Masturbation Fantasy

I was masturbating recently and I came up with a fantasy that twisted me so hard. I have to share it with you.

I’ve been fantasizing when I masturbate a lot more lately. In my efforts to become more orgasmic with Daddy, I decided that masturbation with porn is not helpful. It’s kind of an automatic reaction. I watch a hot porn scene, cum and get on with my day. It’s about as exciting as brushing my teeth every morning. This is not leading me towards my goal so I’m trying not to do it as much.

I was in bed and I began to touch myself. I caressed my sides and my belly. I graze my fingertips so lightly on my skin that it raises goosebumps. Then I can feel my nipples harden. When I do it this way, without touching them directly, they get so hard so fast that the skin puckers and crinkles. It sends little shockwaves of nipple sensation through my body. God, I love that sensation.

I pictured a scene in my mind. This is what I saw as I touched myself…

I came home expecting to see Daddy and get a kiss hello but I couldn’t find him. I went into the bedroom and was shocked to find him fucking a hot girl. She was curvy and had great tits. He had her pinned under him, his cock full to the hilt inside her.

It was so hot seeing this but then I was immediately torn with jealousy and pain. He didn’t tell me he was fucking this girl. He’s supposed to tell me about them before he does. My face fell and I just stood there watching and twisting inside.

He turned because he felt my presence. “Strip and kneel slut. This is for you.” Then he went back to fucking her. I stripped my clothes off and knelt near the bed still watching them fuck. My pussy was dripping yet my stomach was still twisting with jealousy. This was for me? He had given me a clue. He was doing this as a scene for us.

Now the girl notices me naked and kneeling on the floor. “That’s hot. Does she do anything you tell her?” At this point Daddy rolled off her and made her get on top of him.

“Of course she does. She’s my dirty little slave. Now, ride me.” She got on top of him and began fucking him. Her tits bounced as she did. Then she started talking to me.

“I’d like a slave slut like you. I’d make you do all sorts of things. Fuck yeah, I would.” Then she moaned and rode Daddy harder. “God I love his cock. It’s a big fat cock, you’re so lucky to get fucked with it all the time.” I twisted some more as she rode him. I was so close to cumming now.

He moaned and I switched to watching him. I love watching Daddy cum. He cried out and shot his load into her. Her tits were bouncing as he filled her. When he was done he looked over to me. “I came for you Darling. You know what you have to do.” I knew but, wow, I had never had his cum that way.

“Get up here and lick it out of her. It’s Daddy’s cum.” I got up in between her legs.

The hottie looked at him then at me. “Fuck yeah, do it!” (I didn’t give her much in the way of a vocab, did I?) I licked her clean then made her squirm and cum herself.

In reality, I had cum when Daddy shot his load but damn I had to finish that scene in my mind while my body was twitching from a really good orgasm.

Homework

So, Daddy gave me a task.  Not the task I never wrote about.  Sorry folks…moving on.  He set me another similar task.  This time, it happened to be on my birthday.

Let me set the scene.  It was a hectic day.  I had family coming to take me to dinner for my birthday.  There was also a work party for me during the day.  All this was wonderful but for some reason I felt harried and stressed.  Probably because the days leading up to my special day were overlong and I was overworked.  My house was trashed and I had no time to clean it for the company that was arriving right after work.  Add the plethora of birthday calls and texts and I was ripe for overload. I know, first world problems. Poor loved thing, how dare they call and write and love me extra well! Sheesh. 

I knew I was on the edge for no apparent reason and blowing my lid at well wishers was bad form so I held it in.  My family all arrived and everyone was talking at me at once, usual family-fest. Right about then Daddy texted.  

“Baby girl, you have homework tonight. You will put in your new anal plug and masturbate for me. Understood?” I read this text while the whirlwind of voices and people whirled around me.  My initial reaction was not submissive at all, lemme tell ya.  Not anywhere near it.  My first thought was, Really? Today of all days?!?

Ok, not my finest submissive moment.  I answered in the affirmative and went back to be being a good hostess all the while I added this news to the jumble in my head. Evil and Angel marked off territory in my mind. 

Daddy is far away and it’s my birthday.  He wants me to feel him today of all days.  

Why am I to perform tasks for his pleasure on my birthday?

It’s not for him you idiot, he wants you to have some fun and some pleasure. 

I’m exhausted now and we haven’t even gone to dinner yet.  How the hell am I going to get rid of this gaggle early enough for this too?

