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Hilda’s two Masters
part 9 of 15
HILDA:
**Flashback
**Flashback **Flashback **Flashback
** Flashback at my
life with Mats:
(You will soon
understand why I will show this, which now after my
deed-of-gift, is history. I feel a so wonderful loyalty to the deed-of-gift.)
Mats free me from
worries and fear for future and took the responsibility for my whole life.
I had never had any
orgasm before I met Mats and didn’t even know what it was. When the “big girls”
was talking about it as a natural thing in life, I was quiet and in shame.
But as soon as Mats
and I played Master-slave-games I felt it coming. And I had my very first
orgasm after a week-end as Mats total slave-girl and when I had to give his one
orgasm after another. In his bed he made love to me and I felt it rising inside of me and out.
My first orgasm
followed by many, but only after our games and they follow the degree of
difficultly of his demand on me. He was the Master not only over my body and my
mind but also over my orgasms.
He had no difficulties
to find bad and difficult orders for me to obey.
At one occasion when
he and I visit his friend Erik at his home and after that they had had some
glass of whisky he suddenly ordered me to undress. Use to follow his orders I
obeyed and stood soon naked in front of them. He raised his eyebrows and I took
quickly the order-position. I was humiliated when I felt Erik’s eye searching
over my naked and unprotected body in this position. But I must admit that also
affected other nerves in my mind in a more stimulating way. After he had showed
my body in different positions I was allowed to dress again, but then I didn’t
care. I could as well be naked as there was nothing more for Erik so see.
When we were home I
received my very best orgasm.
During the last month
has sex between Mats and me being more and more objective, as I see it.
It was as if his
orgasms and sperm-releases only was a short everyday event with out of any
relation to feelings at all.
In the beginning it
made me sad but I was forced to accept it. I was his slave-girl. I was
overwhelmed by gratefulness to Mats, who had lifted all the awful decisions
from my shoulders that had terrorized me before. I had been very close to a
nervous breakdown until he released me from it and took all the decisions for
me. I was grateful.
To make my mind more
accepting he had me on my knees before him and repeating loudly:
“Master, I’m your
slave and my only mission in life is your pleasure and your enjoyment. Beyond
that I’m nothing!”
I had to repeat this one hundred times.
It sunk into my mind
so I thought just like that. This was also much of what I wanted, but I also
wanted something else as well.
My orgasms were not
that common any longer, but now I knew were to search it and what aroused it.
I could always kneel
before Mats and beg him to let me masturbate on the floor before him and when
he decided it, let me cum. It was not humiliating any longer.
When Mats broke up
with me I had no other thought in my head more than only he was the one who had
pleasure. I was extremely unhappy that I couldn’t be there to release him when
he wanted it. Gladly as his sex-toy if I only could be near him.
Sex with Mats had
grown to be so exact, everyday and objective and he wanted it that way. I must
with my body release him in that way he chooses. I must give the maximal of
feelings, eagerness, technique and devotion to work up to a release for him and
then it was over.
Then I had to go back
to my everyday tasks or to that I was doing when he interrupt me for his urgent
release.
I had to be his
sperm-release-doll or sperm-sucker that was at duty when ever he wanted and
needed it.
And that I did. I also
learn to accept that it was half-way okay, but not 100% okay. For that he must
put in more training for me and more depressing by him.
Often he actually used
the words: “sperm-bucket”, “sperm-releasing-doll”, “sperm-sucker”
when he called me, but he did it with a smile, as if humor deleted the
humiliating addressing.
His view of me as a
sperm-releasing-doll made he clearly when he had me naked and on my back at the
floor before him, with my knees up to my arm-pits, hand under my neck and with
my mouth invitingly open.
He called it that he
had me parked in waiting-position.
Another
parking-position was that he let me stand in order-position,
that he loved, in hour after hour. My body felt rigid and funny and
every muscle ached after three hours in the same position. It made me long for
his used of my body for his pleasure, so I was released from parking. When he
then called me my gratitude felt no limits and neither did my efforts for his
pleasure. As long as he enjoyed me, he would not have me parked.
He could also watch TV
or read and have me kneeling slantingly to not block his TV-view. My knees must
be much parted, hands behind my neck, mouth open and tongue outstretched in my
waiting for his use of me.
My knees ached, but
worse was that my tongue and mouth went dry. When I complained he allowed me to
withdraw my tongue to moisten it and then out again.
Some time he vary it
so I had in the same stretched position put my tongue and then withdraw it and
then out again. Out and in, out and in, until he thought it was enough.
