Hilda’s two Masters part 2 of 13.

Obedient I put the safety belt on and put my hands resting in my lap, as if they were prepared for a new order.

They didn’t get anymore order, then.

When he stopped the car he stepped out of it and turned his back to my again. When he heard that I had opened and closed my door he turned to the car and activated the remote-locking of the it and the car obediently answered him with a “Blipp”.

I wondered if the car felt obedient like me.

He was suddenly so nonchalant, but in an interest awakening way that my curiosity carried me away.

I followed him. His whole performance, yes his whole being sent out dominance, something that I was underfed with in the last weeks and as my whole mind longed for.

Yes, I was vulnerable in my longing for Mats and his dominance. But in this there was more of me, as a woman being taken care of and that someone paid attention to me and loved me.

He was outside of his outer door and I had to half-run to catch up with him. I didn’t know if the outer-door should automatically close after him and let me staying outside in the night. I felt some kind of panic stream from inside of me.

In all my life I have been following my heart, my feelings. If it went wrong I could easily defend myself but not so easy if I followed my intellect.

“I just followed my feeling, that’s it!” 

Now my heart spoke clearly to me:

“Follow him and see what is happening!”

My God, I don’t even know his name and I just follow as an apathetic fool.

But perhaps he doesn’t know my name either, if not Elin had told him, that is, added my thoughts.

No, he didn’t hold up the door for me so I must throw myself forwards the last step to catch it before it closed.

“Was he that uninterested in me?”

Should I really follow him if he wasn’t eager at all?

If I had been a proud woman with out of submissive feelings and longing for dominance the answered had been clear STOP!

My mind tried in suddenly attack of fury that got me almost to turn, but my heart and curiosity wan that struggle.

When the door closed behind me I heard a small tone, yes, it was probably night-locked.

My legs knew better (it would become apparent) and the followed him upstairs.

I half-run the last steps and kept up with him outside his outer door in the block of flats (apartment house).

He unlocked it and opened the door for me and I stepped inside.

Next shock! Would there be more?

On the wall straight ahead hang swords, long knifes anyway, and a very long whip that as a snake coiled itself up. I think it was 2 meters (6 feet) long or more.

Mats had also a whip that he used more as a symbol of his power. But it was small with a wooden handle and a lot of straps of leather or rubber. At one occasion he   had slapped me with it until I was red on my bottom, but he had only used his right over me.

But WHO had I followed home?

The door was now closed behind me.

Was I secured here?

Elin knew him, so he must be OK. He also knew that she was sub (submissive) because he so quickly had caught her message: “She is like me, you know!”

Had he played with her? I must ask her. I had NOT killed her, you know.

Would he kill me so OK with me, I heard myself thinking and reflected of how foolish it sounded. I don’t want to die.

- Com in here.

He called out from inside the room and I obeyed.

The room was tastefully furnished as if with a female touch. But it was also masculine arranged with big and heavy leather armchairs and a big leather sofa in dark brown. The table straight ahead gave me also a heavy impression; it had some kind of grayish blue stone top. Perhaps synthetic material, I can’t see the different anymore. Curtains and the table-cloth were tastefully and in the same nuance and were in harmony with the rest of the room. My eyes attract to colors that spoke to them.

A lot of potted plants seemed well-managed and full of life. Such is not that usually in a single man’s home.

I remember that he had told me of a girl that had broken up with him, or did I imagine that?

Was there en woman here? The question grab hold on something in side me.

- So you are sub?

He asked quite frankly.

It came so suddenly, so straight on, so manly insensitively, as it was just another daily question to another person, not a deep and very private question.

- Yes.

I answered hesitant as I didn’t really know if it was his business. But my heart told me that it was.

- OK, just so I know.

He answered.

I said something in a squeaky voice, almost inaudible and I don’t even remember it now.

- Undress, now!

I heard the commanding voice, which I had longed for in so long time. An intonation that didn’t asked what I wanted, just took for granted that I was to obey. That voice that spoke to the developing slave-girl inside of me.

I was chocked by the finding that I was not chocked by this chocking order to a girl he had just brought home. 

In want of the chock I decide to do as I was told.

I didn’t answer but my hands started to grope for the buttons at my light-brown leather coat. I took it of and returned to the hall and hang it up neatly on a hanger. All my movements were slow and dragging in my uncertainty.

I return to the same spot in the room, near the hall. My hands started to unbutton my light-brown sheer material gown.

He smiled at me in an encouragement way making my hands sliding my gown down over my shoulders and towards the floor. I felt the indoor temperature chill my back, belly, behind and legs.

I folded neatly my gown and put it on a stool beside me.

He wanted to see my body and that was a good sign of his interest. Perhaps he only played uninterested on the street and in the stair-well. But he did it with a manly nonchalance that almost scared me away.

Somewhere in my sudden feminine omniscient I felt that this man had something to offer me that would surprise me.

It was clear to me that he was dominant and that he assumed to be obeyed.

He nodded to me and my hands went to my back and opened the hook to my bra and soon my breasts were free from their shut-in feelings. Now I really felt the chili air to my almost naked body.

I’m definitely not a slut and I ought to be red in my face, but I wasn’t. It was his natural way that affected me. Sometimes you don’t know yourself, how could you know others.

As Mats’s slave-girl I had undressed in front of two men before, but this time was the first in front of a complete stranger.

It felt nice in my body, perhaps because I felt my strong obedience. I only did as he told me. He was the one who steered the whole situation. He had ordered me to undress.

(Later he told me that he with his “undress” only meant my coat, but the submissive part in me had read it in a wider way. When he explained it to me I didn’t even felt ashamed.)

Now he knew that I was sub and hopefully he also knew that I wasn’t a slut.

Yes, it felt good to show my body for his approval in this way. I know I was supposed to feel horrible, vulnerable and humiliated, but well I didn’t.

In stead I did in my head a quick inventory of my body, that body now standing before him for his inspection:

My hair is growing and I know that people like my smile, my breasts are not too big and not too small and are not too heavy, my butt has firm muscles, my waist is slim and my legs are long and especially nice in high heels. Now was my calves hidden in my high boots.

Why didn’t I take my high heels instead, when I dressed at home?  I had thought about it, but didn’t think it would matter as I didn’t want to go in the first place.

Now I had a pair of thin briefs that didn’t give me much of cover, but they made a boundary to nakedness.

He looked at me, still smiling and raised his right eyebrow in a cute way and looked down at my fabric covered private parts.

He didn’t say anything so I didn’t know what he meant but my submissive part of my brain translated it to:

“Take of your cover!”

My hands obeyed him quickly and forced my last protection over my hips and over my thighs. I quickly stepped out from them and bended over to collect them in my hand and put them under my gown at the stool.

I felt totally naked but find out that I still had my high boots on. The boots were in the same tint as my gown and the coat.

It felt now rather ridiculous to be totally naked except for the high boots. I bended to take them off but he stopped me.

- Keep them on!

It was a clear and plain order. He wanted them on. That’s it!

I stood with my hand outside my thighs. I would rather be standing in the order-position, with my legs apart, my hands behind my neck and breast out. It was in that position my Master Mats had taught me to wait for further orders, but I didn’t know how this stranger wanted me.

I remember that Mats had read about that position and many more in “Anna38 diary” on the net.  There she also taught that my eyes should be at my Master in my attention.

He watched me and again raised his eyebrow.

Directly and almost automatically I raised my hand behind my neck, moved my legs apart and checked that my elbows pointed out at my sides.

I felt my nakedness in my skin.

In the same time as I thought that this felt right and question my own behavior in a: “My God what am I doing?”

This position, the order position, was my plain way to show him (and myself) that he was now my Master, for the night. In being my Master he also had the full responsibility for my ordered actions. I didn’t even know his name.

But it also felt so right and completely natural.

I followed my feelings or a secret voice inside me and if it was all wrong then I could defend it in front of

myself. In same way it was as if my body on its on initiative obeyed his voice. Perhaps Mats’s training of it had planted in reaction that was trigged by a manly voice.

