Author: slave (Page 3 of 30)

(in no particular order)

Going down my journey and posting it here (Finding Me) has been a cathartic, emotional trip. I’ve actually enjoyed sharing more about myself to help the new readers understand who I am and where I came from.

I originally found this on Tumblr, seems like the perfect starting point. I’ve tweaked it a little to fit my own story better, and I hope it gives you a glimpse into my world.

1. Because his pleasure is my pleasure.

There are lots of things in life that bring me pleasure: a perfectly roasted chicken, unicorns, glitter, tootsie rolls, fairy lights, getting an A+, a really good action movie with lots of explosions, guns, violence, and goofiness, debating ridiculous philosophical, political, and other stuff with my best friends, traveling, and getting the perfect messy bun. Literally, the list goes on and on and on.

But nothing brings me more pleasure than the way that His pleasure does, the way my Master’s pleasure does. And I’m not just talking about sexual pleasure – I’m talking about all kinds of pleasure. Sucking his cock and taking it all the way down my throat over and over until he feeds me his cum and tells me what a good girl I am for him and getting to revel in the fact that I’ve given him such pleasure that he couldn’t help but cum brings me such tremendous pleasure.

But you know what else brings me pleasure? Knowing how pleased he is when I serve him his favorite dinner. Knowing how much it pleases him when I fold his t-shirts the right way. Knowing how much he loves and gets pleasure out of watching me sing along (badly) to my bubblegum pop playlist while I wash the kitchen counters.

Watching his face light up when I meet him with a drink and a smile when he gets home from work. Kneeling at his feet and leaning against his leg so he can pet my hair while he reads or watches TV and giving him the comfort of knowing I’m there, knowing I kneel for him, knowing I serve him, knowing I love him, knowing that I’m his with that very simple act.

And when it’s sexual? The way he chuckles when I’m tied to his bed and writhing beneath his touch and whimpering and begging for release? It makes me smile inside. The way it turns him on to deny me? It makes me even wetter. The sick and twisted joy he gets out of ruining an orgasm or denying me one? It makes my girl parts tingle and makes me beg even harder.

If he didn’t get pleasure out of the things he did to me, It wouldn’t be the same. I get turned on because of his dirty words and his talented fingers and the way he fucks me until I can’t think straight, sure – but even more, I get turned on by knowing how much pleasure he gets out of watching me whimper and moan and beg and cry and do what I’m told.

It’s all kinds of pleasure. Any pleasure I give him, any way I please him, any way I make his day better or make him happy or make things just a little bit easier for him brings me pleasure.

It pleases me to make him feel good. It makes me happy to know that I’ve made him happy. It makes me feel whole and safe and happy and good to bring him pleasure. It lights me up inside. That’s why I serve him – because pleasing him is what makes me the happiest I can be.

2. Because I crave structure, and I crave it from him.

(This should be my Number One!) I found that being a slave, I crave structure. No, I don’t just crave it—I need it. I do better with rules, limits, and a schedule in place.

But here’s the thing—I don’t do well following the rules, limits, and schedule when they’re wholly self-imposed. I can create a structure to follow when I have something to answer to (for example, a job). But when I am wholly left on my own, I struggle to maintain that balance, those limits, and that structure.

I do well with picking one thing to focus on and setting up the structure for that (for example: gym and diet) – but when it comes to creating a structure for my overall life I get overwhelmed and tend to withdraw to a day of procrastinating and ignoring the schedule that I’ve tried to put in place for myself.

I am a person who does better when I know someone else has expectations of me. I have such passion and talent and drive – but I struggle with figuring out where to channel all of that without having something to work toward. And my brain works at such a speed and in such a way that instead of being able to focus in on a few options or possibilities I just see all of the options and end up in a never-ending loop of everything I could do and not knowing which to pick.

So having someone to help me wade through that, help me set in place the limits and parameters and structure to figure out how to focus that drive and passion and talent… It makes it easier for me to know how to order my day, for me to plan what to get done when, for me to accomplish things and go to bed feeling like I’ve been productive.

So, I crave someone who is willing to take on the very heavy responsibility of helping me create a structure for my life and then holding me accountable for sticking to it. 

