Ask. And you shall receive. Part I.

Ask. And you shall receive. Part II. »« A new kind of drug dealer.

Ask. And you shall receive. Part I.

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Master, the young woman and I had agreed to spend the weekend of October 17th and 18th together. Originally I had planned on joining Master for the drive as he picked up the young woman at 11:50am; however, when Saturday arrived I changed my mind, wanting to spend time showering and tending to my morning activities, leaving Master to the task. At approximately 12:48pm, Master and the young woman arrived at the house and for the first hour or so the three of us basically visited in the living room, conversing over random topics, just "hanging out". Close to 1:30pm Master decided it was time to head into Toronto so that Master could shop at North Bound Leather. Master had shared with me that he wanted to purchase a hood/mask for the young woman as well as possibly finding other toys to play with and the best place in the GTA for such garments is located downtown on Yonge Street. The drive was filled with conversation and slight curiousity for the young woman did not know where we were going as well as some fun for Master as he played with the remote controlled vibrating egg he had instructed the young woman to place inside her cunt prior to leaving the house. Unfortunately the batteries were not working in Masters favour and even after we had parked the car and Master was in closer proximity with the young woman, the vibrations were still not as consistent as Master had hoped for.

Quickly we walked to the store, entering the leather playground. Master and I have frequented this store and we both find it to carry many lovely artifacts. We explored our surroundings, eventually finding our way to the back of the building where we were met with an array of deliciously beautiful masks and hoods. After a few moments of examining the samples, Master asked the young woman which one she liked best and as he did I could sense her hesitation in answering. Master shocked the young woman by informing her that the mask she was picking was just for her, a gift for her and that she needed to pick the one she liked the best. As Master spoke I watched the young woman, witnessing the transformation of her body as she heard Masters words. The young woman has a difficult time allowing someone to purchase anything for her and I knew she was struggling ever so slightly with the idea of Master buying her the mask. But the reality was that Master wanted the young woman to have a mask and he was not leaving until she picked one. As Master and the young woman examined the leather hoods, I pulled myself back from the situation, roaming throughout the store, physically spacing myself away from the two of them.

Something happened inside of me as I watched the two of them shop. I felt something foreign. I felt territorial. Regardless of any relationship I have had, I have not once felt possessive with anyone, not even family, that was until that one moment. And I did not like it. Master is not my property. I do not have any sense of ownership of Master and I absolutely do not consider Master a possession. Still, as I stood there, watching the two of them interact, watching others watch them interact, I suddenly wanted to place my hand in Master's, wrap my arm around Master's waist and kiss him letting everyone know exactly who I am and what I am to Master and what he means to me. The feelings were overwhelming, which is why I took a seat on a bench at the front of the store, distancing myself from Master so that I could collect myself, gain composure and be the strong, confident slave Master appreciates. I also removed myself from the decision making because I did not want to take away from the experience and my primal instincts would have done just that. I was not completely distant though as Master did approach me twice, running his fingers through my hair, offering the smile that always makes my heart melt, asking me if I was okay. And as contradictory as it sounds, I was okay, even though I was experiencing something incredibly awkward I was okay with what Master was doing I just simply did not wish to be in the center of it all, I felt more comfortable on the back burner. The physical distance remained even after we left the store and headed back to the car. This time I wanted to keep my pace and walk in front of them both because I did not feel comfortable with the conversation they were having, simply because I am a more private person and both Master and the young woman are far more comfortable speaking openly, publicly and as we left the store and crossed the street the two of them were conversing about the egg that was vibrating inside of her cunt. I could feel the flush on my cheeks as the spoke, even though not every word could be heard by everyone around us but to me, if even just one person heard it was one person too many.

Interestingly, once we were all back in the car I was comfortable again and as the conversation continued and both Master and the young woman expressed slight frustration that the egg was no longer vibrating, I joined in and it truly was as though nothing had happened. All of the territorial feelings were gone and it was just the three of us having a good time. The drive back to the house was full of conversation, chit chat that continued once settled inside. Due to my always planning mentality, as soon as we arrived home I realised that I wanted an onion for dinner and unfortunately we were all out. While I was out at the store, Master took time to show the young woman the paint ball gun he had purchased and allow her to test the gun out herself. When I returned home I found the two of them sitting on the porch by the sliding doors, the young woman learning how to load the gun and basically understanding the mechanics of it. I was thankful Master took that time to show the young woman the gun as I am still not overly comfortable with the idea of it being in the house let alone using it on a person. As the two of them tended to "operation paint ball" I prepared dinner, set the table and waited for them to come in.

