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Thoughts of a Gentleman Dom

My thoughts and erotic writings. I hope you enjoy.
3 weeks ago. Fri 19 Oct 2018 07:10:13 PM IDT

            We have all seen the Hollywood version of the drama playing out in the background wherethe hero bravely steps forward and calls out, “Jump, I will catch you.” We all feel good that the hero did the right thing. The action was obvious, right? There was an obvious and immediate danger and the hero did what anybody would do, right?

            I have been incredibly fortunate recently. I grew up withwhat would be described as the all American life, pretty normal with loving parents and a very loving family. I was completely naïve to the abuse and emotional issues that wereno doubt all around me. Recently, three separate women, who do not know each other, have opened up to me about their individual abusive and or emotional past. Abuse is not like the fire that you see blazing in the background of the television show. It is silent. The triggers are silent and immediate, happy one moment and suffocating the next. I believe that these women (and men) can live full and happy lives, but their progress will be slow and meticulous. Nonetheless, there is promise, there is hope. Each of these women, in my case, has thanked me profusely for my “heroics”. What did I do you ask? I listened to them. Cracked a joke here and there to keep the mood light, but I truly listened. They came out to their emotional ledge and I said, “Jump, I will catch you.” It is not as simple as on television. The emotions can be overwhelming and choke the life out of an otherwise amazing person. Their individual decision to “jump” is based solely on the trust that has been built prior to that decision.
            We talk about D/s relationships being built on trust and respect. You can’t dominate every woman out there. I probably have tried at least once or twice. It doesn’t end well. The next time that she tells you that she isn’t interested in being your submissive, instead of leaving her with a nasty and hurtful comment, give her a compliment and wish her well. It doesn’t cost you anything and it might just open a door to an incredible friendship. In time that friendship may lead you, as it has me, to say, “Jump, I will catch you,” and you actually mean it. Choose your words carefully and be kind.


As always, an incredible thank you to Justataste, my editor extraorinaire!

1 month ago. Fri 12 Oct 2018 11:08:35 PM IDT

The Restorer
Part 1: The Restorer
            He looked down at the pile of rubble before him and smiled. He didn’t have to ask, he already knew. In the market everything was used. All of the merchandise had a ding or two. In many cases it was those “dings” that made the item appear more valuable. Not to him. He wasn’t particularly looking atthe mess before him, but smiled all the same. The heap of raw emotions and scars was passed over by so many. She was no doubt pretty on the outside, but it was beneath the surface that was broken and in her mind shattered beyond repair. The man saw it differently. He was a restorer. One that took what was broken and put it back together. The Restorer knew that a fresh coat of paint wouldn’t fix what was wrong. She had already done that with make-up and a fake smile. The Restorer understood that the insides, what was under the “hood” so to speak, had to be rebuilt from scratch. He knew instinctively that this would take time, that the amazing soul before him would be a “work in progress”. He also knew that many had looked at her and passed her by. All they saw was a pretty face and a lot of work. They were wrong and he knew it. He looked at the scars that he could see and knew there were even more that he couldn’t see. The Restorer looked at things differently than most. He looked at life differently. What others saw as a broken mess, he saw as perfect. She was perfect! With all the scars and emotional damage, she was perfect. She was EXACTLY what HE was looking for.