I thought of my behavior as if from a mature woman that had been slave all her life, but I had been slave girl not more then four months and seen it developed in step, from an ordinary girl to an obedient and submissive slave girl.

Almost as if he could read my thoughts that I didn’t know his name he asked:

- You know how to address me?

- Yes Master!

My answered was clear and distinct. I looked him in his eyes as I was taugh to do.

Whole my being knew it. Yes, I have accepted him as my Master, it’s a case of kill or cure. I didn’t really know if it was developed from my vulnerable situation (in my longing for Mats) or something else inside of me. I hoped for it to be my heart that was guiding me.

- In refrigerator (icebox) there are some beers. Fetch one for me! You may have one yourself, if you like.

It felt madly how easy I fell into the role and now in front of a stranger. But it also tickled every nerve in my body to act like naked slave-girl in front of the fully clothed man.

- Yes Master!

It felt nice to acknowledge his order and I went quickly out to the kitchen knowing that Mats had expected of me to run (like Anna) but I thought it was enough, in a half-way, to walk quickly. I noticed that there were not any curtains in the kitchen and I could see other windows in the block of flats outside. I was naked and I felt it if I didn’t cared. I was ordered to do this and I opened the door to the refrigerator and took one beer.

I remember Mats voice saying that a slave girl don’t eat when her Master does it, she is standing beside of him and waiting on him.

I returned to him (now quicker, as in a compromise between walk and run) with his beer. He sat in one of the leather easy chairs and I kneeled and handed him the can. He took it, opened it and started to drink.

When kneeling at his feet I felt a hit of humiliation through my body, but it didn’t last for long.

In the same second that he opened it with its “phtss” I felt that I should have done that for him. Mats had never let such a mistake pass without of criticism.

Was I on the road to be a poorer slave girl? 

A completely new and unfamiliar thought run up in my head: “I hope that my new Master will train me to be a super-slave-girl for him!”

I the same moment I felt that my heart had decided for me to stay with this new Master – if he wanted me of course. And if Mats still was refusing to take me back.

I was worry. Maybe I was for him just a one-night-stand?

Am I a momentary play-thing for men?

What if he already had a woman?

I felt despondency rise inside me. Why was I always forsaken when I thought I had found the right man?

A flashing sick thought rose up in my mind: “If his woman accepted it I could be his slave-girl anyway!”

No, of course not! Silly me!

//

If You are interest in next parts, please say so.

Translating is a hard work and as a woman I’m driven by encouragement.

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

/Cecilita

Cecilita

Hilda’s two Masters part 4 of 15

- A last question about this. I know that you have been desperate getting Mats back. If he wanted you back now, what would you answer him?

- To be honest, I don’t know any longer.  If you had asked me yesterday my answer had been a clear YES PLEASE, my body wants it but my proud ness should forbid it. Certainly I had to swallow my prod ness.

But today? OH, I honestly don’t know.

I wanted to be honest to him, though I thought that the question was unimportant and hypothetic.

I detected a little of jealousy and that felt so well.

He left the subject and we drank our coffee quietly and that felt okay. I noticed that he drank his coffee in my way, sipping and tasting. That is another plus.

His plus-side in my book began to be full and there must be some minus, even if I hadn’t got a glimpse of them yet.

His promise for me to have a good time and enjoy him scared me a bit. I wanted to show him my register of skills so I could detect if he was pleased with me or not.

But I accepted him as my Master and if he wanted another order it was up to him. It could be a parenthesis in my pleasure-giving if he ordered me to have pleasure before him.

He rose and went into the bedroom followed by me.

When he undressed himself I waited for further orders in the order-position. I felt so provocatively nice to wait in that position. I want him to steer me and it felt so calm and permissive. I looked down for a moment and saw that my tits were erected and waiting for his hands or his eyes.

If it had been the first time as usual I had been tensed and felt thousands of unknown demands, which I couldn’t identify and perhaps not met up to.

This abominable stress-spook named “First time!”

To play the role of the slave-girl is the best ticket out from that stress.

Of course I wanted it to be as its very best this first time and I wanted nothing for myself only for him, for him to be fully satisfied.

Now I took the easy way out. He was the one who had to expose his hidden sexual yearning and I had only to fulfill them.

In this way the submission and obedience become so calm and comfortable and not as some sisters are afraid of, something humiliating and hateful.

This is my simple way to look upon it.

He has already taken the lead and I let him steer. So he is responsible for everything that happens, good or bad, and I have only to obey in my full assurance that everything will be good for him and by that for me.

Suddenly I felt happiness from this wonderful order-position. It is so ticklish fantastic to outstretch my naked body knowing that he can see everything that I have to offer and that he can freely select from that offers. It is so unmasking, submissive and surrendering nice.

Now he was steering me and it was for me to be lead and obey him and I felt that I want to do that gladly.

So he went naked into the bed and at the same time he folded the quilt on the other side of the bed, patted his hand on the sheet at his left side and said shortly:

- Here!

My God how nice it was that he steered me.

I took my hands from my neck, took three quick steps forwards and crawl under the quilt. It felt cold against my naked skin, but it gave me a wonderful confirmation of my nakedness.

The gesture that he folded the guilt showed my heart that he cared for me and perhaps also took responsibility for me, I thought with my finger at the plus-side in my book. Mats would never have done that.

But I also understood that it was time for me to discover some minus on his behalf. I’m not a child that believes in fairly tails with only positive factors. By the way, some minus would actually make him human.

But I had no hurry to find them.

I took advances of my slave-girl-role and was passively waiting, as a slave-girl must do. 

I lie on my back, with my hands at the sides, with my legs close together and with my toes up under the cover. I had my head on his left arm, which rested straight out along the pillow.

He bended over me and approach my face with his. We kissed on his initiative. I responded to his kiss and when I felt his tongue in my mouth my tongue met it.

I was very careful to let him take every initiative. It also felt so relaxing and nice. It was so passive and relaxing and so without of responsibility and consequence, to just obey and be led.

He had so clearly taken over the lead that there was no risk that my passivity could be misjudged. I was his slave-girl now. He had told me to call him Master or Master Micke, with that he had accepted the leader-role. I could calmly push that first-time-spook away and go into my obedient slave-girl role.

He would in his role steer all events, small as big. In that way only those thing would happen that he wanted, nothing else. I wanted to be enjoyable for him and in exactly the way he wanted it. If I wait until he ordered me, I also knew that it was exactly at his will. He knew the most of my female assets so it was for him to pick and choose, but in a commanding tone. 

It all was so wonderful and stimulating and felt nice in my waiting body. All normal expectations were securely put to zero and I had to wait for his initiative and then obey. I hoped that he also felt this magic moment like I did.

He took my right hand and guided it under the cover to his cock. My hand obeyed him and grabs hold of it. It was hard, hard as steel. How could he be so hard so quickly after his last release? That was a good omen.

There was no way that it could consist of flesh and blood, as hard as it was, but still soft in the skin and pulsating warm and nice. I noticed myself that my tongue outside my will moved in licking movement on his tongue. But he must have noticed that I captured his tongue and enclosed it carefully with my lips in the same time as my tongue searched over its tip in a barely touching movement, as if……

I took no initiative, only a female discreet insinuation of a suggestion. A secure and familiar longing I had.

As I lie on his left arm he turned his hand to my head and gave me a super-light, but distinct push in back of my head.

Mostly girls would not understand that body sign, but a slave-girl does and I rose quickly and dive under the cover.

Within two seconds I had captured his cock again and now directly between my longing lips and suck-concentrated mouth.

Jesus, how nice to have a warm and demanding cock surrounded by my lips and let the tongue inspect and caress it.

//

BTW: This signal to me becomes his “suck-order” for me in the future. As soon as he touches the back of my head in a distinct push I throw myself down and took care of his cock with my mouth. It was he who must take responsibility for it, if the situation, the place and the surrounding were right. And soon I knew that I would do it in a middle of a gathering of people if he touched the nape of my head in a distinct push.

