I am His 'good girl'

Our story begins like this...

From the moment I opened the door to first meet him, in person, I was instantly drawn to him, naturally and organically, as if I've known him for years, leaned in and gave him a kiss on the lips as if he was coming in from a long day at work.

Our chemistry was spontaneous and familiar. There was something drawing me to him, the same way something was drawing him to me. We threw ourselves into each other's passionate and intimate exchanges, kissing and grabbing and feeling each other's flesh, breathing the same hot air between our lips.

But no sooner did I find myself gracefully and without hesitation kneeling before him, in my natural submissive pose, offering my full plump lips and pink wet mouth, drooling for a taste of what was waiting for me beneath his pants.

I pulled out his heavy dark throbbing beautiful strong stalk, and all I could do was salivate for the unknown taste of his warm fresh seed in my mouth and the sensation of his protein slipping back along my tongue and forming a pool at the edge of my throat before swallowing.

I wanted him to grab me under my chin, where my throat meets my jaw line with one hand, and tangle his other hand in my hair, rendering me useless but under the control of his thrusts, leaving me with no choice other than to open my throat as wide as I could and bare the full privilege of his girth, stretching my throat wide open, over and over again. Choking and gagging until tears formed and streamed down my cheeks, smearing my mascara messily down the sides of my face.

I was determined to perform a set of skills that I was rather inexperienced with, until sloppy drool, snot and his honorary hot thick and creamy load were artfully displayed on my face and chest. At which point, I would look up at him, after cleaning his huge cock off with my mouth, in desperate search of his approval of my efforts, which I would proudly present to him, as if I were wearing his seed as a badge of honor.

The actual details however, are fuzzy. But none the less, from that day forward I became fixated on a cock that left me surrendering to its merciful poundings and craving his taste in my mouth as often as he would allow it.

He fucked me so hard that evening. With each purposeful, heavily stroked assault of his big black cock tearing thru my tight pink wetness, I felt his natural dominance. It made me feel alive to know I had a strong protector whose cock I proudly and shamelessly allowed to abuse, swell, and irritate my delicate sex for the sole purpose of marking his territory.

Being sent to work only to grimace when I sat, not finding one position to alleviate the soreness he left me with. With the discomfort and pain however, I would drip silky wet pussy juice at the thought that no man has ever penetrated me or I have never allowed a man to invade me the way that he did.

With instinctive reaction to his dominance, and having an internal need to submit and yield as a show of respect when in the presence of a strong alpha male, I found myself in a transcendent state of mind, overcoming the sharp pain of his penetration, only moments later to find myself feeling pleasure at the thought that I was pleasing him.

The pain was no longer existent, it was somewhere in the distance like background music. The deeper he went the more I winced. I was observant of his expressions, acutely aware of the change in pattern of his breathing, to the rhythm in his strokes as he drove his cock deeper and deeper into my pussy. Everything about him I was aware.

His reactions to my whimpering, yelps and utters of short sharp cries told me all I needed to know. It was apparent his pleasure increased as he prodded and stretched my little pink pussy, molding my cunt, forcefully customizing a perfect fit that only He would be occupying from now on. He possesses me as the ying to His yang.

My pain became my pleasure. His pleasure is my pleasure. I gifted to him my life, my safety, and my trust as I expanded and stretched to receive all of his dark thick girth inside me, despite my innate reaction to crawl away in attempt to alleviate the electric sting of his long shaft ramming into my cervix.

Grabbing my hips from behind and thrusting hard deep strokes...suddenly he rammed into me as hard as he could and then he paused deep inside me... holding still, his cock against my quivering sore cervix. He said,

"Don't run away from me, stay still. Don't move. This is my pussy."

That explosion of emotional and sexual chemistry, which overcame us, was followed by a gut instinct to submit fully to this man I had just met.

I relaxed my body so I could accommodate his oversized manhood that would indefinitely change the way I would take cock from that point on.

He sent chills running through my body as he proclaimed his possession of me.

"This is my pussy. Do you hear me?"

