"When you said that I was nothing without you? Did you mean that?," I asked quietly before we went to bed. Of all of the terrible thing He said to me, somehow that was sticking with me the most.
"Kitten, you know that not everything I say to you during a scene is 100% accurate. Sometimes I say things to humiliate you, or to break you down, or to show you your place. But I don't always mean everything," he explained.
"So...did you mean that? Do you really think that I'm nothing without you?"
"I think that you'd be incomplete without me. I think that you'd be a cold, lost little Kitten without me. But I don't think you'd be nothing. You were something when I met you," he said, and he smiled.
Showing posts with label degradation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label degradation. Show all posts
Mine
I was kneeling before Him in the living room, working his cock slowly in my mouth. I was focusing very intently on him and only him, his pleasure, his little moans. As I serviced him, he started pulling on my hair and pushing my face down onto his cock more roughly. He was getting more excited and his mean streak was coming out. I could see it behind his eyes.
"You had better keep that up because you're going to work on my cock all night."
I looked up at him through my hair with a surprised look in my eyes.
"Oh, don't worry. I'll feed you dinner. But after that, you're going to be right back on your knees. You think you eat for free around here? You have to find a way to earn your keep, you know."
I looked down, ashamed. His words echoed in my ears: "earn your keep." I tried to push the thoughts out of my mind and focus on the task at hand, but he was not done.
"You are such a little whore. Look how much you love doing that." I continued, sure that if I showed how his words affected me, he would only taunt me further. He pulled me up on his lap and had me fuck him. He didn't seem to care if I came. He was using my body for his pleasure only.
He pulled me close and tugged on the hair at the nape of my neck. He growled in my ear: "I knew what a kind of girl you were from the moment I saw you."
Foolishly, I asked, "What kind of girl am I?" I don't know why I asked this. I knew what kind of mood he was in. I knew what he would say. But there was a part of me that wondered what kind of girl I was then and what kind of girl I have become, and whether I could bear to see how he saw me. Whether I could bear the changes.
"A dirty girl. I knew you were a dirty little girl from the moment I met you." I shook my head, tried to deny it. "I knew you would let me fuck you as soon as I wanted. I knew you would let me do all of these things to you."
"No...," I protested weakly. He just held me tight to him as he bounced me up and down on his cock, faster and faster. He was hurting my neck with the force he was using to pull my hair.
Right before he came, he hissed in my ear: "I know I would own you and that I'd make you my whore. I always knew."
"You had better keep that up because you're going to work on my cock all night."
I looked up at him through my hair with a surprised look in my eyes.
"Oh, don't worry. I'll feed you dinner. But after that, you're going to be right back on your knees. You think you eat for free around here? You have to find a way to earn your keep, you know."
I looked down, ashamed. His words echoed in my ears: "earn your keep." I tried to push the thoughts out of my mind and focus on the task at hand, but he was not done.
"You are such a little whore. Look how much you love doing that." I continued, sure that if I showed how his words affected me, he would only taunt me further. He pulled me up on his lap and had me fuck him. He didn't seem to care if I came. He was using my body for his pleasure only.
He pulled me close and tugged on the hair at the nape of my neck. He growled in my ear: "I knew what a kind of girl you were from the moment I saw you."
Foolishly, I asked, "What kind of girl am I?" I don't know why I asked this. I knew what kind of mood he was in. I knew what he would say. But there was a part of me that wondered what kind of girl I was then and what kind of girl I have become, and whether I could bear to see how he saw me. Whether I could bear the changes.
"A dirty girl. I knew you were a dirty little girl from the moment I met you." I shook my head, tried to deny it. "I knew you would let me fuck you as soon as I wanted. I knew you would let me do all of these things to you."
"No...," I protested weakly. He just held me tight to him as he bounced me up and down on his cock, faster and faster. He was hurting my neck with the force he was using to pull my hair.
Right before he came, he hissed in my ear: "I know I would own you and that I'd make you my whore. I always knew."
Pet
I was kneeling between his legs. He was stretched out on the bed, waiting for me to take his cock in my mouth. "Down," he coaxed, pushing on the back of my head, "down."
I lowered my head under pressure from his hand. "Good," he patted my head, "that's a good dog."
I froze, mid-suck. Did he just call me a dog? No, couldn't be. I chose to ignore it and kept sucking.
"Now, sit up," he cooed. I looked up at him with questioning eyes. "Sit up like a good dog."
