Start of a Great Weekend

It wasn't until last night that Master used me. As I labored deliciously over his cock, the harsh growl of his disappointment dragged me back down to Whore.

"You've been fucking useless to me as a whore today."

I felt relief course through my trembling form. I apologized humbly. His power increased over me and he became more aggressive. This weekend is actually our much anticipated anniversary weekend. As part of our planning I've been begging Master to mark me all over with his bruises and push me farther down in his mind so we get closer to that day when he can look at me and feel no respect, just a base creature that exists for his every whim.

Master then bit down on my breasts, almost breaking the skin, while he had me grind slowly, with him buried deep inside me ("this what you simulated when you grinded on customers at the club; you didn't even know what a whore you were being, did you?"). I babbled yelps of gratitude, wanting more pain and more of his marks beautifying my body. When I told him how good it felt, he snorted "Do you think I care, bitch?" He came inside me, pulling my head backward by my hair so far that I could barely breathe. I still found the breath to moan my cum junkie pleasure at the overwhelming sensation of his grunts, the violent pumping of his cock, and the warmth of his cum filling me. He relaxed for a moment after making his deposit, maybe enjoying my tortured breathing, maybe not even caring. Then he reared his hand back and started slapping my breasts with a savageness that made me cry out in genuinely startled pain. He kept cruelly pulling me back to rigid attention for his abuse by my hard nipples until I obediently kept my back arched as he wrought his pleasure on my freshly bruised skin.

While he watched tv, I kept thinking back on his savage hands and trembling with desire. He found my trembling amusing and at one point he wordlessly lifted my ass in the air and jammed his finger in my pussy. I writhed and automatically humped it like a mindless animal. I purred to him that I found him slapping me around so unbelievably sexy and thanked him, hoping he would do it more in the future. Before I started becoming Whore, I resented his abuse and would shut down and pout instead of realizing how lucky I was to feel his physical dominance over me. I'm not talking anything as careless as a battered wife is treated, because a whore is completely different and is abused because she wants and needs it, not to cause fear based submission or permanent bodily damage.

We talked about how he had read another slave's blog entry about complacency is the death of a M/s relationship and how the only way to maintain it is to keep a slave living in fear of her Master.

"I think I understand what she was saying, Master; your disappointment in me for being useless as a whore all day brought me back down to where I should be. I think a slave needs to feel her Master's disappointment. I resent when Masters 'princess' slaves and give them nothing but praise and put up with their inability to properly serve. I would rather be made aware of your disapproval and only receive short reinforcements when I get it right."

Master agreed and said there was a lot of placating in relationships now. Masters get tired of fighting a losing battle by trying to get their stubborn slaves to change and be more pleasing; they end up placating the slave to keep her putting out. Women hold the sexual trump card. He said a random woman could walk up in the street and call out rape at her slightest whim, and a man would be thrown in jail. I said heck, even a man's own wife could accuse him of rape. A wife gets in the mood and starts tearing her husband's clothes off and it is sexy, but if a man randomly does that to his wife, it's rape and abuse. He said slaves should be told when they are displeasing and only given simple praise, if any at all.

Master told me to stay, then went to the bathroom to piss. I strained to hear the decadent stream, my entire body screaming to rush in with him and start gulping down the liquid. That's one of the things I've begged to work on this weekend; becoming his toilet piss slut. We haven't done anything like that in years after I took one mouthful and ungraciously spat it out, whining about the taste. Since starting as Whore, I've been groomed by Master with suggestions that I'm going to become addicted to his piss. He said that will take away more of his respect for me, and it drives me insane with lust to dream of that. Now that I'm always overwhelmed with sexual desire, even a comment he makes in passing has the power of a hypnotic suggestion. When he came back, I whimpered how much I wanted to drink his piss. He assured me it would be soon. Perhaps an hour later he let me come with him and stay prostrated on the floor while he pissed again. I moaned and babbled about how turned on I was. I finally managed to shut myself up; I might have kept unconsciously moaning, I don't remember. All I could think about was wanting that piss to splatter on my skin and choke me as I struggled to swallow it all.

Master sent me to get lotion to massage his feet while he kept watching TV. He said I should be useful to him at all times. We watched tv together. I turned and asked if I could be allowed to spend some money beautifying myself. He cocked his head at me.

"I've been noticing that a lot of slaves who otherwise seem perfect look so dowdy and unattractive. They don't get their hair cut, eat right, work out, wear makeup, or look like they are even trying." Since becoming Whore, I've steadily felt shame in my worn down mommy look.

Master said it was a mindset that I didn't understand because I've always been a perfect 0 and known I could have any man I want. He said a lot of girls become slaves because they think that gives them sexual value, thus they don't have to try to be beautiful because they're a sexy fuck toy. He said they don't realize that after a Master gets tired of them, they are back to being a plain Jane again. He gave me permission to start spending a modest sum making myself look outwardly like the sexy Whore he's changing me to on the inside.

It was a delicious start to the weekend indeed.

-Whore