Filled with delight to know I was worthy of his attention in that capacity. I responded,

"Yes, yes this is your pussy!"

***

Recognizing his natural authoritarian persona, later that week I expressed my desire towards BDSM and my inert instinct to submit to a true Dominant. My submission comes easily. Pleasing him, knowing I am his greatest treasure, knowing he cherished me like a rare gem, his prized diamond, increased my desire to serve him. To always improve and give the best of me to him, always.

I cater to Him. He does not need to ask politely, He does not need to ask at all. He states His needs and I obediently make sure I do my absolute best that they are met.

He is pleased with me, I am His 'good girl'. His little one. His precious. His favorite thing in the whole world.

My Mr. Shep is patient, calm, caring, and above all very firm. He takes on great responsibility ensuring that my best interests are met. In his presence he owns my life. He makes all decisions, determines when, where and how. And I never ask why because I trust him fully.

He has two names. When I'm a 'good girl' I am to refer to him as Mr. Shep, when I lack the discipline to please him satisfactorily I am only to refer to him as Master. My title of 'good girl' is removed from me and Master reduces my title of prestige and names me whore or slut, or whatever he feels is appropriate under the circumstances of disappointment.

He corrects me not out of anger but out of love. Master's corrective measures are put in place only to help me grow and improve so I can become the best version of myself for ONLY him. He is the center of my universe. Everything I do daily in my life, all decisions that I must make on my own, when he is not in my presence are, made with consideration to his approval and satisfaction. He is with me everywhere I go.

His punishments are fair and reasonable. I accept them and take pleasure in knowing that it pleases him to see me try so hard to ensure he is pleased with me again, because nothing makes him more happy than to always have me as his 'good girl'.

My lack of discipline, as of late, when I address him has been an issue. I have a bad habit of unintentionally disrespecting him by forgetting to always address him as Mr. Shep when ever I respond to him.

He has set forth definitive rules and expectations of me that are to be met to ensure his pleasure with me is consistent.

His number #1 rule is to always refer to him as Mr. Shep whenever I address or respond to him.

In the throws of passion, my discipline slips and I forget to do so, and he is beside himself with disappointment that such a simple command is not strictly adhered to. He says it hurts that I am so carelessly disrespectful to our relationship.

"My typical corrective measures are obviously not helping to improve you. That is my fault, not yours. Your discipline reflects upon my failure to train you properly. Your punishment will be more severe next time and will be designed to improve your discipline and respect towards me and this household," He explained.

My new role until I earn it back, is a basic slave... knowing I need to earn my way back into his good graces, I took his cue that it was time for my re-training to begin.

I thought ahead with ideas of what I could do to please him before receiving my punishment in attempt to soften the severity of his will.

I quietly, without waiting for his directives, opened our bedroom door and softly closed it behind me. I stripped naked and changed into my blood red corset that he bought me the week prior, and I slowly knelt by the edge of our bed, positioning my legs closed together, with my feet tucked tightly under my ass. My hands were displayed upon my thighs and I kept my gaze on the floor. This is my most vulnerable and intimate pose that I am so honored and proud to present to him. It's my most humble expression of respect, reverence, and submission to his loving dominance.

To my surprise however, when Master came in the room 30 minutes later to find me kneeling and waiting silently for his arrival, he was the opposite of pleased finding me where Master himself did not place me.

Master shook his head at me, standing not more than an inch from my knees, he stood over me. My Master's authority and dominance was a silent disappointment which sent my heart sinking into my stomach. I thought I was doing good. I thought my beautiful offering of kneeling submission would be a pleasant welcome for Master as he entered our room.

I said nothing. Keeping my eyes to the ground. After all I knew I was in hotter water now and inside I trembled.

Master leaned down, lifted my chin to look him in the eyes, and said very calmly,

"You're thinking too much, and that's not your job."

Then Master took his left hand and wrapped it around my neck as he just stared deeply into my eyes. I could feel his grasp tightening, slowly reducing my air way to a gasp. I could feel the burning in my eyes and temples from the lack of oxygen.