I noticed that he avoided to accidentally touching that place on my body. At some occasions he tested me, but interrupted it before my rapidity had caused general offence.

When I felt his responsibility and care for me I didn’t even look around.

It becomes a game, a test between us and it was a very nice game and a thrilling challenge of his responsibility, but also of my blind obedience. I can’t explain how nice it felt to just obey him. I had not to think that was his department.

At one of his obedient tests he put a blindfold on me head and lead me fully dressed in to a room, passing several rooms.

I heard many people there and assume it was an ongoing party as I heard voices all around me, discussing and talking.

He stood before me and suddenly I felt that touch in the back of my neck with that little push that was agreed. Without of any hesitation I kneel before him, open up his fly. I was not hesitating but just a little slow, so he could stop me if he wanted to. As no contra-order came I took hold of his cock, took it out, opened my mouth and started the oral stimulation (fellatio). I felt humiliated as the voices continued and now with an “Oh dear!” and “I say!” from different directions around me.

I decided to ignore it. I was his slave-girl and I had only to obey him, he had the whole responsibility for my actions. It felt so good and it ticklish my private parts a lot.

I felt in this a strong solidarity with him.

I heard his voice again:

- Stop!

And as soon as I obeyed him, still kneeling, I almost froze at his next command:

- Naked!

At that order I must at lightning speed undress and become nude. With a clear thought of “I don’t care if he say so!”, I rose and started to undress as quickly and effective as I could. Within two minutes I put myself in order-position completely nude with voices all around me.

As I heard other “Oh!”-word around me I felt a sting of humiliation that directly subdued by my obedience and slave-girl feelings.

He let me stand in that vulnerable position for several minutes and I only felt that I was his slave-girl.

I started to wonder how many of this people that would recognize me tomorrow, perhaps think of me as a slut or simply Micke’s mindless slave-girl. Some men would possibly think of me in the superlative and envy Michael his resource of pleasure.

Suddenly all the voices fall silent.

His hands released the blindfold and he tock it away.

- Very good girl. You passed the test, very good, very good. You are in deed an obedient slave-girl.

I looked around me and suddenly all the people was gone. We were the only people in the room and the door was closed.

He explained that we were in an Audio-room, that he had borrowed from en friend. The room had loudspeakers all around and was used to simulate f ex crowds.

I felt a little cheated but melted when he shower me with praise.

He had not only the responsibility, he had also the right to test my obedience in any way he wanted, I thought quietly. 

I didn’t know then that he would use this right on the limit to the absolutely ness.

There had never been any real people in the room, only their voiced, recorded somewhere else, but it fooled me and probably anyone.

I felt secure in that I obeyed him blindly and slavishly and that was the main thing. I liked the ticklish nice feeling in my stomach and in my slave-girl backbone.

What was more important was my confidence in him that he had built up day after day.

//

If you are interest in next parts, please say so.

Translating is a hard work and as a woman I’m driven by encouragement. I’m stealing time from other tasks.

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

/Cecilita

Hilda s two Masters part 5 of 15

After a short while he rose and said:

- On your back!

"Yes Master!"

I turned over to my back.

- Your legs apart!

My legs flew apart obediently and seconds after he entered my vagina. I was wet enough but I noticed that he hadn’t touched me with his hands. The body contact was when he forced himself in me with a cock that was so hard, that I would believe it was a dummy if I hadn’t taste it with my lips before.

I gave him a welcoming and gentle stroke over his back and squeezed around him with my vaginal muscles to make it feel happy in there. I aimed at many more visits from him in the future, as often as he wanted. I felt that in my whole body.

He pushed so deep and hard into my vagina that I for a moment thought that I would split in half. I could hear myself whimper in a miserably way at the same time that I enjoyed that whole thing.

He was much bigger and harder than Mats. I detected a completely mad thought in my head: “Had I swapped for the better, after all?”

The hard cock took exactly that space it needed and my vaginal muscles adjusted them self obediently after its need of space.

It was also long and when he pushed I could feel my hypogastria give way. It felt indescribably nice!

He increased his pace and I thought I would split in half but my body automatically answered him with the first women-movements in the history. It is built into our bodies to act out automatically when we have an man in our bodies. I think.

(The most important one, according to my brother!)

He built up an orgasm inside of me that I couldn’t remember that I had been in vicinity before in my life.

Perhaps it was developed by the whole situation, I don’t know for sure, but it was present and real to me. 

Mats had trained me in that I couldn’t cum without of his permission so an inner obedient deadlock made me wait and wait.

I had tried to force my orgasm back time after time but only to feel it returning with its double force. I clearly understood that I wouldn’t make another effort of holding back.

- Master, May I cum, please?

He loose pace for a moment. I thought that he was surprised, but he took hold of his Master role.

- Yes cum! Cum for me!

I obey him, my body obeyed him and my incredible orgasm obeyed him. I orgasm as I never had done before in my life, in wave after wave as if there was no end to it.

Far away I heard myself screaming out every wave, as I felt them rinse over my body. It wouldn’t stop, neither would I.  I was convinced that I would lose my mind if it kept going on, but I didn’t.

He looked down to my face and I saw how sweat dropped from his fore-head and fell down to my breast.

- Inhale!

He ordered.

I looked at him and understood. I took a deep breath and I felt in my chest that it was long time since the earlier. Had I kept my breath without of knowing it?

He was still bone-hard inside of me and my squeezing muscles during my orgasms had not made it better.

He withdraw himself and I screamed out loud in protest, as a little baby loosing its comforter (pacifier).

- No please. I want you to cum as well!

He didn’t answer me but roll of me and lie down on the bed at his back. The hard cock was still standing aslant upwards and nodding in the pace of his pulse.

I felt like a slave-girl good-for-nothing. He hadn’t orgasm and it was my fault.

If I had known him better I had begged him to spank me, punish me as my bad conscience demanded, but I was quiet and cry instead.

I cried out of bad conscience, of not bringing him to an orgasm, of happiness that I found him but also of dread of loosing him. But most of all in fear of that he wouldn’t find me sufficiently enjoyable for him.

I must exert myself more. I wasn’t ready to give him up.

My earlier conviction that he was the boss and also responsible for what was happening in the room and I had only to follow his order, wasn’t calming me any longer. I had to put my back into this.

But the tears built also up gratefulness to him and I felt a sudden delirium of joy, an inner and super-nice intoxication.

- I’m so sorry Master. Please forgive me!

A slave-girl mustn’t take her own initiative, I know, but I broke my trained and accepted rule and throw my body to the footboard and leaned over his cock. I was inconsolable at my failure to make him cum. I was also ready to take any punishment he seemed fair, for my unforgivable own initiative.

Sobbing I started to massage and stimulate it with my tongue and lips and didn’t care that it had been inside of my and was sticky and slimy by its visit there. It wasn’t important now.

At the same time I understood that it was my vagina that it was lacking and the closest I could offer in this position and at my forbidden initiative was my throat, deep throat.

First I licked at it and gave it a lot of saliva.

I tock a deep breath, relaxed my throat and pushed my head over the cock. It hurt and strained, but it slide down my throat and when it had passed the lock I started to swallow and massage it with my swallowing muscles deep down there.

My slave-girl-mind is always scanning my Masters every output-signals and I heard him grunt contentedly and felt his hand at the back of my head as if he wanted it to stay down there.

His will is my law and the air had to be enough, even if I would die in my efforts. He must have his pleasure at any coast.

- Bloody Hell!

Far away I heard him swear out his enjoyment. Just before I must pass out I raised my head and breathe as a mad woman. Very soon the slave-girl inside of me thought that it was enough of air so a dive again and let it slide down directly in the deep.

Already in its sliding to the depth I felt him releasing himself at its ride. I pushed it all the way down there and let it glide up and down in its second vagina. My lips was deep into his pubic hair.

