"Good girl.
But I want to see your tits too."

This little good girl has come a long way, but I also know there is a long way to go. I can still remember how I felt when I took the first naked photo of myself for Master. My heart was beating so hard it felt like it was crashing into my throat. I was so fearful. That was the day Master was getting a blow job from one of his servants, and he sent messages to his submissive and I commanding us to touch ourselves. I can remember her loving it, she always wanted to hear stories, I was simply trying to hold myself together because Master had pushed my boundaries hard that day.
 
When I first began serving my strong Master, he asked me if I was a jealous person. I didn’t even have to think about the answer, I answered immediately. “Yes.” I have always been a passionately jealous person. I have been cheated on and lied to in nearly all my relationships. That has made me wary, and made me want to never be made to look foolish ever again. I know this is where my jealousy comes from. In the beginning, it was hard for me, when Master would tell me he was fucking other girls. He would send me photos and I would always compare myself to them. I knew he was just doing what he wanted. I needed to please him, by being happy that he has the power to fuck multiple beautiful hot girls. Part of me was turned on, I was curious to hear Master’s stories. But I think he could feel that his little servant was not yet entirely comfortable hearing what he was telling me. He wanted me to be naughtier.

Master has always been clear that who he fucks doesn’t make any difference to me serving him. I have known this. But it is only in the last week that I truly feel it doesn’t matter. I was standing in the bathroom about to get in the shower, and it was like my brain clicked into place. We have our connection. He is my Master and he has chosen me to serve him. I am his grateful, lucky little servant. Our connection is not simply about sex. Master wants my complete obedience and submission. I need his power, his control and guidance in everything I do. He wants to fuck hot girls, which he deserves to do. That does not change anything about how I serve my Master, or who I am to him.

Master has been drawing out my naughty side, slowly, but surely. Yes, I still feel self-conscious sometimes, a little shy, but I am working on that for Master. I feel like my mind is opening up, and I am embracing being Master’s naughty little servant more. I have dreams about him fucking me, dreams about him wrapping his hands tight around my neck, dreams about being curled up at his feet. I wake up in the morning, horny, wet and craving my Master. Last week I dreamt he was sending me videos of him fucking a hot girl. It was interesting for me that in the dream I was happy and horny to be getting sent those messages from Master. I woke up and told him about my dream.

If Master allows this little servant to touch herself and have an orgasm I have things that I think about that make me orgasm. What I think about has changed over time, although even before becoming a servant to my Master, it has always involved me being used. I can recognise that now. Lately, I have thought about Master fucking my pretty ass. The moment before he does, and then the pain and pleasure of his cock stretching me, using what is his, me accepting that I have no power and will never complain.

Master commanded his little servant to meditate for hours, dressed in chains and latex. I was to think about how thankful I am to my superior Master, feel the stimulation I get from him. My mind was thinking through all different parts of my submission to my Master, the whole experience left me feeling very small, very vulnerable, completely powerless. When he commanded me to touch myself and have an orgasm for him I was in quite a fragile state. He wanted to hear me have his orgasm. My mind was in a place where I was feeling very small, with a huge need to please my Master and just be close to him. I imagined being collared on a chain that Master held. Kneeling at his feet as he fucked another girl. He commanded me to watch as he stretched and fucked her, not me. Imagining this is obviously a massive change for this little servant. I don’t know whether I will go back to my usual fantasy the next time my Master allows me to have his orgasm. Perhaps I will. The fact that I could orgasm while thinking about my Master fucking another girl in front of me feels as though I have made a shift, an adjustment in how I am.

This naughtier part of me growing makes me happier. Because it means I feel even more certain of who I am, I am more comfortable with who I am. I am calmer and stronger. Which makes me a better servant for my Master. Master wants his good girl to be naughtier for him. I know I can be. This servant would be incredibly grateful to have her Master’s teaching and guidance to develop her growing inner naughty servant.

"Soon you will be boarding a plane to come to your man, your real man, your owner, your Master."

