hold on the world starts to slip I know I’m changing – the question is always what will he change this time?

The answer this time comes with the first growl. Master knows that the thought of being his eager, obedient pet, trotting along on my hands and knees at the end of his leash, is one of THE most erotic ideas for me, and lately he’s been generous indulging me here. This night was another gift from him, and the dildo crashing in and out of my cunt pushed my mind further into the hole as his pet took more and more control. Growling and whining and panting I fuck my mind away.

Master asks me repeatedly what I’m thinking and feeling until the words are gone once again, left just with animal sounds and my animal mind. When I can no longer answer him with words he laughs that dark, sinister yet sexy laugh that I adore. I listen carefully over my pants and whines and I hear him stroking his cock on his end of the line. He’s got his happy, horny slut puppy back to play with and play he does. With me, and with himself.

The fucking goes on for a long time, each thrust just moving me further from my mind and more wild in the throes of passion. But at last through the animal fog I hear his voice.

“Open Wide, Cum Slut."

I open my mouth to him and I feel his hot, tasty cum shoot into it. He lets me swallow. He lets me cum, all grunts and pants and barks. And as I cum I come back to him, human once again. But still, and always, obedient to my Master.

Best Seat in the House

Life is very full. Very busy. Master and I only get so many chances to play, and as with all things it’s up to him to decide when; decide where; decide how. I trust his decisions, as the way his mind works is one of the sexiest things about him. But sometimes the suspense kills me.

One weekend I woke and found he was there. Starting my day with him is one of the perks of weekends; as we chatted and lazed around my guard dropped. I was surprised when, in a split second, I went from sprawled across the bed to on my hands and knees, his hard, strong cock pumping into my cunt. I pushed my mind to catch up; soon I pumped back, enjoying the feeling of him inside me even as his voice fell from the headphones into my mind. I adore the feeling of being fucked by my Master and revel in it whenever he gifts it to me.

But there was more happening here. After a few minutes I began to feel something… shifting? Something in my mind was sliding back, losing some purchase. Losing grip. I groaned and ground back and grunted and… growled. A low, guttural rumble from my chest. Where it came from I couldn’t say, but it sent a shockwave through my already slippery snatch. I was powerless to stop the fucking, fucking, fucking, but I began to realize that this was pushing me toward something.

Master asked me how I was doing and I tried to reply, to use my words. I think I said fine? Good? Something like that, but whatever the word I used wasn’t the important part. It was the amount of work to get a word to come out that I focused on. The further along he fucked me the more my grip on humanity became slippery. I clutched at speech and spit out some word that showed me I was still a person, but almost immediately after my words came the first whine. High and squeaky and beyond my control. And here I noticed that my heavy breathing was coming in shorter, staccato dashes. Fast, quick breaths in and out.

Pants. I said my word, my totem of humanity again even though the lame word came nowhere close to an accurate description of the way he was rocking me. I just needed to hold on to my humanity and this word was how I was sure I could do it. I slammed back against the feel of his cock in my cunt, pushing along my descent, and told him I was fine. And then I growled and groaned and panted and panted.

I felt the hard, hot leather around my neck and the pull of my leash holding up my head. The sound of his pleased laughter sent a warm gush of cream sliding down my thigh and I panted harder and harder. The growls became more primal, and when next Master asked how I was doing the words were gone. I whined instead, the closest way I had anymore to beg him for mercy. I begged for him and he enjoyed my fall away from being his slave, further down to being his pet.

He fucked me and fucked me, and finally he asked if I wanted to cum. I made my animal noises, not sure how to get what I needed, so he gave me a clear command: “Beg.” And beg I did. As my animal rutting continued non-stop I let my desperate, wanton begging whines fill the room and he let me beg for a long time. When at last he told me to cum I let my head fold down onto the bed and growled into the start of the rush. When I heard myself barking into the orgasm I wanted to stop, to quiet, but the need was so much stronger than my pride. I barked and yelped and growled and whined and came and came and came for him.

As I felt the rush I also felt the last of my humanity fall down into a dark hole. From inside this tiny place I could see my world around me, but couldn’t touch anything. I felt this new bitch me around me like a shadow, but I was a voyeur of everything that happened now. I felt myself being my Master’s bitch. I felt the emotions and sensations, but I also felt my human reactions to the humility and degredation, and my inability to do anything but ride along.

