Finding Me PT 2

My First Master

(This really won’t make much sense unless you’ve read the earlier posts!)

Meeting Mark and going with him, not knowing where or what, was a rush of excitement like I had never felt before. It was scary, but at the same time, I felt calm.

It wasn't until we were walking from his car to His apartment and a man passed by us, smiling, that I realized my big, saggy boobs were out in the open for all to see. Mark smiled and told me not to cover up. I tried to protest, but he stopped me with his finger to my mouth.

Once inside his apartment, he pointed to the kitchen, which was separated by a bar, telling me to get us both some beers while he went to the bathroom. I did as He commanded without even thinking.

He came back carrying some books: The Story of O, The Marketplace series, and The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty, books one and two. He said book three was trash.

We sat and talked for hours. I curled up on the couch in his lap as we talked. His hand often found its way onto a hard nipple he liked to pull to see my reaction.

He told me why He thought I was a slave and not just a submissive. It was my enthusiasm while serving, as he told me.

He told me that He wanted to be my Master and that he would train me. I had until morning to decide. It was going to be all or nothing. I fell asleep in His arms and woke up in his bed with His hard cock wedged between my butt cheeks. Still waking up, I pulled away.

I had never woken up with a man's cock trying to fuck me before. It was a new and wonderful feeling. But what I really wanted was that cock in my mouth. I wanted to taste his cum, or what he would call my reward. I would love to have that as my first meal of the day. The first meal of my new life.

The night before, he told me that being a slave is different than being a girlfriend. The emotional state is different. A slave serves her Master out of need and respect, without any desire for reciprocation. The Master’s happiness and his pleasures are all that matter.

Meanwhile, with a submissive, she still has that choice, a little control, and a say in some things. To anyone else, that may sound like a line from a bad porn movie. But for me, it was the truth.

Swallowing His come and seeing Him smile, I realized he was right. I sucked His cock because it was the right thing for me to do. That was it. I wanted nothing in return.

Yes, I stayed. He bought me my first collar and leash. He taught me how to worship his cock, not just suck it. We went to parties and clubs as master and slave. He would tie me to a post up on stage, whip my boobs, torture my nipples, and fuck me while others watched and cheered. I was soaking it all in and loving every minute of it.

After almost a year, he started to pull away. Sex and submission became more of a bedroom-only thing. Then came the “But we can still be friends” speech, which I would hear several more times in the future as he walked away with a hot blond party girl he had just met.

I was hurt but not as devastated as I thought I would be. I was now hooked and knew what I wanted in a man. I was now on a hunt for a new master, one who would take me as his slave. Most wanted that girlfriend outside, a submissive plaything in the bedroom.

I wanted more. I wanted what I read in those books. For my Master to be my Master 24/7. I didn't want just the whips, chains, and being fucked while tied down to the bed. I wanted to be that slave who made his life easier and better. I wanted to be there on the floor when he came home and the last thing He touched before bed.

I also found I have a high pain tolerance for some things. I wanted to be punished hard when I did wrong. I wanted to be teased with sex but not allowed to have it(occasionally). But the more I revealed my slave desires to my current master, the more pushback I received.

For most men, having a free-use slave in their apartment is fun for a while. But as reality set in, they found it wasn’t as easy as the movies made it seem. They were good for a few weeks, maybe a couple of months, then they were gone.

When I turned 28, I was moving up the corporate ladder for a major fashion retailer. I always smiled and teased the other girls who made fun of me: Yes, we fat chicks don't need bedroom skills to get promoted!”

I had my office in a tall building on the Miracle Mile. My office windows looked out over Lake Michigan. I found myself in a place I had never imagined I would be. But I wasn’t as happy as I should have been.

I had a career I never dreamed I could have and was making more money than almost anyone in my family. A few boyfriends would occasionally come over to scratch my itch. They liked to get kinky for a couple of hours, whip me, spank me, make me say naughty things, then leave. I was their kinky cumdump. It worked because we both achieved our immediate goals.

But every day, after work, I would go home to an empty loft. That got old fast. What I wanted was to come home, get naked, and kneel at the feet of my Owner. I would leave everything else “out there” and focus on making him happy.

One night, I was out with a girlfriend who knew my kinky side. Over a couple of fruity drinks, I finally confessed. I told her, “No more.” Time for a sabbatical. She laughed. But I was serious. No more men, no more part-time submissions. If I couldn't find my dream, Dom, I vowed to spend the rest of my life as a celibate old lady!

And I did that for two years.

More to come.

…..

This is my life, and I love it.
Love,
Bitch slave

(please leave me your comments and thoughts or questions)