            He claimed the property as his that day. Of all his many capabilities, he knew that patience and caring would be what he would need the most. She needed his understanding, his belief in her that she was of great value, incredible value. The Restorer knew that once he brought this amazing beauty back to life, others would want her, even the ones that had discarded her in the first place. He smiled again. “Too late,” he thought, “you are mine. I will fix you up right, the way that you should be, the way that you deserve to be.” He looked at the scars on her and was appalled. He looked at the small brown circles where she had been used as an ashtray for another’s cigarettes… and amusement. “They will heal,” she implored, then lowered her head in defeat and added, “They always do.” He lifted her chin with his fingers and smiled. “No one will hurt you again.” She returned his smile though her confidence did not match his. All she had left was hope. A hope that someday the Restorer would come. She didn’t believe such a person existed. How could he be real? And even if he were real, why would he want her? He smiled again. He told her such an incredible lie and he had said it straight to her face. How could he have said such an outrageous falsehood? He had looked deep into her eyes and said… “You are perfect.” And to make matters worse, he had gone on to say that she was beautiful, amazing and incredible. He explained that pretty was on the outside. It was the attractive face and body, her gorgeous hair and eyes and her amazing smile. He told her that beauty, true beauty, showedfrom the inside out. He assured her that regardless of what she thought, her inner beauty still shined brightly.
            The Restorer did not know of all the abuse that she had suffered, the physical, sexual and emotional abuse. He instinctively knew it was there. During the upcoming weeks, months and years of restoration of her very soul, he would hear and see the remnants of the years of destruction. He would also see the self-destruction, the scars from cutting. He would listen to her as she told of one torment followed by the next. Now it was her turn to smile. She could see that the endless stories of misuse and pain bothered the Restorer. She stopped telling her stories. When he was ready for more, he would ask. She knew that he was a good man, a fair man and that he had what she had wanted and needed for years, control of her. She had no way of knowing where this would lead. She only knew that she trusted him and that he was capable of making her whole again, whatever that could be. He was patient, so incredibly patient with her. For all this time she didn’t believe that such an amazing and patient man existed, but there he was smiling and listening to her. “YES!” she thought, “He is LISTENING to ME.” She could not remember the last time a man in her life listened to her or took her seriously. She had been told repeatedly that her opinions didn’t matter. She had never made the connection that by day people listened to her, really cared for her expertise and knowledge, but at home… at home, she was ignored and ridiculed. She was told that she was stupid and an idiot. Her spirit wasn’t broken it had been repeatedly crushed. The Restorer was careful as he breathed new life into the remnants of her soul. He worked meticulously to rebuild without damaging his precious masterpiece. He had two key things going for him, his patience and his vision for her. He had no idea what the final masterpiece would look like; he simply knew that it would be perfect. He knew that she would be perfect because at every stage in the process, she was perfect. She was the perfect opportunity to restore. After each time that they talked and she smiled at him, she was perfect. She became his “potato chip”; he could not get enough of her. She was perfect.
Part 2: Author’s Ramblings, “White Tattoo”
            The above story is dedicated to two amazing women, one that I know well, even intimately, and the other that I am proud to call my friend. We all know that domination takes on different forms and personas. I have always said that true domination takes maturity to execute. Many of us laugh at the 20 year old “dom” with 10 years experience. In my humble opinion (and for those of you who know me, know that my opinions are anything but humble. However, this is my story and if I want to say that my opinions are humble, I will), a dom doesn’t get good at controlling another human being until they are older and has made a lifetime of mistakes both inside bdsm and out. Domination is not abuse. In my opinion, humble or not, abuse has no place anywhere. I know that many doms enjoy inflicting body damaging pain and even torture. I read one posting on the Cage where he was looking forward to using his new sub as an ashtray. I pity the poor girl that is attracted to that. Abuse, physical, emotional and sexual, is real. There is an attraction of these men and women that have suffered abuse for years to kink, mainly submission. I don’t understand it. As we men say, “That is above my pay grade.” But it is there all the same.
            A word to my fellow Doms. If you are new to domination or are simply looking for a quickie and the woman mentions that she has been abused in the past, do the right thing and graciously leave her for someone that can help her. You very well could do more damage in your effort to get her into bed.

            To my fellow mature Doms, please consider this. Over my years as a Dom, I have talked to countless women who have been abused physically, emotionally or sexually. In my experience it is usually all three together. They have been called stupid and worthless. Many have been raped and assaulted repeatedly. I have seen black eyes, broken bones and worse. The need is real. To be a Dom to a recovering abuse victim will test your patience and ability to care. DO NOT GIVE UP! Their very being is counting on you. You are, in many cases, their last hope. Do not take your responsibilities lightly. Let me give you an insight into IF you are making a difference in her life. She will smile. Abuse victims don’t smile or laugh. In their minds, they are not allowed to have or show pleasure. Their abundant smile and laughter is a very positive sign to you that you are making a difference. If you are a MATURE Dom consider taking on one of these amazing people as your submissive. You will be glad that you did. It will also test your protectiveness as a Dom. I have seen restored submissives where the abuser, once she has been restored, wants her back. It happens.
             I wanted to tell THIS story from the Dom’s perspective. The abused submissive will often refer to herself as a “project”. In my case, I do not allow negative talk. It is strictly forbidden. She is not allowed to refer to herself as “stupid”. Those mental stains take years to fade. The good news is that they do fade and are replaced by a “white tattoo”, good memories that cover up old nasty scars.
            I have no doubt that I will get negative comments to my thoughts about what a dom can or should be. I am a big boy. I will be fine. But this story had to be told. Besides, as we say as Doms, “It is good to be king!” I will do as I darn well please.