It gave me a little resistance every time it passed the lock but it went more and more easy and it didn’t hurt anymore. I also massage it with my lips and my tongue on its returns.

When it was slackening I let it stay in my oral cavity and took care of it with my tongue and lips, slowly and prudently. It released more sperm that I swallowed almost greedily.

I thought of Anna, who consider it is her reward and I felt it really in the same way, his sperm was my reward.

My new Master, was damned nice. I had enticed him to cum.

I lie there and let tongue and lips most carefully caress his sensitiveness.

Mats had taught me that a real slave-girl never let her Master’s cock leave her mouth before she is ordered to do so, “Even if it would take all night!”

Night! I had no idea what time it was, but it had started to grow light outside.

In this moment I was prepared to let it stay in my mouth as long as he wanted it there. He was on his back and I had his whole cock in my mouth and only tried it with my tongue from time to time, letting my thought fly. Now it was easier when he was still big but soft.

I couldn’t believe that his whole length had found room in my mouth and throat. Or am I big-mouthed?

- Do you want to be my slave-girl? I mean for ever?

//

If you are interest in next parts, please say so.

Translating is a hard work and as a woman I’m driven by encouragement. I have to steal time from other tasks.

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

/Cecilita

Hilda’s two Masters part 6 of 15

- Do you want to be my slave-girl? I mean for ever?

It came suddenly. I didn’t know anything about him, if we are well suited to each other, if I suited to him and it he suited to me. I had only seen some of his qualities, certainly positive. I wasn’t born yesterday, there must be negative as well.

I have to follow my heart as usually.

“Do you want to be my slave-girl?” it echoed in the room and in my ears. Unanswered.

I saw in my girlish mind a black and white picture of a man kneeling before his fiancé and asking: “Will you married me?” 

It is just so romantic a girl wants it.

But a man who wants a slave-girl, how does he do it?

He wasn’t at his knee, but I was and I had also his dearest body part in my mouth and caressed it carefully with my tongue and lips, as a little as a pre-answer to my delayed reply.

-*-

“Do you want to be my slave-girl?” was still ringing inside my head and I hadn’t answered my Master. It felt like ten of thousands of seconds had passed. Every second was a heavy stone on my head. It didn’t help that my tongue stroke gentle of his glans. He wanted an answer.

Why? My heart didn’t hesitate. I had not got any order to let his cock leave my mouth, but I understood that was a lame excuse and when he expected an answer from my mouth it was the same as an order to open it for an answer.

- Yes I will!

I answered him looking him straight in his eyes to really confirm my answer.

Then I let my mouth return to his marvelous cock and I really felt like a good slave-girl.

- I mean really. I want you in a 24/7.

He added and looked suddenly grave, but soon his invitingly smile returned in the corner of his mouth. My mouth was busy with another and self-imposed tasks than giving smiling signals.

But I lifted my head to answer and then dive again.

- Yes Master, I mean that too.

- I know many that write slave-contracts but I want one step better. I want a deed of gift at your body and mind so that you don’t regret it and leave me. I don’t want to loose this pearl that Fortune let me found. Elin will get a kiss, if you don’t mind?

- May I let it leave my mouth, Master?

I asked with his cock partly inside my now opened mouth. I could barely understand my words, with it still in my mouth.

 But he did and I felt so obedient and good when I asked for it.

- By all means! Yes, you may!

Wonderful!

I thought.

* here is a gay that know what he wants. 

“I don’t want to loose this pearl that Fortune let me found!”

That was my reply!  I also felt that my inner happiness washed away every trace of hate to Elin.

- Kiss her all you want and give her a kiss from me at the same time.

- You’ll do that yourself!

It felt like an order.

- Yes Master!

I answered obedient and wonder about how I could do that. Girls wasn’t my cup of tea. But an order is an order so I had to make it happen I one way or another. Must I kiss her on hr lips?

He had told me to kiss her. I kiss with my lips but it must not necessarily be on her lips. I warn him to be careful about what and how he orders me; I will translate it straight and do as he says.

He wants a deed-gift on my body and soul, my pleasure! He will have it and it will bind me for ever to serve him and be close to him. I suppose that such a deed-gift also binds him to me.

- Good!

- Do you want me to write it right away, Master?

- Yes, if you want to.

- I want that, Master.

- Are you sure that you don’t want time for consideration?

I thought: * Time for considerations is always wise and never wrong.  But to follow my heart is always easier for me to defend.

I wanted to tie him up to me as much as I wanted to be tied to him.

Then I couldn’t regret it! It causes a ticklish feeling in my stomach.

- Yes, I want to write it now, Master! Do you have paper and a pen, Master?

He went up and fetched a paper and a ball pen and gave me sign to leave the bed. I felt obedient when I stayed until he allowed me to go up. Wonderful!

Naked I sat down at his dining-room-table and started to write on the paper.

Jesus, what am I doing?

No, no foolish consideration now. I will write it now!

I had never done this before, but my thought was to write after my heart and then he had to correct it if he doesn’t like it.

I already thought of him as my Master and me as his slave-girl.

I had worked  on a short temporary post as typist at a firm of solicitors and had a little of the formal and boring text inside my head.

§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§

DEED GIFT.

Subject: Hilda Johansson (security number, address) below called slave-girl.

Recipient: Michael Strömberg (I had to ask him of his whole name, security number and address) below called Master.

Hereby surrender I, Hilda my self, my person, my body to Michael Strömberg, to be his personal property.

Slave-girl give up her right to decide over her own body and her personal belongings and hand over that right to her Master.

Master owns slave-girl totally and pledges herself to not act without his permission.

Slave-girl is his complete slave to do with what ever I like in a 24/7 relation.

Master promises to take care of and preserve his property.

Slave-girl may never deny performing an order and she must always act with feeling and love.

Master has the right to punish his slave-girl at his whim.

 --------

Hilda and Michael has both the right to annul this deed-gift, (contract) with three months' notice.

The annulations must be written down on this side of the document with date and name. 

Honestly!

………………….

Hilda Johansson

I accept the gift of the slave-girl and the agreement.

…………………………

Michael Strömberg

Annulations, unilateral.

………………………………………………………………

§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§

When I was done I handed the paper over to Michael, who stood over me when I write it, for his approval and possible alterations.

This was only my main points.

If he would protest against annulations I would explain that if works out between us I would gladly write a new contract without of the word annulation’s. Annulation’s was instead of “time for consideration”. I wanted to follow my heart and throw myself straight into this without of any other safety net than the annulation’s.

Three month! WHOW! So nice and ticklish in my whole body.

Sometimes it is wonderful to be crazy in a temporary let-go way.

But my common sense and my heart had a battle to my hearts advantage.

My God, what am I doing? I’m giving my will and myself away to a man that i had known in just hours.

Am I crazy or am I crazy?

I know that I’m mentally vulnerable after Mats has left me, but to take the very first man. This man had whips and long knifes inside his entrance hall as a generally warning to anyone.

My common sense send out alarm waves that flashed around me as flashlights.

I must be mad that handed over me to a stranger at his beck and call. To pass over my body, that detected a ticklish feeling in my clitoris, so strong that I wanted to put down my hand to relieve the itch. But I didn’t. 

I even ponder over asking him if a may, but that dishonor question didn’t leave my lips.

My heart persisting that giving me away to this man was the right thing to do. If I don’t dare I can’t win. It felt so damned nice in my body to do it. Now I was able to experience how it felt to be a slave-girl in the real world. It felt as if my play with Mats had only been pretending. Now it was serious.

I really shuddered at the thought of it. 

Will be continued

Cecilita

Hilda’s two Masters part 9 of 15

HILDA:

**Flashback **Flashback **Flashback **Flashback

** Flashback at my life with Mats:

(You will soon understand why I will show this, which now after my deed-of-gift, is history. I feel a so wonderful loyalty to the deed-of-gift.)

