Tag: slave

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Singlehood

At 5.29am sharp, I brought my mouth over her nipple and proceeded to suck on it to wake her up, in a slow, gentle manner that she couldn’t help moaning to. Within seconds, I could feel the hardness with my tongue, still swirling around her aerola.

‘Mmm.. ‘

The moment she spread one of the thighs outward, I slid a hand over her soft skin and slipped the edge of my index finger between her labia, moving back and forth along the sensitive folds of her pussy. Next, I placed my fingertip on her clit and began rubbing in circular motion, until both her legs were widened like a frog’s.

(I whispered) ‘Can I?’

‘Yes please.’

Climbing into her bed as stealthily as possible, I positioned myself right below her groin, penis up and ready to awaken more of her senses. With the aid of some saliva, I slipped my manhood easily into her and held my upper-body up in a push-up stance, while jutting just my hips at her groin.

Swiftly plunging my cock into her increasingly wet hole, she began stirring more sensually in the bed, mostly fumbling her arms around to grab and let whatever she had caught, go.

Despite being the ‘victim’ in this sick enslavement, I had gradually grown to accept my fate in this role of a sex slave, a minor character to a woman who lived a life I could only dream about.

On the day I turned thirty, she reached out to me, to ask about how, and what was I doing, where was I, in terms of – life. Half-disheartened and joyless, she made a suggestion that I never thought would last this long, or even impacted me this much.

Taking up her advice, I moved in with her and began adapting to my (new) life of a ‘houseband/ homemaker/ personal butler’ to the likes of a younger, career woman. At first, I was tasked with daily chores, cooking, preparing everything she needed to start her day, and provided a comfortable environment for her to sleep.

Shortly after, I was asked to ‘help’ her with more intimate stuff, like showering her while she did her hair, dressing her up as she applied makeup, to the uncomprehensible task of relieving her – sexually.

Although I didn’t think too much about holding the vibrator for her, things soon took a weird turn once she requested me to ‘rub one out’ for her. My assistance in that aspect expanded rapidly to fulfilling her fetishes like bondage, taking erotic photos/ videos, and finally, having sex with her.

That last part was really what opened the can of worms when she included ‘performance drugs’ in my diet, to maintain an erection for most of the times she was home.

(She moaned) ‘Keep going! Keep.. haaa.. going! I’m gonna.. gonna.. COME!’

Sinking her teeth deep into my neck, her vagina suddenly tightened around my cock, gripping me to a choke before I had to pull it out. In a quick-witted move, she slammed me back into her pussy with her feet on my ass, ramming me deeper into her contracting hole.

(She whispered) ‘Not until you cum.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘YES!’

I carefully brought her hands to the two corners above her head, and held them down as I thrust, from a slow, to a forceful, merciless tempo which sent her groaning in agony. Her knees flipped themselves up into the air to let me in as deep as I could go, scrubbing her G-spot so rapidly until I felt her pussy clamping onto me again.

(I groaned) ‘You are.. tight!’

‘It’s you.. huu.. huu.. who is.. getting bigger.. AHHH!’

The moment she snapped, her vaginal walls shut around me once again, this time encasing me in the stiffest grip I had never experienced, which caused me to erupt bountifully into her exhausted, overworked hole.

Like a seasoned manslut, I grabbed a few pieces of tissue as I let myself out of her, soaking whatever cum that leaked out of her with the 3-ply Beautex. As for the rest that was still inside her, she would go on with her work with them, letting them loose slowly for me to clean them when she returned.

Ever since the beginning of our unconvential relationship, she had went on the pill to reduce the use of sanitary pads, and also permit the providence of my intimate services. For someone who planned to stay single, it was, in some ways, a clever solution to ease her sexual temptations, serving as an outlet for the stress she gained from work.

For the rest of the morning, after fucking her another time in the shower, I was left to catch up on my sleep, do some chores, cook a hearty lunch , before becoming the ‘chair with a protruding piece of wood’ for her to sit her pussy on as she ate.

On that special work day, besides exempted from doing any more chores, I was told to take advantage of the blue pill I ingested, to tire her out for an early night.