1 month ago. Wed 19 Sep 2018 02:14:59 PM IDT

            We were cleaning up from dinner when I casually told you to go pick out a movie for us to watch. “Of course, Master, what would you like to see?” “Anything,” I responded, “you pick this time.” And then added, “Let’s watch one of your movie’s this time.” “Really?” you squealed with excitement. You loved the Classic movies. Practically any movie in black and white was a good choice for you. I admired you as I finished the kitchen chores. You were in your standard “home attire”, pink leather collar and two inch matching pink heels. You were a stunning beauty. You were also my owned property with whom I was pleased.
            As you finalized your selection you were surprised to see me naked on the floor, my back to the wall. I spread my legs and told you to sit in front of me. You nestled in between my legs as the opening credits began. You had chosen a romantic comedy from the 1940’s. We had seen it before and no doubt would see it again and again. It made you happy and… you pleased me. You laid your head against my bare chest when the opening scene began. I easily slid my hands around you and softly groped my breasts, the ones that I own. I whispered softly in your ear to stroke my pussy softly. You spread your legs as your two beautifully manicured fingers stroked my bare pussy. You purred softly as your juices built up and my pussy easily became soaked. As the movie went on watching it became somewhat tedious for you. You squirmed as I fingered and teased my nipples, giving them a nice pinch and twist. My nipples were hard with arousal as you felt my rock hard cock pressing against your back. By now, neither of us was paying attention to the movie. I whispered in your ear, “You are mine. You are my property and possession. The only reason that you exist is to please me. Do you understand, my precious bitch?” “Yes Master,” you said breathlessly, “Thank you for owning me.” I groped and squeezed my plentiful breasts as your own fingers taunted and teased my clit.
            “Turn over and lay on your stomach,” I commanded you. As you did, I discreetly turned off the television. You laid between my legs, my hard cock facing you. Without a word, I guided the back of your head to where I needed you. You eagerly took me inside your mouth and sucked me voraciously. You easily slid down my hard shaft as the head of my cock touch the back of your throat. We both felt me growing inside of you. My hardness filling you and your obedience pleasuring me so. Finally, I grabbed a handful of your pretty hair and pulled your head up to face me. “It’s time, my precious one, go lay on our bed, Master needs to fuck his bitch.” You stood and then paused. You waited to help your Master to his feet and then quickly scampered to our bedroom. When I walked in, you were laying on the bed, your knees raised and apart. Wordlessly, you smiled at me as you softly stroked your hard and aching erect nipples. I kissed your inner thigh and stomach as I crawled over you. I slid inside of you, your drenched pussy eagerly accepting my hard cock. I fucked you hard, almost effortlessly, as our two bodies became one being. As our bodies moved in rhythm together you looked up at me, “Thank you for fucking your bitch, Master. Thank you for owning me. I held you close as I exploded inside of you. When I finally collapsed and rolled off next to you, you sat up and sucked my wet and limp cock. You weren’t done until every precious drop of cum was captured and consumed. As I hold you close, your naked body next to mine, you purr, “I always love movie night, Master.”

