Take it

I walk into my room and shut the door behind me. I slip out of my running shorts and let them drop to the floor. I close my eyes and go over his command for me today. I take in a deep breath and slowly, I let it out again. I knew I needed to focus. What lay before me was going to be a challenge a battle against myself but at the same time a complete exposure of myself. As I pass, I pick up the felt tip and take a seat in my comfy chair. I settle back and begin.

I pop off the lid of the pen and look at the exposed bottom half of me. I give myself a small smile. I’d not shaved my pubic hair away before, but I find I like the look of it, the feel of it as I can’t resist and run my hand over my bare mound. I lower the marker and write, ‘Whose fuck toy’ above it. I look down and smile. Bold. Strong lines. I spread my legs as far apart as they will go. I start on my left inner thigh. ‘J’s whore’ runs the length of my thigh. I feel my breath catch. It’s true, and I know it is, but seeing in there, on my flesh, the truth sinks in a little more. I turn my attention to my right thigh and add to the inside of my thigh, ‘D’s slut’. I smile even wider. For a few moments I just look at the words. Take them in, accept them and realise the truth behind them. I reach down to the bottom hem of my T-shirt and lift it up and over and around the back of my neck. I look down at my breasts, but tonight, they look different to me. I realise it then. They aren’t mine. They are his, for his pleasure. If he wishes it, pleasure for me as well, but primarily, his. I reach into my bra and draw out first one breast and then the other. So, they rest there, squeezed together above my bra, pale and white, and huge. Ridiculously huge. I lower the felt tip to my breasts and write above them, ‘J’s happy place’ and include arrows in case anyone has any doubts. I close my eyes and I see it there. His cock, squeezed between my breasts, gliding back and forth, my tongue shooting out to lick the head of his cock as it peeps out from between those pillows of flesh. I shake my head and return to the present.

His voice breaks through to me. ‘Did it make the cunt we own wet to write those things?’ I reach down and spread the lips of my cunt open, showing the wetness already evident. ‘I’d say very wet then, and already starting to swell. Good girl.’ I look around my room, looking, searching to see what I can find, what I can do, what I can give them. My eyes land on the riding crop. I snatch it into my hand and instantly bring it down upon my spread cunt. I count silently to myself. After ten, I stop and take a picture of my cunt. It’s beginning to have a small blush of red across the area. I want more. I ask for more, but he doesn’t respond straight away. I try to wait, but my whole body goes twitchy. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t wait. Ten more whips across my cunt, my eyes close as I feel the burn begin. Partially, it’s the heat from the crop’s contact with my skin, but more of the heat is from my building desire. My want. My need. ‘Greedy little masochist, but aren’t you?’ How else could I reply, but in the affirmative. I can see the blush across my cunt change to a slightly deeper pink. Then I hear it, the sound that guarantees a monsoon of wetness to begin. I hear him, touching himself, gliding his fist around his cock and all because of what I’m doing for him. My arousal ramps up. More. I definitely want more. ‘Tell me slut, just how many strikes do you think it would take to make you come Just from hitting my cunt? I think I’d like to hear that. I need to take a few minutes to wash some dishes. So let’s see. You may start as slow as you would like. If you need to stop, give yourself 10 more strokes, and you may stop. If you are such a filthy girl that hitting your Cunt actually makes you come…then you may come for us.’

I feel it then, settle all around me, their ownership of me. My desire to please them. i want to make them touch themselves. I want to make then cum, but underneath that is my love of the pain, the relinquishing of control, my freedom to turn myself over to their care and know that I will be fine. I want to push myself further, for them. I want to give every part of myself over to them. I can let loose the wanton pain slut that lies inside of me. I feel my mind retreat, embracing the whore that I want and need to be. The filthy little fucktoy to be used over and over again. I’m not even aware my arm has moved until the crack of the whip lands on my already tender flesh. 30, 40, 50.

