tagBDSMQuestions for the Goddess

Questions for the Goddess

bycolleenslittletoy©

It began with a little more groveling than usual. I was on my knees, of course, at her feet, serving her as a slave. To her amusement, my effort to try to live without her rule had been a disaster. It was not possible. The truth had been proven again: Once her slave, always her slave. I was hooked forever.

It had been a long time since I had kissed her imperial feet, but nothing had changed. No matter what happened in life, what obstacles were thrown in the way, when it came down to it, I could not resist her alluring draw. She had what I needed and she knew it.

The offer was in front of her. I longed to return to my status as her ass-licking slave, ready to do whatever she wanted and anything she commanded.

After much begging on my part, I was back at the place I belonged, between the long lovely legs of my Goddess, lying on my stomach, my arms circling her thighs. Her delectable, irresistible pussy was inches from my yearning tongue.

There was no doubt any more. I needed her more than anything on earth. To worship her was the only thing that gave me meaning.

I wanted... I needed to surrender to her beauty, to her superiority.

I needed to be her slave.

Before I began my pleasant task, there were some questions that had been haunting me for years. I took the chance she was in a playful mood.

"You once told me Jim was the pleasing kind," I said, licking the smooth skin on the inside of her thigh, remembering a casual statement she threw out one day, mentioning a former lover.

"You said he was the sort of guy who liked going down on you." I glanced up. She nodded. "Did he enjoy pleasing you as much as making love with you?"

Using the words 'making love' twisted at my heart. If the Goddess made love to someone it meant she had feelings for him, that it wasn't just sex. It was one thing to acknowledge she had sex with other men, but to realize she was intimate with others brought nothing but pain.

Jim was a guy who bothered me more than many of her other lovers. Most of her studs were big, strong, masculine, black and virile. I could understand why she chose them over me, but Jim was small of stature, skinny, white and younger. Of all the men in her life, I believed, I should rank higher than this scrawny guy.

"He enjoyed licking me," she answered, "like I said, he was the pleasing kind, but he wasn't like you." She chuckled. We both knew the chuckle meant no one was exactly like me. Unfortunately, my uniqueness had nothing to do with complimentary attributes.

"He always expected to finish inside," she smiled. "He wanted to get his turn, you know, a good fuck."

None of her men were like me, if I could even call myself a man anymore. Memories of shopping trips came to mind. Gifts were purchased just so I could earn the pleasure of licking her to an orgasm. There was never any thought of my own fulfillment. In truth, because of her training, her pleasure was my fulfillment. Her physical orgasm became a mental one for me. I was so conditioned to be a good slave there was no way I could find satisfaction without pleasing her first.

The realization led me to the thought: Had anyone of her other men been satisfied with her orgasm only? Had anyone else worshipped at her shrine with no hope of reciprocation?

Maybe little Jim was on my level.

"Was he as good at licking you as I am?" There was a pause. Images of her black studs came to mind. "I know your black lovers have real cocks and they are bigger and better than I am." The humiliation of that fact had been burned into my psyche for years. "And I accept I don't compare in the size and endurance category to your studs, but I always thought my tongue was pretty good." With the tenderness of true devotion, I licked her folds for emphasis.

As she spoke, I looked up. She wore a condescending smile. "You're not too bad... sometimes." I waited. "But Jim was better," she said candidly. "Much better."

A dreamy look came over her face. "He had a sort of youthful enthusiasm combined with innocent adoration. It was very exhilarating. Even if I just climaxed, his devotion always seemed to coax another out of me." She looked down at me with pity. "With you, it's more of an ordeal." She patted my head like I was a pet. "Although you too are devoted to my pussy," she chuckled, "you're kind of ordinary, sort of tedious. With my lovers," she accented the word, "it's more than just a good tongue." She made me look up. "There's something to look forward to afterwards." She smiled. "A pussy, especially one as precious as mine, needs a good cock, a real one."

She patted my head again. "Of course, with you, that's not an option. With you, there's nothing to look forward to. So, when you're down there, I'm anxious to get it over with so I can move on to something more interesting, like do my nails."

Her words seared my soul. A groan emerged. My little guy was getting the verbal punishment that caused him so much pleasure.

