Hi! It’s probably late for that, but I still want to wish a very Happy and Kinky New Year to you all, my depraved and arousing friends, sexy boys and slutty bitchy gals. In my hometown, the New Year party went way into the night and – hehe - I managed to complete the mission Master gave me. Must tell you how. Master was pleased, I felt it when I spoke to Him on the phone about midnight to wish Him (us?) a kinky New Year and tell Him everything was going right including my success in doing properly all what I was ordered so far.
Saturday was another special day, have to tell you about as well. And finally last Sunday my trip back home to Master got complicated for a number of reasons which made me land in northern France on Monday morning instead of Sunday night. My fault, apparently. However that may be Master made me pay for that as well as for my behaviour last Saturday, which I described as “excessive” and He called “bad”. It is fair. I deserve my punishments, I am happy to take them, all the more so since on balance they are providing me with a level pleasure that happen to prevail over physical pain and mental suffering from disgrace.
Er…! After a quick look over my shoulder through that beginning, Master whispered in my ear with His half mocking half cruel grin: “It’s quite natural, I’ve taught you to love the kiss of my cane on your butt cheeks and the hiss of my crop cracking on your skin. You love the pain and the burning because it’s my hand, my gift. Also, sweet cumslut, you have now learnt since you are collared how humiliation can turn you on, and what awesome pleasure fills you when degraded and used as a sextoy. Now, write! Tell everyone what you did and who you are, wanton sub.”
“Sweet cumslut!” He called me “sweet cumslut”… I felt an electric shock and instantly wetted my panties. I looked up imploringly, but He was already walking away. Master really wants I post about my New Year experiences.
Here we are. If you remember, I was last Friday with my family on my native soil in southern England, far away from Master but happy after all if often missing a good, long and hard fucking and while I was also mad curious to know what exactly Master was doing of His time while I was away. Still not managed to know so far, but it’s another story. Well, He gave me as I told you a task not so easy to perform: I had in this narrow provincial city to give a blowjob to a guy, any man but a stranger. It had to be somebody I knew and, to make it difficult, Master added that man must know me equally, he must be a friend from our teens. A blowjob, without allowing him to fuck any of my other holes.
The New Year party was precisely organised by my brother and he and my sister cared to invite a quite a bunch of my old friends from schooldays. As far as I can remember, I had sex with many of them one time or the other. Was I relaxed? Not really, they knew I was living abroad with the man of my life (though not aware of our lifestyle) and they would presumably not expect me to flirt and hook them up, even if our past must have left so hot memories to many. I knew also they were all but one dating or actually fully fledged couples, so the strategy was bound to be simple: to avoid difficulties I had to flirt with the single one, Charlie, and unless I have dramatically changed I’ll get where I want to be.
Charlie! Not a problem, not really, but a tad of dislike that I must overcome… We’ve known each other for a long time, he was alone, he had presumably a cock, I simply must seize that unique opportunity to do what I was tasked. I was not alone to find him fat, boring and very unattractive in our teens, and neither me nor the other girls of the group ever had bodily experience with him. Too bad so sad, cry me a river Alexia, you don’t have a choice, you must suck him dry.
At the party, memories came rushing back to me too. We ate, we danced like mad, and our bright and shining eyes were showing we were remembering the past. I also knew many of the girls, mostly now significant other of my pals, and I was aware of their stories as well as they were of mine… I felt vulnerable and it reminded me an experience involving a number of friends here. Vulnerability is hottest when it isn’t forced. When it’s given willingly. When my friend and I in high school wanted to be “prostitutes” and got our guy friend to be our “pimp” - I think that was willingly given vulnerability. We gave ourselves to him, we asked him to hit us on days we didn’t make much money. We wanted to be whores. We wanted no choice but to have ten different boys shove their cocks in our mouths in the bathroom at lunch-time and call us dirty names, and then have to sit next to them in class. It didn’t last long, but we loved it. Vulnerability is a rush.
Tonight, the whore is out again, and for the first time since Master owns me, I will be whoring away without Him watching, but that is what He wanted and ordered. Dumpy dog-faced Charlie will get the surprise of his life when he’ll understand that he is the spotted prey of that sexy girl he never dreamt to do before. I started my approach. With the help of music and vodka he was all relaxed and easy going. I don’t drink and he didn’t notice my dopamine receptors were haywire from so much of what feels like the right kind of attention. We were now flirting intensely, Charlie and me, and I was only hoping nobody would notice it too much, but all the couples were hot and busy. I was doing a good job, Charlie was excited and horny, he started to stroke my thighs and play with my stocking tops and my suspenders, or a hand in my cleavage. My hand was grabbing his crotch, feeling the bulge in his pants. After a short while he was confident to be the charmer, the guy who knows how to talk to and get the ladies, and he whispered raucously in my ear: “Let’s go and fuck upstairs, I’m close to cum in my boxers!”
