Master and Slut

I am naked spread eagled on the work bench. Am I safe or have I put myself in danger and at the mercy of a stranger who calls himself Master? My thoughts are interrupted when my headphones are lifted and Master announces: ‘Slut I am going to leave you for a few minutes. While I am gone, I expect you to lie perfectly still and, in your mind's, eye replay my seduction thus far. Remember you are my toy for the night. When I return if you have obeyed me and have not earned my displeasure you will be treated to the scent and taste of your Master’s Manhood. But before I leave, I am going to take snapshot of your naked body spread eagled on my work bench. I don't say it boastingly but the black collars around your wrists ankles and neck and tied to my workbench with the red rope will make a great photo. Adding the sixth red rope to you neck collar and placing it artfully just outside your pussy lips is especially evocative. Not only will the end of the rope be handy to tickle your pussy, but if need be it will keep you leashed, and under my control.’

Master replaces my headphones and readjusts my blindfold blocking out all visual and auditory distractions.
Floating in a void of nothingness I feel the faintest of faintest tickle on my Yoni. I guess Master is tickling my Fanny with the rope secured to my neck collar. ‘Who would believe titivation with a rope could be so sexually arousing?
Absolute stillness prevails so I guess Master has left the room and I am alone. Adrift in a floating world every cell in my body is alive and on fire with lust and desire, but still a little voice nags me that I am a fool to put myself in such a vulnerable position. For the last hour or more my Master has ravished me and indulged my senses with glorious unabridged debauchery. Being dominated and controlled by Master has been a welcomed change from the usual lack luster missionary style of 'wham bam thank you Mamme.' However, I have to admit I also feel a tiny tinge of apprehension. Any normal woman would be filled with trepidation. But perhaps I am anything but normal?
In the past out of necessity I have mostly needed to take the lead. Not because I necessarily wanted to, but more due to the fact the man was either inept as a lover or devoid of leadership qualities.

When my sexual partner is grounded in his masculinity I feel safe to let go and relax, but sadly all too often my partner has been afflicted with the ‘Physical and emotional inertia syndrome.’ I could choose to lie still and think of England but I am not an empty vessel to be filled nor am I a piece of wood to be drilled so instead I choose to take lead and I have a few tricks up my sleeve to sexually arouse both myself and my partner, but this becomes rather tedious as it is more often the norm rather than the exception. Not only is it draining but also kills my spontaneity and ultimately I fear my sex drive will diminish. Like many of my sister’s I long to relinquish power and hand the baton on. To receive and relax as apposed to always giving and calling the shots. To be given free reign to explore my inner Whore is very appealing. Nevertheless I question my decision to agree to be a slut for a stranger. ‘Can I trust him? Am I safe?’ Mulling over the pros and cons is unsettling and if Master takes too long to return I will start to have more and more misgivings about what was ahead for me. It is challenging to let go of negativity so I try taking myself to task and give myself a pep talk:
‘All will be revealed. Go with the flow and enjoy the debauchery. This is an opportunity to indulge your long held fantasy to be dominated. Don’t be a wimp and give into fear. So far you have already enjoyed the mixture of pain and pleasure and being in heightened state of sexual arousal has filled your cup to over flowing. Don’t back out. Instead imagine what Master has planned to further enhance your sexual pleasure.'
My pep talk over I concentrate all my will power to obey Master’s command repeating his instructions out loud:
‘While I am gone lie perfectly still and in your minds eye replay my seduction time thus far.’
A very masculine deep guttural and commanding voice is singing in my headphones, so I let my mind to dance back in time to the beginning of my Master and Whore adventure.

It was two minutes away from the bewitching hour. Two minutes away from turning eighty-three and I pondered:
‘Will this be a birthday celebration to remember? Or will I add it to the multitude of a deep well of disappointing sexual adventures?’
I stood nervously at Master’s front door dressed in a hat, stilettos, stockings, and a long flowing feather trimmed sheer black robe covering my skimpy tight fitting black dress. Before leaving home I had double checked my image in the mirror and was confident I looked suitably alluring and sexy but even so I struggled to maintain my bravado and felt the sudden urge to flee but somehow, managed not to heed the voice shouting in my ear:
'You are an idiot! Do you really think you can be a slut for a stranger? A stranger who calls himself 'Master!' Run before it is too late and you make a total fool of yourself! Where is your self respect?'
My heart was racing but mustering all my courage I knocked gently on the large wooden green door inwardly praying my soft tap would go unheeded. In my head the song ‘Green door’ helped to distract me from the trepidation threatening to overpower me:
‘Midnight one more night without sleeping.
Watching till the morning comes creeping.
Green door what’s that secret your keeping’?

