He slapped me then and it caught me by such surprise it
brought tears to my eyes. Being slapped doesnâ??t often make me cry. As a matter
of fact, once, near the beginning of our relationship, we engaged in a battle
of wills. He slapped meâ?¦ hardâ?¦ knocking me from Him and almost to the bed (we
were sitting on the edge of it). I picked myself back up and stared at Him with
defiance and He slapped me again.

Sometimes I donâ??t notice things until suddenly theyâ??re in my
face all the time. One such example is how often Master reminds me of my place
in our relationship, whether Iâ??m acting out or not. Verbally, physically, intentionally,
unintentionally, etc. Yesterday, there was no denying it. Almost every moment
we were physically together He pointed it out in some way or another.

The moment that sticks with me, though, is when He walked up
beside me, grabbed my nipple firmly between His fingers and said, â??Youâ??re a
dirty whore. A piece of pussy. Something to cum in and on.â? I whispered, â??Yes,
Master.� my gaze locked firmly on the floor as I tried to bury my humiliated
face in His stomach. â??And what will you be tomorrow?â? â??A piece of pussy,
Master.�

He slapped me then and it caught me by such surprise it
brought tears to my eyes. Being slapped doesnâ??t often make me cry. As a matter
of fact, once, near the beginning of our relationship, we engaged in a battle
of wills. He slapped meâ?¦ hardâ?¦ knocking me from Him and almost to the bed (we
were sitting on the edge of it). I picked myself back up and stared at Him with
defiance and He slapped me again.

This repeated a number of times before He asked me if I was
stupid or stubborn. Perhaps a little of both? I still picked myself up when He
slapped me. At some point, He told me to stay down but it lacked the firmness
of an order. It was more an exclamation of incredulity at how determined I was
not to allow Him to put my face to the mat and hold me there. And so I
continued to pop back up and stare at Him with this half-triumphant smile on my
face.

Iâ??m not sure what this told Him. What He learned from this
little match. I just remember Him tiring of the game and finally ordering me to
go find something else to do.

He fucked me this morning after my shower and before His. He
does that a lot. Sometimes it makes me laugh thinking about it. He sends me off
to get clean just so He can make me dirty again. Itâ??s weird walking around smelling
like a whore all the time. And believe me, no matter how quick and effortless
our sex is, I still walk around smelling like a whore for the rest of the day. And
thinking about it just makes me hotter.

I used to daydream of Him cumming all over me and then
sending me to work with cum drying on my body beneath my clothes. I have
extensive fantasies of Him sending me to work corners or finding a trustworthy (i.e.
not police or informants) group of people to sell my use to. And the more I see
these weird things for sale on eBay (there was a couple of guys selling an ass
beating on eBay once), the more I fantasize about Him hiring someone to abduct
and rape/torture me while He watches from another room. Or joins in once I canâ??t
see or hear whatâ??s being done to me.

Unfortunately, excepting only when Iâ??m completely
disoriented, which is rare, itâ??s pretty much impossible for Master to rape me. I
always want it from Him. And even if I didnâ??t, Heâ??s trained me pretty well. My
body is His to do with as He wishes. If He wants to fuck me, Iâ??d better perform
exactly as I know brings Him the most pleasure regardless of my feelings on the
matter.