I’m His slut, I’m His whore… I’m His

I wanted photos of my new piercings. Photos taken from behind. While I was on my knees. I knew that it would not be only that. I knew that sex would follow. Okay, in this case maybe no sex, because it was only a week before that I had been pierced and I was supposed to refrain from sex for at least 4 weeks. But I knew something would follow, if only that I would have to suck Master T to a climax. I was horny. Very horny. And desperately in need of an orgasm myself.

I moaned as Master T lightly touched my labia, spreading them. I moaned some more when he ran His hand over my bottom and down my legs. The camera clicked away, even when He was touching me. I spread my legs some more, pushed my upper body into the bed and arched my back. I felt the wetness of my pussy increasing. More photos were made. More touching. I moaned even louder when I felt Master T’s finger slipping carefully into my wetness. He did not touch my piercings, but the way He touched me was enough to bring me to orgasm. Over and over again.

And while I was there, on my knees, my face pressed into the duvet cover, my ass and pussy up in the air and my legs spread as wide as I could, there were thoughts that ran through my mind over and over again. I felt like an object, something Master T could play with. I was only cunt and ass to Him at that moment. Almost like I was depersonalized. And you know what? I liked it. The feeling of being used – that excited me. The feeling of being an object that He could use – that made me feel hot and sexy. I felt like a whore, offering my body for Him to use. I liked the feeling. I felt like a slut. It made me happy.

While all these thoughts repeated itself in my mind, I felt happy, safe, loved, content. I could let the whore out, the whore I know I had inside me. The slut was allowed to come out and play. He allowed that. He wanted this. I could drop all inhibitions and just be. Be me. Be what He wanted me to be. Be what I wanted to be. Just be the slut I felt like at that moment. The whore. His slut. His whore.

This is such a liberating feeling, to not have to wonder what He thinks of me when I give myself so fully. When I push my pussy or ass against His hand and beg Him to put another finger in me. When I tell Him how horny I am and how much in need I am of another orgasm. When I climax, moaning loudly and surrendering to the feelings inside. There have never been a man in my life who has made me feel like this, a man who I could give myself to the way I give myself to Master T.

Yes, I am truly His slut, I am His whore.

I. Am. His.

ยฉ Rebel’s Notes

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