Hilda\' s two Masters

Hilda’s two Masters part 8 of 15

 

Forewords: She is still ambivalent and I have no right to leave it out. Sorry!

Cecilita

 

 

 

Hilda:

I woke up early next morning and sat up in the bed as if a steel spring was connected to my backbone.

 

In the seconds of awakening my thoughts streamed over me:

 

It’s not a dream! I have signed the deed-of-gift on my self. I have been giving my self away and my body belonged to Master Micke. He owned me now!

 

But Jesus, he owned me?

 

Yes, he owned me and I had voluntarily sign the deed-of-gift on my body. He had stopped me several times and even asked if wanted time for reflection, but I had said no and deny myself more time.

 

No, I wanted to sign the deed-of-gift directly.

 

Am I the most stupid girl in Sweden?

 

I must be crazy. I have to visit a shrink and have him examine my brain. For sure some switches must be missing, in there, anyway some of the cables to the common sense.

 

But it felt so good when I signed if and warmth feelings flow inside of me. I wanted to be like Anna, a complete slave-girl.

 

This was a large step forward in that direction, if only Master Micke kept what he silently promised as a Master.

 

Should I be like Anna? She had many times stressed how important it was to be careful in the choice of a Master.

 

Have I been careful?

 

No, really not. I had rushed away and give away myself as a slave-girl to a man that I only had known in hours. It didn’t seem healthy.

 

I suddenly become rigid. Master Micke could give my any order he wanted and I was forced by my own acting to obey him, not matter what. I was forced to act out any madness he found out. At the other hand he didn’t seem to be a man that rushes away and definitely not a mad man. He had give my heart all the right signals that he is a stabile, nice, apathetic and wise man.

 

Now I understood what Anna mean by first learn to know a man before you give yourself to him at mercy and no mercy.

 

It was this total delivering that I in my deepest and wildest fantasies had longed for and planned for myself. Now it was true and reality. My heart knows that.

 

I had not even a safe-word.

 

No, but I felt that if I wanted to be as Anna, there will no stop-word. It was madness, but it felt okay with no safety-word. I must learn to trust him.

 

In my backbone I knew that in the Swedish society’s eye a deed of gift of this kind had no value. The law accepted voluntariness and all its angels, but only up to the real serious felonies and then it abrogate the voluntariness.

To show a deed of gift written by a girl, where she hands over her body to another person should if anything be an object of a laughing stock. Perhaps even an involuntary trip to a shrink.

 

Though my deed of gift had no value in others eyes, it had it in mine. I wrote it to have a forcing strength behind my promises. Actually it was my good name and loyalty to my word that was at risk.

 

It was also coordinated with my own sex-fantasies during the last years and Micke was my Master now, and that's flat!

 

I looked to the right of me in the bed where he slept with his head outside the pillow and with the cover half-way to the floor.

 

I watched him. He was my Master now! It was his mind that would decide over me and I should have noting to say about it.

I had to obey him, yummy, what it felt good.

 

As other girls, I had in mind to get married one day and have a man, a husband. In a funny way I felt as a bride, but thousand times more, when I looked at my man, no, at my Master. He was my owner.

 

My common sense protested with: “Damn, I’m not a dog or a cat!”

 

But yes, in my fantasy it was just an owner I wanted. The rest of the world may think I’m crazy. It is my life.

 

He moved in his sleep a little restless and the cover moved more to the floor. But the important was that it left his genitals and left them bare for my eyes. Everything there were all mine.

 

My new Master lay half on his back and half on his left side, with his body slightly contorted to me.

He had his left leg up and bended at the knee and his right leg almost straight.

 

I looked at his sleeping and slacken member and thought of how big it have been and now so tiny.

Jesus, where did it go? All that size only disappeared. Did it go inwards and then out again as a baton, when he needed it?

 

His hair down there was nicely done.

 

In some sort of mixture of suck up to my owner and wanting have this thing between my lips and feel it grow there and perhaps my own slave-girl-impulse to please, I bended forwards and caught this little thing in my open mouth.

 

I didn’t see it as an initiative, more as a suggestion and was aware of the risk that he could punish me and felt that I would be worth it.

 

I tried to get use to the thought that he was my owner now. He owned my body and I didn’t any longer. I had voluntarily handed over my body to him and the right to do with me as he pleased. Well what a man could do to a woman was rather bound and was inside certain limits.

 

My common sense as it was scared stiff told me that it was possible to develop in any direction. Everything dependent upon what this man had in his brain of sexual fantasies and perhaps madness.

 

My common sense reproached me that I was so quick to sign this deed of gift. I should have waited one month or two.

 

Well I had signed it so I had to go through it, what ever he had in store for me. In the worst case I had to cancel my deed of gift.

 

Three month! How could I be that stupid?

 

My heart came into my thoughts and it felt that he was the right man for me.

