By sophiaslave dedicated to her Master, Brabazon
As morning sunlight filtered through the bedroom blinds, my slave still sleep, the chain attached to her ankle, I shook her gently wake.
She smiled, her face still a mask of sleepiness. She stretched, as she will the lingering sleep to vanish, running a hand through her dark curly hair.
“It’s going to be a big day for you, beloved one, so we need to get moving.”
She looked at me, but was too well trained to ever question her Master. Depending on what was going to happen, sometimes I’d readily explain, but this particular morning that was not going to happen until just before departure time.
I unlocked the chain from the cuff, and rubbed her foot as the cuff was unfasted. As she did every morning, the ritual firmly established, she quickly went to the bathroom, into the oversized stall shower, sinking to her knees. I followed her, still naked as I’d slept, stood on the other side of the showerdoor and reached for my cock. Automatically, she raised her face, her tongue extended in wait for my first urination of the morning.
After I’d saved myself and there was no doubt there would not be further sprays of golden fluid upon her, she begged permission to clean my cock. Still holding it in my hand I nodded, and she took into her mouth. Then as part of what is to happen every morning, she reached for the lips of her cunt, pulling them apart to give me the pleasure of watching her as her stream was released.
No matter how many times we did it this way, and it had been a long time, my heart never ceased to skip a beat as she knelt, body fluid flowing, her face and hair dripping with mine–the episode of submission as I’d always hungered to have.
The first time I tied her to a tree to be whipped, I bent my head to kiss her before it began, she whispered, “Show me no mercy, Master, I am yours”.
It was if she handed me the key to my Dominance, the darkestareas needing release–she, with her unfaltering submission, the key itself.
I stepped into the shower and turned on the jets. As she started to rise, I shook my head and my hands pressed down on hers. This was not necessarily part of the ritual, dependent on my mood. I was extraordinarily excited regarding what was to take place later, and desperately needed her mouth. As she sucked me with perfected technique, I guided her head. After she swallowed my cum, as usual, we lathered each other down, the warm jet spray pelting us as I passwordately kissed her mouth.
Wearing thick terry robes, I sat at the table as she prepared breakfast, serving my food without setting a place for herself.
“May this slave join her Master at table?”
“By all means, little one, do eat today, not just your usual coffee.”
She looked at me with sparkling eyes as she sat returned with her plate. She sensed today was not going to be the normal ordinary routine
“Today, slave, willbe a day of reflection and training for You. I am taking You to a place, a secluded property owned by a friend of mine who runs it perhaps in a rather non-traditional way, but it’s His property and He does as He likes. He consented to my request to have you there for the better part of half a day.”
I hesitated, allowing my words to sink in, my dark eyes connected to hers, noting her face had slightly pallored.
‘You will be placed in a yard where others walk freely, although they will be dressed, unlike you who will be totally naked. You will be, placed on a wooden horse that will dig into Your cunt, painfully so within a very short time, with a hood on Your head robbing you of sight. Your arms will be raised up and bowed reflecting your subservice which will be uncomfortable for you to maintain. There will be no restraints on you to further indicate all that keeps You there is your volunteer slavery to Your Master.
She nodded,”Yes, Master”.
I bent forward andgently kissed her lips. I knew this was far more extreme than anything she ever experienced and saw the appreciation in her eyes.
“I do not do this with punishment in mind, beloved, but with recognition of my responsibility to you–slavery is such one must have some reformation where it is they are and who they are.”
I placed my hand under her chin, leaning towards her, raising her face, and said gently, “Even one as perfect as you are needs to demonstrate her surrender in submission to her Master as a tool to keep it perpetually in place. My faith and trust in Your servitude is what directs me. Speak freely slave.”
She inhaled deeply before speaking. “Thank You, Master, Your slave is grateful for the challenging opportunity You give her to push herself even further into surrender and demonstrate her unconditional devotion.”
She spoke the words, and there was never any doubt she meant them. I knew the fear could not be detected in her voice, nor her facial exPression, but it was there.
It was not about the actuality of the fate that was about to befall her, but of the possibility of being unable to endure and fail her Master–she had already demonstrated to me, over and over again, she would rather die than that.
Leave a Reply