I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. I had to obey but I didn't understand what he was doing. I sat up anyway and squeezed my hands together to manage the tension.
"See? You are a good dog!," he exclaimed with mock enthusiasm. I shook my head, still not sure what he was doing, aside from humiliating me. "Back down," he said and I lowered my head.
As I continued to suck him, he rubbed the back of my head and cooed some more about what a good dog I was for him. I sat up abruptly.
"I'm not a dog," I said with some hesitation. It seemed silly to have to assert such a thing about myself.
"Of course you are," he said with a frustrating lilt to his voice. "You sit up, you beg, you roll over-"
My hands flew up to my ears. "I'm not a dog!," I said louder, cutting him off from his list of my canine attributes. I couldn't listen to him recount all of the things that I do that, now that I thought about it, sounded awfully a lot like the things dogs do.
"Down," he said quickly, and I ducked my head down to his cock. He chuckled to himself and patted me on the head again. Dammit, I thought. I obeyed his command just like a dog. Oh god.
I started sniffling as I sucked his cock, not wanting to believe that he thought I was an animal. Not willing to admit that I act just like one. Tears dripped down my face as I started quietly crying.
"What's wrong?," he asked.
I looked up and mumbled, "I'm not a dog," through my sobs.
"Oh, yes you are," he said quietly.
"No, I'm a girl," I said, quietly at first. I kept repeating it to myself. "I'm a girl, I'm a girl, I'm a girl..." I kept up this mantra as I tried to block out all of the thoughts about the commands that I follow like a dog, the crawling on the floor, the begging. Was I trying to convince him that I was a girl or convince myself?
He pushed my head back down onto his cock and I managed to suck his cock. I stopped sniffling and was finally able to make him come in my mouth. It seemed like a hollow victory, since I had been so humiliated in the process.
He pulled me up next to him when I was finished. He nuzzled my neck and held me close, but I felt detached. I didn't know what to think of what just happened. He whispered in my ear: "Kitten, you're whatever I want you to be."
I lowered my head under pressure from his hand. "Good," he patted my head, "that's a good dog."
I froze, mid-suck. Did he just call me a dog? No, couldn't be. I chose to ignore it and kept sucking.
"Now, sit up," he cooed. I looked up at him with questioning eyes. "Sit up like a good dog."
I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. I had to obey but I didn't understand what he was doing. I sat up anyway and squeezed my hands together to manage the tension.
"See? You are a good dog!," he exclaimed with mock enthusiasm. I shook my head, still not sure what he was doing, aside from humiliating me. "Back down," he said and I lowered my head.
As I continued to suck him, he rubbed the back of my head and cooed some more about what a good dog I was for him. I sat up abruptly.
"I'm not a dog," I said with some hesitation. It seemed silly to have to assert such a thing about myself.
"Of course you are," he said with a frustrating lilt to his voice. "You sit up, you beg, you roll over-"
My hands flew up to my ears. "I'm not a dog!," I said louder, cutting him off from his list of my canine attributes. I couldn't listen to him recount all of the things that I do that, now that I thought about it, sounded awfully a lot like the things dogs do.
"Down," he said quickly, and I ducked my head down to his cock. He chuckled to himself and patted me on the head again. Dammit, I thought. I obeyed his command just like a dog. Oh god.
I started sniffling as I sucked his cock, not wanting to believe that he thought I was an animal. Not willing to admit that I act just like one. Tears dripped down my face as I started quietly crying.
"What's wrong?," he asked.
I looked up and mumbled, "I'm not a dog," through my sobs.
"Oh, yes you are," he said quietly.
"No, I'm a girl," I said, quietly at first. I kept repeating it to myself. "I'm a girl, I'm a girl, I'm a girl..." I kept up this mantra as I tried to block out all of the thoughts about the commands that I follow like a dog, the crawling on the floor, the begging. Was I trying to convince him that I was a girl or convince myself?
He pushed my head back down onto his cock and I managed to suck his cock. I stopped sniffling and was finally able to make him come in my mouth. It seemed like a hollow victory, since I had been so humiliated in the process.
He pulled me up next to him when I was finished. He nuzzled my neck and held me close, but I felt detached. I didn't know what to think of what just happened. He whispered in my ear: "Kitten, you're whatever I want you to be."
Your Darkest Fantasy Realized
I shared a fantasy with him - one of my most common, go-to masturbatory fantasies. I hadn't told him about it because it seemed like it was too much of a whole host of things. Too much humiliation, too much degradation, too much objectification, too much slutty, reprehensible behavior. It also had too many people in it...too many male people who used me while he held me down. I was immediately ashamed that I had told him.
