Master/Slave Fantasy: Six Months of Sweet Torture

Master/Slave Fantasy: Six Months of Sweet Torture

It has been six months service.

Six months of doing his every bidding.  My new role has shown up strengths and weaknesses in me that previous roles have not.  I have learnt so much, from Him, from being His, from the silence and peace which layer over me as I do what is required to make His life smooth, easy and exactly as He expects it.

It has been six incredible months of looking after and pre-empting his every wish and whim.  I have my protocols – the things I am required to do and our rituals – the things we love to do.  Whilst he can be cold and hard at times, especially when He flogs me when it is deserved, He can be gentle and kind to me.  He allows me time at His feet on evenings when it is deserved – he will stroke my hair.  He never tells me I have done well as this I understand is not my place, but I know in these moments that I am needed and that is all the thanks I will ever need.  These rare moments when I am allowed to touch Him, outside of our sexual exploits, such as these quiet moments of meditation on my knees, hands clasping His ankles is the real gift He bestows upon me.

Part of my initiation into His service has been a real bittersweet pill to take.  Whilst He allows me to suck His cock as and when He requires it, which is always a guilty treat for me, and He spanks, flogs, canes, binds and whips me, sometimes when it is deserved, sometimes because He has had a bad day, I am never allowed to orgasm.  He never fucks me, He never touches me in an intimate way.

If I had orgasmed, even once, then my services would have been rendered unneeded for one week.  One week to lie where I sleep outside His bedroom door in the alcove which I call bed.  Collar on, leashed to the floor.  I would remain in the child pose like that for 24 hours a day, for 7 days with only three requested bathroom breaks a day, one opportunity to hygiene each morning and three small meals a day to cover the food groups and ensure I keep my health up.

This concept of such restriction – restriction which even I feel would be unbearable – was nothing compared to the possibility of being unneeded by this man I have come to see as my everything.  As slave I should not feel pleasure as such but the satisfaction and fulfilment I get from being in His service means I steal myself each day against wanting to count my blessings, from smiling and sighing contentedly.  I am not here to be content, I am here to serve Him.

So with the fear of disservice hovering over my head each time we enter his bedroom, I have managed to hold back from the point of orgasm for six long months.  The pain and frustration period of this was the hardest.  The fact that I was used previously for sex meant that I was never without and although on occasion the sex would be hard, it was an everyday occurance which I got used to having.  It became second nature and so, to suddenly find myself in the service of a man who got his requirements fulfilled by other submissive women, sometimes in His home whilst I lay outside in my alcove listening to her moans of pleasure and pain and my Master telling her the things I so longed to hear, I was in utter despair.  The times He would request me to enter his room and touch myself whilst  watching as He fucks his submissives are the hardest.  I know He is not mine and the jealousy is fading with time.  I know I have my place in His life, one that these other women do not fulfil, but I simply find great sexual pleasure in merely watching Him and being around Him.  He is strong and powerful and His presence alone can make me wet.  So watching that powerful Dominance overcoming a bound female is sometimes too much to bear.  He does it to test me – I know it.  I am on the brink from mere seconds into his sessions with these woman.  Sometimes they are bound on their backs with their legs spread wide and open, wrists to  thigh.  Other times he hoists their arms up high so their breasts are pushed out for His hungry beautiful mouth to suckle on before he spanks and flogs them to tears.  Watching these women coming uncontrollably in His hands is incredible – something I feel blessed to be allowed to witness – their usually quiet eyes enflamed with desire and agony.  They beg Him to stop and continue in one breathe – He silences them with a gag, or revels in their begging as He uses it to pull Him further into his Dominant Masterful mind.

As I kneel there up on my heels, knees apart, fingers working over my desire soaked sex, I have to concentrate very hard not to tumble over the edge.  By this point, my need to climax is agony and it takes the near superhuman strength of a submissive woman who wishes not to disappoint her Master to channel that energy elsewhere.  He sees if I slow down my pace – His tests on me are cruel but so be it.  He forces my fingers on, and I have to delve inside myself when I feel the sparkling, tightening, blissful agony of release pushing nearer.  I have to occasionally avert my eyes from His hard cock pushing deep into His submissive’s ass as she animalistically cries out in a bliss only afforded to the luckiest of subs.

The tension rises and rises, I pray for it to be over.  His heavy breath as He falls steadily into His perfectly controlled and utterly divine orgasm sends my pulse rocketing every time.  My heart races until I think it will burst from my chest.  My breathing as I watch His eyes clench as His thrusts become long and hard and painful to His now depleted sub shakes my entire being and my throat dries up.

