So, yesterday was a wild, intense, and fun day and I was not expecting anything special or out of our normal routine. Some quick background details here first before I get to the fun stuff. First, my Master/Daddy/man has a business and regularly has things shipped to his house. I don’t open or go through them, just shoot him a text unless he’s given me a heads-up to do otherwise. Second, we play games and roleplay a lot, and have for the past four years. Third, I chat with a select few online, nothing too serious, but there are a few that I talk with more than others. You know who you are :) My Master reads what I chat about and/or write (occasionally, not daily) and sometimes picks up on things that interest him or me to incorporate. Beyond specifics, he also reads into my general moods and wants. Communication is key, people! Some of yesterday’s play was directly influenced by such things. Again, you know who you are, and thank you! Lastly, while a specific word was used a massive amount yesterday, both in reference to me and as my nomenclature, I will mainly, in my writing outside of dialog, refer to myself as “I,” often my Master as “Jack,” and his best friend as “Tony.” That’s it. Everyone caught up? Good, now to yesterday!

So, I’m an early riser, as those who know me know. Have been for a long time, and I honestly don’t know if it’s from how I was expected to be ready 100% for school in the morning or if I’m just a natural morning person. Regardless, it’s a habit now, and I’m almost always up by 4 am. Sometimes a bit later, often earlier. I woke around 4 and took an early morning jog as I was trying to get in better shape. I’m not overweight, just soft, and I basically have no muscles since I stopped exercising regularly almost 2 years ago. I returned and took a shower, drying off and throwing on one of Jack’s t-shirts before checking my emails and hopping on Reddit. An online friend was up, happy about my last story, and asked if I wanted some pain. While I was not in a “low” mood like I sometimes get in, I was indeed up for some.

I spread my legs on the living room floor, leaned back, and started on myself. No warmup, no teasing. I just parted my legs, stroked my waxed pussy, lightly flicked my pierced clit, and then, taking a deep breath, I slapped my pussy hard. God, it stung, but in a way that I can only describe as cleansing. I’ve never been a cutter, but I think I understand that mentality. I whimpered and chatted with my online friend, softly stroking my lips as we talked. Then he made another request, and I felt like complying. This time it wasn’t one hard slap. It wasn’t two, either. Barely inhaling before each strike, I slapped the shit out of my cunt, open palm, and about as hard as I could hit. I winced and whimpered repeatedly, and by the fourteenth slap, I had to stop, rolling on my side and crying. My lips were on fire, and tears streamed down my cheeks to the carpeted floor. I struggled to breathe and finally regained control, talking to him again. After a bit, I slapped myself five more times, quivering in pain briefly on the floor. I got up, aching wonderfully, and it was soon time to wake my Master.

I went into the bedroom and crawled into bed to start my daily routine with Jack. I pulled down the sheets, poking my head under them, and found his cock. I happily took it in my mouth, sucking softly, and enjoyed his rapid hardening. Sometimes this leads to us having sex, often just to his filling my mouth, but today I was insistent. I took him deep, hungrily, smashing my face down on his crotch as I enjoyed his moans. I started gagging on his cock. Drool ran down my chin, my eyes watered, and my nose ran as I forced it down my throat. I wasn’t going for elegance, and soon my Master responded in kind, holding my head down and pumping his hips in my face. Before long, he balled his hands in my hair, and warm cum ran down my throat as he twitched delightfully.

He pulled me up, kissed me, and firmly held my face in his hand. He mumbled something about how today could work, then stood up and jerked me beside him. I smiled at him as he pulled me to the bathroom.

“You were gagging yourself hard. Were you trying to fucking puke?” he asked harshly. I nodded, still in that almost high place where you look for more, need more. As soon as I nodded, he shoved me by the toilet, jerked my head back, and started gagging me with his fingers. Two at first, then three. I had already gotten close earlier, and after a minute of rough gagging, my stomach churned. He let go as I vomited in the toilet, shuddering, clinging to it.

