Sexual Service

I am kneeling over the sofa. Wearing only a top. My arse and labia are visible and exposed.

I am a sex slave. My role to Master is to provide him with sexual service when he requires it. But also to be ready for him to use me when he wishes. This post is a work of fiction based on a limited amount of reality but mostly reading, fiction and non fiction.

My word of the day is RULES. Every day Master texts me a word or occasionally phrase while we are both at work. At the weekends, if we are home he tells me the word. Corner time is at 4pm which is shortly after I arrive home. I remove my clothes and then kneel on the floor in a corner of our room on a carefully placed pillow. Knees wide, back straight and hands behind my head. The purpose is for me to concentrate on my word while naked and vulnerable. To think about the meaning of the word and it’s relation to my service.

I know the rules by heart. I know that the key purpose of my role as Master’s sex slave is to be his slut and to provide him with sexual service. The rules are in place to make sure I do just that.

Rule number 1

I shall always be available for his use. This means that I do not wear underwear unless he says I should. In effect this means wearing a bra at work. At home I am often naked, unless we expect visitors or it is very cold. I also wear an apron when cooking. There is a certain vulnerability to never wearing panties, especially when I am aroused or hot. I often think others can small my cunt, though no one has ever mentioned it. When sitting I am not to cross my legs, often Master will tell me to sit with them wide open, even when we are out. This can be humiliating, but also a massive turn on.

When he decides I am to provide sexual service, to be used, which is most days, I must thank him. I beg him to use my holes, to come inside my slut body. Or, of course outside if he wishes. Whichever I thank him for the gift of his come.

Rule number 2

I am not allowed to touch my cunt nor come without permission. However Master tells me to touch myself often for his pleasure. This is fine when we are home alone together, less easy when we are out or have people over. Often when we are out eating dinner I will have been instructed to play with my clit. To bring myself close to climax, to edge. One hand on my fork and another on my lap, or so you may think. Other times it will be his fingers that stroke and tease. He studies me closely, watching my cheeks grow pink. He’ll then make me come when we get into the car, there in the car park or by the side of the road.

I am able to control my orgasms quite well, even when he uses the wand on me. But I really have to focus, to concentrate on my submission and remember that he is the owner of my body and my orgasms. He takes great pleasure in making me come the moment he demands. I don’t know how he does that!

Rule number 3

He is known to me as Master or Lord and I am this girl, slut or slave depending on his desires. I understand the meaning of this. I am nothing but the name Master choses to call me. Of course I have a name at work or when with family or vanilla friends. But always I know that I am property. His and his alone. He is my Lord and Master. I worship him and await his need to use me. That isn’t to say that I am not loved, cherished and cared for. Sometimes I am his pet, often his lover. He takes care of me, cooks for me, takes me to lovely places and buys me things. That he owns me is calming, reassuring. It makes me feel safe, wanted. His.

Rule number 4

I have a number of daily tasks, these sometimes change. Each morning I suck his cock if required. I also stand or sit in the shower or bath while he pees on me. I can’t say I enjoy it but I am used to it. It is warm and I have come to appreciate the feeling. I find it arousing, indeed humiliation to me is a massive turn on. After a shower and I have shaved my pussy, legs and underarms, I insert the plug he has chosen for me. This is worn for 2-3 hours so is removed in the bathroom at work. I dress in the way he wishes, often looking quite demure from the outside.

Throughout the day we keep in contact. Be both have busy and demanding jobs, but text a few times. There is usually a photo for me to take and send though.

Rule number 5

I kneel and present myself when Master arrives home

My working day is until 3pm. This fits in well with my sexual service duties and also those around the house. As mentioned above I spend half an hour in quiet contemplation before moving on to any house work and meal preparation. That’s not to say Master doesn’t do his fair share of house work etc. Because he does. He is particularly responsible for food shopping and this is one area where I tell him what might be needed.

Master texts me as he leaves work or the shops and I then prepare for his homecoming. This is a special time for us both. I kneel in the living room and wait in readiness for him. He greets his slave and inspects my body and asks for details of my day. Then he goes to change while I start dinner or put things away. Then he will open wine and we’ll often share the cooking chores.

There was a time when I would spend the evening at his feet while we watched TV or played music and chatted. But now I’m that bit older the sofa has become a better place to be, for us both.

Our evenings tend to be like most other peoples. Except I am usually naked and he is likely to be stroking some part of his property or making me suck his cock as he feels appropriate. Often we will retire to the play room where Master will restrain his slave and torture me. Pain and pleasure are such amazing bedfellows.