Dinner was quiet, and quickly devoured and once the dishes had been tended to, the counter tops clean, the garbage taken outside, the three of us retired to the living room where the "play" was about to begin. Master was eager to try out the new board he had made previously that week and the young woman was eager to try her new hood and so within minutes the young woman was standing in the living room in just her bra and panties and the board with the blue straps was being held up with me behind it. As I sit here now I am actually flabbergasted that I truly have no true memory of what transpired. I know the young woman was bound with quick release plastic ties as well as tenser bandages and her head was shielded by her new lovely mask but I struggle with the other details. I know she was spanked with many instruments, the tennis ball with the golf ball in the center being one of them and if memory serves me right there was a point where she was on the pink spanking bench, her weight upon her knees, her frame resting against mine as my arms wrapped around her tiny frame, holding her close as she cried, protecting her so that she did not fall and harm herself. I have no recollection of the time that passed; however, there was a moment prior to me holding her where I had asked Master that if the young woman starts to cry that she will be put in a position where my help would not be required because I did not believe I could handle holding her as she cried. When the moment came though where the young woman did begin to show tears I found myself instinctively holding her. I know I could have asked Master to stop, to help Master move the young woman into a position where I was not needed but as I watched the erotic scene before me I could not help but remember the young woman's words when she had told me how much it meant to her when I held her the last time she cried, how that one moment had meant so much to her. And so, with that memory in my mind I moved to the young woman, keeping her safe, letting her feel that same sensation once more.

Again I find myself rather disheveled as I struggle to remember the events of the evening. I believe it was after the tears and the rather extensive pummeling of the young woman's bottom that Master and I untied her and she was granted permission for some cuddle time, some well deserved after care. Before and moments during the aftercare Master took time to ask me if I was okay, if everything was moving at a speed I was comfortable with and I responded, each time with yes. Because I was okay with the pace and I was okay with all which was transpiring; however, I also shared with Master that I felt disconnected, that I felt as though the entire situation was like being at a photo shoot and that in many ways I felt as though everything we were doing was a form of role play (which is unique because I have never role played before). Although I do not believe Master fully understood what I meant, he accepted my words and took them for what they were and stated he trusted me to tell him if anything was "too much". There was a moment when the young woman was showering that I believe was a turning point for me. Master had taken a place beside me on the floor and was kissing me. I happily accepted his warm lips upon mine; however, when Master went to caress my face I pulled back. Master continued kissing me, allowing his hand to slide under beneath my bottoms, his fingers just barely grazing over my ass cunt. Once more, as I felt his fingers on my flesh I flinched. This time, Master pulled back and I could see the questions behind his eyes. Master asked me what was wrong. Master reminded me that we were alone. Master questioned why I did not want him to touch me and I hesitated in answering. I felt embarrassed and ridiculous. I felt that if I shared with Master my feelings he would scoff at them. Still, I vowed to be honest, to withhold nothing and with extreme trepidation I softly whispered that I did not want Master to touch me because he had not washed his hands and his fingers had been inside the young woman and I just was not ready for Master to touch me knowing the young woman's secretions were still lingering on his fingertips. I could tell the moment the words left my mouth that Master was shocked and I believe, for the first time, I witnessed a sense of exhaustion in Master. As though he could not believe I said what I did. I tried to explain my feelings but in truth I do not believe they came out in the manner I wished. Still, Master respected my request and did wash his hands but I believe he still might be mystified by my reaction. And just as surprised as Master was, I was surprised to think Master would not think the same way I did/do. For me the not washing of Master's hands was not solely about me not being ready to have her liquids on me but more so about generally hygiene. I knew Master had his finger or thumb inside the young woman's ass cunt and for me, that was/is basic hygiene rule.

