Living a Consensual Non-Consent Lifestyle (CNC)

Tag: slave sister

Super Bowl Memories

Almost six weeks without an orgasm is killing me, I swear. I made it six months one time, but it was pretty straightforward, No teasing, no orgasms.

Now, with Master-Sir’s girlfriend, there is added verbal humiliation. She likes to remind me she gets to fuck my Owner and have wonderful multiple orgasms. She really likes to taunt me as I am licking Master’s cum from her beautiful pussy.

As I am licking her to several orgasms, she will taunt me, reminding me that I am not allowed to have not even one.

My Memories

Super Bowl Sunday is always a challenging time for me for several reasons. I will be used to serve drinks, and prepare food and snacks. Plus I am to be available to be used openly and often by anyone in the house who needs a cum dump. After it is all done, I am to be sure the house is clean as it can be. Then I am allowed to relax at my Owner’s feet.

Super Bowl Sunday also brings with it some painful memories. My mind starts to go back to when Master-Sir and I first got together in Phoenix. His best friend was a very dominant man who had the ultimate obedient slave.

She and I became more than friends, she was the only one I ever connected with as if she was my sister. We were slave sisters to the core and I loved it, I loved her. He has since passed away and she committed suicide shortly after because she could not live without Him.

Anyway, Super Bowl Sunday meant two slaves serving two wonderful Masters. They always said it was their favorite part of having slaves on Super Bowl Sunday. was how they kept score. They used our asses for the scoreboard.

The Game

Master chose team A and her Master took team B. When one team scored, both slaves would get in front of the TV, hands above their heads and legs spread. If Master’s team scored, He would take a wooden paddle and spank her ass to the point. And vice-versa.

The count started at zero each time. So if they scored a touchdown, the slave got spanked 6 times., Make the extra point? Another six spankings plus one (13).

Next touchdown she got spanked seven times (previous score), then another six for this second touchdown (13). Make the extra point? 13 more plus one. It was painful but it made the Master happy and that’s all that matters. Score a field goal? 14 plus 3. etc…

After the game, her Master would fuck me silly, allowing me several orgasms. My Master would do the same to His slave. His cock was fat and it really hurt. No matter how much lube, He was still rough. And I still had some powerful orgasms from it.

A couple of times after we moved and they went away, Master-Sir tried it with just me and that was not the same. We also tried it with another slave and she could not handle the pain. Plus the chemistry wasn’t there. I needed her beside me. She teased me and I teased her.

I still love being the game slave and being used by all the men during the game, but I really miss having her there beside me.

I hope she is at peace and will be smiling down on me tomorrow.

Facing my Stalker Again

If you are wondering, maybe you are not, but I have been absent from life for awhile now. Popping on the forums occasionally to say “hello” but not much else. My Owner, thankfully, has had me on a very short leash, literally, lately. Because He knows I needed to be on a even shorter leash.

Last week, we went to Utah to face my stalker and to say a few words to the court about my ordeal, in hopes it helps the case against Him for doing other sick and demented thigs to another woman who He was being charged with stalking and worse.

Earlier this year, Master-Sir had me stop my journal and almost erased me from the Internet because a man had been stalking me based on what I wrote here and on Fetlife. Making my life a true living Hell.

In Nevada, the laws are not as strict as they are in Utah and when the man was finally arrested, he was stalking another women there and getting violently physical with her. He was never physical with me. The worst for me was when he appeared at my place of employment and tried to force his ay past security at the front desk. Las Vegas resort security don’t play those games!

He moved on to Utah for fresh victims. They think he was stalking three to five other women. This one fought back and finally got him arrested. His trial(s) are happening now and I was asked to testify to his behavior.

The Drive

Master-Sir literally had the collar and leash on me the entire drive. He drove. He put a large butt plug in me for the ride so my mind was always on that and not on what i was about to do. He would stop at rest areas or truck pullovers and lead me to a grassy area to have me pee there like the other dogs (bitches). Not in the public rest area bathrooms.

On the longer, boring stretches, I was kept occupied by listening to the radio while I had His cock in my mouth. Not sucking or licking, but just there to hold it. In case He needed to use my mouth for anything or not. He just told me to stay there with Him in it. It did help keep my mind occupied. Thinking about all the other times I was being used while driving or on other trips where my mouth was used for various uses. Mostly blowjobs for truckers or His urinal so we didn’t have to stop very often.

