I served my Master. I used a frozen phallus and fucked myself for his pleasure. I applied a vibrator as commanded. I touched myself and came hard, so hard.
His command wrapped itself about me. His heat pumped my blood. God, how I needed to feel his control. It felt like the heatwaves of summer in the darkest frigid winter.
I am alive with electric need. I am his whore awaiting his every wicked intention. I will debase myself for the scraps of his attention.
He leaves me tonight with an ultimatum. Call to mind his engorged cock. Feel it filling my mouth, smooth and hard. Know of it stretching my pussy wide as his fingers invade my ass. Draw a ragged breath as his teeth graze upon my nipples and mar my neck.
How can I not? To see the words is to evoke the fire of transfiguration. The moment they left his thought I was marked by them.
My pussy twitches and burns with the girth of him. My mouth salivates as my tongue traces the velvet marble of his cock, the molten alabaster of its relentless head forcing my throat past any humiliating reflex.
I am but his vessel, his marionette. I may not touch, he says. Of course…I do not control the strings. My fingers are held in abeyance. Though my cunt contracts and my nipples cut glass.
My body is upon the altar to be sacrificed at his whim. I am nothing but his instrument. My only fervent wish is to be played.