Masochism of M: A Sexual Mémoir

by Janice Collins

  “Get undressed,” Sir ordered in a growl. I immediately began disrobing in a Japanese tea ceremony, with decorously lowered eyes; Cat, on the other hand, coarsely peeled to bare skin, helter-skelter, dropping her clothes like used toilet paper, totally devoid of the slightest finesse. She was graceless.

  I couldn’t resist a peek from the corner of my eye as she did. I was shocked. Her ribs poked out in emaciation, her belly was grotesquely sunken and streaked with stretch marks; her skin was ashen-brown either from the sun or lack of bathing—it was hard to tell which with her tone so uneven—and she was even skinnier naked than her loose clothing had belied; but worst of all were her breasts! Oh, my. Atrocities! The flat mounds of bosoms she possessed drooped endogenously to tiny, shrunken, red/gray, immature nipple points in a way that made me shudder. I looked away embarrassed for the poor woman. I’d seen enough. She didn’t seem to care. She had NO reservations.

  I continued to unfasten and undress slowly, folding and placing my things in a neat little pile with a smoothing touch. Stripping was an art. Why do you think they call it 'strip tease'? I could literally feel the sexual tension mounting around me with every article of clothing I removed. Again, all eyes, including Cat’s now were on me. Cat had long finished awkwardly ripping off her clothes, and was now laying back, licking her lips and slathering, her beady eyes boring holes. Cat’s rumpled shorts, panties, and tee were tossed in a heap while I was seductively taking my time.

  All was going well when suddenly...

  ... my wide-eyed innocence exploded! Every nightmare had come to life. Just as I’d dreamt, there it was, humiliation so dreaded I never believed I could survive it. Pulling the last of my dress over my head, I saw it: Sir was touching Cat, and worse, she was kissing him, but worst of all, he was rubbing her clit! I refused to accept it, but yet how could I not? I was his, and he called the shots.

  I finished undressing. Then just as my brain was frying in disbelief, it got even worse...

  ... Sir had dropped quickly to his knees and stuck his head between Cat’s nasty, skinny legs! Oh no, GOD no! NO! NO! He was licking her!

  I couldn’t believe it. I refused to believe it. This wasn’t true, not my Owner! Not Sir! Submitting himself before a woman, and on his knees? No, no, no, no, no, this was simply not happening. My temples were pounding. My body went numb. Then I heard the words as Sir lifted his head from her glistening snatch:

  “Don’t you want to taste a warm, juicy pussy?”

  Wha...? I thought. Everything was coming through in waves. My brain re-filtered it. Yep, he’d said exactly what I thought he’d said, and it wasn’t a question. It was a command.

  I scooted to replace him at her clit.

  OK. At least my Owner’s mouth was off her. If I had to trade places to keep it that way, so be it. I began to service this scrawny, naked, repulsive woman, putting my mouth on her cunt ... wetted with my Owner’s saliva and her own slutty juices. At least she smelled clean. For the first time in my life I had my mouth on a female clitoris. Instinctively I knew exactly what to do. A woman does, after all.

  I sucked the little hardening knob at the same time I gently inserted my thumb into her cunt, and then I cheated. I let my saliva flow over her clit and, lips still close to it, rubbed with my finger instead of my tongue. She had no reaction whatsoever. She was like a granite statue. Offering no signs of pleasure in any way; she simply lay back on the French brocade couch like a splayed fish—a cold, dead splayed fish.

  Without an ounce of emotion she uttered, “You are about to make my husband’s fantasy come true.” But she wasn’t talking to me... she was talking to Sir. As it should be, after all. I am merely his Ming vase.

  I massaged and then licked and sucked her with mounting passion, but this frozen bitch still gave no reaction; in fact she could have been asleep, or had an epidural numbing her from the waist down.

  Suddenly I felt rough hands grabbing me from behind and lifting me. Reprieve!

  “Uh oh, somebody wants you... ” Cat muttered flatly. Honestly, there was more pizazz in a jar of mayonnaise.

  “Suck me,” the lusty voice said. It was Sir! Thank god, it was Sir! I had been pardoned and saved, just as he said he would do. Gratefully I obeyed. I spun my body to him and fell on his dick like the hungry whore I was.

