Wednesday, October 15, 2008


I have always disliked being on display. I’m hypercritical of my body just like almost every other woman out there, and have found it difficult to overcome the embarrassment of it. I have recently come to a place of acceptance and I am learning to surrender to it. I am beginning to understand the erotic nature of being naked, bound and on display for my Owner.

I know when he watches me, know when he stops whatever it was he was doing and slides his gaze across my flesh.I feel it. I sense his attention and it sends shivers coursing through my body. My heart speeds up, my skin flushes and I feel the dampness forming between my legs

Today I stand naked, my wrists bound above my head secured to a bolt in the ceiling. The rope pulls me up so high I must stand on tip to, my body stretched to its limit. A blindfold covers my eyes; my mouth is stuffed with a ball gag. My arms ache and the muscles in my calves twitch, saliva pools in the corners of my lips. My body is my only measure of the time that has gone by and even still I couldn’t tell you if I have been here for 5 minutes or 30. The air has a slight chill to it, my nipples stand at attention, and my skin is covered in goose bumps. I hear noises around me, sometimes close, sometimes further away. I try not to pay attention to them; I get anxious trying to figure out what Master is doing. I breathe deeply and try to relax into the position, surrender to it.

I lift my leg, and point and flex my foot to take the ache away; I slide it up the other leg massaging the tension from my calf with my heel. Every movement is calculated, I try to keep my toes pointed, try to make sure ever movement is pleasing and sensual. I switch legs and repeat the process, slowly running my pointed foot up the side of my leg, swinging my knee to the side, releasing my hip, opening myself up should he be watching me. When I’ve stretched my legs, I lean my head back slowly, arching my back pressing my breasts forward, my ass out. I shake my head slowly side to side stretching my neck, my long red curls softly brushing my back. When I have stretched all I can I slowly return to position, waiting.

Master likes to watch me shift and move, my muscles tensing and shaking from the strain. When he comes close I feel the warmth radiating from his body. I strain forward willing him to touch me, his body heat searing my flesh, and pooling between my thighs. The desire to be touched sending pulsations through my body that make me writhe in anticipation.

He leaves me there squirming, working myself up. He knows I have a vivid imagination and it doesn’t require much to send it reeling down the path toward orgasm. He enjoys watching this happen, I’m sure he would love to be able to read my mind, to peak into my head and watch the scenario I have picked out.

Then with great care he reaches out and softly runs his fingers down my breast, my stomach, my hip. The tenderness of it almost undoes me, I’m too aroused. Tender was a few minutes ago now I want it hard, I want him to grab me roughly and possess me. But he knows that, which is why he moves slowly, reminding me that I am not in charge that I am here for his pleasure, to take as he pleases. He teases me for a few more minutes and then moves away, I cry out from behind my gag moving forward trying to find him again with my body. My frustration mounts as the moments tick by. I try to surrender into my predicament but I am beyond my capacity to relax, the only release I can think about is focused between my legs.

Suddenly I am yanked backward by my hair, my body pulled firmly against Masters. I groan. He leans in and whispers to me “Is this what you wanted slave?” His other hand slides down the front of my body; he pinches my nipples hard, squeezing my breasts. His hand travels lower and lower, slipping between my legs, sliding through my wetness. I grunt and press my pelvis forward into his hand, my body bucking, pressing the heel of his hand into my clit while his fingers slip in and out of me.

“You’re so wet, you like this don’t you? It turns you on doesn’t it?”

I moan in response.

"Do you want to come slave?”

I groan like an animal in heat my body moving faster.

“Come for me slave.”

I scream from behind my gag and my legs give out leaving me dangling from my wrists.
Master releases my hair, and wraps his other arm around my waist holding me up, taking the pressure off my arms while I twist and moan in ecstasy and release.

As my breathing returns to normal, Master reaches up and unties my arms. I collapse against him. He undoes the gag in my mouth but leaves my blindfold on. He carries me to the bed, places me down and lies down beside me. He removes the blindfold and I blink at the brightness of the room. When my eyes adjust to the light I look into his eyes, and he smiles at me.

“Thank you Sir.”

“My pleasure slave.” He answered, wrapping me in his arms.


Anonymous said...

Sounds amazing,
I'm so envious of you, it feels like I haven't been used by my Master, haven't even seen my Master in too long.
enjoy every moment,

a.w.s. said...

i loved that story. Even though i may not comment often i love reading your blog, i like your writing style and the blog itself - its classy XOXO

overXposed pet said...

For me, not liking being in display is what makes it so delicious. I love your journal and your insights. I feel like it helps me understand who I am to a certain extent.

When you start looking into this it can be scary... and your saying "Don't worry Dear, I don't want you to draw blood or stick me with needles... just welt my butt a tad so I can walk around with a smirk the next day"

Fantazmaster said...

Once again the reader is given a very intimate look at what is going in your mind as well as the physical