“Your tongue is a
muscle and muscles must be trained to be useful!” he meant.
An active parking was that I had to kneel
and sit with my bottom at my calves and my face in his crutch and lick him over
his scrotum and down over his sleeping cock. Lick, lick, lick and lick in
endlessness.
This so called active
parking he could vary by that I instead had to lie on my back and with my face
under him, where he sat at the front edge of the stool.
I had to raise my head
and support my upper part of my body by my elbows and from underneath lick at
his hanging scrotum. Sometimes he watched my face and directed my use of the
tongue for his pleasure.
All the
parking-postures had only one purpose, that I should wait for his use of me and
also that I must lie so my body stimulated his eyes to give signals to his
cock.
Still I loved him and
needed him for my well-being.
After that Mats had
read Anna’s diary on the net more thoroughly he also started to wake me up in
the night when he felt for it.
We were in the same
bed. I had always to sleep naked (except for a few days in month when a pair of
briefs was allowed). When he called out my name I had to run up from the bed
and stand in the order-position as it was expected from a real slave-girl. I
had to wait for him to decide how he wanted to enjoy me. As he was lazy it was
mostly I who must do the work with my mouth and he who could lie on his back
and enjoy my caressing and massaging tongue.
When he had released
himself in my mouth and the following cleaning he could just go back to sleep
and recharge for a new repetition hours later.
It sometimes woke my
strong feelings but I had to learn to reduce them and try to see it his way:
“It was only his
release that was important and then go back to sleep.”
Some times he wanted
to enter me and I had to sit over him, steer him into my vagina and do my
movements.
Often he fell into
sleep again, often during my cleaning of him but sometimes during the act. I
had to keep on the movements until he slackens out of my vagina.
One night I asked him
if I was allowed to pleasure myself. He mumbled a”Yes” and went to sleep again.
It was so humiliating
to lie in the same bed as a man and caress myself to an
half orgasm. I wanted it, but must be careful that I didn’t disturb his sleep.
Some nights, when he
woke me up and when I had taken the order-position, I saw that he was flat on
his stomach and had one leg bended at the knee. I understood that my tongue
must ticklish his back-yards and I assumed always right.
He had in a flash of
humanity decided that if he fell to sleep during the bottom-wash with my tongue
I had to count to 100 and then go back to bed, if he didn’t awoke.
I had accepted this
full-time duty for his release and then nothing more as a way of living, but
also in exchange that he took all the decision for me and I had no worries and
no irresolution. It also released warmth feelings inside of my
slave-girl-brain.
In all I get on well
with my slave-girl-role. To be slave-girl gave me so wonderful feelings inside
that I almost bought the whole package of the insensitive
sexual-releasing-duty.
Yes, something deep
inside of me was pleased by the treatment of being a sperm-sucker,
releasing-doll and sex-toy. I know that hundreds of thousands of women all over
the world lives in that role and had accepted it. Also that they seek it
themselves if they loose it.
I mostly feel happy,
perhaps that I have noticed that the slave-girl is there deep inside of me. And
that the role itself triggers and appeal to me. There could be something wrong
with me but I like the word and the content of the word sex-toy, something for a man to play with for his sexual enjoyment,
not for hers.
No, when I had some
time-distance I wondered if Mats perhaps started to become tired of me long
before I understood it. Perhaps it was for my own longing for perpetual oral
service and because he had reduced me to a sperm-releasing-doll and there was
no further development in me, for me. He
always got exactly what he wanted from me and had no need to struggle for
anything. I knew that Mats was a person who likes competing and he had none in
me.
After that he tried to
humiliate me in front of his friend but I constantly and blindly obeyed his
every order and I think that he loose his interest in me. What ever he ordered
I did without of any hesitation.
To be his
sperm-releasing-doll and sex-toy seems to speak to my own view of myself. My
only value was to be as enjoyable and as obedient slave-girl for my Master as
possible.
******* BACK TO MASTER
MICKE *******
That was way of
thinking and that experience I had with me in my luggage to my new Master. I
didn’t know if he wanted me as his sex-toy, but if he did I was prepare to be
that as well. Sometimes I wonder if men prefer this type of women, which never
had any demands on them and always are ready to release them in the way the
wanted and then back to zero, a waiting-level until the where needed next time
for the same task or another.
It was Saturday
morning and it was light out side.
- Will you arrange
breakfast? I’ll go and shower.
It was a kind
question, not an order. The slave-girl in me had preferred an order.
- Yes Master.
I answered to stress
that he was my Master and it was he who decided what I must do. It felt so
good.
