Cock-Hungry Bitch

I am a submissive. My service -- my joy in life -- requires Sir, the Dominant who assumed responsibility for my training and development in submission a few months (and yet a lifetime) ago. I have difficulty remembering life before Sir, despite the fact that life included more than 50 years. Sir dominates not just my actions, but my thinking, my life and my dreams. One benefit of my growth in submission is that it nearly is impossible to remember the many long, dark years without Sir, years in which I had no outlet for the submission I now recognize is an integral part of my personality.

I not only submit to and serve, but love Sir. I delight in Sir's wry wit, I enjoy learning Sir's likes and interests, and I crave the attention only Sir can give. I love to watch Sir, to see the play of emotions in Sir's eyes and across Sir's face. I delight in trailing my fingers lightly across Sir's torso, whilst I try to memorize the smell and texture of Sir's skin. My service to Sir has many dimensions, from presenting myself on all fours and eating from a pet dish at Sir's feet whilst Sir consumes the gourmet meal I've cooked, to sharing a meal in a restaurant and learning about Sir's day at work.

I am a submissive whose service and submission to Sir keeps her cunt wet, her nipples erect, her clitoris thrusting out and excited by the mere passage of air across it as it is framed by crotchless, jet black pantyhose. Sexuality always has been part of my life. In the past, my sexuality lay dormant, erupting into need and extinguished by orgasm. Now my sexuality constantly simmers, seconds away from a roiling orgasmic boil at the hands or instructions of Sir. My sexuality is expressed by my need to kneel before Sir, after removing Sir's clothing, and burying Sir's cock as far as possible down my throat. I need to feel the head of Sir's cock pressing my throat closed - pushing the limit of breath control as my body says, "Swallow so you can breathe before you die," whilst my brain, despite knowing my mouth cannot swallow Sir's cock, doesn't want to recognize any need other than that of having Sir's cock in my mouth and throat.

Sir's cock enters my mouth slowly, pushing through suction, moving deep into my throat. My nose - my entire face - presses deep into Sir's groin, tickled by Sir's pubic hair. As Sir's cock enters my throat, my tongue lashes down, flicking the area behind the head of Sir's cock before sliding down its length to move outside my lips to lightly lick Sir's balls. When my need for oxygen requires me to move my head and breathe, I do so very slowly. I suck from the base of Sir's cock until only the head remains just inside my mouth, right behind my teeth, from which Sir's cock is protected. My mouth speaks, sings, eats, laughs - none of that is as important as providing a warm, wet, receptacle for Sir's cock. The cock commands my attention. It stretches my imagination and feeds my need. It provides me with warm, thick cum, and centers my service in ways unknown and untried before Sir agreed to accept my service and train me in submission.

For me, a submissive fortunate to have found a Dominant, "home" is on my knees, my mouth and throat filled with Sir's cock, and my ass being stroked repeatedly, forcefully and consistently with a cat-o-nine-tails or belt in Sir's hand, driven by Sir's strong arm. Sir's strokes give me pain that floods my cunt with juice, relaxing my throat even more, sucking Sir's cock further into me. "Home" is where I realize my potential as a cock-hungry bitch. It is where every breath, motion and thought are dedicated to serving Sir, to bringing Sir pleasure through the unflagging attention and love lavished on Sir's cock. I am not just Sir's cock-hungry bitch -- I am Sir's PROUD cock-hungry bitch. The cock I crave is Sir's; the cum I long to suck and swallow is Sir's; I am Sir's. My service to Sir defines who I am, what I am and where I am. When Sir's cock is too far away for me to present myself to serve Sir's cock with my mouth and throat, I am mindful of Sir's cock and its claim on my service. This keeps me ready and willing and hungry for the opportunity to service Sir's cock again.

Because Sir is a complex, intelligent and interesting man, and because I am a complex, intelligent and interested woman, my desire to share with Sir never will be limited solely to the service I can lavish upon Sir's cock with my mouth. Yet, as much as I enjoy hearing about Sir's work day, Sir's childhood, Sir's hobbies and activities, the desire for Sir's cock in my mouth and throat is omnipresent. I love watching Sir's face, observing the play of emotions and interest through Sir's eyes. But, as true as that love is, another part of my attention, my interest and my being focuses solely on desiring and lusting after Sir's cock.

Sir's voice on the telephone or Sir's words in e-mail or an instant message trigger the image of receiving the honor and privilege kneeling in total submission between Sir's legs, with Sir's cock in my throat. The image of receiving the nourishment of Sir's ejaculate ignites my lust, flooding my cunt with juice. Even when Sir is far away, I can feel Sir's cock jetting cum down the back of my throat, and then withdrawing to deposit the remainder of Sir's seed in my mouth and on my tongue. When Sir's cock has finished its ejaculation, I move away from Sir's cock, opening my mouth so Sir may inspect Sir's ejaculate, and await Sir's instruction and permission to swallow the truly perfect food that feeds my service and submission to Sir. This cock-hungry bitch savors Sir's seed on her tongue as it coats the interior of her mouth. Once Sir inspects the seed in my mouth, and grants me permission, I allow it to slide down my throat, holding the feel and taste in my mouth to imprint even more of Sir there.

Sir's ejaculate tastes like Sir's scent - clean, somewhat sweet, and a bit medicinal. Memories of the wiry tickle of Sir's cock hair against my nose wash over me, fueling the desire that never wanes, the lust that is not eased, and the yearning for the completion I only feel when I am fully at home, fully myself - Sir's cock-hungry bitch. The emotions that charge each moment when I have the honor and privilege of kneeling before Sir, servicing Sir and Sir's cock, imprint the sensations of the service I render, inciting my desire and coloring my dreams when distance prevents me from being in Sir's physical presence.

Yet even the vivid recollection of each time I have had the honor and privilege of serving Sir and taking Sir's cock into my body, even as Sir's cum fills my mouth, the cock-hungry bitch knows her desperate hunger for Sir's cock remains and her thirst for Sir's cum never is slaked. The cock-hungry bitch knows what she desires; she knows there is only one cock that satisfies her yearning. The cock-hungry bitch knows that she has no control over whether she will receive the gift of prostrating herself before the owner of that cock, who also owns her service and submission. The cock-hungry bitch knows that, if allowed, she will kneel at Sir's feet, begging for Sir's permission to take Sir's cock into her mouth, servicing the cock that belongs to the owner of all her service, feeding a hunger that never abates, but grows the more it feeds.