"Stories / The Submissive-A Love Story" By robblu (https://pastebin.com/u/robblu) URL: https://pastebin.com/m6AAqRh1 Created on: Thursday 4th of August 2016 10:09:51 PM CDT Retrieved on: Saturday 31 of October 2020 03:29:52 AM UTC Stories / The Submissive-A Love Story « on: May 06, 2016, 09:14:59 pm » This is lovely story about a Mistress who loves her slave so much that she will subjugate what she wants to give her slave her fondest wish. This story has an implied hanging, spanking, submission, implied submissive pee play, delicious lesbian lovemaking, and an evisceration. “I’m sure that every slave thinks that they are submissive.” My Mistress says this as I am laying over her lap for morning discipline, her soft hand patting my bare buttocks. Cheyenne just got her spanking and she is still crying from the ferocity of it. Tiffany is standing behind me waiting her turn. Still, I quickly took my place over her lap. Though she spanks much harder with her bare hand, I always enjoy being disciplined in this way. I long to feel my Mistress’ hand touching me. I can feel her pleasure with my submission when she spanks me and leads me through my pain. “But I know that it isn’t just a word for you.” “This one is glad you see her that way,” I answer carefully, “buy she assures you that all she thinks about is obeying you.” “That’s my girl,” my Mistress says softly before the first harsh slap of her hand strikes my bare buttocks causing me to cry out in anguished pain. ~~~ My sister slaves tell me that I am Mistress’ favorite. I don’t understand. I am not as attractive as either Cheyenne or Tiffany. I am heavy, red haired, over freckled and a little homely. My Mistress purchased me to be butchered and grace her dinner table. To this day, I didn’t completely understand why she decided to keep me as her concubine and slaughter one of her established slaves for that meal. I love my Mistress. I love her as if she were the one who created me, though I know that is only God’s purvue. Still, He commands me to obey those He has placed in authority over me. I have made love to her with my hands, my mouth and my pussy. I have drank her urine as if it were holy water. I have collected her stool as it passed from her rectum as if it were treasure. I have climaxed in tears just while having the privilege to nurse her breast. I have gladly received every punishment and discipline that she has ever asked of me without complaint other than my spontaneous cries of pain. When my sister slaves told me this while we were bathing, it was clear that they didn’t necessarily resent it. They said that I have a quailty that they haven’t learned yet… something that Mistress values… which sets me apart from them. I love my sister slave because they serve my Mistress. I only want the best for her so I want them to serve her well. Because they serve her, I love them. ~~~ Mistress has invited all three of us into her bed early on Saturday night. Much like a teenage slumber party, it is a time where, while we are still slaves, we are more like friends and lovers than Mistress and slave. We play and giggle. We get naked and make love, taking turns with each other. This we do all night. I am so at peace with my life during these times. It is a treasure for my memory when I think that I will be struggling with my obedience. Mistress and I are resting, my face still glistening with the wetness of her desire. We are watching Tiffany and Cheyenne locked in a luxurious, unhurried sixtynine at the end of the bed, clearly oblivious to us. Mistress’ soft hand is stroking my skin delicately. I feel brave with her. “Mistress, is this one…” “Ah. What did I say?” I giggle because it is so hard for me to remember because talking to her is so automatic for me. I roll on my side showing her my butt and she gives me three firm reminder swats that make me squeak but doesn’t wrest my sister slaves’ concentration. Rolling back I continue. “Mistress, am I you’re favorite slave?” I whisper it, not to keep it from my sister slaves but to not disturb their lovemaking which I always like to watch. They really are deeply in love with each other. Mistress doesn’t hesitate in her answer. “Yes, Tamara, you are.” She made sure that I looked at her face. “I love you. I love you more than I realized.” My heart is warming at the same pace my pussy is reigniting. I am surprised by how sudden my tears come as she continues. “That is the danger in these relationships, isn’t it.” She points to Cheyenne and Tiffany. “Those are good girls… good slaves. But I have no investment in them. I could sell them… or butcher them…” The girls pause from licking each other. “Don’t stop.” Mistress’ voice is firm but not angry and the girls dutifully return to each other’s pussys rolling onto their side to continue. “I think sometimes, I love you too much. I could never sell you.” I felt my heart flutter in desperation. “I would never want to belong to another Mistress.” “Precious girl, you have given me everything I could ever want from you and you never considered it a sacrifice.” I lean into the caress of her hand on my cheek. “I haven’t given you everything,” I add idly. ~~~ I knew without voicing it what I had meant all those months ago when I had said it. Mistress had kept it in her heart as well. I knew what was going to happen before Mistress called us in. I could sense it. We all knelt down in front of her which was our normal daily debrief before our evening discipline which will come from her favorite hairbrush tonight. Not my favorite because it is so