Mats free me from worries and fear for future and took the responsibility for my whole life.

I had never had any orgasm before I met Mats and didn’t even know what it was. When the “big girls” was talking about it as a natural thing in life, I was quiet and in shame.

But as soon as Mats and I played Master-slave-games I felt it coming. And I had my very first orgasm after a week-end as Mats total slave-girl and when I had to give his one orgasm after another. In his bed he made love to me and I felt it rising inside of me and out.

My first orgasm followed by many, but only after our games and they follow the degree of difficultly of his demand on me. He was the Master not only over my body and my mind but also over my orgasms.

He had no difficulties to find bad and difficult orders for me to obey.

At one occasion when he and I visit his friend Erik at his home and after that they had had some glass of whisky he suddenly ordered me to undress. Use to follow his orders I obeyed and stood soon naked in front of them. He raised his eyebrows and I took quickly the order-position. I was humiliated when I felt Erik’s eye searching over my naked and unprotected body in this position. But I must admit that also affected other nerves in my mind in a more stimulating way. After he had showed my body in different positions I was allowed to dress again, but then I didn’t care. I could as well be naked as there was nothing more for Erik so see.

When we were home I received my very best orgasm.

During the last month has sex between Mats and me being more and more objective, as I see it.

It was as if his orgasms and sperm-releases only was a short everyday event with out of any relation to feelings at all.

In the beginning it made me sad but I was forced to accept it. I was his slave-girl. I was overwhelmed by gratefulness to Mats, who had lifted all the awful decisions from my shoulders that had terrorized me before. I had been very close to a nervous breakdown until he released me from it and took all the decisions for me. I was grateful.

To make my mind more accepting he had me on my knees before him and repeating loudly:

“Master, I’m your slave and my only mission in life is your pleasure and your enjoyment. Beyond that I’m nothing!”

I had to repeat this one hundred times.

It sunk into my mind so I thought just like that. This was also much of what I wanted, but I also wanted something else as well.

My orgasms were not that common any longer, but now I knew were to search it and what aroused it.

I could always kneel before Mats and beg him to let me masturbate on the floor before him and when he decided it, let me cum. It was not humiliating any longer.  

When Mats broke up with me I had no other thought in my head more than only he was the one who had pleasure. I was extremely unhappy that I couldn’t be there to release him when he wanted it. Gladly as his sex-toy if I only could be near him.

Sex with Mats had grown to be so exact, everyday and objective and he wanted it that way. I must with my body release him in that way he chooses. I must give the maximal of feelings, eagerness, technique and devotion to work up to a release for him and then it was over.

Then I had to go back to my everyday tasks or to that I was doing when he interrupt me for his urgent release.

I had to be his sperm-release-doll or sperm-sucker that was at duty when ever he wanted and needed it.

And that I did. I also learn to accept that it was half-way okay, but not 100% okay. For that he must put in more training for me and more depressing by him.

Often he actually used the words: “sperm-bucket”, “sperm-releasing-doll”, “sperm-sucker” when he called me, but he did it with a smile, as if humor deleted the humiliating addressing.

His view of me as a sperm-releasing-doll made he clearly when he had me naked and on my back at the floor before him, with my knees up to my arm-pits, hand under my neck and with my mouth invitingly open.

He called it that he had me parked in waiting-position.

Another parking-position was that he let me stand in order-position, that he loved, in hour after hour. My body felt rigid and funny and every muscle ached after three hours in the same position. It made me long for his used of my body for his pleasure, so I was released from parking. When he then called me my gratitude felt no limits and neither did my efforts for his pleasure. As long as he enjoyed me, he would not have me parked.

He could also watch TV or read and have me kneeling slantingly to not block his TV-view. My knees must be much parted, hands behind my neck, mouth open and tongue outstretched in my waiting for his use of me.

My knees ached, but worse was that my tongue and mouth went dry. When I complained he allowed me to withdraw my tongue to moisten it and then out again.

Some time he vary it so I had in the same stretched position put my tongue and then withdraw it and then out again. Out and in, out and in, until he thought it was enough.

“Your tongue is a muscle and muscles must be trained to be useful!” he meant.

An active parking was that I had to kneel and sit with my bottom at my calves and my face in his crutch and lick him over his scrotum and down over his sleeping cock. Lick, lick, lick and lick in endlessness.

This so called active parking he could vary by that I instead had to lie on my back and with my face under him, where he sat at the front edge of the stool.

I had to raise my head and support my upper part of my body by my elbows and from underneath lick at his hanging scrotum. Sometimes he watched my face and directed my use of the tongue for his pleasure.

All the parking-postures had only one purpose, that I should wait for his use of me and also that I must lie so my body stimulated his eyes to give signals to his cock.

Still I loved him and needed him for my well-being.

After that Mats had read Anna’s diary on the net more thoroughly he also started to wake me up in the night when he felt for it.

We were in the same bed. I had always to sleep naked (except for a few days in month when a pair of briefs was allowed). When he called out my name I had to run up from the bed and stand in the order-position as it was expected from a real slave-girl. I had to wait for him to decide how he wanted to enjoy me. As he was lazy it was mostly I who must do the work with my mouth and he who could lie on his back and enjoy my caressing and massaging tongue.

When he had released himself in my mouth and the following cleaning he could just go back to sleep and recharge for a new repetition hours later.

It sometimes woke my strong feelings but I had to learn to reduce them and try to see it his way:

“It was only his release that was important and then go back to sleep.”

Some times he wanted to enter me and I had to sit over him, steer him into my vagina and do my movements.

Often he fell into sleep again, often during my cleaning of him but sometimes during the act. I had to keep on the movements until he slackens out of my vagina.

One night I asked him if I was allowed to pleasure myself. He mumbled a”Yes” and went to sleep again.

It was so humiliating to lie in the same bed as a man and caress myself to an half orgasm. I wanted it, but must be careful that I didn’t disturb his sleep.

Some nights, when he woke me up and when I had taken the order-position, I saw that he was flat on his stomach and had one leg bended at the knee. I understood that my tongue must ticklish his back-yards and I assumed always right.

He had in a flash of humanity decided that if he fell to sleep during the bottom-wash with my tongue I had to count to 100 and then go back to bed, if he didn’t awoke.

I had accepted this full-time duty for his release and then nothing more as a way of living, but also in exchange that he took all the decision for me and I had no worries and no irresolution. It also released warmth feelings inside of my slave-girl-brain.

In all I get on well with my slave-girl-role. To be slave-girl gave me so wonderful feelings inside that I almost bought the whole package of the insensitive sexual-releasing-duty.

Yes, something deep inside of me was pleased by the treatment of being a sperm-sucker, releasing-doll and sex-toy. I know that hundreds of thousands of women all over the world lives in that role and had accepted it. Also that they seek it themselves if they loose it.

I mostly feel happy, perhaps that I have noticed that the slave-girl is there deep inside of me. And that the role itself triggers and appeal to me. There could be something wrong with me but I like the word and the content of the word sex-toy, something for a man to play with for his sexual enjoyment, not for hers.

No, when I had some time-distance I wondered if Mats perhaps started to become tired of me long before I understood it. Perhaps it was for my own longing for perpetual oral service and because he had reduced me to a sperm-releasing-doll and there was no further development in me, for me.  He always got exactly what he wanted from me and had no need to struggle for anything. I knew that Mats was a person who likes competing and he had none in me.

After that he tried to humiliate me in front of his friend but I constantly and blindly obeyed his every order and I think that he loose his interest in me. What ever he ordered I did without of any hesitation.

To be his sperm-releasing-doll and sex-toy seems to speak to my own view of myself. My only value was to be as enjoyable and as obedient slave-girl for my Master as possible.

******* BACK TO MASTER MICKE ******* 

That was way of thinking and that experience I had with me in my luggage to my new Master. I didn’t know if he wanted me as his sex-toy, but if he did I was prepare to be that as well. Sometimes I wonder if men prefer this type of women, which never had any demands on them and always are ready to release them in the way the wanted and then back to zero, a waiting-level until the where needed next time for the same task or another.