So far he had only showed his positive sides. As I saw it, he was kind, understanding, had empathy, caring, as well as firm, demanding and manly nonchalant.

He couldn’t be wrong for me, my heart added.

 

Close to my eyes I watched his candy-bag, which rested at his left thigh.  

 

I moved my body further down so I rested on my knees.

 

//

 

At the girl group meeting we have some training-courses in themes that are interesting for us.

Mostly girls among us hold different courses in subject they had specialized in.

 

Two women had a lecture in Deep Throat, but they taught different ways (variations).

 

As Mats allowed me to go to the meetings I was on that lecture. I listen carefully but when I was back with Mats I had adapted one of the variants as it worked out.

 

The method was the common one, to take I deep breathe, to make the air last as long as possible and then force the cock down into the deep of the throat. Then I had to swallow and swallow and by that massage his glans with my swallow-reflexes. It worked for me and for him.

 

But now with Master Micke’s sleeping cock in my mouth I remembered the other variant, I think as a way to give my new Master MORE!

 

The other instructor told us to do the opposite and explained that if I filled my lungs with air the compressed air would try to press the cock out from the depth. 

 

Instead she told us to let out all the air from our lungs and then press and swallow the cock down. There were two advantages over the regularly method:

One, it created its own reinforced suction from the under pressure of my lungs and

Two, my throat was not as tensed as it was when I compressed it to keep the air in my lungs.

 

It could mean, she said, that my relaxed throat could take 5 cm (2 in) more cock. She had also a technique with the tongue that she told us about.

 

Now, suddenly after months I wanted to try her variant with my new Master.

 

He seems to still sleep and I pushed gently back his foreskin with my lips so I could have his glans bare for my treatment.

 

I remember feeling a little disappointment that he wasn’t awake by my lips around his cock, but that is just my egotism and female vanity.

 

To push back the foreskin with my lips had Mats taught me. He didn’t accept that I touched his glans with my fingers, only with a very wet tongue and saliva-wet lips.

 

My tongue had to play gentle as a feather at the underside and my lips enclosed it at its neck (the part between the glans and the rest of it).

 

I started to attend to the neck of it and enclosed and relaxed my lips very carefully and let them repeatedly move just slightly. Mats had learned me that it was very enjoyable for the man.

 

I had learned my lesson and my tongue must not come near his outflow-slit, but the underside was allowed. I pressed it up against his glans and moved it wet and warm forwards and back in a patient pace.

The tip of my tongue was to move in a ticklish way against the string when I moved the tongue back and then press my tongue sliding back in. 

 

He mumbled something and I felt that even if he wasn’t awake this body part started to wake up. It swelled so quick that I couldn’t understand how.

 

So I got a little mad idea.

 

Now it was to later for that, but next time I had it small in my mouth I should keep my lips tight to its root in the hair and then let it swell into my mouth and seek its place down to my gullet, his secondary vagina.

 

With him still sleeping I had no demands and that make it easier to develop new ideas. My own demand to develop more for my Master’s pleasure came not from the outside world.  As soon as I felt his demand I could return to relaxing and passively wait for orders of what to do. That was a wonderful, exposed and thrilling waiting state of mind.

 

As his slave-girl I wanted to develop in every direction and to invent new methods for his pleasure, but I had also to scan his sensitiveness to know what to do.

 

Now when his cock had swelled to a pulsating size I remember my instructor’s word and did what she had taught me.

 

I stretched out my tongue, so far out as one does at a doctor’s examination. Then I put his cock far back at my tongue, as deep in the cavity, as I could.

I let out all the air from my lungs and then I pushed my head downwards and my mouth over the cock and felt it force down in its pipe. I helped its trip by swallowing it down and felt it go further in every swallowing motions.

 

It was right! It was much easier as I was more relaxed in my throat. I also felt it locked down there by the suction from the under pressure in the lungs.

 

Now it was deep and way down my relaxed gullet. Surely she had right because I had no problem at all and had my lips as deep into his hair bush as his pubic bone inside allowed.

 

The gag-reflexes were gone now. I had to fight them before and won every time. 

 

It glides out and then easily back again. After four trips I had a quick breathe and let my tongue and lips handle the massage for fractions of a second. I inhaled and then let it go back to my throat again.

 

I felt a euphoric happiness to give him that pleasure. He was my Master and he owned me and by that he had also the right to have pleasure as high as it is possible for me to give him. I knew that a slave-girl’s (and a lover’s) value stand in proportion to her ability to give pleasure and enjoyment. When she loses that capacity she could easily be on her way out. That’s life! 

 

He had woken up somewhere in the time-field and he could only handle three of those journeys before he empty himself into my stomach. Unfortunately I couldn’t taste his sperm, as he cum so deep down my throat. The taste-buds at my tongue had no chance to scan the taste. I wanted to, but have to quietly wait for another time.

 

I almost automatically cleaned him and didn’t think about it when I wondered of my new life as a full time slave-girl. My Master could not enough praise me for my mouth arts and this last in particular. 

