Thursday, 30 December 2010


If you follow me on Twitter, you will know that I am now in England for the holidays. As nearly every year since I left the parental home, I took a week off this time again to come over to my parent’s over Xmas and the New Year. Until last year, last Season included, I was just the “lost girl” (in my folks mind) coming back in our southern England family house, reviving with the kin our Christmas gatherings of the old days.  This was happy times, not always easy, as you may know if you had a read of my early blog entries, but all in all I liked it.

This time it is quite different and oddly same. Last year at that time I was further than dating with Master, we were already having a hot relationship and from my standpoint He was my boyfriend or a tad more. I was not aware that He had sharply spotted my tendency to submission and had the right feeling of my future aptitude and talents as His slave. My training started progressively but later, in February/March. And so, this very year, for the first time, I am not the routine naughty girl my family used to have with them. My look is about the same, if my dressing is a bit sluttier, and I am still the despair of my parents… But my brother and sister and in-law have noticed a change. I was known to be the easy girl, toying with men for a while, and then going onto the next one. Now, I am not anymore chatting about friends with benefits, and I am not at ease to describe the man I am living with or what I do with Him – for the good reasons you know – and I even find difficult to pronounce His given name while I keep fighting not to say ‘Master’… In a nutshell, trying not to “come out”.

A bit of background to help your understanding. I’m now 35, I was born in England in a southern city. I graduated an A level but did not go to the university. I was young (15) when I became sexually active, and it changed my life. I became soon sort of an addict. Not my parent’s style! I know I’m pretty and sexy, not a model but attractive and very early all sort of guys were around me. In turn I was attracted so much by males (not women at that time) that I left home early to move away from my puritan prissy background and my provincial city atmosphere. Not my sister and brother are puritan and prissy and provincial, but mom and dad of course. I found easily a job as secretary in London and took there a studio apartment. As I wrote in this blog, my first position at 19 was in fact “secretary with benefits,” which was the very ordinary way I found to bypass the other candidates while they were far more skilled. You may find that immoral and unethical, but at that time though shy I was already an “easy” girl, and nothing would have stopped me to gain my freedom. My boss was an old married man and there was no “night duty,” so it was bearable. You see, I was far from being a sub at that time, but already easy and a little whorish…

I was taking my extra ‘duty’ with the boss as a good deal in exchange of a job where I could gain experience for the next one and a good pay. I also remember the shy girl I was took some secret pleasure in being humiliated in private. How to explain? I was mentally in pain when sexually abused by that old swine, and at the same time, not always but frequently, I was surprisingly enjoying that role. I was certainly predisposed to become the owned slut of a Master.

I stayed a year and a half in this first job then changed, finding new ones less contingent on sex. In the following years I had a wonderful time out of work, a vast stable of studs, lots of guys often surprised to discover who that quiet girl was really in the bedroom or elsewhere… and they were passing the word around. Many men came in and out of my life, so to speak, and I hardly had a steady relationship. Sadly, few of the guys I messed with really loved me. They only liked me to be easy… On the other hand I was not interested in the ones prepared to love me and to keep me for long. I must add that at that time I had no idea of what dominance and submission really was if I have always been very docile and obedient with men, the more in a bed or in any situation where sex take place. I loved to give pleasure, and I still do!

Men have this need to seek out new women. I came however across men that I believe would have been faithful to me, but for some reason those men weren’t attractive to me. They were too vanilla, too boring, not dark enough. That’s how I enjoyed a very free sexual life and was well looked after before I met Master and fell really in love for the first time in my life since the ordinary youthful romances of the average girl.

In December last year, a branch of the company I was working for was wanting a temporary (good looking) hostess/secretary for its French office in the Paris area (not in Paris, my friends, don’t ask me “How is Paris?” I am seldom if ever in the French capital!). I was to be based in France, no need to speak French as our contacts are chiefly UK or other English-speaking foreigners, and my job was supposed to resume in the UK afterwards, so I jumped on this opportunity. This is how I met Master, His business was linked to our developments in France, and the handsome middle-aged man I met in the office invited me to lunch, then to weekend with Him and friends, and my new life got started. I wrote about that.

Master looks much younger but is in fact 56. Could call Him Daddy, lol (Apologize, Master, I know I know, we will discuss that at my booty’s expense…). When I met Him, He certainly judged at once that this girl, always showing quiet obedience, would highly repay His efforts if He cared to train her properly. In His special way, He fell in love with me at the same time He seduced me.

He had progressively His way with me in a delightful mix of pleasure, pain, discipline and hard fucking. From scratch He was my Master and I was his property but we have entered gradually into a deeper relationship, of our own free will. He is capable of filling me with so much happiness and so much pain at the same time it cannot be explained, but I know you can understand so well. Master does know me very well and is an expert on how to handle me. We have an intense mental connection. He knows exactly how I need to be treated and when. He sometimes says smirking that He took a small but talented caterpillar and turned it into a beautifully behaved butterfly! I’m so flattered when He says that!

Master authorized me without difficulties to spend the week with my family provided of course I would stick to rules and also phone Him frequently. The first difficulty I met was my attire. As you know skirts, not really mini because of stockings but the shortest possible, are mandatory as well as high heels and vintage style stockings. Master is always happy to see the top welts of my stockings bordering the bottom edge of my skirt. He really enjoys when my dress rides up my thighs and to watch my embarrassment, and when I sit I am not allowed to cross my legs. On the contrary, I must keep slightly open so whoever is in front of me can peek up to my panties if I wear undies or testify I’m a girl if not. Trying to remain decent is a hopeless battle, the more if you know He buys Himself my undies, and all my panties are the next size down and transparent.

My mother has always a lot to say about my looks, but that time she was endless about my skimpy clothing and tawdry makeup. “Not only you look like a prostitute, but you know girls should consider the weather conditions and dress accordingly,” she said drily. “Where did you find that shirt which hardly hide your breasts? Why is your skirt so short? Do you really need to wear stockings with that skirt?” and later in the sitting room “Please do close your legs for Heaven’s sake, your panties are on display. Well-educated girls cross their legs, but I see you can’t because your suspenders will point out…” “If you go outside dressed so scantily it makes the risk of hypothermia greater.” Bla bla. “It is completely mad” I heard my father say.

England is all about rules and breaking them, I told mum. One large breach was to dress as a slut in our narrow provincial community, and I thought I was looking gorgeous. Men looks were proving it. A good dress can make you feel as festive as two stiff drinks. A good dress does part of the hard work for you. In my heart of hearts, I hope a great dress can declare that whatever may have gone wrong in my life, none of it has ever been my fault. My favourite dresses are ones that make me feel appealing, deadly attractive. “You look so sexy hot,” my sister cooed. ”Me?” I said. “Are you sure?”

My mother recently suggested, fluttering her hands in the vicinity of her ears, that I get just a very little trim. I feel great about my hair. I have long hair. I’m talking about long enough to brush gently on my shoulder when I tilt my head. I’m not talking about being a couple of weeks late to the hairdresser. I’m talking long. Long enough for a ponytail with swing to it. Long enough to sit against when I’m in a chair. Long enough to have to lift it up out of the sweater I’m pulling over my head. Long enough to braid. But long hair is high maintenance. Yes, I’ll admit that it is a look that requires tender loving care. It is impossible to body surf without getting seaweed tangled up in it. It is impossible to get it completely dry when one is in a rush to get to an appointment. It is impossible to forget one’s hairbrush when one travels. It is impossible to garden or weave or cook without one’s hair getting in the way. But I like it.

My mother’s favourite expression to me is “Make an Effort.” What she doesn’t understand, of course, is that just because things don’t turn out the way she thinks they should doesn’t mean an effort wasn’t made. It is incredible how parents and children never let go of old habits of relating. My mother still makes me feel like a 15-year-old. However, that no longer feels like a bad thing, if you see what I mean.

Apart from all that, I am having wonderful times with my sister and my sister in law. We have endless talks about what might have been but didn't happen in 2010, or wonderful silly giggles sessions, real schoolgirls, when the parents and the boys are not there, about girlie subject matters, dresses, or sex, for instance wondering whether penis girth was mattering more than length (I explained how Master stretches my walls past their limits and sister in law stated our brother was hung like a horse, what we were aware of…), or Sara (my sister) asking me “Alex, do you think it's weird, but I really really enjoy going down on a guy…”

In terms of cocks, I have had many, and I must say dick size doesn't matter as much as how I am getting it. Some guys with thick long ones have left me counting cracks on the ceiling, some have made my ovaries pop out of my eyes... Some smaller guys have done other stimulating sexually gratifying things that I actually came a million times over, and others not so much. For me I don't care what size a guy is as long as he pulls my hair, licks my pussy like it is his last, and fucks me like a whore, spanks my ass like a naughty little girl, lets me squirt my juice in his mouth, and leaves his dickprint in my pussy for at least 3 days after.