  Behind me, feeling all neglected, Mal was making slobbering sounds as he stood, bug-eyed, watching this scene. He wasn’t at all interested in Cat, who hadn’t moved an inch from doing her best imitation of a dead, spread-eagled turkey on the couch. Sir undoubtedly felt a little guilty at not sharing his possession. After all a good buddy shares his toys, right? Sir would never be rude.

  My Owner turned his still-kneeling submissive toward a drooling Mal, whose pants had long since disappeared. He stood before me buck naked, hard dick in hand, and eyes glazed over like giant white saucers. His labored breathing was coming in spurts, and his face was as the color of a coronary victim’s. Yet even now he tried weakly to make little insane jokes about the situation.

  “Is...is it my turn? Me?” He whimpered. “I get to cum before Cat for a change?...Hahaha.”

  Jokes. Seriously? Soooo sexy. Shut up and drive, Mal.

  Sir had not given me strict instructions, so the imp in me would get away with anything I could.

  It was to that end that I seductively began a slow crawl on all fours toward the quivering Mal, my squinty eyes staring straight at him and tongue licking the pussy juice off my lips like a rabid animal. Poor Mal was now so certain of what he was about to be gifted that his dick blatantly jerked with anticipation. All watched breathlessly as Sir’s private whore inched her way ever closer to Mal, while I never took my bead off Mal’s glassy eyes just to further his torture. Mal could positively feel me sucking his cock, feel my juicy, hot lips on his hardening dick. Oh man!

  ... and THEN...

  Ha! Like a shot I scooted impishly straight through his parted legs and out the other side! I flipped on my back and cackled evilly, watching Mal’s shocked dismay as Sir and Cat bent double laughing with me.

  Mal was humiliated, as his wilting dick attested, but he tried hard not show it. He was obviously used to Cat humiliating him on a regular basis. I mean honestly, begging for his dick to be sucked? He deserved it.

  He did recover nicely though; instead of crumpling in chagrin he simply requested Sir’s permission to take me in the other room and fuck me. He asked my Owner, who of course said yes. Well, kudos to the man with his dick in his hand.

  How could Sir refuse? It was a party, after all, and I was the entertainment.

  I was finished toying with Mal anyway; my little humbling of him was my coup de grace. Mal would now be so pissed and horny he would probably fuck me to death, and Sir was sanctioning it.

  What else could Sir do... me being that party and all.

  With forgiving and innocent eyes, I looked back only once at my Owner as Mal wrenched me off to several rooms away. Sir’s expression showed clearly that he was just as lost as I was. Bewildered and confused, he looked totally unsure that our coming here was the right thing to do at all. I could see it in his eyes. But ‘M’, his masochistic submissive slave was here to obey. Sir had brought me to party ‘with a couple of friends’, and it was far too late to turn back now... I suppose. After all, the play’s the thing, right?

  'May be the devil, and the devil hath power

  T’ assume a pleasing shape. Yea, and perhaps

  Out of my weakness and my melancholy,

  As he is very potent with such spirits,

  Abuses me to damn me. I’ll have grounds

  More relative than this. The play’s the thing

  Wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the king.'

  Perhaps Sir was getting more than he bargained for. I know I was. I was in way over my head. Sir was melting into the settee with the black widow spider ready to pounce, and he had to service her before being devoured.

  Sir looked absolutely sick.

 
The library into which I was taken was several rooms away from Sir and Cat. There were paneled French sliding doors to close between us, and Mal closed them. This room was more beautiful and rich-looking than the first, and the dark-stained, wide floorboards deeply reflected every tiny light. A huge, mahogany, concert grand piano poised authoritatively near the windows, and above us a narrow, wrought iron balcony off the second floor ran the full length of the walls. The ceilings were at least twenty feet high, the floor-to-ceiling windows nearly as high. Every manner of embellishment was in the room either on stands, on marble-inlaid tables, or on windowsills. Only the finest for the 'rich fuckers' who paid dearly to lease these rooms for their partying pleasure.

  Well, Mal and Cat were hosting another party tonight, and I was ‘it’. Sir’s personal-whore-submissive-sex-slave was the entertainment. Wouldn’t that have made a lovely header on an invitation...? 'Sex-slave festivities tonight; bring your hard-on’s and juicy pussies for sucking and licking.' But this was exactly what made O feel so special, of course. Submitting, being given freely to Sir Stephen’s friends and mentor, like a Ming vase... a possession prized beyond all measure and proven so, because only that which one possessed could be given away. Certainly. That was the sole existence of a submissive. Sir’s submissive—‘M’, who I was at last.