The mere second He is completed He looks to me.  He see’s my distress and knowing I have done my duty of not coming orders me to leave and return to my alcove to think on what I have witnessed.  I know He is training me.  It feels good and it feels so despicable all at once.

Occasionally the concept that He may never allow me release explodes through my mind and I whimper.  Only once this has occurred whilst He was near by and the look He shot me let me know I was in disgrace.  I was flogged bitterly that night.  I did not whimper again.

And now it has been 6 months.  I am beyond the physical requirement of an orgasm. I have moved into a near spiritual state to get over the fact that my body has this incredible pent up energy flowing through it.  Sometimes it screams and begs me to let it out. Other times it transports me to a higher plain of understanding and my submission to my Master is deepened by this internal gift He has lovingly given me.

*

He has called me to sexual service tonight.  He requests, as ever, that I am naked.  Hair scraped back into a low slung ponytail as requested.  I bend at 90 degrees over the side of his huge dark wood sleigh bed, elbow to hands on the mattress, shoulder width apart, as usual.  Head lowered, eyes open and looking directly at my hands as normal.  My legs are set at just over hip width to allow me some stability whilst he does whatever He requires of me.  I see the belt laid out.  Hard and wide, long and thick.  But that is all – usually He uses at least three or four different types of implement to allow me the full extent of pain and develop my ability to take more each time.  This is useful to Him for when His day is hard and He needs the full de-stress.  For this He often calls upon two or more submissives to take the full brunt, but His training of me to take it all eventually is one of the small accolades I allow myself pride in.

But why then is there only the simple belt? He knows I can take this well.  As I quietly recall our last session with the belt I feel myself become slick. I feel the swell of blood in my veins as I think back on the sounds and sensations as the leather beat against my skin – the burning, piercing whip of hard against soft and the resounding sense of falling into bliss in the moments between change over to another implement.  I sense my pupils dilating hard, the pulse in my throat quickens, the tightness of sexual tension which is always there and has become a part of my daily exsistance becomes painful.

It has been too long.

I hear Him enter the room.  My pulse doubles again.  He walks around me and inspects my position.  The arch of my long back just right.  The curve of my backside pushed out as He requires. My pussy and ass displayed proudly for whatever He wishes to do with them – which is nothing.  I am not here for sex.  I am here for punishment.  My legs dead straight.  My fingers long and together.  I see Him out of my peripheries walk behind me and assume, as normal, He is walking to position Himself for an initial spanking.

*

Instead, He sinks two long slim fingers deep into my aching, soaking, desperate cunt and hits my g-spot with ease.

I scream as I convulse instantly around Him.  He pushes His thumb into my ass up to the hilt and grips my hair back hard.

I fall and keep falling.  Six months of bitter, hot, delicious, agony.

I breathe deep for the first time in a long long time.

Face-of-Orgasm-731

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Fantasy 10: His

Fantasy 10: His

Silence ebbs over me – still, peaceful.  The only sound is my steady breath as I slide into that quiet space inside my head.  The one that allows me the freedom to just be.  The one where the world ceases to exist outside of the exact space I am in current ownership of – in this case, my beautiful comfy bed.  Sub has moved into the place which Little Girl has just vacated, tail between her legs after her punishment from Daddy.  She was certainly more sedate by the end – but she knew Daddy loved her more than ever.  

Every punishment made them stronger – the relationship between the two of them growing more vital and real with every spank, every tightened binding, every verbal scolding, every tear fallen, every gentle kiss to make it ok.  

Little girl is a new member of my head spaces.  One which I still struggle with occasionally having no ‘daddy-issues’ to speak of.  But simply, I believe her to be an extension of Sub…she delights in being free to fly outside of reality as with sensation-seeking sub, whilst also revelling in the concept of knowing that she is undeniably, unrelentingly loved no matter what she does.  Her sheer vulnerability and dependence on her Daddy to teach her right from wrong and love her regardless makes her different to sub.  And her existence means that sub has grown up a bit and is a little stronger than she originally was now that Little Girl has taken away some of that sensitivity.  