That was it, but I had still to manipulate him into a blowjob without fucking. We left the table and walked out, climbed the stairs and entered the first empty room we found as some were already in use.
Charlie was so aroused he immediately took his trousers off and ordered me to undress as well. I peeled off my blouse. Just do it. Master wants it, doesn’t He? I unclipped my bra and draped it over the back of a chair. Topless for Charlie who was already cupping my nipples in his coarse hands. Well... I did more for Master’s friends wearing less. Not a big deal. Just flesh. Reveal it, Expose it. You're used to it now. I unzipped my mini-skirt, pulled it down to my ankles and kicked it aside. My bottom tingled, I was a whore, wasn't I? Get ready to pleasure this man and do your best, whore, I told myself.
I kneeled if front of him and told him with humble doe eyes: “Charlie, we cannot fuck, please let me give you the blowjob of your life, I’m craving to suck you…” – “Ok then, I won’t ride you, suck my cock bitch, work it well!” Obediently I panted on the end of his penis and flicked my tongue frantically at his shaft. Occasionally I looked up at him to check how He was enjoying the slut. His behavior made me think he was certainly a regular customer of prostitutes. He grabbed one of my breasts and squeezed it firmly. He released it and slapped it. He tugged at my nipple, turned it expertly in his fingers. He placed his cock between my breasts and made me massage it there with my tits. I pressed my palms to the outside of my bust and rubbed them obediently into his shaft. The tip of his penis thrust and stabbed me at my throat. My nipples were extraordinarily hard, hot, swollen. What a disgrace. Why did I feel the need to obey him? But it felt so good to hold his throbbing penis between my breasts.
I do love giving blowjobs, even that night to that despicable and clumsy twat. How to explain? It was degrading, but again the humiliation turned me on and brought pleasure. One of the world's most satisfying things is kneeling on front of a man, taking his cock deep in your mouth, sucking, and looking up to see the most satisfied smile on his face. It’s such a simple act but gives such immense pleasure and it makes me really happy to know that I can be responsible for that.
He slapped my arse. It felt good. It felt awful. It felt wonderful. It felt horrible. I was a bitch whore slut cunt meat dog wasn’t I?
I was on my knees. A viscous liquid – his precum - was oozing from the opening at the tip of his penis. I lapped it. Then I took back again his swollen cock into my mouth and slurped over its length as he thrust it down my throat. God! I was deep-throating that man! And enjoying it… No - hating it… loathing him, loathing myself. “Drink it, bitch” my fuck-master barked at me, yanking my head viciously, forcing me to cry out. I opened my mouth wide for him, stuck my tongue out, waggled it greedily. I waited for him to shoot his splooge down my throat. “Don't swallow,” he instructed, between laboured breaths. “Take my cum in your mouth and keep it there. I want you to taste me.” He ejaculated over my face. I stuck out my tongue and received his semen appreciatively upon it. I pouted and smiled up at him. I swapped his cum backwards and forwards in my mouth, tasting him, as he had ordered. I held my mouth open so he could see his semen and know that I had obeyed him and not swallowed so far. He shook himself over me. I petted the tip of his penis with my tongue, taking off the last drops of his semen.
“Stop,” he commanded suddenly. “Alexia, fetch me your panties.” My nipples pointed out and up at him, my breasts were swollen and flushed with arousal. How shameful. I handed him my panties. He stuffed them in my mouth and rubbed them into the inside of my cheeks. Then he flicked them dispassionately into my bosom. “Put them on,” he said. He clicked his fingers, as if to say: “And hurry up.” I scooped them up and felt their wetness. I stood as I stepped into the panties and pulled them up around my sex. By the time I had finished adjusting the straps on my hips, wearing the sperm-soiled thong and swallowing the rest of the load he had blown in my mouth, he ordered “Turn around.” I turned. He stroked my ass. My buttocks tingled. “Wear my semen with pride,” he said, patting my bottom.
He took my chin firmly, forcing me to look up at him. “Good girl, I made you happy, you should thank me,” he wheezed. And I did. Except that I blurted “Thank you Sir!” Walking out, he asked “Why do you call me Sir?”