Let’s stop dreaming. My stomach is slowly adjusting to the excesses of the season, a diet is in the cards and Master will punish me for what I have put on… While writing, music of my cell phone interrupted my thoughts. Master is back.

He is the devil. He’s giving me a task that will not be easy to perform. He knows it of course, and that is the reason why He’s giving it. I must here, in this city before I leave, give a head to a man I know, not a stranger, somebody who knows who I am, and without allowing him to fuck any of my other holes. Only a few days left to brush up the strategy and do what I am ordered to. I note it will be the first time I will be whoring away without Master watching. I’ll write about it when it’s over but first I must find the way without creating a big scandal. My sister would understand, I’m sure, but I’m not that confident with my brother not to speak of my parents.

I’ll be soon back to tell you how it went. Be good. With my love.


Friday, 24 December 2010

Training and submission

“Hey Alexia, great to see you blogging again”  “Welcome back!” … So sweet of you! Thanks to mollysdailykiss and to K & J for their kind and interesting comments on my last entry. Do read what they wrote.

Now back to my confession pad. Nice to look, pleasant to fuck: that’s how Master wants my body to be. My face is my face, and up there it’s less a question of exercise than proper make up, creams, skincare, treatments, hair doing etc. It takes up a hell of my time and of my money (or Master’s), but I’ll write about that later on as I don’t think guys will find it very interesting (if you girls are interested and wish to know my tips, let me know…). How to dress is also another story. I have rules and a dress protocol, but I’ll tell you about another day. No, it’s about my body. I must keep everything in good order.

Tasks given by Master: exercise for 20/30 minutes every morning, and sometimes in the evening, in front of Him and following His orders, with nothing else except stockings and garter belt (always! That’s the little add-on He wants for His pleasure). To start with, my body is His property, and He warns me quite seriously that He doesn’t care so much about what I do with what I own (if I own something… That remains to be discussed) but He does care, significantly, about what He owns. And my body is His, so I must take a great care of it. Not of me, my friends, of it.

Weight is carefully watched, 110 is the limit over which diet is mandatory. Then, exercise, forms of exercise that increases flexibility, muscle definition, endurance, and mental clarity. It is gym, but also slave training. For that Master mixes the physical movements, for example Marines-style push-ups (the body must me straight when up, punishment being my ass whipped with His much talked-about horse crop), or on my back with my legs lifted and butt in the air, or – I hate it! – I stand with my back against a wall, legs together, I move my feet about 14 to 18 inches away from the wall then slide my back down the wall as if I was sitting down in an invisible chair. My thighs must be parallel to the floor, my knees bent at a 90-degree angle. If not perfect, the crop is on my boobs. Then Master places a towel between my knees, I must squeeze and hold it for as long as He feels like it. At the beginning, my legs started to shake after 30 seconds, now I can hold it much longer. If I am not doing my exercises properly in His opinion, weighted nipple clamps are added to the crop to help me to behave.

All these exercises together with whipping are made to develop my body and my flexibility, and at the same time increase my endurance and my submission. Through discipline and punishment, I learn to behave and do what I am told without debate, and this daily task is an important bit of my training. Indeed it is important for me to be of a healthy and sound mind and body, free as possible of any personal limitations, when pleasing my Master. I also train during these sessions to take to the best of my abilities all the positions my Master taught me so to be prepared to take such positions when required and to display myself in a manner through them that He, and others who may be present, will find most pleasing.

After the limbering up exercises, slave style, the holes training comes. “Now, the cockports,” Master says. In fact my asshole is the main target. My mouth is now perfectly trained to suck any cock any way, and bj training is preferably done during specific sessions, my hands tied in my back, the exercise being more on sucking perfectly without hands, moving wholly chest and shoulders. As for my cunt, the size of my vagina is up to par (so Master says), that is deep and not too tight but enough to squeeze nicely a big cock breaking in. Master cock is girthy, he stretches my walls to the limit but He loves it and on my side I crave for it. So the exercise there is more on how to open my legs wider, move nicely and ‘whorishly’ belly and hips, etc. I believe (or hope) every woman knows very early in her life how to do it, at least it is my experience, so my training is more about improving my sluttish behaviour and what whorish manners can increase the sexual excitement of Master (or another guy) doing me.

No, my hole craving to be trained and which always needs it is my ass.

Master has provided me all sorts of plugs to give me pleasure and prepare my hole for His and other’s use. They must be inserted deeply into my ass any time Master directs it, and that composes the main hole training at the end of my exercise session. It’s ass training, but it is also a sluttish game to please Master.

Master gazing at me, crop in hand, I suck the buttplug to get it very wet, then snatch it out of my mouth and run the end over my clit and slowly drag it over my pussy to separate my lips, next I slide it into my pussy and get it nice and lubed, then slowly drag it out of my pussy and rest it against my bum hole. Slowly I feel the pressure rise as I slide it in. I feel the head go past the first ring then the second and then finally plop snugly into place.

I gently turn it round a few time and half pull it out and slide it back in several times. Next I reach back into the bag and get the next buttplug out. This one is about 4.5” long and 2” at its widest and jet-black. I start by rubbing it over my nipples, rest it between my breast so I can feel the size and next I tease and lick it with the end of my tongue. Master watches me squirming with the existing butt plug sticking out of my ass. When I've had enough I take it in my mouth where I suck and lick it like a starving child. It is dripping with my spit and I rub it over my clit and pussy again to get it even more dripping. Next I grab the first plug and pull it out in one pull. It plops out and Master sees my butthole stay open for a few seconds before clamping shut.

The next plug is really going to stretch me. I place the end against my asshole and feel it open to the size of the last plug easily but then it stops and I have to push it in. I feel it stretch. After about 30 seconds I slide in another inch, and so on. Master watches carefully my anus hugging the plug. His cock is hard, I can see it through His pants. I also see in the mirror how much has still got to get through my tight ass before it will shrink round the thinner bit. The pain is exquisite. I push slowly but constantly and finally when the resistance makes me think it won't go in, it plops in and my ass sucks up the thin bit until it is clamped in. Master is pleased to see my hole stretched round the plug with the outer ring slightly puckered up around. Sometimes, when He feels like it, Master does the job Himself.

I've been playing anally for a while now with my toys, and I have also smaller good plugs that I can wear all day and know its there without being too uncomfortable. I am enjoying wearing it very much, just hate the mess!

The main reward of my ass training is I am now ready at all time for any unsolicited anal fuck.


Monday, 20 December 2010

I'm back...

First and foremost (…yes, Sir, I know I’m a bad girl, I must confess my laziness, I’m doing it now) I must apologize publicly and humbly request my readers to forgive me. I have not written for awhile. Admittedly I have been very busy in November and early December, they were circuitous issues about my job (this is not fixed yet…), and serving Master was more than ever a full time occupation on top of it. I’m not complaining, far from it, Master is the blessing of my life, He made me discover D/s and realize I was born to serve, but I found no time lately to be up to my task of exposing my slutty life to everyone.

Part of the dynamic between Master and me is how He exploits my shyness. He made me discover the intense pleasures of humiliation, and one of my many tasks is to expose myself and to document my life as his depraved, submissive whore. I am his property, I don't decide, but luckily he conceded this time that aside of some laziness from my side He could accept a fair share of the responsibility for my silence. Thank you for that, Sir.

Master knows so well He is not always helping and giving me time to write. Is it a game? Today for instance, when I started to write this, He came and stand in front of the sofa I was sitting on and asked abruptly “Do you want to cum for me Slut?” “Yes Sir, I always do.” “So why are you sitting there with your legs so tightly closed then? Come now, slut, open them for me.” I put my laptop on the sofa, pulled my skirt up and parted my legs apart as far as possible to make Him see my nude body submitting for Him. I had my usual tiny see-through panties on but didn’t move to take the filmy material off, as I know He likes me in the circumstances to wet my undies and keep them on soaked. Actually I was wet (Master always makes me moist instantly), my panties were showing it up…

“Such a good slut. Now rub your pussy for me.” His words excited me even more if it was possible and my fingers trailed down under my panties and across my waxed girly bits, and delved between my delicate folds into my opening. It was already dripping wetness and I drew the sticky moisture back up over my pussy and coated my throbbing clit with it.

“Good slut,” He growled at me “Now make yourself cum for me.” I pushed down harder on my clit and rolled it around and around with my finger, the sensations within my pelvis already building, but I was empty and my pussy was throbbing to be filled… “Please Sir may I take my panties off, please touch me!” Master frowned and slapped my face “I told you to cum and nothing else. Since when do sluts have a say? Don’t make me say it again!” As He shifted and moved between my thighs I closed my eyes briefly, His gaze felt hot on me and the level of His scrutiny was almost unbearable. I worked my cunt faster and my finger pushed down firmly onto my now fully engorged clit but that final fulfilment still seemed to elude me, my mind was filled with thoughts of His touch and my body was holding back.

