Saturday, 19 March 2011

Celebration weekend (2) - Still Friday night...

I was still seated in the sofa, skirt up and thighs open, absent minded, gently rubbing my pussy, trying to recover from that explosive orgasm, when Master woke me up from my dream, ordering I get up and strip down to my stockings and heels. He wanted to have dinner now, and His slut naked at the table.

I fetched in the kitchen the succulent dish Master bought at the delicatessen store, cold lobster surrounded by different salads and eggs. I love egg mayonnaise, in particular “oeufs mimosa,” one of the best find of French (basic) cuisine:  – you hard boil an egg, remove the yolk and mix it with mayonnaise, herbs, salt and pepper, then return it to the egg white. Delicious! Master opened a wonderful bottle of French white wine and I truly believe it was the best meal I have had in my entire life. While eating and chatting, I was thinking of that past year with Master, how I made my way and how much He changed me. That dinner, for instance: I was sitting naked at the table in front of a man, my tits pointing over my plate, nipples hard and erected because I was still horny, while He was dressed with slim fit cotton trousers and a pinpoint Oxford shirt, His usual weekend attire. And the shy girl I was last year, which would have been blushing and bashful, was now nearly relaxed. I knew of course it was because Sir was my Master, and because I had now fully assimilated that I was owned and His object.

“Sir, thanks to Your guidance, I look at myself as a much better person than what I was,” I said cheerfully with an elate face. “You're not in the habit of drinking wine,” Master answered. “No, I mean it, Sir. All that I have gone through has enabled me and forced me to take a look at myself and I have become a much better person because of You.”

Before the dessert, a cake and chocolate mousse, Master stand up, lit a cigar (He seldom smokes, sometimes a big cigar) and came near me, blowing a cloud of smoke into my face. He touched one of my knees and instinctively I opened my legs. Inserting a finger into my pussy, He said, smiling, “Good girl, you're still all wet and ready. While I smoke, get the first part of your dessert on your knees, you little British whore.” He sat back, while I went quickly on all fours in front of His chair, not forgetting to say “Thank you Sir!”

When I unzipped His pants, I felt He was hard. I'm always happy when Master gets a boner, it means I turn Him on because I am the right slut. Carefully I took his cock out and into my mouth and started to swirl my tongue around the head. While I was licking and kissing softly, hands on my buttocks as He taught me, He reached down and fingered my tits and pinched my nipples hard. Pleasure and pain! How I loved it now! Trying to forget my nipples, I concentrated on His shaft when I noticed that my mouth, painted brightly red, was smearing some lipstick on my Master's wet cock...

“I ordered you to suck me, slut, not to paint my cock." I stopped sucking at this instant, just holding my pussy's best friend in my mouth, and raised my eyes but happily He was laughing, so I started swirling my tongue around the head again, alternating with slides all the way down my throat. I was making it a quiet, teasing, promising beginning. After a short time, Master grabbed a fistful of my hair and twisted slightly, lifting my head from His crotch and making me cry out. I was thrilled. I just love to have my hair pulled.

Master then grabbed my nipples and began again to tug on them, twisting and pulling just hard enough to hurt, but not so hard that it didn't make me gasp with arousal. I arched my back, trying to relieve the pressure on my poor breasts, but He just pulled harder, pinching my aching little nubs. “Great tits.” He sighed, and slapped one of them, hard. It bounced and swayed from side to side, and He did it again with the other one. “Oh yeah, I like that!” He said, and proceeded to spank my breasts, making them bounce and shudder painfully. I cried out at each impact, the skin on my breasts turning a brilliant red and my nipples swelling and hardening. He noticed this and began to aim His blows for those abused, red peaks, making me yelp every time He connected. Very soon my breasts were bright red and very sensitive, and He once again grabbed my nipples and twisted. I began to cry and He let go of my painful nubs.

Despite myself I found I was getting turned on again, soaking wet and leaking, and when He slipped one finger into my pussy I moaned and pushed back on it. He stroked his finger in and out a few times before returning to sponging me down, and I whimpered in frustration. “Patience,” He said, “You get to come if and when I allow it.”

