The dutiful slut


Sometimes it just has to be done. He comes home. He’s tired. He’s had a hard day at work. He needs His cock sucked.

As Master C‘s dutiful slut, I know how to attend to His needs; I know what I need to do.

I sit Him down, I undo His trousers, I take His cock between my lips and pleasure Him with my mouth.

Slowly, surely, I use my mouth to ease away the strains and stresses of Master C‘s day. With my mouth, I serve Him and worship Him; welcoming Him home.

He rests a hand on the back of my head. His fingers twist in my hair as He begins to push His cock deeper into my mouth.

A sigh escapes and the tension slowly builds as Master C begins to fuck my face with short, stabbing thrusts. I can feel His cock strain. I can taste His delicious pre-cum.

His breathing deepens. His fingers tighten their grip in my hair, pulling me on to Him.

Master C tells me that I am His “good girl”. He tells me that I have “earned my reward”.

My fingers stroke His shaft as I suck harder on the swollen head of His lovely, lovely cock.

I know Master C is getting close. I can feel the tension in His thighs. I know that soon I will taste His rich cum on my tongue.

Soon… But not yet…

Master C holds back; denying Himself the pleasure of release so that He can savour the attentions of my mouth for as long as possible.

“Is my good girl ready?” He asks. I murmur my assent from around His cock.

His hips surge. His cock twitches. I can feel the head swell in my mouth.

A moment…

That briefest of pauses…

His cum explodes into my mouth, flooding over my tongue.

I swallow the initial surge then milk the remainder from Master C‘s cock. I let it pool on my tongue, savouring the rich taste of Him before swallowing this too.

His cock slips from between my lips. I sit back on my heels and stare up at Him. “Did I do well?” I ask.

“Yes, little one, you did very well.”

Content that I have served Him, I stand up and make my way to the kitchen to make him His coffee.

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The first submission


It was a ceremony of sorts; a symbol of trust and acceptance. A sign of my submission to Him.

As He sat, I stood before him, eyes downcast. Slowly I undressed, the removal of each item an acceptance of His claim over me.

Finally I stood, naked, offering myself to Him. Presenting myself to His scrutiny. He told me to turn around. I complied, letting Him study me, showing him the prize that was his.

“Kneel!” Master C demanded, ” You know what to do.”

I did as I was bid. I unbuckled His belt, unbuttoned and unzipped His jeans, reached inside His boxers and released His cock from its confinement.

I took His cock in my mouth, paying homage to it with my lips and tongue. I was determined to show Master C how diligent I could be in the performance of my duties. My mouth’s purpose was to please Him and I yearned to do my best.

As my service to Him brought Him to the point of no return, He pushed me from him. “Have I displeased you?” I asked.

“No, not at all,” Master C replied, “I intend to mark you.”

He stroked his cock, His hand almost a blur. “I am claiming you, Morag,” he groaned, “I am marking you as mine. From this moment on, you are MY slut.”

His cock errupted. His cum sprayed over my face, it trickled down my neck, dribbling on to my boobs.

“Give me Your belt,” I asked in a small voice, His cum drying on my skin. He gave me an enquiring look. “Pass me Your belt Sir, it’s important,” I urged.

Master C slipped His belt from its stays and passed it to me. I accepted it and adopted a position of supplication, on my knees, my head bowed, my hands raised with His belt draped over them.

“I submit to You,” I said, “I submit to You and accept Your domination. I offer You this belt to use for my instruction and correction. I will accept Your discipline as You see fit to dispense it.”

Master C took the belt from my hands. I turned around as He folded it and cracked it sharply together.

I waited. The anticipation built. I heard the belt swish through the air. With a resounding smack, His leather kissed my arse. He became my  Master and He made me His…