It started like any other night-
Dinner, an in-depth exchange of how our day went.
Our phone swap.
A nightly phone call to check in on my sister, as we cleaned up dinner.
“Girl, I want you ready in 10 minutes!”
I bounced off to quickly put on my uniform.
A black corset dress, stockings, thigh highs, No panties.
And prepared his favorite drink:
Dragon fruit vodka, fruit punch rockstar, and a splash of my blood.
Filled his pipe with fresh bud.
I assumed my position, sitting pretty my legs folded under me, by his desk,
Holding his pipe and drink on a crystal platter.
He came in, took his drink and sat in his chair
“Yes master” I smiled and bowed before positioning myself on my comfy cushion,still holding the platter up.
“At ease girl, You may put the tray on the side table.”
“Thank you, master.” I said following his command.
“The dom you mentored with today, he says you were an excellent hostess, stuck to protocol, as well as followed my rules. You deserve to be rewarded for that, and you will be, if you can be patient.”
“OH, thank you master, of course I can, I must remember to thank the dom for speaking so highly of me. ”
He took a swig of his drink, and set it down,
“Come, sit on my lap girl you look way too appetizing to sitting on the floor”
I blushed deeply and sat on his lap. “Thank you master.”
I grabbed his pipe off the platter, while he started to explore me with his hands, his fingers found my juicy peach. Even though we had been together just this morning, it felt as if he hadn’t touched me in years, making it hard for me to hold and light his pipe for him.
But I managed, just as he plunged two fingers into my pussy.
I moaned and he inhaled his green light.
“Thank you, my sweet, put it down.” His fingers moving in and out of me and pressing hard on to my clit.
“Yes ….master…” my breathless reply. My body started to heat up, as if flames were licking me.
“Only …at your …command …master”
He suddenly released my pussy allowing me to catch my breath as he licked his fingers clean.
Then kissed me as if it would be the last time he ever would.
He signaled me to remove his clothes.
I took off his shirt first, feeling his hot, hard, well toned body against mine, running my hands down his torso to his belt, whipped it out and put it in his hand, finally dropping his pants and boxers.
As he bit my shoulder hard enough to draw blood I felt his erection grow,HOT, hard, and ready. He unceremoniously ripped my uniform off.
He picked me up, my back to the wall…
Where the swing hung.
Plunging into me, he ground out,
(In Italian) “I love You, girl” and began nursing on my shoulder again as he fucked me.
Quickly situating me in the swing.
I could feel his cock throbbing, reaching the edge of ecstasy.
My body hot and begging for release. I finally felt his belt tightening around my neck, he left it there only long enough cut his wrist and stick it to my mouth willing me to suck.
I gladly obliged as he continued to tighten the belt. I started gasping for air and heard his command.
Together we reached climax, simultaneously loosening his belt,
Turning the hot waves of my release into a tsunami.
Causing me to scream out “OH LUCIEN” (during play time, release is the only time I was allowed to say his name)
“OH FUCK Angelyn! ” he screams trying to catch his breath.
“Thank you master, I love you.”
His phone rings. I recognize his sister’s ringtone.
A deep sigh from him… “Yea.. I’ll be there tomorrow…”
He sits down in his comfy chair, finishes his drink in one giant swig, and lights his pipe.
After a long drag.
“Girl, please book a ticket to New York, the next flight out.”
Clearly pissed off, he finishes the bowl and throws on his clothes.
As I’m booking his flight, he angrily packs things into his suitcase….
When I am done, I pick up my torn uniform and put it in the trash. I slip into a pair of jeans and a t shirt and throw my hair up.
He’s still cussing to himself in Italian so I start singing one of his favorite songs.. He instantly calms.
He pulls me into a hug. “You made the ticket open ended? ”
I nod and continue singing “Shouldn’t be gone longer than two weeks.”
He finishes packing and I drive him to the airport.
We chatter the entire 2 hours.
At the terminal he kisses me passionately and says he me will call when he lands.
“I can’t wait master. I love you.”
“I love you more, my sweet”
I stay until he boards the plane, watching as it leaves.
I drive home and wait by the phone for his call.
6 hours later.
My phone rings. It’s him.
“I have landed. I wish you could have come along, my sweet. I will talk to you later.”
I crawl into bed and cuddle his pillow.
I am awoken 2 hours later by a video call.
“You stupid bitch! Cut your fucking collar off, right now!”
He screams as soon as the video connects.
“What did I do? What happened?”
“Don’t play stupid! (Slew of random Italian I don’t understand, but probably highlighted what I did, or am being accused of) cut off the collar.”
I begged him for two hours not to make me do it. That we could work through whatever it was, I would make it better. He still hadn’t told me what I had even done, what he had heard…
In the end I obeyed his final command. Cutting my own collar off.
If you have ever had your collar taken away you know that the feeling is worse than a tragic vanilla break up, because the master/slave bond is deeper than an average couple..
When you are forced to remove your own collar, for a reason you don’t even know…
Well it is intensified 666 times.
Just like that, I am naked and exposed.
My sister spent hours keeping me from killing myself.
There I lay, STRIPPED…
Of my title, my collar, my world, my life, my love..
My heart on the ground.
STRIPPED, of my pride and dignity. My sense of existence.
Will I ever find out what I have done wrong? I sincerely doubt it.
Maybe that was his way of making sure I never serve another master…