this girl's journey to become the slave her Master desires
This photo was taken earlier in June when we were on holiday. I love it when Master poses for a Sinful Sunday, even better that this one is in Italy. We travelled to Slovenia, but spent a couple of nights over the border in Italy. This was taken on one of those nights. The following morning it rained, and so there is no complementary photo of me, as we had hoped.
Instead, I give you Master on the Balcony, I would ask you to comment on his skinny legs, but that, would be bratty!
This week’s Wicked Wednesday is about trademarks, for me that means a unique selling point. Something the product or indeed person is known for. Here on this blog my main trademark is my name – MPB, but also the explicit and implicit ways the blog informs the reader who I am.
The title of the blog is Master’s Pleasing Bitch (MPB), but what does that mean? MPB was a name given to me by Master at the beginning of our relationship over 4 years ago.
Let’s be clear, if anyone outside of this relationship called me a bitch, or even a pleasing bitch, I’d probably thump them. Well maybe not, but I would have something to say. What’s more, Master doesn’t go round calling me a bitch in public or in front of family and friends. But during a scene, when we have sex and at other times when we are alone he will refer to me as such. During those times I find the names he calls me ( there are more), arousing. I am turned on by being called his bitch. And from the start that is what he called me.
I wouldn’t be happy if he called anyone else his bitch, though to be honest it could have happened. But I honestly don’t think anyone else will be MPB after me. In terms of the blog, I think people know me as MPB first and then as Julie. At times I worry I should have named the blog something more mainstream, but it does mean people can find me. Plus, it us unique!
Others have written about their branding for their Wicked Wednesday posts – Posyand Indieabout their names and how they came to be. Marie’spost is about about the marketing aspects of her blog and Livvy’s storyis about an actual branding. There are more, but I haven’t had chance to read them yet.
So, where does that lead me? Other than the name MPB, my brand, what other elements of my trademark would be ways I demonstrate I am Master’s slave? I wear his collar and cuff, nipple and clitoral hood piercings as visible signs *the latter not visible to all of course). But always there are unwritten, unsaid signs only he can see . Then there is the blog which is both written and seen. All of these are important ways in which I demonstrate my submission to him and my trademark to everyone else.
I don’t think we spoke on the phone before we met. I’m not even sure we had a voice conversation on MSM (remember that messaging service). Our conversations, and there were many during that week or so, were all text. But on the basis of the things that were said, we met. It was a pub and it was a Saturday afternoon.
Sitting in that pub, with my diet coke (I needed to keep my wits about me and hadn’t eaten) we sat and talked. I probably spoke much more than him. Nerves will have given me verbal diahorrea and I tend to have a lot to say anyway. I can’t remember if I was turned on by his appearance, but possibly not. There was definitely something about him though, his hand on my leg, the smell of him and his voice.
In the most, Master is softly spoken and to me his voice is a little deeper than you expect. He is a slight, slim person but when he opens his mouth there is something about the tone that stops me in my tracks, even now. With the cultured English accent of someone brought up to speak properly, he pronounces his consonants. There is little more sexy in my book than someone speaking dirty in a posh English accent. He knows a lot of stuff, he is (scarily) well read, attended one of the top universities and is intelligent. I love just listening to him speak. True to say, mind that I sometimes drift off and forget to actually listen.
Sometimes too he says things I disagree with, we don’t share the same politics for example. But we can get around that because we have the same values and some how manage to compromise.
Accent, tone of voice or other verbal cues from another can be attractive, sexy or the opposite. But a relationship is never going to develop on that basis. Master doesn’t have a toned and muscly body, he has the thinnest legs of any adult I have seen. But he is strong, fitter than he looks and has a very nice cock, plus he knows how to use it!
He is kind and considerate, looks after me but also keeps me in check. He tells me he finds me sexy and that I turn him on, just at the time I feel worst about my body. There are some irritating things about him: he has to check out facts before he believes the expertise of others and sometimes he still prefers his own view. He gets sidetracked easily so might not get things done quickly. Sometimes he can be brusque, say something another might find offensive – a case of mouth before brain. But I know his heart is in the right place and that he can probably discuss himself out of the hole he has dug.