It felt so surreal to travel to be with my Master, with the most freedom I have ever had to serve him, for over three weeks. It felt like a gift. I thought I would be nervous to see him, I wasn’t. I arrived not knowing how things would be between us. The months prior to my trip Master had felt more distant from me. His life had changed. I wasn’t sure how I fitted in to his life anymore, now that he had a girlfriend. I didn’t know if he wanted to keep his little servant. I desperately needed to serve him as much as possible.

He makes me kneel and tells me the rules I must obey, how I must behave. I am to always greet him at the door. If I am kneeling before him I am to keep my eyes down, unless he tells me otherwise. When we are with his submissive, I am to call him Master and openly show my submission. I am to be respectful at all times. I am grateful for the rules, I need them, it makes it easier to serve my Master and know that he is pleased.

“You will mark yourself, for your Master.”

For almost the entire time I was there I was marked as my Master’s property. ‘Property of Superior Master’ was inked on my skin, the words covering my chest. It felt amazing to be allowed to present myself that way for my Master. I liked that he could see his name on my body. His property. It always makes me feel beautiful to have my owner’s name marked on me. I enjoyed the daily ritual of it. My day only began once my Master’s mark was in place.


The three weeks were definitely an emotional roller-coaster. It felt so right to be there serving my Master, I knew that that was what I need to be doing. I was just struggling to understand how my Master felt. Did he feel the same way? Is this what he wanted? Was I what he wanted?

He was incredibly busy and exhausted from working. I understand now, but I hadn’t experienced that with my Master before. I hadn’t lived alongside him while he works. I understand him better now. I can see how much energy it takes to do what he does. I understand he needs time to himself, to relax, to get his energy back. Master tells me he wants me to be stronger. I know I have to be.

If I was feeling fragile my Master could instantly fix me, with a look, with a few words, with a touch of his hand on my neck, a bite, a spank on my ass. I tell him that he is like a drug to me. I need my regular dose of him. I worry about telling him that, how he will react to me using those words. Because it doesn’t sound healthy. But it was the best way I could describe how I was feeling. I didn’t want to feel that needy. But being away from all my usual comforts and routines, I didn’t have my usual coping mechanisms. I didn’t make plans, because I felt like I should be available to my Master. I could hear him in his apartment. To be so close to him, and not be with him was challenging. When he didn’t want to spend time with me I felt lonely. That is my own fault. I didn’t understand why he didn’t want to use his little servant. It felt like time was slipping away. Then we talked, he understands how I am feeling. Master decides to spend more time between the two apartments, he takes a set of keys, and from that night he spends more time working in my apartment and being near me.

It makes me happy to make Master lunch, to bring him cups of tea, to iron his shirts. I am frustrated that I can't speak the local language, and not having a well set up kitchen, means I can’t do more to serve him. I am incredibly grateful when he visits for meals and cups of tea, because it gives me the opportunity to serve my Master more. That’s what I need to do. It feels so right to serve him in that way. We get to spend time together as Master and servant. Talking, or just being in each others company. It is a rare experience for the two of us. I am grateful for every minute.

There are times when my Master opens up and tells me what is happening in his life, with his health, and with his relationship. I am grateful for those conversations. I need him to trust his little servant, and be able to share what is going on in his life, the good and the bad, so that I can serve him better. Because if I know, then I can understand, and I can support and care for my strong Master.

Master asks if I know that he cares about me. I shake my head. At the time it felt like he didn’t. We sit on the couch together. It should feel nice, to curl up next to my Master on the couch, to have his arm around me. But it has never felt comfortable. I have never been able to feel relaxed when we sit like that. “You’re not comfortable are you? Go to your place.”  I move so that I am kneeling on the floor in front of my Master, he lets me rest my head on his lap. He strokes my hair and holds me close to him, holding my neck. Finally this little servant is calm, truly calm. I breathe deeply and feel my entire body relax. I feel like I am melting. I have never, ever, felt that way before. There is always tension, I am always holding myself, checking myself. It was at that moment, with my Master realising and acknowledging what I needed, that I felt really cared for. I am so grateful that he discovered that for me.