I thought about my late slave sister and all things her Owner used her mouth for and thought how lucky I was that my Owner was as creative, just not as sadistic as hers was!

He would ask me if I felt the butt plug and to answer I had to reach under me0 and feel it, causing me to moan. He would make a little noise, like a little laugh. Knowing I was not liking it but enjoyed the feel at the same time. Finally before our final stop, His cock started to grow and I was allowed to suck His cock as it got larger and to enjoy my reward as He filled my mouth with His juices. Not knowing as I was enjoying sucking His cock, He had stopped at a pullover to really enjoy my services.

Once I had cleaned Him up, He told me to get dressed. That’s when I realized we had stopped. My clothes were in the backseat and He made me get out of the car to get dressed. That’s when I realized others were pulled over as well. The honking of the truck horns gave me a smile and I waved as I quickly got back into the car.

That Night

At the hotel, I was allowed to stay dressed as the State team of people prosecuting my stalker came to our suite to go over what may happen in the morning. Apparently the judge has been differing on who and what can be said or admitted for evidence. So they were not sure what I would be doing. May be addressing the court or maybe even sworn in and cross examined.

The fact that they had Him on several charges, there was a good possibility that he would be serving many years in jail. If it went right, he would be facing life plus a few decades.

Master-Sir never let me go too far from His side the entire trip. During the talks, He was next to me, holding my hand or hugging me. Assuring me i was doing the right thing. They already had one witness backed out. I assured them I wasn’t going to do that. I needed to get my life back.

That night, Master-Sir held me the entire night in bed. Never using me, just holding me and talking to me. I wasn’t giving much back, I know that and yet, He still held me and never made me do anything. I needed that. I needed to know I was Owned and that He was there to care for me. He was.

Breakfast was room service and Master-Sir hand-fed me as He talked to me. Even telling me what to wear. I had brought one outfit and so I knew what I was going to wear. But to hear my owner tell me what He expected me to wear, just felt right. I needed that control.

I needed that assurance He was in charge. Being a slave who had no human privilege’s like eating at a table or drinking from a glass, kept me from going crazy. I was kept in my slave mind. My Owner kept me focused. Even getting into the car, I was reminded, top-down, ass bare to the seat. Thank You Master-Sir.

Arriving at the courthouse, it all seemed so much better. My mood was happier, I was not worried, scared, or too overly nervous. They had me in a room with a video camera. I could see the courtroom, but I wasn’t in the same room as He was. I was on camera, facing the judge. On the monitors, I could see his attorney. No jury.

Reliving the Nightmare

I have read how sometimes these things can be a train wreck. The person having to relive the events as two opposing parties ask questions of personal nature will sometimes breakdown and become unstable. Ruining her testimony. Thankfully my experiences with this creature were all verbal or written threats. Never physical. More emotional and psychological. So as they questioned me, as I walked down that road, it all comes out in the real world. To say it out loud, to see this creature react to my words, my not so emotional body language. It was all so cathartic.

As the words came out, as I relived those scary moments and terrifying mind games he was playing, i felt this enormous weight going away with each event I described in detail. I never cried. I had tears, but nothing that would show weakness. Master-Sir was close to me and I could see His smile from the corner of my eye.

Seeing him in that chair, in his rented suit. His half-smile, that evil smile, as they went over what he did to me or what he did to find me, hunt me down and to come to my place of employment. He was reliving them as i was.

I thought about the fact that he will have those memories of stalking me, those words he wrote of what he wanted to do to me if we were to be together. All those things that he never got to act out in those words. They were only words, and fantasy never fulfilled. They will remain fantasies, nothing more for the rest of his life. his life has essentially ended while my slave life keeps getting better.

During part of the questioning, they brought up some things from other cases pending against him and the judge shut them down quickly. But it gave me an insight to what all was happening and I knew I was doing the right thing, that this was helping keep this predator off the streets.

The End?

Once I was told I was finished, the camera and the monitors went blank. I collapsed into my Owner’s arms and then knelt at His side as He hugged me. it was such a natural response. Me being at His feet made me feel safe and to feel happy. The court people in the room with us, all congratulated me on my testimony and thanked me for being brave and for coming through for them and for “her” the lady who started this all.