This is the life I chose

When we met, I quickly learned what life would be like if we came together as a couple. Master and slave. He was clear that it was a sex slave he desired. One he could use for his pleasure, whether sex or play. We discussed and wrote down our kinks and fetishes. On the day of our collaring ceremony I gave myself willingly to him. My limits are now his. Most decisions (outside work and my family) are his. The body that belonged to me is now his, as are the orgasms and control. He has total power over me and this is the life I chose. My role is to provide sexual service to my Lord.

Fucked on a picnic table

This story is loosely based on fact. I really was fucked on a picnic table in the woods while wearing a leather collar and leash. But the rest of it is part of my fantasy of what might have happened that day. Content warning: Consent Non-consent (CNC), Humiliation.

I am kneeling on the seat of a picnic table. My dress is pulled up to my waist and I am exposing my bottom.
A throwback picture not linked to the original event

A story of being fucked on a picnic table

If ever you go into the woods and stumble across a picnic table, do you wonder who was there before you? What might have happened here? And before you sit down and unwrap the sandwiches you might want to get out the wet wipes, because maybe the last people here fucked on that picnic table.

We met in the car park. As instructed I was wearing a summer dress, sensible shoes and nothing else. Although it was only around 10am the sun was high in the sky and it was warm. In those days I was yet to acquire a car with air conditioning, the open windows did nothing to cool my throbbing cunt. Anticipation rather than heat was at work here. You see, I had no idea what was in store for me. The man I was meeting was very keen on fantasy games and I was his willing victim.

I travelled light, apart from the lack of clothing I only carried a small bag, containing my purse and other essentials. Stuff you don’t really need in the woods (my phone maybe, but signals were poor). He carried a largish rucksack, containing lunch and who knew what else. Not me at that point anyway. He took my bag and put it inside his.

Of course he felt me up in the car park, in front of anyone who happened by, though I can’t remember if any one did. We hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks and we had the hots for each other. I might have fucked there and then if he had requested it. He put a leather collar around my neck and attached a leash, there in the middle of the car park. Then he walked me into the dense woodland and once inside, blindfolded me.

Completely dependent on him I followed his instructions about where to step. Periodically the leash would pull tight and I’d almost stumble. But as instructed I was silent. Concentrating on the sounds and smells of the forest. I had no idea if others were around us and was both humiliated and excited at this sign of my submission. I lingered on the edge of orgasm, made worse as my cunt leaked fluid that caused my thighs to slide together as I walked. I momentarily wondered if I would be permitted an orgasm today.

Suddenly he told me to drop to my knees, as I did so the collar pulled tight against my neck. I assumed the required pose, my knees wide, hands resting loosely on them. I heard some rustling and knew what was in store. Obediently I opened my mouth to take the cock that was thrust into it. I savoured the saltiness of his pre-cum and the very size of what filled my mouth.

“Good cunt” he groaned at me. I concentrated on sucking, my mouth wide and drool already running down my chin. His fingers reached inside my summer dress and pinched my left nipple. “take me girl, take this cock” He said as I felt a sharp pain, a clamp now pinched my breast. I groaned around the huge dick filling my mouth and tensed as pain throbbed through both breasts. For a while I was lost giving him the pleasure he demanded.

He pulled away and pulled me to my feet. His fingers groping for my clit, large and engorged, before pushing two into my dripping cunt. “you are such a wanton slut aren’t you” he asked. I nodded, because it was true. I was and am. “what do you want slut?” he asked. “speak”.

“Your cock Sir”

“Come” he gently pulled on the leash and I followed. My knees knocked into something hard and putting my hands out I felt wood. I ran my hands over the grain. “It’s a picnic table” I could hear him grinning. “We can have lunch here, but first, I’m going to fuck you on it.

Sir Helped me kneel on the seat and then to lean over it. He secured rope around my wrists and tied me to the table. I was now unable to move, though had no desire to do so. I felt his cock pushing into my soaking cunt as I lay secured to the table top. My knees were grazed a little by the wood. My nipples, with the clamps still attached sending ripples of pain through my body. He took his pleasure from me. A wanton slut, blindfolded and collared. Unaware that behind her there were 3 men watching and wanking.

Because as well as taking care about the cleanliness of a picnic table, you should also beware of mentioning your fantasies. Such as the one about being fucked in the woods while others watch.

To be continued!

Master's plaything

This would have been a great image for this objectification post from last week. But I wanted to save it for February Photofest. I’m not really sure why this hasn’t been featured before, but really happy to include it now. This was also taken at the secret Dungeon

As you can see my nipples are clamped, plus there is the hood and lead. I was definitely Master’s plaything that night!