1 month ago. Fri 14 Sep 2018 04:39:11 PM IDT

A good friend of mine and fan of my erotic writings asked me to write a Daddy Dom/little girl story. This is the result and is dedicated to her.
            As was my custom most evenings after dinner, I sat in my chair in the corner of my bedroom. It was a calming end to what was usually a hectic workday. The late afternoon sun made its last efforts to illuminate my bedroom. As I skimmed from one headline to another, I notice a happy distraction out of the corner of my eye. I casually peered over the top of the dropped corner of the newspaper and smiled. There you stood leaning against the doorjamb to my room. Tonight at dinner, you were unusually quiet. Usually you rattle on incessantly about your day, but not tonight. I kept looking over at you sitting next to me. Your hair was brushed and you looked as beautiful as you always do. Your breasts were full and so amazing. The fact that top button was left unbuttoned was not lost on me.
            As you stood at my doorway tonight, I knew there was much more on your mind. You looked beautiful in your simple white button-down blouse, red plaid skirt, white knee socks and black paten leather shoes. My gaze toward you was casual until I saw it, the signal. You were fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. Always a sign that you wanted Daddy’s attention, that you wanted more from Daddy. You were even more stunning than when I had seen you at dinner. I studied your attractive body when I noticed it. You had removed your bra. Your full breasts filled the tight white blouse and your hard nipples poked through. “Did you want my attention, baby girl?” I asked calmly. Your smile lit up the room as you bounced in jubilantly. You stopped abruptly at the foot of my chair, your nipples stretching hard against the material. “Come sit on Daddy’s lap, Princess”. Your smile explodes as you straddle my legs. I rest my hands on your soft inner thighs, my fingers teasing gently under the red plaid skirt. “Who are you?” I ask with a soft smile. Your smile broadened as you replied, “Daddy’s little girl”. “Whom do you belong to?” “You Daddy, only you!” you acknowledged cheerfully. “And what will you give Daddy?” “ANYTHING that you want Daddy,” you acknowledged breathlessly. “Please let me please you.” “Grab your beautiful breasts for me,” as my fingertips slowly made their way up your supple thighs. “Oh yes, Daddy!” you said as you squeezed your amazing breasts through the thin cotton top. You closed your eyes as you squeezed the gorgeous mounds under your touch. You whimpered, closed your eyes and spread your legs wider as my fingertips reached your wet pussy.
            “Does that feel good to you, my precious one?” “OH YES!” you exclaim happily. I smile at you and softy command you, “Show me”. You quickly unbutton the white blouse and release your gorgeous breasts from their captivity. They are full and round and begging for Daddy’s attention. The fingers of my left hand probe deep inside your drenched pussy and you squeal with pleasure. You lay your soft small hand on top of mine as I squeeze your gorgeous breast to my pleasure. You intertwine your fingers behind my neck, your smile abundant. “Thank you, Daddy,” you say genuinely, “thank you for letting me please you”. I pull you close as my mouth takes in your full breast. I suck on you deeply. My tongue dances across your hard nipple, teasing and toying with it. My fingers slide easily into your soaked pussy as you arch your back and moan with pleasure. I bite down on that incredibly hard nipple refocusing your attention on Daddy. I pull your neck toward me and kiss you deeply and passionately. As I look deeply in your eyes, I ask you, “Who do you belong to?” “You!” you say eagerly, “Daddy, I belong to only you.” “Why do you exist, my love?” You smile genuinely, “Only to please you, Daddy”.
            I stand lifting you with me. The command itself was simple, “Pleasure Daddy”. Your smile broadened as you removed your skirt and dropped to your knees. I smiled as you became serious and focused on the task at hand, removing my pants. You unbuckled my belt expertly, unzipped and then removed them. You purred as you removed my boxer shorts and my manhood stood at attention to greet you. You eagerly stroked my hard cock with one hand as you fondled and caressed my balls with the other. You kissed my balls and let your tongue trace my hard shaft to the tip where you lingered. Finally, you looked up at me and I gave you my consent. Without a word you eagerly took Daddy’s manhood deep inside your mouth and sucked hard. The pleasure shot deep inside me as I laid my hand on the back of your head and gently guided you to me. We both could feel Daddy growing inside you.
            I lifted you to your feet and turned you around to face the bed. I took your hand in mine and placed it on top of your smooth pussy. I whisper in your ear, “Stroke, my love. Stroke my pussy.” You comply instantly as your knees buckle slightly. I grab and squeeze your breasts from behind you as my hard cock presses against your ass crack. You moan tenderly as together we caress your body. I whisper softly in your ear, “Whom do you belong to?” With your eyes still closed you purr softly, “Only you, Daddy.” I tighten my grip and finger your hard nipples. “How long will you belong to me?” You place your other hand on top of mine sandwiching it against your full breast. “Forever Daddy! I will belong to you always!” I smile and whisper in your ear, your naked body pressing against mine, “I have a surprise for you baby girl.” “Yes, Daddy, what is it?” you purr from your contentment. “Open your eyes. What do you see?” “Daddy’s bed,” you said with slight bewilderment. I squeeze both of your breasts harder and pressed tighter against your soft body. “From now on,” I said into your ear, “it is OUR bed.” You squealed in excitement and wheeled around to face me. “REALLY DADDY?!” you asked breathlessly. “Do you mean it?” You placed your arms around my neck as I pulled you close, your full breasts and hard nipples pressing against me. “From now on,” I tell you, “you will always be with me. I will have my baby girl anytime that I want, as much as I want, forever. Do you understand, my love?” “Oh yes, Daddy! Thank you, Daddy!” I kissed you deeply as our tongues intertwined. “Now, get on our bed, Daddy need his baby girl.” You lie on top of the bed and spread your legs wide for me. As I crawled over you, my hard waiting cock slid easily inside your drenched pussy.  You gasp as I thrust deep inside of you. I fuck you hard, my own explosion near. I kiss you deeply as I continue to enjoy my little girl. “I love you, Daddy!” you exclaim breathlessly, “You have made me so happy.” I smile at you as I thrust even deeper inside you. “baby girl, you are mine, forever.”
Authors note:
I hope you enjoyed the story. This was stretch for me. I have a great deal of respect for those in the Daddy Dom/little girl community.
As always, a special thanks to Justataste for editing my work. And to Shynikita for technical support.