If Master had time, it became something he would allow me do after lunch, before class started. It felt like a way to connect before spending hours working alongside a big group of people. I often went to class with marks all over one side of my face, creases from Master’s trousers. One day someone noticed them, and it made me smile that they had no idea how I actually got them.

My knees become bruised, I have marks on my ass, and a big bruise on my breast (that is still there now, a visual reminder of my trip). My cup of tea didn’t notice it for days, when he finally asks, “What’s that?!” I keep my face blank as I lie to him, saying someone bumped into me. The truth of course is that my Master stood behind me and grabbed my tits, pulling his servant to him and pressing his hard cock into me. Master said he enjoyed looking at the bruises on my knees. I like them too. They are an outward sign of my submission that I can show and no one will know what they mean.


One night Master shows me photos of a beautiful, hot naked girl on his phone, “Messaging with my friends…” It breaks me. I say something in response, I smile, then I get up and leave the terrace. I need to kneel. I need to breathe. I need to remember that he wants me, he wants to keep me. It doesn’t matter to him that I do not look like the girl in the photos. I pull my dress down and stare at Master’s mark on my chest and try to be stronger for him. He wants that. I know why. After a while I get dressed, and return to the terrace. Not completely recovered, but stronger than I was.

Master doesn’t want to constantly reassure his little servant. If I question that he wants me, it is questioning his judgement. I really do understand that now. I know I am not perfect, I will have moments of being fragile in the future. But I feel like I have more experience and knowledge, after my time with Master, and I will be able to recover better. I will be better for my Master.


I feel like a very lucky little servant when my Master wants to use my body. I love dressing as his slut for him, especially with his mark across my chest. I wear my new suspender harness and the chains and I feel completely sexy and beautiful. I wear the latex skirt, Master makes me kneel on the bed and he spanks my latex covered ass. I finally get to wear my corset for Master, that night once he has finished using me, he allows me to have an orgasm. I kneel on my bed and stare at myself in the mirror touching my wet pussy, as commanded. I am fascinated by how I appear. That is me, my Master’s horny little slut of a servant. I feel hot and beautiful. And his orgasm is powerful.

Master says he is going to get a collar and a leash for his little servant. I smile. I know how that will make me feel. To be collared for my Master, to have him pull me to him with a chain. My god, the thought of that makes me so incredibly horny.

I’m on my back on the bed, and Master is fucking me, “Open your mouth.”  I do as I’m told and he drips saliva into my mouth. It is such a turn on. It is the same feeling when he slaps me, my body reacts like he has touched my pussy. It is intense and I feel so connected with my Master. I know I am completely his. To use as he pleases. That is what he wants, that is what I need.

“What am I going to do now?”
“You’re going to fuck your servant’s ass, Master?”
“You have no right to complain, do you understand that?”
My Master’s cock is thick and as he presses into my tight ass the pain is intense. I groan and I’m whimpering. “Master, please…” I know I’m making too much noise. I press my face into his pillow and try to breathe as he commands me. I know every part of me belongs to my Master. He wants to fuck my ass, I know he is not going to stop, I really need to open for my Master. I know the pain will stop. Finally it does. The intensity makes me incredibly horny, to be used in that way, I’m so wet. “Oh my god.” Master hears me and reaches for my clit, I love feeling how wet I am on his fingers, and how much his thick cock is filling my ass.

“You are the best, Master”
“You are my Real Man”
“What about your cup of tea?”
“he is nothing.”
“Say it.”
“he is nothing. he is nothing. he is nothing.”

I’ve always noticed that my body reacts the most strongly when I feel I am being completely used. Restrained, Master’s hands tight around my neck, slapped, spanked, fucked. I know when Master wants me to sit on his cock and please him, that I am also being used. But it feels like I think too much when that happens. I worry that I am not pleasing him enough. I can feel the difference in my body. The funny thing is, the night that Master fucked his submissive and I together, and the last time when he fucked me in his apartment, I didn’t think that way. I didn’t think at all. I was simply serving my Master as he commanded. As I needed to. So maybe this little servant is making progress. I hope so.


