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Review This Story || Author: Cecilita

Hilda\' s two Masters

Part 15

Hilda’s two Masters part 15 of 22

Hilda’s two Masters part 15 of 22

 

BTW:

English as a global MEETING-LANGUAGE.

 

At least since the colonial time the genuine English people are used to hear their language in many variations and with accents, as Afrikaans, American, and Australian a s o and they normally have learned to understand it very well.

 

Beside of OXFORD-ENGLISH, there is a new and another variation of English that has been developed mostly as a MEETING-LANGUAGE.

 

People, with their own mother-language, from all over the BIG World use the meeting-language to get in contact with others at f ex Internet.

 

In this type of English it is accepted to NOT be all grammatically correct as long as the text is moderately understandable; otherwise you stop reading it and don’t care!

 

That is the price many millions gladly will pay for the benefit of many stories and knowledge, from all over the world, which they otherwise couldn’t assimilate.

 

I can’t see that anyone owns a language.

 

The story is still slow and Hilda is ambivalent and egoistic.

 

In a humble tone.

Cecilita

Cecilitasv70@hotmail.com

 

 

 

 

HILDA:

 

I think I laid on the floor in five minutes or more and the pleasure-waves had been replaces by thrilling and some very nice convulses that shook my body from time to time, but everything slowed down. I had started to breathe normally and it felt good in my lungs when I took one deep breathe after another.

 

I felt a little bad conscience for taking his time with me on his floor, but he had ordered me to do it. Then I understood that he had seen signs that I was close to a fainting by overstraining and that was why he had me on the floor, of course.

 

He sat on his stool and looked down at me with his nice, calm and seeing-through eyes.

 

I felt a very great respect for him and a so strong acknowledgement of him as my Master that I wanted to lay in the order-position at the floor just to pay tribute to him.

 

I lay there and try to let my body and feelings landing. If he wanted me up from the floor, he would say so. He was the Master.

 

I was so grateful to him that I had tears in my eyes when I looked up on him. I felt it as my heart was going to burst and felt more tears coming.

 

I like Him. No, I actually love him! He make me feel so calm and happy at my inside that I started to miss it before I loose it, as I know I would when this week-end was over. Maybe I would have other deep feelings and pleasure-waves and thrilling in my body, as rewards, but this was something else. I felt, in a very distinct feeling, that I could do absolutely anything to stay with him and absorb the calmness in his present.

 

I suddenly found out, naked and resting on his floor, that I never had loved a person before in my whole life, except from my father. I have also loved my mother, but in a different way though I never an

authority–respect for her, she was just mother.

I had thought that I had loved guys, many times, but now I know for sure that I didn’t know what love was, before this very moment, naked on the floor in older man’s kitchen!

 

My father had said: “You will know love, when you meet it. You will feel it in your heart, but also in your backbone!”

 

Now I felt in every nerve in my body and mind exactly what my father meant.

I loved this Man. How sad that there was so big different in years between us, but we could have many incomprehensible and magnificent years together, if He only allowed it. I had many times said that different in age doesn’t matter; now I felt it. 

There was the deed-of-gift, but I must think of my happiness and my pleasure. Master Micke had stressed, “Think about it and don’t rush!”  When shall I learn to simply obey?

Now I wished that Master Micke had given my stubborn bottom a good thrashing.

 

I remembered that Rebecca had said that He was the new Messiah and we had all openly laughed at her. Everyone knew that Rebecca was a fanatic and by that she was easily fixed in ideas and feelings.

 

In her one-way-thinking there was only religion to compare with. He, on the contrary, stood on science ground, plus something more that I couldn’t put my finger at.

 

Now I understood what she had detected in Him, His kindness, and infectious calmness and seeing-through eyes. There was of course his capacity to mediate an inner happiness, His knowledge and hidden power to give a girl inner pleasures and delights.  But most of all those invisible waves He was sending over to me, that make me feel good and calm inside. I felt now inside of me a welcoming calmness that I never had felt in my life before. I can imagine what he could do to a nervous person. If I had knew about Him when I earlier in my life felt anxiety and nervousness I had run to Him or crawled to Him.

