Dearest Master

“Master! Please!”

Sweat poured down her face and her breathing was ragged as Trisha gasped the words. She’d been tied spread-eagle on the table for two hours or more, and her Master had not let her rest without torment for all of this time. Now she was close to orgasm for what must have been the fifteenth time in ten minutes…would he let her finally slip over the edge??

Moments later she felt the head of his huge cock probing the entrance to her slit, and then plowing deep into her. She moaned in gratitude as she became stuffed full of him, the feeling enhanced by the large butt plug in her ass.

As soon as he was firmly embedded within her hot sheath he began to slap her breasts, first the left, and then the right, until both were quite pink and tears rolled down her face. Obediently she kept her lips pressed tightly shut and her complaints were no more than muffled moans and whimpers. She knew better than to wail aloud except in orgasm.

The Master then held on to her breasts as he began to thrust harder and faster, and once again Trisha’s climax began to build, while she struggled to keep it under control until permission was given. Oh how good it all felt, and as much as she would love to feel the orgasm explode through her, she reveled in the torment of being on the edge as well.

Moments later she realized that her right hand was free, and the Master was pressing something into her palm. It was her pink plastic vibrator, already revved up and buzzing in her hand.

“Hold it against your clit while I fuck you, Slut,” commanded her Master sternly as he knelt between her legs and continued pumping her furiously. “Don’t you come yet though, do you understand?”

“Yes Master!” Trisha panted enthusiastically as she reached between her legs and carefully applied the little buzzing appliance to her sensitized clit.

Instantly she was moaning loudly and tossing her head back and forth, the sensations sending her spinning. She knew it was out of her control now and all she could do as she came closer and closer to the edge was to beg “Please, please, please, MASTER! PLEEEAASE!”

“CUM FOR ME, YOU SLUT! CUM, MY CUNT!” the Master roared and she instantly let go and crashed into a wall of sensation that totally crushed her as she screamed and sobbed her release, feeling his hot juices flood her insides and spill out around his cock. Then everything was black and quiet for a time.

She opened her eyes soon after to find herself untied and her Master stroking her hair and smiling down at her. “I adore you Master,” she said, smiling back at him.

“Of course you do, my insatiable pet,” chuckled Master, “I’m the only master you’ve had with the time and strength to keep up with you,

and

your never ending need for discipline and attention.”

Trisha giggled at this, nodding in agreement, and kissed her Master boldly before replying, “Master, you know you adore me as well, for those very reasons. If I wasn’t so insatiable you would be bored with me in an instant.”

For this impertinence Trisha received a hard pinch to her left nipple, along with a kiss on the mouth, which muffled her whimpering moan of pleasure. The longing and need began to rise in her again, and her Master, sensing this, abruptly ended the kiss saying “You are correct, my Slut,” as he gathered his clothing and headed towards the bathroom to shower. “Clean up this kitchen, and then you may begin your homework.”

Trisha immediately felt as if the room had grown cooler, but knew better than to cover herself with a robe or clothing. She set about putting the kitchen back to rights, lining the chairs up around the table, after scrubbing its surface and removing the straps from the table legs and special hooks that were installed on the underside. The bonds were tucked back into their drawer in the pantry, and then she gathered the toys, a vibrator, a pair of ben wa balls, a dildo and…oh my, the butt plug was still in her! She’d grown so accustomed to it that she hadn’t noticed its small tight presence in her ass. That would have to remain where it was until Master advised her of his wishes…but the rest of the playthings went to the sink to be thoroughly washed and sanitized, before they were packed away in a case that went into the same drawer in the pantry as the bonds.

Now that the room had been put in order she went to the parlor to begin her “homework.”

From the first time they’d been together, after every session, Trisha was obliged to write her Master a letter, describing their time together from her point of view, in detail, including not only her perceptions of what went on but what she was feeling during each experience. There were times when she enjoyed this, and simply couldn’t wait to share with her Master all the things she had enjoyed and learned during their session.

There were other times however, when this exercise was torture far beyond any inflicted on her body. If the Master had asked her to be specific about something new they had tried, often something she’d reacted to poorly, then writing about it felt like a violation of her mind, her final private place exposed.

Today this was not the case, for today was one of those days when she looked forward to telling her Master exactly what was on her mind and in her heart, as he’d left her feeling so languid, and softened, and blissfully owned. She heard the water running in the bathroom and smiled as she knelt before the cocktail table with her writing tablet before her. Taking up her pen she marked the date, and then in her flowing script began her reminiscence with Dearest Master…

I can’t help but smile this morning, though you have left me exhausted and sore, I feel so utterly owned and enslaved, so very securely wrapped in it.

Last night, when you told me that I would be joining you at the club as your guest where you were performing, I couldn’t have been more thrilled. I was also a little afraid, as I remembered you had once promised that you had special plans for me out in public, and something told me that this would be the night. When you made a point of reminding me of the long standing “no panties rule” I was sure that you had special plans.

I thought right away that my long, black sheath dress, with the thin spaghetti straps and the slits in the sides that went from mid-thigh to ankle, would be perfect. You would easily be able to reach under my skirt via the slits, and by wearing only a bustier under it my breasts would be pushed up and you would easily be able to reach down the front of my dress to access them…I am so glad you were pleased with my appearance and choice of clothing.

I was proud to be by your side as we went into the club, and into your dressing room, and liked being introduced to your acquaintances, except when we met that stage manager Mike. I knew by the look in his eye that he knew something, too much, about me, and was relieved that he didn’t follow us into that little closet of a space where you get ready for work.

As you kissed me the moment the door was shut, and then pushed me into your chair I forgot all about Mike, and I was so very glad to lift my skirt for you, and spread my legs wide, until you took out that egg vibrator and told me what you intended! I couldn’t believe you expected me to hold that inside of me through the whole show, especially while you held the remote in your pocket while onstage for your half hour act.