(Moaning softly) ‘Mmm.. you’re so big.. ‘

The next morning, I woke up with her mouth over my dick, sucking hungrily as she threw playful glances at me.

(In my drowsy voice) ‘Is it?’

‘I’m so lucky to have you as my older brother. Mmm~’

And I couldn’t disagree more, for it was the other way round.

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Snippets

Be Safer

(Janice excitedly suggesting) ‘Do you want to try anal sex this time?’

(I answered sceptically) ‘I would. But if it hurts.. ‘

(Janice responded hopefully) ‘If it hurts I’ll take the juice!’

For the past week, Janice and I have been staying in my room, although hers was just right opposite. We weren’t exactly in a relationship, but we were related – somehow. Living in a hotel, it was fairly easy to notice those who were there for leisure, and the handful who were long-term residents. As for Janice, she was even harder to ignore, often well-dressed, and still gorgeous even in ‘home clothes’.

A head of flowing long hair, professionally-permed, fair, flawless skin, on a tight, petite body joined to a mesmerising pair of long legs, with the occassional change of colours on her nails. It was too convenient for the hotel to put us, the long-term residents, together, on the same floor, sometimes side-by-side.

The fine establishment, tastefully furnished with expensive furniture, touted world-class service, minimum disturbance, and fittingly, maximum privacy for the guests staying there. It was no wonder, that no one, has yet to discover the disappearance of Janice, from her room. Well, even if they did, would it be hard to imagine a couple of their guests inter-mingling with others outside of their allocated rooms?

For the first day of her ‘stay’, I have tried a few restraining methods. From cuffs, to collars, to longer ropes, most didn’t hold up well. A well-fed maiden could garner enough strength and wit, to overcome those obstacles. As much as I hate to cause any marks to her body, I had to inflict some beatings, some scarring, and a few more bruises than intended, to keep her obedient. Violence clearly wasn’t a sustainable method. Oh, if any one of you wondered about her ‘bathroom business’, let’s just say, for a lady like her, relieving herself anywhere else besides the toilet, carried a deeper shame than what I was putting her through. So no, we didn’t have to worry about that.

I couldn’t stop thinking about ‘well-fed’. So on day two, I went through some dubious channels, met some shady people, and my hands on some consumables. The first time I administered some, she felt like a dead fish. Too much of any thing could be bad, right? So I let her sleep most of the day off, except for her second feeding, which kept her up a little longer, but she still dozed off halfway. Not wanting to risk any medical emergencies, I figured she earned the rest of the day off.

Day three started off with a hearty, English breakfast, carefully seasoned with what was her third dose. This time, she got sufficiently wet, adequately high, and even a little excited, when I relieved my urges on her. I was slightly worried when she offered to suck me off, but it was all for the greater (a.k.a. bigger) good. From breakfast, to lunch, and dinner, she was filled, as like my tummy was.

On the fourth day, I wanted to try something different. After feeding her breakfast, once she felt a little dizzy, I placed her over the vintage, wooden chair in the room. With her chest facing the backrest, I straightened her arms down the back of the seat and tied them to the feet, and sort of did the same for her feet, to keep them apart. I was initially concerned about hygiene, seeing her all bound up, but in the end she was still nice enough to be vocal about going to the loo, that I didn’t have to worry much. In that compromising and certainly humiliating position, I enjoyed myself tremendously. Her mouth, pussy, were both a delight to shoot into. I just couldn’t bring myself to try her anus. It did felt a little ungentlemanly to access that area without consent.

The morning of the fifth day, she woke me up to use the toilet. And it was time for breakfast anyway. I guess it was just a matter of time, that she realised I was drugging her. Before I could say anything, she offered her body drug free, that she wanted to ‘enjoy’ every second of it. Would you believe that? Anyway, I let her did the work that morning, and it was underwhelming compared to when she was high. For the rest of the meals, I dosed a little less, and mixed a new pill I crushed, into her food. As usual, I had my way with her, and she fell into a sleep deeper than before. I wasn’t too keen in using her when she was out. So I slept with her.

