My name is Alex

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Ssr.jpg A story or article written by Robin Roberts

My name is Alex and I have been assigned to serve the Master of the House for the day. His regular slave has gone into town for a Doctor's visit and I have been ordered to assume her duties.

At 7am, I knock on the door to his bedroom and quietly enter. I kneel beside the bed and await his orders. He looks at me and indicates that I should get his robe and slippers from a chair near the bed. He puts them on and walks to his office with me trailing behind. He sits down at his desk and I am instructed to fetch coffee and juice, which he drinks while he watches the morning TV news at his desk. I kneel on the floor next to the desk while he scans his e-mail inbox and checks the telephone on his desk for messages.

He turns his chair me and, pointing to me, indicates that I should massage his feet. I reach into the little basket under the desk and remove a towel and a small bottle of coconut oil. While I massage his feet, I look up and see him leaning back in his chair, eyes closed, a smile on his face.

After several minutes, I am told to wipe the oil from his feet and put his slippers back on. I am instructed to stand with my forearms crossed behind my back and my feet about twenty inches apart. I am wearing only red high-heels and a matching red leather collar. In a word, I am on display with my arms behind my back and feet spread. I am being displayed to anyone who cared to look at me. The Master occasionally looks in my direction but he is almost ignoring me. I feel so totally vulnerable -- even more than if I were totally nude -- the heels and collar seem to only amplify my nudity.

He goes back to his computer while I stand next to him. I notice that my body is becoming sexually excited as it begs for his touch. I say nothing, but my sex is suddenly moist and screaming for attention. My nudity is escalating my sexual excitement. The collar continuously reminding me of my role.

He finishes about half of his cup of coffee when he stands up and turns from his desk. He walks around me looking, touching and sometimes pinching me here and there. His robe and slippers makes my nudity feel even more intense. He puts his hand between my legs, and when he touches and opens my labial lips, he steps closer to me. His face is but a fraction of an inch from mine. He smiles and utters a single word command, "Kiss!" I keep my hands behind my back in mock bondage. Lifting my face toward his, I close my eyes and passionately kiss him on parted lips. I obscenely guide my tongue between his teeth as our tongues dance their dance.

Unfortunately, my body has taken control and I press my sex onto his hand. His finger touches my clit and my breathing quickens and entire body goes into overdrive. The Master steps away from me and I feel my life come to a halt. My breathing halts, my heart stops. "Enough for now," he says, "go start the shower."

I walk on wobbly knees to the bathroom and adjust the shower water. I take a clean towel from the towel bar, fold it over my arms and stand with my back to the wall as I have been taught. When the Master enters the bathroom, I lower my eyes to avoid direct contact. "Underwear," is all he says and I know that I am to go to his bedroom and get appropriate shorts, T-shirt and socks. When I return to my place on the wall, he opens the shower door and orders me into the enclosure. I set the towel down and remove shoes and collar.

"Wash me," is spoken meaning I am to use Neutrogena Rain Bath gel and my hands to wash his body. When I finish rinsing his body, he locks his fingers into my hair and forces me onto my knees in the tub. My mouth is guided onto his cock and I know what to do. After a few minutes and before he comes, he withdraws from me again leaving me unfinished. He has me stand and turns me so that I face the far wall. He guides my hands on to wall and kicks my ankles so that I spread my legs. Taking the mobile shower head, he rinses all traces of soap from my body. Again, he inserts a finger into my anus. Oh my God, the pressure hurts so good. He rinses his hand and then slides it into my vagina. Just as I am about to explode, I am ordered from the shower and told to dry off.

He finishes his shower and opens the doors. I dry his body and while I am drying his legs, my mouth is again guided to his cock. I am just gaining that musical rhythm when I am ordered to stand. He orders me to bend over and grab my ankles. He slaps my bottom about a dozen times and suddenly inserts a vibrating butt plug into my anus. He tells me that I am to use my muscles to retain it in place with a warning of punishment should it fall out.

We go to the bedroom where he gets dressed. I am instructed to again wear heels and collar and to return to his office. He returns to his computer keyboard, totally ignoring my presence. I am not sure if I have done anything wrong, or what is going on. It seems that about every ten to fifteen minutes, he touches or plays with my body. A hand on my ass, a nipple tweak, a thumb into my vagina or a finger or two into my mouth. My body spends several hours of this roller coaster ride of pain, extreme turn on and then being ignored. There is no way those sensations and the plug could be ignored.

My primary assignment this morning seems to be keeping his coffee cup filled and to be a toy for his whimsical pleasure. He continues to sexually excite me and then stops short of allowing me to orgasm. A few times, he would have me place my hands flat on the desk and then strike my ass with his hand, a paddle or a cane. I would have to thank him, tell him the count and then ask for another. I had to remain absolutely still or he would repeat the count. The number seemed to random each time I bent over, and I never knew how many strikes I would have to endure. He would again bring me close to orgasm, have me stand, and then ignore my quiet begging to climax.

Just before lunch, the Masters slave returned from town. I am told to give her a hug, kneel at her feet, and thank her for allowing me to serve in her absence. I am dismissed from his personal service and told to return to my own, prescribed daily chores.

I spend the next few days thinking of all the feelings that I had experienced. The pain, the vulnerability and forced sexual attacks. I try to think of some task that would require his slave taking a weeklong trip so that I could again take her place.

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