Trying to restrain the electrifying emotions coursing through me, I hesitated to ask the next part of the question. At one time, long ago, after I pleased her with my tongue, the Goddess allowed me inside, granting me moments of exquisite ecstasy as I pummeled her glorious pussy until I achieved orgasm. Those days were gone. It had been a long, long time since I had been allowed inside her perfect shrine. As her slave, I didn't deserve the honor. Too much of a waste of time, she said.

"Did you let Jim inside after he licked you?" My heart ached. I was afraid of her answer, yet I was so turned on I was ready to burst. "Did he get the awesome privilege of penetrating you after he used his tongue on your beautiful pussy?"

The need to know overwhelmed all caution. Accepting her black studs as superior was one thing. Recognizing their huge, rugged cocks was more exciting than my little thing was apparent after watching them service her. Naturally, I was envious of their masterful weapons and the way she lusted after them. That she preferred her black studs became an integral part of our relationship. Their size, endurance, skill and desirability pushed them to the head of a list that I was not even on.

Accepting my inferiority, even insignificance, to their massive appendages was only natural.

But acknowledging that Jim rated above me was different. To discover that this scrawny little white guy might have been granted the supreme gift of her beloved pussy would be the final indignation. Knowing he was allowed inside would crush what was left of my poor ego. Being beneath the Alpha males was one thing. Being beneath him would be mortifying.

Knowing she preferred him over me would be the ultimate humiliation.

It would mean that he, even he, was better than me.

"Of course I did," she replied. My heart sank with jealousy, yet my little guy throbbed like he never had before.

Waves of masochistic lust washed through my veins and threatened to overwhelm me.

"He was so eager to make love to me. I know I said he was the pleasing type, but once he was done licking, he couldn't help jumping right up and putting his cock in me. He never asked; he just did it." She patted my head again. "That's the way men are."

She looked at me with pity. "I don't think I could have stopped him if I tried. And frankly, I didn't want to stop him. He wasn't like you. I enjoyed making love with him. He was so enthusiastic that it was very pleasurable." Her look was condescending. "I like to give my men pleasure." She had a sort of dreamy look on her face. "Actually, for a white guy, he had a decent-sized cock."

A flash of raw heat seared through me. It was born of equal doses of masochism and submission. Did Jim have a bigger cock than mine? I was too embarrassed to ask.

In the end though, it seemed that even Jim proved to be more of a man than I was.

My little guy strained in my pants. The notion I was even beneath Jim, the one guy I always thought I was better than, was so humbling I felt like bowing before him. It was like her telling me she would rather fuck the local nerd than me, a question I was unwilling to ask.

"Like I said, for a white guy, he was pretty good, not a waste like you and your pathetic little thingy."

Jealousy drove the arrow of excitement through me.

"He was a good fuck?"

"Actually, it wasn't a fuck, not in the sense that Roger or Tony fuck me, in their animalistic way. Jim was tender, sweet. He made love to me. I felt his need to love me in his every action." She smiled down at me. "He wasn't like my studs, but for a white guy he was pretty good. He had such energy. He wasn't boring, like you turned out to be."

"Where would you put him on the list?" At one time, I asked her to rate her lovers. To my shame, I didn't even make the roster. The top section was dominated by the black guys she knew.

"After my studs," a reference to her black lovers, "I would rank him up there with the hippie in college, and maybe Joe, the quarterback. Possibly a guy in high school would be up there, too."

Another arrow of jealousy pierced my heart. Once, I viewed the quarterback as my arch-rival, believing he was the guy I had to beat to win the Goddess. "Joe was better than me, too?" I croaked out.

She frowned, as if the question was so absurd it didn't need an answer. "Of course. A big football player like him? Naturally, he knew how to fuck. He had a pretty good size cock, for a white guy, not some pencil-dick like yours. And he had a rather nice body, muscular and strong, not flabby and wimpy."

Another wave of masochistic lust flowed through my veins. Implied in her description was that I was the flabby and wimpy one. At that moment, if she instructed me to cum, I would have burst in a second. While perverted thoughts fueled the flames of my desire I went on to another question that had plaguing me for years.