painful that I feel like my crying is unbecoming, though Mistress has never looked on my crying as anything other than she was doing a satisfactory job disciplining me. She looked at my sister slaves and then at me. I knew what she was going to say because of the same familiar sadness in her expression. How I loved my Mistress. She loved me enough to sacrifice her personal wants in regards to me and was going to allow me to ascend to the highest level of submission. “Girls, I am moving across the Province. The residence that I have there will not be large enough for me to have three slaves so…” Her pause is so heavy with emotion. I smile at her even as my tears well in my eyes. “This one knows already, Mistress,” I said steadily. “Your slaves need to be killed before you move.” She reached out and touched my cheek. “Yes, Tamara. But just two of you.” “Of course, this one is happy to die for you, Mistress.” It was almost brazen in my being so forward. I didn’t want her to be able to back up from what she didn’t want to do. My sister slaves were suddenly struck with ambivilence. Of course, they knew that their lives were forfeit to Mistress’ wishes, but like me, they felt happy with Mistress, even through her firmest discipline. Were they to live longer they would grow into their submission as I had. “I know baby-girl. I will keep my promise to you. I want you to choose the other one to die.” I don’t hesitate with my beloved Mistress. To do so would dishonor her and my sister slaves. “Are you keeping one slave as a concubine, Mistress?” “That’s right.” “Then you should kill Tiffany. She is a better domestic slave than a concubine. Cheyenne is a much better lover and will give you amazing pleasure.” A wry smile comes across her face because she knows that already and knows that I have felt the softness of Cheyenne’s tongue over my pussy numerous time. I also know that I give Mistress the most pleasure. “Very good,” Mistress said. “After discipline, you two take Tiffany out and hang her.” Though she was numb, she instinctively answered with us… “Yes, Mistress.” Then I rose and took my place over her lap and began screaming at the shocking pain of the evening’s discipline ~~~ It is dusk and from my Mistress’ bay window I look out and see the shadowy figure of Tiffany’s nude body swaying in the breeze beneath Mistress’ favorite elm tree. “Mistress, why didn’t you hang this one tonight?” I turned towards her Master bathroom, where she is in her luxurious tub with Cheyenne. My sister slave is lovingly bathing Mistress. She is not speaking because I think she wants to live more than serve and is afraid to trample on what she believes is her good luck. She doesn’t know her strengths yet and that her precocious sexuality is why she lives. I pull at my collar and then walk into the bath room and kneel next to the pool. “This one is ready to die, now,” I continue. Mistress is kneeling with her elbows on the edge of the tub, her hands folded while Cheyenne soaps up her back and bottom. She turns her head to Cheyenne to remind her. “Wash inside my bung...gently.” “Yes, Mistress,” came Cheyenne’s meek response. It might be from the spanking that we got. My buttocks are still stinging angrily from the chastisement we received. “Well, Tamara, its two reasons. One, I don’t want to hang you. Two, I’m selfish and I want you in my bed tonight.” I am torn. Part of me is angry and frustrated because I feel my Mistress is only human and is procrastinating doing something that is very hard for her. Maybe she should send me to the butcher shop though I really want her to kill me. The other part that makes me smile in spite of myself is the one that longs to make love to my Mistress and suddenly knows that I will get to do that again one last time. I start to speak and she raises her finger as her eyes close while Cheyenne tenderly ministers to her rectum. As she withdraws her fingers from her bottom, my Mistress looks back at me patiently. “In the morning, sweet girl. I promise.” She gestures for me to draw close and I think that she is going to kiss me which I love. Instead, she reaches for my collar, loosens it, and then takes it off. “You have never needed this to be submissive to me. It was always for everyone else.” She flipped my precious collar aside and I felt so different and disarmed. She let her hand stray down my bare neck and I can tell that she is measuring where my skin is worn from years of wearing the collar. “Tonight, you are the young woman I am in love with. You are not ‘this one’. You are my sweet girl; my Tamara. She settles back sitting in the water on the back of her legs her eyes fixed on mine. “You’re dismissed Cheyenne. Good night.” “Good night, Mistress,” Cheyenne says immediately rising up out of the huge tub and stepping out. She pauses looking at me and then my Mistress, mouth open to speak but not finding the words. “Of course,” Mistress smiles gesturing to me. Cheyenne falls to her knees in front of me and we hug hard. “Good bye,” she whispers in my ear with a sniffle. I don’t know if it is out of gratitude or sincerely missing me. I watch her young supple nakedness leave the room and I linger over her longer than I realize. “It was a good choice you made,” Mistress said as I continued to watch Cheyenne finally leave my vision. “She’s so hot,” I whispered idly. “She’s beautiful,” Mistress concurred, rising up out of the tub. I started to rise with her but she raised her hand, reminding me that I am not her slave tonight. So I sat back on my legs, my pajamas already begging