I smiled for myself
when I took out the coffee packet, ZOEGAS and noticed that he had left it in
tin so it shouldn’t loose its taste, as I did myself.
- He must be a good
man, anyway a man with good taste.
I spoke to myself.
I had completely
exposed myself, handed me over to a complete stranger. My heart had guided me,
but anyway. I’m walking around in his apartment and he can anytime return from
the shower and order me to do anything he wants and I had to obey him. And I
will obey him blindly. I felt a shivering through my whole body, yes actually
down into my toes.
When he returned from
the shower had a similar silk dressing gown but now in dark green colors. My
slave-girl-eyes were on his crutch and I saw the contour of his cock in a half
erected state.
I felt sudden
disappointed, I wanted him to be turned on all the time but I forced me
thoughts to accept that the man had to rest between his arousals.
When I heard him
coming I lived into my role as slave-girl and put myself in order-position,
naked and waiting for his initiative.
- Yes Master!
I didn’t forget the
verbal submission and it felt so good.
I had spread the
little rectangular kitchen table in unpainted pinewood and with its blue
table-cloth that had its four corners pointing to every sides of the table. The
vase with its three red tulips stood beside the wall. I had to see him when we
eat and I would want to take the flowers away from the table. I love flowers,
every flower. It gives me a nice picture of life.
- Yes, we can eat
inside today but I usually eat at the balcony as long as the weather allowed
it. I rather have my outdoor clothes and sit outdoor even if it is cold.
- Master I can move it
outside if you want to.
- No, we eat inside
today, he decided firmly.
- Yes Master!
- There is cornflakes
in larder, fetch them and to plates and spoons.
I like him ordering me
around.
- Yes Master, I’m
sorry Master.
- You couldn’t have
known that I eat cornflakes in the morning. But now you do, don’t ever miss it
in the future.
- No Master, I want to
learn how you want it and I’m very eager to learn Master.
I fetched it.
- Master, do you want
me to stand and wait at the table?
He didn’t answer but
sat down at his chair and sign for me to sit down.
I obeyed of course and
we ate in silence, a silence that I didn’t like, but evidently he did and that
was the norm in his apartment. I had to adjust.
I was thinking of the
balcony the next morning and felt a subject for a question, which triggered my
slave-girl-nerve. Was I to be naked on the balcony? It also broke the terrible
silence.
- Master, may I speak?
- Yes!
- Do you want me naked
on the balcony or should I dress in some way, Master?
I asked as humble as
possible to hide any feeling of what I wanted. Truthfully I didn’t care. If he
wanted me naked I had to show my naked body to anyone who could see it. That
was his business, not mine. I felt like a real slave-girl in handling the
decision to him.
- As the balcony is in
full view from the opposite house you will wear a dressing gown, but be naked
underneath.
- Yes Master!
When he had finished
his breakfast he sat sipping his coffee and I smiled inside. I use to do the
same, save my coffee and sip at it in the meantime as I let my brain recover,
as I called it. There was more for the plus-side in my book.
- So you are my
slave-girl now. You are my property that I can do what ever I like to, nice! Really nice!
- Yes Master. I can
feel that in my body now.
- I have painted up
this scenery in my fantasy, in details. I will have you running for me, I can
promise you that.
- Thank you Master. I
promise to be very obedient, good and quick to learn. And I will be quick in my
feet as well, Master.
- You better!
He answered in English
and I knew that it meant: “If not, I had to blame myself for the consequence.”
- I promise to be
good.
- You better!
He repeated and I felt
that there was a threat in it, a thrilling and nice threat.
- Master, you have to
teach me how you want me and that am how I will be for you. If you want I can
be your sex-toy, Master.
In a way a regretted
the sex-toy-thing but it felt so thrilling to offer it. I knew the
signification for it as it had been trained into my back-bone.
- Yes, is that what
you want to be, so why not. You will be my own private sex-toy in day and night
service.
Oh no, but yes, I
thought quietly, another man who wants to be released in the nights. I had been
such a great sleeper, but Mats had trained me to be super-alert when he woke me
up in the night.
Some inner wish had me
to offer myself as a sex-toy so now there was no return. He could had my as
that anyway if he wanted, but I had suggested it and he had accepted. I deep
nerve inside of me wanted to see myself as a sex-toy. I both love and hate that
word.
Further more it was
nice to be prepared for him day and night. I had felt that way for Mats and I
would much more feel in that way for my new Master.
- Yes Master.
