Vanilla-Xtract

In a distant part of her slave consciousness she is aware that her pussy is reacting constantly with an ache and longing and is already wet, She makes a low slow moan, closing her eyes for a brief second then refocusing she stares intently at the screen finding it hard to take her eyes of the small brass key dangling from the jumble of keys in front of her. The key to the slave’s collar is held between Master’s thumb and forefinger. It’s hard not to look, this is what connects her to Him, it’s what marks her as being owned as His property. Well, maybe not the key but the key is held by Him and is a symbol of the power and the only thing that can unlock the collar around the slave’s neck. She glances towards Master and smiles whilst at the same time her fingers imperceptibly creep to her collar and curl around it, she’s barely aware of the gesture but He is and He smiles in acknowledgment of the gesture.

“What are you slave?” His voice low and powerful – it pulls her out of her trance

“Your property Master”

“And what else, what does that mean?”

“It means, i am owned by You Master and Yours to do with as You wish” she looks into his eyes, moaning as she pauses briefly wanting desperately to touch her wet pussy “Yours to use, the collar is a representation of Your ownership, to show people that this slave is owned and is property of Master and the collar should not be removed.”

He smiles in acknowledgment “Good girl”.

Written by My slave, 10 April 2010.

///
/// © Master Zoomer
/// “The Key”
/// June 12, 2010
///

Enjoy “sustenance” also.

I could never attempt to describe how she feels about me as her Master. But as her Master I can demand that she tells me how she feels and I can insist that she do it in writing. The collar I ordered was just days away from reaching her, and I assigned her to write to me about her submission. There are many things that I know about her that she doesn’t realize for herself, and this writing assignment was to bring it all to the front of her mind, to create something that would record how she was feeling at the time.

I knew that this was what she needed to fully know how she felt inside. She needed to hear herself speak about it in her own words. She had already emotionally submitted to me in so many ways, and I knew it. The physical distance between us I refused to allow to hinder her growth or my own. The writing assignment I knew was a milestone and it was one that we could both treasure reading in the future. But it’s primary purpose was to get her to reveal to me, and in turn, herself, the feelings that she had about her position as my slave, and having me as her Master.

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It’s a necessary annoyance.  She had the steel ring in her duffel under the seat in front of her. She touched her neck mindlessly as she stared at the black bag next to her feet, as if trying to see through the canvas at her precious Turian collar. One of the saddest things to do was to remove the collar before going through airport security. She tucked it in her bag, and clutched it tightly through the turnstile and didn’t loosen her grasp until she found her seat on the plane. Now her eyes had a virtual grasp of the collar, though it was out of plain sight. Her fingers rubbed high on her shoulder where the heavy metal usually touched her neck, wrapping securely there. Annoyance, indeed.

She wouldn’t see the collar again until Los Angeles.  The trip from England was pleasant, but long. It was as if time slowed down. Please, please, how fast does this plane go? She yearned for the descent to begin, when she could count down by minutes to the moment she would see her Master for the first time. Until then, it was a countdown by hours. Hours passed like days. Pleasant, but long. She stared at the bag by her feet.

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