I don't know if it is the return of the long lost sunshine or the way the material of my spring dress is clinging to my otherwise naked body or simply because of some deeply ingrained primal need but I sit here at my desk absolutely mad with the desire to have him to fuck me! God help me, I need him to fuck me with that mightiness that only he possesses.
On days like today, days when he has instructed me which dress or skirt I am to wear, I am more aware than ever of his complete control of my sexuality. The typical result of this act of submission is that I feel quite randy and am bombarded by thoughts of sex and domination. Today is no exception. In fact, I seem to be even more horny than usual.
What is it about submitting to his commands that turns me on so? Why does wearing the outfit he requests with no panties or bra have the power to put me in sexually aroused tizzy all day? Before I discovered this, I never knew a state of arousal could be so strong or last for such extended periods of time.
He also has complete authority over when and if I may have an orgasm. Obeying his instructions regarding my sexual pleasure is like being infused with pure energy! When he says it is time, I can almost cum immediately. When he says no, the tension that builds is incredible and brings me to heights of horniness, I never knew existed! Either way, I experience a thrill and a high matched by no drug.
My dedication to obedience is so strong that despite knowing I could probably pleasure myself without his knowledge or not dress as he has specified, I would not do so. Or maybe it is that I could not? I'm not sure. I just know his domination over my sex is complete and unyielding.
Today, he has picked out a light, floral summer dress for me which seems to hug my body in all the right places. I was also instructed that there were to be no panties or bra worn, a request which never fails to give issue to my libido control. So, as I sit here completely naked under this very thin dress, I am beginning to feel the familiar patterns one experiences in a state of heightened physiological activity. My nipples are and have been erect all morning. Several times I have found myself unconsciously, yet discretely, rubbing my wrist against them, thinking about the pain and pleasure of nipple clamps. My pussy is quite engorged and has that full, heavy feeling. I am only too aware of the sensations it is giving off, slight jolts of electricity that make me clench my kegel muscles over and over. My pussy reminds me of an overstuffed suitcase, the zippers peeling back and threatening to rip wide open. I feel the familiar wetness of that sweet sauce, which has now begun to lightly coat the upper part of my inner thighs.
As the day wears on, the work on my desk is beginning to pile up and I really resent having to think about it. I wish it would just disappear. Doesn't anyone understand that neither my body nor my mind is in any condition to give this stuff the attention it needs? At this moment, I am completely lost in the creative, sensual side of my personality. Don't get me wrong. I appreciate the technical, downright nerdy side of my brain and it does most definitely bring me a different kind of satisfaction. I just have no time or patience for it right now.
I want only to focus on this basic animalistic urge to have him possess and dominate me in that way that only he knows how to do. Oh, how I long for him take me by force and to control this venomous desire to rip him apart! I am once again touched by what a true master he is at restraining my urges. These urges that that both he and I know all too well, are too powerful for me to contain on my own.
Whether a blessing or a curse, he has undoubtedly been gifted with the innate knowledge and ability to bring a woman to previously unknown heights of ecstasy while at the same time, inspiring her to obey and submit to his every sexual command. What am amazing thing! I have not known another with this power and control and I don't believe it is something that can be taught or learned. It is something that one is born with, a rare blend of physical and psychological chemistry that very few will ever know, much less possess.
Recently, he has been teaching me some much needed movement control. When left to my own devices, I become a wild animal, scratching and clawing him and everything around me desperately trying to reach that euphoric state of satiation. All he has to do is simply touch me and my passion is ignited and I am transformed into some insane, out of control wild beast. It is in this state, that my sexual urges become pure instinct and I lose all conscious control over my movements. Most times, it isn't until he is finished with me and I think back to it that I even realize what has happened. It is as if my passion is a being of its own and I am simply watching the movie in my head after it is over. I envision myself as part of a faceless tornado, full of colors, sounds and sensations devastating everything in its path. During this time there is no intentional thinking or planning on my part, just feeling and experiencing. It is the ultimate definition of a surreal experience and one matched by no other.
I am honestly not very good at this movement control despite my deep desire to please him. Even the restraints he uses are often no match for my strength when I am overcome by my passion. It is only when he calmly informs me, in a composed, velvety voice, of the consequences of breaking free, can I calm down. In fact, I calm down immediately. Sometimes I need a sharp reminder but will always soon become fully compliant.
Today, however, right at this exact moment, I am feeling like nothing could control my fire. I feel physical and powerful and my lust is a speeding train with no brakes. I want to stomp my feet and break things. I feel like I could lift a car and toss it across the street. Maybe, not even he could rein in these urges. Could that be?
Who am I kidding? I know deep down that in just mere seconds he could and most definitely would bring me immediately under his control. He may very well need to slap me or roughly grab my throat, look deep in my eyes and tell me exactly how I will behave. It is only then that my angst will begin to dissipate and my demeanor become docile and compliant. It is here, in this almost trance like state that I will feel safe and secure. Perhaps, all of these things are why my craving to be fucked by him is so strong or maybe it is something else, a reason I'll never know.
No matter what the reason, the day has been wearing on and these urges at times feel unbearable. Why is it that these damn urges know only how to grow? I suppose that being fed by the shooting sensations radiating from my plump pussy and the damp dew on my tightly crossed thighs gives them no choice but to grow. I also know from experience they will most certainly keep growing until they have no choice but to explode into a glorious orgasm. Until then, I will live as some kind of subhuman creature, heat and sex dripping from every pore.