Tears began to pool in my eyes and slowly roll down my face leaving a trail of bare flesh where my foundation and powder had been freshly set.

"My burden and my responsibility is to make decisions for you. Only I know what is best for you, therefore you are relieved of free will and all decision making when we are together. You disappoint me deeply. You obviously don't respect me."

Then he spit in my face and smeared it. I remained stoic and unaffected.

After all I am a possession of my Master and my desire is to be his desire and I am his to do with as Master pleases.

With his hand still around my throat he skillfully fisted a ball of my hair rigidly and then finally let go of my throat.

Master pulled me along firmly by my hair, making me crawl as he guided me and placed me face and shoulders down on the floor, knees together with my ass and pussy to the sky.

Master took my hands and placed them behind my back. He grabbed the hand-cuffs from my panty drawer and locked my wrists so tight that if I squirmed the metal would cut into my skin.

I listened attentively to make out what Master might be doing to prepare for my corrective training... anxiety set in not knowing what to expect... all I knew is that I wanted to make Master happy. So I focused on that goal to calm my mind.

My Master approached, and I could feel his presence standing over me, his breathing changed to a pattern that was unfamiliar to me. Which frightened me slightly, the anxiety and anticipation overcame me. I felt beads of sweat start to form around my hairline and a flash of hotness, caused from stress, course through my body that made me feel like I was set on fire.

Master spoke: "Only 'good girls' get to wear pretty things, whores only get a hair tie."

...and then Master harshly disrobed me from My beautiful red corset and threw a hair tie in front of me, knowing damn well I wouldn't be able to place it in my hair because my hands were cuffed behind me.

Master grabbed me by the neck to help me stand up. He turned me around. Bent me slightly and squeezed my ass cheek so hard I could feel his nails cut into my skin.

I remained silent and still.

Master then pushed me down by my shoulders and made me crawl to the bench by our bed. He placed me belly down over the bench with my legs and arms sprawled hanging to either side of the bench... Master then proceeded to cuff my arms to the front legs of the bench, then used rope to tie my ankles to the back legs of the bench... I was completely exposed and could not move. My pussy and asshole spread wide open and propped up, to be so vulnerable and exposed was embarrassing. But the art of it was so beautiful. He is a true artist and always carries himself and his actions with decisive purpose. He can take any blank canvas and turn it into a masterpiece. I fully intend on one day becoming that purposeful masterpiece. I truly believe I will obtain such stature in his world by obediently submitting to his continued and evolving training he so thoughtfully provides to me. I am His blank canvas, I am His to create in his vision.

For a brief moment between all of the emotions I was overcome with, I felt like a priceless piece of art up for display that no one could afford but Him.

Master hit me hard across the ass with his bare open hand. I felt the radiating sting, from his slap, for what felt like several minutes. Master has spanked me before but it really never caused me real pain as the spankings were all for maintenance (after all I am a good girl) and he had not yet felt I was ready to have my limits pushed. His training of me constantly evolves.

Master reached down into his box and pulled out a belt... Master has not yet used any implements to punish me, this would be a first.

Master then began striking me, firmly at first, but more intensely with each strike.

Master then made me count out 10 more strikes. Then instructed me to say "thank you Master" after each one.

"1 thank you master... 2 thank you master... and so on until we were at ten."

He abruptly stopped... leaving my ass covered in purple welts and walked around kneeling so that my eyes could make contact with his. Master spoke eerily soft but very stern, which forced a rush of tingling and euphoria throughout my body. I became so dripping wet in a matter of seconds. He already had me creaming without even touching me.

Master said,

"I believe in you, I know you can rise to the occasion to please me."

I wasn't sure what the context of his statement was? Were those words of encouragement, or a motivational pep talk? What was he planning next?

Master walked behind me, I heard him take his clothes off, his pants and belt drop to the floor. He then laid over me with his chest to my back, sweeping my hair away from my face and ear.

"I'm going to fuck you in your ass, it will hurt! But you will get used to it and you will please me." Master whispered rigidly.