In my new bitch form I knelt on the bed, my tongue hanging gently from the corner of my mouth, with my Master’s voice in my ears. My mind, so simple now, lay satisfied and flat. Master commanded me to speak and I barked happily for him. He commanded me to beg and my eager, begging whines flowed out. He called me a good girl and I swooned. At some point I became aware that I was “wagging” my “tail”, so happy to be obeying Master.

“Speak.” Again I barked. He repeated this one a few times, and each time my obedience was instantaneous. There was no thinking – only obeying. When next he told me to beg he included that I should assume the proper begging position. I faltered for a moment, nervous about trying to balance on only my hind quarters, but with a moment’s preparation I tucked my paws below my tits, careful not to block his view of them, and begged again. And my reward, another “good girl”, was the greatest gift possible. Each time he praised me I panted excitedly for my Master; for his pleasure.

Eventually Master brought me back to reality. My legs were slick all up and down from my constant and overwhelming pleasure at being his pet. He let me go, but he let me live these moments, and let me wonder for even just a second whether he might leave me this way, barking and begging for his love and enjoyment. Wonder… would that be the worst thing? Or the best?

Evolution

427 days ago I took a leap. I replied to an email I knew I should delete, and opened a door to a person I knew that I should fear. The first steps were full of excitement and danger and risk and hot, sizzling sex. The steps went down, down, down and constantly curved, so that every moment I came face to face with something totally new. I was so sure that this would be a short trip – that the bottom of the stairs would be the end of the journey.

It wasn’t.

A year after we started down this simple, kinky and ‘completely without future’ path I’m amazed at the changes. Master began this just to have something fun to play with, and I was lead along by my nose from one earth-shattering new experience to the next, but neither of us imagined that it would be long term, or that we’d find more to our connection than the sex and the control. We knew, so completely, we knew what we were getting into, one way or another. Temporary and superficial and a whim. Just a kinky, perverted whim.

And still the days bled to weeks and the weeks folded into months and the months blossomed into more than a year. We’ve preserved the kink and sex and control that was the initial temptation, but to that we’ve added more. Respect (strangely enough, I know) and friendship and companionship… and surprising, tremendous love. Somewhere between the collar and the leash and the trigger phrases that transform me into a toy or a pet I was lucky and smart enough to fall in love with my Master.

The last two posts were highlights of our time together this summer. There were scores of other smaller, but no less heady, kinky delights throughout the visit. But the thing that surprised me the most, and largely lead to the distraction that kept this blog so quiet, was how much I adore, delight in and totally, totally love the man who has owned me for the last 427 days.

I can’t wait to see what the next 427 days has in store for us.

Good Girl gets a Treat

I am many things for my Master, and often he enjoys having me tell him, over and over, what all these things are. The words would fall from my mouth in a kinky waterfall, liquid and languid: “I am your slave, your slut, your toy, your fuckhole…”

Your pet.

Of all my titles, the one that most shakes me and makes me tingle is pet. A few weeks after he first found and claimed me he had me crawling through my home at the end of an invisible leash and the profound impact on my mind, on my libido, on my gushing cunt shocked me. Rocked me. Has never let me go, not since. I loved how low and humiliating that moment had me, simply to please this man. This was a flavor I’d never tasted before, but I have craved it ever since.

Master knows this and I think he holds these moments as rare because of it. He knows that I would do just about anything for this feeling, and that if I am allowed to indulge in it too often it will lose some of its shine. He lets my cravings rage and boil and every once in a while he gives me just a little bite from his end of the leash. This night was one of those moments.

He told me to strip. Wanted me bare and defenseless before him, and I quickly complied. Once naked he put me to my knees, buckling my collar around my neck, my leash already attached to the ring at the front. He turned and walked around the bed, pulling me crawling behind him. Once we reached my designated side of the bed he helped me hop up into it, positioning me where he wanted me before he began to lock my leash to the headboard. I loved the idea of being locked into place, unable to escape despite the fact that escape is always the farthest thing from my mind.