As we drove away from the courthouse, Master-Sir asked how I felt? I felt like i didn’t do enough. I could have went deeper into my responses. I was doing as I was told. To just answer the questions as they were asked. Do not add anything to the answers not in the questions. But I wanted to say more. Master-Sir assured me I did enough and that “This” was no over.

Somewhere between the courthouse and the restaurant, Master-Sir took me for lunch, I got a butt plug back in my ass. I don’t remember stopping for that or even being told to wear one. But I sure felt it when I sat down!

Someone from the State, a lady who works with domestic abuse, I think, joined us for lunch. Going over everything that happened so far. Letting me know that what I did helped.

The funny thing was that as we sat in that restaurant eating and talking, I was not thinking about the trial, the testimony, or anything else about why we were there. I was thinking how nice this lady was and how she seemed to give off a little submissive vibe as she would politely stop to listen to my owner’s response. or how she let Him decide the meal she was wanting to order. I was looking at her and imagining her naked, kneeling beside me, as we served my Owner!

My Friend, The Friend, I’m Ok

Yes, I lost my first and most dearest slave sister. She was an important person in my life and my journey would never have been this far or this deep had I not met her or her owner. No matter the circumstances, no matter the pain, He owned her and she loved being Owned by Him. I guess that is how some may see my life. Too much for them, But it is my Life! I will respect yours if you respect mine.

Read: my first slave sister is gone

I am one of those people who believe all people come into your world for a special reason and they leave your life when they have served their purpose. We may not know what that purpose was, but they served it and they move on. She has moved on at a time one someone else has entered it and they seem to need me to guide them into their new journey. Hmmm… Timing?

Thankfully Master-Sir knows me as well as He does and knows that I needed to wash my emotions, live the emotions, and then I needed to move on. To do so, I want to be used hard. Not just serve, or to be whipped hard or even fucked until I scream. I need to fall deeply into a project, a need, a service. Just as I needed to be used hard after our little night out and my issues involving that scenario.

In all the attention my Owner was showing me, while His girlfriend was here, I thought it would be a problem for her. The Pretty Brunette was offering to sacrifice her limited time here with My Owner, so that He could step back and deal with His slave. So that i could have our time to reconnect. I was being needy, to be used by Him, have sex, then get Him back to His wonderful life with her. I am in a desperate need to ask for her forgiveness, for stealing time from her, from Him and I know that would happily suffer any punishment she decides I needed for my being so needy.

Read: Master, slave talk, Have Sex

Then we get the information about my slave sister committing suicide and the emotional fallout from that. The fallout, my following cry-fest was short and I was allowed to stay in my bedroom for almost the entire day to let it all out of my system. Joined occasionally by my Owner and his other friend from Phoenix who now lives here. To me, I went too long and needed to get out and to get into some heavy service. I needed to be used.

So with all that playing in my head, it was followed by the news that my job is being changed to part-time for the remainder of the summer. Instead of laying off a large chunk of the office staff, they are offering a few “essential” workers to rotate and have more time off. I will work Monday to Wednesday only. Master-Sir tried not to smile too much when He saw that notice. Knowing that right now I needed to be used heavily and not be allowed for my mind to wander like it would if I was at work 5 days a week.

Hi smile came from the fact that with Him and The Pretty Brunette were working their respective jobs from our home and they could really use a full-time slave most days to run errands, serve them drinks and snacks and keep them occupied when needing a break..

Her Friend

The Pretty Brunette has a sexy and beautiful friend visiting here from San Diego and as I shared earlier, she is enjoying watching me be a slave. In her dreams, she wants to be “me” in the worst ways possible. yet she has fears because of how deep I am going, fears about her job, and her executive life in San Diego if she were to come clean with what she wants to others..

The friend, only had planned ot stay here a few days, say hello to The Pretty Brunette and see this man she apparently keeps talking about at the office. The plan was for he to leave here on Wednesday or Thursday, then drive east to visit family. Hopeing to enjoy the summer some place cooler.

When she learned of me, feeding her pent up dreams, and all the drama that was now my life, she decided to stay a little longer and “help out.” Maybe investigate this hidden fantasy she had and enjoy more of the romantic time she had that first night with The Pretty Brunette. I had not known, but Master-Sir and I had suspected that when we found them asleep, naked in each other’s arms, there may be more to that story.

