Visits to Master have been more frequent recently. Once again here is a true story which I hope readers will enjoy. Please do continue to email me, it gives me encouragement to know how much readers enjoy these accounts of my life. Please also feel free to ask questions and to tell me about your own adventures. Thanks to Nifty for providing this platform - financial contributions are always welcome.
I think the word is 'slurping', yes this is what i am doing as my tongue licks in an upward direction from Master's left side, up into the the dark recess of His hairy, damp armpit and on up the inner side of His arm. And again, i lower my head and repeat the move, trying so hard to be slower in order to savour the intoxicatingly sour, man-musk. There is something earthy and primal here, the moist glistening of His hairs, the slick sweat produced by His morning labours, and for this moment as i kneel forward, legs always apart to allow Him access to my balls, i am lost in the worship of Master, lost in adoration of His masculinity as though by my licking and slurping i am imbibing something of His essential being. At this moment this is my world and nothing else has significance. My being is subsumed in Master's will, He becomes my purpose and in that fulfilment is my freedom to be myself.
It has been a long session today, Master began with punishment, truly deserved, for unauthorised masturbation, so often a problem for this slave. I sometimes wish that Master would allow me to wear a chastity device and then i would no longer have to battle the demons in the daily struggle to keep from playing with my dicklet. Master frequently reminds me that i have no business wanking off because He claims it as His property. He does however allow me to play with it, edging myself into a state of frenzied alarm in case i go too far, spilling my (His, in fact!) semen as though i were a real man. Naturally i always confess to this misdemeanor as He always asks, and to lie would be unthinkable. I guess He forbids me a chastity cage so i can learn self control, or maybe He just likes another reason to punish me!
A severe thrashing with the riding crop brought out yelps and screams but i was still able to remember my manners and thank Him for each stroke. Master then ordered me to stand and to lean in to him. With my sobbing face buried in His neck i begged forgiveness for my pathetic, selfish failing.
Somehow i sense there will be more to suffer today although Master is now comforting me, holding my head in His hands and drawing me in for a deep kiss. How i treasure such moments of tenderness!
And then had come that invitation, not an order but a beckoning, to immerse myself in one of my favourite places in the whole world, my safe place, my destination of dreams, Master's pits!
But of course He is strict and His expectations are high. His slave deep in the happy sub-space of Master's sweaty armpit has not yet fully atoned for the misdemeanor. Pushed to my knees i suckle on His cock, teasing back the foreskin with my tongue, no hands allowed. This is another treasured moment wondering what tastes and man-smells lie beneath. I marvel at the smoothness of His engorged cockhead, now revealed, worthy of worship, and i try to lick as much of it as possible in one move gathering all the precum and traces of His piss, the softness of my tongue slithering over and around that slick-shiny, silky-smooth skin.
Such delicacy of movement was short lived, Master grabbed my head and ram fucked my skull, sending His shaft deep into my throat and at the same time asking me questions which He knew i would struggle to answer.
"Why did you disobey?" "Don't you want to please your master?" "When will you learn to control that pathetic dicklet?"
The questions kept coming but the opportunities to answer were few. As I gulped for air between thrusts i tried to compose my replies.
"I'm sssorrry Mmmmaster!" "I couldn't help it, i i was just ... eurrgh ...playing with my little dicklet and ...." "Pppplease help me to learn bbbetter Mmmmaster!" "I only ever want to ...to ... to ... please You Master!"
As i should have realised, Master had no intention of feeding me His precious seed. This was the real punishment. He withdrew His cock and sent me into the bathroom. At the toilet He supervised as i was ordered to jerk off into the bowl as fast as possible, my jism washed down the toilet bowl like a useless waste product. I was then ordered to get on all fours and for a foolishly gleeful moment it seemed to me that He was about to fuck me. But no, i had not deserved it. The next thing i felt was the hot splash of seed striking my lower back and arse cheeks, dribbling, as it cooled, down the back of my thighs and between my upper legs. This was a bitter sweet punishment, far more effective than any thrashing. I could neither see, nor taste His seed. Nor was it entering my body.
"Get up, put on your briefs and the rest of your clothes and go home still wet with my seed as a reminder of your disobedience."
Master's voice was calm but firm. His cum was soaking my underwear and seeping through into my jeans and the back of my shirt. When Master comes there is always so much seed that i revel in its sheer volume but this time it is not for me to see, or taste or to be bred by. It is just a soaking; and as i move i feel it sticking to my skin, and, once again my dicklet is rock hard! When Master Calls next time i hope i shan't have anything to confess. I could not bear for His precious seed to be used in this way again.