The world sees me as a woman in control, but she exists out of necessity, not desire.
Underneath my clothes I am a slave, longing for the moment I may submit to my Master again.
Craving the time I may feel and taste my submission, not just mentally, but in the raw flesh.
So I find myself touching my Mark, feeling my nipple rings through my clothes, my clit piercing rubbing against my jeans, and even my nosering dangling when I walk. I feel the need to play with my tongue piercing as if I was worshiping Him with it, and I take strength and comfort when I recite my Mantra.
All the while longing for the moment He will allow me to be me again, give me the release I so desperately need - and set me free.
I was mid-orgasm from helplessly fucking the chain between my legs when He took the clamps off my tits.
The exquisite pain made me cum even harder and afterwards my legs were literally dripping with my slut juices.
They were gone, but I could swear it felt as if they were still hanging from my nipples.
The sensation of my tits still being clamped persisted and I allowed myself to get carried away with it.
They continued to throb through an ass whipping from his belt, some lengthy cock-worship and an ass-fuck.
If I close my eyes I can still feel them....