"When we were in Hawaii, that time we stayed at your friends, while I slept on the couch and Miguel crept into bed with you, did he do it?"

"Do what?" There was an evil smile on her face.

"It was a terrible night for me. All night I kept imaging things." I still do.

"Oh, like what?"

"I know how you sleep, on your side, with your gorgeous ass so available. I kept thinking he would scoot next to it, lift your nightgown and ...slip inside you."

"That would be a natural thing for any man to do, wouldn't it?"

I gulped. "Did he?"

"Did he what?"

"Did he fuck you while I was in the other room?"

"If it makes you feel any better, I did tell him to be quiet about it." She pinched my ear. "In those days, before I knew how perverted you are, I was considerate of your feelings, so I didn't want you to hear us. Of course, knowing what I know now, I should have made you come into the room and watch, and then clean us afterwards. That would have been so funny, seeing you on your knees and making you serve Miguel."

A moan emerged from somewhere deep in my soul.

"If I remember right, once he was in, he kept pawing at my breasts while he pounded away. He was a lot more brutal than I expected, kind of rough. It was kind of nice after putting up with your meek ways for weeks." She smiled. "I always like to do it with a man."

Another wave of masochistic lust washed through my veins. She didn't say another man. She said a man.

Out of breath, I went on.

"Did you do it with him before that night?"

She laughed. "Why do you think he kissed me that time he came into our room?"

Cuckolded first by Jim, now Miguel. Once, I thought I was better than both of them. Was there no end to my debasement?

Like a fool, I went on.

"I know you like to use your mouth on your black studs." The image of her luscious lips around one of those huge cocks drove me wild. Many nights I visualize how she sucks, how she licks, how she kisses.

"Yes, I did. Still do."

I gulped. "Did you ever go down on any white guys?" I always wondered if black cocks were the only ones to receive her oral talents. Even at the beginning of our relationship she seldom, if ever, went down on me, and never swallowed. Obviously, she wouldn't even consider it now.

She chuckled. "A few. It's been my experience that white guys are more willing to go down on me. Black guys are different. Most of my black studs want me to go down on them. But it's no problem. Naturally, when I spot a huge cock, I want to taste it."

Again, I felt the pangs of the abasing words. Almost afraid to know, I asked any way. "Did you go down on Jim? Or Joe the quarterback? Or Miguel?"

She smiled. "Of course, I did. I take care of my men. Actually, like I said, Jim had a rather nice cock. So did Joe."

My throat felt dry. Both arch-rivals were granted a gift I never got. I dared not ask about Miguel.

While absorbing the latest blow, I thought of something else. From the moment I met her, I was obsessed with the Goddess's glorious ass. There were very few hours where it did not captivate my every thought. Life had changed forever during the vacation she rolled over and allowed me to worship her there. From that moment on, I was totally under her spell.

I lived to lick her pussy, but her ass owned me.

"You once told me that only Tony and that kinky guy were allowed," I didn't want to say fuck, "access to your perfect ass."

"Are you asking if they were the only ones who got to fuck my ass? The ass that you worship, the ass that owns you, the ass that you only get to know with your little tongue and never with your pathetic and tiny cock?"

"Yes," I croaked. My little soldier was leaking from the gross belittlement. "Was there anyone else? Did anyone else get to fuck your perfect, gorgeous ass?"

"Do you have anyone in mind?" Her words taunted me. Despite the blow it would be to my pride, I had to know.

"Roger must have gotten access, you guys did it enough. And Clarence," I croaked. The guy who kicked me out of her bed. The stud that got to do all the things I always dreamed of but never got to experience.

She smiled. It was a wicked, knowing smile. "How intuitive. Of course they did. More than once. Like my other studs, they loved it."

A groan escaped my throat and I almost shot a load in my pants. "Anyone else?"

"Are you asking about white guys again? You want to know how far down on the list you are? How far below the white guys?"

"Yes." The word came out as a groan.

"If I tell you that one of them was allowed to fuck my ass, say someone like Jim, how would that make you feel?"

"Terrible," I admitted. "Jealous. Undeserving."

Her eyes probed mine. "What else?"

"It would haunt my dreams for months. It would turn me on so much that I would masturbate night after night thinking about it."

"Can you picture Jim doing it?"