The fight was arduous and ridiculous.  I’d say one side won because it would lend closure to the tale but really they were still at it when I finally got my child to bed and everyone out of the house. 

I laid in bed and thought, okay just close your eyes for a few minutes then do as you’re told. Regardless why he wanted me to or if I wanted to, I’m slave and I must obey.  At that point…you guessed it…I fell sound asleep.

Edging

I took a bath, I wanted to be a clean slut to perform the acts you commanded of me. We are a dichotomy of light and dark, clean and dirty, pure and sinful. This felt right. 

I shaved in preparation.  I wanted to be most pleasing.  Naked and glistening, I knelt at my bedside with lube and a new toy on the bed in front of me.  The plug we use is with you so I found another.  Black as sin, six inches long and made for pleasuring the prostate…it would do. 

I placed it at the tight entrance to my ass, all the tighter for not having been used for a month.  The bulbous head was larger than expected.  I gasped as it stretched me uncomfortably.  I added more lube and finally succeeded.  

The phallus filled my ass.  All the length of it was now buried inside me for you. I knelt at my bed and turned on the vibration.  Yessss, that’s good, I thought.  I wondered if this would push me too far.  I was going to find out.

You told me to think of you, of your cock stretching me, filling me.  I did Daddy and of your hand on my throat, your fingers crowding my mouth as you forced me to look at you, to give you every  possible scrap of my attention. You had it, I am your slave, all of me including my attention is yours. 

I moved to lay on the bed naked, the plug rumbling in my ass.  I touched myself.  I caressed my breasts.  I rolled my nipples and pinched them until they were tight pearls of neediness. I pushed the plug in further until it was to the hilt.  I pulled on it, fucked myself with it for you.  I knew you’d want to Daddy.  

I touched my pussy for you. Smooth, plump and open, the pussy you own responded.  Liquid music flowed from my fingertips to the vibrating plug.  As my fingers danced upon these strings of pleasure, your slut’s body answered the chords you plucked with notes of its own. 

The more your cock invaded my mind the more the notes of my need followed your tune.  The wildness of our fucking was the rhythm to which my body moved.  So hot, so needy, I begged you to pound me with percussive force.  I arched to meet your thrusts and too soon, so soon a crescendo.  

Rippling vibrations flowed over my trembling body.  My fingers stopped, precursing staccato jolts rocked me.  Breathe slave breathe. One refrain played, two more must follow. The tune in my mind shifted.  It was a simple song, one of dark intent.  I felt your heat and your malice flow. I wanted your hidden power…the danger.

You had me on my face, a vice grip in my hair.  My ass raised for you, your words invading my mind.  This stanza would be the devil’s play.  You fill my mind with fear and lay me bare.  Your words dance upon my soul and lift me from the foulest places.  In my depravity, I match yours.  This duet of darkness is all that my soul desires.  Every sinful song I can sing is no match to this, to your power over me.  I am your instrument, a sonnet of sin to be played upon body and soul. 

Again, I reach the edge and a shuddering shaking preamble lays me bare.  I should fear the third and final verse but I don’t.  Far from it.  I am taken away by this piece now, your concerto.  I am your wanton slut, I have taken your drug in full now and like any addict I want more and more and more. 

Eagerly I touch myself, I don’t savor the sounds anymore.  I wallow in the cacophony like a pig in slop.  I have sinned and there is no penance that will bring me back. My fingers slide in the slick smear of juices that have flowed as you played. I want more, I want it all.  I want to bath in your ecstasy, I want it to continue endlessly.  But no!  All too soon, I’m shuddering.  Such a betrayer, my body.  Why so soon?  I wanted this song to play forever.  I stopped touching, I had to or else I’d go over into the abyss. 

A Prayer For Submission

Disturb me, my Master, when I am too well pleased with myself; when my dreams have come true because I have dreamed too little; when I have arrived safely because I have only sailed along the shore.

Disturb me, my Master, when with the abundance of the stresses I endure, I have lost my thirst for the dark passions of life.

Stir me, my Master, to dare more boldly, to venture on wider seas, where storms will show your mastery; where losing sight of land, I shall find the stars.

I beg you to push back the horizons of my hopes and to push me into the future in strength, courage, and love. 

Open my heart to the love instilled there. My Master loves me tenderly. What he owns is to be kept under lock and key or to be shared as is his wish.