Day five began strangely, with her sitting awake next to me, yet in a daze. She couldn’t recall her name for a moment, and the past few days became more fuzzy for her. That didn’t change her situation, so I resumed feeding her food laced with potent aphrodisiac. To my surprise, she was seemingly enjoying it throughout the entire session. For a second, she felt like a hot girlfriend/ slave I could control and do whatever I want. That night, we both cuddled to sleep, though I knew I couldn’t remove the cuffs on her.

On the sixth day, I went into her room, picked out a few pieces of clothes I wanted to see her in. She quietly wore them for me, and we had a ‘lunch date’ in room. She has gotten used to seeing me drizzle that mysterious liquid, and even more used to finishing her food. After that, and for the next two meals, I felt like a boyfriend, stripping my own girlfriend to be used for my sole pleasure, like she had a fetish to be used that way. That very night, I put a dash of the unknown powder into her drink, and she fell asleep almost instantly. It was time to purge her memories.

Waking up to a hand stroking my manhood one week into it, I thought she had broken free and was about to cut my dick off. Thankfully, she was just up, and horny. Did she took the juice on her own? Or did something happen to her psychologically? In any case, we had pure, raw sex before we had any food, or drugs, and she was surprisingly more susceptible than ever. She went to the toilet on her own, she sucked me off without hesitation, and bent over the moment I got hard. Still, I had to help her forget. How about getting her turned on in her sleep, would her horniness overpower the desire to sleep?

After all these, it’s only right for me to pay for her accommodation right?

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Texts

Erintwo

*Knock knock*

‘Mmm? What are you up to this time? Did you order something?’, I asked cheekily as Erin lifted herself off my chest, leaving our fiery passion to smoulder as she answered the door. After taking a quick glance through the peephole, she then nonchalantly cracked the door open, wide enough for her to step through, but not spoil the ‘mystery’ for me.

A minute or so later, Erin appeared at the door again, in a blindfold, and a braided-leatherish collar which I only saw later. Strutting closely behind her was a woman (whom I shall call ‘M’) I didn’t recognise, nor could I, once she pulled that robber-style mask over her head. From afar, I could only see, and not hear what M whispered into Erin’s ear, that brought her to her knees, and hands, before crawling (forward) towards me.

Now that they were just a few steps away, I watched Erin carefully as the words, ‘locate his feet’, was uttered from the M’s lips. Slowly, she patted on the ground in front of her, in a left-to-right pattern until I noticed M waving at me, for me to raise my feet off the ground. I did just that and gleamed, momentarily in mockery, as Erin kept pushing forward until she touched the bed. M then caught one of my feet, placed them onto Erin’s neck and let her find her bearings.

For a long time, Erin and I have always indulged in plain, vanilla sex, though we would experiment and explore alternatives. We have never stayed with any particular ‘fetish’ long enough to make it a lifestyle, since we were in it for the experience. When Erin subjected herself, and I, to that.. unconventional fetish which included a stranger, I was initially hesitant, about how ‘well’ the stranger knew us to not cross our limits. Turns out, M only needed to know Erin’s boundaries, to understand where I stood.

I have known Erin to be an independent, and even vocal individual, lest to be treated as such a ‘special’ being, on her knees and at other’s command. While she had her hands over my feet, I felt a tug at my heartstrings when Erin was asked to ‘find my cock’, with just her mouth. It couldn’t be helped that she looked, well, somewhat silly, and even less impressionable, when she smiled at her ‘accomplishment’.

‘Good. Now stay here, in this position, until I fetch you’, M spoke in a firm voice in Erin’s direction, and left her spot to hand me a dildo, with a suction cup. ‘Sir, stick that anywhere you want her to be’, as soon as M said that, Erin shifted a little, possibly due to the ambiguity of the words ‘stick that’. I went to an open space next to the coffee table and secured the toy onto the tile, before following M’s handsigns to sit on that part of couch directly behind it.

M then led Erin to the dildo, requested her to squat over it, and again, ‘locate my feet’. Using her sense of hearing, she was able to find me sooner, and appeared more willing this time. ‘Suck him until I ask you to stop’, M dropped the chain connected to her collar as soon as she gave the order and sat next to me, with a ‘brochure’ that has our names printed on it. To be honest, it felt somewhat ‘royal’, to get a blowjob as I discussed something so ‘important’,

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Texts

Erina-chan

Interviewer: ‘Can you describe for me how, would you break someone down?’