Suddenly I felt His breath on my thigh and heard Him breathe in deeply through his nose. “Aahhhh the scent of you pleases me, now cum for me.” My eyes snapped open when I heard these words and I while looking down, seeing his face so close to me, I had instantly a real orgasm.

While I was sort of trying to gather my wits, He went out of the room saying, “Well done slut, now get on with your blog.” I knew I had to keep my ruined panties on, and I simply took my laptop without even trying to get my skirt right in place in case He would come back. What did I want to write? Yes, about submission. Not having a choice to do what you want, as well as what you do not want to do: we’re there, He really owns me.

You must know that Master doesn’t check my posts in advance, He simply reads them when they are published, as He knows that’s how I feel free to write my true reflections. In addition he can get a better perception of my true self that way. We often talk about my blogposts. That’s good to progress.

Now, how far would I go to please Him? Pretty far, I gave enough evidence of it. For sure I want some pleasure, but I am more than willing to do things that I would not consider pleasurable if it brought pleasure to my Dom. I think that I have generously proved my ability to buck up and do what I am told to, as you can see in my previous posts. In addition, I certainly let it go well beyond good for my immediate well being in a scene. I can get to the point where I really don't care, where I just want to feel the intense experience and the idea of stopping simply no longer exists.

It always surprises me to see how Master understands me so perfectly well. He sees inside me, my darkest fears, my darkest desires and somehow blends the two. To highlight an important step forward in my life, He knew before I did that I would find such an intense pleasure to be forced, degraded and publicly humiliated. In my previous life, I used to fantasize about being raped, or forced in a gangbang, or coerced into prostitution. The disturbing idea is my recent finding that I am definitely enjoying sex in those sorts of situations, when I am forced and ill-treated. Vanilla fuck is not for me anymore. Mentally, I find a little disturbing to note I am in fact a whore, but I must admit I am.

If you wonder why I accept to be shared and to pleasure men (or women sometimes) when Master orders me to, it means you are not a sub or, if you are, that you have not yet experienced the awesome payoff, the very intense rush, of being treated as a filthy slut, a total cum dumpster as my users happen to call me. Together with my own pleasure of being the slut every man wants to fuck, and of being taken thoughtlessly, I also realized that the guys – at least the ones who used me – were stimulated because they were not required to hold back and their climax was higher as they were not making love but merely ‘servicing’ me.

As you know from my previous posts, I was full of fear and it was not easy at the early times. It gets easier as you accept it and it becomes the norm, easier every day. All I can say to me is: take it day by day, and try and enjoy each little thing. Take pleasures when and where you can, keep your submissive feelings in your mind – and, as hard as it may be sometimes, try to accept your role mentally, constantly... remind yourself.

Master will reinforce it constantly, I know, through a variety of actions that will help my progress as a sex slave.

Now that I'm back to my task of telling you all, I will write more about these actions. Very soon.



Sunday, 31 October 2010

A Good Girl

When Master takes me out to be the entertainment of His friends, and gets intense pleasure in watching His whore being used at random, and also - to tell the truth - to my own pleasure of being humiliated and degraded, the celebration starts on the way to the party as He also enjoys humiliating me publicly outdoors. Dressed up as a true prostitute and wearing excessive makeup I draw the attention and often remarks of many passer-by. From that starting point, Master loves to push the envelope and stretch my limits.

Last weekend I was promised to three men, or more precisely traded as I learnt incidentally later on. We had to drive to their place as our home is situated in a far-off suburb. To please Master, my outfit was - as usual - making my body hard to ignore. I was excited too because I enjoy decorating myself. That evening I had squeezed my shapely (but sizeable!) bottom into a white transparent tight mini dress, leaving my body flaunted: “Plenty of cleavage in the front and round on the bottom”. That dress was short enough to display appropriately my legs in stockings and high heels, well in fact purposely a tad too short as Master wanted it because when seated one could see the top of my tan stockings and the suspender clips which I hate because it is too much. Master loves that and I admit I am in turn pleased to expose my sexy legs and thighs wearing revealing attire if I would prefer to hide the ‘technical’ part of the stockings. It would be more classy but certainly less slutty and I know I have no choice as I must be a walking cock teaser. I am all the same proud of my legs, as some of you already know… The distinctive feature of the day was the towering high heels Master offered me last week: Louboutin Slingback Peep Toe Pump, a gem. The pleasure of having them on helped me to take that I was wearing nothing under my dress but my gorgeous vintage peach satin deep suspender belt (Harlow, for the connoisseur) as Master had decided I would go without panties. Higher, my black hair was slicked back so that nothing was hiding my nipples pointing out as I was wearing a sheer half bra letting my globes clearly visible through the revealing light fabric of the dress. I knew I was looking smoking hot.

I sat in the car, my dress lifted to the waist, arranged so that my bare ass was touching the seat. That rule is clear, I must always sit that way when I am in “service mode”, will it be on a chair, a sofa or a car seat. As a result, my thighs, stocking tops and suspenders were on full sight up to the crotch and my pussy was not far from sight. I was also advised to keep my legs apart so to leave little doubt on the kind of floozy I was. Each stop at traffic lights or else was bringing men looking with lust at me through the window or the windscreen. I was keeping my eyes cast down to escape the looks while I was only getting what could be expected.

I also knew that at one point “it” would come and “it” did, as most often: opening the electric passenger window, Master ordered me to masturbate unashamedly. Needless to say the few last stops were hot. Even if public humiliation turns me on, fingering openly my cunt in the car is really the limit and I was longing for that trip to finish. I had a peek at Master, He was looking happy. As my purpose is to satisfy Him it convinced me that I was happy as well.

What is “service mode”, you may wonder? Simple. As I wrote in earlier entries, I am in love with a Man who became my Master by uncovering my deepest longings to the height of submission. I serve, obey and please Him as He desires, I am His property. As for all the males I happened to have belonged to, but much more in His case, He has a ceaseless appetite for sex. In our ordinary lifestyle, I follow the basic rules and try my best to be His slutty inventive bitch, perhaps no more all in all than the ordinary perverted whore many girls happen to be under their chic cover-up. At times, when Master feels like it or when He shares me to be the fuck toy of His friends for His own greatest pleasure, He orders me to shift to the “service mode” which He may also call the “slave mode”. To understand how I must behave in “service mode” was the purpose of many “training sessions”, but I had, He said, an innate grasp and got it right in a few months without too many punishments. In that mode, I must be totally submissive, 100 percent under His direction and control, silent (a “slave” never speaks unless spoken to), and I must observe a number of strict rules, called “protocols”, not usually used in our ordinary lifestyle, which have been taught to me during my assiduous and diligent training.

Coming back to our trip, He dropped me in the street where the building we were making for was situated and told me to wait for Him standing at a corner while He was parking. As expected, thanks to being dressed up (or undressed?) as a prostitute, men at large were sure to speak to a streetwalker and some asked for the price of my service. Others honked and whistled when driving by as it was not usual to meet escorts in that area. In reality they were not that wrong in taking me for a prostie, I was thinking, as Master was again brokering the sexual favours of His slut and taking pleasure in arranging for me to service whoever will be there. He was my pimp and I was in turn His wanton obedient sextoy.

I know one day will come He will leave me in the street and make me act as a real prostitute, ordering me to accept and be fucked by any passerby who wants and pays for it, provided He finds the way to watch me servicing the client (happily He doesn’t appear to have the solution yet). That evening was not the time, we had better to do as three cocks were waiting upstairs for my holes.

The lift took us to the upper floor, we entered the penthouse and found them waiting for us in the sitting room, glass in hands. In fact there were three persons I had not met before, but only two penis, as the third person was a woman. A real woman, not a girl, I mean not a cunt like me who is used solely for recreational sex. I was scared at first sight when I saw how she looked down at me. Master ordered me to “stay”, took a drink and sat with them making small talk. I waited obediently in front of them, standing as I have been taught, legs apart, breasts pushed out, hands locked in my back, head up and eyes down. And silent.

After a time Master turned to me and asked: “Are you ready, slut?” I responded “Your slut is always ready and would be happy to satisfy You any way You wish, Sir.” One of the guys told Master “We’ll see if your slave is correctly trained and if we agree her in our community.” Turning to me, he added: “Insubordinate behaviour will not be tolerated.” I had no intention to rebelling…

“Turn around and bend over, slut”, He ordered. I did, knowing the dress would expose my ass and pussy to all. I thought briefly that at this stage, before touching me, they will not notice some wetness from the control taken over me. The woman remained seated as well as Master, and the two men walked at me. I was in the middle of the sitting room turning my back and did not see them coming. They ordered me to strip off, keeping only my shoes and stockings on, then to bent over again, when they started a throughout and quite painful inspection, grabbing and slapping my asscheeks, fingering my pussy and my asshole (oh! Why nobody asked them to cut their nails short?), parting my labia and pulling the lips, stretching my vagina, ill-treating my so sensitive clit, grabbing hold of my boobs and pinching my nipples hard. They were taking possession of my body, but from the way they were voicing their pleasure I knew they were happy to make it painful.