3. I don’t always do what’s best for me, and when that happens, I need someone I can trust to point that out to me.

It’s true. I have a habit of spiraling and, when I do, sometimes I can recognize it and set myself back on track and pull myself out of the hole. But sometimes I make a bad decision. And then I make another. And before I know it I’ve set myself on the path to a cycle of self-destructive behavior.

When that happens, I need someone who can gently but firmly sit me down, talk me through it, and help me set myself back on the right track. I want Him to help me set limits, set up the rules, and, once again, help me create that structure—or alter the structure that’s already in place.

I need Him to be my voice of guidance when I can’t guide myself. I want to know that He has my back. And I want to know that he’ll put limits in place for me when I can’t do it for myself. 

4. I need someone to hold me accountable. 

I am a people pleaser. I like to please people. And, true, if my mental health struggles and therapy have taught me anything, it’s that you can’t live your life entirely focused on pleasing everyone around you. But having a set person in my life who has agreed to be in a relationship with me where He holds me accountable and gives me rules and structure and sets expectations for what he wants from and requires of me gives me a way to feed that people-pleasing need without going overboard and feeding my anxiety.

But it’s more than just feeding that people-pleasing need. It’s about being held accountable. It’s about knowing that if I say I’m going to do something or if he asks me to do something or if he sets me a task or a rule or what have you – that he’s then going to follow-up to ensure that it’s done and, if it’s not, that there are going to be consequences and those consequences are going to come from him.

It’s part of the structure that I need. And I don’t want to put this on someone who doesn’t want to provide that kind of structure or who doesn’t want to take on that responsibility – I’m looking for someone who gets a sense of fulfillment out of taking on that role. Who enjoys providing me structure, who enjoys holding me accountable, who enjoys leading me. Knowing that he enjoys it helps me feel pleasure, calm, and at peace.

I need to be held accountable. I need to know that there will be consequences for my actions. And I need to know that that accountability and those consequences will come from the person that I respect and trust most.

5. Because I want a relationship that’s a give and take.

So much of what you see on places like FetLife has to do with the Dom being responsible and taking on all the control and having to set in place all the rules, limits, and boundaries, and having to be responsible for the welfare of their sub and on and on and on…

But that’s not a real D/s relationship. At least not to me.

A real D/s relationship is about a give and take. Both (or all) parties take on responsibility. Both parties are responsible for watching out for the other, for caring for the other, for protecting and respecting and loving the other.

Both parties are agreeing to act like adults, to handle disagreements with maturity and within the parameters set-up, to respect the limits and boundaries and rules put in place. 

Your Dom takes care of you, yes. Your Dom agrees to hold you accountable. Your Dom agrees to lead you and pleasure you and take on responsibility for providing for your needs.

But you take care of your Dom as well. I am responsible for watching out for him, for making sure he’s happy, for ensuring that he’s reaching his full potential and that I’m helping him in whatever way I can. I am responsible for talking to him, for telling him what I think and how I feel and for making sure that I share my problems and worries and issues with him.

I am responsible for remembering that he can’t read my mind, asking him if he’s okay, listening when he needs to share his problems, worries, and issues with me, taking care of him, loving him, respecting him, and being the best I can be for him.

Because when he agrees to take on the responsibility of being my Dom – I, at the same time, am agreeing to take on the responsibility of being his sub. Because the responsibility of a D/s relationship doesn’t belong to just one party – it’s shared between both of us. It’s a partnership, a team, a unit. It’s a power exchange. An exchange.

Which means there’s give and take. And I want that. I want to give my partner as much as he allows me to take from him. Because that’s the only way that both of us can remain healthy and whole.

6. Serving gives me pleasure.

(This is BIG for me) Serving him gives me pleasure. Making a home not just with him but for him. Making it pretty, pleasing, and a warm and happy place to come back to every night. Making him dinner. Doing his laundry (but not the ironing!). Making sure his shirts are all hung-up in the proper place when they come home from the dry-cleaner. Bringing him his favorite drink at the end of a long day. Washing him in the shower. Worshipping his cock. Keeping our home clean. Making sure I pick up his favorite snacks at the grocery store. Making sure he remembers to grab a water before he leaves the house for the gym. Serving him in so many ways.

Doing the little things (and the big ones!) that makes his life happier and calmer and altogether just a little bit easier – that is what makes me happy. Knowing that I’m helping him and making it easier for him to go through his day makes me feel complete.