2 months ago. Wed 29 Aug 2018 12:07:30 AM IDT

            It was a simple question without premise or judgment. We had been working around the house all day; both of us getting the nagging chores done that needed our attention. Now, late in the afternoon, you turned to me and asked me that simple but direct question, “Master, may we go to bed now?” I had no choice, but to smile. Our complex and amazing relationship could be summed up in that one simple question. Or maybe more so, what the question was not.
            It was not, “Honey, I’m tired, I’m going to take a nap.” Nor was it a tacky, “Come fuck me.” It was you, the epitome of class. It showed the respect that I have earned as your owner, as your Master. You weren’t afraid of me. Your service to me was born from respect not fear. It was, in fact, a heartfelt request to show your owner the attention that you so desperately wanted to give him… everyday. The question itself was so much like you, tender, touching and incredible. “Yes, my love, prepare the bed. I will be right there.”



Special thanks to my Editor, Justataste.

2 months ago. Thu 23 Aug 2018 08:08:04 PM IDT

Saturday was our day to get things done around the house. There were projects to do and life to accomplish. It was also a fun day for us. The mood was light and easy. All week we worked hard for others. We were both proud of what we did, but the weekend was for us. You sat at your vanity table fresh from the shower where you dried and brushed your long luscious hair. I simply stared. You are so beautiful.
You caught my attention out of the corner of your eye and smiled. “We have work to do today, Master,” you reminded me playfully. I didn’t move, simply admired what was mine. “Whom do you belong to?” Playful dismay exploded across your face. “Have you forgotten already?” you asked with mock concern. Just as quickly you softened and shoulders dropped tenderly. “You Master. I am completely owned by you. I am your possession and property. I am so grateful to be owned by you.” My smile grew as you brushed your long beautiful hair. 
You are a very insatiable flirt. The teasing, your soft eyes, gorgeous smile, all of it, is part of the daily flirting that I love so much. I am also secure in the fact that I am the only one that you flirt with. There were times when I was sure that you were oblivious to the fact that other men inhabited this planet.
You laid down the brush and I caught the mischievous twinkle of your eye in the mirror. You pulled your pretty hair over one shoulder effortlessly. When you parted your hair with your fingers, you gave me a soft knowing smile in the reflection.
You wear dresses, because that is what I like. You don’t wear panties, because that is what I prefer. Your nails are cared for and polished with French Tips for the same reason: it is what Master likes. 
The perfume that you wear, the shoes that you choose and the way that you wear your hair, draped over one shoulder are all to please me, your owner. As you intertwined the strands, I smiled. To me, this is the ultimate in compliments. You do everything in your daily life because that is what Master wants, what he commands. But this simple task is done for you… and me.
You wear your hair in a tight simple braid slung over one shoulder because I love it so much. It always arouses me. You do it to please me. You do it out of respect for the one you belong to.
So much is said about D/s relationships being built on trust. It is one of the first things that a new submissive demands of a potential dom, to be able to trust him completely.  They know that they want the trust of their dom, just not what it looks like or how to achieve it. A solid D/s relationship is built on trust AND respect. So often, respect is overlooked or dismissed outright. Do you think you are in a healthy relationship with your dominant? Ask yourself this. Do you respect your Dom? Does he respect you and do you both make a daily effort to convey that respect to the other? If you do, then you have what virtually all kink couples strive for, a healthy kink relationship. If you don’t have that, all is not lost. It simply shows you that there is more work to be done.
My humble opinion.
A special thank you to my editors, Justataste and LillyWhite40

