Maria’s return

Maria is back, Master M has continued his frequent mouth-fucking of me, and all is “normal” once again in the mansion.

It’s hard to believe that it was only a year ago that Maria was receiving her initial slave training at the hand of Master M. She has become such a fixture in our D/s lives that I feel something’s “off” when she isn’t by my side. It’s been only a few days since I last was with her, yet I have missed her nonetheless.

---

As Maria has come into our lives this year, I have realized how solitary my slave life used to be. Living in 24/7 slavery alone was sometimes isolating, and while I wouldn’t say I was generally ever lonely, I did often feel I was the only one and no one could feel what I felt. Now, I just look over at her in whatever debasing slave predicament I’m in, and I see understanding and empathy in her eyes. She knows how I feel. And vice-versa. It’s nice.

Yet our slaveries are notably different, and there’s affirmation for me that comes from that as well. Maria is deeply amazed by my being a sex slave. She watches as Mistress displays me to the neighborhood and as Master puts me in sexual bondage, and she looks at me with a kind of awe as I endure it, for these are things she cannot imagine enduring herself.

Her observation of and respect for my slavery gives me a different experience than I used to have. And it makes me all the more committed in my slavery to him.

---

She is bemused by his new practice of mouth-fucking me. Maria well knows about my cock-addiction. “You must be in heaven with all this now,” she says.

“Just once I’d like it to be on my terms,” I sigh.

“Be glad for what it is. We don’t get anything on our terms.”

Despite having just a year’s experience, Maria sometimes spouts age-old D/s truth. Sometimes she just echoes what she’s been taught, yet without the experience to know it’s truth first-hand. But here, I know she’s right, that I should cherish the experience, even as utilitarian as it may be.

My faint regret is just that in some other life I might be able to truly love a man’s cock as part of loving a man. I mean, I do now, with him, with Blake, with anyone, for it’s the only way I can be — that is, to make love to a man’s cock. But there’s a difference between making love to a man’s manhood, and truly loving it in some way that is part of a larger loving of him.

To Maria, I blurt out, “Yes, but at least you get to love him.”

She hasn’t heard any of my inner dialogue, my segue into that, yet it’s a testament to her relational intuition that she understands exactly what’s in my heart, and she doesn’t miss a beat: “You know, Shae, he adores you.”

Her affirmation comes, I know, from a place of pillow talk with him, and maybe because of that, I consider it genuine. I take it into myself deeply.

---

Maria and Master M have been apart for nearly a month, and it’s been interesting to see them together again. He received her with his official dominant treatment, creating a “mansion initiation” for her (as he does me) and plunging her right into work process. Yet I feel their immediate emotional connection, a subtle but obvious intimacy, a private vibe, an unspoken language.

Her “welcome back to the mansion” initiation was simple: he strung her up to the ceiling T-bar. He made her topless, exposing her pretty grapefruits, though it wasn’t a public exposure for her, as it was just us in the room. He ordered her not to speak or make a sound. And he left her there for a full hour-and-a half while he worked at his desk. It was a visual act of “putting her in her place” and giving her the experience of being owned property again.

I have learned that these initiations (my squatting on the half-moon table in the atrium, for example), are actually beneficial to me, as they focus my mind back into my slave life, re-orienting me into my mansion life of servitude. I imagine the same is true for Maria.

But my point is that, even in her bound silence, Maria spoke volumes to Master M as he stood before her cupping her breasts. I watched her eyes find his, and I saw her submissive longing and his dominant manhood merge in some way I have not experienced. It’s rather beautiful actually.

I know some will ask if I’m jealous. Maybe a twinge, but not substantially so. I truly am happy for her and for him. But I also know this is how “poly” works. I’ve had my time with him before, she is having her time with him now. It may come back to me, or not. She and I may have our time together, a deeper intimacy, at some point. It’s fluid, just as poly is meant to be. I guess I’m accepting that more positively these days.

---

Lord knows, I don’t need to report on yet another cocksucking, but I have a purpose in this.

Later in the day of Maria’s return, Master had me take him in his mouth again. She was working at the conference table, but he had staged this cock-sucking just a few yards to the side so she could observe. It was indeed a staging, I felt, a kind of demonstration for Maria of my new skill developed this week while she was away, almost a pantomime of my now ubiquitous act of oral pleasuring.

He called to me, “It’s down time,” his clever euphemism for the occasion of my mouth service. Maybe for him the best part of the “demo” was my Pavlovian response — my immediate click-clack across the Great Room floor, my smooth transition into a V-squat at his feet with my skirt pulled up around my waist. As I obey, he’s pleased with my alacrity, my brisk obedience to such a lowly act of sexual service. Already he’s trained me so this week. Maria opened her eyes wide, impressed, I guess.

In all the times he’s had me do him this week, I suppose he’s actually come in my mouth only every third or fourth time. His decision not to come is a mark of his control, I know, and a way of making my cock-suckings of him less meaningful — it says that his that use of me is not even to get him off, that I’m not worthy of it, that I’m to be used simply as a cock-shaped hostler for his gun. So, for him not to come this time was not unusual, and besides, I expected now he would want to save himself for her.

I suppose it was because my hands were behind me and not touching his shaft that I didn’t detect it, the slight twitch. Also, Master seemed not to betray his condition with a grunt or sigh or any vocal utterance. I don’t know if this was intentional on his part, but he took me by surprise.

I had just pulled my mouth from his cock, my lips flattening against his hard shaft as he exited. I expected to go down on him again, having my mouth slide across his taut flesh another time — but just then he exploded.

Without my hands to guide, his cock jerked freely and ejaculated onto my face and hair. I opened my mouth quickly, but by chance almost none of his cum landed there. It was everywhere else.

It was a thick white cream that dotted my cheeks and eyes, some decorating the long curls of my red hair, and a lot of it pooling just below my lips in the crevice of my chin.

Everything paused, and he and I took our unholy minute in the aftermath. I soon gently cleaned his cock with my tongue, but there wasn’t much to wipe off — nearly all of his cum landed on me.

The point of telling this is how Maria responded.

She asked if she should get a towel. Master said no, that he wanted me “to wear him” for a while. I stood and started back to my quadrant, my desk, to continue working.

As I clacked back across the Great Room, drops of Master’s cum fell from my face to the floor.

He noticed, commanded, “Shae, clean that up.”

Obediently, I knelt on the floor and pressed my face to the drops of cum. I licked them up, but as I did, another drop rolled from my cheek to the floor. I licked that up, but then some from my chin dangled for a long second, then it too fell off.

I stopped, looking up helplessly, an exasperated mess. Master wore a faint grin. Maria looked at me with empathy.

Suddenly, Maria stood up from the conference table and walked to me. She knelt on the floor beside me. She looked me in the face, came close, and softly licked Master’s cum from the crevice of my chin. She kissed me on the lips, leaving my lips shiny-coated with him.

Then Maria leaned to the floor and licked up the remaining droplets of cum I had dripped there.

---

Maria did not do this because she wanted a share of Master’s ejaculation, some of his cum for herself. She did not do it because she was trying to please him — in fact, she acted on her own, somewhat against his wishes for me to wear him as is — though, it wasn’t likely he would object to the scene unfolding before him. Her kiss of me was not romantic or sexual, for that purpose, although some of our presence together seems to cross that line.

What she did was come alongside me in my humiliation, aid me when I was exasperated, and make my situation manageable. Watching my helplessness, she rushed to my side to provide help to me, descending to my lowest level. This is who she is.

I’m glad she’s back. I’ve missed her.