“If sex had felt like that years ago, I would have been a slut!”

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“If sex had felt like that years ago, I would have been a slut!”

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Touching Master is equivalent to breathing for me, I simply need it. Very rarely do I say I need things, simply because I do not take such a word lightly. I tend to think of needs as necessities for living: water, air, shelter, food and love, everything else is a want. With regards to the relationship I share with Master, I truly do need to touch him, I need to feel his body beneath my finger tips, I need skin on skin contact. When I am permitted to touch Master it reassures me that I am pleasing, that he is taking pleasure from me and that I am deserving of being at his feet. For me, touch is an essential means of communication between us and I believe it is because of my thoughts and desires that the previous three weeks have been rather trying.

Sexual fasting is not new for me, Master has demonstrated such will power numerous times before; however, this last time pricked something deep within me. Our exchanges were not completely void of physical contact, there was in fact one lovely evening when Master pulled me from the floor to the chesterfield where he wrapped his right arm around me, spooning me tight and close. The intimacy in that moment was breathtaking and as Master teased my already sensitive nipples, I found myself quickly gasping, soft little moans escaping my lips. I treasured that moment and I still do but it was one of only two where Master and I lingered in such close proximity, other than when in bed.

I confess I had been counting the days, waiting with great anticipation for the day when Master would grant me permission to touch him, to suck his cock, to be used by him. I was even hopeful on the Thursday before he left for overseas, thinking, desperately wishing that Master would allow me to touch since he was going to be gone all weekend. Much to my dismay, I was denied my desire, Master providing me with a kiss to my lips and nothing more. There was a part of me that was hurt, that felt cast aside throughout the entire three weeks. I had even become worried, as though I was no longer desirable to Master, that I simply could not give to him what he was craving. My insecurity I believe was fueled more than normal during my lustful starvation because Master was still having pet be sexual, was still commanding pet to have orgasms, to stuff her cunt, to train her ass cunt; however, there was no sexual exchange between him and I. Throughout those entire 21 days, Master did not instruct me to cum for him, did not encourage me to play with myself and to top it off, Master had touched himself, had climaxed on his own at least once and I had not been privy to any of it.

Although I felt disconnected both with Master as well as my sexuality throughout Masters' time of restraint; I found myself working harder, putting more time and dedication into all things that are pleasing to Master. I spoke in third person almost every time we conversed on line, using "Your slave" when speaking. I also searched through numerous photographs on line, sharing the ones I liked as well as ones I thought Master would like. One day I even took a few photographs of me in a black hood for Master, hoping he would see just how much I wanted to be his slave, how much I wanted to please him. On that particular day when I had sent Master the photograph of me in the hood, Master did make the comment about putting me back in the hood and adding a ball gag once he arrived home. I remember reading those words and feeling my entire body ignite. I could barely suppress my excitement and as I waited on my knees for Masters arrival, my stomach was full of eager butterflies. Unfortunately for me, Master did not pull out that hood that evening, nor stuff my mouth with a gag, instead we ate dinner then watched some television all while Master tended to his forums on line. I believe I experienced a full range of emotions during those three weeks, from angry to sad, to frustrated to defeat and I think that when I was sent to bed on that last Thursday, a part of me simply gave up. I can recall cocooning myself under the thick duvet, tucking the corners under my feet and along my sides and as I closed my eyes I accepted that I might not be permitted to touch Master any time soon and I should find other ways of pleasing him, of receiving pleasure myself.

When I woke the next morning, I found myself staring at Master, my eyes scanning his body and it was the first time that I can ever remember feeling like a predator. I did not look at Masters' body simply because I was appreciating his form, nor did I look at him in a lovingly gaze. No, my intense stare was fueled by lust and I was surprised to find myself salivating. In those early hours I had become an animal and I wanted to devour Master, I wanted to attack him with touch, with caresses, with my mouth on his flesh, my lips wrapped around his cock. There was a battle taking place, my reason fighting my emotions and in the end logic won, pushing me up from our bed and into the shower.

My level of arousal remained with me throughout the day and in a last attempt to show Master what a horny slave he owned, I begged Master if I could cum, I begged Master if I could play with the cunt he owns. Much to my surprise he granted me permission and although my orgasm was intense, it was unfulfilled because it had come all while not being allowed to give to Master, to please Master. Unwilling to give up as I had the night before, when I greeted Master at his work later that day, I showed Master that I had stuffed the ass cunt he owns with the vibrating plug and although his smile combined with evil chuckle warmed me, I wanted more. I wanted him to call me his obedient slave, I wanted him to slap my ass or to tug on my hair or to push me against the car once we arrived at the airport and run his fingers over my covered cunt. I wanted something, anything, including freedom from the incessant ache of not being able to touch him. At that point in time I would have taken not feeling anything at all rather than feeling such an overwhelming sensation of helplessness.