“Tonight we're one on one. Tomorrow is another day, I have two very hungry friends coming over from England, you don't know them yet but you'll tell me on Sunday night whether I was right when I told you this weekend would be special and you will forever remember it. Now come in the dungeon, I want to use your cunt.” The 'dungeon' is a spare bedroom, a guestroom in fact, with a specially equipped bed, not noticeable if not in use. I rushed in that bedroom and climbed on the bed while Master undressed, and He joined me saying, “You know you must always suck the cock that fucks you. Clean it with your mouth to show your appreciation for the owner using your slutty body.” I reached for a kleenex to wipe my lipstick away before sucking again the cock I loved.

When the shaft was shining clean and iron hard and all wet, I lied down flat on the bed, facing up, and Master tied my hands onto the headboard, attaching my wrist cuffs to the restraint hoops of the corners. He pulled my legs straight out to my sides, splitting me as far open as my body allows and then secured my ankles and thighs to the bed sides, sliding a pillow under my hips to lift my buttocks. He stood back for an instant and walked around me, enjoying the view. He then opened a drawer of the night table and reached for a buttplug. I knew He really wanted to please me that day as He dripped lube onto my asshole and rubbed it in, before quickly shoving the plug in in one shot, still I gasped for breath. I heard His pleasure in His laugh as He quieted me down with His hands, rubbing my crevasse and butt.

Then Master positioned himself over me and started fingering my holes and my clit. Pressed between the bed and His weight, and tied down, my only release was through my voice, which turned Him on more. Then slowly, so slowly, He entered me, taking His time. I don't know how long He took, and I wasn't caring. I moaned loudly while He was taking His time that way to sinking deep into my flesh. He paused a moment smiling at how I squirmed against him with need. Then He fucked me. He stroked into me slowly, over and over again, kissing me deeply. When either of us came close to going over the edge He would pull away and change positions, then start again.

I was mad on how He pressed into me with His heavy thickness. I was pulling hard on my bondage and when I started to be unable to hold my moans He gave me his hand to muffle me. He leant close to my ear and whispered, “Cum for me.” I clenched tight around Him and threw my head back, moaning uncontrollably, my pussy spasmed, clutching His member, orgasming so hard around His throbbing cock. “Good girl” He whispered as I panted under Him. I knew that at the same time He also cummed deep into my cunt, filling my womb. When He pulled free of me, I felt the dribble of His cum run down my thighs.

Later on, we came back at the table and ate the dessert. That chocolate was a dream as the whole evening. I was allowed plenty thanks to our celebration, but also because Master warned me: “Tomorrow morning, no food but an enema. Asshole must be clean and ready for our guests.”


(To be continued)

Friday, 4 March 2011

Celebration weekend (1) - Friday night

For the first anniversary of my new status of His Sub / Owned Slut, Master treated me extra special and organised a hip and exciting weekend, weird and cool... It had to be hot, it had to be all about love, and sex, and bdsm, it had to highlight I was “beloved” and cherished and at the same time I was His slave with no other purpose in life than to serve, obey and please Him. Master Sir, so kindly and sweetly, wanted my pleasure to be the thread of that two days, aware that it would be the resultant of bits of romantic gentle sex mixed with bits of humiliation and lewd whoring. He knows all of me, and He is now familiar with the deep pleasure that eventually flows through my body and my whole being when I am sexually assaulted, humiliated and degraded. It is feared and craved at the same time, I can't explain. Pain is just same for me, I don't want it and I love it...

As promised, and as requested by Master, I will tell you all what happened during these three days. These stories will be spread over several blogposts to make the entries shorter.

When I came back from work on Friday evening, a bunch of red roses was waiting for me. Before I could kneel down in the entrance and reach for His cock to kiss it (my ordinary protocol to say “Hello,” I just love it!) He hugged me and started a slow and passionate kiss. So cool and so hot at the same time. You can't imagine how pleasurable the simple act of passionate kissing can be to me. Kissing Master activates my senses and sets me on fire. He knows how to tease me, and fills me to the brim with the desire of wanting Him. The very act of kissing alone can bring me at the edge of an orgasm if done correctly, and Master's kissing is always so perfect...