I hear you chuckle. ‘Oh, whore, Put two fingers in there, shove them in as deep as they will go, pull them out, wipe them on your face, and tell us how you are feeling. I’ll be back in a few minutes.’ I don’t hesitate. I slam two fingers into my soaking wet cunt, and pump them in and out a few times. I can hear the squelching as I do so. I am absolutely soaking wet, and still I want more, but that wasn’t the command I was given. Reluctantly, I pull my fingers out and raise them to my face. As I smell myself, a moan escapes from me. I wipe my own wetness first down one side of my face and then the other. To me, it’s the same as him marking his territory. He made this wetness, he allows me this pleasure and the joy of the pain. I feel dirty and hungry and wet. I want my cunt to burn more. I can feel it just outside of my reach, I want to feel stuffed full and slammed again and again. I want all my holes to be filled and used without any mercy. ‘There’s nothing wrong with pinching your nipples or putting in a painful anal plug, you know.’

I pop open the tin next to me and grab two clothespegs. With a few quick slaps, my nipples become even harder. I reach down, pull a nipple out tight and snap a clothes peg onto the very tip. I bite my lip as little shocks of pain ride through me. As I snap the peg on the second one, I can feel my hips start to move of their own accord, but I’m not done yet. I pull open the drawer next to me and reach out my box of anal plugs. I grab the medium one and ask if that’s an acceptable option. After being given the go ahead, I first slide it into my cunt and pump it a few times. Then, without any hesitation, I slide it into my ass. I can feel my muscles contract around it. What kind of dirty Whore am I? Claimed written all over my body, the burning of my cunt reminding me, the plug in my ass only making my need escalate and with each movement that I can no longer control, causes the clothes pegs on my nipples to pull just a bit more pain out of me, again and again. I can feel the wetness spreading down my thighs. My mind begins to hit that point when it starts to haze over. I can’t help it. That‘s when the begging begins. I’m desperate and beg them to fuck me, to fill me, to use me, anything, anything at all, just make me come. Let me come. ‘After you hit yourself another 40 times with that crop, I will let you shove your fingers in and out and pretend it is one of our cocks. Or you can shove them into two holes, and be more accurate.’ Immediately, I pick up the crop and start to whip my cunt once again. 20 cracks, then 40, my begging becomes frenzied. I beg to be fucked, hard, now, anything, just please feel a hoke. All I hear is an incoherent babble of begging, pleading, anything that will convince my sirs to let me come. I’m writhing, thrashing, shoving my cunt into the air, trying to grab onto anything it can.

’Slut, I want you to hit that fucking Cunt for me, and while you’re hitting it, I want you to fucking come for us like the whore you are.’I comply bringing my hand down sharply again and again onto my cunt which is glowing bright red. I’m only flesh. I have no mind any longer I just feel one sensation over another. I am so close to I am a rutting animal just in need of satisfaction. ’What can you do to earn it? How can you humiliate yourself? How can you hurt yourself? How can you show us that you know that you’re a slave and getting to come is an honor that you need to earn? Because of course you can’t come for yourself.

You can only come for us. That’s how submissive you are. Hurt yourself more. Fuck yourself harder. Take your hand, slap your Cunt, hard, soak up as much wet as as you can, and shove it into your mouth, fucking your mouth for us. If you can come strictly from hitting yourself with that crap, you may continue to come for us.’ I bring my hand down over and over, then grab the crop. I want more. And with the few strokes of the crop, then grab screaming begins as my whole body gives in to the pleasure as one orgasm after another takes me and pulls me. Every muscle in my body clenches, milking every single orgasm I can from this body. after what feels like forever, the quakes subside and become just small quivers and finally my mind just floats and my body drops back against the cushions. As I struggle to catch my breath, another sensation sneaks through the fog of my mind. The pegs. The pegs are still on my nipples, adding to the pleasure. I manage to squeak out a vague collection of words that manage to convey the question. I’m gratefully granted permission to remove them and as they snap off and feeling returns a second storm of orgasms have me disappearing into oblivion as I come one orgasm after another until I disappear amd collapse into my chair.