I am an owned submissive, and I am Sir’s completely. But he also knows I am a total slut. I crave men… many men… and I can’t stop that anymore than I can stop breathing.
Sir keeps me on a very loose leash. I get to play with those many men, some long time lovers, some complete strangers whose names I will never know. It amuses him to watch me with others. I am not sure if it is my behavior with them, or their reactions to me, or perhaps both that brings that smile of great pride to his face. Seeing that smile while I am being pounded into oblivion from behind & suffocating on a 10-inch cock always brings (more) tears from my eyes.
Often I play alone with other men. Sir does the screening, makes the arrangements, ensures my safety, and gives me any instructions. Even though Sir isn’t there, I wear His collar, not the other man’s. I am serving the man (or men) for my Sir. I follow their rules without question unless, of course, there is a conflict with one of His. There have been none, and I have served Sir as well as I possibly could, grinning all the way.
I have often wondered which side was stronger in me. The submissive or the slut. Funny… I always figured it was the slut…
My slut side has not suffered at all being owned by Sir. What has happened though is that it has become, for the first time ever, controlled.
At the same time the slut has also finally become totally free. There is something very empowering about proudly bending over and spreading my pussy in a room full of men waiting for the first of them… all of them… to penetrate me…
Oops, sorry. I got distracted there for a minute.
And always after I have Sir to thank. No matter who or how many fuck me; no matter how they make me scream, cum, beg, cry, and/or smile; it always ends with “Thank you Sir. I love you.”
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