Objectification in our relationship

Me wearing a dog mask.

I’ll start by saying that I’d decided not to write for this prompt on Tell Me About, because I have nothing to say. But a conversation with Master reminded me that actually it is part of my life. Somewhere over the past few weeks I’ve forgotten, partly because objectification is just an every day part of our lives.

When I wrote this post it was all new. I’d recently learned that being called a slut or bitch turned me on. Being ‘this girl’ made me smile because it confirmed my role as his slave. Somewhere in the mists of time I’d forgotten that he objectifies me by calling me those things. Of course I haven’t forgotten that I love it, but it’s just we’ve settled into our lives and roles over time.

When I refer to myself as his bitch, it turns him on. That is just a small part of our power exchange. But also it’s key to our Sex Life. Power equals sexual arousal for him and the knowledge of my submission to him still makes me wet.

We use objectification during play, especially when we have space. A few times we’ve stayed overnight in a dungeon and used the facilities to bring that side of us out. Master bought me a dog mask and tail and I have enjoyed wearing them for his pleasure. Dungeons often contain cages and he loves to watch me as I lie there feeling degraded and horny.

That’s the whole thing about degradation and objectification. It feels wrong and right at the same time. We shouldn’t get off on wearing a dog mask or wearing a leather collar and lead. But we do. To begin with that was puzzling to my previously vanilla brain. But over time I’ve embraced my kinks and delighted in the reaction they have on him. The fact that he fancies the pants (if I’m wearing any) off me is a thrill in itself. That his kinks involve objectifying me is especially exciting.

Recently we attended a new club. There was a woman wearing an entire dog costume and being led on a lead. I don’t think I’d want to do that, but I found it fascinating. Then there was the guy wearing a pony saddle and giving people rides on his back. Those places can be a thrilling insight into other people’s kinks. And even if it isn’t your thing it is mighty interesting to watch and see. But also it shows you what you could try out if you so desired. This world of kink is rarely dull!

Humiliation

One of the first things I learned on my submissive journey was that I enjoyed being humiliated in a sexual way. Against even my own expectations I enjoyed being called a slut or bitch. Early in my relationship with S I was expected to dress in clothing that would usually be restricted to the bedroom. Or to drive to meet him with my skirt pulled up around my waist. I found myself buying clothing I usually considered too short for my age. Then, when I wore them out with him and he whispered that I was a whore, I felt turned on rather than horrified. These were all revelations to me.

In July 2012, I wrote about our first date:

On our very first date, on that first night. i dressed in a short skirt, which only just covered my stockings and suspenders. i wore black heeled shoes that i could barely walk in and i walked into a bar and ordered a drink. i sat at a table and waited until Sir who i had barely met in person came into the bar and asked to join me. He had us move to another table with lower chairs where he could observe and touch me more easily and then we tried to engage in normal ‘we’ve just met and are just having a chat’ conversation while he ran his hand up my stocking top in pretty much full view of the bar.

This was humiliating, sir told me later that i was a slut for doing it, but i loved it. The whole time experiencing a combination of blind panic and amazing exhilaration.

17 July 2012

That relationship was characterised by such behaviour. I loved and embraced it. Though I am not sorry that Master is not into stockings and heels. In a way, it was all part of the journey to the submissive woman and slave I am now.

Humiliation now

At the beginning Master told me he preferred me to wear no underwear. The idea that people might see I was wearing no knickers or bra was both thrilling and scary. He likes to touch me in a public place and to photograph me. Often people aren’t far away. The possibility of discovery is one of the things I both love and hate, but mainly love. I’ve not been out without underwear since my mastectomy, but it is something I plan this summer.

In the bedroom, playroom or club he likes me to wear clothes he considers sexy. These tend to be leather harnesses, a net dress or something similar. Kink wear feels natural in those environments, but outside they feel less so.

But the main way in which Master likes to humiliate me is through the use of certain words. That is where Master’s pleasing bitch comes in. Soon after I became his slave, Master renamed me His pleasing bitch. The use of this name and also calling me girl were designed to show that it was he that was important rather than me. It was almost that I didn’t need a specific identity. Instead my whole role was to please him and to be the bitch he wanted and needed.

Being treated as ‘just’ slave was humiliating and degrading. But also it was completely liberating. Suddenly I was able to leave my identity as Julie behind, including the baggage of life. Instead I could just be MPB or this girl.

Reflections on humiliation in this M/s relationship

In my past relationship, humiliation was about looking slutty and being called names. Rather than hate it, I loved it. But the dressing up part was a kind of role play and still is.

