Owned True Story

Author: UKBound101
Title: Owned (True Story)
Date: 17 December 2010

This has become serious far more quickly than I could have anticipated. Three months ago my I was just like so many other sub guys; trawling RECON for guys who could give me a bit of fun. I wanted to be bound, wanted to be used, wanted to try new things. I’ve always been turned on by control above all things – whether that be in person or long distance, with steel restraints or a whispered order. I knew this, but I didn’t know what I really was.

I am a slave.

I met my Master three months ago, and at first it was just like other meets I’d had, more exciting and intense certainly, but I didn’t think I would end up his property. Now he owns me. He owns my ass. He owns my cock.
Over the last few weeks I’ve come to realise that his pleasure is all that really matters to me. I get more pleasure from knowing my Master is content than I could possibly ever gain for myself.

I only realised quite how much he meant to me because of a recent unfortunate event; my Master had a serious operation, which meant I couldn’t see him for six weeks. He was in pain and unhappy and I could barely stand it… I would have given almost anything to be with him during that time, serving him, just being there for my Master. I knew I couldn’t do anything to help him, and it made me feel terrible. It was during that time that I really knew I was a true slave, truly dependent on my Master for my happiness, and only truly gaining pleasure when also pleasing my Master.

When I finally got to see my master again, this realisation made our meets even more intense for me. Every time I serve him it is pleasurable for me, because I know that he’s getting pleasure from his slave.
My Master enjoys beating my slave ass with a paddle. At first I found it very difficult, and couldn’t take very much, but given that pleasure for my master means pleasure for me, it was a foregone conclusion that I was going to learn to love it. My skin doesn’t mark easily, and I’m still not able to take extremely hard hits, so my ass is only pink for a brief time… Last time we met he gave me nearly four hundred strokes with the paddle as I lay face down on the bed, grunting and gasping with each strike. After he was satisfied I lay panting into the pillow as he rubbed my stinging skin. He leaned over, and spoke into my ear: ‘Next time I want to mark your ass’.
‘I want that too sir’, I whispered. I knew I was letting myself in for serious pain, like I haven’t taken for my Master before. I also knew that beating my ass like that would be very pleasurable for my Master, and that he’d get pleasure thinking of the bruises left there for days afterwards. The pain means nothing in comparison to my Master’s pleasure. In fact, taking such pain for him is just a good way of showing my devotion.

When we meet I become a sex toy for my master to use. I’m just there for his pleasure, and his pleasure is my reward. If he wants to he will play with my cock, and if not he keeps it locked up in a steelheart chastity device (to which he has the only keys). Sometimes he may want his slave gently sucking his cock, sometimes he may want to fuck my slave ass. Sometimes he may not want to use me at all – in which case he will just store me, helpless in bondage, while he checks his e-mails, grabs a drink, or generally does whatever pleases him. That is my position as sex toy – I become whatever my master wants, whenever he wants… If I’m asleep in the middle of the night, and my Master wakes up wants to fuck my ass, use my mouth, or even just play with my nips for a while, then he does. I’m there for his pleasure, not to sleep. Last time we met I was left tightly bound in a sleepsack for a few hours while my master rested and did some work – I enjoyed the bondage at first, but soon the tightness began to bother me… nothing I could do though. I was there for my Master’s pleasure, and if he wanted me bound tightly I had no right to complain in any way. Secure in this knowledge I even managed a little sleep in the end, knowing that I was exactly where I belonged – under my Master’s strict control.

I am an owned slave.