Don’t misunderstand me: Dom always loves sub – as much as Daddy adores his Little Girl…but D/s time together is borne more out of pleasure – even the punishments have a sensual edge to them.  No matter the 200 slaps of the paddle which sent tears flying down my cheeks and made me pull and fight against the binds which tied me into the torture for as long as his heart desired – the ultimate aim for both is sex.  The receiving of that agony and the giving of it is our version of the sweetest, most intense foreplay – knowing that all he wants is to soothe my pain, even whilst serving it; knowing that all he wants is to blindfold me, bind me to the doorframe, lift my legs around his waist and fuck his little sub while she cries out lost in the richest, all encompassing, swirling vacuum of intense sensations until he is spent and she is collapsed over his shoulder.  

Knowing that all he wants then is to untie her and carry her exhausted, perfect being to his lap where he holds her tight and rocks and kisses her into oblivion.  

Little Girl is not for pleasure.  Little Girl is the ‘learning’ aspect of my lil kinks…it used to be sub, but with all my girls developing, it became necessary I suppose to separate them out further, like a child growing new aspects of their personalities, new likes and dislikes, new ways of behaving…learning as they go.  Sub likes to learn, and then she likes to be fucked…and because the end goal is the pleasure, sometimes the lesson is not learnt all that well.  Little Girl on the other hand takes the Real Life punishments – the ones which are given out to keep me safe.  I walk home in the middle of the night all alone? Little Girl must learnt so that I am safe and do not do it again.  Brat gives Dom a cheeky comment (then dashes away sniggering)?  Sub takes her punishment, but since the cause of it was not life endangering, she takes it and gets fucked as well.  It’s still an important lesson to learn – but it’s rooted in the fun of the partnership.  After all where would Dom be without Brat getting me into trouble every now again.  

It’s fun…it’s a game.  It’s pleasure and pain.

So having accepted the punishment for my misdeameanor, Little Girl has taken on board the lesson.  Now I am left alone…me and Sub.  Me? Sub? Who am I left as as I lie here in the darkened room, the dawn slowly seeping through the curtains?  I don’t know anymore – nor do I care.  The peace is all consuming and I drift there happily.  

I hear him, my Dominant now, entering the room.  My body prickles…rarely after Little Girl has taken a punishment do I get the treat of being with Dom so soon.  I may get strokes and rocked to sleep…but this?  This is a treat – brought on no doubt by his worry, as he considers all the awful things which could have happened to the love of his life on that lonely walk home from town.  

His initial anger gave way to panic and concern which led to Little Girl spending time bent over in front of Daddy and this beautifully welted red backside I am now fashioning.  But now, it would seem that that adrenalin has given way to lust…and who better to deal with that than Dom and sub…

…the original characters in this game, this life…our little slice of heaven on earth.  

They know one another better than anyone could.  They have seen both the light and dark sides of this particular kink they share.  But nothing, however dark, seems to be able to break that bond.  

His need to dominate and his methods in doing so are the exact counterpart to her need to submit.  

I feel the ball gag touch my lips.  They instinctively open, and my teeth grip the cool, slip of the soft plastic as it fills my mouth entirely – my lust swollen lips now stretched almost to a sensation resembling pain.  I bite down on the ball and release it, feeling the material give way to my testing and refill my mouth as i relax my jaw once again.  I probe it with my tongue, trying to find a comfortable position for it. Flat against it? Underneath it? Hmmm…it’s just so big! I am distracted now anyway as I feel him lift my head to bring the leather studded straps around either side of my warm, flushed face, before I sink back down as the sensation of him tightening increases until I feel it hit the perfect spot and, locked in to place, his hands move away.  Next the blindfold…cool satin covers my eyes and my heart rate skips up just the tiniest notch.  

Finally, the ear plugs…he really wants to take me down to the very recesses of subs headspace tonight.  

All in place, I lie there…the only senses I have left are smell and touch…and even that is limited with my hands bound.  Because of this, my skin is now prickling – like live electricity is flowing through my veins.  

What next?

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Aside

Fantasy 9: Little Girl Gets What Is Coming

I am out of luck.

Daddy lifted me from his knees and placed me, bent over the dresser, my cheek pressed against the cool wood, my wrists now being bound behind my back with the tie he had been wearing at work that day.

My hearts skips as I’m pretty sure I know what is coming – the part where he won’t allow me to come until I can no longer hold it back and I practically implode from the inside out for him until he has to catch my limp body as my legs fail to hold me up…

my body slumping over his strong arms.  

Of course, this is what Little Girl would have got had she not been in the middle of a very serious punishment session.

What in fact happened next made me shiver with terror…and excitement.