There were many long moments of silence between Master and myself. Eventually the young woman returned to the living room, finding her comfortable spot once again on the sofa while both Master and I remained on the floor, close in proximity yet distant emotionally. I felt heavy, weighted down with thoughts and questions and quite honestly I felt exhausted. Fatigued from fighting within myself. Tired from thinking about what Master and the young woman were feeling. Tired about what Master and the young woman wanted to experience. Tired from planning and pondering and ensuring Master and the young woman were having a positive experience. And somewhere between all of that exhaustion something happened. Something became unlocked within me.

I admit that when I rejected Master's affection, it hurt me and although I do not speak on Master's behalf, I believe it did not feel good to him either. I had wanted Master's attention, his touch, his soft kisses, the gentle way he caresses my back and the top of my bum. And as I sat, crossed legged, my fingers threading together in nervous wonder, my eyes locked on Masters' profile and I was overcome with an all consuming desire to kiss Master. I continued to look at Master, my eyes tracing his jawline, trailing along his lips and as each minute passed I envisioned myself sitting up on my knees, taking his face in my hands and kissing him.

Kissing Master. Slowly. Sensually. Languidly. Decadently.

My body seemed to move without thought, without guidance as my lips found Master's. Within seconds I was completely entangled by his limbs, my breasts pressed to his chest, the palms of my hands inching upwards, under Master's t-shirt. I wanted skin. I wanted flesh on flesh and as Masters fingers danced along my lower back, I found all reserve dissolving. I was aware that the young woman was witnessing mine and Masters exchange and yet I did not break away from our expression. I hungered for Master. More so I hungered for myself. I wanted to be touched. I wanted to be explored and I wanted to please Master.

Time was frozen.

Every breath that escaped my lungs, every sigh that rose up through my core, every gasp that stirred deep beneath my flesh brought a fever upon me, a heightened sense of lust and in that moment I was going to stop for no one, for nothing and every question, every hesitation, every doubt was executed from my mind. Masters hot kisses, his gentle whispers, his tenderness cocooned me, allowing myself the freedom to experience. Master and I never separated. Even when Master rose, repositioning himself on the bench, our flesh remained in contact. There was a magnetic pull between Master and I, when he moved, I moved.

There was a moment, a very distinct moment which I do not believe I will ever forget. I was kneeling before Master, my head nuzzled against his cock, my nostrils filling with his scent, the scent that marks me every time I feel it enter my orifice, where I felt myself transform. This is not an entirely new sensation, I can recall two other moments when this very thing occurred but it is still a surreal experience, one that I find difficult to explain, difficult to even understand myself.

I was kneeling, my body was present and yet I was not. It was almost as though I was watching the entire exchange outside of my body. That the woman whose mouth was full of cock, who was lapping and growling and ravishing Master's cock was not the me I see everyday. No, this creature, this entirely relaxed, almost limp, greedy, savage of a beast was not the girl I see in the mirror but rather that _other_ part, that deeply hidden, well shackled, completely concealed self, the one I refer to as pandora.

Many, if not all of us, have alter egos. Mine absolutely is in the form of a rather intense sexual entity. I first learned of pandora when I was twenty-one. I had been drinking that evening, tasting the sweet poison of liquid confidence and no inhibitions and as my body moved against my dance partners' frame, something wicked washed over me and before the music ended my nails had left a lasting impression upon his flesh just as his teeth had done to my neck.

Pandora,the darker part of my subconsciousness, is very much a part of who I am but one that I store, protectively and with great isolation in my internal iron maiden. Pandora is where limits do not exist, boundaries are obsolete and where fantasies become reality. Perhaps it is because I have yet to learn to control pandora that I fear its presence. When I am in that state, the moment of complete abandonment of rules; rules I have placed upon myself, rules I enforce every day, all day I am engulfed with a sense of freedom. Freedom and pleasure.

And when Master's cock pushed into the sleeve of my throat allowing me to take all of his length and girth without gagging, without struggling to breathe, I felt pleasure. Unbridled pleasure. Pleasure in its entirety. And my hunger, my desperate sexual fixation only intensified when Masters' cum filled my throat, causing me to swallow without thought, to swallow on instinct. My feeding frenzy continued as Master explored me with his hands, snapping his fingers, commanding me to cum, scratching my back. Everything Master said and or did brought a new level of ecstasy and it was not until Master had his fill, not until my own pandora was satiated did I finally stop. I laid limp, my face upon Masters' thigh, my eyes closed.