That question, could not be any more fearsome as I recalled the voice, who asked for my views, on a hypothetical question, that he claimed, ‘many others have answered’. After that ‘interview’, we sort of ‘lost contact’, though we never had too much information on each other to begin with. It began as an email questionaire, before it turned into a voice transmission to add a little dazzle to the ‘mystery’ of such taboo topics.

Me: ‘I would first.. make her, can I use ‘her’? (speaking to self) I’ll just use her.. I would make her exercise first.’

It started out as a harmless, and even common, request to have a story written, about her, and in this particular situation, about her, and a dominatrix – in a BDSM kind of scenario? I was first of all, completely clueless about that ‘other’ side, and secondly, not too keen on the demeaning, degrading kind of foreplay, pardoning my lack of knowledge on such a subject. To me, sex, should be consensual, fun, and perhaps challenging, on the experimental level.

Interviewer: ‘Can you elaborate?’

‘BDSM’ is a huge topic, and it’s not exactly one that I would fumble my way through and offend enthusiasts unknowingly. It is such an expansive topic that I wouldn’t know where to start, much less feel its ‘prowess’ and ‘liberation’ from pushing one’s mental, emotional, physical limits to attain the subspace realm.

Me: ‘I would put her through the standard, usual kind of exercises, preferably with gym equipments since they can really push one to the limit without that person knowing that he or she has reached that limit. For example, the assisted pull-up machine, I would make her do the most reps with the minimal weights. And keep letting her rest-recover-workout over and over again until her arms are wobbling.’

Sex, for the longest time, has been a ‘team effort’, at least in my books. I would like to receive and give, or occasionally just receive or give, depending on my partner’s mood that day. We would take turns to do the work, and have never finished feeling ‘incomplete’ or ‘unsatisfied’. If there was something she felt like doing more, I would let her, or if there was something I didn’t feel like doing, she would give me a break. While I believe that communication is present during any BDSM sesh, it would be difficult to decipher its true meaning amongst the emotions the words are carried on.

Me: ‘When her arms and legs, and neck and back are too weak to even carry her own weight, I will then adjust her clothes to expose some skin on her before strapping more weights across her entire body; to scramble from the wax I’d drip onto her back, or writhe to the few volts I’d send across her belly, or simply squirm helplessly as I tickle her beyond insanity. With those heavy, immovable limbs, she would be mentally drained in no time.’

To me, ‘torture’, or basically inflicting any kind of discomfort, shouldn’t be just a one-sided event. if you As I have been taught, at a young age, to ‘never inflict upon others what you don’t want others to do unto you’, and thus, the concept of the ‘dom’, and ‘sub’ roles, simply made no sense. How could someone just pick the most beneficial, or advantageous side and happily indulge in their high kingdom? Is there no compromise, or grace, or empathy for what you will be making the other party feel? Do you ‘decide to be a sub’ or do you ‘decide to not be a sub’? How does it work?

Me: ‘At that point in time, she should be naked, or somewhere close to that. Once she has no strength left to even struggle, that is when I will stimulate her sexually, say with a vibrator or a dildo, to thoroughly empty her of any energy reserves. After a few orgasms, she should be as good as dead, though still far from making her wish that she was dead.’

Under normal circumstances, I already find it hard to get angry, let alone hit, any women in my life. Sure, I do ‘spank’, but as I was unofficially ‘taught’, there is a certain way to cup your palm so the smack actually sounded louder than it felt. For me, it was all show, and never real, flesh-deep pain. That said, the pain that I request my partner to inflict are done under a timely, controlled manner which I have absolute control over, though I receive ‘surprises’ at times.

Me: ‘My next trick would be to erect some kind of non-gory, Jigsaw contraption, that basically pit her own strength and willpower, against a dildo-vibrator and gravity acting on her own weight. I would design it in such a way that if she slacked or lost focus, the dildo would then penetrate her with the force of her own weight, and proceed to vibrate or thrust continuously until she was out, or regained enough strength to ‘pull herself away’.