After endless minutes, I was ordered to go by the sofa where the woman was sitting. There was some equipment on the coffee table that I did not notice earlier. One of the guys took leather wristcuffs and attached my hands behind my back. The other one clamped my tits with metal pinchers. “Not very painful”, he said, “unless pulled…” and he attached a connecting chain with weights pulling down. “Ouch, Sir! That really hurts!” I said. I should have remained silent… “Wait, slut!” Again, I was told to bend and a large buttplug was inserted into my anus. I thought “Ouch” again, but remained silent… and bent over to have my ass spanked, as I heard: “For your remark, a brief punishment! Laura, to you!”

Laura, the woman, got up, stood there for some minutes watching before retrieving a flogger on the table, a whip with tightly braid falls. She walked around me and I felt suddenly the sting of the flogger against my ass. Several more strikes hit my ass harder each time. I was biting my lips and trying not to wriggle. She then walked around to be in front of me and started to flog my tits. As the first one came down on a nipple, I inhaled quickly as the lash hit and tried to move my hands but the handcuffs were closely adjusted. I thought “Please finish it over soon” but I knew I had to accept the punishment. The woman continued to lash out on my breasts, causing the clamps and weights to sway from side to side. They pulled and tugged lightly at first but the lashes were coming faster and harder the clamps and weights sway, twisting the nipples. My groans were getting louder, and my tits were starting to turn red from the beating. The woman stopped the lashing for a few moments and my breathing returned to normal, then it started right back up again on my ass and stopped for good after I counted twenty. I had tears in my eyes from the pain but I was moist and horny.

Laura returned to the sofa but before sitting she removed her panties and lifted her skirt to the waist. She was wearing elegant sheer mesh hold-up stockings, with flower motif lace-top and back seams. She spread her legs open and said “Come on, pet, kneel before me.” Her pussy was hairy, completely unshaven. One of the Doms released me from my handcuffs and my nipple clamps. While I kneeled, the two men started stripping and I saw briefly Master in His armchair, dressed up but fly open and masturbating very slowly. I was missing His impressive rod but had to do with these strangers. While I was licking and kissing my way up along Laura’s thighs to her pussy, tasting the wetness that was escaping as I was running closer, she placed her hands on my ass to hold me while I reached the pussy before me. My tongue found easily its way through the fur and parted the lips to taste the juices being held in. I slid the tongue along the slit in the middle, the one side then the other. Searching, I found a hard nub, the clit begging for attention, I circled it slowly, and I moved my head further so to bite the clit and hold while my tongue continued to tease it. I buried my face into the woman’s pussy, and I felt the juices running over my face, down my chin.

Times ago I had some sex experiences with girls, but it was the first time since Master owns me that I had to please a female. Not difficult, as I knew of course what to do and I could hear from her screams I was doing well. While I was quite busy with her vagina, one of the men came in my back, removed the butt plug from my ass and put his hard cock at my butthole. Laura, who still had her hands on my buttocks, spread the cheeks. The man teased my cunt and my butthole with the tip of his cock, and then slid the large and hard shaft slowly all the way into my ass. I gasped as it finished its entrance into my hole, I thought “He is going to fuck me hard, I did well in taking an enema this morning and make sure I am clean for Master’s friends, who like a dirty girl but not a shitty one.” As expected, the man grabbed my hips and started ramming into my asscunt as hard as he could and I suddenly heard “Hell yeah, take my cum up your slut whore ass” when Laura was screaming too. He was cumming in my ass just when the woman had an orgasm. They got me so wet, it was just dripping out of my pussy.

The other man could not wait anymore. He grabbed my hair, pulled me firmly and got me on my knees in front of him. I took his rod into my mouth like a piece of candy. While savouring the texture and flavour of his cock, I could feel the wetness spreading between my legs. Yes after all I love when Master throw me at men to pleasure them. He reached down and took my nipples in between his fingers and started to roll them. I felt his cock was growing even more over the next several minutes as I sucked and licked it. Then I felt as if it was going to explode in my mouth and it did. I twirled my tongue around the tip, then started to swallow the cum in my mouth but not releasing the cock until it was completely finished. I swallowed the whole load, obediently, milking the awesome penis to the last drop, while I could feel the cum of the first man oozing out from my ass, leaving a small puddle underneath me.

Master rose and come to me saying “Since you did such a good job today I am going to let you have my cum inside of you.” My body shuddered and I nearly orgasmed before He touched me. I did not want gentle, I wanted rough, animalistic, primal fucking. Master pushed me into the seat of the sofa, at Laura’s side, slamming his body against mine, and slipped his cock deep into my cunt and before I had a chance to exhale, He was pumping hard and deep. I was immediately consumed with lust and the sensation of his shaft rubbing in and out of my already sensitive hole caused me to whimper, to moan, to beg for more. Each thrust was harder than the last and deeper. I told Him I wanted to come “May I, please, Sir”. He said “Yes you may cum” and while I whispered “Thank You Sir!” my gasping became sharper, my moaning higher pitched. Suddenly I screamed, and His erection swelled harder than ever. My orgasm peaked His own, and as promised He ejaculated in me. My cunt was all creamy, I was in Heaven, if he had said anything I would have spasmed once again.

Master’s cum must never go to waste, so while cleaning His cock with my mouth I squeezed every last drop. Then I got up, spread my legs open, put a hand on my pussy to collect His juice leaking out of my vagina, and swallowed respectfully.


Friday, 29 October 2010

Submissive women, testosterone and elections

When You are awake, Sir, I am Your obedient slut, Your submissive fuck toy, Your silent property. When You rest or sleep, or when I am alone and I have finished my tasks, I am an ordinary girl who loves reading girlish mags.

That one says, and I like the idea: “Explore your nightie side; go for tempting boudoir rather than tacky bra if you’re looking to pull off one of the season’s toughest look…” Forget about Madonna’s conical bras, Sienna’s Bridget-style pants and Lady Gaga’s lace bodysuits, summer scariest-sounding trend is not as frightening as it would appear. Think boudoir inspired instead: camisole tops, slip-style dresses, stockings with a hint of suspender – either in the shade of blush and nude, or toughened up in black and charcoal. The look is meant to be sexy.

“Look for the woman in the dress,” Coco Chanel once decreed, meaning that her customer, not her clothes, should draw the eye first. With the current vogue of blush and “flesh”-colored fashion, following this directive is at once easy. Easy when the palette is deployed in transparent fabrics, like that nude lace top that made it impossible not to look at the model… or at least at her instantly discernible nipples. I’ll certainly buy that when I find it, Master bound to like. Must buy a small bag too. Small bags are alluring. I’ve done the big bag thing filled with 15 pounds worth of “essentials” and suffered angry red welts on my shoulder from hauling around all that cargo, and I’m over it.

What’s the next article? How do I make my makeup look fresh all day... Perfect makeup begins with perfect skincare etc. Why do I read always the same stuff and keep finding it so interesting?

But Master wants I read His serious papers and mags alongside my usual feminine stuff. I obey. Browsing “The Economist” I read an interesting paper on women’s rights in South Africa, which made me reflect on the thin dissimilarity between slaves involved in the old school of M/s. (Slaves with no limits, total respect and who surrender to their Masters complete and absolute control, that’s me!) and the picture of some women in South Africa.

In the World Economic Forum’s “gender gap index” South Africa comes an impressive sixth out of 134 countries in the world but in the UN’s “gender-related development index” it is ranked a poor 129th out of 182. Such a wide discrepancy is not simply because the various bodies measure different things, but also because the picture of women in South Africa is so mixed.

In the “founding provisions” of South Africa’s 1996 constitution, “non-sexism” is given equal billing with “non-racialism”. To promote women’s rights in what had been a predominantly patriarchal society among whites as well as blacks, the ruling African National Congress has brought in a slew of laws over the past 16 years, legalising abortion, giving women equal power in marriage, cracking down on domestic violence, criminalising sexual harassment at work, banning all gender discrimination and providing women of any skin colour with the same degree of affirmative action in education, employment and politics as blacks, coloureds and Indians.

On paper South Africa has one of the world’s most impressive legal arsenals for protecting women’s rights. But the gap between principle and practice is often wide. In other areas, however, women’s progress has been slower. It is in the home, particularly in black ones, that attitudes have changed least. There men continue to rule the roost, sometimes imposing their authority with drug- or alcohol-fuelled brutality. In its latest world report, Human Rights Watch, a New York-based lobby, describes the level of physical and sexual violence against South African women as “shockingly high”. South Africa has one of the highest incidences of reported rape in the world. In a study by the World Health Organisation, fully 40% of South African women claimed that their first experience of sex was non-consensual.