And I know a lot of people will read this and ask what he’s doing to make my life easier and happier and calmer – and the answer is this: he’s doing so much. He’s holding me accountable. He’s providing my structure. He’s giving me a healthy and safe outlet for fulfilling my needs to please people and to serve.

He loves me. He helps me make sure that I take care of myself – and takes care of me when I can’t do it. He gives me just as much as I give him. In his way, he serves me too. It’s a different kind of service than I give him. But it’s still service. Like I said, it’s a give and take.

7. Because kneeling for him brings me tremendous peace.

I suppose this could fall under service, but it’s such a distinctive act that brings such tremendous fulfillment and peace that I felt like it deserved its own number.

It really is that simple: kneeling for him brings me peace, makes me feel safe, is fulfilling, and is a privilege. Kneeling for him is calming and pleasing and a position of pride and complete and utter joy.

I love kneeling at his feet. I love kneeling in front of him. I love kneeling in the center of the room so he can watch me. I love kneeling simply because it’s where he wants me to be.

It’s like meditation and prayer and supplication all rolled into one. I enjoy taking a position of worship on my knees. I enjoy worshiping him. I enjoy bestowing that honor on him time and time again. And I feel so tremendously lucky every time he allows me the privilege of kneeling at his feet. 

It makes me feel safe, whole, and lucky to take my position at his feet. It is a physical, positional reminder of who owns me, and it gives me the time to reflect on exactly why I picked him.

8. Because I don’t want to be in charge.

It is that simple. I don’t want to be in charge. I am in charge of so much in my day-to-day life. I take on so much responsibility. I care for my friends, I care for my family, I feed the people I care about, I have tremendous responsibility at work, I am responsible for teaching new hires, I am responsible for providing advice on this blog (and yes, I am aware that is a self-imposed responsibility). And there’s more – so, so much more.

When I’m done with that, I don’t want to make decisions, make the rules, or be responsible for what happens next. I want to be told what to do, what is expected, how to please someone, and how to do it right.

I want to submit myself to someone else’s control. I want to hand myself over to him, his decisions, and his direction. I want that peace. I want that safety. And I want to end each day with that sense of fulfillment.

9. Sexually, I find far more pleasure in cumming for him than I do in cumming for myself.

Orgasms are great. I love orgasms when I am allowed to have them. I really fucking love to cum.

But cumming for myself just doesn’t give me the overwhelming sense of pleasure (emotionally, mentally, physically, sexually) as cumming for him does. When he tells me how to get there, when he tells me what to say, when he makes me beg and cry and whimper and scream and tell him all of my darkest, dirtiest, most depraved fantasies while I try my hardest not to cum without permission…

When he makes me wait for it, it makes me edge over and over and over, making me hold off… When he finally tells me to cum. When he finally gives me permission. When he finally tells me to let go… It’s unlike any other feeling. Because I know I have earned that orgasm. Because I know he’s allowing me to have that orgasm because I’ve pleased him so much that I’ve earned the gift of it. 

Orgasms are great. They really, really are. But orgasms are even greater when they’re a gift from him.

10. Because I love being told no.

I do. I love the reminder of who is in charge—or who I have trusted with my welfare, care, pleasure, and safety. I love knowing he’s paying attention to me and watching what I do.

I love knowing that he’s making sure I’m staying within the lines – because it reminds me every single time of how committed he is to me and to our dynamic and to the promises that we’ve made to each other. 

And I love knowing that he’s in charge. And that he knows he’s in charge. And that he wants to remind me he’s in charge. Because it makes me feel safe, and, tbh, it makes me pretty damn wet.

Your Thoughts??

Although I wouldn’t say I liked her politics and for her, politics were everything. Anne Rice, the author of The Claiming Sleeping Beauty series of erotic books and apparently some other books (smiles), always started her posts with “Dear People of the Page.”

That has always stuck with me, and when I write a post, I always want to start with that!

Greetings, People of the Page,

In the comments of a couple of my earlier posts, there were some discussions of the legalities of nudity or just public exhibition.

So, I might jump ahead here on my story of “Finding Me” and talk about that.

I get asked about being a full-time, 100% 24/7 slave. Why does my long-term relationship with my Master work when others crash and burn?

