Diary of a Slave: Domestic Servitude [M/f][BDSM] [Sadism]

10/11/16
Master’s office
NYC

Dear Diary,

This week Master said it was time for me to learn to serve him. 

Master is sweet but he is also very strict. This is our week-day schedule:

8am Master showers. I wait outside with a towel to dry him once he finishes. Sometimes while I am on my knees to dry his legs he takes the opportunity to use my mouth for its original design, which would mean as a receptacle for his cum. He grabs me from the back of my head and rams his cock down my throat, hard. That is a treat for me and Master says it will only happen when I am very good. 

8:30 While Master gets dressed, I cook him breakfast (two eggs, scrambled, and bread lightly toasted). I also serve him tea. He takes it with no sugar and just a drop of milk. The first few days I put too much milk in and he pinched my nipples so hard that my sorry tits were bruised silly and hurt for days. Now I know the exact color the tea will make when I stir it so that I have prepared it perfectly. The smell of it makes me wet.

When I Forget Who Owns Me [MF] [BDSM] [SADISM]

“Slut, come here,” calls my Master from the other room.

I am my Master’s slave.

“Slut!” he calls, a bit louder than the last time.

I belong to him, body, mind and soul. My tits are his, my ass is his, my mouth is his to do with as he pleases. My skin is his to bruise, to smack, to whip, to hit, to burn. My mouth is his, to fuck, to use, to serve as a receptacle for his pleasure and release.

“In. Here. Now.”

I am his completely. I do everything he says.

“SLUT!”

Except right now. Right now I am ignoring him, because he is annoying.

“Is somebody looking for a bruising?” Master is standing in the doorway.

Uh-oh.

I think I’m about to be in trouble.

There is time, still, to turn this around. My Master is forgiving. I can tell him sweetly that I didn’t hear him, though I wouldn’t because that wouldn’t be true. I did hear him.

I just didn’t feel like answering.