All I could do was accept it of course, but inside I wondered and worried a million things Master! What if it slipped out of me while I walked? What if it was loud and somebody heard my whole insides humming? What if I came? How would I suppress my moans and shudders? I didn’t dare to refuse you Master, and didn’t wish to disappoint, while at the same time I was angry that you put me in that position, and excited, and afraid, and hoping that you were funnier than ever this evening, and that everyone was too busy laughing loud and long to notice me as I buzzed and blushed and shivered in my seat all evening.

As you escorted me to my seat, I knew you sensed my fear when you whispered “Didn’t you once tell me that you had a secret desire to be exposed?” That remark was like having ice cubes dropped down the front of my dress…and is why I gasped and shivered so at the time. I was so hot and so excited, but also so afraid that you would make sure I was exposed and humiliated on a grand scale. When you told me that Mike would occupy the chair next to mine at our table near the stage door, and that he would be looking out for me until you were free to do so yourself, I felt very edgy. Mike’s leering grin as he assured me I was in good hands didn’t help at all.

I sat and ordered the one glass of wine I was allowed, per your instructions, so that I wouldn’t lose sensitivity, and watched you walk away. I jumped as the egg began to vibrate deep inside of me without warning. Mike grinned again and winked at me knowingly, while my face burned with a blush that I felt must glow in the dim club.

I tried everything to ignore the feelings between my legs, and to escape the thoughts in my head. I tried to ignore Mike’s hand on my knee, his look of concern as I gasped at one point and then took a long drink of the ice water he’d ordered for me. I tried to concentrate on your voice, the jokes you were telling, and the faces of the people in the audience as they laughed. None of these things could distract me fully from the torment of those vibrations.

I could feel my dress getting dampened a bit beneath me where I was sitting on it. I could hardly believe that in this setting my body would respond as it was! Humiliation I expected. I even expected to feel somewhat turned on and excited. I didn’t expect the need to orgasm to ever hit me until much later when I was far from that place. There it was however, the beginnings of an orgasm that I simply didn’t want, at least not at the moment.

I was so relieved when fifteen minutes later, the vibrations stopped. I took a deep breath, then another, and a deep drink from my water glass, my wine long since depleted. I began to gather my wits and even managed a shaky grin at Mike when he winked at me and squeezed my knee.

You were nearing the end of your spot onstage, and the audience was in an uproar of hilarity. Finally able to pay full attention I began to relax, and enjoy, and laugh, until suddenly the buzzing was back!

My laughter turned to moans and sighs that were fortunately masked by the noise of the rest of the crowd. The vibrations were stronger than before, and the little break I’d had made me more sensitive, it was all more intense. I knew that I was heading towards a powerful orgasm, and I didn’t know how to stop it. I struggled to contain myself, wrestled with the idea of running to the ladies room, and prayed that the loud raucous laughter of the audience would continue so that I could remain unnoticed if I did lose control.

I looked at you onstage and found you looking directly at me. I felt my face flush as you winked, and then reached again for my water with a shaky hand. Mike noticed my distress, and took the glass from my hand before I spilled it. He leaned close to me and spoke in my ear, “Lean in close to me, dear, as if you are trying to whisper to me, just as you go over the edge. If the noise level in here dies down I will help you to muffle yourself.”

I couldn’t credit it. I was here in the midst of a comedy club, surrounded by people on all sides, in public! But what was going on inside of me was not about to be stopped, and the realization came that the fear and shame were exciting me as much as the vibrations I felt against my g-spot.

I looked up at you again on the stage, and again caught your eye. My breathing was ragged, and my face surely did glow with a blush and fine sheen of sweat, and as I watched you I thought,

this is what my Master wants of me, this will please him

. I am sure you noticed, although you continued with your monologue, the slow smile that spread over my face as my eyes half closed. I could feel your eyes on me as that smile faded, and I did in fact turn and lean into Mike, and spoke into his ear “Help me. Cover me!” while gripping his hand tightly. “Do it little girl,” he encouraged.

I bit down hard on my lower lip as I finally stopped battling the sensations that were trying to take over, and take over they did! I was knocked nearly breathless by the rush of heat and sensations that pounded through me, as if in a giant wave, and then melted into moans as smaller waves of warmth flowed over and through me for what must have been several minutes.

I never lost awareness of the sounds around me, though they were dimmer, as if heard from underwater for a moment or two. When it was finally over and Mike leaned away I was relieved to find that nobody in the club had ever noticed me for a minute, all eyes were glued on you and everyone was laughing at what was your final joke of the set. Along with relief I felt extreme gratitude to Mike, who’d laughed loud and long in my ear and had pressed my forehead down on his shoulder, making it look as if I was just leaning on him while weakened by laughter.

Once again my eyes met yours, as you were thanking your audience and saying goodnight, and you immediately blew me a little kiss, which of course caused many heads to turn my way, folks curious as to whom you were sending your kisses to. My face flushed hotter as I felt as if anyone who looked directly at me must know exactly what had just happened. I dropped my eyes to the tablecloth before me, and then thought

I hope they DO know

, as I looked up at you and blew you a kiss in return.

And so, Dearest Master, I close now with thanks to you for a lovely evening out, for new experiences, and lessons learned. I thank you for allowing me to serve you, I adore you for allowing me to pleasure you, and I am deeply grateful for the shameful slut you have brought to the surface in me.

Trisha signed her letter to her Master, and left it there on the table where he would find and read it later. She then made her way to the bathroom to ask him what to do in regards to the butt plug still invading her rear door. Several hours later, the answer to that question resulted in another homework assignment.

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