 

But I strongly felt that I for the first time in my life felt pure love. I loved Him. Though I hastily had signed a deed-of-gift on myself and no longer was free, I loved Him. My egoistic self had gladly broken the deed-of-gift if He just had given me a sign, but my conscience had stopped me, I hope – or hope not.

 

And still I can’t say that I regret signing of the deed-of-gift; no, I have learned that one shall never regret a decision that was taken before one got the final result in life. 

 

- You can stand up when you want to!

 

- Thank you Master!

 

I felt so grateful and so humble and slavish. My body had rested enough and now I was curious on the rest of the day. I stood quickly up into the order-position.

 

I liked this position more than ever. In the same time as I stretched my muscles to hold my body in exact position, it also felt like a recumbent position for my body and it felt so “damn” right to mark my slave-girl ship in it. 

 

Now I knew the code for the delighted waves! Obedience!

 

I felt so humble and slavish that I wanted to crawl on the floor for Him to see my humbleness. I was His slave-girl now.

 

He sat in His stool and I ogled at “my” place and regretted that I had put a plate for me to, as if I presumed that I, a slave-girl, was allowed to sit at the table, just because he had allowed it before.

 

A slave-girl must learn to know her place! Sadly to say I felt the real slave-girl thoughts constantly being attacked by my own egoism. I hated to be an egoist as it prevents me from being a good slave-girl.

 

Master Micke had told me that He was my Master when I was here and I felt in my whole body that He was my Master. Those new feelings, the wonderful nice waves in my body when I obeyed Him made me wanting nothing else than obey Him. And I wanted to stay. The strong yearning to stay followed the waves and made me feel them stronger.

 

My mind started to freely flew away in fantasies of how He could use me as his slave-girl. It was very private yearnings from my time with Mats that took place in my brain. I felt it strongly that if He just gave me a hint of letting me stay, there was absolutely no ways He couldn’t use me in. But when my fantasies started to build up scenarios of me naked crawling around on the floor for his friends, my common sense put a stop to it. It didn’t fit for him. He wasn’t that type of man. And I tried to excuse my fantasies as it only was a way to show that I would have absolutely NO limits if He allowed me to stay, but also to show my humbleness before Him and devotion to Him.

 

I also reduce my own ego to a level where I didn’t even felt the pleasure-waves and the thrilling-delight, but then my common sense told me that I was not trustworthy anymore, so I gave that up, knowing myself.

 

Still loving him deep in my heart I fell back to my normally me and I felt an enormous earning for Him to give me a very difficult order so I could experience those most extreme waves. But it seemed as He didn’t want to do it. I had begged for it and He knew that I wanted him to do it.

 

Use me! My God, what is it? I wanted it so infinitely willingly. What if my own will didn’t count at all?

 

It was in that way it worked, He said, the more difficult order for me to execute, the more pleasure for me. It was so tempting.

 

It had nothing to do with Him, but how I experienced it. My value was important.

Master Micke had let me taste my own value as a woman and I think that he wanted to develop it in me.

But I hoped that he would mix it with me being a slave-girl, with no value. Everything gets it power from its opposite.

 

I felt that I would rather stand in order-position and waited on His table.

 

Suddenly the answer hit me. My thoughts were all the time circulating around what I wanted and how I could experience the fantastic pleasure. It was badly wrong for a slave-girl to be that egoistic. I must learn to think like a real slave-girl. Perhaps He could teach me?

 

Of course that was also the reason for him to not order me anything difficult. If I wanted it, it would also loose it value of a difficult order and reduce the pleasure.

 

Could it be that He wouldn’t do it for He knew, as long as I wanted to do it, it wasn’t giving me any real pleasure-waves?

 

Yes, of course. Thank you Master for letting me understand it, I whispered to my self.

 

Must He wait for me to not wanting it?

Perhaps that kind of difficult order must hit me as a blow, coming out of the blue.

 

 

To punish myself for bad and egoistic thinking, I wished that He would give me a real trashing on my bare bottom. I must learn to think as a slave-girl and instead wait for what He had in store for me. I must submit to His will, not mine.

