Love Like Religion

My Master is the most beautiful person to ever walk this world. He is my God. He is my life. I will never cease to be grateful for His presence, His power over me, His attention, and His life in itself.

I wake Him with a gentle kiss. It is early Saturday morning, and if He wants to sleep in, He will tell me now. He opens His eyes slowly, and smiles upon seeing me. I smile back. If Master is happy, I am happy.

"Good morning, Luna," He says.

"Good morning, Master," I reply.

I pull back the covers and slide into bed next to Him. I like to lay next to Him when He's just woken up, and He has never told me off yet. I know He is naked, I have already dressed in the clothes He laid out for me while I was sleeping.

My eyes linger on His body, beautiful and perfectly formed. I trace my fingers over His face, and He watches me in amusement. I run them over His lips and He playfully nips at my fingertips. Of course, I squeal like a little girl. He smiles, that gorgeous, perfect smile.

I run my hands over His chest, toying with the tiny patch of chest hair that is sprinkled there, down to His abdomen. Finally I reach the iron rod of flesh, at attention as always. His skin feels like silk beneath my hands.

Continuing, I run my hands over His inner thighs. He laughs and I realise that I am moving lower down the bed the further my hands travel.

"Come here, Luna," Master instructs. I move back to lay at His side, facing Him, and He rolls over to face me. I stare into His eyes, a deep, luscious brown that I could drown in without even trying.

He watches me as I study Him, marvelling at His exquisiteness. His eyes are serious now.

I focus on those eyes. I watch them as they travel over my face and down my neck, analysing my body. He pulls the blankets completely off, and I am presented with the opportunity to visually explore His naked body for what must be the hundredth time - yet it always feels like the first. I marvel at the colour of His skin, tanned next to mine, which is pale in comparison. I drink in the sight of His body, lightly muscled, marked with the occasional tattoo. His left nipple is pierced, I toy with it lightly.

"Luna?"

"Yes, Master?"

"What are you thinking about?"

He asks me this often. Sometimes I can't answer Him the way I want to. The words don't come out, and if they do, they never sound as meaningful as I mean them to. How can I tell Him He is God personified?

"I am just grateful to have You, Master." It's the only thing I can muster.

I kiss the spot beneath His ear, and leave a trail of kisses down the hollow of His neck. He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer. I can feel His heated rod of silk pressing against my navel through my clothes.

He kisses me then, a deep and passionate kiss that leaves me breathless, then slowly He begins an exploration of His own.

He lifts me from the bed with one hand and removes my top in one fluid motion with the other. He throws it casually onto the floor. He then turns His attention to my skirt. He slides it down past my hips and then it too is discarded. He lays me down with the utmost care and runs His hands through my hair, kissing me full on the mouth, His tongue searching for mine. I don't deny Him. He breaks the kiss and moves down to tease my nipple with His tongue, nipping lightly, sucking ever so gently. He moves to the other, repeating the treatment. I feel the love for my Master turn to lust, and it burns me with fierce intensity. The heat that blazes in my nipples spreads to my pussy, filling me with an insatiable hunger for my Master.

He lays a trail of kisses from my neck to my navel, travelling still further south until He reaches His ultimate destination. Before Master, I was a virgin. I'm glad for that, because my Master is the only man I will ever experience. I am not tainted with memories of sweaty, light-headed, meaningless nights with men I don't remember as so many of friends have been. I had had some experience with men and sexual deeds before I met Master, but all were disappointing, until I found Him.

Master takes His time inspecting me. He orders that I keep myself clean-shaven at all times, except for a thin strip of hair as a mark of my womanhood. I have shaved carefully this morning, and I hope He likes what He sees.

He seems satisfied, and places a kiss on my skin. The hunger intensifies, and I struggle to keep my breathing steady. I can feel His breath on my skin. I close my eyes - I can't look at Him without wanting to beg Him desperately to fuck me, take me, use and abuse me. Unexpectedly I feel His tongue on my clit, a long stroke with the flat of His tongue that leaves me breathless. My eyes snap open. A moan escapes my lips and He smiles wickedly before continuing His pleasurable torture. He varies His strokes - teasing me with the tip of His tongue, then a long, flat stroke, taking my clit into His mouth and sucking gently. He runs His tongue over the smooth skin of my outer lips, dips into the depths of me, devouring me like only Master can. I am openly crying out now, rocking my hips into Him. He presses me back down on the bed, instructing me to be still. He continues to devour me, His tongue working steadily towards its goal. It takes every bit of my self-control to keep my body from rocking into His touch.

"Master, please," I beg desperately, "I need You."

