When I heard the door close, his words came back to me in a rush:
"When I close this door, here is what you will do. You will stand, lock the door, and strip naked. Then you will find your dildo and clean it. You will take your dildo and your phone and lay on your bed. You will remember tonight, and get lost in the feelings of submission to me. And you will masturbate with your hands and with your dildo. But you will not orgasm. I will call you later with further instructions. You won't fail me, will you Pet?"
I scrambled to my feet as quickly as I could. I was good at following instructions. My coaches had grilled me for countless hours about the order of movements needed to reach my goals. Don't think, just move.
Stand up: check.
I reached out to turn the deadbolt with a click.
Lock the door: check.
I quickly pulled off my shorts and stepped out of them, carelessly kicking them to the side.
Strip naked: check.
I hurried to my sofa and grabbed my dildo, still nestled behind the pillow, resting on the cushion.
Find your dildo: check.
I rushed to the kitchen sink because it was closest. I washed it thoroughly but as quickly as I could with hand soap and warm water. Then dried it as completely as I could with a paper towel. I wanted it to be perfect. It needed to be flawlessly clean, and quickly. Because my Owner had demanded it. And I wanted to do anything to please him. Even though I knew he was not physically present, I would know if I failed him. And I would tell him, of course. I could never hide my failure. Any deceit, even just not mentioning a tiny mistake in obedience, was intolerable.
Clean your dildo: check.
I rushed back to the sofa as quickly as I could. I glanced at the laptop with the video still recording and thought about turning it off. What if it filled my hard drive? What if I lost it?
But I had not been told to do that. And it seemed a distraction from my Owner's, my Master's, instructions. So I ignored it. It did not matter. My obedience was the only thing that was important.
My cell phone was on the table next to the sofa. I scooped it up as I blew past, on my way to the bedroom.
Once there, I walked straight to the bed and laid down on the comforter, not even pulling it back. I was not told to. It would have been a distraction.
Take your dildo and your phone and lay on your bed: Check.
I lay on my back, my legs spread themselves without effort as I thought back over the evening. I was a Yogabot. I was a sex slave. I was property. I was a hypnotized puppet. I was kissed. I was wanton. I was topless. I was shameless before him. He became my Master. And he probably became my boyfriend too, although we had not said either.
He was my Master. He was my Owner. But he was Mark. He was not my Owner, who happened to be Mark. He was my Owner exactly because he was Mark. Who else could have done this to me?
I thought about how he ordered me to shove my hand down my shorts and masturbate for him. I thought how kind it was that he did not make me humiliate myself by being nude while I did it. I knew that was why I wanted to belong to him. I was grateful for his concern and his care.
But the other part of my brain wanted to be humiliated. I wanted him to make me hump a lamppost nude in the middle of a crowded street so everyone would know what a hopeless, sex craved slut I was.
The thrill from being HIS hopeless, sex craved slut drove me to obey, however he wanted me.
I had been in relationships where sex was involved. But it almost seemed like a ritual or some nice hobby we did together. "Oh, I'm going out with him. Well, we should make love. OK." Or "Oh, he's cute, and he wants a one-night stand on Spring Break. Yeah, that sounds like fun. I need to get off, and I just need to be careful."
But this was primal. My sexual drive was not an afterthought. It was an obsession. I had never been so horny. In fact, I had never thought I could be so horny. I had turned into an animal or a succubus. At this moment, had he called me and told me to quit my job and go out on the street and turn tricks for him, giving him all the money, I probably would have done it. What was left of my rational thought after the trancing, was blown away by the firestorm of arousal.
Yet it was more than raw lust. It was Mark. It was as if he had reached in an unlocked a raging monster (as he had said). And that monster wanted to devour him and be devoured by him.
I wanted the world to know that I was his. And I wanted what I had told him -- to be his completely, without reservation. I wanted him to hurt me, abuse me, humiliate me, but never harm me. I wanted him to love me, care for me, cook for me, protect me, respect me, but never stop controlling me. I wanted him to make me strip and kneel for him in a crowded room so everyone could see that I belonged to him. But I also wanted him to control the room, so that he would fill it in a way that would keep me safe.
My hand moved faster than a vibrator, in small strokes over my clit. I was so wet already that the dildo would have slid in without hesitation. But I took the time to slide it in and out of my mouth first. I sucked it as if it were his cock. I licked it from bottom to top. I teased its head. I took it as deeply as I could and moaned into it before sliding it out and licking the bottom. I imagined how he would react and it made me tremble.
Then I slid it slowly down my body, remembering how difficult it had been to move my hands slowly up my torso. And in one, swift movement, shoved it completely into my waiting cunt. I pushed it hard and fast.
The first penetration sent a shock to me. I was lubricated, but not stretched. So it forced its way into my pussy and it felt a little like it was splitting me in two. An instant later, the discomfort disappeared and was replaced by a complete fullness as it stimulated my G spot.
I was already on verge of cumming, although I knew I would not. And I was strangely disappointed by how quickly the pain receded. I remembered twisting my nipples and did so again. When did I become a pain slut? What did it matter? I was Master's toy.