Once locked in place my Master began his own end-of-day process, climbing into the bed beside me. Late was the hour and he had been tired already, so I knew not to expect any more excitement. I lay beside his amazing body, my nipples tingling at the thoughts flashing through my mind, but I was good and didn’t push. Didn’t beg or whimper, didn’t show him my puppy dog eyes. I simply lay there, naked and chained and lightly panting. And just that was enough to bring his amazing cock hard, and his attentions to his eager pet.

He knelt before me, pushing my legs open and spread wide for him, and his hand snaked out, wrapping around the leash where it connected to my collar. He pushed his cock into my cunt, soaked and dripping with anticipation, and began to force himself to the back of my hole. Within a few strokes his movement went from fucking me to pounding me. Hard and deep, lightly snarling as his fist tightened even more at my throat, my collar.

I dissolved into my favorite pet persona as he held my leash and clobbered my cunt. I squealed and moaned and cried out with the passion and a little bit for pity, but I knew from the look in his eyes there would be none of that. And next came his magnificent words.

Like a dirty Disney narrator he told me what I was and what he was doing to me. He called me slut and pet and he pounded away, one hand never leaving the firm grip on my collar and leash while the other twisted my nipples or pulled my ass tight to allow for a harder hit. He fucked me and played with me and put me so perfectly in my place with each word and thrust.

When he finally let my orgasm crash through me I swear I secretly wanted to howl; my inner animal let loose as I look into his deep and evil eyes smiling down at me. I drifted off to sleep with visions of walks through the park on my leash running through my head. Happy to be pleasing my Master.

To Give and To Receive

He had THAT look in his eye. Wheels turning; gears clicking. I asked what he was thinking, and contrary to his normal M.O., he actually told me. “I’m thinking that this weekend we’ll have one full day of submission.” My heart skipped a beat, excited at a whole day to do nothing but serve. Much as Master and I both enjoy our places with each other we find that real life makes it hard to indulge constantly. Nothing like calling someone “Master” in the lunchmeat section of the grocery store to make you feel COMPLETELY conspicuous. But with this announcement I knew Master would be dedicating a whole day to our dynamic. The rest of the week went much too slow for my liking…

The night before our day he tranced me and adjusted my view on the world ever so slightly – he simplified me so that my focus was only on serving. I was still myself, but all the superfluous concerns of the world were quieted – I only concerned myself with whether I was pleasing my Master. I loved this focus; my shoulders were lighter and my smile easier. With this adjustment the world made complete sense, and how often can any of us say that? Master placed my beloved collar around my neck, attached the leash and shackled me to the bed for the night.

I woke a little early and crept out of the bed, careful not to wake him. After serving him a hot breakfast in bed I enjoyed an hour of cleaning the house. A task that would normally be a complete chore was a joy simply because I knew Master would enjoy a clean house. He came out of the bedroom to the couch, chatting with some online friends as I finished the house cleaning, and I beamed with pride as he bragged about his obedient slave, eagerly cleaning around him. To give himself just a little more to brag about, he pulled me to my knees before him, continuing to chat as I slurped hungrily on his cock.

I love to suck Master’s cock, and I love to serve. But the overwhelming pride of that moment, giving my owner pleasure and demonstrating my value all while my mouth was filled over and over with his tremendous manhood was so amazing as to be dizzying. Topped only by the moment when he took my hand and lead me to the bedroom so he could fuck me.

And fuck me he did. Master filled my cunt over and over, building me so quickly to a peak I’d rarely felt. I writhed and whimpered below him, feeling so lucky to be worth his attention. Worth his hands and his mouth and his hard, huge cock. His every touch was a gift; I couldn’t get enough of him. When the orgasm hit me it melted my mind to a puddle of happy, and I lie there on the bed completely conquered. There Master blindfolded me and bound my wrists and ankles to the bed, leaving me to stew in my ecstatic juices. He returned to the living room for a while, and I found the feeling of being left, as though I had fulfilled my purpose; a toy played with and now left, dirty and used on the floor – this only added to my intoxicating feeling of service to him.

