Serving Master

I’m not quite sure if you mean doubting my submission or doubting my choice to submit here so I’ll answer both.

I don’t doubt the fact that I am submissive in the slightest. I’ve pondered this a lot actually and when looking back at most of my relationships in the past I see a girl who was desperate to be dominated in a positive way. (Long story short I was in some negative relationships where I was basically forced into submission – long before I even knew what that word meant). Ever since I was a kid I would play games of a damsel in distress and in my mind I’d wonder what happened if Prince Charming didn’t save the Princess. I would read one of those trashy romance novels and always be unsatisfied if the “good guy” got the girl. I wanted to see what happened if the dark and “dangerous” guy kept her. Granted there are a few stories out there like that but in the ones I would read the “dangerous” dude always turned out to be a big teddy bear. Bleh. I just wanted someone who could take my stubborn streak and tame it; by force if necessary. The only thing I doubted was that I would be able to find someone who could actually do that.
Since learning about the BDSM world and what being submissive entails I’ve never felt more at home, more “me” so to speak. Which leads us to my choice to submit…

My choice to submit is a gift. It isn’t a gift I would give away flippantly. I knew that choosing to be a slave would be the last real choice I’d make. I’m a firm believer that in order to really be 100% submissive (a slave if you will) you have to trust your Dominate partner. In past relationships I kept a bit of who I am hidden. I’d mention my desire to be manhandled to a guy and watch as he freaked out at the thought or freak out eventually as I went (lightly) into more detail about what that meant to me. I told a guy that I wanted to be bound and tied to the bed, only to have him laugh thinking I was joking around. It got to the point where I stopped mentioning what I wanted to try or what I was into or what kind of porn I looked at because the reactions I always got were so negative.

With Master though it was different. We were friends first and so talking about anything and everything was already on the table. It was infinitely easier for me to talk about what kinds of kinks I thought I’m into with him partly because we weren’t involved and partly because he made me feel as though my desires were not only normal, they were hot! I told him about finding Literotica.com and how some of the stories really caught my interest. I told him about my desire to be tied up and overpowered. He loved it. He would share sites he liked with me. It was comfortable and fun. Around the time that we started dating I discovered more information about BDSM and shared it with him.

The more we researched the topic of a Master/slave relationship the more intrigued we were. He started pointing out that throughout our friendship I’d always been fairly submissive to him. I pointed out that I enjoyed it and that I desired to continue to be submissive to him. I researched the differences between being a submissive and being a slave. One of the defining differences is that a slave doesn’t set limits. For example a sub might say “I’m not into anal, that’s one thing I’ll never do” where as a slave would say “I’m not into anal, but if you asked me to I’d comply”. When Master asked me which I thought I was (slave or submissive) I told him that from everything I’ve learned thus far I was his slave. It slipped out. I’d meant to say a slave. I’ll never forget the way he looked at me and waited for me to correct my statement. When I didn’t he walked over and said “And you’re a good slave too aren’t you?” From then on out I’ve called him Sir or Master and he’s called me his slave (among other things, lol) Over time we discussed the need for rules and  punishments and such but all in all I’ve never felt so comfortable in my place in a relationship before. Funny how I’ve found my freedom in being a slave…And I can’t wait to be a 24/7 slave when I move in with him!

Thanks for your question!
-ariia

A vanilla friend of mine and I had an odd conversation today. I’m not even sure how we got on the topic, but we were talking about orgasms from clitoral stimulation. She stated that after two or three orgasms she’s done and sated. She also stated that she doesn’t need or want sex sometimes even joking about how she tells her husband she has a headache and therefore gets out of preforming.

I’m the opposite. I can go all day and all night long and still I want more. Master makes sure I’m beyond satisfied so maybe it’s just the way I’m wired, but even after the best sex ever I find myself wanting more of him. Maybe that’s part of what makes me a slave. I would never say no to begin with but I’ve found that when I have a headache coming on sex is a great way to make it go away!Master loves that I’m horny for him all day every day. I love that he takes full advantage of the fact that I’ll never turn him down for it either. I just can’t get enough of his cock!!