The bamboo cane is rarely used.  It is a fun game for us, but if I had a choice I’d always choose the hand.  The canes’ sharp, mean little thwacks hurt more than I care to let on and it takes me too long to relax into them for it to be a pleasurable experience.  Plus, of course this is not meant to be a pleasurable experience!

Usually I would have the paddle for punishments – but perhaps Daddy is thinking that my misdemeanor is so out of charachater that only an out of habit implement will do to ensure it sticks in my mind. Either way, I know this will not be pleasure in any shape or form.  My already red behind is stinging and tingling beautifully from my just-received spanking…how I wish I could revel in its heat a little longer, but before I get a chance to even attempt to take my self down into sub’s mindset and away from Little Girl’s more pain adverse headspace I sense the cane moving through the air.

I hear it hit me a split second before the scorching jet of pain courses across my backside like a knife.  God I love Him.  I feel bile rise in my throat as my body tries to encompass the sensation.  He waits a brief moment for my suddenly erratic breathing to calm – but not long enough to allow me to slip into my sub head.

No such gift – after all I have been a very bad little girl.

The rain of sharp agony continued until I could barely catch my breath between each one – as I reached 30…35…45…50.  I held my breathe on the last five…praying his goal was 50.  It was.  I had taken far more with the paddle, and as much as I hated it, it’s flat, firmness allowed me to get lost in the pain more easily than the cruel spiking spits of the cane.

I still managed to get out the words “Thank you Daddy” – although they slipped out my mouth in a ragged breathe.

*

Little Girl had more than learnt her lesson.  With the tears which has been falling hard and fast during the the last twenty or so swipes slowly drying, he took my wrists and, turning me, steered me gently to the bed.  Lying me on it face down, still bound, my elbows limp and my wrists straining at the bindings holding my hands at my lower back, i sunk into the soft duvet, exhausted, exhilarated, turned on beyond any reasonable measure…why does this pain excite my body in this way? It is is a question i rarely bothered my mind with anymore…but there it was popping into my head.  I felt my brow furrow as a pondered it for just another brief moment before I felt the cool sensation of oil being dribbled over my burning, cane streaked cheeks.   I felt my breath rushing out from my mouth, my lips swollen with lust.  His expert hands gently soothed away the pain and I felt a last tear trickle down my cheek at the kindness and tenderness he was now demonstrating.

As my heart rate slowed, my breathing soothed and my backside began to merely tingle…I knew the punishment was over.

“Has my Little Girl learnt her lesson?”

“Yes Daddy”

“You will stay here and think it through until I come back. I want an apology, then sub can have her time with her Dom.  Ok? Daddy is done with you for now Little One.”

And with that, he stroked my hot cheek, kissed my eye lids closed and left the room, leaving me to my thoughts.  

And what thoughts they were…

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Double click to watch her get a caning

Fantasy vii: Little Girl’s Punishment – Daddy’s View

Fantasy vii: Little Girl’s Punishment – Daddy’s View

Daddy:
Surveying her gorgeous pert bottom and creamy skin, upper thighs a little slicked with excitement…my immediate urge is to slide my fingers between them and cause her to convulse in pleasure…but I steel myself for now. My little girl has a lesson to learn. Dom will have his time with sub later, but right now it’s daddy and his little girl.
Tightening one arm well around her waist as she continues to complain and shift her body, I start to very sharply and firmly bring down crisp hard spanks on her round behind – right on the sweet spot which she loves to hate so much. The result is a beautiful bounce but it also causes the kicking to increase.
”Do you know what might have happened to you?! Young lady you know there is always a reason I ask you to do something, don’t you?”  SMACK SMACK  SMACK
”Owwww I’m sorry daddy I’m sorry!”. SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK
”You could’ve been in serious serious danger miss. And what would I have been able to do?”  ”If” SMACK ”I” SMACK ”had” SMACK ”lost” SMACK ”you” SMACK.
Her gorgeous cheeks have turned from their normal creamy white to a heightened shade of red already. I hear her breathing erratic and ragged. She’s taken some real hard spankings before – she can take much more.
But it’s not the pain I want for her – the more pain she gets the more likely she is to slip into subspace and I want here 100% hearing the words I’m saying.
Thinking about never seeing daddy again or how he would feel getting a call from the police….it’s too awful.
”I’ve learned my lesson daddy. I promise.”
 ”Young lady, your promises were suspended when you lied.” ”SMACK ”repeatedly” SMACK ”to my face” SMACK SMACK SMACK.
 I Work my way down from her scorching cheeks to the tops of her thighs…her wails increase…..
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Fantasy v: Little Girl’s Pre-Punishment Thoughts

Fantasy v: Little Girl’s Pre-Punishment Thoughts

With him gone the tears which had pooled in my eyes spill in a hot gush down my icy cheeks.  Shame at my lies burns them hotter still and embarassment at being caught makes me cry more.