The furthest I had ‘gone’ was that one time I tied my ex up, limbs restrained at the four corners of the bed, and just pleasured her until she begged for me to free her. I did have (consensual) penetrative sex with her while she was under restraints, but that wasn’t as thrilling or arousing as allowing her to caress and bite or lick or kiss me in expression of her lust. It was truly something to watch your partner succumb to your skills and knowledge of their minds/ bodies.

Me: ‘Eventually, I will have to come up with something more lasting and impressionable, like using an E.M. Chastity Belt (which is really a modified, electric-dog collar engineered into a chastity belt with some kind of plug/ dildo) to maintain full control of her body with pain, or some sort of auto-mental-phyiscal-association between ‘distance’, and the electrical shock she would receive through her nether region. At the end of the conditioning process, she should be functional (within a certain radius) around you, and mildly-aroused when right next to you.’

So, while I might have attempted some form of BDSM, I am not someone who would be able to freely impose on anyone, much less a female at my beck and call. Towards someone like that, I couldn’t be more grateful, and most definitely cherish them like delicate babies. How could I hurt ever hurt her?

Interviewer: ‘That’s pretty detailed. Will you open your door and see if there is someone there?’

I don’t think that I have come across anyone that vulnerable/ submissive before, though I have always asked nicely for the things I want? So I wouldn’t be able to tell if they did (things) as a favour, or an act of kindness, or like you say out of servitude. Most of my partners are considered independent, so I assume that they have a certain mindset. Personally, I haven’t got to ask many of them if they were ‘subs’ or ‘doms’.

Me: ‘Let me.. wait.. (distant chattering) Erina? Erin? Hi hi. Nice to meet you. No wha.. wait wait wait.. I cannot.. (back to mic) Sir? This Erin just handed me a bracelet and kinda seduced me into accepting it? Did you plan this? I cannot just have her enter my life like this. Hey? You there?’

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Texts

Ultra-woman

I think we all know what a ‘sub’ is, being someone who is ‘obligated’ to, within reasonable limits, obey all instructions given by her ‘dom’. And I guess we also can imagine those couples dedicated enough to push themselves right up to the edge. Things like degradation, mild punishment, use of demeaning terms, won’t be too far off too.

But this girl, this short, small-sized undergrad with decently-proportionate bosoms and rumps, was clearly on another level. Although unverifiable, I could tell with high certainty that she must have gone through some shit – for me to write so extensively about her.

When we met for the first time, I had an understanding that it was an opportunity for us to hang out, spend some time together, and see if we could get along. Although I was properly dressed in t-shirt and jeans, I was still worried about ‘ruining her image’ if she had shown up in something classier.

It wasn’t until later when I recognised her from the crowded escalator, did my heart skipped a beat knowing that she would be more comfortable than me in a spaghetti top and high-waisted, FBT shorts.

The ‘date’ was honestly, unremarkable at best. We settled for dinner at McD, which can be quite novel depending on how you look at it, and had share some fun details on our lives before we went to catch a movie.

The movie we picked wasn’t anything hot or new, so everyone, or couples, was able to find some rows or corners to themselves. It was because of the sparse seating arrangement that we could continue talking, albeit in whispers while the show went on.

It couldn’t be helped when some scenes got too loud for us to hear even ourselves and so we would just turn our attention to the big screen until it was quiet again. Up till that point, I was pretty stoked to know that I could still be of interest to another human being. That was indeed, a good feeling.

As we went quieter and focused on the show, she coyly pulled up the armrest between us and leaned into my chest, tucking herself comfortably in. Since it was happening in the dark, I didn’t mind being of some use to her and held her close.

(She whispered) ‘Do you want me to suck you?’

(Confident that I had misheard her, I whispered my answer) ‘Sure.’

The next thing I know, she had undone my zipper and was whipping my cock out when I asked her to repeat her question again. And no, I didn’t hear her wrong. She gently pried my hand away and resumed unhiding my cock, fearlessly letting it stand tall while she bunned her hair up.

