Master-Sir is my Owner, my lover, my husband as well as my protector. He is my life!
For those who read my posts and my comments, who also send me mailings questioning why I would ever stay in such an “abusive” relationship that obviously does not include love (their words, not mine), I have my response to you: Get Real!
Please, think for a second about FetLife or any other adult social media site, why are you there or even here? You read it because it interests you. You are like me and the millions of others who would not be here if it were all sweet lollypops and sugar plumbs, would you??
Hell No.
So I leave a lot of beautiful things out.
My Master-Sir often loans me out to others for domestic service, companionship, and sex. Gangbangs, cum dumps, role-playing scenes, or just because someone did him a nice favor and Master-Sir wants to reward them using me as His gift.
We Communicate often and with various means. Mostly in person or by text. When we met, I knew this was the life I would live if I wanted Him in my life. I knew what it would be like. Well, maybe not THIS good, but I knew it would not always be what I liked. But it was what I wanted. It’s my choice.
Master-Sir has a vanilla girlfriend. Yes, a sexy thing that looks good on His arm and makes Him smile. she spends a lot of time here with him. While she is here, i am caged up, sent away, or at their feet serving as their handmaid. It’s her choice on how I am used or not used.
When she or another woman is here for the night, I sleep on the floor or, most often, locked in my bedroom. Bound tight and trying to sleep while trying to ignore her moans and groan of pleasure and ecstasy. He knows I will do anything to be allowed to be in the room. I will often be used as clean up after they have sex I will suck and lick His cock clean of their juices, then I will lick His cum out of her pussy while bringing her to several orgasms. Then they send me away agin..
What You Don’t Often Read About
For every night I talk about sleeping on the cold hard floor while he sleeps in his soft, warm bed alone, there are four nights I am curled up in His bed, in his arms, and happy. He is playing with my butt plug, pulling on my nipples, whispering sweet thoughts into my ear. Asking me if I know I am beautiful?
What? A fluffy girl with body issues being told she is beautiful by a man who can capture any woman in the room? Really Sir? Yes!
For almost every night that He sends me away to be someone’s domestic whore, cum dump, or date, there is probably a warm bubble bath and candle lights waiting for me at home. or at least a fresh-colored rose on my sleeping rug.
For every 3 times, he has harshly throat fucked his slave, made me gag on his magnificent cock and choke trying to drink his cum without spilling a precious drop, then slapped the daylights out of me before sending me to stand in the corner while he watches a movie, ignoring me the rest of the night:. There are moments when he orders me to lie down in front of him and spread my legs wide. He will then get down on the floor, and order me to hold my legs wide open while he fucks his obedient slave girl’s soft, smooth, and wet pussy until she is screaming in agony, Begging for an orgasm He may decide to grant. Or not.
Afterward, he will grab the blanket off the couch, curl up and hold me until I stop all my shaking and we will watch the rest of the movie together in complete silence, locked in his wonderfully strong arms.
For every 5 times, I am the naked maid to a bunch of his friends, serving drinks, cleaning up spelled messes, and sucking cocks in the kitchen while the pizza cooks during a big game or fight: There is the one night he orders me to dress up pretty. Nice bra, No butt plug, no nipple clamps, and I get to be his arm charm for a night out. To a nice dinner and a movie or to a show. Then home for some incredible Master/slave sex.
For all the times he uses me, abuses me, gives me to others without telling me what for; For all the times i am his payment for something, his reward or gift or just something there to be used… There is an equal number of times he will allow me to sit next to him on the couch or chair, and we will talk. Talk about life, dreams, goals and plans.
Not to mention those times I will be heavy into a project, service or thought, and he will break me out of that by grabbing me by my ponytail, pulling my head back in near whiplash style, locking his tasty lips to mine, and giving me the most passionate, weak in the knees, loving kiss ever, breaking the kiss and walking away smiling, ordering me to get back to work. (yea, as if I could after that stunt).
For every text telling me I can or can not use the bathroom, eat a snack or have a drink… There is the simple text message telling me, “I luv my Bitch Slave”
To many, it may seem like a strange way to show a girl you love them. But then, I never was your ordinary girl. I’m his loving Bitch-Slave, and He is my Master-Sir!
Any Questions??