  The Library...

  Mal had me lay on my back on the burnished wood floor as he first started fucking me. He no longer asked me anything, he just 'did' it. He towered over me, lifting my legs high in the air, spread eagle as he rammed hard into me. Then he had me turn around on all fours so he could fuck me doggie style. He didn’t take my ass, because (I was told later) he did not have permission of my Owner to do so.

  Nonetheless, Mal plowed me unmercifully like a demon from Hell. It was as if—no longer under his wife’s and Sir’s scrupulosity—he was making me suffer for all the humiliation Cat had ever put him through, and all the jealously of Sir that he’d endured of Sir bragging on me. He rocked me till I thought I would scream... in frustration! I so wanted it to be over. I wanted no more of him and his lusty whisperings:

  “I will fuck you in the mouth, and let the cum spill out over your lips.” (He grabbed my face as he plastered his wet mouth to my ear.)

  “I will have you like this again whether [Sir] says so or not!“(He growled as he pounded me doggie style, claws digging into my flesh.)

  “I want your ass so badly, fuck [Sir]! Fuck him! I will have your ass no matter what he says!” (This one was too much, this evil man taking my Owner’s name in vain as if he had a semblance of equality with my SIR! I bucked to rid myself of him, which he mistook for ecstasy.)

  He grabbed and pinched my nipples so hard as he reamed me, I wanted to scream, but I would not give him the satisfaction. I was determined to have them ripped off rather than lower the dignity of Sir’s private whore to scream for this lowly mundane. I had been used by the best—a god—and this man could never compare. I would not scream for him, though he hurt me badly. He disgusted me, but still, I had to honor Sir.

  I was thinking of anything I could, to make him finish. The floors were hard: “Don’t hurt your knee, Mal,” I purred.

  “What knee?!!?” He quipped, fucking me even harder.

  Well that didn’t work. So instead I just got more seductive and sexier, encouraging his abuse of me.

  “Yeah, fuck me!” I whined. “Fuck me harder, HARDER! Hurt me with your cock, baby! Hurt me! Hurt me bad!””

  That worked. He exploded with gusto.

  He shot so hard, so profusely that the cum burst out of me and dropped viscously to the floor in a big, fat, gooey blob. Oh no...Mal stopped dead.

  He looked down at the puddle in horror, as I turned and saw it too. The floor! Defiled! The famous boards that Mal would have to scrub on hands and knees in probable futility to remove the stain which he himself had made. It may never come out! It may disfigure the famous floor...dum dum da dum...FOREVER!

  “I don’t care!” He exclaimed like a child stamping his foot, defying Mommy, his dick shrinking.

  He looked as if he’d cry. If he thought I cared he could shit and fall back in it. All I wanted was to get out of there and back to my Sir. I was so glad Mal had spurted at last.

  “I’m going to have you again!” he stated emphatically. Then with gusto, “I want to go again!”

  ‘Oh no!’ I wailed mentally; ‘this can’t be happening. Sir, Sir! my brain screamed. Rescue me! Where are you?! Rescue me! Rescue me PLEASE!’

  But my knight in shining armor didn’t materialize. No rescue. I was on my own. I was so desperate to be free of this man who was disrespectful of my Owner, who hurt me without pleasuring me. And he wanted to use me again? No way!

  The imp returned. I scooted away from Mal more nimbly than an eel in water, hopped up, and dashed straight for the French doors. I shoved them aside and skittered through, feeling Mal’s hot breath right behind me, his hands ready to grab me at any second, but it was only my imagination. As I turned to look, Mal was still in shock, kneeling paralyzed on the floor, his glob of cum soaking into the ancient old planks of the priceless floor... the same floor that was carried by ship, board by board a century ago from Napoleon’s palace to be fitted and restored as the flooring of this mansion now. The floor that Mal would have to scrub and polish to rid of the mark. It was priceless.