2 months ago. Sun 19 Aug 2018 03:57:53 PM IDT

EVERY WOMAN IS BEAUTIFUL. That shouldn’t be a difficult statement to hear… yet it is. Many submissives come from a background of abuse, sexual, physical, emotional or a combination. Domination is NOT abuse. Submission is the greatest gift that ANYONE can give another person. That gift MUST be cherished and nurtured. The gift itself to be valued beyond measure. To that end, every woman has value and every one is beautiful. You may have been told otherwise before. In that case, lean on your Dom. Trust in him to build you up emotionally and physically. The more that he invests in you, the more of you that you will give to him. Of course there are different types of domination, but at the core of each, the submissive is valued and cherished. The next time that a Dominant tells you that you are beautiful, believe them! Lean on their understanding and experience. Instead of deflecting the compliment, thank them and embrace the fact that they see what you may not… yet.
If you find yourself with a Dom that insists on running you down as part of your “training”, that you simply are a worthless ho… I have advice for that as well…
A Gentleman Dom looks at things differently. He looks at his submissive differently. Of course she is his completely, but she is a possession to be cherished and embraced. If he doesn’t tell you daily that you are the most beautiful woman that he has ever known…
These are my humble opinions and are simply the ramblings of a Gentleman Dom.
Special thanks to my editors:   Justataste and Lillywhite40

2 months ago. Thu 16 Aug 2018 04:40:11 PM IDT

I walked into our bedroom when I suddenly stopped and smiled at the sight. Something that I had seen hundreds of times if not more and yet, it brought me pleasure. You were brushing your teeth like you did every night just before bed. I leaned against the bathroom doorjamb and simply watched as you rinsed your toothbrush. You looked up at me through the reflection in the mirror and smiled. “Master,” you said, “you have been around me all evening, why the loving look?” I smiled again. I gazed on you with amazement. You are a stunning beauty. This being a weeknight, you are not dressed in one of the many very sexy lingerie, that is reserved for the weekends. Tonight, you are in a simple green shimmering short nightgown that shows off your gorgeous legs amazingly. Heck, you would look incredible wearing a burlap sack. I am proud of you. You have taken good care of my property. I step behind you, my hands on your shapely waist. I kiss your neck and make eye contact with you in the mirror. My hands grope my beautiful breasts through the soft material. You close your eyes to savor the pleasure. “No, my bitch,” I instruct you, “I want you to watch me taking my property. I want you to fully comprehend just how completely that I own you.” “Yes Master, as you wish.’ Your emotions were incredible, your own pleasure building within and your owner’s pleasure before your eyes. You were mesmerized at the image before you in the reflection.
            I slip the two spaghetti straps off your shoulders and the silky material drops effortlessly down your gorgeous body. You watch in the mirror as my hands caress what I own. You place your hands on the counter to support the building pleasure. As I softy kiss the back of your neck, my hand caressing your thigh, I spy something and smile. I continue to grope my beautiful breast, the one that I own and pick up the rinsed dental instrument from the counter. I smile as I stare at your toothbrush. Your eyes become enormous as you stare at the previously benign instrument. Without another word I place the soft bristles on my clit and stroke gently. You moan loudly as I circle my delicate property. As the intensity builds you resist the desire to close your eyes and savor the pleasure. I smile at my possession as the body that I own squirms under my grasp. Your moans intensify as I slide the toothbrush into my drenched pussy. The bristles immediately soak up my pussy juices. I place the toothbrush to your lips and you eagerly taste the gift that I have given you. “Oh Master, it tastes so good!”
            You are snapped back into reality when you hear my pants hit the floor. When you look up again into the mirror, I am removing my shirt. As I take hold of your hips and pull them gently from the counter, I ask, “Who owns you?” The response came without hesitation, “Only you, my Master.” My rock hard cock slides easily into my soaked pussy. The response immediate, your moans are passionate. I grab your hair and gently pull your head upright. “No, my bitch. You don’t often get to see this. I want you to see exactly who you are and why you exist. I thrust deep inside of you. The passion on your face is intense and so very real. As the pleasure intensifies you look at me in the mirror. “Oh Master,” you gasp, “thank you for fucking your whore. Thank you for owning me.” As I thrust hard inside you a final time, I ask, “Who are you?” You smile weakly in the mirror, your mind and body exploding with pleasure. “I am Master’s bitch.”
A special thank you to my “editors”, Justataste and LillyWhiite40.
Author’s notes:
Thank you to all who read my first post, “Grocery Shopping”. The positive feedback was amazing.
If you try what the story suggests, a toothbrush massaging your clit, I would like to see a pic of it. Thank you for reading. MJS