The more I hold back the less I will experience. The more I share, the more I will know service. Let me ask Him, when it comes to asking for something, to help me to be willing.

Obey

Daddy and I went on a romantic weekend trip recently.  While we were in town we saw a long time friend of his.  This was the first time I had met his friend and I think it had been many years since Daddy had seen him.

Daddy had told me that they had played sexually before.  Him, his friend (also male) and their wives/girlfriends had all played sexually together. So theirs had been an intimate friendship.  I had never met this friend before but I knew of Daddy’s poly past.  This was one of the reasons we had chosen an open relationship after all. 

Daddy told me that his friend was a breast man and to dress for the occasion.  I chose a low cut dress to honor Daddy and be his arm candy.  I knew Daddy would be pleased to show me off. 

When his friend arrived we talked for a few minutes in the hotel.  Daddy made some direct comments about my body to his friend.  I can’t now remember the exact comments.  I do remember feeling embarrassed by one comment and when I looked at his friend he had the same pained look on his face that I felt on mine. What was Daddy doing? I wondered to myself. 

We left the hotel and went to dinner.  During the long drive they caught up on things with each other. While we were at the restaurant Daddy again made a lewd comment about me to his friend.  I felt rather like a piece of meat.  I tried to understand what he was doing but I didn’t know his friend and I could only sense discomfort from the man.  

Though we all talked about the lifestyle and his friend having been in the local scene in the past, there was no talk or interest from him in playing with us.  As we arrived back at our hotel, I wondered if Daddy was going to make me play with this man.  He had never ordered me to play with anyone before that I didn’t know. 

We had drinks in the hotel bar.  I felt distant from the conversation.  I was perplexed.  What do I do?  Do as Daddy commands with someone I only just met?  I felt very uncomfortable.  Aside from Daddy making off color comments, there was no chemistry here.  There was nothing at all that made me want to play.  Would I obey if commanded?

After drinks we walked back to the room and his friend took his leave.  Daddy thought my goodnight to the man was a brush off.  Honestly, I couldn’t tell you if it was.  It’s very possible because I’d had enough of the uncertainty.  When his friend made noises to leave I happily let him.

I asked Daddy afterwards what he was trying to do.  He said he liked putting people off balance on purpose.  He asked me about my reactions.  He asked if I would have taken an impromptu order to play if it had been given.  He wondered if the unexpected nature of it was more than I could handle and why was this so.

All good questions.  I’ve only been with a few men.  I’m timid by nature and only like to do things that make people happy not uncomfortable. If that friend had been all over the prospects of playing with us would my response have been different? Probably.  

Did I act like the slave I want to be?  No, I didn’t.  Daddy felt disconnected from me.  I didn’t trust the situation but I should have trusted him.  That is my place, to trust and obey.  I did not. 

Empty Days, Full Nights

Freedom awaits

Alone together

Cloistered with Him

Disruptions ceased
 

Walking the tether

His dominance beckons

Aching with a fervor

Desire paramount
 

His will not mine

Mists of sinewy need

Bind and ensnare

Breathless distraction
 

Debased and supplicant

Throbbing and yearning

Petitioning to serve

Whore for pleasure
 

Emotion flourishes

Pain blossoms

Monster unleashed

Exalted in torture

 
Please, I pray

Take, I beg

Use, I entreat

Your will, I serve

I Want

He tweaks my nipple and I want him.  

He left to play golf many many miles away.

I want a facefucking in the worst way.

I want to be used, abused and taken.

I want his cock deep inside me.  

I want his fingers down my throat as he fucks me sore.

I want to be on my knees for him.

I want…

Words

His words oh his words

They take me on a ride 

Through my darkest places

Each syllable caresses

A wave of emotion to ride

Surrounding me within him

The meanings fill me

His dark intent made clear

With loving torture

Each staccato riff cuts

Each baritone whisper soothes

My mind on the knife’s edge

I live in the notes of his play

My soul dances with his 

I am crushed and reborn

He makes me his whore

My identity his to take

Owned and set free

Word by word a new vista

An aural heaven found

Bliss wrapped in care

Evil incarnate cradles me

My psyche in his talons

Inky corridors my home

Fulfilled in his dark depths

Made whole in his realm

Please keep me here forever

Service

  
Service is a very important word for me. I was raised to be a helper for my mother. She ended up divorced and was not well equipped to handle single parenthood.  From a young age, I cared for others. I cared for my brother and my mom. Later, I cared for my husband and later still, my son. Having the concept of caring for others instilled so young, I do it now without at first being cognizant of it.