Now, I am always slave. But there is still the need for ritual to get into the right mindset. The burdens of every day life remain, along with the responsibilities that go with them. So we engage in a ritual where I tell him who and what I am. During this I recite that: this girl is his bitch, his pleasing bitch. That he is this girl’s Master and that he controls her limits.

While this is most often immediately before sex or play, that doesn’t mean that it can’t occur at other times. It is humiliating to recite this mantra, but also it reaffirms that I am his slave and always will be.

Wayback when

I have a few photos that were taken before I regularly posted anything of myself. Wayback then, I was a little more worried about showing pictures of myself. Especially those of me in a somewhat compromising situation. Things have changed over the years.

This photo was taken at the very beginning of our relationship, almost exactly 5 years ago. At the end of our second or third playdate (I think). What you can’t see here (and I might show it another day) is my red pussy which had just been pumped. Not only did he clamp my nipples, but also used the zipper and spreader bar. The intensity of pain and of pleasure that day is something I can still remember even though I am short on details. It may have happened wayback when, but this is the first time I have shared this photo here.

February Photofest

A landmark event for MPB – Public Play

Sunday was our second visit to CMnf. This twice yearly event, held at a kink club is for Male Dominants and female submissives and is one where the man is clothed, the female naked.

This was actually our third visit to the club because we also attended a pre-Christmas event. On both previous visits one or other of us had been in the throws of a cold / virus or just recovering. This time though we were both fully fit and so Sunday marked our first public play event. Master took along some of his favourite toys to use on his slave.

Arrival

As soon as we arrived, I went off to change. Last time, it was pretty cold in the main play / seating area and so I decided to wear stockings and heels. I was otherwise naked. My fellow female subs and slaves ranged from being totally naked to wearing body jewellery, under breast corsets and other lingerie. The men of course were all wearing suits. It took me just moments to lose any inhibitions and as I sat chatting I forgot I and they were naked.

A main topic was the previous weekend’s eroticon as a number of us had been there. It was lovely to catch up with Molly, Michael and Cara and Sub Bee and her partner among others. Except for Cara who was there for the first time, the others are seasoned CMnf attendees. We also chatted to a couple of other couples we have met there before. To be frank, I am beginning to feel I really belong there.

Public Play Time

We hadn’t eaten lunch before arriving at the club on Sunday. Caused by drinking a little too much wine, a late night and losing an hour’s sleep. So we waited until we had eaten a little of the buffet provided. Meantime, we watched others playing, chatted and Master kept me warm with a few strokes of his fingers.

At last it was time for us to play. He wanted to violet wand me first so cuffed and blindfolded me and secured me while seated to a bench. I struggled to relax. It was such a long time since we had indulged in impact play and it was going on all around me. I wanted to enjoy the violet wand and to take the orgasms granted me, but needed impact more.

So we moved to a bench that I could lie on. As the flogging began, I began to relax and enjoy my submission in a way I haven’t in such a long time. As usual I have little idea of the toys he used. Some were more pleasant than others but all were received with pleasure and relief. Well, maybe not pleasure exactly but certainly they were welcome. I noticed the sound of other floggers and impact objects hitting my fellow subs. Sometimes everything appeared to hit home in unison. I found the sounds comforting.

Afterwards I felt floaty in a way I haven’t in a long time. I actually refused an orgasm during play, but had been given several earlier that morning.

Thoughts

For a long time I have been anxious that public play would make me self aware in a way I didn’t like. Even knowing I am an exhibitionist who has previously enjoyed public humiliation. My fears were not recognised and I absolutely loved the experience. It helped to have been able to get to know the environment, the people and to watch others. But now it has happened to me, I want this much more. I really hope that Master decides to take me to other places where we can play in public but that we return to CMnf next time.
Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

SCC Prompt #185 Humiliation and Degradation

There is something about humiliation and degradation that works for both of us. It is about placing this girl in situations where she is made to dress in a way that others might find inappropriate. So for us, that will be no underwear, or clothing more fitting to a much younger women. It is about being touched in public in a way that might be seen as inappropriate. It is about peeing in public. It is about knowing that this girl has piercings that are there for His pleasure. It is about the collar and its meaning.

It is about many things. Our relationship holds humiliation and degradation as a central place in our dynamic, but for us it doesn’t have the effect that you might expect. Instead it is a turn on for us both. It is something that we need.

For this girl, as we approach a new summer, the excitement grows. The chance to begin to expose her body, the chance to be more daring again, the chance to show Master how much she loves to expose her body in the way He loves and approves of is very exciting.