Finding that answer took me a while, but my gift to Him as our first-year anniversary present answered that question.

Like so many others, I have had multiple master/slave relationships. Obviously, they all had failed until I met Him.

In that first year, He had proven His word is His bond. He was very open about what he expected from me and what I should expect from Him. He was very clear about why I was there: to be His Obedient Slave. Period. Not his wife, not his lover, but his slave.

Never once did I question his motive, his commands (almost), or His love for me as a slave. He knew his role was to train, use, love, and protect me as his property.

This was so new to me that I never realized its impact until one day, just before our first anniversary, we were out having Sunday breakfast with this friend who came into town to visit.

They had been friends since high school. They have kept in touch and would meet every couple of years. The friend knew my Master’s fetish of having a beautiful, obedient woman at his side.

Like almost all of His friends, the man never batted an eye when He saw that I was not the usual beauty queen my Master would normally be seen with. And through the conversations, he would talk directly to Master, ignoring me unless I was asked a question directly.

However, Master once went to use the restroom, and the friend smiled at me, gave me a little background on their friendship, and then told me that when he first saw me, he was shocked. He told me I was not what he was expecting.

Yes, I know, I am told that often. he dates and fucks beautiful women and usually would never look at a female like me. I get it!

But before I could respond, He told me that in the first couple of minutes of the meeting, he knew why I was his slave. “Your Master puts obedience and loyalty before anything else. You are what he needs.”

Later, we were walking out to the parking garage across the street. It was a public parking garage adjacent to a nearly empty city park.

As we got close to the garage, his friend mentioned his admiration for what looked like a nice set of boobs on his slave. Master turned to me and told me to unbutton what was left on my blouse and show him my saggy boobs.

Being out in public, near a park, I hesitated a few seconds before doing as commanded. But I was too slow as Master slapped my face, asking why I hesitated. I told him I was afraid other people would see me/them.

Holding my blouse open, I started to cry as I apologized to both men for not doing as I was told. Master told me to button my top back up. His friend smiled, told me they were worth the wait, and kissed me on my cheek. He gave Master a handshake and left.

Master has always said that punishments would be fast and immediate. He walked me into the parking garage and took us to our car. He bent me over the car’s hood, lifted my dress, and I heard him remove his belt. He started to spank my ass with it, reminding me that He was the boss.

After he was done, He fixed His pants, stood up, and turned me to face him. He questioned me.

Do you trust me?
Yes, Master.
Do you know what your job is?
Yes, Master. To obey.

Then, he put it from a different perspective. One I had not thought of before.

It’s my job as your master to keep you safe from harm. From everything I have taught you, do you believe I would put you in a position to get arrested?

“Well, no, Master, but…”

“It’s my job to protect you, and your job is to obey me. I would never ask you to do something like that if I was not sure you were safe. That’s my job, and I need you to trust that I know it’s safe; you are safe. To obey, leave everything else to me.”

We talked about it on the drive home: the ability to trust. Master made a point about most relationships today, not just M/S; it’s one I talk about most.

When we enter a relationship, we are hot and bothered, and everything is wonderful and going amazing. You think you are giving it 100%. But in reality, we are not. We always have one eye looking for the exit in case it goes bad.

We plan for it to fail so we won’t be as badly hurt when it does. But that prevents us from building the trust that we need.

He wanted me to stop looking for that exit. He wanted to own me. I loved it when he told me that. He wanted to be the owner and for me to be the property.

He wanted me to trust him with my life. This is not easy, especially after all I had been through with bad dates, evil masters, and failed communications. Breaking that final wall would take a lot of effort on my part.

But over time, I did it, and I loved it when it happened.

So, yes, when Master tells me to open my top or be topless somewhere, I know he knows it is safe for me to do that. It may be a bit risky or an adrenalin rush, but his assurance that I am safe is enough for me to do as he commands.

The few times we almost got caught were scary yet thrilling, but he has always kept me from harm.

His job is to keep me safe.

My only job is to obey.

I am loved, and I am protected.

So, my new Master has laid down the law and has committed to being the firm hand that I need. Guess what? I was not even home for a week and got my first punishment.

My Apologies

Recently, I made a political note here on Substack about thanking Americans for saving America based on who won the election. Master was not amused.