 

Probably a thrashing from him would be the most wonderful experience for me and not a punishment at all. 

 

I must wait for him to take the lead so I stood there and waited for him to react and direct me.

 

There must be no wrong in wanting to feel those fantastic pleasures, that’s why he had put them there, but I must wait for his initiative and order.

 

Further more I think that it is an old fashion opinion that a slave-girl must suffer all the time as long as she isn’t a pain-slut. His new school showed a new way, that she was inner rewarded for her obedience and quickness, and even her own eagerness and willingness to submit to her Master and to execute the most difficult orders with no hesitation.

 

I started to slowly get it now.

 

As he didn’t give me an order of what to do I used the time left over to reflect on his treatment here.

He needed girls and women for his experiments to elaborate his research further.

Other girls had contacted him via Anna (and Cecilita) to voluntarily be his “guinea-pigs” and with that meet “The Universe of female orgasm and pleasure”.

But I had a Master who arranged it for me. I felt a certain thrill when I thought of it like Master Micke had applied for my voluntarily ness to come here.

I had not applied my self; my Master took care of that for me. As a real Master I took complete care for his slave-girl and that felt so good!

 

I wish that he would give me an order, any one.

 

As if He could read my mind, or perhaps noticed me ogle ling at “my place”, He nodded at the stool and said:

 

- Sit!

 

Something inside of me loved that it was a distinct and firm order “Sit!” and not a “please sit down”.

 

- Yes Master!

 

I sat so fast that I heard the “smack” when my bottom-flesh hit the wooden-seat at the stool and felt the reward, but only as little wave, as nice shudder, but much more pleasant.

The thrills and the waves had a clear sexual approach, as they hit my genitals, but this shudder was more bodily, but a delight.

 

I was so exciting to see if these pleasures hold out all the way. He seemed to be convinced that it would and by that I was sure as well.

 

We eat in silence. I don’t like silence, I got no signal if He is pleased with me or not, and if not why.

 

If you talk to a person you can scan language-melody and intonation, and get signals if something is wrong.

 

I had to wait and let Him steer me. It felt good too, but I didn’t know Him yet.

 

It is always more difficult to sit in silence with someone you don’t really know, though I knew Him.

 

He was dominant and would surely tell me if something was wrong. He knew that He was the Master and as a Master that I was a simple slave-girl and I had no responsibility, more than to obey Him. It was easy and incredible delightful.

 

I was ready before him. He ate slowly, chewed carefully and looked in front of himself as through me.

I wanted to speak, but I didn’t dare to. 

 

I wonder what was going to happen now, I had experienced more in those few hours in this house then I my whole life. That is no overstatement!

 

What will he do next?

 

Very demonstratively I put down my knife, fork and spoon to let him know that I was ready. But what was I ready for? Yes I was really ready for anything, anything.

 

I would gladly raise and in the order-position wait for His order or wait at his table. I wanted to give Him so much. He seemed to be true altruistic. Giving, helping, treating without of anything for Himself, not even using His slave-girl as He was in title to and in any way He wanted. I loved that my Master Micke had handed over the Master-ship to Him and had been happier if He used his right. Can a slave-girl want to be used? I can, I’m an egoistic.

 

I sat silently and waited. It was His orders that started my pleasure and I was yearning myself crazy for His order.

 

This is early in the day and there would be many more hours in this day and there was one day tomorrow as well.

 

I thought of that, it was His orders that released all those wonderful feelings and I found myself dying for his order. It is madness, but miraculous.

I hoped of all my heart to give more orders and I would obey him further more quickly.

 

My shame was gone and I felt it but didn’t think about that I was nude all the time and in my every movement. I wanted to attract his eyes with my naked body, as it did with other men.

 

Maybe I’m conceited, but I can’t remember that I ever felt needed to think so before, instead as soon as I show anything that could be tempting for a mans eyes they had not resist to look and that felt good. Little as power!

 

- ORDER-POSITION!