The Friend has found reasons to stay behind when the other two go out for work errands or just to go for coffee and get away from the “office” and she spends that time with me. Kneeling or sitting on the floor, I am naked and she has begun to be topless around me when we have these little slave life chats!

I see her as maybe, in some small way, the reason my slave sister has moved on. To leave me on my own and take what I had learned, pass it on to others. Like my new “The Friend” and her dreams. I hope I can live up to what I had followed and pass it forward with pride and honor.

To Note: Please know that I know that The Pretty Brunette, The Friend, and others I know, read this blog. They have no influence over what I write. we will often talk after it published to get their feedback or commentary. and, Yes, I have everyone’s permission to tell the stories that I am telling here. Only the names are changed to protect the kinky.

My First Slave Sister is Gone

Note: This post is not a happy post and has been several days in the writing.

My Owner. When I become His slave, He had never owned a slave before. He always had plenty of pretty submissive’s to play with who would spend the weekend with Him. Playing Master & slave, doing all His domestic deeds as He commanded then they were used for His perverted sexual urges. Afterward, they were sent home and life went on.

He also had His old, but wise friend, Master Bill. He talked to me about Master Bill many times, but since the retired & medically disabled Gulf War Vet was always off helping other Vets around the country, I didn’t meet him for a long time. The stories Master_Sir told me about often were enough to know how wonderful and scary this man was! The stories. Some good, some really scary. I started to think that He was the one who they thought of when they invented the term “Sadist”.

Finally, I was told that I was going to meet this mysterious man. We drove to His house, I was in my collar, leash, and was nude. He was pulling into His driveway just as we pulled in and parked. I was escorted out, in a public scene, naked, and fearful. From the stories and seeing where he lived, I figured that it was probably pretty normal for His neighbors to see a naked slave on a leash at Bill’s house!

At that time in my Master/slave relationship, I was still trying to get my bearings on this entire “I am really Owned 24/7” So I was still worried about being seen. Master Bill was as expected. A large man with a gray beard, white hair, ponytail. Looking more like a biker dude than a man who should be getting out of a late model Cadillac! We were introduced and that was almost the last time he spoke to me directly. From there, I was “your slave” as He spoke with my owner. I was getting to like this man.

Inside His house, He pointed to the kitchen and told me what drinks He wanted and what drinks my Owner wanted. And He was right. The house was immaculate. And like ours, I saw the dog dish on the floor, but no dogs. Not even a slave. I served the drinks and sat on the floor next to my Owner, who had me spread my legs so that Master Bill could always see my pussy. He liked to see a slave pussy when she sits down.

He did as i kind of expected. He called me a fat slut slave who He was sure had some great potential. but “she needed to be better trained.” Telling my owner in a laughing manner to be more demanding on me. My Owner defended me, telling his friend “this is what I need and she is what I want. I am happy with her so far.” They agreed to disagree.

That is when something dropped into His alpha male head. Master Bill reached into His vest pocket and tossed me the keys to the Cadillac. Telling me to go out and get His slave out. To bring her in and have her start lunch for us all. I don’t remember seeing another person in His Caddillac, but maybe I was too nervous to really look.

Not even worried about my nakedness, I obeyed and went looking. I was right. Nobody was in the car. or were they? No? He wouldn’t? Would He? I popped the trunk and sure enough, there she was. His naked female slave. In a cage, in the trunk in the Cadillac.

Like this was normal, she smiled and said hello. She knew who I was and was happy to finally meet me. After the hellos, she asked if I could please unlock the cage so she can get out and stretch? She also wanted to know if her Owner said anything to me for her? This was all so normal and natural to her. So, in my startled voice, told her what he told me. She liked what I told her. She seemed happy that she had a purpose to get out of the trunk.

She introduced herself and told me to call her “”slave”. She knew what to call me. She was a skinny thing. Young, under 30 I was sure of. But the marks on her body told me it was a rough couple of years. She was pretty, in a different way. Probably 5’10 tall, less than 120 pounds. her small frame enhanced her large breasts, making them seem too big for her body style, but they were firm and they were beautiful. Whoever the surgeon was, He was the best in the business, I was sure of that. Her nipples were dark as well as large like pencil erasers. Her pussy was laser smooth. She had me check. with it all, she was happy to take my hand and we walked back into the house.

