Good Bitch.

I have this feeling coursing through my veins. That of utter deviousness. Pure wickedness. This feeling refuses to leave me alone, and I have full intentions on asking Him if I can cum later tonight. We shall see what…comes…of that.

Anyways, back to this feeling.

My body, my mind, is yearning for the kind of sex that ruins you. That makes you question what kind of person you are afterwards. That makes you wonder if losing your sanity was worth it.

The answer to that is always yes. Always.

Let me see if I can describe just what I want tonight…that is if he’d be willing to oblige. If he’d deem it appropriate to act wildly…inappropriate.

If He’d say yes. If He agreed. This is what our night would look like. So grab your lotion. Grab your sock. Grab your favourite vibrator and buckle the hell up.

Dirty. Rough. Wild.

There would be not a stitch of clothing on either of us. Save for my harness — with buckles adjusted, straps fastened, and D-rings plentiful. I would be nothing but an object. From the time our play would begin, until the moment it ended. I want to be nothing but three holes for Him. Three holes to be presented to Him. Three holes to use with no regard of the body they belong to. The body which…evidently, also belongs to Him.

Twisted enough for you yet? No? I’ll take that as a challenge thank you very much.

I want my jaws to be pried apart with a spider gag. I want my ass to be stuffed with a plug…perhaps one with a tail attached — just to signify that I would really be lower than human status. That I’d be nothing more than a bitch in full heat. And my cunt? Well it’d be a mess. It is a mess. My lips are parted in the hottest flames of desire. My clit throbs. Aches for His touch to stoke the logs feeding the fire in my belly. It’s ready for use. Should that be the hole He would choose.

With the gag spreading my mouth open, it would make it near impossible to speak coherently. But I would try, because to do so would be degrading. Humiliating. So as strings of drool would drip down my chin and fall onto the carpet beneath my bent knees, I would try to speak.

“Please Sir. Treat me like a whore.”

Of course the phrase sounded nothing like the sentence above. It would sound messy, warbled, twisted and morphed. Incomprehensible.

Earning me a sharp slap to the face. And another. And another. And another.

The fire would reflect in my eyes. A silent plea for more.

“I don’t even have to touch your cunt to know how wet you are. You’re a sick little whore aren’t you? Fucking slut.”

He would spit on my face, laughing at how pathetic I must look. Pathetic and sexy as hell. There’s something about seeing me so debased, isn’t there? Something so inherently alluring about a girl lowering herself to be treated so…inhumanely. He finds it irresistible.

Fuck, even I find it irresistible.

“Roll the fuck over like a good bitch.”

That name. It’s one thing to think it to myself. But it’s quite another to hear Him say it out loud. Honestly, it makes me want to raise my proverbial hackles. It makes me want to recoil. To snap my teeth.

Gee, I’m making a good argument aren’t I?

Anyway, I hate hearing it out loud. But it brings me another step lower. Another step down from any semblance of a ‘normal’ girl, and another step closer to being just what He would call me. A bitch.

I would roll over despite a small part of me that wanted to resist. To hesitate. No. I would roll over, my hands in a ‘sitting pretty’ position on either side of my chest. Drool still dripping profusely down my chin. My eyes sparking with unchecked desire. The fire roaring inside me. Raging to unparalleled heights.

He’d see this and continue his sharp condescending laugh which would make my cheeks bloom scarlet. Ohhhhh, the humiliation. It would almost be too much to bear. However, it would be enough to make me turn my face away from His — my eyes shutting, my mind honing in on the burning in my cheeks.

“Ohh no you don’t. I want you to fucking look at me. So. fucking. look. at. me.”

He would take His foot, forcefully turning my face to look at Him. Keeping His foot against my cheek, He would place his other foot between my legs. Pressing Himself against me. More, more, and more pressure.

“I can feel your pathetic cunt soaking through my sock you filthy slut. If you get off on this so much, cum. Cum by grinding your cunt against my foot.”

I would instantly obey. My hips gyrating against His foot, trying desperately to get in just the right position. Until my clit would be exposed from the friction. My arms wouldn’t move from their position. Still perched on either side of my chest. My face still turned towards His. My chin glistening from my spit.

I wouldn’t be prepared when He’d pull out His phone. Recording my act of degradation.

“Bark like a fucking dog.” He would press His foot harder against my cunt, making me whimper.

I would desperately want to melt into the floor at that point. Especially with the camera aimed at my face. But…I would comply. Letting out a half hearted bark, “Awwe come on bitch. You can do better than that. Show your Master what a good bitch you are.”

I would try again. The bark sounding absolutely ridiculous with the gag in my mouth. But it would suffice, and I would continue to rut against His foot. Grinding harder, harder, harder. The scene taking a toll.

I’d be hot as fuck. It wouldn’t take me very long at all. Less than ten minutes of rutting and I would be ready to cum. He would encourage it. Rooting me along,

“If you’re going to cum, bark. That’s the only rule my pet.”

And bark I would. Earning me a rub on the belly with His saturated sock.

“Good bitch. Now get the fuck on all fours and lift that tail for me. I want to see that swollen cunt spread wide open for me.”

“Ruff!”