And I wondered if there was an eyeball peeping behind the green door? What else was behind the large green timber door? Suddenly, the door was flung open and Master wordlessly beckoned me to enter. Obediently, like a puppet on a string (or perhaps lamb to the slaughter) I stepped across the thresh hold. I glanced around the dimly candle lit room with nervous anticipation. The tall bare footed well built stranger standing before me was wearing a black shirt and black pants. His handsome face framed in shoulder length blonde hair was expressionless, but his eyes reflected a smoldering sexual desire. My excitement was undeniable. The lure of debauchery and lust seductively arousing. Even so a little voice urged me to: ‘Leg it!’ Perhaps Master sensed I was on the verge of fleeing because suddenly Master’s deep sexy voice boomed out:
‘Slut if you want to leave do so now. I can’t tolerate wimps, but if you decide to stay these are the rules.
Rule number one:
You are my Whore, my slut, my salve, my plaything, and at all times you will address me as Master, King, God, Viking, My Lord or Warrior.
Rule number two:
You must do my bidding and follow my every command.
Rule number three:
You must do everything in your power to please your Master.
Rule number four:
Otherwise accept your punishment without a whimper.
Rule number five:
If you are not able to continue just say the word ‘Pink' and I will cease what ever is bringing you discomfort but it will not please me. Is that clearly understood Slut’?
Before I could reply Master repeated his question:
‘I asked you a question Slut. Is that clearly understood?’
‘Yes! ’I hastened to reply.
‘Yes who?’ Demanded Master.
‘YES MASTER’ I blurted quickly.
‘Well Whore you are starting to get the idea and so far your Master is pleased that you have dressed in your Slut gear as I instructed. You almost look fuckable but don’t let flattery fill your head with nonsense. First you need to prove that you are a worthy Whore for play time with your King. I trust you are primed and ready for me to use you as my toy?’

‘Yes Master’ I answered in a whisper which was strange giving the fact that we were alone, but I was in awe. Not only by his commanding presence but his husky deep voice sent shivers of desire racing through my body. Standing about two meters away from Master I waited with bated breath ready to obey Master’s every command My legs wobbled like jelly. Well, that is what it felt like. In fact, I wished I had opted not to wear the absurdly high gold sequenced stilettos. I felt I was about to full flat on my face. Literally as well as metaphorically. Seconds ticked by before Master silently began surveying my body. I carefully watched his face for any clues either positive or negative. Beginning at my feet he slowly and methodically checked over my body. Pausing briefly upon reaching my breasts and I think I detected an ever so feint glimpse of a smile tickle the corner of his lips, but then as if having a second thoughts scanned the rest of my body more quickly. Closed his eyes briefly and announced:
‘Slut my first command is for you to dance and as you dance remove your clothing slowly and provocatively, but leave your hat on.’
Again I was on the verge of running back out through the green door, but an invisible force held me captive.
Perhaps it was the adrenaline coursing through my body?
Perhaps it was the allure of Master and the scent of danger?
Perhaps it was the hot rush of pleasure sweeping over me?
Perhaps it was my desire to be ravished?
Perhaps I am irresistibly drawn to trouble?
To be had! To be taken. was forcing me to stay?
Perhaps the intoxicating rhythmic beat of drums keeping in time with my heart was casting a spell over me?
Perhaps it was Master’s penetrating gaze made me feel desirable, saucy and bold?

Perhaps it was all of the above? What I do know is felt like one of those ballerinas in a box that danced when the lid opened because when a woman’s sultry voice sang the Karma Sutra my feet had a mind of their own, and as my feet moved to the rhythm of the drums layers of tiresome societal inhibitions seem to vanish into thin air. My inner Goddess melted with my inner Whore unleashing my secret well of long held sexual fantasies. Free as a bird I danced with gay abandonment. There was rhythm in my footstep and a smile on my face because I was in a place where I didn’t have a care. I just wanted to dance. I danced wild. I danced free. I felt the rhythm in my feet. I felt it in my fanny. I felt it in breasts and I felt it my bones. The rhythm moved down my spine so I gyrated my hips and parted my lips because I was feeling fine. Teasingly I slipped my black feathered gown off my shoulders, but before letting it fall to the floor I kept it alluringly draped off my arms rolling first one shoulder and then the other in a come hither action. Then with a soft shoe shuffle I teasingly slightly lifted my dress and stroked my inner thigh then turning around I shook my tail feathers. Then moving my hips in saucy come hither eights I provocatively very slowly began rolling my dress down over my chests. Paused, then cheekily revealed one breast and then covered it again pretending to have second thoughts before slowly wriggling the dress down over both breasts giving both nipples a playful squeeze on the way, rolled it over my hips then wickedly wriggled my derriere before letting it tumble down my legs with a flourish to the floor. With my dress around my ankles I stood perfectly still pretending it was part of my dance, but truth be told I was fearing I would topple over. I needed to first get my balance before attempting to step out over my dress. Totally lost in the moment and Master’s voice startled me when he commanded:
'Slut go over there and stand on the chair. Raise your arms in the air and shake them. That’s right! Now sit on the chair and split your legs wide apart and let me see your Cunt.’

Without any hesitation or embarrassment I obeyed Master’s orders and before his piercing gaze I stretched my legs wide apart. Whoosh! Torrents of slut butter gushed from my tingling twat and trickled down my legs forming a puddle on the chair. The music ended but my legs remained split wide open revealing my jewel of joy. Unable to move I locked eyes with Master. Was I under Master's spell? Maybe he has hypnotized me? A few seconds passed before I realised that Master was wordlessly beckoning me to stand before him. A mischievous Mona Lisa smile flashed across my face. Then I locked eyes with Master and as gracefully as I could manage to slowly close my legs to my Lilly.
For several more seconds I remained motionless until as if by magic I was compelled to obey my Master.
I stood in front of him naked except for my stilettos, stockings, suspenders and hat. I felt sexy and so damned fuckin hot and desirable and eager for more.