When He told me He saw the note, I smiled, thinking he would be proud of me.  He wasn’t. He was furious.  To him, it was “Unbecoming a proper slave. ” Why would a slave think her opinion on world events is appropriate? And to post it without consulting her Master?” 

He was right.  A proper slave would keep such thoughts to herself so as not to upset those who read or support her. She is a thing, not a person. Her thoughts on such matters should not matter unless her Master wants them to matter.

It would not have mattered if I felt I deserved a punishment or not. He thought I did, so I was going to be punished.

The Punishment

Master sent me up to the master bedroom to stand in a corner and wait for him.   I was already crying as he gave me his command. I hate myself when I disappoint my Master. 

I heard Him come upstairs a few minutes later. He ordered me to stand next to the bed, legs apart, bent over with my boobs smashed against the comforter, hands out in front of me.

“Why am I punishing you?”  he asked me. Through tears, I explained that I had disappointed my master and did not seek his permission for an inappropriate note/post.

“Will you ever do it again?” As I prepared for the punishment, “No Master” Master told me to expect ten, count them, and thank Master for correcting me after each one.

I found out that my new master gives no warm-ups.  The first wack from the wooden paddle was full force and stung like my ass was already on fire.  “One, thank you, Master.”  By the third wack, I danced around, trying to deal with the pain and avoid the next strike. Begging for time to let it cool off. I was told to stop moving. 

After the tenth one, I collapsed on the floor and wrapped my hands around His feet, my tears wetting them as I kissed and begged for his forgiveness. 

Still on my knees, Master grabbed me by my hair, unzipped His pants, and shoved His hard cock down my throat. He said he had not expected to get this way by punishing me. He ordered me to keep my hands behind my back.

Like His punishment, His fucking my face was not gentle. He was pulling me off His cock, then back in my mouth until my nose hit his pelvic bone, then back again. His cock fits nicely in my mouth, and it almost hits the back of my mouth when He is rough like this.

He was relentless, giving me only a moment to try and catch a breath before He pulled my head into His body. I know I was slobbering. But I didn’t care. I deserved it and found satisfaction in knowing he was using me like this for his relief. Remembering sucking his cock was mandatory; breathing was optional.

His brutal face fuck was not even close to the pain I was feeling as I was kneeling with my tortured ass sitting on the tops of my heels. Reminding me with each thrust that I was spanked hard.

Thankfully, I started to feel him building up quickly, about to shoot His load. He pulled out and looked at me as I watched His cock bounce and shoot His beautiful cum onto my body. He was smiling as He let out a groan as the streams fell on my big saggy boobs. Stream by stream, what I hoped to be swallowing was being wasted all because I was a bad slave.

He shoved His cock back into my mouth and Held me there until it went soft. At least I was allowed to taste the last remaining drops off the tip of His cock.

The fact that he was so upset that He did this; He spilled his warm seed on my boobs, not in my mouth. I started to cry again. I was begging for his forgiveness and promising never to disappoint him again.

In his very deep and firm voice, he ordered me to stand up. I did. He looked me in the eyes and told me he forgave me. He opened the drawer by the bed and grabbed some lotion, telling me to bend over. The coolness of the cream felt nice, and his firm hands rubbing it in were a pleasant sensation.

He made sure to get some lotion into my ass crack, slipping a finger in, then moving down to my pussy and finding it soaking wet. I could hear him softly giggle when his fingers felt my wet pussy. “Bitch is still horny.” I smiled. “Yes, Master.”

When he was finished with the lotion, my ass wasn’t as hot as it was before. He kissed me and told me I was not allowed to wipe the cum off my boobs until bedtime. Then he sent me down to start His dinner.

I went away smiling. Still with a sore ass, but I knew….

I am still a loved slave!

 I learned my lesson to think before I hit Post.

I just needed to sit down and let you all know that things here are slowly finding their new normal. And it’s wonderful.

We came back from Chicago, where we had a second celebration of life for my Owner. Many of his old friends and even some distant family people I knew of but never got to meet were there. It was sad but yet a very positive experience.

The only downside was that I needed to permanently distance myself from his immediate family. Thankfully, my Brother was at my side to protect me from their venom. They were seriously offensive and disturbing, even at the celebration of Life of their own son/brother. They feel I am not allowing them to properly “grieve” and apparently feel they are entitled to something from His estate (there wasn’t much there, to begin with!)

