Finding Me Pt 8

My New Home, My New Life

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

I was so anxious (and wet) to finally return to where I knew I belonged - at HIS feet.

For me, that had to be the longest plane ride in history! Going from Chicago to Phoenix, Arizona, is usually a four-hour flight. Today, it seemed like the pilot decided to take the long way around.

First, it was the leaving Him that was painful. Then, He had me wait thirty long days to decide if I wanted to be His slave. Sorry, I had made that decision before I landed back in Chicago. Now, it was this god-forsaken long plane ride. I just wanted to return to my happy place, which wasn't in Chicago.

I saw him there when I finally arrived and headed for baggage claim. Tall, dark, and handsome, he was dressed as if he had just come off the range roping cattle or something: a day-old shave, a Western-style dark shirt, blue jeans, and shiny cowboy boots—boots I couldn’t wait to kiss.

He was standing next to the baggage carousel. As I approached him, he grabbed me and hugged me. He was giving me a wonderfully luscious kiss to welcome me home. Is luscious kiss a word? He handed me a small bouquet of roses as he grabbed my bag.

He looked at me inside his truck and asked if I was ready for a new life. It was a silly question. “Yes Master!’ A phrase I was going to be saying a lot from now on. “Good. Remember my rule about riding in a vehicle? The top is down, and your bare ass is on the seat.” He kept the truck in the park while he waited for me to follow the new rules.

I was hesitant. Right here in the parking lot of the airport, he wanted me topless. His look got a little tougher, so I decided I better do as I was told. As I unbuttoned my blouse, I removed my bra; we got a couple of thanks from cars passing by. My saggy boobs were now free and out in the open desert sunshine. He reached over and grabbed one. “Gawd, I love those things!” was his response.

Once I was topless, he backed out of the parking spot and headed for the gate. I was nervous as we approached the pay booth. I tried to cover up, but the look he gave me told me I better just let them see me topless. The old man in the booth was slow to take the money as he eyed me and smiled. “Enjoy the day,” he said as he handed Master the receipt but kept his eyes on my boobs.

Master smiled at me and told me I was a good girl and that I probably gave the old man a hard-on. I thought for a second about that comment. I felt good with that comment—I really did! This fluffy chick just gave an old man in a toll booth something to smile about during his boring day. Maybe this topless thing in public isn’t so bad after all.

From moment one, I have always felt safe with Him, safe to do things I normally wouldn’t do, not that I had a choice anymore. I’m a slave now. There was certainly no going back. I am 1800 miles away from my vanilla life and have no reason to look back. I promised Him that I was his slave from the moment the plane landed, and that is what I am doing, being HIS slave.

He stopped at a convenience store to get a drink. I think it was more of a test, an opportunity to show off His slave and to see if I would cover up when others walked by. A few people walking by looked in, and I knew they could see, but I kept my eyes on him in the store, letting them look.

When He got back in the truck and started it up, He opened his pants and pulled out his cock. As we drove off, He smiled at me. “Well?” was all he said as he took a drink of his Coke. I leaned over, under his driving arm, and took His cock into my mouth and started to suck it.

He informed me that this was the first of many blow jobs I would be doing for the next thirty days. “Your first lesson is how to suck a cock anywhere, anytime, anyplace you are told to. So for the next thirty days, the only sex you're going to get is my cock in your mouth.”

In no time, we were at a red light, and He pushed my head all the way down on his cock as he shot his load down my throat. This was the only time I loved red lights! He held me down on His cock until we were in his garage.

That is the one thing I loved about my Master. His word is always followed. If he says he will do something, he will do it. For thirty days, I gave a blowjob in many different vehicles, in every room of the house. In clients' homes, in parks, and in every position imaginable. He would stop and correct me if I did not do it as he liked.

I know he wanted to stop a few times and just fuck me (he told me later). But he was staying with his training plan—blowjobs only for thirty days.

• No Hands. I can hold the cock, but not stroke it while I am sucking it. “That’s cheating!”

• Learn to get the tongue down to the ball sack without cock leaving the mouth. I can almost get there!

