“Not feeling like chatting on the phone
Too Sleepy…
Too much sun today.
Plus, I have work tomorrow.”
I know, My Master, no worries
You have been crazy busy the last few days
But having a lot of fun, My Wolf
And some needy bitch kept you up late last night too, My Master
(Pic of Slave lying in bed in lace bra and panties)
“True.
My needy bitch in HEAT”
Not even that excuse, My Master
More psychological than physical need last night, My Master
Needed to submit to you, My Lord
“And, submit you did my little slave who pisses herself on command
And, then sits in it.
Cleans it off her fingers on command.”
That’s the first time I ever tasted pee, My Master
(Pic of Slave shirt pulled up and tits in lace bra thrust forward)
That was good/bad how you made me lick my cum and piss off my own hands, My Master
“Hee hee.
I did….”
Maybe that will be my phrase for it, My Lord
“O
Phrase for?
Trigger word for?”
I am trying to think of a way to convey when you command something that I find both disgusting and exciting, My Master
(Master sends image of beautiful nude submissive woman collared, curled up at the feet of a faceless man, all you can see are his legs and balled up fists)
“O
Mauhauaha”
And then I am obedient to you and I feel incredibly subby and vulnerable and under your power and ecstatic, My Lord
“It is a paradox”
Yes, it very much is, My Master
Like the first time you put the plug in your FC1, My Master
Those moments are amazing, My Lord
You are amazing, My Lord
“As are you for being so open to exploring, My Treasure”
Piss Play Levels Up
I have been really missing direct play with you, My Master, which I had mentioned in a few blog posts now. You do grab the occasional, on the fly, phone call or video chat and those are always incredible. I do find it exhilarating to be so abruptly and unexpectedly ripped from my normal day to kneeling at your feet in any number of public or private spaces. But I also really missed having planned play time, like we did a few times early on in our relationship, when you were still pursuing me. You would set an actual date with me, tell me what toys to have available, clearly have prepared an outline of what you wanted to do and essentially we would have a scene, sometimes with video, more often over the phone with occasional pictures. I miss the opportunity for deeper subspace and being directly under your command, being corrected, being praised and degraded in equal measure, feeling your powerful influence on me. And of course, being brought to climax again and again, each one breaking down my thinking, analyzing, stressed out brain until I’m a fucked out, drooling, mindless Slave who is just waiting for your next command.
I don’t like to ask you for playtime because I know it is inconvenient for you due to difficulties with privacy on both ends, you have a busy schedule and I don’t like to pursue men for sex. That mirrors the issues I have in my marriage too closely for comfort. But Friday my husband was going to be out late with one of his girlfriends and I would have the house to myself. I asked if you might be available and you said that after eight you would be. You asked if we needed to talk or play and how late I was available. I said I didn’t know but would ask my husband. You said it would be naughty time for Mama and you would call after my children were asleep. Sadly, because you have backed out or forgotten about play several times in the past, I wasn’t too optimistic about it actually happening. I was walking my dog and chatting over text with a friend in the lifestyle, getting very sassy venting about you and how frustrated I was.
As I hadn’t heard from you and it was getting very late, I figured it was a no go. I patted myself on the back for not getting too excited about a session with you and for anticipating that you would cancel. You did text me, to my surprise and told me about your evening. I told you that I was annoyed that you said you were going to play with me and then changed your mind. I reminded you that I had asked you not to mention playtime if you were not confident that you would be able to follow through. You were very surprised as you had interpreted the conversation differently and didn’t know that I was expecting to be able to play. You were tired from a long, active day and now I was mad at you for letting me down about something you had never even agreed to. I immediately apologized for the confusion and felt badly about my tone towards you.
I was shocked when you told me that you were looking for a private place so you could speak to me immediately. I felt terribly guilty as I understood at that point that there had been miscommunication. I tried to make you go home and rest but you ignored me. Apparently we were going to play come hell or high water. I scurried out to my car, which was in the garage, so I could talk (and hopefully moan) loudly without waking anyone up.
