It’s been a while since I last posted. Sometimes life throws you for a loop and you get off until you’re no longer on a treadmill going nowhere but you’re back on track. I’m not quite there yet, but today I became one step closer.
Since I had to take out my last piercing and realized the ones we had planned were a thing of the past, it felt as if my sexuality, any attractiveness Master had for me, and my submission did not matter to him. Master in no way hinted or said that to me. It was my own feelings of losing my worth to him. Every insecurity I’ve ever had reared its ugly head and the thoughts and ideas that he no longer wanted me would not go away.
I usually write Master my feelings. This time I didn’t. I ran. I won’t get into what happened. That’s private, but it’s the reason I’ve been away.
Today, Master called during lunch. We spoke of a few things and he then ordered me to open my legs. I touched my pussy just as he instructed as he talked of something he asked me to do. Master was quite sneaky in this situation. He actually gave me a choice. Or what he would think of as a choice. Of course I was masturbating at the time and worked up enough that I wanted that last orgasm so bad. I could complete his request and was allowed to come or not do the assignment and not come.
Today’s discussion was on the request he made. Me telling him how my assignment went while he allowed me to masturbate. I believe it’s his way to soften the outcome for me. My assignment wasn’t easy, and I did not want to have the conversation Master required of me with the person he told me to talk to.
Anyway, Master instructed me, as always, how to masturbate. “Rub your finger on your clit. Question, question, question. “Put a finger in the opening of your hole, bitch.” More questions. “Rock your hips a bit.” He talked, “Come,” he said. He asked and learned. “Pump it, faster. Harder you’re not going to break it bitch.” His words, instructions, tone of voice sent my body soaring. Master allowed me three orgasms. And I thanked him. His last words before he hung up were, “now get back to work.”
I did as instructed. Of course, I was wet from the orgasms. Three hours later I sent him a text on how wet I was. Six hours later, as I write this, I’m still wet. Most would think from the orgasms.
But that’s not it at all. My clit throbs, my pussy gets wet, my nipples harden because of Master’s control. His control feeds my need more than anything. The man is sexy. He might disagree. He’s very dominant. He has a sense of humor that I love. Such a sensuous voice and laugh. His body and cock are things I ache for on a regular basis. All of those turn me on.
What speaks to my soul is Master’s control. What has me on my knees, immediately telling him yes to an assignment, being a slut and whore for him is my need for Master’s control.