I answered him with a
smile on my lips and an inner longing for serve this man and let him enjoy me
as much as possible. I felt that I had absolutely no limits, as well as I
wasn’t allowed to have any limits.
- It is good.
- Master, do you want
me to suck you now?
- I think that you not
really had comprehended the role of being a slave-girl. It is your Master who
takes all initiative, but of course you must be allowed to suggest.
He corrected himself
as he spoke, another plus in my book.
- Yes Master!
I didn’t really know
how to answer him. I had just suggested it for him to enjoy me, not any
pleasure for my self, or……
- OK. I accept your
suggestion. SUCK!
I noticed again that
he used the command-word and that was nice an easy for me.
- Yes Master!
As he moved his stool
a little backwards and turned it sideway and sat as gays do, with his leg
parted, I rose and move up to him. I kneeled between his legs. His dressing
gown had slide apart and his proud cock was waiting for my treatment.
One thing was very
clear to me; I had to develop myself to not have routine in my relation with my
new Master. I believe that there is a risk that a Master loses his interest in
his slave-girl, who fill all his demands for pleasure and not have new
pleasures in store for him.
I remember how smart
the slave-girl in the story “Thousand and one night” was as she kept her
Master’s interest up night after night. I must be that smart.
A slave-girl must
renew herself and keep his interest at its absolute top. In the same time she
obeys him in all his demands and fulfill all his inventions of pleasure, she
must make him keep his interest for her as a slave-girl.
It felt very much like
balancing on a slack rope, a very slack and swinging rope. But I will manage
it!
My mouth, tongue and
lips started obediently its task. I had only to start my tongue’s caressing
movements and then it kept on going for itself.
But I tasted him also.
He tasted good. I put my soul into giving him a nice time. I wanted for him to
think that I was very enjoyable. I would rather die that he lost his interest
for me as his slave-girl and woman.
I got quickly a
receipt on that he liked my oral massage.
I think that I had him
squirt into my mouth in less than a minute. I was prepared to work 15 minutes
or more, it was not that long since his last release. Perhaps he had started to
long for my mouth in the shower.
I swallowed his sperm
and used a while to clean him with my tongue and lips. I felt for a real scrupulous and prolonged
cleaning work as a little reward for the short time. When I couldn’t prolonged
it more I looked up into his face and felt like a loyal and obedient puppy, on
my knees before him.
He had me return to my
stool and started to sip the rest of the coffee and looked meditative. I sat
quiet and waiting, it was he who took the initiative, as he told me.
Yes, I recognized it
from Mats world. His release was over and done with and back to the
everyday. That was the way men were, I
thought with a little sigh.
- Master, may I ask a
question?
I asked as humble as
it was required of a real slave-girl.
- Yes!
- Master, if you don’t
think that I’ve a sufficiently nice mouth I suggest that you send me to the Subligan’s pleasure-school, where they teach all the
techniques.
- It was good that you
suggested it, but I don’t think that they had anything to teach you. I’m more
than pleased with your fellatio-arts.
My God, so nice
praise, it streamed warming through my body. I felt sure of myself again and
happy.
- Master, if you want
me to be a real perfect slave-girl you can send me to study at Anna’s place.
She had had some courses.
I didn’t really now
why I said it. Perhaps I was embarrassed at all the praise.
- It is good that you
suggested that also, but you see I’m the type of Master that prefers to train
my slave-girl myself. In that way you will be like I want you and it also a
great part of the pleasure.
I noticed that he said
“my slave-girl” and not “my slave-girls” and that made me happy. I couldn’t
pass the fact that I was a little jealous of his earlier life, the women and
possible slave-girls, though I knew that it was not my business. He owned me
and I didn’t own him.
Even if he had had a
slave-girl before I must be the very best he had ever had. I could fight like a
tiger for that position.
It wasn’t hard. It was
only to obey and it would be divinely nice to obey him blindly. Just to do as
he ordered me and without if thinking, just acting. To think was his business,
not mine.
I couldn’t explain the
different between my obedience and another girl’s obedience. Somewhere it must
be as easy for her as for me.
It felt so miraculous
relaxing to be his slave-girl. I felt no demands or expectations; I had only in
every second do as he told me. He had clearly stressed that I may not take any
initiative, as his slave-girl, just obey. It was in line with my point of view
and it would please me to obey this directive.
Prognoses,
considerations and decisions, to not speak of every decision-anxiety was a
slave-girls always released from. He had all the responsibility.
I had a strong longing
for him to really test my obedience and its limits, if there were any. I doubt
it!
Will
be continued.
Cecilita
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