  I raced to the room where my Owner had given me to the couple, but my heart sank; he was not there. He was somewhere in the mansion fucking that awful scab of a woman, or worse, out in the night where he loved so much to fuck me. I was crazy with sadness and too ashamed to feel my dream’s jealously, lest it come to life for real. I just grabbed my dress and hose and slid them on. I dressed so quickly that I didn’t realize I had dropped the black flower decoration of my belt. Still in shock, I simply buckled the metal of it around me and hurried on, too upset to notice. I donned my heels and then I thought better of completely abandoning Mal. Sheepishly I slunk back to him. But dressed, and with time lapsed, I was sure there was no way he’d be in 'shape' to still want to fuck me. Especially with his trauma of the —dum dum dum—cum-stained floor!

  Mal met me half way there. He was heading for his clothing as well. With his dick pointing at the floor, he didn’t look at all like a man expecting seconds that night. I was overjoyed.

  I sat in the Napoleon Room on the piano bench, swinging my feet like a child awaiting her fate, solely intent upon conjuring my Owner from whatever ethereal plain he was on. Mal entered the room, once again clothed and donning his brace on the knee that was no doubt throbbing now that the endorphins had worn off, when right on cue, in answer to my spells, my Owner also walked in, trailed by a surly looking Cat. Sir cleared his throat and sat down; Cat plunked. They were on opposite ends of the couch. Hmmm, what did I sense here?

  Mal immediately began talking about how he’d fucked my brains out and exploded all over the place, and how he’d love to do it again. He piped that he’d love to be Sir’s 'own private X-rated porn movie' for Sir and Cat to watch. Mal was overjoyed and obviously still horny. I couldn’t meet my Owner’s gaze, too afraid he’d acquiesce. I would do it, of course, but it would finish breaking my heart.

  Still on cloud nine, Mal asked Sir how it went. Sir didn’t answer. He simply sat sprawled on the couch, crunched in the corner like a limp rag doll. His ashen face— plaintive and bewildered—told the tale.

  Instead Cat spat, “I came three times; and [ ____ ]…” she paused while my heart sank, “… not at all!” Her voice seethed with loathing and self-pity, angry frustration dripping from every pore.

  WHAT? My brain exploded. WHAT WAS I HEARING???!!!! My broken heart slammed back together in my chest. What had Cat said? What had this nasty woman who had deemed to touch my Owner said?! Had I actually heard that Sir hadn’t cum? Not once? Not at all? This was too much to hope for.

  I was on top of the world!

  Sir didn’t deny it. In fact he didn’t confirm or deny anything. He jus
t sat in stony silence, staring straight at me with those bewildered, lost, child-like eyes, looking profoundly ill.

  The uncomfortable atmosphere blatantly declared that this party was over. Smack in the middle of ‘Happy Hour’ and the endless excited babblings of a still het up Mal, Sir stood bolt upright and announced it was time to go. That was my German Sir. Jawohl!! Boom. Done. Gone. I was never so happy to leave a 'party' in my life. Of course, I was the party, and when I left—to the couple’s apparent chagrin—so did their good time. Too f’ing bad. I had honored my Owner. I had been a good submissive.

  I was done, too.

  Sir made some parting grunts as he strode across the beautiful wooden floor and bulldozed his way through a side door to the private section of the house with me in hot pursuit, followed by Mal, as a protesting Cat brought up the rear.

  “Please don’t go!” She was begging Sir. “It’s so early, yet! Stay!”

  Sir paid her not the slightest heed. If he had to plow through her and a concrete wall, he was outta there.

  Sir seemed to need no direction to the nearest exit. Oddly he was totally familiar with where he was going. He swiftly maneuvered from the show room, into the private living quarters, through the kitchen, and had his hand on the mudroom door. Fine by me! I wanted only and so desperately to leave this place behind. I wanted it so badly I could have screamed! Oh, to shake the dust of the 'unbeautiful people' from my coat tails and never look back.

  Mal had other plans. One more gauntlet for me to run before freedom.

  Cat sped past Mal and me to catch up with Sir as he stiff-armed the outside door. Sir hesitated just long enough in looking back at his submissive to check her progress that Cat fell on him like a ton o’ bricks.

  “You can’t go. It’s only like... 9:00!” She whined. “You can’t just go yet... please!” But Sir wasn’t listening. He stormed straight through the door and into the night. I believe if that door hadn’t have opened he’d have broken it down.