He looks up at me and smiles again, that wicked smile that melts me. He rises up my body until His lips meet mine, and I can feel His rigid cock pressing at my entrance. I taste myself on His lips, on His tongue. Without warning, He enters me in one long, hard stroke. I moan gratefully as the emptiness inside me is filled.

He thrusts again, deeper, His eyes locked onto mine.

Yes, Master, You have control over me, I am Yours. I am helpless without You, lost without Your guidance. I need You, Master, and I love the way You show your love, ramming into me time and time again, filling me, breaking me.

He keeps His thrusts deep but slow, a beautiful, agonising torment. I rock into Him, wanting Him harder, faster, deeper. I want everything He can give me. I want Him to abandon Himself in my body, care not for the way my body reacts. My sweet captor, my loving conqueror, the missing part of my soul.

He kisses my neck gently, then sinks His teeth into the flesh of my shoulder as He increases the tempo of His thrusts. I cry out in pain and pleasure, body on fire. He thrusts into me hard, deep, and fast, building a steady rhythm to lead to my demise and His glory.

He assaults my body with His, grasping at my hair, forcing Himself brutally deeper. I feel Him battering at my womb, the pain insignificant in the face of the pleasure. I can feel my orgasm building rapidly, and I know it won't be long before I can no longer control my body at all.

"Master, may I please come?" I breathe, barely able to get the words out.

He smiles at me as He continues His assault, but gives no answer.

My orgasm is rising and so is my panic. "Master, may I please come?" I repeat, louder. No reply. I am right on the brink of my sweet release and the panic fills me completely. "Master, if I am not allowed to come, please stop..."

"Come with me, Luna, when the time's right," He says. I know that timing is everything. Somehow I manage to stop myself from coming until I feel His cock pulse and explode. We ride the wave of our pleasure together, Him holding me tightly against His body until the spasms of our bodies have subsided. He kisses me deeply, and relaxes His grip a little, still holding me close to Him. I feel the swelling in His cock start to diminish, but I know He wont go fully limp, He never does. He stays inside me for what seems like eternity as my thank yous tumble from my lips. He presses His lips to my forehead for a brief moment, and slowly removes Himself from me. I'm reluctant to let Him leave my body, but I can't stop it and in a moment He's gone. He lays gazing at me, and I turn to Him again, pressing my lips to the hollow of His neck, tasting the salty sheen of sweat that coats His skin, and no doubt mine.

"I love You, Master," I mumble against His chest.

"I love you too, Luna."

Satisfied that all is right with the world, I settle down to nap, knowing that Master Himself will be resting. As I'm drifting off to sleep, a thought enters my conscience from nowhere and I freeze.

"Master?"

"Yes, Luna?" He replies sleepily.

"You are Jewish, aren't You?"

He laughs. "A lapsed Jew perhaps, but yes, all the same. You've known that for as long as you've known me."

I have. I've known that Master is Jewish, but that He rebelled against it, hating the restrictions. It is just like my Master to hate restrictions.

"I know, Master, but... I've just thought..." I trail off as tears overcome me, and I fight to keep them from falling.

Master looks concerned. "What is it, Luna?"

"It is just..." I try to gather the right words. " I was just thinking, Master, that if Hitler had got what he wanted, You wouldn't be here right now... I wouldn't have You..." my words mix into a jumble of babbling sobs.

"Luna." He wraps His arms around me tighter. "My sweet Luna. Perhaps you're right, but I am here, and I will always be here. You have me, Luna, and I have you. We are all we need." He nuzzles my neck gently and kisses my earlobe.

"I'm sorry, Master, I just... I can't bear the thought of not having You." my tears slow, drying in crystallised trails on my face.

"If you never had me, Luna," He whispers softly into my ear, "you would never miss me."

"Master, forgive me for saying so, but I think You're wrong."

"How so?" He raises His eyebrow, a look that would normally have me melting under His very stare.

"Because, Master, without even knowing You, I would have missed You. I would have craved your touch and attention as much as I do now, I just wouldn't have known your face."

"My sweet baby," He says, drawing me closer still. "I do adore you."

"Master, You are my God. You are my soul, my life." somehow I manage to say it. He looks at me for a second with an expression I can't place. Then His face breaks into a smile.

"Crazy girl," is all He says, but I know He doesn't think I'm crazy. He understands that I need Him desperately, like a religion, to control my life and make me better for Him, for Him to mould me into something worth possessing.

And this is how it's meant to be. This is my life now, and I honestly can't think of anything I want, except for another taste of His lips. He grants me this simple pleasure, and I fall into slumber, wrapped in the warmth of His arms.