Submission

I stood up and stripped off my clothes. He sat up straighter, unfastened his belt and began to unzip his trousers. We were both a  little drunk, but there was no harm in that since this was about sex and submission.

Master’s cock was hard, not really surprising since his slave was now kneeling naked before him. As I took the full shaft in my mouth, not even gagging. I took a moment to wonder if alcohol helps suppress the gag reflex. His cock tasted amazing as I coated it with my gin infused saliva.

He took my hair in his hands and kept my head still making me savour the taste and feel. With such a full mouth I could do little more. His hand gripped my breasts, caressing  the nipples as they hardened to his touch.

Following his request, I pulled my mouth free and climbed up onto his lap. I sat down on the hard cock and it slid easily inside. No tightness, no pain; if only it were always this easy. But, never mind. As I rode him, his hands moved over my body which was sensitised to every touch.

As is his way in these situations, he asked me to tell him who I am- Master’s Bitch, his slut his slave  – the response. And he, my Lord and Master.

It is in situations like this that my submission comes to the fore. There is no longer space to think and to wonder. Just a place to be His slave, His slut, His property.

My reward? The granting of orgasms; lots and lots of orgasms. Each one rolling in, starting deep inside my cunt, a wave of emotions throbbing through my body bringing his gift. Submission.

Because the link between the power he has over me, the orgasms he permits and my submission are absolute. In those moments there is nothing else in my world other than Lord and slave.

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