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.
Showing posts with label visiting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label visiting. Show all posts
Thursday, 12 August 2010
Sunday, 20 June 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, 26 May 2010
Distracted by Preparation
Apologies, my people. Many, many apologies. Such a long lapse is definitely without excuse and I can only apologize. I know that there needs to be some kind of punishment from my Master at some point, though the exact time and nature and such is yet to be set forth, but for you, the readers of my Master’s blog, I can only apologize, apologize, apologize.
Would that I had some excellent reason to give you for all this time being too quiet. An unpleasant illness or a family issue or losing the feeling in all of my fingers for close to a month. Sadly the closest thing to a reason I can state is that life has been just too busy. Too busy because Master and I have had lots in our lives of late and the lack of time for real play has lead to a lack of serious inspiration on my part. What’s more, in the next many days there will only be less time, not more, so inspiration will be even more difficult to find.
No inspiration, but Master was very clear that I was to return to my duties here, and so I found myself at a loss. I needed to find something to share with you all, but I was mostly aware of how much I need to do now and for the next week+. Preparation to make everything wonderful. Ideal. Utterly and Completely Perfect, and this needs to happen by Thursday June 3rd, because that is the day my Master returns.
Those of you who share my subby side understand the level of pressure when getting ready for your Master’s arrival, especially those of us who live so far from our owners and only get to be with them occasionally. You understand why it was that the spectre of all I want to get done loomed so large in my vision that I couldn’t see anything else around it. I could only see all that I wanted to be ready for him. How much I wanted to make myself ready for him. So much to prepare; so much to make good enough.
I’ve prepared our home for him. Corralled all traces of my two cats so that they don’t bother his allergies. Stocked my kitchen with his favorite foods. Made my bed into our bed once more, with manly coverings and firm and comfortable good things so when he folds me up into the positions that please him he’ll feel at home. Cleaned my patio so that it is ready for when he decides to fuck me out there, forcing me to hold my screams in for fear of neighbors hearing me serve him.
I’ve prepared the outfit I plan to wear to greet him when he arrives after such a long flight. It seems only appropriate that I meet him at the airport dressed in such a way as to show I know my place immediately, and though I don’t want to give away the surprise, I am confident he will appreciate my… creativity. I also plan to clean out the car so that it’s ready should he not want to wait until we get home to show his approval. Or his disapproval. Whatever amuses him.
Finally, how do I prepare myself for him? I’ve cut my hair and painted my nails and will wax my cunt smooth right before he arrives. I’ve stayed fit so that I can satisfy his every demand of me for as long as he would want it. But as the final week rolls along I wonder if I should do more. Should I go back to stretching out my ass so that it’s ready for any time he could want to fuck me there? Should I be fucking my cunt with my dildo regularly so it’s ready for constant use? What should I be doing to be very sure he never regrets his long trip to take his ownership once again?
If any of you, my all too faithful readers, have any suggestions for what I should do to prepare, or for things Master might want to do to or with me when he’s here, we’d love to hear them. We truly would.
Would that I had some excellent reason to give you for all this time being too quiet. An unpleasant illness or a family issue or losing the feeling in all of my fingers for close to a month. Sadly the closest thing to a reason I can state is that life has been just too busy. Too busy because Master and I have had lots in our lives of late and the lack of time for real play has lead to a lack of serious inspiration on my part. What’s more, in the next many days there will only be less time, not more, so inspiration will be even more difficult to find.
No inspiration, but Master was very clear that I was to return to my duties here, and so I found myself at a loss. I needed to find something to share with you all, but I was mostly aware of how much I need to do now and for the next week+. Preparation to make everything wonderful. Ideal. Utterly and Completely Perfect, and this needs to happen by Thursday June 3rd, because that is the day my Master returns.
Those of you who share my subby side understand the level of pressure when getting ready for your Master’s arrival, especially those of us who live so far from our owners and only get to be with them occasionally. You understand why it was that the spectre of all I want to get done loomed so large in my vision that I couldn’t see anything else around it. I could only see all that I wanted to be ready for him. How much I wanted to make myself ready for him. So much to prepare; so much to make good enough.
I’ve prepared our home for him. Corralled all traces of my two cats so that they don’t bother his allergies. Stocked my kitchen with his favorite foods. Made my bed into our bed once more, with manly coverings and firm and comfortable good things so when he folds me up into the positions that please him he’ll feel at home. Cleaned my patio so that it is ready for when he decides to fuck me out there, forcing me to hold my screams in for fear of neighbors hearing me serve him.
I’ve prepared the outfit I plan to wear to greet him when he arrives after such a long flight. It seems only appropriate that I meet him at the airport dressed in such a way as to show I know my place immediately, and though I don’t want to give away the surprise, I am confident he will appreciate my… creativity. I also plan to clean out the car so that it’s ready should he not want to wait until we get home to show his approval. Or his disapproval. Whatever amuses him.
Finally, how do I prepare myself for him? I’ve cut my hair and painted my nails and will wax my cunt smooth right before he arrives. I’ve stayed fit so that I can satisfy his every demand of me for as long as he would want it. But as the final week rolls along I wonder if I should do more. Should I go back to stretching out my ass so that it’s ready for any time he could want to fuck me there? Should I be fucking my cunt with my dildo regularly so it’s ready for constant use? What should I be doing to be very sure he never regrets his long trip to take his ownership once again?
If any of you, my all too faithful readers, have any suggestions for what I should do to prepare, or for things Master might want to do to or with me when he’s here, we’d love to hear them. We truly would.
