"Arise slave." My Master threw back the covers to reveal my naked sleeping form. I no longer blush in his presence as he observes my nakedness. All pretenses at modesty were lost long ago.
I came to him after a lengthy Email dialogue where he owned my very existence. At first I balked and vacated his ownership, but he was a wise and patient Master and tolerated my lack of conviction in the beginning, knowing I could never deny the awakening that was taking place in me. His patience in the end he knew would no doubt be rewarded.
I arise as he has commanded for to deny his ownership of me is to deny myself. I couldn't have conceived these thoughts would ever exist in my mind, or that I would stand trembling before this man, whom I despise and love in the same instant.
I despise him for he knows who I am, better than I know myself, something he arrogantly reminds me of almost daily. He had said he would never insist I come serve him real time, and he never did, But each day he reminded me of the obsession that had consumed me since he took my hand and started to guide me down the lusty path of my true destiny. He had told me in the end I would beg to serve him real time and I had.
I love him because he has used his knowledge of me. In his experience in Mastering others and his understanding of my desires, he has taken me to the depths of depravity I crave and has shown me who I truly am. When I first arrived after wantonly begging him to allow I serve at his feet I blushed when he commanded I remove my clothing and don the 'uniform of my whoring', as he called it.
He had instructed I dress comfortably on the flight from my home to his. He had advised me it would be the last time I would be comfortably dressed and not acting like the slut I was inside, until time for me to depart. He had suggested I dress as a grandmotherly matron, and relish the last time for a while where I would be looked upon as a lady in public.
He picked me up at the airport, and I felt my sex moisten and throb the moment I was in his presence. I knew my desire was complete at that moment and I was powerless to refuse any debauched depraved act this man, my Master, might require of me. But then that was why I was here.
In his pickup on the way to his small ranch, he commanded I lift my skirts and reveal my 'whore's cunt'. I did this without hesitation though the blush on my cheeks was hotter than Hades fires. Though my cheeks flamed with my embarrassment as I removed the last pair of panties I would wear for a time, I desired the lusty abandon he had so eloquently described in the voluminous number of emails we had exchanged. I wanted the endless parade of cocks and cunts I would be required to service and whore for. I cared nothing for self-pride or discretion in this place so far from where anyone would know of it in my other sedate, 'normal' world. I craved and obsessed for the command that would require I become the shameless slut I was at the pit of my being. The endless hours of my allowing my body to be used to satisfy the lust of others, for in their service I found my purpose, my destiny, my little girl slut inside had been allowed to live. I had never felt so fulfilled in all my many years.
When Master required I dress as a slut, in a skirt so short I might well not have even worn one, and we went to a rough appearing bar, I felt the flame on my cheeks again, but that was the last time. We played pool that night, and every time I bent to shoot, the skirt would rise up in back and my ass and whore's cunt would be on display. Soon the table we were playing was surrounded by men and women, watching as I strutted around the table as the slut I had come to realize I truly was.
Soon I wasn't even bothering to tug my skirt back down to cover my nakedness after a shot, and as it rode up, above my ample ass I confidently strolled around the playing area. Yet, I trembled with fear inside, though I knew Master carried a gun secretly tucked away under his jacket should things get out of hand.
It wasn't until days later I discovered Master actually owned the bar that was the place of my 'coming out' and the men and women there had actually participated in scenes like this many times before. Several days later I would also realize many of these strange faces were actually ranch hands and servants of my Master.
After I stopped pulling my skirt back in place, and began to relish the feelings I got as I strutted like a shameless whore around the pool table, Master made a gesture with his hands.
After this as I passed by these assembled men and women my slutiness on display, enroute to the place on the table from which I would make my next shot, hands would reach out and fondle my body. The gentle caresses of my exposed ass and crotch and my breasts under my thin cotton shirt turned to roughness that added to the lusty feelings of abandon I felt.
As if on queue when Master sunk the last ball on the table, a large man stepped up behind me and roughly turned me around to face him. His hand reached for the front of my shirt and in an instant, my torn and tattered blouse lay on the floor. An instant later the tiny skirt joined the tattered blouse. I stood before this behemoth of a man clad only in garter belt and stockings.
His huge hands on my shoulders forced me to my knees, and his erect cock was freed from behind his denim fly. It was the largest cock I had ever seen. Its uncircumcised length easily 10 inches and yet only half erect. He didn't ask me to service him he merely grasped me under my jawbone and pried my mouth open with his fingers pressing roughly into the hinges of my jaw while he guided his huge cudgel into my mouth with the other hand.
He tasted of sweat and piss as he ram jacked his stiffening erection in and out of my mouth and throat. At first this assault of my face and throat with this huge cock caused me to gag and I was actually repulsed by the shear animal savagery of this cruel oral rape. But as I relaxed and grew comfortable with this behemoth fuck tool sliding in and out of my throat, the gagging stopped and I began to return his efforts as I sucked this lengthening pole of manhood.
Once he was hard, he stopped me, and lay back on the edge of the table. Lifting me up he sat me down on his fully erect woman abuser and it slipped into my tight little pussy without preamble or resistance, I was so wet from the activities to this point. I drew a deep gasp as his entire length went into me on the first thrust.
Fully impaled on his cock, he elbow walked across the table with me riding the pole in my cunt, and lay back.
Master walked to my side, and gently caressed my cheek. "Fuck him slut. Fuck him for all you are worth." Then turning to the crowd assembled tightly around us, spoke again. "She is yours to use as you please, but no physical harm is to come to her."
Master retreated the few steps to the small table that held my drink and his beer and sat to watch over me, protectively.
The cock inside me began to thrust upward and the man that was its owner under me, growled, "Fuck me whore." Not able to resist, nor wanting to, I drew my knees across the table so my legs rested on either side of this beast of a man and began to raise and lower myself, drawing this huge cock in and out of my fevered cunt. Slow and steady at first, my tempo increased as I felt the juices in my 'whore's cunt' lubricate the massive pole that was impaling me and the walls of my passage adjusted to the massive presence and started to lustily nibble at it.
As my lust grew my efforts increased in tempo. My lust began to rise and I had to feel the release my slutiness promised. Soon I was fucking this fencepost-sized impaler with the lusty abandon of the slut I truly was.
I felt hands grip my ass as another took up position behind me. I felt his spit drop onto my brown star and his cock began to press into me. I wailed at the pain, but begged shamelessly for more. I turned my head to look at the perpetrator of this backdoor assault. A huge black man kneeled behind me, I wailed at him as I continued to fuck the cock that already used my whore's cunt.