It was Saturday morning and it was light out side.

- Will you arrange breakfast? I’ll go and shower.

It was a kind question, not an order. The slave-girl in me had preferred an order.

- Yes Master.

I answered to stress that he was my Master and it was he who decided what I must do. It felt so good.

I smiled for myself when I took out the coffee packet, ZOEGAS and noticed that he had left it in tin so it shouldn’t loose its taste, as I did myself.

- He must be a good man, anyway a man with good taste.

I spoke to myself.

I had completely exposed myself, handed me over to a complete stranger. My heart had guided me, but anyway. I’m walking around in his apartment and he can anytime return from the shower and order me to do anything he wants and I had to obey him. And I will obey him blindly. I felt a shivering through my whole body, yes actually down into my toes.

When he returned from the shower had a similar silk dressing gown but now in dark green colors. My slave-girl-eyes were on his crutch and I saw the contour of his cock in a half erected state.

I felt sudden disappointed, I wanted him to be turned on all the time but I forced me thoughts to accept that the man had to rest between his arousals.

When I heard him coming I lived into my role as slave-girl and put myself in order-position, naked and waiting for his initiative.

- Yes Master!

I didn’t forget the verbal submission and it felt so good.

I had spread the little rectangular kitchen table in unpainted pinewood and with its blue table-cloth that had its four corners pointing to every sides of the table. The vase with its three red tulips stood beside the wall. I had to see him when we eat and I would want to take the flowers away from the table. I love flowers, every flower. It gives me a nice picture of life.   

- Yes, we can eat inside today but I usually eat at the balcony as long as the weather allowed it. I rather have my outdoor clothes and sit outdoor even if it is cold.

- Master I can move it outside if you want to.

- No, we eat inside today, he decided firmly.

- Yes Master!

- There is cornflakes in larder, fetch them and to plates and spoons.

I like him ordering me around.

- Yes Master, I’m sorry Master.

- You couldn’t have known that I eat cornflakes in the morning. But now you do, don’t ever miss it in the future.

- No Master, I want to learn how you want it and I’m very eager to learn Master.

I fetched it.

- Master, do you want me to stand and wait at the table?

He didn’t answer but sat down at his chair and sign for me to sit down.

I obeyed of course and we ate in silence, a silence that I didn’t like, but evidently he did and that was the norm in his apartment. I had to adjust.

I was thinking of the balcony the next morning and felt a subject for a question, which triggered my slave-girl-nerve. Was I to be naked on the balcony? It also broke the terrible silence.

- Master, may I speak?

- Yes!

- Do you want me naked on the balcony or should I dress in some way, Master?

I asked as humble as possible to hide any feeling of what I wanted. Truthfully I didn’t care. If he wanted me naked I had to show my naked body to anyone who could see it. That was his business, not mine. I felt like a real slave-girl in handling the decision to him.

- As the balcony is in full view from the opposite house you will wear a dressing gown, but be naked underneath.

- Yes Master!

When he had finished his breakfast he sat sipping his coffee and I smiled inside. I use to do the same, save my coffee and sip at it in the meantime as I let my brain recover, as I called it. There was more for the plus-side in my book.

- So you are my slave-girl now. You are my property that I can do what ever I like to, nice! Really nice!

- Yes Master. I can feel that in my body now.

- I have painted up this scenery in my fantasy, in details. I will have you running for me, I can promise you that.

- Thank you Master. I promise to be very obedient, good and quick to learn. And I will be quick in my feet as well, Master.

- You better!

He answered in English and I knew that it meant: “If not, I had to blame myself for the consequence.”

- I promise to be good.

- You better!

He repeated and I felt that there was a threat in it, a thrilling and nice threat.

- Master, you have to teach me how you want me and that am how I will be for you. If you want I can be your sex-toy, Master.

In a way a regretted the sex-toy-thing but it felt so thrilling to offer it. I knew the signification for it as it had been trained into my back-bone.

- Yes, is that what you want to be, so why not. You will be my own private sex-toy in day and night service.

Oh no, but yes, I thought quietly, another man who wants to be released in the nights. I had been such a great sleeper, but Mats had trained me to be super-alert when he woke me up in the night.

Some inner wish had me to offer myself as a sex-toy so now there was no return. He could had my as that anyway if he wanted, but I had suggested it and he had accepted. I deep nerve inside of me wanted to see myself as a sex-toy. I both love and hate that word.

Further more it was nice to be prepared for him day and night. I had felt that way for Mats and I would much more feel in that way for my new Master.

- Yes Master.

I answered him with a smile on my lips and an inner longing for serve this man and let him enjoy me as much as possible. I felt that I had absolutely no limits, as well as I wasn’t allowed to have any limits.

- It is good.

- Master, do you want me to suck you now?

- I think that you not really had comprehended the role of being a slave-girl. It is your Master who takes all initiative, but of course you must be allowed to suggest.

He corrected himself as he spoke, another plus in my book.

- Yes Master!

I didn’t really know how to answer him. I had just suggested it for him to enjoy me, not any pleasure for my self, or……

- OK. I accept your suggestion. SUCK!

I noticed again that he used the command-word and that was nice an easy for me.

- Yes Master!

As he moved his stool a little backwards and turned it sideway and sat as gays do, with his leg parted, I rose and move up to him. I kneeled between his legs. His dressing gown had slide apart and his proud cock was waiting for my treatment.

One thing was very clear to me; I had to develop myself to not have routine in my relation with my new Master. I believe that there is a risk that a Master loses his interest in his slave-girl, who fill all his demands for pleasure and not have new pleasures in store for him.

I remember how smart the slave-girl in the story “Thousand and one night” was as she kept her Master’s interest up night after night. I must be that smart.

A slave-girl must renew herself and keep his interest at its absolute top. In the same time she obeys him in all his demands and fulfill all his inventions of pleasure, she must make him keep his interest for her as a slave-girl.

It felt very much like balancing on a slack rope, a very slack and swinging rope. But I will manage it!

My mouth, tongue and lips started obediently its task. I had only to start my tongue’s caressing movements and then it kept on going for itself.

But I tasted him also. He tasted good. I put my soul into giving him a nice time. I wanted for him to think that I was very enjoyable. I would rather die that he lost his interest for me as his slave-girl and woman.

I got quickly a receipt on that he liked my oral massage.

I think that I had him squirt into my mouth in less than a minute. I was prepared to work 15 minutes or more, it was not that long since his last release. Perhaps he had started to long for my mouth in the shower.

I swallowed his sperm and used a while to clean him with my tongue and lips.  I felt for a real scrupulous and prolonged cleaning work as a little reward for the short time. When I couldn’t prolonged it more I looked up into his face and felt like a loyal and obedient puppy, on my knees before him. 

He had me return to my stool and started to sip the rest of the coffee and looked meditative. I sat quiet and waiting, it was he who took the initiative, as he told me.

Yes, I recognized it from Mats world. His release was over and done with and back to the everyday.  That was the way men were, I thought with a little sigh.

- Master, may I ask a question?

I asked as humble as it was required of a real slave-girl.

- Yes!

- Master, if you don’t think that I’ve a sufficiently nice mouth I suggest that you send me to the Subligan’s pleasure-school, where they teach all the techniques.

- It was good that you suggested it, but I don’t think that they had anything to teach you. I’m more than pleased with your fellatio-arts.

My God, so nice praise, it streamed warming through my body. I felt sure of myself again and happy.

- Master, if you want me to be a real perfect slave-girl you can send me to study at Anna’s place. She had had some courses.     

I didn’t really now why I said it. Perhaps I was embarrassed at all the praise.

- It is good that you suggested that also, but you see I’m the type of Master that prefers to train my slave-girl myself. In that way you will be like I want you and it also a great part of the pleasure.