“What are you?” he asked, and I looked up at him, replying, “Yours.” This earned me a slap, though not a hard one.

“What are you?” he asked again, tilting his head slightly as his eyes questioned me. This time I said, “Your slut,” and that earned me another slap and a stern chin hold while he looked at me.

“Closer,” he said. “What are you?” he asked. This time I hesitated and thought, wiping my mouth. “A cunt,” I said, and this time, he smiled. “Not a cunt, just cunt,” he said. “That’s all you are, all you’ll ever be. It’s your fucking name, isn’t that right cunt?”

I replied, “This cunt understands,” and I knew then he’d read one of my chats. You know who you are. He held my head firmly, and I fulfilled my regular morning role as his urinal. His hot piss flooded my mouth and throat as I swallowed as fast as I could, barely keeping up with his stream. Some ran down my chin onto my t-shirt, but I got almost all of it. After puking, my stomach was more queasy than usual, and I was afraid I would lose it, but I managed to keep it down for him. He grabbed me, jerked me up, and told me to brush my teeth and wash my face while he showered, telling me he had some things for me. I nodded (while I was “cunt”, I’m not gonna write 500 times that “cunt nodded and did as it was told, that’s just tiresome) and got to it.

After he showered, I hopped in, and he told me to take my time since it would take him a minute to get my clothes out. Jack dresses me every day. Outside of my body, it was the first real power I gave to him. I love what he picks out (he doesn’t keep me naked or in slut clothing 24/7, sorry to disappoint, but we have a wide range of moods), and his picks alone can genuinely set my emotional mood for the day. Some things can even profoundly affect how I think. I don’t know how healthy that is, but it is what it is.

When I got out and dried myself, I saw only new things, which made me squeal. Jack pampers me, and I love it when he buys me new clothes and toys. I don’t need them, but for us, it’s a normal part of our relationship. On the bed was a new black dress, satiny with a lovely shimmer, clearly tight, along with one of my black half-cup push-up bras. Beside it was a pair of five-inch pumps, my current plug, a bright red thong, and an open Amazon box. I looked inside and found another open box for a Lush Bluetooth vibrator. I looked at him, and he held it and gave it to me. It was cute, purple, curved, and clearly designed to be “hands-free.” As soon as it was in my hands, he picked up his phone, tapped away, and it started buzzing, which brought a smile to my face.

“Okay cunt, and it is cunt, you know what I want today. You know what makeup to wear. Put your hair in a ponytail, and dress your dumb cunt self in the way you should be. Understand cunt?”

I nodded, knowing what that assortment and his tone meant. He didn’t want slutty, trashy, or bratty me. He wanted the Bimbo. Tits pushed up, pumps to push out my ass, makeup to make my eyes pop, clothes to show off my body, and for me to be a completely vapid dumb fuck. The thought made part of me tingle. We don’t play it often, mostly when he wants arm candy, but it’s always been a reliable escape from being “me.”

As he prepared and cooked breakfast, I fixed my hair and pulled it back into a neat ponytail. I put on my thong and inserted the toy in me before pulling them up. The lube felt cool on my warm cunt, wet from excitement. My lips were still puffy from slapping them earlier in the morning. The plug popped in my ass, and the fullness felt right. Is it a good thing or a bad thing that I feel empty without it? The thong contrasted with the black brilliantly, and I pulled it tight against my skin. It wasn’t a tiny one and gave the Lush some support. I sat down and put on my pumps. That went by quickly compared to the makeup. Usually, I wear it pretty light, but today, it was much heavier. My lips became bright red and full, and my eyes took forever (I hate putting on a lot of eye makeup just for myself). Still, by the end, I was standing in front of the mirror. I didn’t look much like “me,” with the dress showing off ample cleavage and how it clung to me. I almost did look vapid like those plastic surgery sluts. My chest was small next to theirs, even at nearly a D cup, but the bra did its job. Walking with the vibrator felt odd though not too awkward.