I was even more taken aback when the fantasy failed to elicit any sort of shocked response from him. He didn't seem surprised or anything. He just rolled with it and started talking about finding a way to fulfill that fantasy for me. He wanted to see it, he wanted to be there to hold me down while it happened.
Even worse, he wanted to keep talking about it, using it as fodder for his own fantasies and contemplating what we'd do in the future. I just wanted to hide away. I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't even want to think about it. I basically shut down in response.
I stopped masturbating because I couldn't think about this fantasy, and if I couldn't think about this fantasy, I couldn't come. And when he tried to touch me last week, I pulled away. I could barely look him in the eye. Because how could he look me in the eye after I acted out that fantasy? Wouldn't I be just a piece of ruined trash, worse than the slut that I already am for him?
He noticed that I was unusually unresponsive, so he pressed me a bit. I finally admitted that I was ashamed at what I had told him about my fantasy. He reassured me that the reason he wanted to see that, the reason he was so enthusiastic about it for both of us, was that he wanted me to feel free enough to explore that darkest fantasy with him. Obviously, the alluring part of the fantasy was the acknowledgment of how wrong it all felt, that no good girl would do that willingly, that only the most depraved, dirty girl would even consider that. He wanted me to probe those feelings and embrace that dirty girl inside of me. He wanted me to be completely free.
There was this adorable twinkle in his eye as he told me that he'd have no problem looking at me after. He was leaning closer and I could see how aroused he was. When he pulled me to him, I didn't resist. I leaned into him and touched my tongue to his.
As I rode him, he called me his dirty little whore. It was making me wetter and wetter. He could feel it - his head was thrown back and he told me not to stop fucking him, that it felt so good.
"Don't stop?," I asked coyly. "You don't want me to stop?" I pulled off of him for a moment, just long enough to see this wild look in his eyes, and then lowered myself back onto his cock. He moaned loudly in appreciation.
Then - I don't know what got into me - I leaned down to his ear and whispered, "Beg me not to stop...beg."
He moaned again and begged with desperation in his voice. I pinned his wrists to the bed above his head and he begged harder. I fucked him harder, staring down at him and the surprised look in his eyes.
"Oh, fuck, Kitten," he moaned, "you are so hot, oh my god." I couldn't believe what I was doing. All I knew was that this energy between us, this spark, was too strong to ignore. I was his whore at that moment, doing exactly what he wanted to please him.
I reached back to caress his balls as I continued to ride him, and my hand trailed up against my own ass. My fingers found my asshole and an idea came to me. "Can I?," I asked him.
"Oh Kitten, yes, please, yes," he moaned and I slid my finger into my ass. I felt myself coming immediately and I was gushing all over his cock. I rubbed my clit with my other hand and sent myself over the edge. I could feel his cock throbbing in my pussy as my asshole clenched around my finger and my clit pulsed under my other hand. I screamed out with him and we came together.
After, I laid next to him, wondering where all that had come from. "Kitten, how did feel?," he asked.
I thought a moment and then took a deep breath. "Free," I said, realizing the lesson that I had learned.
"Yes, exactly. That's the feeling that I want to see on your face when we explore your fantasy. I want you to feel free to do anything for me." He touched my face and I turned to nuzzle his hand. "Good girl."
I was even more taken aback when the fantasy failed to elicit any sort of shocked response from him. He didn't seem surprised or anything. He just rolled with it and started talking about finding a way to fulfill that fantasy for me. He wanted to see it, he wanted to be there to hold me down while it happened.
Even worse, he wanted to keep talking about it, using it as fodder for his own fantasies and contemplating what we'd do in the future. I just wanted to hide away. I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't even want to think about it. I basically shut down in response.
I stopped masturbating because I couldn't think about this fantasy, and if I couldn't think about this fantasy, I couldn't come. And when he tried to touch me last week, I pulled away. I could barely look him in the eye. Because how could he look me in the eye after I acted out that fantasy? Wouldn't I be just a piece of ruined trash, worse than the slut that I already am for him?
He noticed that I was unusually unresponsive, so he pressed me a bit. I finally admitted that I was ashamed at what I had told him about my fantasy. He reassured me that the reason he wanted to see that, the reason he was so enthusiastic about it for both of us, was that he wanted me to feel free enough to explore that darkest fantasy with him. Obviously, the alluring part of the fantasy was the acknowledgment of how wrong it all felt, that no good girl would do that willingly, that only the most depraved, dirty girl would even consider that. He wanted me to probe those feelings and embrace that dirty girl inside of me. He wanted me to be completely free.