3 months ago. Sun 22 Jul 2018 04:29:23 PM IDT

We were on our way home from grocery shopping. The conversation was light and easy as it always is between us. You were singing alone to the latest Country song on the radio when we came to the stoplight. I turned the station to light jazz. A first you were annoyed with me. Then you realized that I wasn’t looking at you. Over our time together, you have learned my signals. You suppress a smile. I calmly told you to remove your panties. Your response was a simple, “Yes, Master”. You slipped them off expertly suddenly serious on a mission for your owner. You stuffed them in your purse and shoed the open accessory to me as proof of your completed task. “Stroke my property,” was your next instruction. I could see you lifting your dress and spreading your legs. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the gift that Master was giving you. You purred softly as your fingers softly circled my clit.
By the time we arrived home, you were worked up to say the least. You were disappointed to have to stop to help carry groceries in. I could see it on your face. With the last of the groceries on the kitchen counter, I take you by the arm and kiss you softly on the forehead. “While I put away the perishables, go to our room and prepare yourself for me.” You smile slightly. “Yes Master. Gladly Master,” was all that you said and then quickly scampered down the hall.
When I walk in to our room, you are waiting for me. You are ready. You are on the floor in the NADU position, kneeling, legs apart, head down, hands resting on your thighs, palms up. I undress as I gaze upon you. I have never been disappointed looking at my property. I approach you already aroused. I lift your chin and then guide the back of your head forward. You start by licking my balls and freely fondling my cock. “Who do you belong to?” You smile, your eyes meet mine. “I belong to you Master,” you tell me. “How long will you be mine?” You become more serious as you stroke me, your hand fully wrapped around my cock. “I will belong to you as long as it pleases you Master.” “And if it pleases me to own you forever, what then?” You smile slightly and tell me, “Then I will belong to you forever, Master.” I increase he pressure on the back of your head and push your mouth on to my hard cock.
You feel me growing deep inside your mouth. This is where you belong. This is who you know that you are, serving your Master. I lift you easily by the chin and raise you to standing. I kiss you passionately. “On the bed, my bitch, and spread wide for me.”  You lay in the middle of our bed, your legs spread, my pussy glistening with anticipation. I begin by kissing your inner thighs. I can smell your musty anticipation. I kiss my pussy, then your stomach and keep kissing my way up your beautiful body. My nipples are rock hard when I get to my beautiful breasts. I pause to kiss and suck on them. When I finally kiss your lips, I slide easily deep inside of you. “Who are you?” You feel me pound deep inside of you and breathlessly acknowledge, “I am my Master’s bitch.”

3 months ago. Sun 22 Jul 2018 04:28:42 PM IDT

I have never been a blogger. I have read a few. That said, I have been encouraged by my many friends on the Cage to write down my thoughts and erotic stories. Too my many friends, your opinions and critiques are appreciated. To new readers, I would love to hear what you have to say. Enjoy!