A fab meal and a creamy cake for dessert were waiting for us (He knows I prefer sweets things to savouries if I must do often without as I have to watch myself), but before to go for dinner He took me to the candle-lit sitting room where a bottle of French champagne was cooling in the ice bucket. While we were drinking and kissing, laughing and just enjoying one another's company, He ordered I get my panties down. I was dressed in my usual office style, I mean how Master wants me everyday at work, with a sexy, light blue curve-defining cami with deep scoop neck and open cup shelf-bra perfect for a lot of cleavage, very short red seamed pencil skirt, and of course fully-fashioned, Cuban heeled nude sheer stockings with backseam and welt top. Master buys them for me, they are so expensive, and I love them, not for that but because they are luxuriously soft and silky to wear, and with stiletto heels my legs look so great. Stockings are my favourite part of lingerie. They give a woman power and sex appeal.

I have thus two reasons to wear stockings, firstly because Master orders it, and secondly to make my legs look gorgeous. In addition to the sexy shimmering look, the fact that you’re wearing them for no other reason than to be sexy… makes them sexy!  Garter belts, sheer panties and stockings tend to frame and lead men’s gaze to the ultimate goal of female private parts. Always more exciting when partially covered and decorated. Look at yourself naked and then wearing lingerie. Which is more enticing? And the attitude required to wear lingerie well is, to most males, irresistible. I knew that too well before being owned by Master, but it is clear than Master is like all the males from that angle. More, perhaps. He has clearly a stocking and garterbelt fetish (I mentioned that before) and He requires that I wear them at all times unless otherwise given permission.

I pulled my panties off as Master asked. I slid them down very easily as I always wear them over the garter belt. That way they can conveniently and quickly be removed, and at the same time it helps nylons to stay in place by drawing the garters tight, particularly when seated. While uncovering my girlie bits under my skirt, I was wondering whether that time, for once, Master would want me fully naked to play and I was ready to remove teasingly my clothing in the most seductive and sexy way...

Nah! I was forgetting once again that I am not His wife or His significant other, but His sub and sex toy if He truly loves me. “No, not now, Slut. First, lift your skirt up to your waist and bend over legs apart. Before pleasure for everybody I must start our celebration weekend by reminding you who you are.” Master picked up the riding crop, said “You'll get twenty, it's a number I like,” to what the good girl I am – forcing a smile - obediently responded “Thank you Sir,” and He slowly started to lash my bare ass and my thighs, harder each time. Holding the back of a chair, I counted out loud as I have been taught, while thanking Master and trying not to cry. I was finding the stings of the crop almost unbearable (He wasn't holding back), my ass was burning red, I was convinced Master was the worst torturer ever, I had tears in my eyes (hoping mascara will not equal a river of black streaks down my cheeks by the end of the predicament), though my clit was engorged, my cunt was dripping, and I was having thrills running through my spine.

When the cropping was over, my butts were burning and my pussy was all wet and I had juices leaking along my thighs. I was burning outside and so hot inside. Master ordered, “Keep your skirt up and sit on the edge of the sofa, legs wide spread.” So I did. “Tell me who you are.” “I am a slut, Sir, your cumslut.” Yes you are slut, but you're also a whore. Friends of mine are coming tomorrow and you'll show all of us what a good whore you can be.” Hot and cold, to testing my submission. I knew He had planned a busy weekend. While talking, Master was bending over my naked crotch and wet pussy framed by my stockings and garter belt. “I'm going to make you cum, slut!”

Yummy! Master now wanted to pleasure me, and He knows so well how to give me the utmost sexual satisfaction. He showed me that Friday night again what an expert He was in using all my delicate and responsive spots, vulva and clitoris with His tongue and mouth, and my G-spot and even my anal opening with His fingers. He started by caressing my legs while working His way towards my inner thighs, and then He touched my outer vaginal lips before making contact with the area just above my clitoris. I was moaning and panting. Using His tongue, He made some sweeping motions on my labia without going straight for the clitoris because He knows this is my highly sensitive area. He played around my cunt using His mouth and tongue, sensitive to my moans and responses as evidenced by His knowledge of which move in particular had an earth-shattering effect. I was jiggling and my orgasm was building up.

Master felt it, he spread out my pussy lips and His tongue took literally a dive into my cunt, while His middle finger was stimulating my G-spot. I was mad. When He zeroed onto my clit, my hips were digging into His face, my gasping became sharper, my moaning higher pitched. Suddenly I screamed, my vagina tightened up and suddenly went lax – I was having one of the longest and strongest mind-blowing orgasm of my life.

This was only the beginning of the party. More to follow.