Master-Sir is my Owner, my lover, my husband and my protector. He Is My life!
For those who read my posts and comments, who also send me mailings questing why I would ever stay in such an “abusive” relationship that obviously does not include love (their words, not mine), I have my one response to you. Get Real!
Please, think for a second about FetLife or any other adult social media site, why are you there or even here? You read it because it interests you. There is something there that excites you and makes you want to be a part of that fetish community. You are like me and the millions of others who would not be here if all I wrote about were all sweet lollypops and sugar plumbs, now would you??
No. if I wrote about my day to day life in any great detail, you would get bored in the first paragraph and leave. So I try to balance it out. I like to write about parts of my life as HIS SLAVE that excites me, interests me, confuses me and scares the hell out of me. I write about what is making my mind go in a million different directions. Not about how I clean a house or wash a car.
So I leave a lot of wonderful things out.
My Master-Sir often loans me out to others for domestic service as well as companionship and sex. Blow jobs primarily. Gangbangs, cum dumps, role-playing scenes or just because someone did him a nice favor and Master-Sir wants to reward them by using me as the Thank-You gift.
Master-Sir and I communicate. We probably talk to each other more than most married couples we know. I knew this way of life was the life I would live if I wanted Him in my life. It’s always been my choice. I know where the door is and I know where the savings account in my name only is kept.
Master-Sir has a vanilla girlfriend and she spends time here with him. While she is with Him, i am caged up, sent away, or at their feet serving as their handmaid. It’s her choice how I am used or not used.
When she or another woman is here for the night, I am either sleeping on the floor or most often in another room, bound tight and trying to sleep while trying to ignore her moans and groan of pleasure and ecstasy. They may even use me for clean up after hot sex, then send me away to get drinks and snacks. I accept that because I love the humiliation of it all..
What You Don’t Often Read About
For every night I talk about sleeping on the cold hard floor, while he sleeps in his soft warm bed alone, there are 4 nights I am curled up in His bed, in his arms and happy. He is playing with my butt plug, pulling on my nipples, whispering sweet thoughts into my ear. Asking me if I know that I am beautiful?
A fluffy girl with life-long body issues being told she is beautiful by a man who can capture any woman in the room? Really Sir? YES.
For almost every night he sends me away to be someone’s domestic whore, cum dump or date, there is probably a warm bubble bath and candle lights waiting for me at home. or at least a fresh colored rose on my sleeping rug.
For every 3 times he has harshly throat fucked his slave, made me gag on his magnificent cock and choke trying to drink his cum without spilling a precious drop, then slapped the daylights out of me before sending me to stand in the corner while he watches a movie on TV, there are the moments where he orders me to lay down in front of him and spread my legs wide. He will then get down on the floor, order me to hold my legs wide open while he fucks his obedient slave girl’s soft, smooth and wet pussy until she is screaming in agony, Begging for an orgasm He may decide to grant. Or not.
Afterward, he will grab the blanket off the couch, curl up and hold me until I stop all my shaking and we will watch the rest of the movie together in complete silence, locked in his wonderfully strong arms.
For every 5 times I am the naked maid to a bunch of his dressed friends, serving drinks, cleaning up spilled messes and sucking cocks in the kitchen while the pizza cooks, during a big game or fight: There is the one night he orders me to dress up pretty. Nice bra, No butt plug, no nipple clamps, and I get to be his arm charm for a night out. For a nice dinner and a movie or to a show. Then home for some incredible Master/slave sex.
For all the times he uses me, abuses me, gives me to others without telling me what for; For all the times i am his payment for something, his reward or gift or just something there to be used… There is an equal number of times he will allow me to sit next to him on the couch or chair and we will talk. Talk about life, dreams, goals, and plans.
Not to mention those times I will be heavy into a project, service or thought and he will break me out of that by grabbing me by my ponytail, pulling my head back in near whiplash style, locking his tasty lips to mine and giving me the most passionate, weak in the knees, loving kiss ever. Breaking the kiss and walking away smiling, ordering me to get back to work. (yea, as if I could after that stunt).
For every text telling me I can or can not use the bathroom, eat a snack or have a drink… There is the simple text message telling me “I luv my Bitch Slave”
To many, it may seem like a strange way to show a girl you love them. But then, I never was your ordinary girl. I’m his loving Bitch-Slave and he is my Master-Sir!