The (black) founder of a new women’s-rights lobby, the Sonke Gender Justice Network, says his biggest challenge is to convince men that abusing women is culturally unacceptable. But, and there is where I wanted to come, women are sometimes complicit, too, the paper adds. Violence is often seen as a normal part of male-female relations. According to recent research by the Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation, a Johannesburg-based group, most black women believe a man has a right to have sex with his wife or partner whenever he wants. Another study showed that most black teenagers felt it is fine to force sex on a girl if you know her or if she accepts a drink from you.

Traditional customs die hard. President Jacob Zuma has at least 21 children by at least ten different women, four of whom he married; he is now engaged to another, who is pregnant. In certain rural areas women are still expected to walk a few paces behind their husbands. In KwaZulu-Natal thousands of bare-breasted maidens display their virginal beauty in a dance before the polygamous Zulu king, Goodwill Zwelithini. In villages in the eastern Cape teenage girls continue to be forced into marriages with older men who treat them as virtual slaves. Women who do not fit into the community are still sometimes burned as witches. Lesbians are gang-raped to “cure” them of their follies.

That is what I read.

Let’s continue with other news of the world, again from the same “Economist” copy.

When Barack Obama won the American presidency in 2008 his supporters cheered, cried, hugged—and in many cases logged on to their computers to look at pornography. And, lest Republicans crow about the decadence of their opponents, precisely the obverse happened when their man won in 2004.

Ha-ha. That, at least, is the conclusion of a study by Patrick Markey of Villanova University, in Pennsylvania, and his wife Charlotte, who works at Rutgers, in New Jersey. The Markeys were looking for confirmation of a phenomenon called the challenge hypothesis. This suggests that males involved in a competition will experience a rise in testosterone levels if they win, and a fall if they lose.

The challenge hypothesis was first advanced to explain the mating behaviour of monogamous birds. In these species, males’ testosterone levels increase in the spring, to promote aggression against potential rivals. When the time comes for the males to settle down and help tend their young, their testosterone falls, along with their aggressive tendencies. Something similar has since been found to apply to fish, lizards, ring-tailed lemurs, rhesus monkeys, chimpanzees—and humans. Previous research has found these hormonal ups and downs in male wrestlers, martial artists, tennis players, chess players and even people playing a coin-flip game. In evolutionary terms, it makes sense. If a losing male continues to be aggressive, the chances are he will be seriously injured (it is unlikely natural selection could have foreseen competitive coin-tossing). Turning down his testosterone level helps ward off that risk. Conversely, the winner can afford to get really dominant, as the threat of retaliation has receded.

For most species, determining that this actually happens requires a lot of boring fieldwork. But the Markeys realised that in the case of people they could cut the tedium by asking what was going on in those parts of the web that provide a lot more traffic than their users will ever admit to, on the assumption that men fired up by testosterone have a greater appetite for pornography than those who are not. To do this they first used a web service called WordTracker to identify the top ten search terms employed by people seeking pornography (“xvideos” was the politest among them). Then they asked a second service, Google Trends, to analyse how often those words were used in the week before and the week after an American election, broken down by state.

Their results, just published in “Evolution and Human Behavior”, were the same for all three of the elections they looked at—the 2004 and 2008 presidential contests, and the 2006 mid-terms (in which the Democrats made big gains in both houses of Congress). No matter which side won, searches for porn increased in states that had voted for the winners and decreased in those that had voted for the losers. The difference was not huge; it was a matter of one or two per cent. But it was consistent and statistically significant. If the polls are right, then, next Tuesday’s mid-term elections will see red faces in the red states for those furtive surfers who are caught in the act. In the blue states, meanwhile, a fit of the blues will mean the screens stay switched off.

Interesting. Could please my American followers tell me if they observe that? My Master is British, and frankly I don’t remember if He fucked me a special way after the recent pool in the UK.


Friday, 8 October 2010

Items for bdsm

My view of Master’s Shopping List. Bondage and pain coupled nicely hand in hand.

I’m sure He has everything in store, but I’ve not (yet?) experienced all.

First, I’ll list what I know for they have been used for my training or are so familiar to me as part of my everyday routine:

  • Collar, of course (I’ve been collared last March. To be accurate, it’s not 24/7 as I don’t wear it at work for instance neither outside in ‘normal’ weekday’s situations).
  • Butt plugs (different sizes and shapes), was difficult at the beginning particularly the largest ones but since I’ve grown to learn and I love them so much! Master did so well on my ass with His cock and His whole set of plugs that I enjoy the sensation of anal sex just as much or sometimes more than vaginal penetration. He is proud of this fact and often tells His friends, male or female, in front of me of course: “This is a slut who loves it up her ass! She's a total anal whore." I stand eyes down, happy to be His pride in public no matter how much it embarrasses me.
  • Buckle up leather wrist and ankle cuffs with chrome plated snap links to couple them together. Various types of spreader bars. Yummy stuff, leaving me helpless, open, vulnerable, humiliated, treated like an object and exposed for sex or punishment and more often both. Also, naked but heels stockings and garter belt, on my knees, I am in heaven when Master cuffs my wrist in my back and orders me to worship His cock. In clear that means He expects the serious and professional whorish bj His slave owes Him. When you cannot use your hands, your whole body must act and help sucking and not only your head. Master loves that!
  • Table for tying: when that one is used, I know pain will come before pleasure. But now after nine months of harsh training, I crave for both even if I still fear crops and canes.
  • Nipple clamps (various types, some spring loaded to shut tightly) and connecting chain, and various weights to clip to the chain or ring. Ouch! Why must Doms torture my poor tits and nipples? Master indulges in it, the more because I fear it, and all His kinky friends have obviously the same devious taste for breast torture.
  • Pussy clamps, chains and various weights. Not pleasant though humiliating and thereby exciting, sometimes part of the Masters’ fun including my Owner’s.
  • Gags. In a way I am happy to be gagged.
  • Leather whips, different sort of spanking paddles (one embossed with "slut" in reverse so it leaves an impression on my butt), riding crops, floggers, and, the worse, canes with a bamboo cane which delivers quite a sting. Routine. Please see “table for tying” above. I more particularly worship the crop He bought last summer in Oman, a beautiful souvenir for me!
Not used (yet!):
  • Blindfold, Black leather Y strap, 3 Way Hogtie Clip and all sorts of Leather Bondage Straps. I’ve never been blindfolded, and Master’s bondage kit is limited to what I wrote above (cuffs and occasionally spreadbars).
And, importantly, I have learnt to use the voice protocol to please Master: “Sir, if it pleases You, Your slave would be so happy to be spanked until her ass is bright red and marked. Sir, if it pleases You, will You bind Your slave so that she cannot move at all while You use the buggy whip on her ass and thighs and feet until she screams and cries so hard she can barely breathe.”

If you have any ideas to add, please post a comment, Master would be happy to see where it goes…


Wednesday, 29 September 2010

I am now addicted to being shared

As you know, Master wants me to document my life as His depraved, submissive whore. I am his property, I don't decide. In addition to exposing and humiliating me, He highly appreciates the way I confess to my blog what I would not always tell Him directly. I have explained in my last posting why He shares me, and how I fear it and feel so nervous and ashamed and humiliated and helpless and and and... when the time comes. I’ve never told Him but He knows it all, and forcing me while watching the fear in my eyes is a sweet pleasure for Him. What amaze me is that I’ve grown accustomed to it and I must admit I need it now. So many emotions flow through me when I am whoring but above all I am turned on against my will and I find overwhelming pleasure in being used as a public slut, a tramp, a sex slave, a receptacle for Master and the rest of the town to put their ejected semen in. Yes, Master called me once a “cum dumpster” and I’m afraid He is right, I am now addicted to being abused and ejaculated in by any stranger, or several ganging up on me. You may find it weird but it also strengthens my undeniable love for the man that owns me.

I have written about the other reason why Master uses me as a slave whore to be used freely by others: it arouses Him tremendously, and He needs frequently to be sexually stimulated that way. There is a third one, which I give tonight though I know it will certainly bring a painful punishment when He reads it: Master is, let’s say, a man, He can cum several times in a whole day but He cannot repeat it several times during one evening. Watching men using me and doing me in every hole is a kind of proxy, I suspect. The reason why He sometimes takes me after the others and fucks me hard when I am full of cum remains to be explained however.

Master doesn’t need to threaten me anymore with a punishment if the guests are not pleasured well, I know what my duty is and I am eager to perform and please. I am trained now, and I want Master to be proud of His property.

As the door to the outer hall opens, I go to my knees at once.