Therefore I was surprised when Master blurted:
‘Slut you have earned my displeasure.’
You are supposed to be naked except for your hat.
I will forgive this one transgression, but only if you demonstrate that you can complete the task of undressing to my satisfaction.’
It was unsettling to be chastised by Master but thankfully on the airways Katie Perry singing the song ‘Rise’ helped me to deal with my Master’s disapproval:
‘When, the fire's at my feet again
And the vultures all start circling
They're whispering, "You're out of time"
But still, I rise
This is no mistake, no accident
When you think the final nail is in, think again
Don't be surprised, I will still rise.’

Summoning all my courage I teasingly placed my right foot on the edge of my King’s chair. I admit I was fearful Master may indeed scold me for the bold move, but to my relief he quietly slipped my stiletto off my foot, and I think I detected a small flicker of amusement cross his face. He then paused, glanced up at me and ceremoniously dropped my stiletto to the floor. My confidence soared so I boldly placed my left foot on his lap. Again, Master paused. Seconds passed before he slowly removed my stiletto and with a theatrical flourish raised his arm high but before letting it crash to the floor Master looked deep into my eyes as if to say:
‘You are testing my limits.’
But I was on a roll and Kate was too:
‘I'm beyond the archetype
I won't just conform
No matter how you shake my core
'Cause my roots, they run deep, oh Oh, ye of so little faith
Don't doubt it, don't doubt it
Victory is in my veins
I know it, I know it
And I will not negotiate
I'll fight it, I'll fight it
I will transform.’
Feeling incredibly saucy my new found confidence spurred me on and regardless of the consequences I lasciviously let my left foot remain on Master’s lap. Then I took my time to undo the buttons on my suspender before ever so slowly rolling the stocking down my thigh, over my calf, off my foot and with a flourish flung it overhead.

All along Viking watched me intently, but his face remained expressionless. I was not sure if I had over stepped his rules. Although I was nervous about provoking Master’s wrath nevertheless I defiantly placed my right foot on his lap. This time teasingly close to his groin and wriggled my toes imaging they were tickling his hard Cock Then I paused momentarily before deliberately locking eyes with my Master and waited until I detected a slight nod of Master’s head. With permission to proceed granted I further tested the boundaries. First my fingers traced over my nipples, then down my tummy, and over my muff. Last I dipped one finger into my wet glistening Ladies garden and wickedly sucked my pussy soaked finger. Then I purposefully took my time to roll my other stocking down my leg then finally flamboyantly pulled it off my foot and very lightly brushed the silky softness over my lips. Paused, caressed both nipples, then ever so suggestively trailed the nylon over my loins. Finally I closed my eyes and tickled my Yoni with the stocking. Feeling emboldened I brazenly turned my back to my Master and quickly released the hooks on the suspender belt. In my head the Blues Brothers singing ‘Shake your tail feathers’ spurred me on so with the suspender dangling over my hips I ran my hands up and over my buttocks and shook my tail feathers:
Twist it, Shake it, Shake it, Shake it, Shake it baby!
Here we go loop di loo
Shake it up baby!
Here we go loop di lie!
Bend over, let me see you shake your tail feather.

It was hard not to giggle when the dangling suspenders buttons tickled my tooshie but keeping my composure I turned to face my Warrior and moved my hips in a seductively. Then holding the suspender aloft, I twirled it triumphantly above my head, and finally with a flourish flung it high into the air. I wanted to whoop and holla like a cowgirl, but decided discretion was the better part of velour. Strutting my stuff naked was empowering so I decided to use my hat to end my strip tease dance. Firstly, I covered my breasts with my hat and alternated from being shy and demure to being a brazen hussy and displaying my boobs. Next I covered my snatch and danced alluringly. Master shifted in his chair and crossed his legs. His big toe caught my attention. I had no choice but to obey my inner Slut. Throwing caution to the wind I audaciously danced my cunt over Master’s big toe. Then, Whoosh! Twat juices squirted all over his Uncle Joe. Master was silent. Worried Master disapproved of my rambunctious performance almost took the wind from my sails. But, maybe Master secretly applauded my gutsy performance? So, with an act of bravado I teasingly flung my hat towards him. He leapt nimbly out of his chair and caught my hat with the skill of a basketball player. Then with agility and grace of a practiced discus thrower Master twirled around a couple of times then tossed my little hat in a sideways motion back towards me.
Silence followed. Followed by more silence. Still Master gave no indication if he approved or disapproved of my strip tease dance.
Standing nonplussed in my birthday suit in the middle of the room I felt rather vulnerable and worried. 'Have I earned my Master’s pleasure or disapproval?'

