“Can I masturbate please, Sir?”
‘If you plug yourself, come in here, get under the desk, and worship my balls while I have a wank to porn.’
My heart sank. For some reason this annoyed me. I was super horny, and had already mapped out my plan… getting into the shower and using the jet stream of the shower head to find that blissful yumminess of water stimulation… a definite favourite for me.
I sat there as I contemplated that not only had that whole plan just flown out the window, it was now unlikely I would cum at all because I would be focused on Him. I got more annoyed. Dragged my feet. Got up slowly and went to put my plug in. I was so horny dammit! I just wanted to cum! I just wanted a private moment to myself for my own pleasure!
But… no.
I went into His study, crawled under the desk (rather unenthusiastically), spread my legs, began touching myself, and licking His balls. I knew straight away that I wasn’t going to cum. And I knew straight away that He was going to cum quickly. As I was licking, He began stroking His cock, and said casually, ‘you will never masturbate alone again. It will either be with Me or with another slave when we have one… but never alone again.’
There are usually always two internal responses for me. A part that finds things super hot, and a part that hates it (but finds that super hot also). This time however, there was also a little bit of anger. He touched on something. Something very deep, and something very personal.
When He came, I cleaned up His yummy goodness (for some reason He tastes soooooo good), and asked if I could go and shower. I then got in the shower and masturbated. This is the first time I have directly defied my Master. It was such a “fuck you.” It brought such curiosity because a) I pride myself on being a good girl, and b) since my first wanderings into this way of life my orgasms have basically been “owned” by someone or other. I’ve been asking permission to masturbate for so long now it seems odd when I don’t have anyone to ask. And yet I realised something this morning. I had never really truly given my orgasms away. Or perhaps I should say, I have never truly shared the privacy of my orgasms. I have never invited or allowed anyone to share that aspect of my sexuality. Everything else, yes. But my orgasms, no. For me they’ve always been super private and for me only. I don’t know why. Perhaps because I grew up in a family that allowed me no privacy whatsoever, so that is the one thing I kept just for me. But for some reason, this order felt so intrusive. It’s the first time I’ve experienced anything that has truly challenged me. Truly challenged a deep part of me. And I still don’t know how I feel about it. I’m scared I guess. I don’t like the thought of giving Him that level of power. I can’t believe He found it. My kryptonite. I’m angry. I’m scared that I’ll never get to orgasm again. I’m annoyed that He has now made everything I have, completely about Him. I wanted to keep that selfish little part just for me, and He has ruined that… and I didn’t even realise I felt that way until now. I’m angry that He has permeated every part of me… without me controlling it. Such a swift card to play. And some part of me thinks He knows. That He’s been holding onto that one. That all this time He has seen me better than I expected. Bastard.
The irony is that I have craved to be seen authentically, my entire life. I have craved handing over that power and vulnerability. I crave enthusiastic subservience. And now, feeling so exposed, I don’t like it. I don’t like having nowhere to hide. It makes me feel so fragile.
The problem also is that it really, really turns me on…