That evening, two men came in, one a very rigorous Dom who has used me several times and who has a very engaging attitude, the other... In one quick glimpse before I lowered my eyes in obedience I saw that he was very tall, very powerfully built, and very black. What was arousing was the air of command he brought with him, a man who is used to slaves and enjoys them.

He ordered me to rise and display myself for inspection. I stand immediately, feet spread to shoulder width, my hands locked behind my head, chin up, eyes down. Then he proceeded to run his hands all over my naked body, as though I were a promising filly he was thinking of buying...which I guess was just about right in a way. He stroked my thighs and ass, weighed each breast in his hand, parted my pussy lips and inserted a finger in me to judge the depth and tightness of my cunt.

He snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor, and I went to my knees in front of him. He unzipped his pants and let my eager fingers bring his cock out. It was magnificent, like a thick bar of very tasty chocolate. He was so tall that I had to stretch to reach my mouth to it, but he grabbed my hair and pulled me higher. I started licking his cock, flicking my tongue along its length, one arm around his legs to support myself. He stiffened under my tongue and lips, and I opened wide to take him all in. He put a hand around the back of my neck and pushed my head onto his huge log, filling my mouth, pressing my tongue down. I've been taught how to do this, and I didn't gag as he began to slide down my throat.

Moving his hips forward, he pushed my face closer to him at the same time, his balls right against my nose; he smelt clean and warm and very male, and I gave up all control to him as he fucked my face with long, smooth, steady strokes. But he did not cum, and I looked up at him anxiously: was I not pleasing him?

He laughed and pulled out of my mouth. "Don't worry, pretty slut, you did just fine. But I want to cum in that hot little body." Again he snapped his fingers and pointed to the bed this time, and I instantly assumed the position for use: on my back, legs spread wide, arms above my head. He studied me for a moment or two. "Very nice," he said finally, massaging his cock, still exposed and rock-hard.

Kicking off his shoes, he kneeled on the bed between my legs. He was so big and tall I had to open my legs wider for him than I usually have to, but he tapped my thigh and I obediently bent my knees and raised my legs, feet flat on the bed, and he settled into the saddle to begin the ride.

He was in no hurry, obviously he'd used slaves out before: he gently pushed my knees wider, grasped my ankles and slid my feet further up toward my hips. Again he ran his hands over my breasts and belly and smooth bare mound. I uttered a little moaning gasp as he began to move his fingers on and around my slit, then slipped one fingertip under my clit hood and pressed my little button, circling it, as it swelled. I raised my hips to him instinctively, a submissive and enslaved female offering herself to a dominant mastering male, and he smiled approvingly.

He began to massage my clit and inner pussy lips, pressing harder with three fingers, slipping them into my cunt, which by now was soaking wet. I arched at the feeling of his fingers inside me, then he withdrew one and pushed it into my ass.

"Yes, you're a hot little whore..." He pulled off his sweater to bare his chest, then he slipped off his pants. God, he was beautiful: well-muscled chest, flat belly, and that magnificent thick cock even bigger and stiffer and harder than it was. I shivered at the thought that such a superb tool was soon going to be drilling me; he asked Master for a gag, and fastened it over my mouth, which always makes me feel helpless and deliciously controlled, and then he flipped me over onto my belly and reached for the flogger that Master handed him.

At the first stroke I almost came right there. I've now been well conditioned to the lash, and I respond now to being whipped far more than I ever did before. He jerked my head around by my long hair, to see each lash bite into my ass and the curve of my back and the soft back of my thighs, and my pale skin first went white then turned fiery red. He was an expert: in a very few strokes he got me tingling, in a hot, spreading glow.

In my hazy warmth, I felt his cock head pushing at my ass entrance. He was going to take me there first, he had decided, and I felt his cock sliding in, an inch at a time. He exclaimed, pleased, at my tightness. Again he pulled my head around to look: it was a fine sight, his massive dick standing up black and proud out of me, where it was impaling my round white ass.

He drove all the way in, slowly, his thighs pressing against my butt cheeks, pushing his cock into me, and his hands coming around to the front to cup my mound, holding me still for him. A couple of fingers teased the line of my dripping slit, then they slipped inside. I could feel them moving in me, pressing against his cock in my ass, his thumb on my clit, and I pushed backwards against him, to get him even deeper, arching my back to give him better access to me. He did not take long to come, unloading into my insides and pulling out.

The other man took his turn. Throwing me on my back, he shoved into my pussy without delay. He remained kneeling upright, pulling my hips up to him. I have been used in that position often before, and I very much like it: he slid me smoothly onto his dick, putting me on like a sock, and we could both see him entering me, which was an incredible turn-on. Once he was snugly fitted inside, filling my cunt completely, he took a tighter hold of my hips and began slow thrusting; both of us watched his cock disappearing in me, then pulling out again, shiny with my wetness. At each driving thrust of his hips, I moaned a little behind the gag: I loved the way his shaft looked as it slid in and out of my swelling pink pussy lips, the way those lips looked as they were spread apart by his thickness.

He was deep into me, stretching me, then he lay forward to put all his weight on me and pulled me close to him against his chest, clasping his strong arms under me, pinning my own arms against my sides. My legs were open as wide as they can get; once a woman is impaled like this, stuffed deep, there's no way for her to escape being used well and hard. Not that I wanted to escape, of course. He shifted forward a little, so that he was riding high on me, his pubic bone and the base of his cock hitting hard against my clit. This is the way I love to be fucked, more than any other: helpless under a man's weight and strength, his cock buried in me right up to his balls. In full slave response now, my hips were rising and falling to meet his motion, locked close by his strength and the depth to which he was penetrating me. Our bellies slapped together, then they fused as close as they can get as we rocked in rhythmic motion. He was talking in my ear, his tongue rimming it and flicking into my ear hole, filling it and blocking the sound, then biting my lobe. "You're a fine piece of fuckmeat, you must know that.” He thrust sharply, heaving so hard my whole body moved up on the bed, and I moaned. I couldn't speak because of the leather gag and strap that pressed my lips together and kept my jaw shut, but I moaned, and he plunged deeper into me than before. We were rocking in unison, and I felt myself cumming. Screaming behind the gag, my body went rigid as my cunt exploded, and he drove into me one final enormous thrust and cummed hard, flooding my belly with hot juice.

He lied relaxed on top of me, while my still-throbbing cunt began to quiet down, then he pulled out of me and stand up. "That was quite a ride, little slut," he said, smiling, and kissed me on the navel. I shivered at the touch, and he laughed. He unstrapped the gag. "Thank you, Sir," I whispered.

They left, and I was lying spent and exhausted on the bed, one hand idly stroking my hammered pussy. Master came close to me and said, smirking: "Now Slut, I have plans for you!" The night wasn’t over.


Thursday, 23 September 2010

I was born to be a slave, and I exist to please men

I'm required to relate truthfully my training and my progress, no matter how much it embarrasses me.

It was in May 2010

A submissive girl doesn’t become a slave simply because she is a masochist. You need something else. Someone who obtains sexual gratification from being physically or emotionally abused, humiliated or mistreated is masochistic, but it is quite possible for a person to be masochistic without being submissive. What about the reverse: it is possible to be submissive without being masochistic? Yes, and simple: after years of sex with a patchy assemblage of different men, you meet the dominant alpha male, your Master, who gives rules and boundaries, who makes you happy to serve, who makes you discover you’re finding pleasure in being humiliated and degraded, who knows exactly how you need to be treated and when, a Master with whom you learn that your pleasure must be earned and is not given freely, who is your God and owns your body and your mind. You freely submit to His will, His caprices, His fancies. You love it, be it pain or pleasure, often a combination of the two. I know, now, I was born like that, I was born a slave, more precisely the sex slave of a dominant male, but surprisingly enough I discovered it to its full extent this year only. I also admit finding a sexual pleasure from being emotionally abused and humiliated, and Master knows it too well.

This is one of the reasons why He shares me with other kinks, He knows I fear it and find it terrible and disgusting but I also crave for it, for the humiliation of being given away as a whore and I end up so horny, my heart rate speeds up and my pussy becomes wet and slippery when He puts me in the predicament. If I’m permitted to cum, my body betrays me and at the peak of sexual excitement I reach mad orgasms when at the same time my eyes are filled with tears and I think I don’t want it. Subs psychology and body-and-mind connection are not simple, but sex with a woman's brain, at least mine, can make her cum whatever guys do to the rest of her. Is it ‘normal’ to be a shy nice looking healthy girl and to finally enjoy being taken as a whore? I don’t care, I need to demean myself, to be treated like an object, and Master taught me that part of the humiliation training is taking pleasure in being treated as a whore. I am now well trained, and crave for it.