In the car we chatted a bit and it was so lovely to hear your voice, My Master. That masculine, dry, measured voice, so firm and powerful. The voice that can make me cum on command, make me kneel, make me snap my head to attention. The voice of My Master. You enjoyed making me cum unexpectedly during out chatting, hearing my little pants and moans. The orgasms got stronger the longer we talked. Soon I was writhing in the front seat, your voice in my ear, telling me to feel FC2 clenching and dripping as you commanded my body to obey. You let me calm down for a bit, then casually asked what I was wearing. I explained it was just leggings and a cotton shirt; I was barefoot.
You told me to step out of the car, spread my legs open while standing and reach my hands up high and far apart on the car roof. You described kicking my legs farther apart and told me to feel your hands running up and down my body. I was so excited, My Master. You were too. You told me your cock was hard in your shorts. Your creative, devious, Dom energy was high and I desperately needed to submit to you. You stretched me even farther, my hands against the cold metal of the car, my feet on the hard, cold concrete. And then you told me to piss on myself.
It’s surprisingly hard to do although I suppose I will eventually get better at it. Decades of indoctrination are hard to ignore. I pushed down hard and tried to relax my bladder. After a few moments of effort, I felt warm liquid seeping down my legs. “I’m doing it, My Master”, I told you, feeling strange mix of shame, pride and excitement. “Good girl”, you cooed at me, smug and satisfied, knowing in advance that your Slave would play your games happily or not. Because what makes me most happy is when part of me doesn’t want to play, of course. You kept me there, spread eagle against the car, alternately pissing on myself and cumming at your command. You demanded that I not move when I came and I was so with you in my mind that I felt actual fear, that even though you are so far away, somehow you would know if I moved. That somehow I would feel the sting of your firm hand in correction.
I thought I was done, but of course, My Master always takes me further, always helps me to grow and seek my limits. I was given my reward for being such an obedient Slave and told to sit in the puddle of piss on the floor, now grown cold. At this point I felt my mind begin to float, anxiety melted away and with it any conception of resisting your commands. I felt extremely relaxed, thoughtless and present in the moment. It is almost a trance state and I feel like my voice changes in that state, becoming heavy, slower and thick. I was in subspace and I readily sat in my piss, put my feet together and spread my knees apart.
As instructed I put my hands in my panties and played with your clit while pissing on my hands, rubbing the warm urine over your wet pussy, which was already slippery and dripping. Everything was warm, wet, filthy and obscene. I loved it. You heard the excitement in my voice and urged me on, telling me to cum. I don’t remember so much from this part because I don’t form solid memories in subspace but I remember the feeling of the hot piss on my hands, your slippery fuck cunt under my fingers, crying out in ecstasy as I orgasmed so hard. Then you told me to lick the piss and cum off my fingers…and I did it without hesitation. I may have been laughing as I did this disgusting thing, I’m not sure. I remember thinking it was my first taste of piss, but most surely not my last. I remember thinking about how your piss will taste, My Master and smiling as I imagined the awful and wonderful uses you will put me to.
Playtime was over and I was a mess, as was my garage floor. You gently brought me down a bit, encouraged me to go get washed up and told me you would check in on me later to make sure I was feeling okay. I cleaned the garage floor and went in the house, stripped off the cold, smelly clothing and threw it in the tub with me where I took a long hot, shower, blissed out and feeling entirely connected to you and at peace. All my sassy, frustrated, demanding rudeness had evaporated after My Master used and enjoyed me. All my insecurity and worry, my competitive feelings about other women in your life, my longing for you, temporarily relieved by connection and submission. You did check in on me before bed and I sent you a pic of me in a pink cotton nightgown, no make up, hair still damp from the shower and you called me cute. I thanked you from the bottom of my heart as I fell asleep, a little smirk on my lips after my adventures with My Master.