I know conversations were had and I am aware that before I collapsed I had crawled to the young woman, wrapped my arms around her and hugged her close. With my arms around her I thanked her for allowing me the experience I just had. I thanked her for being a part of it. Our embrace was not long and when I pulled back, her smile spoke volumes. As quickly as I moved to her I returned to Master, finding my place upon his thigh, remaining still. I barely spoke, or even thought for that matter but I was full of emotion. The reality of what just transpired flooded me and although I was embarrassed and although the beast inside of me was quiet I knew the night was not finished. I knew that something was lurking just under the surface.

I am not aware of how long we sat there. The three of us watching television, absorbing the nights events. What I do know though is that the same rumblings that boiled deep within my core when I first kissed Master were, once again, growling. Louder this time. Almost violently. I obeyed immediately, rising up on my knees, kissing Master as I straddled his leg, pressing his knee into my still wet cunt. Pandora had returned. Full force this time. There simply was not enough pleasure for me, I wanted more kisses, deeper kisses. I wanted to be spanked, to be pulled, tugged, used, violated and I wanted Master to enjoy every second of his greedy, aching slave. Regardless of greedy I become when in this frenzied state, I still was very much aware of the young woman and just as I had asked Master to have the young woman masturbate while she watched my throat cunt being fucked, I wanted the young woman to be included once again, for the young woman to receive pleasure, once again with us. I did not like the idea of the young woman feeling excluded and even though I was powerless to my desires I fought to maintain a moment of control and instruct the young woman to join Master and myself. And with great obedience, the young woman crawled to the floor, resting her frame beside mine and Masters. I spoke only twice to the young woman, once to command her to come to us and the second when I told her to move on all fours, ensuring her ass was pointed at Master. On sexual instinct alone I stripped her from her clothing, wanting her exposed, wanting her to be the toy Master and I had continuously referred to her as.

Again time was still.

I continued to grind against Masters thigh, asking him to tease, to play, to fuck the little toys ass cunt and cunt with his fingers. I wanted to feel through his caresses and the more I asked him to do, the wetter I became, the more I climaxed. My mind was void of all rational thought and the words that escaped me were full of deviant sexual debauchery. I can recall whispering to Master what we should do with the little toy, how we should torture and tease her the next day. How we should spank her with the aluminum paddle after it has been frozen for hours, how I should have Master cum all over my hands and then smear his release all over the toys face. Every idea, every imagine that flooded my senses could easily be those found in the tales of the Marquis De Sade. Interestingly, even though I truly had drifted into my safe cocoon and allowed pandora to play I still maintained a fraction of control for I recall being very pleased that the toy used her safe word regarding the semen exposure. (The young woman has a slight phobia with regards to bodily fluids and the mere thought of having cum on her face was too much to handle.) This slight intrusion of control dissipated immediately and my voice returned to that of a starving lust filled object.

I wish my memory was not as foggy. I know that eventually I moved from Masters' lap. I know that at one point a vibrator was placed in the young woman's hands and I commanded her to bring herself to yet another orgasm. And I remember stretching out beside the young woman, holding her close as she sobbed. Strong, deep tears streaming down her face. Both Master and I spooned her, Master behind, me in front, both of us holding the young woman, allowing her body to process the release, allowing her mind to catch up to all that transpired.

So much of that time, those hours are blurred, all meshing together. I know that the young woman received cuddle time, down time with Master but I can not recall where I was. I do know, because Master and the young woman have told me that sometime during the evening I fainted. Twice. I do not remember when that happened; however, I do find it interesting that after I fainted the second time, when I came to, apparently my first words were to tell the young woman I was okay.

Sometime after me fainting and the young woman receiving her cuddle time, Master decided it was bedtime seeing as it was past 4:00am and so after saying goodnight and tucking in the young woman, Master and I climbed the stairs to our bedroom. It only took moments before both Master and I were nestled under our duvet, my head upon Masters chest, his own supported by the numerous pillows he keeps on his side of the bed. We spoke, briefly and me most likely incoherent until without warning, sleep consumed us.

Series NavigationAsk. And you shall receive. Part II.»

Slave musings