I never believed I would find another man to be in love with. Master has taught me so much about our dynamic and helped me find out who I am. He has shared his love of books, music, film and travel. In return I have given him myself and my submission, not to mention the benefit of my own wisdom and interests.
My instinct that February day 4 years ago has proved right. I didn’t foresee we would still be together let alone that I would be about to move in with him. But I am and these are just a few of the reasons why.
As the red velvet curtains opened, the stage slowly revolved. The slave’s limbs were firmly secured to a St Andrew’s Cross by fur lined leather cuffs. Her mouth filled with a ball gag secured behind her head. With wide eyes focused on her audience, her mind flashed back an hour.
Master had led her on a leash, naked into the small empty theatre. This place reminiscent of a venue they had visited on her birthday. A circular stage surrounded by 20-30 seats they had sat in the midst of the action. The actors had weaved in and out of the audience making it an intimate, immersive experience. This was how the idea had formed in Master’s mind.
Now though, the seats were filled with smartly dressed men and women, the Dominants. At their feet an equal number of naked submissive people. As the stage slowly rotated and slave realised she knew everyone. Some were mere acquaintances and others true special friends to them both.
Master stepped up to the applause of the group and approached his slave. Tears filled her eyes as he began to stroke her with the fingers of both hands. Starting at her shoulders, moving down her arms, onto her tummy, up to her breasts, circling the nipples. Finally he placed the fingers of his left hand between her legs and stroked the wet, throbbing pussy then leant down to suck her right nipple. She squirmed, bucking her hips towards his fingers. The stage stopped moving.
Standing up he leaned towards her left ear and whispered.
“Darling slave girl, your fantasies are about to be realised” Spit filled her mouth as she tried to speak, to ask what he meant. He grinned and took a vibrating wand in his hand and pushed it into her throbbing pussy and beckoned to a man in the audience. He in turn nodded to the girl at his feet and she stood up, walked purposefully to the stage, stepped up and as previously instructed dropped to her knees.
Master removed the wand and the girl crawled close to the slave. She leaned up and her tongue circled the clitoris of her subject. Slave’s juices began to gush forth, only to be lapped up.
Slave focused on her grinning Master and nodded. Whatever her resovations, Master knew just what she needed. On display, secured to the cross, her previously identified boundaries pushed to the limit. Safe in the knowledge that they shared a secret safe code she nodded again.
Master turned away and invited their friend Ross to take up a flogger and begin the show.
It has been a very long time since this slave felt that she had provided service in the way her Master originally expected.
She isn’t so much disobedient or even unruly (no matter what Master would tell you). But it is about circumstance, timing and yes, laziness, on both sides. But this girl can feel the end of that time in her life coming to an end.
This weekend has been about getting ready for this slave’s future. There will be many more weekends like this until our move is complete. Time when we will be clearing out rubbish, putting things in bags and packing up the things that will be going to Master’s house.
Meanwhile, this weekend, there has been sex, raw passionate sex. And there has been submission time for this this girl naked and open for her Master to take. Clothed without underwear allowing him to have access at any time. A reawakening, a realisation of what might have previously been denied and hidden. His for the taking.
Many months ago, Master bought his girl a tail. She had coveted a bushy tail after seeing one at one of the sexy markets, London Alternative or Birmingham Bizarre Bizarre. One day when the slave arrived at his place, he presented to her. This would be a way for her to show her slutty side and to be his bitch. But, for one reason or another though, probably we were busy and there wasn’t time and it didn’t get used.
On Sunday Master firmly fucked his girl in the ass. The second time in recent weeks as our sex life has taken on new life. The plan was to use the tail for Sinful Sunday, but actually that might have been a little painful. And for one reason and another we didn’t post on Sinful Sunday this week.