I noticed that he said “my slave-girl” and not “my slave-girls” and that made me happy. I couldn’t pass the fact that I was a little jealous of his earlier life, the women and possible slave-girls, though I knew that it was not my business. He owned me and I didn’t own him.

Even if he had had a slave-girl before I must be the very best he had ever had. I could fight like a tiger for that position.

It wasn’t hard. It was only to obey and it would be divinely nice to obey him blindly. Just to do as he ordered me and without if thinking, just acting. To think was his business, not mine.

I couldn’t explain the different between my obedience and another girl’s obedience. Somewhere it must be as easy for her as for me.

It felt so miraculous relaxing to be his slave-girl. I felt no demands or expectations; I had only in every second do as he told me. He had clearly stressed that I may not take any initiative, as his slave-girl, just obey. It was in line with my point of view and it would please me to obey this directive.

Prognoses, considerations and decisions, to not speak of every decision-anxiety was a slave-girls always released from. He had all the responsibility.

I had a strong longing for him to really test my obedience and its limits, if there were any. I doubt it!

Will be continued.

Cecilita

Hilda’s two Masters part 10 of 20

Hilda:

During the silent in the room my brain started to think about the deed-of-gift. I felt a funny mixture of panic and happiness.

In fractions of a second I wanted to raise and run out from his apartment, just fly.

But it vanished quickly and was replaced by a complete sense of happiness over the knowledge of being this man’s complete slave-girl. I was now his property to do with what he liked, wow!

And I’ve done it by my own will, well, that will I had left since I had handed over my will to him. If I wouldn’t fulfill the contract he had the full right to blame me.

For him and me the deed-of-gift was valid, even if the society around us didn’t accept it.

My heart applauds my signing the deed-of-gift, but my common sense was not that convinced.

I wanted to have him as my Master and I wanted to be his slave-girl. Now I had to accept it all the way.

I had for many years known that I wanted to write a slave-girl-contract and it confused me. Why is a person signing those, instead of being a slave-girl when the mood came over her and that’s it?

For me, I think, it is a rest from my childhood blackmail, when I was blackmailed to suck a boy off.

On my knees in his garage I felt mentally bound, force to submit to his will, even when the task he “ordered” me made me revolt into absolute panic and I had to take hold of myself and obey him.

When you are physically bound by rope or chains you are restrained in a certain way, but when you are mentally bound, with your arms and legs free, but forced by an event that you must avoid to any price.

(In my childish case it was that my mother would know that I had stolen apples.)

Then you find that that price is you submission and you feel almost as a slave-girl who has nowhere to turn and from nowhere to get help, she has only one way forward and that is to obey.

Parts deep in my mind experience that blackmailing force overwhelming and it created so wonderful feelings inside of me that it must be repeated to any cost for me.

I soon found, in my sexual fantasies, that I could catch that feeling best when I felt that my Master in the room was almighty, his orders could not be refused, called in question, valued, delayed or appeal against. He was manly strong and I could not even use my female art of seduction to make him change is mind. I had just to obey him.

He was to be sign the right to do with me what ever comes into his head, but before that I must be very careful in my selection of Master, and not as now just let my heart decide for me.

So my sexual fantasies challenge my mind to sign a slave-girl contract, that mentally bound me and from which I couldn’t be free, even when my mood changed, I was trapped.

I was trapped to obey a man in all his moods and whims, just blindly obey him and with no hesitation, but with eager and willingness. He must own, not only my body, but also my will, eagerness, willingness and lust. He also must own my orgasm and that felt very exciting, to not be allowed to decide over that private bodily reward.

My wondering was abrupt by his voice:

- Do you want a 24/7 relation?

- Yes Master. Yes please Master.

- Do you want to work at your workplace?

- Yes, please Master, if it is okay with you.

- You may continue, but as short time as possible. Do you have one month’s notice?

- Yes Master, I think so.

- Okay. You give your notice and stay there as long as you must. Then you will stay home and manages the house and be my slave-girl in 24/7.

- Yes Master!

I had hope for to not go to work in the morning and to run his house instead and now he allowed that. In his distinct orders I found that he care for me.

- As my slave-girl you must have rules for your every-day work at home.

- Yes Master! Of course, Master.

- But I think it is better that you learn the rules and routines in the order they will be needed. It is easier for you to learn them that way.

- Yes Master. Thank you, Master!

//

When I came to my workplace my boss said that I had roses on my cheeks and that he noticed that I had my old humor after a time of depression. It was positive, he said.

- You have probably found a new boar! He said.

By not scream NO, as I otherwise had done, I felt that I in silence confirm his statement.

But BOAR is it a male pig, a male chauvinist pig?

Perhaps he was right, without of knowing the fact.

I wanted really my new Master to be a spoiled male, a chauvinistic pig, my pig, my Master. And I smiled.

I belonged to him now and he owned me. If he forbids anything I must obey in the same way that I must obey his orders. To be own by a man is mega more than a simple marriage.

Perhaps Sonja, who is a member of the women’s liberation movement, also wanted to be own and to own. She stress often: “My husband!” as if she owned him. My man! Wow, how about: “My Master!”

Perhaps a deed-of-gift works in both directions?

I put in soft gingerbread biscuits on its place on its shelf in the shop. When I was ready I should have some coffee.

On my way to the lunch-room I met the boss again.

- I want to give my notice!

- Okay! Are you going to be housewife and have children from that tiny slit?

Of course you may quit. I want you to stay but I can not compete with your new boar, can I? Do you stay to the end of this month?

- Yes, thank you, I will.

“Have children from that tiny slit?”

I had got used to his strange kind of humor with its sexual attachments. As all of my female work-mates I had silently accepted it for a long time. We took it for what is was, “manly humor”.

The only thing I reacted to was: “that tiny slit”. He hadn’t seen mine, so how could he…. Never mind I’m out of here in less than a month. Disregarded from his rude humor was a very good employer, who cared for his employee. Sonja could really give him answers that make him mute and us laughing.

Why does he say boar, he can’t know anything about the man I have met. But he is that way. Perhaps it is better for him to concentrate on his own wife and kids, I thought a bit ironic.

Now I had done it! Give my notice. I had obeyed my Master and that felt good. I will miss my work-mates.

Now must Master Micke take responsibility for me and I would not have salaries anymore.

To be housewife is not that bad. No alarm watch that made irritating noise in the morning. Even if he woke me up in the night I could go to sleep when I was through with my tasks.

//

I went into the lunch-room and it was empty. I put on the coffee machine. Our boss offers us coffee and biscuits and as much as we wanted. On Fridays he offers bread and butter, cheese and marmalade. All for free. He never watched us with a clock in his hand and we were all loyal to him.

It seemed that I was the only one who could start the coffee machine, though there were 12 persons, (9 women in different ages). It irritated me a bit. The one who took the last cup of coffee could start the machine.

But all knew that I did it, when I came into the room.

Was it that role they saw me in, a damn attendant. I thought that I was in title to be angry.

My Master on the other hand had the right to have me serving him, but here we were work-mates.

The intern loudspeaker was thundering and abrupt my wondering.

“Telephone to Hilda on line 4!”

What, telephone to me?

Who phone me at my working place?

Perhaps it was Master Micke, I hoped and rushed up to the telephone and push “Line 4”.

- Hello! It is Hilda.

I said and listened. It was quiet some long second or two.

- Hello Hilda.

I recognized Mats’s voice and felt my heart stop, but it started again with a force that throbbed into my head as it tried to come into pace again.

- Hello Master, he corrected me.

My thoughts bombarded my poor brain and my feelings ….  And I felt dizzy.

I had signed a deed-of-gift to my new Master and I had only one Master. No, Mats was not my Master. He had been but he had jumped off that train. But an old feeling saw him as my Master in a funny way.

To win time, to think, I didn’t react to his correction. But my slave-girl-mind wanted to do it, as a habit.

- Hej, what do you want?

