I placed the collar around my neck, and my pussy clenched.
“You’re my slut, aren’t you?”
My cunt ached.
“You’re my little fucking whore, aren’t you? Answer me, whore.”
“You want to cum, don’t you, my slut? Then do it, now.”
My hips bucked, juices flowed. With only the slightest touch, I came. Thick cum oozed down my cunt and into my ass.
His words, His voice send me over the edge. Slut, whore, bitch – in the vanilla world, these are the vilest terms. In my world, they make my back arch, my eyes roll back in my head, my mouth open, my breathing rasp, and my cunt drip.
The collar around my neck represents security and a sense of belonging to Him. I am His, His to control, His to use, His to love.
I think I understand the desire of some to be a 24/7 submissive. When He controls, demands, commands, forces, uses, and takes, I feel free, I feel confident, I feel whole.
Cumming at His direction, wearing the collar (and no I have not been officially collared – it’s much too soon for that), obeying His every whim, I feel more at peace with myself than at any other time. I crave my submission to Him. I feel adrift without showing some form of obeisance to Him. Left to myself in a vanilla world, I worry, fret, and become anxious about who I am, who we are, how He feels. I need my growly Sir as much as I need my sweet love. I may need my Sir more.
I want to please Him. I want to give Him everything He wants – knowing and trusting that I will receive as much as I give. I want to submit to Him.
I can feel the submissiveness in me growing, blossoming into something I never imagined. I am incomplete without submission. I recognize that my submission requires care and nurturing, that it cannot nor should it be given to someone who is not worthy of it. In every facet of our relationship, He proves that He treasures my submission and me as a woman. He makes it easy to submit, to give all of who I am.
Am I capable of giving more?