Anyway, my conversation with my friend got me thinking… I can’t be the only one who constantly wants sex even after just having had sex. How many of you are never fully satisfied?

On a side note, I move in with Master in about a week. My blog is on the back burner for right now because packing and getting ready for the move takes priority. Please be patient with me for the next week or two! Thanks,

-ariia

Dear Master,

    I know I’m supposed to be packing and cleaning and getting ready to move, but that’s not what’s been on my mind all day… the main thing my mind wants to focus on right now is fucking your brains out. Or making love to you. Or you giving me a session with whips and chains and gags and paddles…. I can’t decide which. All I know is that I want you. I want you inside me; I want you above me; under me; behind me; holding me up against the wall; pinning me to the ground; showing me just how strong you are; challenging me to try and get out from your grasp but knowing that it’s an impossibility. I want to be panting and breathless and sore and raw and yet finding the air to cry out your name as you make me come. I want to feel our skin touching, run my fingers through your hair, have your hands in mine, your mouth on my mouth, my neck, my breasts, my hips and my pussy.

I want to lay you under me and slowly brush my nipples against your skin, dragging them up and down your body, letting my hair follow. I want to use the lightest touch I can manage to trace circles around your shoulders, your chest, your belly and your groin until goosebumps appear on your skin. I want to trace a line from your jaw to your cock using only my tongue, watching your expressions as you enjoy the things I can do to you.

I want to feel the ropes around my wrists tighten and hold me as I try to slither around underneath you. I want to cry out as you grab my hair and pull me into positions I didn’t think were possible. I want to feel the strike of the paddle randomly on my body and the sensations of crying out from pleasure or pain conflict within my mind. I want to feel your hands close around my throat as you pound me harder, denying my orgasm and telling me to hold on for just a little longer.

I want to be flipped over by you, so that you can take full control and then be teased by you until I’m screaming for more. I want your lips on my neck one hand on my breast and your other hand on the small of my back as I arch up into you, desperate to have you deeper, further inside me. I want to hear your voice in my ear giving me orders even as you bring me closer and closer to the white light of ecstasy. I want to feel the bite of your teeth on my skin. I want to enjoy the pain that immediately turns to pleasure when you tighten your hold, or pinch my skin. I want to further explore the sensations that flow through me with every slap of your hand, the “ouch” that forms in my throat only to come out as a whispered Yes Master, more please in my quiet desperation to give you my all, my everything.

I want to be so worn out from moaning your name and whatever other things come to my mind that we have to take a break just so I can wet my parched throat. I want to relieve it by taking your hard cock into my mouth and sucking you off slowly and precisely, taking my time, allowing your orgasm to explode out of you and into me. I want to lick you clean after you’ve fucked me well, I want to drink you in, both metaphorically and literally.

I want to lay sweaty and panting in your arms, basking in the love that we just made, eager to start again. I want to feel your hands rub my thighs as you tell me I’m beautiful and that there’s no one else like me. And I want to lay my head on your chest as I drift off to sleep in the knowledge that we have finally, finally had the chance to satisfy one another, knowing that we’ll be doing it again as soon as one of us wakes.

I can picture us having sex in just about every spot imaginable; your office, some random stretch of the road, a path along which we’ve just hiked, every room in the house, and everywhere in between . I can see us using chairs, counters, pool tables, elevators, stairways and rooftops as needed.

I want you for more than just sex Master but lately these are the things that fill my mind, my dreams, my fantasies. I want you in every way I can have you, but right now, I just want you in me as deep as you can go, for as long as we can last. Over and over and over again. I want to be sore and raw when you are through with me, and yet taken again, just because I am yours and you have that right.

I. Want. You.

((Sigh)) And yet I can not have you today. I will not be able to feel you inside me tomorrow. Our date is coming, Master. You remind me of this daily, I know that it won’t be long now…

I need to get back to packing, but rest assured, Sir, that you are never far from my mind and I am certainly obeying your orders and staying horny and wet for you. Always!

Forever Yours,
-ariia