Once in the house, she immediately knelt at His feet. Kissing them and thanking Him for the trip they just came from. Being introduced to my Owner, she did almost the same. She held His foot in her hands and kissed His feet one at a time. I was not sure what to do. So she told me to follow her as we went into the kitchen to start preparing the food.

She told me that when we slaves talk alone, we need to talk softly, the men in the other room had no reason to hear two old slave jabbering. It was always about the Men, Her Master. And that was the start of my most wonderful friendship as a slave with another slave, that I ever had the pleasure to have. She was so far beyond my abilities as a slave, she often scared me in how she would submit.

She was at His side for almost 24 hours a day. When they were not together, we were together. Our Master’s had us walking miles almost every night. Doing exercises and at small events, she and I would be used as cum dumps. the men all wanted to use her. Why not? She was young, tight, obedient, and she had big tits. But I was the warm-up act and the second prize. but we were used well together and often.

When my Owner didn’t need me or was out of town, I was sent to stay with them. I hated those nights as well as loved those times. She and I talked when we could. I watched as He would do things to her that made my skin crawl. But she enjoyed it. She cried her eyes out from the pain and often pleaded for mercy. But in the end, she always properly thanked Him for it and asked for more.

If I was with her and she or I failed anything, we were both punished together. My Owner made sure that i was not punished “as bad” as she was, but He was not nice with the whips, floggers, and crops. When we went for a walk, it was timed and we had to take photos to make sure we did the entire walk in the time He allowed her to be outside the house.

When used by my Owner, she could wear Him out and still not have an orgasm. She was THAT well trained. She could fuck the entire football team and her pussy would be tight for the first as she was the last. And Yes, she fucked a semi-pro team that was in town once or twice. Three times. I know because I was there to offer condoms and water as they did her. She smiled afterward and in a very rough and worn-out voice, thanked her Master for the honor.

Through the years, she did let on that she was raised in a “very” dysfunctional household. That Master Bill had bailed out of a bad situation and provided a peaceful, stable shelter for her to recover from. After doing this multiple times, she offered Her obedience to Him for doing that. It was after we left Phoenix that I found out what the secrets in her life made her enjoy the pain, be that obedient, and agree to the total, no question submission she enjoyed so much. It was not pretty but I do understand how His firm hand in Owning her, gave her the inner peace, stability, and unquestioned love.

All I can say is that in learning more of her past life, I believe some people should never be allowed to be allowed to breed or to be parents. lets just leave it at that.

Sadly, We lost touch after moving here. She was never allowed much technology. Not one to communicate with others too much. He liked that and she did too. Then about three years ago, we were asked to attend a memorial for Him. Not knowing He had been sick with cancer for a while. But it was not much of a ceremony. Some from the “old Guard” in the phoenix BDSM community held a service. People came and said some kind words and they left.

His slave had to be drugged to be there. She was also chained to the floor next to His urn. Some questioned about her future. Nothing was really said and we never got a firm answer on her health or stability. She was unable to really talk with us. We said what needed to be said and we left. We learned that His brother took her to His place in Tucson and basically retired her from service. She never really came out after that and dropped communicating with everyone. Or was not allowed to communicate. We will never know.

Today, Master-Sir got an email telling us that she had committed suicide this past weekend. No memorial, her ashes had already been scattered with His over the desert area where they loved to hike. I guess not being owned or not having her master to serve, was too much for her. She needed to be owned. She needed to be used. And she needed Him.

In peace, her ashes are now where I guess maybe she found the most peace with Him. She always told me how much she loved those times He would take her out there to hike the desert trails. She, of course, would be nude except for her collar, leash, and hiking boots.

After their hikes, when we would get together for chores or our walk, she would smile as she relived their latest hike. Telling me how many men used her on the trails. How many fucked her or how many times she had to stop to give a man walking his dog, a blowjob. She swore, they were never in any danger or legal troubles. Most people either stopped to talk or just walked past them. She was happiest when she was on His leash. with Him pointing out the beauty of the desert as He used her on the trails for His entertainment, pleasure or His need to release some pent up energy..

I cant say that I will miss her, knowing we have been distant for the last few years. I will cherish what she taught me about true friendship, loving your Owner, deep service and absolute obedience. I will remember our times together and the fun we had being used, being needed, and being together. I would never have made it this deep into my own submission if I had never known her. She taught me how to live the life in full color.

I am hoping she is in peace and they are together forever. i never want to know what my life would have been like, had I never met her.

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