Yes, for now and in the near future, I have decided to let my brother step in and be in charge of my leash. I obey Him as I did my Owner. He has full use of me in any way He wants me to serve Him. It wasn’t a decision I made quickly or easily. We clashed, we discussed, and we negotiated a ninety-day master-slave contract; I promise to write about that soon.

I am back to work full-time, and it’s feeling good. I still look for his texts every couple of hours at work, and there are days I want to walk into the house and kneel at his feet, expecting him to be there. I realize that must be a difficult position for my brother. I am trying not to expect Him to be my Owner.

Its funny how certain routines can change your mood. I often feel sad and discouraged as I walk into the office. Giving my Boss His morning coffee and blowjob gives me purpose and focus. It sounds strange, but it is like an energy drink. Maybe it is!

Miss Amy has moved back to Reno, but whenever she is in Vegas, she knows she is welcome here. She still has a house key, and I will serve her if she desires.

My Owner’s Boss still stops in, and we talk. My Brother has agreed to do project work for Him when needed. His son still is my/our pool cleaner and gets a blowjob every time he cleans the pool.

I’m home. I am feeling better each day. I know He will always be in my prayers and in my thoughts. But I also know He woudl not want me to dwell on His passing too long. He always wanted me to live my life to the fullest and to keep on my submissive journey.

Thank you all for being there for me.

More to come

Original Question: Can You R*pe Me?

Updated From My Original Blog: October 10, 2016

In this modern era where, it seems you must ask permission each and every time you look at a woman, or you will be labeled as a sexist pervert for the rest of your life. I get asked this question; Can a man using me for sex, with only my Master’s permission, rape me?

As a slave, I am property.  I do as my Owner tells me to do. I do not question it. If he says, “Take Joe back to the guest bedroom and let him fuck you in the ass.” that’s what I do.

It gets into a gray area when someone comes over and they are told they can use me for blowjobs any time they want, but nothing more. They are free to order me to suck their cock, and I will do it without any hesitation. Did I ever mention I love sucking cocks?

My Master owns me. I already gave Him my consent to Own me and use me like His property.  So if Master-Sir said you can use me for sex, you tell me to get naked even if I don’t want to, and you rip my clothes off and fuck me, is it rape?  Yes and no.  

Master-Sir permitted you to use His slave; I am His slave and will obey.  So Fuck Me if you have His permission, you don’t have to ask me.  And that’s where the road divides.

Master-Sir permits you to use me, but sometimes He limits your use of me if you are new or for whatever reason.  Master-Sir may only allow you to use me for blowjobs, or anal sex, nothing more.  

He will also tell me those limits; if you violate them, you will never be allowed to use me again for anything!!  So, our friends tend to stay within whatever limits Master-Sir offers them.

So what happens if someone new has permission for “oral only” use of me and goes beyond that limit?  Yet while I am naked and alone with Him, He decided to force me over and fuck me?  In the argument, this man had a point. It would be outside the limits allowed so that it would be a violation of trust and consent.  It would be rape. Yes, I would fight it and try to prevent Him from fucking me, but I would probably, at some point in the end, surrender and allow it.  

It would be my slave nature to allow the violation after an attempt to stop it and get away because my Owner did allow Him to use me so there was a trust there between my Owner and the man.

After all these years of being His slave; i think it would be in my slave nature to allow the violation after an attempt to stop it and get away because my Owner did allow Him to use me so there was a trust there between my Owner and the man.  A strange explanation to why I would let it happen if I realized I could not stop it.  But then again, I have never been put in that position, so I am not sure exactly what I would do.

Master-Sir has good taste in friends and has the ability to call BS when He feels this is not right. There have been men in our lives who do not have any access to me for sexual services because Master-Sir does not trust them enough or has an uneasy feeling about giving them that much power.

However, I will stand by my original answer:  If Master-Sir permitted you to use me for sexual pleasures, no matter what He allowed you to use me for and I did not want to do them, I would still give you the best service a slave could because I am not there to please you as much as I am there to please my Owner.  My desires are not of your concern.    I would serve you as you directed and make sure you were pleased and happy with my service.  It would not be rape because you had His permission. My permission is not needed.

Does this answer make sense??