On an instinct, I did something I had done only a very few times before. I flipped myself over so that I was face down and lifted my ass in the air. I was still obedient -- "lay one the bed" did not say what position to be in. I elevated my ass so that my face was forced so far into the mattress that I had to turn my head to the side to breathe. I felt like an animal waiting to be bred.
And, I removed my dildo from my pussy, feeling a deep pang of regret when I did it. My cunt quivered in response and started to spasm in what may have become a ruined orgasm, had I not resisted it. My pussy had become nothing more than a fuck hole and wanted the dildo back to fill the emptiness in it.
But I had another wild idea. It was not thought, so much as instinct. What would a wanton slut do to please her Master? How could she show how far she would go?
I stopped teasing my clit long enough to spread my cheeks. Then I started to slide the dildo into my asshole.
I had never had anal sex before. A couple of my lovers had asked and some even had tried without my assenting. But it was a hard "NO!" for me. I told them that if they ever tried it again, I would kick them so hard I would ruin their family plans.
But this was different. He was not a lover. He was my Master. He owned me and could do what he liked. I meant what I said about no limits. I did not feel compelled to turn into an anal slut; I craved it. If other guys liked it, then maybe he would too. At least, I wanted to make the attempt to show him that I was more than willing, even initiating it.
It was not the first time I had violated myself in this way, though. After being pressured by boyfriends and talking to girlfriends -- some of whom actually liked it -- curiosity had overcome my hesitation. But anal penetration was rare for me.
My dildo was smallish -- only 5 1/2 inches long and not quite an inch thick. In truth, many women would have used it as an anal dildo only. But it was uncomfortable for me. In the few times I had used it this way, I had to coax it in with extra lube and lots of slow rocking. I hated getting it in. Once it was in, I didn't mind it. In fact, it stimulated the nerves in my backdoor nicely. And I had to admit that when I orgasm ed, the vibrations from my pussy echoed in my ass and clamped down on Mr. Dildo nicely, prolonging my orgasms noticeably.
But tonight was not about any of that. Tonight was about Master. Tonight was about willingly humiliating myself and pleasing him. Tonight was about obeying him completely. And even more, tonight was about going beyond what was ordered to show what a good toy I could be for him. I felt absolutely driven to prove that I would do anything for him.
So, tonight, there was no lube, except the wetness from my dripping snatch. I was not slow and gentle, but rough and forceful. My first thrust failed to gain much entry, but it just inspired me to push harder. I buried my face in my pillow under the comforter and screamed into it as I pushed harder and harder, thrusting the fake dick into my virgin ass, wanting it. Craving it. Embracing the pain. "I don't mind getting hurt," I had said. Now I was out to prove it.
I felt my sphincter give way. The dildo slid in easily after that. I could feel the sensitive nerves in my backdoor spasm in both pain and pleasure. My insides felt full again, but in a different way.
I wished I'd had another dildo to shove into my pussy. And maybe a third for my mouth. Then, had I thought that my Owner might want it, I would have turned my phone camera on and let him see me fucking myself to show I was at his disposal -- ass, cunt, mouth, however he wanted me.
My fingers returned to my pussy, while my other hand rocked the dildo in and out slowly. My clit was on fire. Its spasms were beyond control. Every time I even brushed it, my whole pussy would spasm in a pre-orgasm signal that would be picked up by my ass as it clenched the fake dick inside it.
It was torture -- not the pain, but the command not to orgasm, but keep masturbating.
The experience was hard to describe. It was like blacking out, without backing out. Nothing else in the world mattered. My dildo, my pussy, my Owner, these were my universe. I kept replaying my submission in my mind. I kept re-living kneeling for him, smelling him, hearing him, but not looking at him. I kept feeling the need to obey, the monster he had awoken.
And life became a blur.
I had been there for days or seconds; I could not tell. And I did not care. I was used to pushing my endurance. And I knew I would be this way all night if he wanted it. But it would be torture. Every move bringing me to pre-orgasm spasms, only to back off so I would obey. I knew I would always obey. I craved the obedience far more than the orgasm, and I craved the orgasm more than breathing.
I stopped instantly when the phone rang. My pussy screamed at me, but I ignored it. I trembled with a near-oragasm as I twisted myself to see who the caller was.
As I had hoped, with breathless excitement, it was Master. That realization sent a thrill through me that was better than a climax.
"Hello, Master." I said without hesitation. As I spoke, I had slid down to the floor to kneel and switch to speaker phone. He had commanded me to lay on the bed, but he also said he would have further instructions. So I wanted to be in the proper place to receive them.
"Hello Pet."
I smiled and bit my lip. I loved being his Pet.
"Have you done as instructed?"
"Of course, Master."
"Tell me."
"Yes Sir. When you left, I stood and locked the door. Then I stripped naked. I found my dildo and washed it and dried it well. Then I took it and my phone and came into the bedroom and laid on the bed so I could masturbate and remember the day for you."
"Good girl."
The shiver, with the anal dildo still inside me felt amazing. My hips rocked in response.