It was on that Friday, right before Master walked through his gate where I witnessed a glimmer of hope for Master instructed me to use the electric stimulating dildo as well as a glass toy and to cum for him that very night. Never before had I been as excited to play with myself for Master. I do not doubt that had Master told me to slide my hand down the front of my pants while we stood together in the airport foyer, I would have. I have complete faith that had Master told me to get on my knees and kiss his covered cock, I would have been on the floor before he could have finished the sentence not caring who saw what. I was in a complete state of desperation and I both loved it and loathed it all at the same time.

My feelings of uncertainty did not diminish completely; however, they certainly relaxed and I was able to focus on many other pleasing thoughts throughout the weekend, the most pleasing was Masters' arrival on that following Monday. I had climaxed numerous times Sunday, so many in fact that my body almost rejected my last orgasm and although I was and still am grateful for all the pleasure I received, it did ease the sexual tension I had with regards to touching Master. I genuinely feel that had Master not granted me permission to touch him when we arrived home from the airport, I would have crumbled. I had already been on the brink of tears throughout the past three weeks and any form of no on that faithful night might have been my breaking point. Fortunately for me, Master did not hold back, in fact, not only did he not make me beg, he forced my body to the ground, gripping my hair, shoving my face to his cock. The mere scent of him made me intoxicated, but before I was granted any access, I had to draw him a bath and then wait for him to finish cleaning himself. I did not count how many minutes he soaked but the short time he remained in the bath was pure torture for me and it was not until I felt Masters' strong grip in my hair pushing my mouth down onto his cock that the ache started to dissipate.

To watch me devour Masters' cock must have been amusing for I am certain I looked like a starving dog, lapping, licking, swallowing whole every inch of Master and no matter how much I salivated, how much my cunt drooled, I was not satisfied. In fact I do not believe I am satisfied even today and I have been privy to Master the entire week. I wanted Master in my mouth, in my cunt, in my ass cunt, on my lips, slapping my tits, I wanted him everywhere, all at once. It was not long that Master had enough of my mouth cunt and without hesitation, he grabbed me, yanking me to the sofa, pushing my face into the soft cushion all while kicking my legs apart. Even though I was ravenous, I was also nervous simply because my holes had not been used in such a long time, still, the moment Master slipped his cock into my ass cunt I began to squeal. There was no pain. Not even for the slightest second. I felt instant pleasure the moment Masters' cock pushed past my tight hole, sliding it deeper than he had before.

I knew I had been craving Master, what I did not know was how much. The moment I felt him slide inside me I wanted him to fuck me. I did not want him to be gentle. I did not want him to have patience with me. I wanted him to pound into the fuck meat I had become and use me for whatever pleasure he desired. I wanted to be the object of his desires, I wanted to be the toy to play with then put away wet, I wanted him to abuse the flesh before him and take everything he craved all while not concerning himself with me. I have no time frame for how long he ass cunt fucked me but what I do remember, what will hopefully never leave my memory is the moment he slipped his fresh cleaned cock into my cunt. Just as I had been nervous with Master penetrating my asscunt, I was doubly nervous with him fucking my cunt. My cunt always feels pain, regardless of how many or how little it is used and due to such a lengthy time of any exposure I was certain it would hurt far more than before. Regardless though of my worries, I remained still, bracing myself, forcing myself to relax my naturally tight hole, forcing myself to inhale and exhale slowly, to recite my slave mantra in my head and to be the best obedient slave Master could ever want.

The instant I felt Masters' palm on my lower back I knew he was about to slip his cock into my cunt and once I felt the tip enter me I gasped. And the more Master filled me, the more I gasped. I gasped, and sputtered, and screamed and cried. My tears were fierce, every flowing. I believe I was crying so hard my entire body was jerking, slamming back against Master. The sensation of Master entering me was like nothing I had ever felt before. It was far more intense, raw and primal than anything I had ever experienced before and I could not identify it, I could not define what I was feeling, all I knew was that, well, was that it felt good!

Yes. Good.