I was so sad to leave. I wish I could stay close to my Master. I have to go home. I don’t want our last few hours to be filled with me crying. There are tears of course. But also good moments, with my Master on the couch and me curled up at his feet. He says if he is honest, he is not that happy about me going home to him, my cup of tea. I’m not that happy about it either. But my life is waiting for me. I return home with my Master’s name on my chest, and a better understanding of my Master and how to serve him better.  

I am my Master’s little servant, His good girl, His little bitch, His slut, His sex toy.
I am doing what I need to do.
Master wants to keep this little servant.
I am incredibly grateful.

It was in early 2019 that Master first commanded his servant to write ‘Property of Superior Master’ on her butt. It took three attempts for me to get it good enough, and big enough to please my Master. I can remember being in a complete panic, because I knew he was waiting, I couldn’t figure out logistically how to do what he had commanded, without putting my back out. It wasn’t until Master was pleased, and I actually stopped and really looked at the words on my butt, that I realised how soaking wet my pussy was.

That has always been the effect that having my owners name on my body has on this little servant. It makes her incredibly horny. It makes her happy. Removing it is always hard.

Recently, I remembered that Master had once said that he wanted to keep me with the writing on my body 24/7. My cup of tea was away for four days, which meant I had the freedom to live like that. I couldn’t wait to drop him at the airport so I could drive home and ask for my Master’s permission to be marked for him. I was nervous asking for his permission. I didn’t want Master to feel displeased that my cup of tea being away was the reason I was asking. I didn’t want this to be about my cup of tea in any way. I really needed to have my Master’s permission.

"Mark yourself, for your owner."

Property of Superior Master, was written across my chest in big heavy black letters. Letters curling across my tits and around my nipples. I send a photo to Master for his approval.

I spend the day wearing a low cut top, the words partly showing above the fabric. Every time I walk past a mirror I stop and stare at myself. Pull my top and bra down to see Master’s name and ownership on my tits. I seem to look different. More beautiful, more sexy. Something is different about me, when I see myself, it’s like a better version of me is looking back at me in the mirror. I felt like the fact that I am his little servant was radiating out of me.

That feeling reminded me of the day that my harness was delivered. I wore it for my Master, with the latex skirt. Sent photos and videos of his little servant touching herself for him, showing him the wetness of her pussy on her fingers. Later that afternoon all dressed up in winter coat, hat and scarf, headphones in, I was walking along the street against the rush of workers all heading home. Holding my head up, in my own little world. Feeling good, still horny. A guy stopped me. I thought I must have dropped something. I hadn’t. He said I looked so beautiful, he just had to say hello, and would I like to meet him for a coffee one day. I smiled, and said “No, I’m sorry, I’m married”. But what I really wanted to say was, “No, I have a Master”. Because Master is the one that makes me feel beautiful. I realised then that I must have been radiating some kind of crazy energy after being a slut for my Master that afternoon.

It feels like my truth is shining out of me. Master says it is because I am happy understanding who I am. That I am his possession. And even if others can’t see the words, they can see me, and how different I am. He says he has wanted that from me from the first time he saw me. He was so sure of what I was. I’ve told him I don’t understand what he could see. I know it doesn’t matter right now. One day, I would like to be able to understand.

Sunday night I send Master a little video before I go to bed, to tell him good night, and show him his mark is still in place. Every day I reapply the mark after my shower, fix it during the day if it gets smudged or looks like it is fading. I spend the days in a constant state of horniness. My pussy throbbing and wet.

On Monday morning I get two messages from Master.