This girl knows that she finds humiliation and degradation a turn on whether it relates to play or a permanent relationship. But she also knows that the latter means so much more. She knows also that she would love this to be part of her life on a permanent basis.

This morning, Master described a fantasy where His girl spent much more of her life naked, or just wearing an open shirt. Where she was available to Him at all times. He could then stretch her nipples, and spend time touching them. He could pull the chains on her genital piercings (soon to turn from 1 to 3 or maybe 5) and when she would be in no doubt 24 hours a day that she was His slave. That forms part of this girl’s greatest desire.

When humiliating and degrading terms just turn you on

The word ‘cunt’ is quite taboo within society. It is indeed one of the few words that will cause a TV company in the UK to use their ‘bleeper’ even after the watershed. Cunt was a word that really didn’t feature in my vocabulary until the last couple of years. If anyone had told me a couple of years ago that I would easily and willingly be referring to myself as Master’s cunt, or this cunt then I would have laughed in their face.

I have been through a massive learning process about myself, one I am only beginning to recognise. Firstly it was about learning to refer to myself in the third person as this girl. To begin with the fact that Master referred to me at all times in that way was difficult to get used to. Using that terminology when referring to myself was even more troublesome, it isn’t hard to think and write ‘this girl’ but saying it out loud in normal conversation is more challenging. But over the months I have gradually found that it can become the norm when the other person in your relationship always uses those terms. But using words that you once considered derogatory to describe yourself take some getting used to.

To begin with, once in a sex and orgasm induced place it felt ok to call myself a slut, or a bitch, or even a cunt. But generally it required Master to lead the conversation, to have me repeat who I was to him. Just recently that seems to have changed.

I feel that I am beginning to embrace my place in our relationship. I am his slave, his property. What is more, I am that slut – my behaviour with him is slutty and what is more I love being that slut. But I am not just his slut, actually I recognise that my body is his and I am his bitch. Just this morning during sex, my animal instinct took over and it was clear to us both that in that moment I was his bitch – not only did I perform in that way, but I told him without prompting that I was his bitch.

Over the last few weeks it seems too that I have begun to embrace the cunt in me. I am always ready for him, to be touched but also to be fucked. The holes that live within me but belong to me are his. I am his cunt, whether it be the mouth cunt, cunt cunt or arse cunt. That is who I am and I am proud of that fact.

This journey has been thrilling and exciting, but at times difficult. I doubt that I will ever stop learning how to be Master’s slave, but I am clear that the place I am now is as His cunt. What is more, terms that used to feel humiliating are now the norm. They are not just words they are the reality of this cunt, this slave. What is more, they turn her on.

This feels like a vicious cycle of some kind!

The joy and the pain

I am not alone in having a rule within my Master / slave relationship that underwear is only worn with permission when we are together. This is something I have embraced even when it makes me feel open and exposed. After all, that is the point. It serves as a reminder to me about who I am. As well as offering Him open access to my body as and when He wants it. Over the winter, I have to admit that my naked body has been covered more often than not by trousers and jumpers. And, when wearing a dress, by opaque tights. So the trip to Spain and the rising temperatures after the first couple of days meant that once again I could wear just one item of clothing and my shoes.

On these occasions Master loves to get His girl to expose herself to Him and to take her photo. As He has here. The photo on the left was, as you can see, taken by the side of the road. We were high up in the hills having stopped to take a look at the views. These were great despite being shrouded in some mist. Shortly after the photo was taken, a group of boys enjoying a Sunday morning walk turned the corner.

It is the riskiness of these situations that gives me the most excitement, exhibitionist that I am. The photo on the right was taken an hour or so before, while we looked around the excavated ruins of a Moorish city. The place was full of tourists, even though you can’t tell from the picture and therefore the risk of being seen while a slave exposes herself to her Master is high. It is climbing steps though, when the breeze catches that I find most pleasurable. Especially when a hand is placed on your bottom in pretty much full view. Yep, it is true, this slave is a slut!

But walking around in a hot place, wearing no underwear can be painful. Or rather the after effects can be. Later that day we walked around the town of Cordoba, enjoying the start of the Easter parades and for the first time on the trip the temperature rose to close to 30c. I am not the slimmest of people, so chafing is always a concern but also standing around in a hot place I began to perspire.
With no underwear to absorb the sweat I felt moisture running down my groins and then the tops of my legs. The result was that by the end of the day I had sore groins and I felt compelled to ask for permission to wear underwear for the next couple of days while things healed. In future, I am going to take with me a little rescue pack – some wet wipes, moisturiser and some pants – I love to be the slut Master wants, but the pain of sore groins and chafed upper legs is not the kind of thing I really enjoy.