I’m waiting. I’m waiting for him. I have waited for days and I have lost track of time. He leaves me here alone, in our dim little space, no windows, no clocks, I am here with only my thoughts of him, and when he will return to me. My Master.
I only call him Master in my head. I have never spoken that word to him.
He has allowed me to start a diary. So I am writing this down. I need this for my sanity, as the times that he leaves me here all alone are growing more frequent and for longer periods of time.
I am naked except for the collar he has me wear at all times. I have been naked for months since I became his full-time house slut. That is my name, that is what Master calls me. My whole existence is for him. To be here for him and tend to his every need, his every desire. I cook and clean for him. He has a strict list of household chores that I follow. Washing dishes, doing his laundry, scrubbing the floors and toilets. I never want to disappoint him.
I have been told to bathe daily and keep my pussy shaved for him. I have also been instructed that I can no longer speak unless I am spoken to and only when I am asked a direct question that requires an answer. He controls my menstrual cycle by having me skip the placebo birth control pills. He has taken complete control of my body and mind. He is my life, my world, my entire being.
I could leave if I wanted to, the door is not locked, and there are no safe words. I am here of my own free will, he knows that. I have access to food, water, and a bathroom, but that is all. Just the basic necessities of life. He left me one set of clothes that I could wear if there was an emergency and I needed, or wanted, to leave our space. But he knows I will not. He knows I will be here when he returns ready to serve him. My Master.
Our relationship started out normal enough. The first time he made love to me he was so gentle with me, like I was a delicate flower or something. The setting was so romantic. Those days are gone.
Slowly we descended down this dark path.
I remember early on in our relationship, he showed up unannounced at my apartment in the middle of the night stinking drunk. An obvious booty call. I almost did not let him in the door. That was the first time he was rough with me.
Within seconds he had pushed his way inside my apartment and was all over me. My initial disgust turned to lust as he took control of my body. He turned me around and bent me over the arm of the sofa and tore off my pajama pants and panties. He entered me from behind, shoving his cock deep inside of me without warning or foreplay. It hurt for a few seconds because my pussy had not even gotten wet in anticipation of having sex, he was inside of me so fast. It did not take long though.
He grabbed hold of my hips and fucked me harder than I had ever been fucked before. I came hard, my face smashed into a pillow on the sofa. He held my head in place by grabbing a handful of my hair as he pumped his cock in and out of me.
I remember he pulled out and bent down and licked my pussy a few times. He spread my ass cheeks with his hands and spit on my asshole. Then he stood back up and positioned himself and slid inside my ass only lubricated by his spit and my cum still wet on his cock. I had never had anal sex before that night. He pushed himself in and out a few times before going in as deep as he could and I felt him throbbing inside as he came.
When he was finished he pulled his pants back up and walked out the door without saying a word. I just laid there face down still bent over the sofa with his cum leaking out of my ass. He had marked his territory.
Things were never the same after that night.
Our sex life progressively was more primal. Gone were the days of romantic dinner dates, flowers, and making love. Now we only saw each other to have sex and it got rougher and kinkier as time went on. I don’t know if he seduced me early on to deliberately pull me into his world, or if we changed together over time. Whatever the cause he intensified his control and degradation and I responded to it. Our progression was pushed as much by my willingness to submit as his own dominance.
A major turning point in our relationship came when I lost my job. I had bills piling up and I could not make my rent. I remember he visited me one day at my apartment and I was a wreck. I was depressed and crying. I was in a bad financial situation and was having trouble finding a decent new job. He held me in his arms and stroked the back of my hair and assured me everything would be OK. He told me I could come stay with him as long as I liked and he would take care of me. Facing dire financial problems, I agreed. He moved me into his place within a few days. We put my furniture in storage and I came to live with him only with clothes and a few personal items.
I was ready for a new start.
Once we lived together the dynamics of our relationship changed rapidly. He would go to work and I was left at home during the day. I would get online and look for jobs, and play on the internet to have something entertaining to do. He paid for everything, I was practically penniless at this point. Our dominant and submissive roles became more and more clearly defined. I played the part of a housewife taking care of all the chores and in the evenings was eager to cook nice meals for him, and please him sexually. This was in exchange for him taking care of my needs. He kept me fed, clothed, gave me money, and kept a roof over my head. He was my provider, my protector.
At this point I was not his slave. But he had started ordering me around to a degree. He would buy skimpy outfits and have me wear them around the house when I did the chores. He told me how to wear my hair, how to do my make-up. When we went anywhere he always set the plans and agenda. When he needed something like a drink, he always told me to go get it for him and I always did as I was told. He was slowly taking complete control over me.
The same was true in the bedroom. What started as being tied up and spanked escalated to much dirtier things. It was during this time that he started calling me a slut every time he fucked me. This always made me cum and he read those queues and he understood that I enjoyed being subservient to him. He has made me do dirty awful things and I have done them without regret.
He sat me down a few months ago and told me he wanted me to submit to him on a different level. I was not sure what he meant but I listened intently to his every word.
He told me that he loved me, and how much I meant to him, and that he wanted me to become his slave. It’s funny that was the first time he had uttered the word to me, but in the days leading up to that conversation, the word had been running through my mind already. I feel like we were already on that path without ever discussing it.
Before I gave him my answer he laid out the ground rules which have changed somewhat over time as we have pushed our boundaries. Some of the rules that have not changed since the beginning are as follows. First, is that I have free-will and can stop everything at any time. Second, I am not allowed to leave his apartment except in the case of an emergency. I was to become his house slave. Lastly, that I would have no contact with any friends or family. No communication with the outside world. No television, no cell phones, no internet. I would devote myself both emotionally and sexually to him, and only him. My Master.
My answer was yes.
And so that brings us to where we are today. I have completely given myself over to him. He is in absolute control over me and I live to serve his every need. I see no end in sight and I wonder how far he will push me. How far will I go?
So here I sit, and I wait, naked and alone, longing to see him again. Saving myself for him. These lonely hours are hardest, but when he comes back to me as he always does, he gives me what I live for. It makes it all worth while. I cannot hardly wait until he walks through that door and I crawl to him once again, ready to serve.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/128qc5a/diary_of_a_house_slut_f_part_1