There is other reason why Master uses me as a slave whore to be used freely by others: it arouses Him tremendously, and He needs frequently to be sexually stimulated that way. Watching your partner have sex with another person is a form of fore-play. For Master it is as effective as Viagra and better for health than a drug. He never gives me away without being there and watching intensely, sometimes wanking but never cumming while watching: He waits for my service to be all over then uses me afterwards or later in the night, sometimes after punishing me for... being such a slut! As I am doing it to please Him, I accept without constrain whatever He wants from me. I know He loves me and prices me high for not holding back, and that is the other reason why I do my best to pleasure strangers.

But pain? In fact I accept pain but that is not to say I enjoy it though now after proper training I admit it turns me on at the same time I fear it. I accept it docilely when it must come, and though I’m suffering, I’m inevitably wet after a few strokes and/or nipple clamping. At the beginning of our relationship, Master was refraining from hurting me without reason. There were no punishments, spanking or else, for His mere pleasure. If I’d been a bad girl, or fail to abide by the rules which is the same, I got punished as a result, but I knew why and accepted it with gratitude. Now, it is different. I realized He gets pleasure in coming up with painful practices what He was refraining from in the earlier times of my training, but I am happy when Master is happy with me, so everything is said. I have learnt my pleasure must be earned and is not given freely...

Master training was also about absolute control. Bondage was common (He loves I suck Him with my hands tied up in the back, says I do a better head that way), but in May - it’s still fresh in my memory - He started the practice of restraining me sometimes when leaving me home alone. One day He had to go out for dinner, a business gathering which I was not supposed to attend. He ordered me on the bed, lying on my back “spread eagle” and tied my wrists and ankles to the bedposts. Helpless and exposed, I thought I was in line for a session of rough and stormy sex, and that was making me all moist. This show as an aside I am not against being tied up and restrained… I was waiting for Master to fuck me and my cunt was lubricated and ready. Equally my butthole could have been used effortlessly. That time was different, Master said “You are to stay so while I am out for dinner. I’ll be back by midnight or later if I feel so. Needless to add that I want that bed clean when I’m back home.”

It was about seven pm when He left, smirking. I was there, helpless, not able to move. I had to spend about five hours restrained on the bed, alone and quiet, and I was happy. Some hours later, the order to “keep the king-size bed tidy” which had no real meaning at the beginning made me worry, then turn anxious, and finally terrorized to need to pee. Inevitably the pain happened and I knew if I let it go I would put myself on a difficult spot. I felt the dull ache in my bladder telling me I really needed to wee. Slowly but surely my belly felt swollen with pressure and the slightest movement hurt.

When I heard Master coming back, I was in a bad shape though doing my best, desperate for many hours, not able to hold any more because my bladder was full to the brim and ready for anything provided I was set free. Master came in and asked if I had been a good girl and if I have kept the bed sheet clean. I answered with a deep low voice “Your slut is happy and was waiting docilely for her Master, hoping to please Him.” He untied me slowly while my nerve response was saying it is time to piss. Suffering but without hurry (as I knew it could have an adverse result) I asked “Sir, do you wish your slut to go to the bathroom?” Pretending not to understand why, He said “Yes, go and refresh your face and have your pussy and ass washed and come back, naked but stockings and ready to serve.”

Oh my god! I went to the loo as quickly as my bursting bladder would allow, followed by Master watching me and clearly amused. As I reached the bathroom and opened the door, I lost control and I could feel my hot pee running down the inside of my left leg like a river. Master laughed. I looked down to see the growing puddle forming around my feet on the laminate floor. I thought I ought to feel embarrassed or upset, but you can’t imagine what awesome pleasure I had emptying out, and instead I felt turned on. I slipped my hand inside my soaked thighs and started to rub my pussy. I asked “May I cum Sir?” and as He nodded I cummed under a minute and could smell my pussy juices mixed with hot pee. “On your knees, slut, thighs spread” Master said. I kneeled down wide open while He unzipped His fly and took His cock out. “Do you want my tasty urine too, Slut?” I answered “Yes Sir, please give Your slut a golden shower”. He then pissed lengthily all over me, focusing on my cunt and my face. I was all wet and dripping. The quantity of urine was such I understood He had held it back for me. I was so grateful of how He was generous with me.


Friday, 17 September 2010

He wants to break me totally

April, May, ...My submissive life went on, progressing as Master charted it out. He was obviously happy to have found the tractable and docile girl He could change progressively into the perfect sex machine He wanted to own. In turn, I was (I am...) getting so much pleasure and fulfilment when He approves, acknowledges my conduct, or more simply is happy with my behaviour that I had (I have...) no boundaries left when His will and wishes are formulated or merely guessed by me.

Master wanted more training about submission, in fact to break my mind, my shyness and my modesty so completely that He could see me happy and cool whatever degrading and humiliating the situation was. As He prizes my work though I’m only a simple secretary/hostess, weekdays are only playfield for submission tests – dressing slutty, kinky orders by phone - but thanks to distance we had seldom lunch or daylight sex sessions, and He -so far!- doesn’t want I go beyond being a tease for my workmates. But weekends are His time as my almighty owner, and mine as His submissive whore.

That Saturday, speaking briefly as usually, He told me I was to be done by one of His friends in need. In fact it was not a friend, but a new acquaintance Master had met the week before and with whom He struck up a friendship.

That man told Master that in his midfifties he didn’t care to seduce women but was rather happy to pay for whores. The point was that whores hardly accept to have anal sex, so he wanted a girl accepting a full and rough assfuck. A bright May weekend was starting. Master phoned him in front of me, just telling He had the right girl for what he wanted, and contrary to a whore it will be free... A bottle of something will do. This terrified me and got me excited at the same time. Master then told me He choose that man because he was unattractive, not a nice looking guy which would arouse me... He added the man was coming on Sunday, and I had to be well prepared, assplug on to spread my hole after the morning was to be devoted to another preparation: I had to go without breakfast and prepare myself with an enema to get my hole clean.

By noon, completely empty and shining clean after a bubble bath, I dressed as I was ordered. Got on my white see-through mini dress with black stockings and suspenders, and high heels. No panties and no bra. Master told me to bend over to insert the plug. He whispered in my ear that it was going to stretch me wider than I have been stretch before. “Do you want it, slut?” “Yes Sir, your slut want it badly, thank you Sir.” He placed the end against my bum hole after He opened it with one then three fingers, and pushed the buttplug slowly in. He said “I like to see your anus hugging the plug. Don’t move, it has still got much to get through your tight ass before it will shrink round the thinner bit. Isn’t the pain exquisite?” I responded what was expected: “Yes Sir, thank you Sir” though I was trying not to groan nor cry. Master kept pushing slowly but constantly and finally when the resistance and pain made me think it couldn’t go in it plopped in and my ass sucked up the thin bit until it was clamped in. Master laughed and said “Go and see your back in the mirror.” Walking with difficulty, I went and saw my ass hole stretched round the plug with the outer ring slightly puckered up around the dildo.

The doorbell rang. Master said “Pleasuring strangers is part of your training to become the perfect slut I want to own, but in addition I want you to know it pleases me to see you used as a whore and giving pleasure as I see fit in front of me.” He added “I train you because you need it and I know what’s good for you... In your case, forced submission creates sexual arousal, but remember: you’re not allowed to cum with this guy.” I was far from orgasm but totally submissive to His wishes I responded I was happy with whatever He decided. Master opened the door and the man He promised me to came in. He was short and fat, not pleasant looking. He had brought a bottle of good wine. Master and him sat and had a drink while I was standing as instructed, legs slightly apart, looking down. After a while the man told me with a hoarse voice to slip my panties down and to come closer. I came to him saying “I have no panties, Sir.” I turned my back to the armchair he was sitting in and bent over causing my short dress to riding up my thighs and showing off my plugged bare ass. I was shivering as a scared bitch, docilely waiting bent over and legs spread for the follow. The man caressed my butt with one hand while he was exploring my crevice with the other, this lasted some time.

The man asked Master: “Shall I get started now?” Master nodded saying “She is for you, ready for what you want.” The man stand, took his clothes off, and ordered me to do same and to suck him. I undressed but my stockings and my shoes and kneeled down, my face level to his cock, his fat belly falling on it. I put my mouth over his short and fat cock, and started a meticulous and rather slow moving blowjob while he grunted and growled. After a long time he told me to stop and follow him and we went to the bedroom. I was ordered to climb on the bed on all fours, my ass over the edge of the bed. He carelessly turned the assplug round a few time and half pull it out and slide it back in. Next he grabbed the plug and pulled it out in one pull. I jolted as hit by an electricity shot when it plopped out and immediately I felt the tip of his cock at my open asshole, then he shoved it up violently. He went on slamming his cock in my open ass, making all sorts of noises. It was not difficult not to cum as ordered by Master, because it was painful and disgusting... To be totally frank, I must add that I was also turned up and wet at the same time, enduring the pain docilely. Hard to explain, but I was not far to be happy to be humiliated and raped that way by a stranger. Again a situation where you can't tell if you crave what's happening or fear it. What I know is that it created an intense amount of moisture between my thighs.