There was this adorable twinkle in his eye as he told me that he'd have no problem looking at me after. He was leaning closer and I could see how aroused he was. When he pulled me to him, I didn't resist. I leaned into him and touched my tongue to his.
As I rode him, he called me his dirty little whore. It was making me wetter and wetter. He could feel it - his head was thrown back and he told me not to stop fucking him, that it felt so good.
"Don't stop?," I asked coyly. "You don't want me to stop?" I pulled off of him for a moment, just long enough to see this wild look in his eyes, and then lowered myself back onto his cock. He moaned loudly in appreciation.
Then - I don't know what got into me - I leaned down to his ear and whispered, "Beg me not to stop...beg."
He moaned again and begged with desperation in his voice. I pinned his wrists to the bed above his head and he begged harder. I fucked him harder, staring down at him and the surprised look in his eyes.
"Oh, fuck, Kitten," he moaned, "you are so hot, oh my god." I couldn't believe what I was doing. All I knew was that this energy between us, this spark, was too strong to ignore. I was his whore at that moment, doing exactly what he wanted to please him.
I reached back to caress his balls as I continued to ride him, and my hand trailed up against my own ass. My fingers found my asshole and an idea came to me. "Can I?," I asked him.
"Oh Kitten, yes, please, yes," he moaned and I slid my finger into my ass. I felt myself coming immediately and I was gushing all over his cock. I rubbed my clit with my other hand and sent myself over the edge. I could feel his cock throbbing in my pussy as my asshole clenched around my finger and my clit pulsed under my other hand. I screamed out with him and we came together.
After, I laid next to him, wondering where all that had come from. "Kitten, how did feel?," he asked.
I thought a moment and then took a deep breath. "Free," I said, realizing the lesson that I had learned.
"Yes, exactly. That's the feeling that I want to see on your face when we explore your fantasy. I want you to feel free to do anything for me." He touched my face and I turned to nuzzle his hand. "Good girl."
Burn
He was hanging up the phone as I let myself into the house. "What did you bring, little girl?," He asked without turning toward me. I brought the purple satin bag over to him for inspection.
He set each item out on the table by the couch - the plug, the bottle of lube, the leather wrist restraints, the nipple clamps. I eyed the line-up warily. He had asked me to bring each of these things, but I didn't know whether (or in what manner) each would make an appearance.
He put a blanket on the floor by the couch. "On your hands and knees," he ordered without ceremony. "Did you get ready for me, Kitten?" I nodded quickly. I didn't (and still don't!) want to discuss what that entailed.
He slid the plug into my ass and all rational thought went out the window. It really only takes sinking the plug into place to drop me immediately into my most submissive headspace. He slid his cock into my pussy and I cried out. It was so tight and I felt so full. He started pounding into me and fooling with the plug at the same time - pushing it in deeper, moving it from side to side to stretch my asshole. I couldn't separate the sensations. They blended together into one great roar.
He pulled out the plug and started fucking my ass with a steady rhythm. He pulled out and back in went the plug. Over and over, he fucked my asshole with his cock then the plug, his cock then the plug. He put his hand on the back of my neck and pushed my upper body against the ground. My ass was in the air, vulnerable. I was clawing at the ground and screaming myself hoarse. I was past the point of orgasm, or maybe I was still having one? I was too delirious to tell.
He continued fucking me, past the point where I thought I could bear it. But he had his grip on my hips and I had nowhere to go. I wanted to ask him to wait, couldn't we go upstairs first and relax, but that was just a last-ditch attempt at control. I thought to myself: "This is submission."
He warned me before he pulled the plug out and put his cock in for the last time. "I'm going to come in your ass, Kitten, are you ready? Can you take it?" He didn't require a response. He moaned loudly, sharply, and pulled back hard on my hips as he came.
The unbelievable thing was that he stayed hard after coming and had me suck him until he came again. He probably didn't know how dirty and degraded I felt after he had fucked me in the ass on the floor, like I'm an animal. Actually, he probably did know that.
It was only later that I realized that I had rug burn on both of my elbows - sensitive patches where I had worn the skin away by trying to hold onto the floor and failing spectacularly. Those patches of skin have just begun to heal but I think my ego has been damaged forever.
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