I tried deliberately approach him at a friendly level but felt the same feeling as when I sat in my car outside his apartment just to see glimpse of him.

- I miss my slave-girl!

Bang! That went straight into my mind. I knew that those words were very hard for Mats to pronounce.

All his pride forbids him to express those words. 

I knew Mats. To articulate those words he must have a Hell of regret and longing. But of course it was not me, but my mouth that he longed for or my tongue. He must have a winning to do something like this.

I knew Mats and had never in my life believed that he could pronounce those words, to give words for a defeat and give up all defenses in a unconditional capitulation. It had cost him. I enjoyed every second, enjoyed his temporary humbleness. Jesus, how lovely!

He had longed for me, certainly as a slave-girl, but anyway. I could feel my victory in every breath.

He, who only had demanded that I should abrupt what ever I was doing, kneel before him and suck him off and when it was done and he was cleaned he just whisk me as off, as a used sperm-bucket. Okay, okay I had allowed him that right and got used to it, in exchange for his taking the responsibility for me and my life.

But now he was on his knees. I knew him.

I had the winning cards in my hand and I couldn’t stop using my position. Maybe it was an old and pent-up revenge deep inside of me.

- Mats, how do you mean?

- Hilda! This is hard enough for me without you torturing me. I tried to be alone, met some one else but found out that you was better than all of them together. I love you. Okay Hilda, I was wrong. You may come back to me now.

My God, how gorgeous! He was crawling on his knees for me and I knew what every one of this words cost him. He had to force them over his lips.

But I had a new Master now and he owned me. There was no way back to Mats. I could as well kick him in his butt and …. I could exhort him to stick up a finger in that place where my tongue had worked for hours for his pleasure. Not even a trace of a thanks for all that enjoyment of his.  He had taken it for granted. Who wants to be taken for granted?

I could not be free from the deed-of-gift and I absolutely didn’t want to be free from my new Master Micke, even if I knew Mats inside-out.

The great anger that well up from my inside made me surprised. A shut-in fury was released with its own hurricane and took over my thinking.

I was going to burn my ships at Mats’s place. No, they were burned in the same moment I signed my name on the deed-of-gift. Thank you, my heart!

I belonged to another man now. It only temporary moderated my anger. It was long time since I felt a so righteous anger. But I didn’t need to be angry. It was over with Mats.

An evil thought. I could in a lovely revenge use my ace-card and pay him back. I wanted to suck in all that sweet and I felt that it was healing an old longing and lust and swallowed pride.

- Mats, you want me back to be the slave-girl that you can do what ever you want with. To be your slave at your disposal day and night as soon as you want to be released from your sperm? To be your sperm-release-automat and that you can ill-treat as dirt, as your praise?

- Hilda. I want you to come back to me, as my woman and as my slave-girl, which you are so good at. You are the most perfect slave-girl a man can imagine and the most wonderful woman.

- Are you talking about the woman you throw away?

- No, I didn’t throw you away; I gave your free to do what you wanted.

- What did I be free to?

To minute for minute longing myself crazy to come back to you.

To be prepared to end my life when you didn’t want me any longer.

To be prepared to do absolutely anything for you to take me back.

Do you call that to be free?

I was bound to you and you didn’t want me!

My anger wanted to boil over and I felt that I must reduce the heat and cool down my feelings.

I thought that now I will wallop him, crush him as a louse and laugh at him. If he want a slave-girl that released him he had to hunt for another. He will never have me again. Never, ever!

- Mats! Listen now carefully. I’m holding up my finger in the air, for the first time in my life. You know where you can put that finger, but you will not borrow mine.

I cooled down a bit and decrease the heat.

- Mats! I used my freedom to what you meant. I have another Master now and he owns me really. I have given him a deed-of-gift on myself and it confirms that I’m his complete property to do with as he pleases.

Mats, you will never again see me naked or kneeling before you to suck you off as soon as you feel lust for it. I’m will no longer be your sperm-sucker and sperm-releasing-doll, never again! I will never again be you slave-girl, who you can use as you want and who obeys your slightest wish and who see to that you always have a nice time when ever you want to, when, how and where you want it. I will never again dance naked before you or caress myself only for you to see. You will never again own my orgasm. You will never again wake me in the night after you have sperm flow from a wet dream and have me suck you and then clean you so you can go back to sleep. Mats! Do you hear me, never again and now you can fuck off and try to remember what you will be missing when you gave me free.

The last sentence I didn’t get any receipt for. He hangs up, but he stayed long enough to listen to the very most of it and missed only the last sentence.

My enumeration of what he will miss was just a list of what he hopelessly had to long for as revenge from me.

My anger was kept on low heat now. I hadn’t heard the door opened and that Vera and Anders had entered the lunch-room.

My God! I had no idea how long they had been there.

- I broke up with my gay!

I explained in an exculpating way and felt my cheeks really flushing.

How much had they heard? I wanted only to enumerate all the details that Mats should miss, just to torturing him, I admit. It wasn’t meant for others to listen to all those details.

- It is right. One must not let them boss one around.

Vera said diplomatically.

I didn’t know what to say to add an excusing plaster to what I had said, but I tried.

- I enumerate what he demanded of me, but no, he shall not boss me.

It didn’t sounded well, but it was the only thing I could come up with.

- I understand.

Vera said, but I didn’t know if she did or didn’t.

//

Home again.

- Master Micke, I must tell you that Mats phoned to my work today. He wanted me back, but I turned him away of course and told him that he never, ever would have me as his slave-girl again. I told him also that I had a real Master now and that I had signed a deed-of-gift on my self and that I hadn’t any free will any more, that you owned me now.

It really felt good to tell him all this. No secret for one’s Master!

- Well, what did you say more?

- I finished off by enumerate what slave-girl he would miss and told him to fuck-off.

- What did he answer?

- Master, he hanged up. Now I have break up with Mats for ever. I belong to you only and it is you who steer my life now, Master.

It felt so good to be honest and show him that I had finished my old relation. Nothing more could threaten our relation now. I had detected a little of jealousy from Master Micke when he spoke of Mats. Now that was finished with and I felt so satisfied to be obedient his slave-girl.

- That was good and you don’t think you will regret it?

- No Master, I will never regret it. And by the way, as I know Mats his is furious and pissed off now. If he could kill me, he had done so.

- It wasn’t good, I want have a living slave-girl, as dead you have no value.

- No Master!

I felt so obedient and good. I had done what was expected from me. With Mats there was no return, even if Master Micke should abandon me, but that I would made my business that he didn’t.

I knew Mats inside and out and I also knew that I had wounded his ego in the cruelest way. His lately memory of me had been the obedient and docile slave-girl, which never gave him any kind of resistance and gave him all imaginable pleasure. Okay, I enjoyed that he took responsibility for me and made all my decisions. And a deep secret part of my liked to by his sex-toy and his…...

I could easily understood how much I had hurted him. But it was done now and I had to focus on my new Master.

Master Micke had evidently finished this subject and that’s why I must do the same and don’t allowed myself to think more of it.

//

As many other slave-girls I had have Anna as my example of being a good slave-girl. Her explanation-model of the submission-bug I think I understand fully, but I had not really felt it as she does, with the “bug” I mean.

I feel that I need an inner support to be the perfect slave-girl that I want to. She had aimed high, a complete and total slave-girl. I hope I would reach that goal one day.

With a good trainer and Master it was possible, but he must first break my egoism, my own hunting for pleasure, so that I put his in the very first room.

I don’t see my as a good slave-girl, but I was when Mats erased my egoism and made me his sex-toy, made me do anything for his pleasure and had mine to stand back. I think that I need a strong and egoistic Master.

I experience that I must have a strong pressure on me to force me into that view of a real slave-girl. And that pressure was one of the urging motives for me to sign the deed-of-gift. Now I have only to live up to that goal.

Up to now it had felt good and I felt baited when I overdo my submission to my owner, Master Micke.

My God! My Master owns me!

//

Will be continued.

Cecilita