Within seconds, my cock was in her mouth and she was really good at it. Her tongue went all over the place and my toes never uncurled. Cramping inner thighs, clenched fists, gapping mouth, rolled eyes, toes curled, I could literally see flashes of black and white shooting within my fluttering eyes.

Her lips, although they didn’t move far from the base of my cock, delivered the most intense euphoria I ever experienced. Her swiping, sweeping tongue, tickled every inch of my skin that I wanted her there forever. She went at it tirelessly until I felt bad for her, and finally stopped her crazy onslaught of pleasure.

(She whispered) ‘Was it good?’

(I replied breathless) ‘Fucking good.. ‘

Out of courtesy, I asked if I could touch her and she just leaned back into her seat, adjusting the centrepiece of her shorts to one side for my access. We returned to our ‘normal’ sitting angle while I kept one hand over her pussy, rubbing and toying with her clit endlessly. Never once did she initiate or stop me from doing anything to her, and so it was only a matter of time before fingers started disappearing into her.

Without any signals from her, I just teased her until the bad guys were defeated, marking the end of the movie, and fun, for both of us. My wrinkled fingers came out of the light-headed, mesmerised-looking girl and we just laughed our earlier crazy ‘exchange’ off.

We chatted heartily all the way to her void deck where she then made a request for me to send her up. There was no way I would shy away from that, especially when it could be the last time I see her.

As soon as the lift door closed, she reached under her top and unclasped her bra, pulling it out with a sigh of relief. And to top that off, with five seconds left in the lift, she popped the golden question. Yes, her.

‘Can I suck you off properly this time?’

‘Ok. But am I allowed to please you too?’

‘Of course.’

We skipped so suspiciously happily to the stairwell and she freeed my bells and whistle again, ‘blowing’ on it as soon as it came into sight. Knowing that she didn’t have an upper time-limit, I kept my eyes on her every move to fully appreciate her effort, and at the same time learnt that she too, was closely monitoring my every physical response.

After five or so mind-blowing minutes, I helped her up and she politely asked what position I wanted her in.

‘Doggystyle.’

She leaned over the railing, stuck her ass out, and arched her back down. It was, from my perspective, the ideal, core-supported stance I could ever imagined. I took my spot behind her and slid my cock right into her juiced-up pussy, unleashing my monster in a steady, rhythmic pace.

(I groaned) ‘Why.. are you wet.. already?’

(She moaned) ‘I.. I just get wet when.. whenever I come in.. contact with a dick.. ‘

Her slippery vaginal walls were on one hand, a joy to shove my cock through, and on the other, unforgiving in over-stimulating the raw nerves on my dick head.

No more than five minutes later, I was grunting and writhing, only for her to assure me that it was ok. We slowed down to an awkward stop and she very gently led me to a wall, where I leaned on with my knees ‘half-bent’ at her request.

She then went on her knees the second time and took me into her mouth again. This time, she moved faster and harder, perfectly replicating the life-changing sensation of her pussy. To that, there were no better indicators than my ego-crushing orgasm, filled with loud gasps and desperate pleas to no one as my balls were vacuumed dry.

(While she panted) ‘You didn’t hold my head.’

‘No I didn’t. I wouldn’t know how to do it safely at your speed.’

A smile then broke across her face as she laid her gorgeous brown her down, pulling my hand along to join her (to sit) on the steps. It was at that location where she shared more of her sexual history, mainly exes whom weren’t afraid to break her in return for their ‘ultimate’ pleasure.

Public sex in cars, staircases, park benches, pavilions, void decks, cinemas, changing rooms, toilets, clubs, were no stranger to her. Getting slapped, punched, pinched, choked, whipped, tied up, peed on, doodled on, photographed, shamed, cuckold, loaned, swapped, were also not too uncommon for her.

By then, I was the one feeling so broken that I just held her in my arms for a long time, patting her back and kissing her forehead while repeatedly telling her that those days are over. I had no idea how my impromptu prep-talk went since we only remained as flings, until she met someone worth making love to.

It was the sex we had during our short fling, that showed me how broken she was, when she became the one requesting me to ‘rape’, ‘hurt’, and ‘berate’ her. Things did get better towards the end, but definitely not gone before we broke contact.

If you are reading this, I hope you are in a better place now.