I headed into the kitchen, and the smell of bacon frying made my mouth water. I wouldn’t be having that today, though. Bimbos don’t eat bacon. My protein shake was sitting there waiting for me. But I yelped hard before I could pick it up as I nearly fell. He’d activated the toy, and that had caught me by surprise. He smiled and steadied me, stroking my face as he dialed up the intensity before dropping it to zero.

“Do you like that, cunt?” he asked. This cunt did like it very much. I told him so, and he kissed me. He told me he had Plex set up in the living room and that I had one goal today. Watch what porn he had queued for me, touch myself, but no orgasms or thinking. I was shit at it anyway. I was soaked at hearing that and probably wasn’t a great thinker at the moment, anyway. I went to the living room and nearly fell over again as he surprised me with the toy. It worked over the internet as well, which sounded interesting.

As he ate breakfast, I turned on the TV and sat cross-legged, with occasional short vibrations snapping at me. Full on, it was nice but paled to any quality vibrator or Hitachi knockoff. I started Plex and saw what he had on my playlist to watch. Not our typical movies, but porn. Lots and lots of porn. Most of it was of me. But not all. Some of it was illegal, much of it was questionable, and all of it excited me. I started the videos, turned off my brain, and lightly touched myself through my dress as I watched myself being fucked on the screen. He left shortly after, kissing me and calling me his stupid cunt again. Occasionally, I would get a 5-15 second unexpected buzz.

I can tell you that after a bit, it gets surreal to be dressed up, thinking of yourself as cunt, while watching yourself at various ages and dress getting fucked, mixed in with what can only be described as abusive porn. Meatholes, different Kink videos, and some amateur videos I won’t mention, but most of them were of me. This was a first for me. Yes, I’ve watched porn, both by myself and with Jack. Even questionable stuff. Mostly I prefer to read erotica than watch porn, however. But to watch for hours nothing but rough porn and yourself being used? That was a first for me. Randomly the toy in my cunt would buzz, sometimes briefly, sometimes for several seconds, then silence. I touched myself, spread my legs, and rubbed my lips through my thong. I caressed my chest. Soon the room stunk of my sex, and by the gods, I wanted to cum. It was beyond frustrating, and I vacillated between boredom, frustration, intense need, and confusing detachment.

Watching porn for over two hours is hard. I’ll say that much, and I have no idea how guys do it. Doing sexual shit for two hours is fine, but watching was weird. I got up only to get a glass of wine or use the bathroom. Twice, Jack called me, asking me what I was watching, only referring to me as cunt. The word “I” and its variations were forbidden in my responses. I was only cunt. A couple times, he sent me pics. Intense gifs. Poking at wants and fantasies. Before I knew it was almost 11 am. And that was when I heard the knock at the door.

I got up and straightened my dress. I walked, excited, hoping it was my Master. I had made it three steps when the toy erupted in my cunt again. I could barely stand, much less walk at first, but I reached the door. I opened it, the faint buzzing audible between my legs, and found his best friend Tony on the phone with Jack. I stood there, biting my lip, realizing what was happening. He’d called Jack right before knocking on the door. I stood there with quivering legs and a look of lust on Tony’s face. He stepped in, holding me by my hair. He sniffed, and I knew he could smell me, which made me blush. This man had fisted me, yet this made me blush.

“Fuck, you look so hot dressed like that, you fucking cunt,” he said gleefully. Then he noticed that on the TV, a younger version of me was screaming from somewhat painful anal sex and clawing at the bed. He was almost shaking, and to be fair, I already was. The toy hadn’t stopped, and if it had been just a bit more powerful, I’d have already creamed myself. Tony turned me around, looked at me, put his hand on my ass, and cupped my tits like he was inspecting me. If he was, he found me acceptable. He seemed almost lost in my outfit, dolled up in a way he’d never seen before.