Groaning, I responded. "Yes."

"How about Joe?"

"Yes."

"Good, because they both did, as well as my hippie boyfriend. You would have been surprised at Jim. He seemed so inexperienced, but actually, he knew what he was doing." She smiled as she recalled her experience with her former lover. "Did you know he was so enchanted with me that he wanted to marry me?"

The humiliation was building so much I thought I would shoot across the room.

Despite the intense degradation I went on. The next question might change everything. It was almost too embarrassing to ask.

During one of her tales, the Goddess said she told Liz, her best friend, all about the debasing things I did as her slave, including licking her studs cum out of her nasty pussy. Sometimes, in the stories, the next step involved getting the juices directly from the source. The Goddess said Liz asked if I ever gave one of her studs a blow job. The only response I offered was a groan.

"Do you remember the time you told me while you were in college that Debby's boyfriend, the big basketball player, walked in on you while you were still in bed, showing you his member and asking if you wanted it?"

"Of course I remember. One does not forget such things. It isn't often one is exposed to such a gigantic dick."

"Was he big?"

"Very. Probably seven or eight times bigger than your little toy."

"How did you resist?"

She laughed. "Well, for one, I had my fill of Roger the night before so I was fairly satisfied, and of course, he was Debby's boyfriend. There were enough men for me. I didn't need him."

My face turning red, I went on. "There were times I spent the night at your apartment. What if you had left for class and I had been the one there when he walked in with his huge cock?"

"What do you mean?"

I swallowed hard. "You were able to resist his huge cock, but what if he offered it to me? What do you think would have happened?"

She laughed. "Are you asking me if he would have made you his bitch?" My face reddened. "With your oral skills, you certainly have the mouth for it." She looked at me with a serious mien on her face. "Yes, I think he would have made you his bitch and when he bragged about it later I would have heard. I probably would have told you to get lost. It might have saved a lot of wasted time." She was referring to the years we were married.

After the embarrassment wore off I continued probing.

"Remember the time you granted me a session as long I bought you lots of clothes?" That didn't narrow it down. After she divorced me the only way I could get her to let me worship her was to spend lots of money on her.

"That has been the condition of all our encounters, so I'm not sure which one you mean."

"It was the time you said you put off a meeting with you current lover, Tony."

She nodded. "It was a difficult decision, a good fuck or a pussy lick. It turned out my stud husband gave a great performance that night and I needed a new fall wardrobe so I went with you."

Of course I was delighted by the news but took another step in our relationship.

"Remember, how I called back, told you that I had an idea where you could satisfy both needs? I knew you really wanted to be with Tony and instead of wasting the morning with just a slave encounter you could have the best of both worlds?"

"Yes, I remember."

I had thought about her sacrifice all night. The situation didn't seem appropriate. As much as I craved the taste of her luscious body, she deserved more. Finally, it dawned on me what I should do.

"Remember how I called back and said I shouldn't be the one you were with? That I didn't deserve the honor. I said you shouldn't waste your precious time on a lowly slave when you could be getting the fuck you wanted?"

"Yes, you came up with the perfect solution, one that satisfied everyone."

I nodded again. "I said that you really didn't want to be with me, you wanted his awesome cock. You wanted his ability to please you. I told you that you didn't want me and my meager attempts to worship you."

Patting my head, she said, "Sometimes you're not as stupid as you look."

"I said it was my duty as your slave to sacrifice my precious time at your shrines to my superior, to the one you really wanted to be with. I told you I knew what you really wanted was to spend the morning with him. At first you didn't understand what I was getting at.

"No, I wasn't prepared for you to go that low. Even after all we had done I believed you still retained some measure of self-respect. Obviously, I was wrong."

My face reddened. I was humiliated, but went on. "I suggested you spend the morning with him then come to me."

She nodded and patted my head again. I almost purred. "You wanted me to come to you with my pussy full of his cum."

The thought of cleaning her precious pussy after a fuck with one of her studs caused me to jack off night after night even though, or maybe because, the depraved act would forever reestablish our relationship, as if it would ever be anything but one-sided.

"You agreed, calling him and giving him the good news." Thinking at the time, it would have been even more delicious if she had made me call him.

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