After a while I heard Master come back into the room, sitting on the bed beside me. I heard him clicking on his laptop, but soon another sound caught my attention: he stroked his cock beside me as I lie there hoping to be interesting enough to attract his attention again. He ignored me, and that made me even more desperate. I focused my whole dark world on the sound of him stroking himself, picturing him in my mind, wishing I could reach out and touch any part of him. Was the sight of me, naked and wriggling against my restraints, any inspiration for him? Or was I barely an afterthought? His manipulations of my mind, of the way I looked at the world, focusing absolutely everything on him and his pleasure, made my desperation positively tasty. Made it sweet and thick and hot, like a syrup coating me. I panted as he came closer to the edge; as he came closer to me, crawling to my body.

The first warm, salty jet of cum hit my face and I gasped. And moaned. He coated my happy, grateful face with his cum, allowing me to rub his cock over my features before he slipped the tip in my mouth to suck the last drops. Once he was finished he once more left me there, letting the cum dry over my face as I remained trapped on the bed. I sneaked my tongue out little by little to lick the cum off of my lips, enjoying the familiar flavor. But mostly I lied there, still in the dark, happy to just wait for Master to want me again.

Finally he came back, enjoying the sight of his slave with her face smeared with his seed. He removed my blindfold and restraints, and pulled away the changes from my mind, letting me lie there and revel in my morning, but as myself rather than as his simplified slave. Though I thought that I’d slowly come down from the excitement, soon I realize that all of the moments had overwhelmed my libido and I was desperate for a little more pleasure. I asked my Master if I could fuck myself with my favorite blue, glass dildo, and he generously allowed me. As he sat beside me, once again sharing the joys of Masterhood with his online friends, I began to push my indigo toy in and out of me, building quickly to a head. I fell over the edge of the cliff and thanked him and thanked him and thanked him for a wonderful, mind-shattering day. Though I am always his, to do with as he wishes and pleases, it was a special joy to be ONLY his toy. I hope we get to do it again when he comes home for the holidays.

Priorities of a sort.

There's nothing to say -- I just fell off the face of the planet.

With Master here, we found indulgence to be our watchword. Between building on our amazing relationship, which is stronger than ever, and enjoying each other’s bodies and minds in every conceivable way, we couldn’t pull ourselves out of the fog of happiness long enough for me to write the blog posts that I should have.

Master’s gone back to his home now, and after adjusting to his absence again I’ll focus back on our blog. It’s amazing how much writing about the things that my Master can do to me makes me feel closer to him. So watch this space, first for updates on some of the wonderful things that happened while he was here, and then ongoing. And thanks so much to everyone who continued reading even while I vanished!

Gift

We’d talked about it a few times. Master knew completely how I felt about it – how the combination of the taboo and the utter and complete lack of control combined in this one act to make me shudder at the thought of it. In most relationships you’d expect the man – and especially the dominant man – to be pushing for this, but not with us. I’ve held my breath now for almost six months, wondering if I’d made my Master sufficiently intrigued with the idea that he might give it a try. Wondering if I might, while we’re finally together for weeks on end, feel my beloved Master fuck me in the ass.

There are many things at which my Master is (if you’ll pardon the turn of phrase) masterful; the mindfuck is most definitely one of them. Dangling ideas in front of me like steak before a dog, making me whimper and beg for them. Though he’s talked of ass-fucking, and has even let me feel it in my head, my Master has been ‘on the fence’ himself. The act doesn’t give to him, as it does to some men, that feeling of control. For him the best, most complete and satisfying control is that which he already has over me: total control of my mind. With a turn of some secret phrase he could have me down on all fours, wagging my tail and licking his hand, and so what satisfaction is there to take from the simple, and not entirely unmessy, act of cramming his huge cock into my rear? But he knows that for me it does all the things others might think it would. And as such he’s let me think about the idea of it almost constantly.

Screw that. CONSTANTLY.

On the second full day of my Master’s visit we enjoyed a long, hot shower together. I spent some time kneeling, his cock filling my mouth. The heat between us dwarfed the heat of the water, and that was enough for me. He pulled me to my feet and I thought we were finished with the shower and getting ready to step out, when he spun me around to face the opposite wall and, using his powers over my mind, “chained” my wrists to the wall above my head. At this point I knew something was happening. He positioned me just so, and I felt the tip of his cock sliding between my ass cheeks. My breathing quickened as he put his lips to my ear and whispered all the things I was thinking; that he could do this to me any time he wanted to. That I was his to do with as he pleased. That with but a small bit of extra pressure my ass could be full of him to overflowing.