Some of you may be wondering why I will continue this journal. Nights like the last night we were together keep me going. The memories and stories are worth reliving and spreading the love he had for me to others.

I came home from work, and it was nothing unusual. I entered through the garage door and walked to his office. Stood at the doorway and waited for his approval.

He looked up and smiled, snapped his fingers, and pointed to the dog bed beside his desk. I immediately stripped out of my clothes, neatly folded them, and put them on the end table.

He has one of those desks with no sides, just a frame. I crawled across the floor, wrapped my hands around his left foot, and kissed it, then the right foot. Before I moved onto the pad, I told him I loved him and was glad to be home, where I belonged.

Kneeling with my hands behind my back, chest out. He looked at me, bent down, and kissed me fully on the lips with a little tongue action. Not something he does every day!

“You need to go and get cleaned up and ready for tonight. After you shower and shave, I laid some clothes out for you to wear tonight.”

I was a little taken aback. He had not mentioned anything special for us tonight or for me to be used by anyone. “Master-Sir?” was all I had to say.

He told me not to worry. “I’m just saying we have dinner reservations and show tickets for a new show on the strip. A disco-themed throwback show just opened, and I wanted to see it. Now Go!”

I went to shower, shaved my pussy, and put on a little perfume. After I prepared myself, I returned to kneel before him. Again, back straight, kneeling tall. My hands are behind my back, chest out. My saggy boobs even responded with hard nipples. My knees were shoulder-width apart. Master-Sir smiled as he bent down. A finger into my pussy started to get me wet. Then a soft pat around my pussy, to my ass. He was makign sure I was shaved smooth. “Go” was all he said as I turned to head for my bedroom upstairs.

On my bed was a short red sequined dress, a red bra, and matching panties. No butt plug,. No insertable toys. This was a real date, date!

Our go-to dinner place on the Strip, the Peppermill, awaited us. When we walked out to the car, he held my hand, opened the doors, and had me walk alongside him like a real date. I love it when we do these dates.

I still addressed him as Sir and asked permission to leave the table or whatever I needed to do as normal, just a little more relaxed in formality and purpose.

The meal was wonderful, and the show was okay. He held my hand often and toasted our recent good news about his health and job.

Did I mention we kissed a lot? At dinner, I sat next to him, not across from him. he liked to pull me close and kiss me, small and occasionally big kisses. At the show, the same thing happened. During breaks, He leaned over to say that he loved having me in his life. That I was the best slave a man could have.

Now, a lot of this is pretty normal on our occasional dates, which are few and far between. I prefer that he goes out on romantic dates with his girlfriend. She is a prettier arm-charm than I am.

It’s not that he is always cold, firm, and demanding. He does show his love and affection towards me in many ways. A date night is meant for us to be real people, real lovers, and talk like normal couples do. Since I know how this ends, I may remember the intimate parts in too much detail.

At Home

On date nights, I have problems coming home. He likes to undress me as we enter the house. And he does it slowly as I want to undress for him and then undress Him. But he slaps my hands away and makes me stand there and “enjoy” it. I may fight it a little, but in my heart, I love the attention He gives me doing this.

He has me sit at the kitchen bar on a chair with him. He holds me in his hands and smiles, looking into my eyes and making me blush, fighting my natural desire to be kneeling on the floor at his side. We share a cocktail. Date nights are the only time I am allowed to drink alcohol.

Another kiss and a tweak of my nipples. A finger dipped into my pussy to see if I was wet; of course I was. I lick my juices from his finger. We kiss.

Here is where He takes off his clothes. He is already hard, and he takes my hand and puts it on his cock. I want to kneel and suck it, but he tells me, “NO.” I pout. He pulls on my nipples again to get my attention back on “us.”

He tells me to walk with him to the bedroom. Normally, as his slave, I would crawl on all fours behind him.

He makes me lay on the bed on my back. He gets on top of me, a leg on each side as he kisses me as I want to get His cock in my pussy, but can’t. A kiss and a bite to each nipple as he looks up at me. I think I am smiling or maybe trying not to let him know I am enjoying the tease.

He sits up and smiles down at me. His hard cock waving in front of me, teasing me. He leans forward, grabbing the headboard so I can at least lick and suck his balls, begging to have the real thing instead.

