him, then crossed to the stereo system, ignoring me completely. It was another thing for me to focus on—my place in this hierarchy—and I slipped a little deeper into subspace.
Master chose some softer jazz music that I’d heard before, but never in the playroom. For a moment I wondered what he had planned for the afternoon, then quickly reminded myself that he could do with me whatever he liked.
“I would like to collar you, Jesse, is that okay?” he asked.
I nodded silently, almost able to count his footsteps to the wall where he fetched my collar, then back to me to fasten it around my neck. Once I was marked as his, he silently unbuckled his pants and presented me with his semi-hard dick.
Sometimes being a submissive is about fighting all of your natural instincts and instead letting another person control those subliminal thoughts. And other times it’s about following your instincts totally and completely.
When faced with my Master’s dick, my instinct is to nuzzle straight into it; my nose pressed into the juncture of his thigh and hip as I tried to find his unique, perfect smell. He was soon hard against my cheek, and I sucked one of his balls into my mouth to start with, to get him really turned on.
“Open,” he said, tapping my cheek. Obediently, I opened my mouth and held still. “I’m going to fuck your throat, Jesse, hold on and don’t gag.”
That was easier said than done. Master didn’t do this very often, only when he needed to get off quickly. In a detached way, I could see how some dominants would find the humiliation and degradation of this act appealing. It took a long time for me to learn how to relax my throat enough to take the pounding from his cock, and even then, Master likes it wet, so there’s plenty of spit involved to lubricate the process.
For me, it was about servitude. When that collar connected around my throat, I handed over all my body to my Master to do with what he pleased. If he wanted to fuck my throat, then it was my pleasure to let him do it.
Master didn’t give me any warning that he was about to come. Not any verbal warning, anyway. I knew his body well enough to recognize the signs—his stomach muscles tensed up and his cock got harder before he shot his hot come into my mouth. I swallowed around him and kissed the end of his cock when he was done.
“Display,” he said, and I changed my stance slightly so that I was in the right position, arms held behind my back, shoulders back, and my aching cock straining up toward my stomach. Master went and collected a washcloth, cleaning off my face from any residual spit and spunk.
“It never fails to surprise me, how beautiful you look like that,” Master said once he was done, his hand gently stroking my hair back. “I’m lucky to have such an amazing submissive. I think you deserve a reward.”
His words held a touch of humor. He stroked down my cheek and gripped my chin tightly, tilting my face up to look at him.
“Mine,” he said decisively.
“Yes, Master,” I told him.
Master smiled and extended his hand to help me up. I was led to the padded table where Master quickly and efficiently buckled me into the leather wrist straps, then placed my feet flat on the table with my knees bent, and buckled them tightly too.
“Here’s the deal for tonight,” he said once I was appropriately restrained. “I’m going to make you come. Once. And only once. So make it good.”
I smiled as he looked down at me while caressing my naked chest. Gently, he placed a wet kiss right in the middle of my stomach, then trailed a wet tongue up to my collarbone, which he bit.
“No gags tonight, Jesse. No blindfolds. You’re mine, just as you are.”
“Yes, Master,” I agreed. “I’m yours.”
“Close your eyes,” he said softly.
My other senses were heightened with the loss of sight, and I heard him walk to one of the boxes and collect a few things. I was aware that he was standing next to me, just
Master chose some softer jazz music that I’d heard before, but never in the playroom. For a moment I wondered what he had planned for the afternoon, then quickly reminded myself that he could do with me whatever he liked.
“I would like to collar you, Jesse, is that okay?” he asked.
I nodded silently, almost able to count his footsteps to the wall where he fetched my collar, then back to me to fasten it around my neck. Once I was marked as his, he silently unbuckled his pants and presented me with his semi-hard dick.
Sometimes being a submissive is about fighting all of your natural instincts and instead letting another person control those subliminal thoughts. And other times it’s about following your instincts totally and completely.
When faced with my Master’s dick, my instinct is to nuzzle straight into it; my nose pressed into the juncture of his thigh and hip as I tried to find his unique, perfect smell. He was soon hard against my cheek, and I sucked one of his balls into my mouth to start with, to get him really turned on.
“Open,” he said, tapping my cheek. Obediently, I opened my mouth and held still. “I’m going to fuck your throat, Jesse, hold on and don’t gag.”
That was easier said than done. Master didn’t do this very often, only when he needed to get off quickly. In a detached way, I could see how some dominants would find the humiliation and degradation of this act appealing. It took a long time for me to learn how to relax my throat enough to take the pounding from his cock, and even then, Master likes it wet, so there’s plenty of spit involved to lubricate the process.
For me, it was about servitude. When that collar connected around my throat, I handed over all my body to my Master to do with what he pleased. If he wanted to fuck my throat, then it was my pleasure to let him do it.
Master didn’t give me any warning that he was about to come. Not any verbal warning, anyway. I knew his body well enough to recognize the signs—his stomach muscles tensed up and his cock got harder before he shot his hot come into my mouth. I swallowed around him and kissed the end of his cock when he was done.
“Display,” he said, and I changed my stance slightly so that I was in the right position, arms held behind my back, shoulders back, and my aching cock straining up toward my stomach. Master went and collected a washcloth, cleaning off my face from any residual spit and spunk.
“It never fails to surprise me, how beautiful you look like that,” Master said once he was done, his hand gently stroking my hair back. “I’m lucky to have such an amazing submissive. I think you deserve a reward.”
His words held a touch of humor. He stroked down my cheek and gripped my chin tightly, tilting my face up to look at him.
“Mine,” he said decisively.
“Yes, Master,” I told him.
Master smiled and extended his hand to help me up. I was led to the padded table where Master quickly and efficiently buckled me into the leather wrist straps, then placed my feet flat on the table with my knees bent, and buckled them tightly too.
“Here’s the deal for tonight,” he said once I was appropriately restrained. “I’m going to make you come. Once. And only once. So make it good.”
I smiled as he looked down at me while caressing my naked chest. Gently, he placed a wet kiss right in the middle of my stomach, then trailed a wet tongue up to my collarbone, which he bit.
“No gags tonight, Jesse. No blindfolds. You’re mine, just as you are.”
“Yes, Master,” I agreed. “I’m yours.”
“Close your eyes,” he said softly.
My other senses were heightened with the loss of sight, and I heard him walk to one of the boxes and collect a few things. I was aware that he was standing next to me, just
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