Another long post about a wonderful night

Two huge glasses of red wine and one sexy Master makes for a very floaty slave. Oh yes. Last night I drank one glass of wine, and then Sir headed toward the restroom. I met him on his way out, wobbling in my heels (I was dressed in his favorite black dress, a thong, black heels, and black leather wrist and ankle cuffs), and kissed him. He backed me against the wall in the hallway and pulled, pinched and twisted my nipples as he kissed me hard. Then I said something about how another glass of wine and a spanking could make for an interesting night, since I was already feeling very buzzed and floaty. He gave me a little smirk as he pushed me onto my knees. Obediently, reading his body language, I unzipped his jeans and freed him from his boxers and sucked him off for a while - until he took my arms and pulled me up. He pushed me back against the wall again, pulled my dress up, pushed my thong aside, and fingered me for a few minutes. I was breathless and didn't even really know what he was going to do when he spun me around until I was facing the wall. I remember pressing my palms and cheeks against the wall and thinking how cool it was in comparison. When he lifted my skirt, I wasn't sure whether he was going to spank me or take me from behind. He opted for the former, landing a few hard smacks with his hand against my bottom. Then he pulled my dress down and told me to get myself another glass of wine.

It was only later that I realized the patio door had been wide open, with our spot in the hallway fully visible from the back yard we share with several other apartments. *Blushes*

But, he wasn't done with me yet. Another huge glass of wine later, I tottered into the bedroom. He was digging through our toy trunk. He made me lay on my stomach and he gagged me and chain my wrists to the headboard. Then he had me get on my elbows and knees. He took several licks with his heavy leather belt. I moaned through the gag, sighing with naive relief when he stopped. He slid his hands underneath my breasts and brought me up until I was on hands and knees, my breasts hanging toward the bed. He pinched and pulled at my nipples a bit before he picked up the clothespins and clamped one onto each nipple. I moaned - my poor nipples don't get so much as one night off from being pinched and pulled and twisted and clamped, so they're almost always tender - and he went back to the trunk. A few hits with the makeshift whip, a few with a bamboo spoon, and he finally stopped. He had me roll onto my back - the clothespins hit the mattress as I rolled, causing me to groan. "Which hand do you masturbate with?" he asked. I raised my right hand and waited as he removed the chain from my right wrist and connected it back to the headboard, leaving my right arm free. I pulled the gag out of my mouth, as I choke on drool if I'm flat on my back while wearing it. It hung around my neck. "Pleasure yourself." I did, barely any hesitation, even though it I've had a hard time making myself cum lately. He climbed over me kissing my body, pulling at the clothespins, pressing his chest to mine so they dug hard into my breasts. "Make yourself cum. I want you to make yourself cum. If I don't feel your juices I'm going to roll you over and beat you." I moaned, afraid it was impossible. My fingers moved furiously, my arm aching. He pulled one clothespin off, bit my nipple hard enough to make me cry out, and then moved to put the clothespin back on. "No, please!" I gasped out, before I even realized what I was doing. He paused. "What did you say?" "Please, please, please Sir, no!" He shrugged. "Okay." He pulled the other clothespin off and bit that nipple equally hard, as I realized that my fingers had never stopped moving. He clipped the clothespins to my cunt lips, then thrust his fingers inside of me, in and out, in and out, hard and fast. I was on the verge of cumming, when he stopped, and just that quickly I couldn't cum. "How does it feel to know I got you that close and I'm making you do it yourself?" he asked me. "It's exhilirating and terrifying that you've taken so much control over me." I breathed out. He smiled, that wicked smile that all Masters seem to take classes to learn. "Stop." he said, in that deep, no-nonsense voice. My fingers stopped moving at once, I pulled them away from my pussy and laid my hand on my thigh. He thrust his cock into me and pumped, growling into my ear. "I gave you your chance. Now you won't cum until you beg for it." I moaned, already nearly bursting. He pounded into me over and over again until I was begging. "Oh please, Sir, please." "No." "Please..." "No." My words became more desperate as the seconds ticked away, the intensity building. His one simple "No" stayed just the same. Tough, no-nonsense, Master voice. Finally, "Cum." And I did. Then, I was left chained to the bed, with the laptop and porn, forbidden to masturbate but allowed to watch, as he rolled over and went to sleep. A while later, once I had calmed down a bit, I put the laptop by the bed and slept, chained to the headboard.

And as I typed that, I realized that the only thing that could have made last night any more perfect in my eyes, is to have been called names. Why is it that I long to hear certain things?

"Roll over, bitch."
"No, cunt."
"Cum, slut."

I can imagine the words rolling off of his tongue, how they would sound. Just the thought is enough to send chills down my spine. Objectification, I suppose. But it doesn't matter. Sir always tells me not to question what makes me happy. I suppose I can live with that, so long as what makes me happy doesn't hurt anyone else and isn't illegal.

P.S. He took my collar off this morning, as the rash was getting worse. It looks as if it's going to be retired. I don't know when I'll be collared again. I've found the permanent collar I want cheaper - $70, instead of $90, but it's still not in the foreseeable future. He is hoping to get the design for my tattoo finished and have me tattooed at the first of June, though. I'm excited about that. Nervous too, as I'm very particular about my tattoos.