 

Could he read my thoughts, or my body language? I let the steel-feather in my back-bone release and bounce up to the order-position with recognizing smile over my face.

 

Now I got it verified, an unimaginably and magnificent   wave rinsed over me. It was the reward for my quickness. But I demanded much more quickness from my body. I’m an egoist. I hope that he could change me to a real slave-girl.

 

- Yes Master!

 

I didn’t know if I was supposed to say that, but I had got used to it when I stood in the order-position, this time it came automatically. It was my confirmation to my Master and that he had my full attention and stood ready to obey him.

 

The position felt so submissive and was suppose to leave that signal.

 

It also felt so good in my body to say so.

 

I waited and waited and had all the time my eyes at Him, as I had learned at the girl-group’s slave-girl-course and as Mats had trained me into.

 

I saw that he was ready with his food and put down his knife, fork and spoon.

 

- Run in and sit in the leather chair!

 

- Yes Master!

 

It was a so clear order to RUN. It was difficult with doors when one is running. I was rewarded with really nice thrilling in my body. I thought it was for the difficultness with the doors.

 

In the room I throw my naked body into the easy chair and leaned backwards. The cold leather made me shiver but it was immediately replaced by a nice thrill. My God, how nice!

 

As in a after-flash I felt that the leather chair was cold to my skin but I felt so far away and was so unimportant.

 

I was sitting naked in a strange room and it felt so nice and so thrilling and alluring.

 

My heart was pounding, but if it was by the excitement, the full speed race or the nice thrilling it had caused, I don’t know. I’m not in that bad shape, that I would get a pulse for a little running.

 

To the left at the wall I saw an ornamental clock, which I haven’t seen before. But of course the room wasn’t important at all last time I met the pleasure-waves in here.

 

It felt so submissively nice to run at max speed and then sit here and wait for His arrival. Even the thought gave me a nice thrilling through my body, as a pleasant shiver.

 

I felt like a dog, max speed and then much waiting.

 

I keep associating in new and strange thoughts inside my head, but they felt so nice.

I wouldn’t mind being a dog in this house. Think of crawling naked around on the floor and see His legs when He walked around.

Or to roll up beside his feet when he sat reading, listening at music or watched TV.

Perhaps shrink up my body in his lap and be caressed or maybe, as his slave-girl caress him with my mouth at the floor before him.

 

My God, I have never had those madly thoughts before in my life. Had I been completely crazy?

Or is it only calm and nice here with space for free thoughts crazy excursion in the wonderful and safe world of fantasy?

But to stay here and just rest my head, feelings and body, okay, obey him and letting the thoughts rest in between.

 

No, I’m not allowed to think those thoughts. I have a deed-of-gift hanging over me and I have to live up to it. I have an owner!

It felt that my heart beat and extra beat. An owner that owns me! My God, what a lovely feeling.

 

If He had been my owner He would be bound to keep me here in the house, how woderful!

 

I wondered if he would start to give me orders, when he came into the room. Probably he would do that to make me feel how it felt.

He told me before that it was important that I was honest when I described how I felt it, so I must do more to have something to exp0erience and tell him about.

 

Jesus, how could I be anything else than honest to him?

 

I heard him approaching and the door opened. I felt that my body wanted to quickly raise and stand in the order-position, but I have to stop myself. He had told me to sit, so my body sat obediently. It felt so good to be obedient to him.

 

What would happen next in his fantastic care?

 

 

//

 

 

 

 

I will continue if you are interested, otherwise I rest my eyes, fingers and brain.

 

Translating is a hard work, when you must let your thoughts be thrown between words from different languages and weigh in a scale to make it balance and in the meantime not loose the meaning and the message. But who is perfect?

 

It is easier to have grammar ideas if you only have one language to cling to; I have four, at the bounds of five.

  

What you read in 2 seconds or less I had to read, translated, weighed, write, reread, changed, reread, write and reread in 20 minutes or more.

 

Still, as a woman I’m driven by encouragement.

 

I thank all those nice people who had taken their time to feed me with that.

 

/Cecilita

cecilitaSv70@hotmail.com

 


Review This Story || Author: Cecilita
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