Saturday, 23 January 2010
Silencing Butterflies
The silence of my words, here in this blog, was due to devoting all my time and energy to my Master. I know that those of you who read this blog do not need me to explain this priority. It’s where we live.
I honestly expected there would be many more stories to tell you here from his trip. Unfortunately I didn’t count on both Master and I coming down ill during his trip. While it did nothing to dampen our enthusiasm for being together, and though we weathered the storms of germs so well in our relationship, we didn’t play much at all from that point on. Now Master is back in his home and we’re reminding ourselves how this works with a continent and an ocean sitting between us. We work – we work surprisingly well. But the adjustment always takes time to make.
And this is true both coming and going.
Master had been here only about an hour. I was doing my duty, unpacking his suit case and getting him settled. I was so eager to have him here I couldn’t keep my hands from reaching out and touching him constantly – still I had butterflies in my stomach. I was nervous and I was finally smart enough to share this with him. “I have to admit I’m nervous.” I confessed.
“Why?” he smiled as he answered, already setting me more at ease.
“I’m nervous about the sex.” I blushed through my reply. “I have had so little sex in the last few years I’m constantly worried that I can’t please you. That I’m not as experienced in that place as I should be.” The embarrassment burned over my face as I focused my energy very intently on the socks I was sorting. I heard him chuckle over my shoulder.
“You’re just as experienced as I want you to be.” He reassured. This helped, but the butterflies refused to shut up. We left this conversation here and I finished my task. And time passed.
Later that night I walked back into the bedroom and the world stopped. Master had used his magic word to change me from partner to plaything. I have no way of knowing what happens when he blinks me out, or how long I’m gone. But that night when I came back… things were very different.
I found myself naked and on my hands and knees. My face rested on my bedroom floor, my shoulders being shoved hard into the carpet as my Master’s amazing cock filled my cunt over and over and over. A scream ripped from my mouth in a heartbeat as I was reminded of the tremendous size and impact of Master’s cock, but it blurred into a gasp and a moan as my mind regained some level of control. I could tell, from how easily he slid into me, and how soaked my cunt was, that he’d been fucking me as a mindless doll for a while. This idea sent another rush shuddering through me.
Again and again I gasped and screamed as he filled me. Somewhere along the way I began to beg him to fuck me, and to thank him for each new thrust. My own joy dripped down my thighs, and I pushed back against his cock all I could, making sure my legs stayed firm against his force. I felt owned and used and fucked and I loved every second of it, and as I came and came again I felt him folding over my back, laughing in my ear.
As I lie on the floor, feeling so stretched and leaving a puddle on the carpet, Master smiled down at me. “I thought we should get that fear out of the way sooner rather than later.” He grinned. Sure enough, the butterflies had flown away. Now I only craved for my Master to fuck me more. The best beginning of an amazing visit.
I honestly expected there would be many more stories to tell you here from his trip. Unfortunately I didn’t count on both Master and I coming down ill during his trip. While it did nothing to dampen our enthusiasm for being together, and though we weathered the storms of germs so well in our relationship, we didn’t play much at all from that point on. Now Master is back in his home and we’re reminding ourselves how this works with a continent and an ocean sitting between us. We work – we work surprisingly well. But the adjustment always takes time to make.
And this is true both coming and going.
Master had been here only about an hour. I was doing my duty, unpacking his suit case and getting him settled. I was so eager to have him here I couldn’t keep my hands from reaching out and touching him constantly – still I had butterflies in my stomach. I was nervous and I was finally smart enough to share this with him. “I have to admit I’m nervous.” I confessed.
“Why?” he smiled as he answered, already setting me more at ease.
“I’m nervous about the sex.” I blushed through my reply. “I have had so little sex in the last few years I’m constantly worried that I can’t please you. That I’m not as experienced in that place as I should be.” The embarrassment burned over my face as I focused my energy very intently on the socks I was sorting. I heard him chuckle over my shoulder.
“You’re just as experienced as I want you to be.” He reassured. This helped, but the butterflies refused to shut up. We left this conversation here and I finished my task. And time passed.
Later that night I walked back into the bedroom and the world stopped. Master had used his magic word to change me from partner to plaything. I have no way of knowing what happens when he blinks me out, or how long I’m gone. But that night when I came back… things were very different.
I found myself naked and on my hands and knees. My face rested on my bedroom floor, my shoulders being shoved hard into the carpet as my Master’s amazing cock filled my cunt over and over and over. A scream ripped from my mouth in a heartbeat as I was reminded of the tremendous size and impact of Master’s cock, but it blurred into a gasp and a moan as my mind regained some level of control. I could tell, from how easily he slid into me, and how soaked my cunt was, that he’d been fucking me as a mindless doll for a while. This idea sent another rush shuddering through me.
Again and again I gasped and screamed as he filled me. Somewhere along the way I began to beg him to fuck me, and to thank him for each new thrust. My own joy dripped down my thighs, and I pushed back against his cock all I could, making sure my legs stayed firm against his force. I felt owned and used and fucked and I loved every second of it, and as I came and came again I felt him folding over my back, laughing in my ear.
As I lie on the floor, feeling so stretched and leaving a puddle on the carpet, Master smiled down at me. “I thought we should get that fear out of the way sooner rather than later.” He grinned. Sure enough, the butterflies had flown away. Now I only craved for my Master to fuck me more. The best beginning of an amazing visit.
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