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Dear Master

Dear Master,

It is different now that you are gone. Sex is not as mysterious or adventurous as it once was.

I never knew when to expect you, but I knew what to do to please you. Kneeling in supplication, I always remembered that good slaves submitted at your feet, waiting eagerly for your instructions.

When you aren’t close to me in proximity or fucking me, I often think to myself, “This isn’t me.” I am a force of nature to be reckoned with at work and with friends and family.

With you? Once strong, I am now weak. My desire is to please you, to be rewarded by your kiss, your touch, and your dick.

You tested my control often. Once, you had me lay next to you on my bed, both of us fully clothed while you watched porn. You asked me to point out what I found desirable. Throughout it all, I wasn’t allowed to touch you or myself until you gave me permission. Lying there, I felt my nipples tighten and my pussy become wet, just by being close to you. You only made me wait thirty minutes, but it felt like an eternity, wanting to be dominated, owned by you.

I think the biggest myth about lust is that it is gentle and best when you are in love; however, lust can be all consuming, dark, and even a catharsis of intense emotion with the right person. Sometimes love is not even an emotion that ever enters the equation.

One of my favorite memories is when you returned from vacation and came by immediately after arriving in town. You bent me over my chair and spanked me for making you miss fucking me. My punishment lasted for so long, my legs were shaking and I could barely stand on my own. You reached between my legs and felt my soaking wet pussy.

“Naughty girl,” you said and then laughed.

I brought a paddle after that. Yesterday, I was shopping for new toys when I found a riding crop. My brain instantly remembered you spanking me. I don’t even remember paying for it, but it sits in my closet, a lustful reminder of my dark desires.

The last time I saw you, you watched me pleasure myself while I described a memory. I touched my breasts, cupping them, pinching my nipples that were encased in nipple clamps. Under your watchful gaze, I spread my legs so that you could see me begin to rub my clit while I continued my dialogue. I begin to writhe on the bed, my gasps and moans interrupting the dialogue at times, but I continued my story.

“You sound wet,” you reply after awhile.

“I am, master.” I reply, barely able to respond. Even though I’m close to climaxing, something eludes me. I am so close, yet so far from that moment.

Suddenly, I stop touching myself. I know what it is I need. Never taking my eyes off of you, I make my way towards you. My pride in shambles, I crawl to where you sit. I prop myself up on my knees to place my hands on your thighs and gaze into your eyes. Lust, domination, salvation, and damnation peer back into my soul.

I am Pandora, seeking the answers to questions best unanswered. I want. I need. I submit.

I reach with shaking hands to undress you. You stop me and capture one of my tortured nipples with your mouth. I begin to shake and moan while you continue to ravish my nipple. As I feel myself getting closer to orgasm, you stop, only to pull me up and toss me on the bed. Quickly, you strip off your clothes and climb on top of me. My salvation.

You capture my wrists and push my arms above my head. Trapped, I wait for instruction, for completion. You kiss me, a punishing kiss, a kiss of ownership, domination. Eagerly, I respond by wrapping my legs around you.

Lost in your kisses, I don’t remember my clothes disappearing or the nipple clamps being removed. I do remember you kissing down my body and ravishing my nipples again. Left than right, right than left, torturing me until I lose all sense of coherence. Ripples of pleasure run through my entire body, every part of me focused solely on reaching my climax.

“Turn over, slave girl.” “Let me give you the spanking you deserve,” you whisper in my ear and then bite my earlobe.

I turn over and feel your hand caress my butt cheek. I arch my hips in invitation, needing this punishment, your domination. My damnation.

You bring your hand down hard, the smack of skin-to-skin contact echoing in the room. My breathing becomes ragged, uneven. You spank me again, but this time on the other cheek. As you continue to give me my punishment, I feel my pussy getting wetter and my body throbbing with desire. Suddenly, you use your other hand to pull my hair so that my body arches and my head falls back.

Your hand in my hair tightens while your other hand ceases my punishment to reach between my legs to feel my clit.
“Your clit is so fucking hard and so big, slave girl,” you exclaim and I start to convulse, your words the catalyst for my orgasm. My orgasm is intense and hits me so hard that I squirt all over your hand.

Out of breath and needing a moment to recover, I turn over and try to control my breathing. You lay next to me in the bed, feeding me your fingers so that I can lick myself off of you.

After I finish licking your fingers, I get on my hands and knees and begin to kiss my way down your body. I start at your nipples, licking and biting them in tandem. Right, then left, then right again. Then I kiss my way down your abs and take you fully into my mouth.

I love the way you taste and feel in my mouth. Using my hands, tongue, lips, and my entire mouth to bring you pleasure makes my pussy wetter. Just by feeling your hands in my hair, your groans in my ear, I become determined to make you violent with lust.

You pull me off of you to flip me over onto my back. You lean down to kiss me, biting my lip as you end the kiss. Pulling on my legs so that I slide down the bed, you enter me with one hard thrust. I moan feeling pleasure erupt all throughout my body.

“You love it when I fuck you hard, don’t you?” you rasp in-between thrusts.

I do. I can’t deny my body this pleasure. Feeling my legs pushed over my head and you pounding my pussy, pushes me close to another intense orgasm.

My senses are over stimulated. Your lips seek mine hungrily, violently, as if you are marking me yours. I can smell our individual scents intertwining, the air filled with our unique scent, our moans of pleasure, our dark need.

You move faster, deeper. My moans become sobs of ecstasy, of spiraling desire. My nails dig into your back, urging you on, demanding more. I bite your earlobe, and I can feel your body shudder in response. We move together, a frenzied dance of motion, panting and thrusting, both of us so close to the edge.

“More,” I demand.

In response, you grip my legs tighter and thrust deeper. You lean down to bite my nipple-hard and I scream my climax. My body shudders and I feel my muscles clamp down hard around your dick.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum” you gasp and you thrust even harder which triggers another orgasm for me.

You collapse on top of me, both of our chests heaving, trying to gulp down air. It is in this moment I realize that I am addicted to you. I need this submission as well as your domination. It frees me, completes me. I know that you will tire of our games way before I do. You are my damnation and my salvation.

You roll off of me and onto your back. I know that you can never know my secret. My secret is this: I love being your fuck toy and would do anything you asked. There is no shame, just submission.

You reach for me. Need arises. I give in, I submit.

End of Story