Master still remained motionless. His back turned so I could not ascertain his mood. The muscles under his shirt were tight and I feared I had earned his displeasure.
All was quiet on the Western Front for several nerve wracking seconds and I feared all Hell would break loose. My heart was beating loudly and I nearly lost my new found bravado:
'Have I not lived up to Master’s expectations? Perhaps taking the liberty to dance over his big toe was my demise?’
But then with litheness and astonishing speed Master turned and strode across the room. He stood motionless in front of me and I think I saw a shadow of a smirk cross his face. Then he placed both hands on my shoulders and silently surveyed every detail and curve of my body. It seemed like an eternity before Master finally announced in a monotone voice:
‘Now Whore although you over stepped the boundaries I am prepared to overlook your transgression, but only if you satisfy my inspection of your body. ’
Before Master began his inspection I decided to make amends for displeasing him:
‘Please I beg the Master forgive me for my bold display
It's your guidance and blind obedience I crave.
I will accept your discipline and try not to earn your displeasure. So punish me at your leisure.’

The words spurting out of my mouth took me by surprise Were they mine? Why was I agreeing to be submissive? Acquiescing to being inspected was not only demeaning but a direct contradiction to brazenly throwing down the gauntlet in my strip tease dance. Defiantly I had tested Master’s rules, but now I am doing the exact opposite. It occurred to me that relinquishing control not only offered me the opportunity to explore my submissive side, but being dominated also afforded me an opportunity to let go of trying to control every aspect of my life. Nevertheless the feminist in me was surprised that I did not vehemently object to being treated like cattle in the sale yards. Engrossed in my thoughts I almost jumped when Master’s finger slowly and tantalizing outlined the shape of my lips and I had to forcibly stop myself from parting my lips to suck on his finger. As though reading my thoughts Master slipped just the tip of his finger between my lips but a warning glint in his eyes reminded me to remain perfectly passive and not give reign to my natural response to placate my oral gratification need. Only my eyes moved as I watched Master’s long sensuous fingers slowly continue their downward descent. When his fingers skimmed past my pert nipples I involuntarily let out a small gasp. Again he cautioned me with his eyes to remain unflinchingly still. Master’s hands then caressed my belly in a hypnotic circular motion before teasingly meandering back again towards my breasts. My breathing quickened but again Master’s eyes cautioned me to remain passive. Pausing for a few moments he studied my face intently before cupping his hands over both breasts. For several agonising seconds Master remained motionless and my desperate need to have my nipples squeezed threatened to engulf me. Silently I pleaded:
‘Squeeze my tits! Please! Please Master! Squeeze my tit NOW!'
After what seemed like an eternity I gasped involuntarily when Master gently squeezed first one nipple then the other and again I silently begged:
‘Harder! Squeeze harder!’

But Master teasingly waited. Sucked his lips then gently squeezed one tit. Paused and gently squeezed my other tit. Ever so slowly Master repeated this ritual several times. Each time gradually building the intensity of the squeezing. I held my breath as the waves of delectable orgasmic sensations coursed unchecked through my body. My Warrior released his grip on my tits. Waited a nanosecond before rapidly gently brushing his finger tips repeatedly over my very sensitive nipples. Stopped for another nanosecond before tweaking both nipples with considerable force. Lastly as if reading my mind Master sucked first one nipple and then the other. O.M.G! I am off to ‘Gar! Gar! Land’.
I desperately wanted the orgasmic sensation to never end.

Alas, Master had his own plans and as his hands continued their downward exploration with very soft alluring circular caresses over my body I imagined I was a horse being stroked from head to tail before being saddled up. Slowly but surely his hands caressed closer and closer to the valley between my thighs. His fingers then lingered for a second over my love triangle and when Master’s pointer finger slipped between my rose petal lips it was almost like electric currents sweeping through my body. I think I detected a slight raise of one eye brow when a water shed of Coochie juices squirted down my legs. Otherwise my Master’s composure remained unchanged.
On, and on his hands travelled down my thighs and down to my toes. Without pausing My Lord took me by surprise when he lithely knelt on the floor and carefully examined each toe before letting his kitten like touch moved in reverse from my toes, up my legs, lingering teasingly around my loins. Then ever so suggestively lightly trailed his fingers over my velvet purse before gently brushing open the heart of my flower. My heart raced and I marveled that Master seemed to intuitively know my innate sexual longings and desires. My arousal threatened to overpower me so it was comforting to feel his soft caress move upwards over my stomach again. However when his hands returned back to my breasts I was on fire with uncontrollable wanton lust. Master’s eyes wordlessly demanded my total surrender as his fingers slowly, ever so tantalizingly slowly kept increasing the squeezing intensity on my nipples. When Master secured a clamp to each nipple I feared I would die from ecstasy. I guess he detected my complete surrender because deep throaty murmurings escaped from the inner recesses of my being. Appearing satisfied with his frontal inspection my King turned me around then starting from my head slowly began moving his hands in firm circular motion down my back as if checking to see if his 'Play thing' was indeed ready for action. My knees almost buckled from under me when Master’s sensuous hands landed on my derriere. Closing my eyes I savoured the delectable sensation of Master’s fingers dancing like soft butterfly wings on my butt cheeks. Playing with my bottom however, made me somewhat self conscience and I thought how strange it was that I felt no such inhibitions when I brazenly flashed my Pussy not so long back. Suddenly Viking abruptly took a step back and commanded:
‘Slut bend over and touch your toes.'