"You will have an orgasm.
On your knees"

I read his messages and groan out loud. I’m so incredibly grateful. I strip off my clothes and kneel on the wooden floor of the bedroom, in front of the mirror. I see the words on my tits, and I watch myself. I think what a little slut my Master is making me. I’m so horny I could orgasm straight away, but I don’t want to. Being allowed to have an orgasm is a treat, don’t rush, I need to enjoy it for as long as possible. I need it to feel so strong and so intense that my Master can feel it over the other side of the world. God, I needed that orgasm. It went on and on. I was so grateful that Master allowed his little servant to touch herself and have an orgasm for him.

The mark remains in place for four days. On the final day I know I have to remove it. I stand in the bathroom feeling sad. It slowly comes off as I rub. Once it is gone I look at myself and feel suddenly plain. I don’t want to cry, but I can feel the tears coming. I take some deep breaths, force the tears away and focus on the fact that I am still Masters possession. Still his little servant. Still his good girl. That truth hasn’t changed. Only the outward sign has gone.

The four days have made me wonder. Why is it so powerful to be marked in that way? It is of course a truth that I already know, I am owned, I am my Master’s possession. I can’t show anyone. No-one knows the mark is there. Only Master and this little servant know. It makes me think about other outward signs of possession, like collars, leashes and cuffs. But also leaves me wondering if there might be other, more discreet, ways of showing my complete submission to my Master.

My Master is back home now. It felt strange saying goodbye. Strange knowing that he is no longer only a few blocks away. Yes, he is physically far from me, but as he says, he is close. Always.

There are so many different things to write about from Master's visit. This is most likely going to be a jumble of thoughts and memories. Apologies if it is disjointed. It feels like I need to write down all these things, because I need to see how far I have come, how much I have changed, understand who I am and what I need to do to be better in the future for my Master.


The submissive me has been growing and growing. I’ve felt it happening. There was a lot of curiosity, for both of us I think, about how I was going to be and how I was going to react and behave.

Kneeling for my Master
It felt so good to kneel in front of my Master. Comfortable. Right. He said he thinks it is humiliating to kneel for someone. Which I thought was curious. Maybe I misunderstood, and he feels it would be humiliating for him to kneel for someone? Which it would be, of course. I don’t feel humiliated kneeling for my Master. Far from it. I respect him and his power over me. It is an honour, not a humiliation, to kneel for my Master.

It was strange to first see my Master in a big group of people. Then sitting next to him in a bar, drinking terrible wine, while a girl questioned him about love and relationships. Those few hours were so bizarre. All I wanted to do was kneel and have my Master smile and say “good girl”. After that night, when we were around others, I would stand with my arms linked behind my back, the way Master taught me, because it was my way of dealing with being in a “normal” situation with my Master. I needed to show him that he is always my Master, no matter what I am doing, or where I am.

Master slapped me
Yes, I knew that Dominants slap their submissives. I knew there was a chance that my Master would slap me. I just wasn’t sure how I would react. The answer is that I didn’t react. It felt like a completely normal thing for him to do. Because my body belongs to him, so he can do whatever he wants to it. I accept that, and enjoy that, because that it pleases my Master to see how much I am his.
It is a crazy good feeling when my Master has his hands around my neck and on my throat. I crave it. I need to feel his fingers tightening, holding me to him. It makes me just want to melt into him. It makes my pussy throb. I get horny just thinking about it. Master taught me to move towards him, to press against the pressure of his hands. This little servant will remember that lesson and will do so when she sees her Master next.

It has felt like my Master had been fucking my mind for the last nine months. Suddenly he was here, right in front of me, his cock filling and stretching my mouth, pussy and ass. He was fucking my body and leaving his marks of ownership all over me. Hand prints on my hips from pulling me on to his cock as I sat in his lap. Bruises on my chest, knees, shins, feet and hips. Marks across my butt from him spanking me. Master said I’m like a flower, because I bruise so easily. That made me smile. This little servant doesn’t mind the bruises. I’m proud of them. They make me horny, because I know what I did to get them.

My Master didn’t just mark me with his hands, he marked me with his cum. My face, hair, stomach, tits. One day he came in my mouth and I walked home straight after. My cup of tea was there, and as I gave him a quick kiss hello, I thought isn’t it funny that these lips were so recently wrapped around my Masters thick cock. I felt no guilt whatsoever. Knowing me, and the morals that I thought I had, all my life, that still manages to surprise me. 