My body twitched and I felt my ass tighten, we have tried anal before but I could not handle the heavy girth of his cock it felt like he was ripping me open from the inside out. The burning pain that I felt before refusing the rest of his entry into my ass, was very hard to forget.

He moved to the other side of my face and whispered in my other ear,

"Do you want to please me?"

I said, "Yes Master I do, but I'm..."

He yanked me by the hair so hard it pulled a muscle in my neck.

"But what? Pleasing me is unconditional, it's your duty, your privilege, your life."

"Yes Master," I said, as I lowered my head with humility.

I responded directly just so he would release my hair so I could rest my neck.

My anxiety now in full throttle, my stomach fluttering in fear of the pain he was about to cause me.

But he knows me well, he knows my needs. He knows I need to hear his directives often to remain in subspace, that euphoric state of void and pleasure. That space only He can send me to. In this space is where I become his blank canvas, His empty shell to mold and train to perfection.

Master spoke out of consideration for my needs, even when upset with me, He puts my needs at the forefront.

"You will be fucked in your ass, you will calm your mind and body, relax your asshole and make it open for me. You will be sure to thank me for it before your pain becomes pleasure."

He spit on my asshole and rubbed it in and then he commanded me to, "Open up."

My body responded instantaneously to his directive.

"Don't move."

My heart was racing the moment I felt the tip of his thick black cock touch the opening of my asshole.

He wasted no time, sliding the first part of himself carefully and gently into me, I bit down on the cushion of the bench, knowing there was no way for me to move away from him if it hurt too much.

"You're tightening back up," Master said, as he gripped my hips firmly to bring me back into focus.

Then he spanked me very hard causing my ass to tighten even more and provoking an unrelenting squeal from my mouth.

With his grip on my hips so tight pinning me against the bench, I couldn't move if I tried.

"Open up that asshole, this is my asshole not yours, you will please me by opening up and taking all of me inside of you," He directed.

Master was merciful and paused momentarily, allowing my body to respond to his commands.

Master's words melt me, taking me into subspace, where my submission is ultimate and unconditional.

Master proceeded to enter me slowly. The sharp unbearable pain subsides as he slipped further into me. He planted himself and again instructed me to open up. Being cognizant of my need to verbally hear his commands, he took me with him through the experience by keeping me mentally focused and stimulated. He has trained me to understand and accept that pain is mind over matter.

There it was. He now owned every inch of every hole I have to offer him. His strokes in my asshole were firm and deep. At one point I began to cry, the pain was confusing because moments after my emotional release I felt the rush of pleasure flow in.

And in that very moment, I remembered his directive to thank him before the pleasure set in.

"Thank you Master, your huge black cock fills my ass to complete fullness, I am so grateful for your correction and new limits you help me to embrace."

Master felt my entire body submit and go limp from its tense state of anxiety. Master spanked me between strokes once he was certain I had reached that level of pleasure, reminding me of how to address him at all times. His lectures are those to be admired, so full of wisdom and guidance.

Master pulled out of me... he un-cuffed me and gently assisted me to my feet. Holding my shoulders and checking my condition, just like a parent concerned for their child when they trip and scrape their knee. When he determined I was fit for duty he chivalrously escorted me to the west wall of our room.

Silently, Master placed both my hands above me against the wall. I could hear his deep focused breathing as he reached around me, he quickly pulled my hips back and kicked at my feet until they were spread far enough apart for him to stand between them.

Master spoke,

"Open up, round 2."

But this time, Master wrapped his hand in a fistful of my hair and then forced himself inside me quickly. I yelped from the quick sharp bite of pain and bit my lip so hard I could taste blood.

But Master told me to remain silent and not to make a sound. He said if I did he would thrust hard and deep, he was testing my devotion, respect and submission to him. Challenging me to control my instinctual reactions. Training me to be mentally strong.

Master then yanked his cock out so fast that my asshole quivered in shock. It took every ounce of my core being not to make a sound. He quickly pounded my pussy and then yanked his cock out quickly again.