 

He said that there was nothing that was as pleasurable as that. He had heard others talk about it and now he had experienced it himself.

 

I was actually self-conscious at all the praise he shower me with, but I register the experience for the future.

 

Why had I not practiced this variant with Mats?

No, that was of no interest, I had a real Master now.

 

- How did you do that?

 

His question expressed a great admiration.

 

I stretched out my tongue as far as I could outside my open mouth.

 

- I did only so and the let it go down into my gullet.

 

This new breath technique could a Master not be interested in, it was enough that his slave-girl handle that. Especially now then she had learned it and learn how to practice it.

 

In my mind it was simple and enjoyable, a Master expressed his will and a slave-girl executes and turns it to reality. She has to use the intelligence and the means that she had to her disposal. She must act at his command.

 

//

 

Breakfast.

 

- I’m pleased with you as you are, but there is no wrong being the best in the class. To be the perfect and complete slave-girl has to do with thinking, point of view, submission and her experiences. But it also has to do with learning new techniques, a great stamina and eagerness to serve.

I have noticed that you are in the field of inventions to give the very best in your pleasure-giving and I admire that attitude. So this has not a trace of criticism.

 

- Yes Master!

 

- I want you to develop as a slave-girl so you will be a real super-slave-girl, the best in the world. Then you can feel real proud ness and go with your head high.

 

- Yes Master!

 

I didn’t really know what he meant but if he meant that he would teach me how he wanted me, it was very okay with me. That was what I wanted. He must be pleased with me. But if it was a critic of my way of being his slave-girl it would sting deep into my slave-girl-soul.

I have to bend my head for his will.

 

- I want to know how and in what way you enjoy being my slave-girl.

 

- Yes Master. I enjoy doing it as nice for you as you want me to, sometimes more and sometimes less.

 

- Have you felt the submission-feeling?

 

- Yes Master, but it come and go, sometimes not at all.

 

- Have you experienced the submission-intoxication?

 

- No Master. I don’t think so.

 

- Girl, if you had experienced it you had never answered so. If you had, you had known it for sure.

 

- No Master. How is it then?

 

- I had only heard others speak of it and the psychic- orgasm, but I understand that it is something quite extraordinary in the field of pleasure for a slave-girl.

It is so captivating and so sweeping that it exceeds all known mental and bodily pleasures for a woman.

I know Anna very well and I think that I can make her give me name and address to her Master BB. It is he who had specialized in many years in those new feelings and developed a technique to put into the subconscious for those slave-girls who had experienced the submission-feeling and then they can experience it themselves in its full power. I had talked to Becky, who had visiting him and I didn’t believe her first. But now I had it confirmed from different persons. Many talk about it but few had experienced it, as it is still in the experiment phase.

 

After my knowledge no one had studied those effects before. He can probably also put into your subconscious the psychic orgasm, that is an intensification of the ordinary orgasm and up to something that simulate a Hyper-orgasmus. Perhaps it is not the odd if he had learned how to prepare your brain and trim it up to receive those new experiences. One can soup up an engine and get out much more of it so way not a brain?

If you get one of those effects I’m pleased. I will try to arrange it for you.

 

- Thank you Master.

 

I didn’t really know what I thanked him for, but I have heard about that type of intoxication that can increase the pleasure up to glaring heights. I had also heard Rebecca talked about it but I know that she is a fanatic and very easy get fixed.

Beside of that I don’t decide for myself any longer. He has the right for send wherever he wants. He owns me now, I felt with a nice shivering.

 

It is so nice when my Master decides for me and also decides that I will have pleasures of the Gods, without of have my own saying. It is so wonderful submitting and enjoyable.

 

But I didn’t want him to think that I was after my own enjoyment so I must ask him.

 

- Master, may I ask?

 

- Yes!

 

- Master, I’m not ungrateful but I want you to have all the pleasure. After what I heard it would be I who had all those pleasure and not you.

 

This was not up to 100 % true. Surely I wanted to have pleasure, but only from giving it to him. But again, those pleasures that I had heard of was a euphoric flight and a gift from heaven, so who was I to say thanks-but-no.

 

- You see, I’m a bit egoistic. If he put this super sensual pleasure into your mind I will enjoy you the more. Then you, in your own pleasure, will be a much better slave-girl for me. Do you understand?

 

- Yes Master.

 

I understood that he wanted to enjoy me more. It is a typically manly egoistic thought, but no object from me. If this mystic man put those effects into my mind I could perhaps think more slavish and not to call things in question as I sometimes did quietly and deep inside. I didn’t like that myself. It didn’t fulfill my own standards of being a perfect slave-girl.

 

- By the way! You can mail to Cecilita and get Anna’s new e-mail-address. Then I can contact Anna or Cecilita to get his address. I know that he lives in the south part of Sweden.

 

//

 

Will be continued.

Cecilita