Master once asked me if I was playing at being submissive. We hadn’t seen each other for some time, it was still early in my journey. I can understand why he asked the question. But I could feel it in my soul, I was not playing then, and I am certainly not playing now. I am my Master’s little servant through and through. Sometimes now it does feel as though I am playing. But not playing at being submissive, I’m playing at being my plain self, the wife, the sweet friend who is always good.

"Good girl.
I’m feeling proud of you.
Do you feel you are stronger than before?"

"So much stronger.
Feels amazing."

Anxiety, nervousness and feeling self conscious have always been a part of my life. These are feelings that have stopped me from doing the simplest of things. I got caught up in worry, I would procrastinate, then I wouldn’t follow through on what I should be doing. When I was out in public, I walked with my head down, eyes looking at the ground.

When I became Master’s little servant that created a new collection of worries to add to my ever growing list. I was too plain, too vanilla, not sexy, not interesting enough, not confident enough. Does he really want me, does he find me attractive, do I look foolish?… on and on they went. I am not proud of that. It makes me quite sad and emotional to write all those things down, to bring them out into the open. Although, I’m pretty sure Master knows them all.


Being submissive is not a sign of weakness.
Submission is a sign of strength.
A greater degree of submission requires a greater degree of personal strength.


Serving my Master over the past year and a half has been a huge time of growth. Master has been patiently training, guiding, encouraging, pushing and shaping me into the strong little servant he wants. He tells me he is proud of me. Then he tells me he wants more.

Initially I had to have the strength to take a massive step into the unknown, to be with a man who was not my husband, explore my submission, learn what I need to be happy. Next came the strength to accept Master’s punishments and learn how to be a better servant for him. One of the hardest things to stay strong with was Master fucking other girls. Early on, I thought I had accepted the fact that he fucked others, however, despite my curiosity about my Master’s sex life, my self confidence often struggled. It was only in April this year that I felt myself fully accept and understand that him fucking others makes absolutely no difference to my service to him. He wants me and I will obey him. Now I just wish I could join in, to be able to give my Master more pleasure. The realisation of this makes me stronger.

I never thought I would have the strength to serve my Master with someone else. He was very clear he wanted that, I knew I would obey him despite my fears. I knelt in front of Master and stripped off my clothes as commanded, revealing myself and his mark across my chest to his submissive. To my surprise, I wasn’t a nervous, self conscious mess, like I always imagined I would be. My Master’s pleasure gave me strength. His mark gave me strength. I could feel he was proud of me. It felt so right to serve him in that way that it is funny that I ever worried about it. I guess that is just the process. Every time I serve him my world gets clearer, things make more sense, I make more sense.
"I want us to be connected,
but I don’t want you to be needy."

Recently I messaged Master to tell him I miss him. The actual reality of the situation being that I was feeling insecure and needy. He doesn’t want that. I do understand that. I know exposing my weakness will displease my Master, but when I am honest with him, he can always help me to understand what is going on, and I am so very grateful for that. His guidance makes me stronger.

Master wants a strong servant. If I am to please him, I need to be strong. I don’t want to be a nuisance to Master, constantly seeking reassurance from him. If I do that, I am questioning his judgement. Master telling me that was a massive turning point for me. I felt like it hit me between the eyes when he said it. I instantly understood what I was doing from Master’s perspective. I trust my Master, and I will trust what he saw in his little servant.

I know I will have moments in the future when I will feel fragile. Despite my best efforts, I am not perfect. Master doesn’t expect his little servant to be perfect. Master wants an obedient, dedicated little servant who is always willing to improve. My huge need to please my Master, and have him be proud of me, is the biggest driving force behind me working hard each day to be stronger for him. Master is the most important to me, I need to ensure he is pleased. I need to make his life better, not make it harder.


The world feels like it is in a moment of madness. I have no idea when I will see my Master again, when I will be able to kneel gratefully at his feet. I try to remain focused on the present. My daily routines and tasks help to reassure me and keep my mind calm. Messaging Master when I wake, asking for permission to do things, training and running, kneeling to meditate, saying good night before I get into bed. All of these small things help me. They give me purpose, they give my day focus. I feel stronger because of that. Each day when I take time to kneel, take deep breaths imagining my Master sitting in front of me, I feel my entire body relax and my mind calm.

The process seems to be speeding up. I can feel my strength is growing, it feels as though it is growing exponentially now. When Master feels that in me, when I register the feeling within myself, it makes me even stronger. I love the feeling. I tell Master it feels amazing. It feels so real and complete that it feels like a physical presence, almost as though I can see it shining out of me when I look at myself in the mirror. There is a calmness in me now. I am more at peace with myself. I accept and can admit what I am. I belong only to my Master, this little servant was born to be his, I will forever serve him.


The fear of not being good enough for Master had always haunted me. I never felt sexy, hot or beautiful. I am different now. There is a certainty that was never there before. I am stronger. And I know that the stronger this little servant becomes, the more beautiful I become in my Master’s eyes.

I have never felt happier with who I am, or more comfortable in my skin, than I do at this moment. The wonderful and exciting thing is that I know there is more inside me to discover.

This little servant is so grateful to my Master. You are the reason for this little servant’s happiness and strength.

Thank you, Master.

Master wants his little servant to describe the feeling of being marked.

There are many ways that Master can mark his property. This little servant enjoys them all. I am a visual person, I think that is why I enjoy outward signs of being owned. Bruises on my knees, bite marks on my cheeks, hand prints on my ass and hips, Master’s name across my chest, the cuffs and the clothes I wear for my Master. His cum all over my face and body.


The very first time I sucked Master’s cock he commanded me to kneel and he covered my face in cum. He was marking me as his. It surprised me that I understood that, even then, in the early days of my submission. No man had ever done that to me before. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror of that motel, and I wondered who was looking back at me.


When I traveled to serve my Master, he marked his little servant many times. Each time I knelt, my mouth aching, my pussy soaking wet and throbbing, completely horny for my Master. Desperate to please him. He would cover my face, top to bottom, his cum everywhere. Marking me, as his. I distinctly remember standing in the bathroom, Master’s name covering my chest, his cum covering my face. I saw myself in the mirror and felt utterly beautiful. I was calm, happy, and incredibly grateful to be owned.


I know it pleases my Master, to look down on his little servant kneeling at his feet. I know that is what he wants, to use me, to do what ever he pleases with me. This little servant belongs to him. I am his toy, his pet, his possession. I kneel because I submit fully to him. I have given up my need to think and make decisions, given up control. I have to give all of myself. I need to please my Master, that feeling is so strong. When he is pleased, when he calls me his good girl, I am happy.

It makes me feel like a complete slut. To kneel on the floor at Master’s feet, hands behind my back, offering up my face and body to my Master to be covered in his cum. I am not ashamed to feel that way.

It is who I am.

This is what I need.

"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.