On Monday though, the slave finally wore the tail. Still a little sore, inserting the butt plus was a bit of a challenge. But the effect was wonderful, and it won’t be long before that tail comes out again. Maybe she may even wear it out at an event. Till then, here is a photo taken by Master yesterday.
This is the third year that I have participated in Blogging A-Z. This year i am going to try to make my topics a little more mainstream. They will, however clearly link to kink and may on occasion be NSFW.
He cals her girl. This girl; His girl
He is her Master, her Lord and she His slave
She is His slut, His cum puppy. He controls her orgasms, they belong to Him; His.
He is her owner and she His property
People may find this difficult to understand but for her this is fact. She is His to love, to hold and to control.
Her body is pierced for His pleasure; nipples and clitoris. Her pleasure is His to have, to hold and to control.
She wears a collar, His collar. This is a sign of her slavery of His ownership, that she is His property.
She is His Bitch, Master’s Pleasing Bitch
This s the third year that I have participated in Blogging A-Z. This year i am going to try to make my topics a little more mainstream. They will, however clearly link to kink and may on occasion be NSFW.
In an around about way this post is about Dominance and submission. But in particular how they relate to decision making.
I believe I am naturally submissive, and when I appear dominant that is learned behaviour. Being an older sibling, being an extrovert not frightened of speaking her mind and marrying someone unable to make decisions helped. I always preferred that others make decisions especially where they are important and potentially life changing. However since I am not keen on actually being ‘told’ what to do, I haven’t exactly been pushed around . If you won’t be told what to do and at the same time need to decide something then you have to make the decision yourself. Added to that, if you live with someone who hates making decisions and goes out of his way to avoid doing so, then you are pretty much stuffed.
This then, is how I lived my life, unsurprisingly I was often miserable. At work, I took leadership roles, improved my knowledge and over time experience in my chosen field. I felt comfortable making decisions, but found that each days work to be tough, tiring. Not always physically, but emotionally. And then, I would come home, take care of a child and a husband. To get the adult I lived with to decide where to go on holiday or persuade him go out with friends and family was worse. So I took many decisions out of his hands and that often led to conflict between us.
There was more to the failure of our relationship than my being a natural submissive who needed a dominant, but it didn’t help. When I decided to end the marriage I had already dipped my toe into a D/s relationship. Meeting Master only confirmed my initial instincts.
Decision making now is a shared experience. Of course there are many areas of life that I need to retain control of. But when it comes to life changes these are discussed and shared. I still don’t much like being told what to do, but Master has a way of exerting his view and authority without me feeling he is doing so. He is gentle and patient with me, which helps, though we have our moments. He really does hate being told what to do and so I can’t get away with some of the behaviours I used with my ex. That is a very good thing, since I wasn’t always fair on him.
The key now is that I can be myself and I have someone to make decisions with me and often for me. Increasingly I like that.
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This is the third year that I have participated in Blogging A-Z. This year i am going to try to make my topics a little more mainstream. They will, however clearly link to kink and may on occasion be NSFW.
My collar is a key symbol of my role as submissive and slave to Master. It is a constant reminder that he is my Owner and my Lord.
I am not the easiest person to be the Master of, because I am not scared of giving my view and often this comes across as ‘being bratty’. Something Master is often telling me. I aspire to be a better slave, but can’t help but say things that get me into trouble.
But wearing a locked collar, one that needs a key to unlock it, helps. It reminds me of who I am as it rests there against my collar bone. Made of titanium, my collar looks heavier than it is but I can always feel it. Sometimes the back of my neck becomes unbearably warm and I swivel the collar round to cool me down. This is very useful for the menopausal woman, which of course is what I am. I rarely remove it and since it doesn’t set off any alarms at the airport it stays in place even then.
Very few people know the significance of the collar, but they do admire it. Only when we are out and about with lifestyle people, such as at a munch do people know it’s meaning. I love that the people I encounter at such events know that I am Master’s property. And that makes me feel proud and also it helps with my submission.
My collar is a very important part of me and of our relationship.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