Mortified that Master was dissatisfied with his inspection I immediately obeyed despite my embarrassment. Finally after what seemed like forever my King forcefully tugged my hair pulling me into an upright position. My body was trembling and I worried I may not meet my Master’s approval. Thankfully my fear was dismissed when he announced:
'Let’s see what your nipples look like when I remove the nipple clamps.’
I glanced down to my boobs and was pleased to note my engorged nipples were standing to full attention. Warrior tweaked each nipple and nodded his approval:
‘Whore you will be pleased to know so far so good you have not failed your inspection There is more to still come but thus far I am going to enjoy seducing you’

I heaved a sigh of relief ‘So far so good.’ I whispered triumphantly to myself and braced myself ready for further inspection as Master gently but somewhat menacingly trailed a whip over my body. Starting from my head he trailed it over my breasts gently tapping each nipple before lingering longer between my thighs, then onwards down to my toes. Wielding the whip rather like a cattle prod he indicated for me bend over and turn around then proceeded to tap the whip in a rhythmical beat up my legs. On reaching my derriere Master dispensed with the whip using his hands to drum a rhythmical beat on my butt cheeks. A large wall mirror afforded me the luxury of watching his hands using my derriere as tom toms. I was captivated by my Viking’s undeniable sexuality as his body swayed with both grace and pure unabashed male energy.
The song ‘The Little drummer boy’ sprang to mind:
‘Master please suck my tit Par rump-a-pum pum-
And I will moan a bit. Par rump-a-pum pum-
I need your cock in my twat. Par rump-a-pum pum-Par rump-a-pum pum-
Now please slap my bum. Par rump-a-pum pum-
Then for sure I will cum. Par rump-a-pum pum-
Par rump-a-pum pum-
You and your bum.’

Although my instincts were to wriggle and gyrate my body in synchronicity with Master’s drumming I dared not earn his displeasure. So quelling my natural instincts and going deep within I melted at the edges. All else faded away:
‘Am I my bottom or is my bottom me?’
Master voice startled me back to the present moment with a jolt:
‘Very good Slut. Stand up now. Remember I am in control but if for ever reason you are not able to continue just say the word ‘Pink' and I will cease what ever is bringing you discomfort but it will not please me.’
Master gazed intently at my breasts and circled the whip almost menacingly around each one of my very engorged nipples. God it felt so good. But, then without warning he gently flayed each pink button. The pain was surprisingly arousing and with each flick of my nipples more crème de la framboise ran down my legs. I smiled to myself when Master boomed:
‘Good Whore! I see you are a gusher. Now let me see if this is also going to create more maiden’s water.’
Master forcibly plied the whip to turn me around wielding it to indicate how wide to spread my legs and demanded:
‘Slut bend over and touch your toes.’
Master traced curly cues around my butt cheeks, and I marvelled that the sensation was both simultaneously relaxing and sexually arousing. However sadly my silent prayer that Master would beat out another rhythm on my derriere went unheeded. He was more intent on using his whip to indicate I needed to widen my stance. Teasingly he trailed the whip between my silken veils and the touch of the leather on my Lilly sprayed vulva juice all over the whip.

The intoxicating aroma of the leather mixed with my flange butter had my head spinning. I imagined my body was the strings of a violin and Master’s whip was the bow and as the exquisite music permeated every cell in my body I floated in an endless symphony of sensual orgasmic bliss.
My Master continued to delicately dance the whip over my very aroused wet lily until once more Witch’s juice squirted on the floor. Just when I wondered how much more I could take suddenly Master wielded the whip a little more forcefully across my buttocks. Not that it hurt but I guess I was more startled:
‘Ouch!’ I cried
Again Master demanded:
‘Whose Slut are you?’
Before I had a chance to reply another whip landed on my backside:
‘Ouch!’
Again Master demanded:
‘Whose slut are you?’
This time I quickly answered.
‘Your Slut Master’ and more twat juices gushed unchecked from my tingling hot pussy lips. Every time I replied obediently ‘Your slut Master.’ tension drained from my body and I was curious to know why? But I do know it was a welcome change to let go and hand the power over to the Masculine. My brains pleasure centres were well and truly firing. Perhaps trying to keep control of my world has inadvertently trained me to hold my body rigid for fear of losing control? But I let those thoughts drift away when Masters voice demanded yet again:
*‘Whose slut are you’?
‘Your slut Master.’ I hastily replied and braced my body for yet another token whipping. Instead ice soothed my smarting skin and as Master’s hands gently stroked away the discomfort little groans of pleasure escaped from my lips. My whole body was aroused and on fire. So much so I worried my legs would buckle from under me. Thus I was ever so grateful and relieved when my God stood me back to an upright position. What transpired next took me totally by surprise. Master slipped both his hands into mitts made from silky soft rabbit fur and sensuously caressed every inch of my body. It was as though he was admiring a treasured art piece. The soft silken fur on my lips sent me into the depth of unimaginable rapture only surpassed when the rabbit mitts deliciously stroked my breasts. I wondered: ‘Is my skin fur, or is the fur my skin?
Am I on planet earth, or somewhere out in space?’