Not just good. It felt fucking unbelievable. There was no pain. Not even the slightest. I felt no pinching. I felt no ache. All I felt, all I was consumed with was an overwhelming sensation of pleasure. Real pleasure. Genuine pleasure. There was not a single moment while Master was fucking my cunt where my pleasure was derived from pleasing Master. This level of joy, this level of positive intensity was all coming from within me, from the sensation of Masters' cock slipping in and out of my drenched cunt hole. Every ounce of lustful bliss was emanating from my core, from my cunt and the realisation that Masters' cock fucking my cunt was the cause for such ecstasy was exhilarating, was surreal.

I have no idea how long Master fucked the cunt he owns, all I do know is I kept screaming for him not to stop. I did not want it to ever end. Eventually Master did stop, only to shove me back onto the floor where he used my mouth cunt, slapping my cheeks, telling me to be a good bitch for him and somewhere between being called a dirty slut and having my hair yanked, Master came. Master came all down my throat, filling my stomach, bringing his slave full circle, bringing his slave back to the place she is the happiest, gasping for air, breathless with every hole completely used.

Once we had caught our breaths, I found myself curled against Masters' frame, nestling in tight, his body heat covering me in my favourite of blankets. As we sat together, I could not help but giggle. Master kept smiling at me, uncertain I believe as to where my little fits of laughter were coming from and eventually asked what was so funny. With a bright grin curving the corners of my lips I spoke, "Master, if sex had felt like that years ago, I would have been a slut. I had no idea, none. You mean _that_ is what it is suppose to feel like? I have a lot of catching up to do"! I was in genuine shock having experienced sex without any form of pain, for the very first time in my entire life. Prior to that Monday night, I had sex where it did not hurt as much or where the pain was so dull I could almost ignore it but sex had never, ever felt good. In the beginning when I would have sex I did it out of courtesy. I felt it was my "duty" to have sex with a boyfriend because it was the "right thing to do". No man ever forced me to, it was my choice. The experiences with Master have still been painful, but I have also taken great pleasure knowing I was pleasing him so there has been a difference but it was still painful. Monday night it was not painful. It did not hurt. It felt fucking fantastic!

In fact it felt so good that after dinner, Master proceeded to fuck his holes allover again and unlike the numerous times before, I did not beg Master to stop, instead I begged him to fuck me harder. In fact Master fucked me so hard I was screaming and somehow the pounding and the shouts of ecstasy caused concern for a neighbour for approximately 30 minutes after Master had used me to his satisfaction, two police officers approached our home. Seeing as Master was still naked I timidly walked to the door. Before the officer said anything I felt their appearance on our doorstep had something to do with the sexual carnival that had transpired moments earlier and by the blush on both constables faces, I knew I was correct. Quite timidly, the male officer politely asked if we would close the blinds to our windows as a neighbour had complained that they could see us having sex. Immediately I felt the rush of embarrassment coat my cheeks and as I looked back and forth between the officers I simply nodded and said most certainly. I am not so certain who was most embarrassed; however, once I had agreed both constables bolted from the door, leaving me both laughing and angry.

Laughing because I could not believe someone would actually make a complaint about such activity considering it is in our home, we are not fornicating on the front lawn. Angry because how dare anyone be looking through our windows, they have no right to complain if they are peeking into our privacy. Truly I could not believe that Master and I had been "told on" and even though I did not like the idea of someone peering into our home, I felt a rush of wild excitement. Master and I had been caught having sex and we did not even know we were being watched. How exciting. How dare devilish.

After sharing with Master what the police had said, he too was laughing and angry; however, we have since moved past the anger and now part of us want to keep the blinds up, simply to make a point. Well, Master is more about keeping all blinds up, I still want to lower the one closest to our neighbours house, I am wild but I am definitely not reckless, but this entire experience has certainly awakened something in me, a slight exhibitionist I dare admit.

Those three weeks were quite the lesson and although I ached to touch Master, although I went through some emotional battles, I feel a new sense of understanding after having read Masters' journal and also for experiencing all I did on Monday night, not to mention Tuesday night, Wednesday night and even Thursday night. This entire week in fact has been eye opening and although my sexual confidence has tripled, it still can shatter rather easily. The difference between now and then though is now I can pick up the pieces much quicker and that feels amazing.

~His

(Side note: it is important for me to add that for two weeks of the three weeks in which we were not sexually intimate I was suffering from an awful yeast and bladder infection which stunted our sexual play. My feelings of owiness though did not stunt my desire to touch Master. I think in fact it made me want to do so more simply because touching myself was not as pleasurable.)

(Emblem: Ontario Provincial Police badge; courtesy of Ontario Provincial Police.)

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