• Sucking cock is mandatory; breathing is optional. This was drilled into my head often when he woudl hold my head all the way down on His cock, then let me up for a brief second to let the drool escape before he pushed me back down, closing my airways.

• Swallow every drop, no matter what. Nothing is wasted. If he pulls out and shoots his load elsewhere, I will lick it up. If I miss anything, I am punished.

• He would even wake me out of my sleep and shove his cock down my throat before I could even realize what was going on. I learned to accept if I am being awakened, it’s for a blow job.

He always said, “When you suck a cock...” He always phrased it to remind me I woudl be only serving His cock, but He had plans to share me with others. So when I suck someone else cock, think of Him. I was doing this to please my master. The person He was sharing me with would report back to him, and it better be all five stars.

I would be loaned out as a sexual slave as well as a domestic slave. So I was training to serve anyone He told me to, not just him. I am being trained to serve.

At first, I was scared. He would let others use me, and I had no say in it? Anyone could just tell me to bend over, and they could fuck me?? I was about to yell “red”.

Thankfully, he saw the fear in my eyes and assured me it would be gradual. Only people he approved of would have limited access to me. If I trust him, I should trust his friends.

He explained that he has a few close friends with whom he shares almost everything with. He trusts them not to harm or damage his property, which I guess now includes me.

They would have limits, be verified to be clean, and respect any limits he puts on them. They know this is a special gift. That if they fuck it up, they will lose that access to me. So they will play by His rules. Use me, but not abuse me. Stay within His limits, and they get to use me again some other time. If not? I was no longer available for them to use.

When he put it that way, I felt a lot safer. I was still nervous and a little scared, but the idea started to feel ok. You never know until the moment happens.

Getting Married

Although we both agreed this was a Master/slave relationship from day one, we needed some legal protection. So we went down to the Justice of the Peace and had a simple wedding.

I was dressed in a simple white dress, a bridal veil, and no panties. He allowed me to wear a bra when I was inside the chapel. He was dressed in clean blue jeans that I pressed just before we left the house, a white shirt, a bolo tie, and a western-cut dark sports jacket. His two best friends stood as witnesses.

The words “To love, protect, and to lead” were in his vows.

“To Love, Honor, and Obey” were in mine.

Afterward, he reminded me that I was still only His slave. Nothing more. Smiling. I replied, “Yes, Master!” followed by a nice big wet kiss! I had to pinch myself several times to make sure this was real!

After the “I Do’s,” we all went home for a celebration. His friends were all there waiting for us. Once inside the house, I was ordered to get naked and start serving drinks and snacks. I was allowed to wear the veil as I was serving!

For one of the only times in my adult life, I truly felt welcomed and wanted by others. They never judged me for my body size or anything other than the fact that I made their friend happy. They just accepted me as their friend. I was a slave, but a slave that they were friends with.

To live out in the open like this was so refreshing. I was in Phoenix, Arizona. I was now married to a wonderful and sexy man, I was his slave, and I was now standing naked on my wedding day, serving his friends drinks and snacks.

For some, that may seem like a nightmare. For me, it was something I could have never dreamed I would be doing, and enjoying every minute of it.

The best part was all these wonderful people were acting as if all of this was an everyday thing.

Master’s rule was that I was to allow the guest free reign to enjoy me. I was not allowed to protest or refuse. Many of them liked to stop me after serving them drinks, spread my legs so they felt my wet pussy, and have me lick their fingers clean of my own juices while talking about me as if I wasn’t there. They also liked to pinch me, tease me, or use me in any nonsexual way.

This was one thousand times better than any erotic slave dream I ever had. But it was all real. I had never been this wet for this long before in my Life!

That night, as I was allowed to curl up in his bed next to Him, we cuddled, and as I sucked his cock, he told me I was a good Bitch Slave.

One month later, we had a second vanilla wedding for my family. It was complete with a chapel, more traditional-looking wedding attire, and a normal reception afterward in a Las Vegas resort restaurant. Even my brother and both my sisters came out for the wedding.

My parents finally got to meet the man they thought was kidnapping me and turning me into a cult member or something. Over the weekend, they slowly warmed up to Him and welcomed him to the family.

This is my new life!

Love,
Bitch slave

(please leave me your comments and thoughts or questions)