My world was spinning and I feared my pleasure threshold would explode. Thankfully my God must have been privy to my emotional upheaval and all too soon he removed the mitts and silently traced his fingers over my face looking deep into my eyes with a mysterious unfathomable expression. When he ran his fingers gently through my hair and ever so delicately pushed the stray hair off my face I fell into a vast well of longing. So much so I almost believed Master was impersonating the role of a dominate alpha male and in reality he was in fact a romantic softy. But that thought was dismissed when My Lord’s voice jerked me back to reality:
‘Slut remember I am your Master not your powder puff.’
As if to emphasize his point Master grabbed a handful of my hair. Involuntarily, I screamed but unperturbed by my yelping Master forcibly pulled me by my hair and dragging me towards the chair. Stopped abruptly! Stared triumphantly at my naked body then gruffly commanded:
‘Sit Whore!’

Perched nervously on the edge of the chair I tried to anticipate what was to follow. A small tinge of fear threatened my composure and I wondered if I should end my rendezvous as Masters Slut and utter the word ‘PINK.’’
Thankfully before I could chose that option Master interrupted my thoughts:
‘Whore before we continue I will treat you to a visual feast so make yourself comfortable.
Beautiful orchestral music exploded into the room capturing the haunting sounds of the wild. I imagined Cougars, Panthers, Lions, and Leopards, moving with stealth speed and agility to the rhythm of the music. I was enthralled and mesmerized as my Warrior walked around me moving with grace of a powerful black panther stalking its prey through the undergrowth. Closer and closer he prowled towards me. But then he swung abruptly around and with measured steps prowled in the opposite direction before standing perfectly still. Then with the stealth of a large cat prowled majestically back towards me again.

It was as though I was a hapless mouse being toyed with by the cat and I wondered if I should scamper back to the safety of my hole. But I dismissed that thought and instead feasted my eyes on Master’s handsome face and beautiful body. Like a wild animal he moved closer and closer towards me. Finally standing at close proximity I could clearly study his large strong sensuous hands. Captivated, and hardly daring to breath I watched him slowly, ever so slowly undo the buttons on his black shirt. He took for ever to teasingly undo the last button. Finally the opened shirt revealed a muscled chest and his calm but very sexy demeaner seemed to be saying ‘Look at me I am ever so sexy.’ Then after what seemed like forever and with an intensity that was on verge of overpowering me he looked deep into my eyes, slightly wriggled his broad shoulders before very seductively letting his shirt slip down his arms and fall to the floor. My instinct was to snuggle my face into his neck. I wanted to breath in his sex and feel skin to skin, but I detected a ‘Don’t you dare look’ flashing across Master’s face. Suitably warned I distracted myself by focusing my attention on his hands alluringly hovering at his waist. It was difficult to contain my excitement as I imagined the glorious sight of his member being displayed like a proud peacock. Just the very thought of the visual feast almost had me drooling. Could it possibly get better than this? Master suddenly ceased his enchanting, performance. My disappointment was palatable but not for long. Knowing more treats were waiting for me I closed my eyes and let myself imagine Master in all his naked glory. When I opened them again, he was striding around me before finally stopping directly in front of me. I breathed deeply inhaling the aroma of his maleness. The fragrance of his sun kissed skin mixed with the aroma of male pheromones was such a powerful aphrodisiac it drove me wild. I wanted to melt into the vast sea of lust and longing. Lost in my olfactory feast his voice startled me:
‘I warn you Whore there are still more criteria you need to pass before I decide your fate. I am seeking a toy, a plaything to use at my will. If, and I repeat IF! You meet the following expectations you will be my toy. My plaything to use as I so desire.’
To calm my anxiety while awaiting my fate my mind travelled back in time and I recalled a song about a broken doll that has just been mended. While the doll waits nervously to find out if she looks alright she sings:
‘Is my nose on straight?
Do I have a cute expression on my face?
Are my blue eyes bright?
Do I look alright?
I can hardly wait?
To be taken on Christmas day?’
In my nervous trance like state I composed my own words and under my breath sang:
Do you think I’m hot?
Do I have a cute expression on my face?
Do you like my twat
Please tell me my fate
Because I can hardly wait
To be fucked by you tonight.’
For several magical moments I was lost in another time zone and missed Master’s command, so he grabbed a handful hair and forcibly made me stand:
‘I said. Stand up!
Do you dare to disobey me slut?’
Stoically stood as best as I could. Master let go of my hair and I think I noticed an amused glint in his eye when he spoke:
‘Need I remind you that you are my Slut my toy to use how I please and you must obey. ’Do you hear me Whore?’
At first when I tried to speak my mouth opened but words failed me. I took a deep breath and hastily blurted:
‘Master I am your Slut. I am yours to obey. To please you in every way.’

In a monotone voice Master replied:
‘Next time Slut answer me immediately. I forgive your transgression this time but remember there may not be a next time if you don’t. Now it’s just about play time but first I need to make you ready for me to use you as my toy.’ I glanced at Master and detected an amused glint in his eyes however he appeared to struggle maintaining his stern composure, but then quickly regained control and looped a large studded black leather dog collar around my neck and buckled it quickly. He then fastened a red rope to the collar and gave the rope a couple of gentle playful tugs as if testing I would obediently respond. Gave a grunt of satisfaction stating triumphantly:
‘Time to introduce you to my workbench Slut.’ and tugging the red rope he dragged me to the workbench on the far side of the room.
Nervously I surveyed the wooden work bench.
Similar to a very low massage table, and quite narrow with two metal loops at the foot, two either side at the head, and one in the middle. I felt more than a little apprehensive when I spied two Roman rings suspended overhead and wondered what would be used for. Hardly daring to breath my eyes quickly glanced at the other items assembled on the table. I counted five more black leather collars nipple clamps and the blind fold. I was curious as to why there was a hair dryer, a couple of large feathers, a pastry cutter, among the neatly assembled toys. There was also a small jug kept warmed by a tea candle. My nostrils sniffed the air, and the aroma of coconut oil immediately fills my senses. I was pleased to note my favourite perfume ‘Red Door’ was included. It was all beginning to make sense. Recalling our initial contact, I remembered Master had given me detailed instructions about how to dress and had asked me what was my favourite perfume. Caught up in my thoughts I failed to hear my God’s next instruction:
‘Are you daring to disobey me again slut? ‘ I instructed you to place your right foot on the workbench. You must do as I commanded immediately or suffer the consequences.’