“What will you do for your Master?”
“Anything.”

He stretched my pretty little ass with his thick cock. I had been sure that one day my Master would fuck my ass and he wouldn’t be nice and allow my body time to adjust to him. He wanted his servant to open herself to her Master. He wanted to hear that it hurt, he wanted to know that I would take the pain to please him. I know the pain is worth it. My body did open for my Master. I like being stretched and full of my Master’s cock.

The first time Master fucked my ass on this trip, I was so turned on and horny I was incredibly close to having an orgasm. I didn’t know what to do. I knew I had to ask Master’s permission to have the orgasm. I was too nervous to ask. Firstly because I know that serving Master is for his pleasure, not mine. Secondly, I didn’t want to look like a fool asking permission to have an orgasm that would probably go away the instant I asked.


He fucked me hard and rough. I needed the feeling of him using me, for his pleasure not mine.
He pushed me face down onto the bed with my ass in the air and fucked me.
He lay on top of me, my arms behind my head, pinned me with his arms on top of mine. God that felt good. It made me so horny.
It is so interesting to see how I react to different aspects of serving my Master. I don’t feel self conscious when I am being used in that way. Not that I have any choice about anything, but when I’m being fucked that hard, I really truly feel like I am being used as my Masters possession.

Master is the best fuck I have ever had, because he knows how to fuck my mind and my body.
 

Master and I met one day while he was here to walk around the city. He drank coffee, one good, one bad. We talked.

He asked me how I was. I told him honestly that I hadn’t been that good. I had been feeling quite fragile and odd since I had last served him. He thought maybe that was because he had fucked me rougher than previous times. Given that I enjoy that, I didn’t believe that was the case. Of course, I had done some googling, to try to understand what I was feeling. Someone else must surely have felt the same. I did find some writing that helped me. It was called Coping with Emotional sub Drop. A lot of it seemed to make sense, the coming down off the endorphin high, the feeling of being vulnerable after having been so open and exposed.

Master hadn’t told me how it would be when he was here. He had just said wanted me to be available. So I made sure I was, as best I could. I took time off work, I planned it so I could be out in the evenings in case he wanted me to serve him. Then he didn’t want to see me every day, he didn’t command me to cook for him, that surprised me a bit. Yes, I know he wasn’t just here for me, he was here to work. Plus time is never on our side. I felt like I needed to serve him more, learn as much as I could. And I don’t just mean serve him as in have sex. Master knows that the domination he has over me is not just about sex. It is continuous, all day, every day. I needed to be close to him. I think perhaps the emotional drop that I had was to do with this. I felt slightly abandoned. Like I wasn’t wanted. Saying that may displease my Master. He deserves to do as he wants, when he wants. That feeling is something that I need to be aware of, I need to be stronger, not let it take over in future.


It did feel really good to talk though. We are in touch constantly, but messaging is not the best way for talking about bigger things. We never really talked about how this would all work when he accepted me as his submissive. I don’t think either of us knew what would happen, whether he would want to keep me, whether I would find my submissive self that had been hiding. So many unknowns. 

“I want you to be my servant 24/7”

In all honesty, I really didn’t know what he meant when he said that to me. Was he wanting to steal me away in his suitcase? No. Obviously not. I am married and have my life here. He understands that. But to know that my Master wants this little servant to serve him 24/7 is a beautiful feeling. It makes me happy. It calms me. I will continue to serve and please my Master as best I can. I won’t worry about the future, I don’t think about the future. I will just take every day as it comes, and be grateful.

I think my Master is worried that a crisis is looming in my relationship. There is that danger. If I continue to be less affectionate. If I continue to say no to sex. It will cause a problem. I can see that. I don’t want that.