to be removed feeling my desire for her ache inside me. I know that she wants more than to be service by me, but I love to hear her say it. She walks around the spacious bathroom, drying herself, humming, brushing her hair. She can’t lie to me though. Her nipples are crinkling with anticipation. I can smell the dew of her pussy building and feel my own slicken my nethers. Though I know that I want and need to die soon, there is so much of a life that could have been had between us were we not Mistress and slave. Then the thought gives me pause. Would our love affair bear this kind of intensity were I not so naturally submissive to her and she so openly generous in her leadership to me. We will never know. Finally, she throws me the crumb I have been waiting for. She stands over me naked and beautiful looking down where I first knelt next to the tub. She holds out her hand and lifts me to my feet. I am actually bigger and heavier than her, so homely in comparison, yet she looks at me with eyes of adoration and desire. She brings her face close to mine. “Will you make love with me all night?” “Yes, my love.” I marvel. Not Mistress, but my love and it was so easy and natural. “I love you, Tamara.” My heart is fluttering and she is moving close to kiss me before we begin our sexual extavaganza. “I love you, Robin,” I hear myself say as her tongue comes home where it belongs in my mouth. ~~~ This will be our last time because Dawn is bearing down on us. Her words are resonating with me and are giving me great joy with just a hint of unsatisfactory anxiousness. “You will die slowly and you will be staring in my eyes the entire time.” I think about these words as she is fucking me with her strapon. It is unhurried. I cannot fathom the nearly depraved way we have fucked all night. Sometimes joyful and playful; another nasty and lustful; still another tender and cathartic. This one is like the first. Mistress’ strapon is the kind that she mounts in her own pussy so as she is fucking me, she is also being pleasured. We giggle when she changes pace or plays with my arousal, edging me and then bringing me back… or even edging herself. We have been making continuous love for nearly four and half hours. As the sky begins to lighten, she begins to move in and out of me more urgently. We move from play to deep, loving passion. Our eyes lock and we seek to climax together. It is effortless. “Now,” she whispers. My mouth falls open as if I were her puppet and I begin to squirt around the shaft she pounding me with. We are crying out each other’s names, worshipping God, screaming in pleasure. It lasts for several minutes as the orgasms cascade over each one and the bed is being drowned in my copious, spontaneous ejaculations. Finally, I feel her body give out and she collapses on me, both of us sweating and panting. The moment that I realize we have both come, me for the last time in my life, all I can think of is that it is time for me to die. ~~~ The water in the bath is warm and comfortable. I am resting in her arms one last time. I am no longer worried about her being able to do it. Next to her is a six inch blade to confirm that in me. She kisses me on last time. It is tender, soft and only on the lips. I look up at her and I know that it is time; that she is about to kill me. “You are the best slave anyone could have. I love you with all my heart.” I begin to sob, not out of regret but for the pain of loss that I feel her already having. She reaches for the blade as she kisses my forehead. “This one’s heart is full of joy. You are this one’s beginning and now you are her end.” I can’t stop crying and I don’t want to. I want to experience every nuance of emotion that my death has to offer, even this painful, sad part. The blade disappears beneath the water. “Spread your thighs, baby,” she whispers. “Yes, Mistress,” I whisper back not wanting to destroy the mood. “Ow.” It only stung for a moment and now there is an explosive red cloud emanating from where she has skillfully and easily cut my femeral artery. She puts the blade back and has me settle back against her. She is looking directly into my eyes and I into hers. All I can do is love this woman, love her like a last act of service. Tears are streaming from my emotions, from my body realizing that it is dying. “Does it hurt?” I shake my head with sleepy eyes. “This one thinks that her Mistress should shut up and love me until she dies.” Mistress chuckled and kissed me on my nose. “Yes, ma’am.” She kisses my lips again but they are already growing cold and I am dying faster than I imagined I would. Now, I want to linger but she was cunning, the warm water is acting as an accelerator to my death. Minutes pass and we look at each other in silence. My hand is on her breast motionless, but it is nice to feel her nipple beneath my index finger. I think to move it but can’t anymore so I just love my Mistress… love Robin with my eyes. Suddenly, the irony overwhelms me. “Robin,” I rasp, “you have given me everything I have ever wanted in life… everything, I ever needed. You were my Mistress, my Salvation. But… … ... it was you, who served me.” I managed a smile and felt her snuggling up to me. I let my eyes close and felt myself relaxing in the warm water as I was growing cold. I let my face rest on her full warm breast. My mouth and then nose and most of my face sank in the reddened water. There was no urgency to rise out as my body’s energy and desire to breath finally ebbed and I fell peacefully beyond the reach of my precious Mistress.