(God I bemoaned the fact I had forgotten my hearing aids because being hard of hearing resulted in me missing vital instructions from Master.)
Quickly I placed my right foot on the workbench.
Master appeared to struggle maintaining his stern composure, but quickly regained control. Selecting a black studded leather collar from the assembled toys he very slowly brushed it softly over my cunt then flicked it down my leg before securing it in place around my right ankle.
Selecting another collar Master Instructed: ‘Now your left foot Whore.’
I noted a look of triumph on his face as he teasingly traced it around my nipples then trailed it up and down my body in a menacing manner as if daring me to beg for mercy before securing it around my left ankle. My Lord then surveyed his handy work announcing in a monotone voice:
‘Now kneel down in front of me Slut and spread your knees apart and lift both your arms as if surrendering. Close your eyes and keep them closed.’
Immediately, I did as instructed and was taken completely by surprise when slime trail trickled down my legs onto the floor. Kneeling before Master in total surrender had my mind doing loop de loops. Apparently relinquishing my need to be in control was not only liberating but also a huge sexual turn on. Even though a sense of calm swept over me simultaneously every cell in my body tingled with undeniable carnal thirst.

Especially, given the fact that kneeling before Master I calculated my mouth was at just the right height as his groin and I yearned to take Master’s Cock deep in my throat. Somehow I managed to quell my burning compulsion. I detected a very gentle movement of air and surmised was Master circling around me and as each second passed my desire to peep was harder to resist. The aroma of Master’s masculine essence threatened to bring me asunder so I heaved a sigh of relief when finally Master grabbed my right hand, opened my fingers and gently tickled my palm. Judging by the feel I guessed it was another dog collar. Master trailed it up my arm, across both nipples, down my left arm before finally securing the collar around my left wrist. With the last remaining collar Master playfully flicked it between my legs teasing my moist swollen pussy lips. Twat juice trickled down between my thighs and as he secured the last collar around my right wrist I heard him almost inaudibly say:
‘Ha, I notice my Whore is making more slurpy juice for me to drink from her fury cup.’
With both my arms still held in total surrender I was starting to get concerned saying to myself:
‘You’ve done it again you fool perhaps this time you will learn your lesson not to mess with fire. How do I get myself out of this mess?’
At what seemed like forever before my Lord yanked my neck collar forcing me to stand and delivered his next instructions:
‘Time to open your eyes now Slut. It’s nearly time for carnal play. Let the wild debauchery rumpus begin.’
Perhaps Master guessed fear was beginning to take hold because when he angled my body onto the workbench his instructions were delivered with a softer more persuasive voice:
‘Lie on your back and splay your arms and legs wide Whore.’

Naked, and spreadeagled like a starfish on the work bench and entirely at Master’s mercy I felt vulnerable and more than a little apprehensive. I carefully studied Master’s demeaner for any clues that would put my mind at rest and noted his jaw was relaxed and decided that was hopefully a good sign. Master paused for a few moments. Perhaps to let me Centre myself before proceeding, or perhaps pleased with the picture of me secured on the workbench he was simply admiring his handy work? But I sensed a growing sense of urgency as he secured each of the five collars to the five metal loops around workbench. Then he trailed the sixth rope attached to my neck collar around my face, over both nipples, over my tummy then ever so softly tickled my Yoni sending warm fuzzies to every inch of my being. It was as if gentle rays of the early morning sunlight were reassuring my body that all was well. Master left the rope just a fraction away from the doorway to Lady Jane and it occurred to me maybe Master had given instructions to the rope to guard my pussy. I smiled inwardly and gave the rope the pet name of: ‘Tickle de de.’ Lastly he held the blind fold aloft. I lifted my head against the restraint of the dog collar eager to be bathed in darkness. This did not please Master so he impatiently pushed my head back onto the workbench. Waiting a few seconds to make sure I understood not to anticipate his actions before quickly positions the blind fold over my eyes and instructing:

‘Now Slut I have you captive. You are my plaything. You my Slut will soon be indulging your olfactory and tactile senses.’
Bathed in darkness was strangely comforting. It was like the closing my eyes on a bright glaring midday sun.
Engrossed in my thoughts I was pleasantly startled when my favourite perfume was sprayed over my breasts and around my Lady garden. The aroma wafting around me was intoxicating but my pleasure threshold doubled when Master gently probed his finger into my hungry wet pussy before trailing his finger under my nose. The fragrance of Master’s musky sun drenched skin and my slut butter mixed together with perfume was elixir of the Gods.
My nose quivered. I took several deep breathes and saturated my senses in the delectable fragrance of lust. My mind drifted back to a very treasured memory in another place and time many years ago.