When I was first with Master he asked how often I have sex. I told him about once a month. Now it is much less. I say no for various reasons. Sex with my cup of tea is boring and quick. It doesn’t turn me on. I need different things. I belong to my Master now. If I have sex, I will be punished. I am a good girl. I fear being punished and will avoid punishment as much as I can. Making post-sex videos apologising to my Master truly is an excruciating punishment.

Talking to Master that afternoon made me really realise that something needs to change. I have to find a way to make my new life work with the boundaries that I have. 

 
“I want to keep you. I don’t want you to worry about that”
Hearing my Master say those words, it was so important to me. I really needed to hear him say that. I am incredibly grateful that he did.

I think the two separate me’s are now one. I have to come to terms with that. I have to make this work.
I know who I am now. I am my Master’s little servant. He is pleased with my progress.

I had sex with my cup of tea on Sunday night. It had been weeks since we’d last had sex (on our anniversary). My cup of tea had been trying to have sex with me several nights in a row, but I had always managed to put him off. On Sunday night I decided not to say no. My Master is coming to visit soon, I don’t want to have sex with my cup of tea while my Master is here. If I agreed to have sex now, that would hopefully mean I could avoid it for the next month at least.

I’m not actually sure he lasted three minutes this time. It felt more like two minutes, or actually even less. Foreplay included, which is non-existent if I’m really honest. There is no way that sex like that with my cup of tea turns me on. I’m never aroused for him. According to him it felt amazing, but the feeling is obviously not mutual.

The whole time I thought of my Master. How much better my Master can fuck. How much longer my Master can fuck. How disappointed and displeased my Master would be when I told him what his little servant had done.

Sex with my cup of tea makes me feel quite upset. Firstly because it’s bad, boring sex. Secondly because I have disappointed my Master. I belong to my Master. All of me, mind, body, soul. My body should only be for him. 

cup of tea falls instantly asleep and I lie awake feeling miserable. I don’t sleep well, and wake in the morning feeling awful. he leaves for the day and I message my Master to apologise for what I have done. I always try to apologise as soon as possible, making sure I am alone so that I can apologise completely in a way that pleases my Master.

When I press send on the message apologising my heart rate is sky high and I feel slightly ill. The wait for my Master to read the message is dreadful. I wait for his reaction, and my punishment. I know I will eventually feel better once Master has punished me for disappointing him. I need him to forgive his little servant so I can feel normal again.

Fifteen painful minutes later he messages commanding me to make a video apologising. That is my punishment. He wants the video now, he is going out so won’t watch it till later. My friend is due at my house in five minutes, I ring her to delay her. I strip off my clothes so I am naked, set up my mobile to take the video, then kneel staring at the red Record dot on the screen, trying desperately to calm down. Making the videos for my Master is always a double punishment. I’m sure he knows that. My discomfort is plain to see. My mouth goes dry and words disappear from my head.

I always have a few false starts. Finally I manage to record an apology. I press Send. I get dressed. Then I send another message letting Master know that his apologetic little servant is going to walk her dog with her friend. My friend is in a happy mood and I try to hide the fact that I am not. It would be impossible for me to tell her what was wrong.

All day I am miserable. Nothing seems to go right. I try to finish the dress I am making, it should be simple, just hem it and I’m done, but I try it on and it doesn’t fit correctly. Pins stab my tits and one pokes me in the upper lip, and my frustration and disappointment gets the better of me. It’s all my fault of course, why I am feeling terrible. I deserve to feel this way. I wonder how Master is. I constantly check my phone, even though I don’t have our conversation muted, so there is no need to keep checking. He will reply when he wants.

Seven hours later Master tells me that he is pleased with his servant’s apologies. Of course I am relieved, but I also know that how I am feeling will take time to recover from. It usually takes me until the next day before I can begin to feel happy again, even though Master has accepted my apology. The recovery is a slow process.

It is lucky for me that I manage to keep sex to a minimum. Because the feeling of displeasing and disappointing my Master is horrendous, that feeling lasts so much longer than the terrible sex.


My goal is to please my Master. Only by doing so can I be a happy little servant.