I knew he was teasing. He was enjoying the mix of panic and lust in my panting. He was reveling in his complete and total ownership of me and of our dynamic. I enjoyed the thought that he still might do it, but I knew it wasn’t coming now. And so as his cock pushed against my rosebud and began to enter me I almost didn’t believe what was happening.

But within a few moments I felt myself stretched and full of him. He had decided that the time to reward me was right then after all.

I gasped and groaned. To both of our surprise some of his thrusts brought loud, almost painful cries from me, but I was quick to assure him I was feeling no pain. It was everything I had hoped for – dirty and hot and completely out of my control. His words in my ear never stopped, proving to be almost the more insidious of the fucking deep inside me, and I lost track of the number of times he had me thanking him for this oh so generous gift.

I hope there will be an encore of this moment – Master was only able to get about ½-way into to me, so large is his size and so unprepared was my ass. I think that my chance at round two is pretty good, given how many times my Master has enjoyed reminding me that he’s already taken me there once. Needless to say, it’s a thought that has filled many, many, many of my dreams and fantasies since.

Vignettes

Two weeks. Today marks three weeks of Master being here, in my state. In my home. In HIS home, where he so generously lets me stay. It has been an amazing blend of hours spent affectionately reconnecting after so much time apart and hours spent kneeling at his feet as he does with me what he will. So busy were we, and so fast did much of the first week go, I won’t be able to give you full breakdowns of each moment, but I can give you a nice narrative montage of some moments I hope I’ll NEVER forget:

Master commands me down on all fours on the bathroom floor the first night he arrives, as he’s decided then and there he won’t wait to take me. He rams into me with all his force, cry after cry rushing out of me whether I mean them to or not, so big is his cock. I clutch at the floor and gush around his cock, and he allows me to cum when he’s finished.

I come home from work to find Master in the bedroom, having enjoyed a most leisurely day off at the start of his vacation. He beckons me into the bedroom and kisses me, but as our lips touch the world flip-flops, and just like that I find myself kneeling, topless, with his cock in my mouth. It is filling my mouth with his hot, salty cum and I suck and suck, working to be sure not a drop escapes. He crooks a finger under my chin and lifts my eyes to his, saying the magic word: “Swallow.” Once I do he has me lovingly clean off the rest of his cock, the tip already spotless.

Master and I are again in the bedroom (this will begin to be a theme) and he removes my mind, leaving me his obedient toy. He has me strip and positions me on the edge of the bed, stepping up behind me and pushing his magnificent cock into me from behind. As I kneel there, open and receptive to him, but without a mind to register my actions or combat his, he gives the commands that allow me to return to the moment, but remembering how it felt to be a toy more than a woman. When the sensations return to me, and the memories, I leak and gasp at the humiliation and eroticism.

Lying in bed, wrapped around each other and enjoying the peace of the morning when once more I find the world has spontaneously jumped. Master now towers over me, his insidious grin sending shivers down my spine as his cock sends shockwaves into my cunt. I moan and grab for the headboard, and I hold on for dear life as my senses catch up with my situation. Another flash and my hands corral my tits around Master’s cock, the tip emerging over and over but staying just out of reach of my eager, outstretched tongue. Master turns me on and off, each time a new position or service of his amazing body, and soon my mind is reeling, beginning to feel more like a toy than a woman.

Just as he likes me.

A Brief Hiatus - A Post from her Master

I realise it has been quite a while since my slave has posted, and I felt I should write a small note to explain the situation. As you know, I am with my slave at the moment and one might have thought that there is plenty of post-worthy material being created. And, in this case, you would be entirely correct.

However, I have decided to take this first week and keep it for ourselves. She will write on the events of this week, have no fear, but for now we are enjoying ourselves with as few obligations as possible. Except of course those she has towards me, but those never really go away.

I hope you all are enjoying reading and rest assured, within a week my slave will have made another post.

Writing this post myself gives me the oppotunity to ask something of all of you; would you enjoy a chance to ask me some questions about our relationship, dynamic, more general questions about D/s or hypnosis play and so on? I know my slave would like it if I posted here occasionally, and I wondered whether you would enjoy such an oppotunity to pick my brain. Let us know in the comments either way.

The Master.