At the time I was sixteen and I remember I was in the Blue Mountains lying naked on a warm rock beside a water fall. While luxuriating in the glorious sensations of the sun kissing my Yoni a water fall cascading to the river far below was showering me with its cool mist:
‘What fun!
Bathing Yoni in the mid day sun. Legs stretched wide
Warm rock warming my backside Cool mist on my skin
Finger slips in
Enjoying the bliss
Of a Yoni sun kiss.’
I felt ‘Tickle de de’ kissing my sun-soaked pussy lips and gradually as past memories drifted away like leaves floating down a river I heard the soft humming of the hair dryer. Delicious cool breezes tickled my nipples then lingered longer down below teasing my rose petal lips indulging my tactile senses with wave after wave of erotic bliss and I feared I would drown in my pussy juice. Apparently, Master was gliding ‘Tickle de de’ over my Lady Jane to double the bliss and I bet it surely tickled his fancy watching the expression of rapture on my face because above the music and the hum of the hairdryer I heard my God almost inaudibly say:
‘God I love it when Slut’s juices flow like a river of melted snow. I reckon there is nothing more delicious to quench my thirst than twat butter from Whore’s velvet purse.’
My Lady Jane responded immediately to Master’s unexpected accolade with yet another water fall of Maiden’s water.
Luxuriating in the delicious aromas wafting around me I was starting to wonder if I was indeed having an outer body experience because my thoughts tumbled out in rhyme when I imagined creating the perfect recipe for a perfume I labelled ‘Debauchery’:
Firstly, I would add lashings of frivolous sorcery.
Then to this witches brew
I would include a fetish or two.
Of course, a dash of raunchiness wouldn’t go astray.
For it would add to scent in many ways.
Also, I believe it would be a sin
To not include aroma of sun kissed skin.
Then I would stir the concoction clockwise twice.
Next, to give the perfume added spice I reckon I would blend liberal lashings of lust.
For this addition would simply be a must!
And a sprinkle of Red Door perfume would certainly enhance the mix.
Giving the recipe an extra kick.
But of course,
The most important ingredient is vulva sauce
Nor is there any doubt
Copious drops of precious precum must not to be left out.
And I am adamant you would need to fuck my brain Again! Again! And again!
Because I tell you true it would be a shame
To regard sex as a mindless game.’

Then I was jolted back to reality, or perhaps I died and floated up to heaven? Master was dancing a soft feather all over my body. The sensation was soothing and sensuous, but when he tickled my fanny with the feather it was tricky to hold my composure and not giggle! Giggle! Giggle! Because I recalled people complaining: ‘Particularly nasty weather!’ Or the jokers saying: ‘Ticklemyarsewithafeather!’ And also having heard the old wives tail that if a Witch is tickled until she giggles she looses all her magic powers so I hoped Master was not testing to see if I was indeed a Witch? Somehow, I stoically managed to suppress my weird sense of the ridiculous and forced my body to relax again. But that peaceful easy feeling soon dissipated. For a brief second tiny pin pricks rolled across my body gently piercing my skin followed by the soothing touch of a silky feather fluttering close behind. Although the pin pricks were not exactly painful, nevertheless the tantalising contrast between a taste of pain followed by pleasure certainly woke up every cell in my body. Basking in the glory of my sexual awakening I felt like a bear coming out of hibernation and drifted into a deep sleep.
Rod Stewart singing ‘Wake up Susie’ woke me with a jolt and it took me several seconds to figure out where I was and several more seconds more to realise I was not dreaming. Indeed, it seemed like eternity since Master left instructing me to lie still and to replay the unfolding of his seduction. Now as I wait for Master to return it is giving me time to reflect on my situation and as much as I dislike being a kill joy and despite the fact I enjoyed Master’s seduction, I worry that if I decide to stay, I may be placing myself in an uncompromising position. The longer I wait for Master to return the more intense is the feeling of foreboding:
‘Am I crazy? Am I putting myself in danger?’ As if to answer my question the song ‘There is a house in New Orleans’ is blasting in my headphones:
There is a house in New Orleans They call the Rising Sun
And it’s been the ruin of many a poor girl Dear God, I know I was one
Dear God, I know I was one’
I can’t help but worry: ‘Will this be my ruin too?’ Waiting is unbearable. My body is wired like an overly tight violin string. I try to reassure myself that I am not in the ‘House of The Rising sun’. But the burning question:
‘What has Master in store for me when he returns?’ The weird mixture of in-trepidation and nervous sexual arousal is nevertheless threatening my composure. If I stay, will I be able to be a slave for my Master and do his bidding? If I go will I be missing the opportunity to explore my inner Whore? While mulling these questions over and over in my head the Clash band singing: ‘Should I stay or should I go? Adding fuel to the fire and my misgivings are mounting. It occurs to me that Master deliberately chose the playlist of songs to test my mind set. 'Should I stay? Or should I go now’? Should I stay, or should I go now? If I go, there will be trouble
And if I stay, it will be double
So come on and let me know
Should I stay, or should I go?’