I’ve said it before, and no doubt I will say it again; I am quite unashamedly a cock-loving slut. I love cock, lot’s of cock. I love it in my mouth, I love it in my cunt, I love it in my arse; it doesn’t matter, I will enjoy every lovely inch of cock wherever it is put.
I am, of course, very fortunate. I have a very considerate Master who allows me to satisfy my particular cravings, so long as I am willing to accept the consequences of my actions. I know I will be required to atone for my transgressions. I accept that there is a price to be paid for the pleasure of feeling another man’s cock in me. I know that the price of my waywardness is to feel the stinging kiss of Master C’s belt on my arse; and it is a price I am willing to pay.
And yet, I know my place. I know the one place where I truly belong. That place is on Master C’s cock.
For all that I enjoy the novelty of being with a new partner. For all that I crave that heady (and indeed, hedonistic) rush that comes with being so turned on, you just want the guy you are with to take you and use you right there, in that instant. For all that I love the excitement of having a stranger’s cock inside me; the one cock I will always crave, the one cock that does the most wonderful things to me, the one cock that I know every inch of, every bump, every ridge, every vein is the cock that belongs to Master C.
Master C’s cock is the one that claims me, completes me and truly satisfies me. Master C’s cock is the one that will make me moan and sigh in ways that no other man will ever hear. Master C’s cock is the one on which I ultimately belong; feeling its oh so achingly familiar length, thickness and hardness inside me.
Yes, I am a slut. Yes I love cock. And yet I still know my place; and that place is on Master C’s cock.