I used to feel resentful of my mother and having to care for a grown woman. It took me a long time and some growing up to forgive her for relying so heavily on me. I found forgiveness when I grew older and moved away. I learned how to be my own person and was able to see her more clearly. I found a deeper love for her then but that took years.

When my husband would ask more of me than I wanted to give I would feel that resentment again. I would mull over my feelings as I performed whatever duty he asked of me. After a while, I realized that I was the only one suffering from my resentment. I decided that I wasn’t going to say no to the request and so I should learn to like what I was doing and come up with a better reason for doing it than merely keeping the peace. Every time I was asked to do something, I chose to think of how I would feel if someone did that for me. I would feel so grateful. I would be in awe of them for helping me instead of saying no. I chose to be generous of my time. I chose a healthier path. By doing this, I began to see my place in life in a different way.

At work, I also began to change my style of management. I have always worked in business administration. In any business, there is the talent and there is support staff.  I read the book, The Servant, and realized that there was a whole management style built around how I naturally handled things. I began to see that in service I supported my staff. I served them by leading and they served the greater good of the company.

Finally, I found my way into the lifestyle. This is where my character truly found wings. I could serve others truly now. Without the veil of society upon me, I could strip away the façade and be the real me. I knelt at Mr. D’s feet for the first time and it felt so right. It felt like home. I choose to serve and in that service I submit to him and to his desire. I am laid bare as the servant that I am and long to be.

I no longer must hide my service in a veil of acceptable behavior. I can revel in my place at his feet. I can strive to be more than I am and also less. The striving for more is to strive to be all that he wants and desires in a slave. In some respects, I wish to be more than he wants for I know at times he would not demand as much of me as I’d like to give. It is natural for him to be dominant but not as natural to have someone be subservient to him. This is my gift. I wish him to feel so loved, so honored, so fulfilled by my service that he knows at his deepest core how worthy he is of that kind of love. When I say I want to strive to be less, I mean that I wish to put aside my self and my ego to be completely fulfilled within my service. This is not easy. This is the hardest part. Still, I want to explore that too.

Now in the lifestyle I have found a joy in service the wasn’t there before.  I seek for ways to please him and for ways to expand my thoughts on service.  This along with how he chooses to lead me will hopefully combine to bring our dynamic to a whole new level.

Image used with permission through CC3.0 with attribution by Marcus J. Ranum and found here.

Collaring

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My collaring was a simple and 
private matter between us. When we returned from the drive to purchase my collar, Mr. D sat in his big chair and had me sit on the bed in front of him. He put my collar in my hands. He said that this time, unlike the first occasion, he did not have a written contract prepared. He said this was new to both of us and that there would be rules and protocols as we went on but for now I must say anything I wanted or needed to say. Once this was done and I had accepted my collar, I would have no choice.

I held the collar and looked from him to the collar and back. He slumped down in his chair a little more. “I put you on the bed above me so that I would not be intimidating.” How can I not love such a man?

I thought about him and about us. I thought about the most recent stress he put himself through of a three hour round trip on a Friday evening to get the collar for me. I thought about why he was doing this…was it solely for me or did he want this too? I thought about everything and nothing at all. He continued to look at me…waiting. 

“I have absolutely no reservations in accepting this. I want this and I want you.” I’m pretty sure my voice shook a little. I felt nervous speaking. I handed him the collar. I lifted my hair and he tightened the collar around my neck. He made sure it was comfortable on me and that I could breath.

“Now, some rules.  You will choose a special word to mean your collar. When we’re with friends or relaxing and you hear this word you will know that you are to leave what you’re doing, go to the bedroom and put on your collar. You are to strip naked and present yourself for my pleasure.”
I nodded my understanding. 

“Dust.” I said. Our little joke of a feather duster and me dusting for him…that would be my word. He smiled.

The next day I still had my collar on. Even though it is almost tall enough to be a posture collar, I slept in it. I hadn’t wanted to take it off so soon. I felt really self conscious when I went out to the kitchen that morning. The roommates know about our lifestyle and two of them used to be in the lifestyle but they aren’t any longer. I felt very submissive because of the collar. They all said nice things but I really have no idea what they thought. Anyway, it is only between us. None of anyone else’s concern. It felt like I was wearing my heart outside of my body, I felt so vulnerable. It was very eye opening for me. I really and truly felt like his property for the first time.