I finally peel off the dress and leave it in a pool on the floor. Too tired and still tipsy to consider anything more useful to do with it. Naked now i slip into the hot water of the shower and wash away the chill.

The anxiety of what’s coming does not leave me though. Instead it builds in my stomach making my heart pound harder and harder until i am weak and the breath is being forced out of my throat.  I stay in the water as long as possible but all too soon i know my time is up. Being made to wait will only serve to infuriate him further and knowing how my bad behaviour will have affected him…i don’t want him any angrier.

I towel myself off and find my white cotton panties,the ones i know my daddy likes, and a white frilly pair of pajamas, just see through enough that he can make out the colour of my nipples through the top. Little, frilled shorts and strappy top in place i go to the end of the bed, kneel, bow my head and place my hands on my thighs – now warm and still perfectly smooth and soft.  Knowing he will be coming back any second makes my heart pound once again, with fear but also from the steady rising excitement at the pain and pleasure to come.  

Sometimes little girl just wants her daddy to be cross with her…

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Fantasy Part iii: The Loved Little Girl Gets In Deeper

Fantasy Part iii: The Loved Little Girl Gets In Deeper

My throat tight with anxiety and yes, fear, i stutter “I just got a taxi back with the girls” and start to remove my cold wet dress hoping the desire to touch my skin might distract his inner animal, or the site of me cold wet and shivering might awaken a gentler side of him…one which might forget to be angry and will instead warm me up in his powerful arms and strong chest.

Instead it leads him to say ‘Leave that on’.
“But I’m freezing Sir”…
“And why might that be if you got a taxi?”
Another lie emerges from my lips: “We were waiting outside for it for ages”.
“Really…where did you wait?”
“Near the top of town”
Thats three lies now…at least. Getting colder by the second, and not just from my dress but from the steely look which has been in his eyes since the moment he caught me in them like a rabbit in headlights.

“You wouldn’t lie to me would you little one? My little girl is a good girl…she’d never lie to her daddy would she.  Because she knows how much more a wet spanking hurts doesn’t she”.

With his point well and truly made, I become painfully aware of the soaking material clinging to my thighs and backside and murmur, ‘No Sir…i’d not lie”

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Fantasy ii: “The Loved Little Girl”

Fantasy ii: “The Loved Little Girl”

The door clicks as I close it, gritting my teeth as I carefully twist the lock so it closes softly. Controlled breathing. It must be light. It must have been an hour or so since speaking to him.  I check my phone – in fact it was 2 hours – surely he’ll be asleep by now! 
 
I Tip toe, tip toe, softly down the hall. I am totally soaked. But feeling the 20 pound note, damp in pocket, as reassurance it was worth it. Another little charm for a bracelet.  A glass of wine or two. Who knows! But I still feel a small and naughty sense of victory. Though his words are still ringing in the back of my head:
 
 
”Now miss, that money I gave you was for one clear purpose. What is it?”
”To get a taxi home Sir.” 
“And why is my little girl going to get a taxi?” 
“Because its dangerous, dark and wet out’…and…um…”
Since I am still giving more focus on getting my hair right than listening to him from the doorway as he leans against the frame he starts to walks over to me and catches my attention by sliding my collar around my neck….”and…?.”  
”And I need to get back safely and soundly to Sir because I’m his Little Girl and he loves me very much.”  
”Yes little one. Your safety is priceless. We clear?”
‘Yes sir…please will you help me fasten my necklace now…the girls are waiting.”
 
Yes he cares. So much. But he is so so cautious with me. So I’m a little wet and happened to walk home alone…nothing bad happened did it?! AND I’m 20 pounds better off. He’ll never find out…
 
….Little Girl creeps into the kitchen. I take a long drawn out drink of juice from the carton and creep into the bedroom…sliding open the door to get my soaking clothes off…my stomach tightens, knees give a little and breath is stolen as I am greeted by a figure I know and adore, but in this moment fear, sitting comfortably in his leather wingback chair at the back of the darkened bedroom….
“Well young lady…something to tell me….?”
 
To Be Continued
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