He pulls back. Moving down my body, pulling on my nipples as he moves between my legs. A finger rubbing on my clit, makign me moan. He tells me to open my pussy as he leans back on his heels to stare at my fingers holding open my gaping pussy that I am sure is flooding the sheets by now! He is still teasing my clit.

“Give me an orgasm,” He tells me. I can’t. I rub, pull; I get close; I can feel it, but I don’t feel the need after six months without one. He laughs. “Well trained.” I guess that was supposed to be a compliment.

He spreads my legs further. I’m not too fond of it when this happens. I am so self-conscious of how this must look compared to Miss Amy’s and others’ beauty. Yet, he likes to look at me spread out like this.

We battle words as He rolls onto the bed and tells me to ride him. I always argue I am too heavy to be on top. He tells me otherwise. He has to become the Master again and command me to get on top and slowly glide His cock into my sloppy pussy. I begin to ride it up and down as he slows me down and lets me enjoy the feeling. No rush to make him cum.

He likes to pull my nipples until my boobs are hanging over him, and he can bite the nipples. He is getting me to moan loudly as I start to move up and down faster. Of course, the moving up means he is pulling on my nipples with his teeth.

I now want to pull up, but I can’t without the fear of ripping off my nipples. He bites down hard, making sure my nipple is not leaving his mouth, no matter how hard I pull up. Did I mention I love the pain?

Finally, he lets go of my nipple; I sit up straight and feel the entire length of his majestic cock. Hitting all the right places and filling me up.

His hands are on my breasts. He is groping them but not holding them, letting me begin to ride his cock. It’s a rare treat when I can do this and be allowed to enjoy every minute of it.

No Orgasm

If there was a way to explain how much I enjoy being used for sex when I am not fighting an orgasm or even wanting to have one. It’s just pure sex and energy pleasing Him. Feeling His cock grow and build up. Knowing it’s all because of me that He is like this. I am pleasing Him 100% and enjoying every minute of it.

It makes no sense NOT to want an orgasm, but I now know it’s worth the work. I love how much better his cock feels inside me when I am not working to have a moment of pleasure for myself.

Finally, He grabs a handful of my hair and pulls me off, shoving me back and pulling my mouth over His cock. Holding my head firmly, His hard cock covered with my juices is down my throat. My nose is against his pubic bone as I feel the building of his orgasm. “God, I love you like this,” were his words as I felt his cum, my reward, shoot out, filling my mouth.

“Swallowing is mandatory; breathing is optional,” he always told me. I gagged a little as I tried to swallow it all. That little blue pill helped keep him up and has helped produce more of my reward than I expected!

Finally, the last shots of his juices, and I sucked and licked his cock clean as it went soft. He pulled me off His cock and into His arms. Kissing me. He hugged me as we turned to spoon. His one hand on one of my boobs always makes me feel safe in his arms.

We fell asleep. Sometime later, He passed on. I feel good knowing that he did, smiling. He did not suffer and left me with a beautiful memory I will hold onto for the rest of my life.

Thank you for being here for me.

Love

Crystal

As I start to adjust to my new life, I really need to say that I love each and every one of you. The outpouring of condolences, friendship, and special requests has been heartwarming, to say the least.

You all put a special smile on my face as I read them. I have tried to respond to most of them and will get to all of them soon, I promise!

He was a special man who made my deepest, darkest fantasies a reality. It took me to places I had only dreamed of or masturbated to (smile).

Many wonderful people have reached out to me in my journey, telling me how I changed their lives, improved their relationships, or made them reach their dreams.

There will be a Celebration of Life here in Las Vegas next weekend for all his Vegas friends and business associates. Then, I will take his ashes back to Chicago for his family and friends to celebrate this man’s extraordinary life.

As a few of you have asked, What’s Next? I had to think about that for a while.

This man took me on a journey many of you have said you wanted to continue living through and learning from. I feel what He gave me and the blessings I have received as His slave should not end with his life but should continue to be celebrated.

Besides, I have already started to tell the story of our relationship; there are many more chapters I had planned to write.

So, this is not the end that I know of. But I may disappear for a while as I work through the new life. I will continue to live a submissive life in one form or another.

Please do not worry; my leash is in good hands, and I am safe and loved.

Thank You, again, for all the love you have passed my way.

Please do not forget about me.

We shall continue!

Love,
Crystal
Bitch Slave