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June 25th, 2008

Before Master left work, He gave me the option of plugging my ass to go to the store. No I’m serious. He asked which I would prefer. Naturally, feeling it was a trap, I said “Whatever would please you most, Master.”

I’m clever, aren’t I? Unfortunately, He wanted a real answer. What I would do if it was entirely up to me. And He refused to give me any real indication as to what He wanted.

I thought a moment. I weighed the pros and cons. And I came up with a definitive “I don’t know.” I am the most indecisive bitch this side of the Mississippi. No lie.

But seriously! Sometimes I like the plug and sometimes I don’t. And I can’t tell by just sitting there thinking whether or not I like it. I have to actually insert it to know if today is a good plug day or a bad plug day. And once it’s in, it’s too late to go back. I can beg to take it out… but more often than not that gets me a resounding “No, cunt. Deal.” So if I was free to choose for myself, I’d probably choose not to just in case it was a bad plug day. Save myself some trouble.

So, I told Him that. And He said “That’s a pity because it’s nice when a bitch wants to be dirty.” I started searching for the last place I stashed the plug. God damn did that hurt getting in when I finally found it (resting happily exactly where it belonged).

So Master came home from work and snatched me up so we could go shopping (I’m so sick of shopping. Can’t the groceries come to us?? Well, in our small town they can, but the store that delivers is expensive. I digress.). We needed coffee, deodorant and soap. At least that’s what I knew of. When He got home He told me we needed hot dog rolls. Thirty of them. For a work party I can’t go to. *pout* But in exchange for our demanded offering He gets a $50 gas card. That’ll get Him back and forth to work for almost half a week! We seriously need to get rid of the Durango. 

As soon as we got in the door, I put the groceries away and He trotted off to the bedroom (which has become our new “rec room” minus a TV, oddly enough… we do EVERYTHING in there that doesn’t require a toilet, sink, stove or computer) and stripped down to His boxers. When I was finished, I moseyed in after Him and curled up on my side on the end of the bed.

I don’t remember what we were talking about. I just remember Him ordering me to strip and me trying to change the subject. I’m not real sure why I did that. Maybe because I knew what He was after. He was practically climbing the walls at lunch and we’d run out of time even though I tried to get Him to stay home anyway. I stripped and curled up on the bed again.

“Show me your cunt, whore.”

My cheeks burned as I laid back and spread my legs for Him. This new fascination He has with watching me lay there with my legs spread – sometimes with my fingers in my cunt, sometimes not depending on His mood – drives me batshit with mixed emotions. On the one hand, I want to curl up and die with nervousness and embarrassment. No one in my life has ever stared at me with as much scrutiny and hunger in their eyes. On the other hand, I’m so turned on my pussy juices are dribbling down the crack of my ass in seconds. Tonight He wanted me to play with it.

That’s when I discovered the damage I did to my clit with my fingernail yesterday. But I didn’t dare attempt to beg out. Nights like these… nights when the house is empty save for us… are so few and far between. And I was hoping to cry. I do so love to cry.

It took Him four strokes with the slut paddle to my pussy to get the tears started. I don’t know how many times He yanked my legs open and delivered a hard blow to them reminding me to keep them open. And then He yanked them open and wedged His body between my thighs and began beating my tits and inner thighs. Oh how I’ve missed that.

He pinned me to the bed by my throat and fucked me hard and long, ramming His cock into my cervix repeatedly as I cried. Between the jarring slaps to my face and the vicious strokes with the paddle I quickly lost sight of which way was up. He kept asking if it was too much. I think because He enjoys when it’s too much just as much as I do. But it wasn’t. It was just what I’ve been dying for.

He yanked His cock out of me and sent me to get the plug out of my ass. Just as I’d thought, the damn thing had torn my anus and I was bleeding a little. I cleaned up best I could, the only mess being the still seeping blood, and rushed back to the bedroom to the tune of “Lick my cock and balls, cunt.”

It wasn’t long before He shoved me to my back and started the process again. He held my legs open this time as I thrashed on the bed trying to find a position that eased the pain some. To no avail. He walloped my poor pussy from mons to ass crack while I cried. Then He rammed His cock back into my cunt and began to fuck even more vigorously than before.

When He came it was the worst. Or the best? I guess it depends on how you look at it. The pain was the worst so my enjoyment level was high.

Then He told me to cum (After asking if I wanted to… Are you kidding me??!?) and I cringed at the expected pain. But naturally, since I was already soaring, the pain from my devastated clit was euphoric.

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