After a long time the man grunted out “I’m cumming” and took his huge shaft out of my asshole and ejaculated on my buttocks and open pussy. I felt his cum running down my ass over my pussy and along my thighs and my stockings. While I thanked him, Master told me not to move before being permitted. They both went out of the room and had again a drink, finishing the bottle while I was waiting on all fours with the sticky cum drying up on me. Much later on, when the man was away, Master authorized me to move and to go to the bathroom.


Thursday, 26 August 2010

Easter Weekend Training (Part 3), The End

Big Fatty obviously satisfied but tired went to sit and watch what happens next.

The two other men must have been seriously turned on by the blowjob live show because they were displaying a major boner, their rods were huge and pulsating, letting me know that these guy would now stick their erected cocks in anything with a hole and I was there enslaved for that purpose.

They were middle-aged, looking more aged than middle I would say. One of them was bald-headed with his body hairy as a monkey, the other one was older, not really disgusting but more simply unattractive, showing the prominent belly of a man in his mid-fifties. Both were sweating and their perspiration was now a well-marked scent. Their nudity was crudely revealing their flabby appearance, and nothing was appealing in these despicable strangers but the unusual size of their rods.

Master was watching silently, I noticed a light smirk on his face. I had and still not have any idea of where and how he hired these men.

All sort of objects were lying on the coffee table. The older obese Rhino took a pair of nipple clamps with a chain in between and a hitched brass weight, attached the nipple clamps onto my breasts, and pulled me toward the sofa. It was pulling suddenly hard at my nipples and I thought “Ouch!”, of course without uttering any cry as I know there would be repercussions should I make unsolicited noises.

‘Monkey’ (the other man) took the lead, guided me to the sofa and made me bend over the back. Knowing how to behave I spread my legs open, offering myself for inspection, as the chain and the weight stretched my tits downwards the other side of the back of the sofa. I know they were staring my bare plugged ass and wet pussy framed by my stockings and garter belt, then I felt their hands on my arse, caressing my butt cheeks, moving the buttplug, feeling my pussy, pinching my clitoris, fingering my cunt. I was thinking “Here I am, not a girl but a sex toy for their emotionless sexual needs, a slave to molest. I don’t know these men, they don’t care a damn who I am, for I am simply a piece of meat with functional holes which they will use for their pleasure and relief. No, not only that: I am also supposed to enjoy their gang rape and thank them for their brutal use of my body.” Yet while having those thoughts I realized I was dripping wet. Not from physical pleasure from hands and fingers viciously searching my privates while my nipples were really painful and my inside stretched by the sizeable buttplug, but from my feeling of being downgraded to nothing more than an object, and by observing that I had turned in fact to a wet bitch in heat waiting for more humiliation. Thanks to the circumstances and to these careless primitive men, it was just dripping out of my pussy.

From where and how I was I could see Master. Again He was smirking and my pleasure to guess His pleasure took me close to cumming. I hold back though as I was not sure permission was granted.

The older guy told Monkey to go round the sofa, as he would fuck me first while my mouth could make Monkey’s cock wait on pleasantly.

I was completely aroused and my cunt was already convulsing. Not allowed to speak, I thought “Please fuck me Sir, do fuck me deep”. My wish was indeed to be granted. Within seconds ‘Older’ (the Rhino) was tapping the head of his cock against my butt cheeks, then he took one of my legs up to open my rump wider and I felt him pulling out the butt plug then right away I felt the head of his cock at my asshole. In one stroke he pushed his cock all the way in. I gasped as it finished its entrance into my stretched ass, I thought “OMG He is going to fuck my butthole hard.”

I just had the time to utter “Thank you Sir” before Monkey in front of the sofa pushed his rod into my mouth all the way down my throat.

‘Older’ dropped my leg, grabbed my hips and started ramming into my ass as hard as he could. He pounded my hole fast and harshly. Despite Master’s training, I wasn’t sure I could take a pounding like that in the ass but unexpectedly in only a few minutes I wanted to cum. In ‘normal’ times Master makes me cum when He fucks my backdoor, only because He is the Master and my orgasm is stemming from His use of His property, and because He wants me to be a good anal slut. Before Master reign, I had never cum but once while someone else was fucking my ass and I wanted to every time now.

I realized I wanted to orgasm long before ‘Older’ even got to the point of wanting to cum. I made two mistakes. First, busy with what was happening to me, Monkey considered I was not sucking his cock up to his expectations (though one may have asked if I was sucking him or if it was him fucking my mouth as he was holding my head and hair with both hands shaking it backward and forward like a puppet’s). He slapped brutally my face while I heard him saying “Work my boner on properly, lazy whore slut.”

The second mistake was related, as I begged ‘Older’ and Master at the same time to let me cum. Both said NO! with one voice. I wanted to cum so badly I would have done anything to get that permission. I was cooled down by Master’s voice adding “Slut, you cum when I tell you to cum and not a second before do you understand? You will be punished for your misbehaviour.” I grunted an obedient response as I was not much for talking at the moment, having pulled myself together and started again docilely the best blowjob I could produce on Monkey’s cock.

In my back, ‘Older’ was still pumping hard and deep using my dilated asshole as a cunt, then I heard: “You are just a slut loose whore who wants anything filled with cock, now take my cum up your slut whore ass.” He cummed hard, I felt it spray inside of me, thinking of his hot thick sticky gooey milky man juice flowing through deep into my ass. “Look at that cum dumpster, thank me for creaming your asscunt, whore, and now you may cum for me.” My body quaked at the command. I was immediately consumed with lust and letting out a low, soft moan, I thanked him while experiencing the longest orgasm of the day so far. However complex and hard to admit, I get pleasure out of submission, humiliation and being tortured.

‘Older’ grabbed my hair and pulled on to drive me down on my knees facing his messy cock. “Clean your mess, slut.” I did it over with my lips and my tongue, hands on my arse as I have been taught. When the member was shining clean, he said “You are doing good, slut. Next, now!”

Monkey ordered me to come over to the other side of the sofa to take his tour. His pulsing large rod was a clear message.

He pushed me into the seat of the sofa, my ass sitting on the edge, lying on my back. He then ordered me to spread my legs as wide as I could and to finger my moist pussy. “Have you noticed the size of my cock, slut? I know the sight of it is making you jump for joy, yet I need a very juicy well lubricated gaping vagina to fuck comfortably off.” I responded “I am very fortunate you care to use me for your pleasure Sir. I am so happy to serve you Sir, I’ll try to be equal to my duty and I can assure you my vagina is slippery wet and ready now!”

He climbed on the sofa and sat on my face. “Lick my ass clean, slut!” Gagged by his fatty and hairy ass, I could barely breathe but I managed to slide my tongue into his anus as deep as I could and move it around. He grunted like a pig. While licking his asshole as I endured the offending taste and the similarly offending odour of his ass, I realised I was again deeply aroused and consumed with a lust new to me.

Monkey disengaged from his posture, and came back in front of me. My legs were spread open, and he started playing with my pussy. He then slammed my sore nipples, making the clamps more painful, and after long minutes of that game he released my tits from the tool. “You like that don’t you fucking cunt?” I whispered “Thank you Sir!”

He bent over between my spread legs and put three fingers inside me, then forced four fingers deep inside, fucking me hard with his hand. “Move, loose fucking whore”, he shouted. I started rocking the best I could on his hand, then he took it off and started eating and sucking my pussy lips in his mouth.

Getting back on his feet, Monkey touched my pussy with the head of his cock, then positioned the awesome member at my pussy lips and thrust in as hard as he could into my cunt. I felt a sharp pain and groaned softly, then cried silently. The sight of his short and large hairy chest made me feel I was fucked by a gorilla. He laughed out, excited by my tears, driving his cock deeper and deeper, stuffing me full, pounding deep inside me, fucking me with all his might until cumming deep inside, sending his spunk into me. I didn’t orgasm a second time and I was really happy when he splooged into my vagina, putting an end to this severe test.

When he was done and I had cleaned up his cock as I did his friend’s, I walked up to Master, knelt down respectfully, and asked “Did your slave please you Sir?”

“You are doing good slut,” He said.

He sent me back to Monkey. I prostrated myself before him, kissed his feet and said “I am nothing but a cock worshiping slut that needs be used all the time. Thank you Sir.” They all smirked.

I knew the evening session aroused Master, tremendously. He seemed happy of the results of my training. He said however I had still to keep training and I has still to progress in order to hold my leash close and tight enough. As an aside, He added my two mistakes will translate later in a strong punishment. I am not sure I deserve it but I know it will please Master. So it will be as it ought to be.

All that took place in April 2010...