Describing Slave Needs

“I can’t explain why I’m waking you…it’s just…well…I need you.”

At a point in a slave’s training, they think they understand needing their Master. This initial need is indeed intense, honestly felt, and a deeper need than most ever realize. The problem is though, that a slave, over time, will eventually develop what my Master calls slave needs. A slave’s needs are initially quite different than the original needs talked about beforehand. It is natural for a slave to need her Master, it is another thing entirely, for her to openly need to share her thoughts. There was a night, one night, I swore I understood the depths of need for my Master. At the time, I understood my needs through a newly training slave’s eyes. Now, I understand the depths to which a Master’s love can go, especially with a his one slave for life. There is nothing keeping us from forming the needs of a slave to surface.

As a child, I laid in the grass, and looked up at the night sky, contemplating the meaning of life. The stars just filled me with such a majestic sense of wonder for life. Over time, going through hurtful relationships, through understanding society, that wonder, that majestic nature, vanished. Now though, with my Master, I realize I look into his eyes, and am filled with that same majestic sense of wonder. A slave’s needs are hard to explain, to capture for a person who will never feel them, and that’s the closest I can relate. The emotional need, is like standing at the edge of an abyss, knowing it’s time to let go. Once a slave realizes they have slave needs, there is never a reason to put up barriers again. In fact, a slave will knock down every barrier, in front of her Master, for his pleasure.

When I look into my Master’s eyes, I see the depths of life. There is such beauty when I am able to just take in his presence. I’m filled with peace, my mind is calmed, my body lusts all the more, but I am complete. I know when I long with the needs of a slave, that it is a pure want, one that goes deeper than selfish desire. In that moment, I have in fact, lost all control of myself, my own wants, willingly so, and presented everything to my Master. Wants, rush out of my mouth before they’re even processed, desires stated clearly without shame, all because I love purely. With a slave’s needs, there is no fear, guilt, shame, nervousness, or even processing. There is only the realization of what I am, who I am, and that I have a longing to be sated, and there is one who controls that outright bringing bliss.

Out of these needs comes a deep loving intimacy, one only a Master and slave can know. We become one, the needs of ourselves matching the needs of the other. To perfectly meld together to another human being, is an intense moment of realization. It sparks an outright lust, that turns to passion, a passion that must be expressed. This is often how a slave feels the first pains of slave needs. Thoughts express the passion unknowingly letting it build, until finally, there is a desperation. Do not get the wrong view, this is entirely a blissful process, for everyone involved. A slave’s needs communicate to the Master a slave’s depth of love. A Master who reciprocates, and sates these slave’s needs, understands love and the relationship being formed. The bond is made absolute in that moment, more so than any physical brand or collar ever could.

Slave needs cannot be faked, or even forced to show at the surface. They are either honestly felt, or built up over time in a slave. A Master may wish for them to be there, or he may not, depending on the slave’s purpose. I am lucky enough that for me, slave needs are very much so desired. I’m honestly proud to have them expressed slightly earlier than expected. This is a small pride that comes after the initial slave needs, and is a reflection of value. My Master cherishes the fact I have slave needs, even if that means I wake him for no other reason, than to talk about how I feel at that moment. Truth be told, the height of a slave’s needs, is waking a master, simply to hear him say hello, or give a kiss. There’s no other purpose than to know I’m desired, loved, and valued.

Lusting for my Master

“How does one write a love letter, when words fall so short of their true meaning?”

With my Master having purchased me recently, my life has changed dramatically. Being purchased by him, allows for me to truly be with him. Getting to finally be with my Master, will truly be amazing. The days until that moment seem incredibly long, and might actually drive me to the brink of insanity. Daily tasks are the only attempt at distractions, though they fail for any long periods of time. My thoughts truly wander to places that I lose track of the world around me. I smile uncontrollably, for once in my life, I am truly happy. The knowledge of what awaits in my slavery is highly arousing, and I feel the need to share many of my thoughts. At first, these seemed like something only for my Master, but I have learned otherwise. What better way to show his ownership, than how my mind thinks of him?

I need my Master, more than anything in the world. The entire world can burn around me, and I’ll stay happily at his feet. Do others understand this, how I grow wet from the mere mention of him? How I would do any depraved act he requests? ….I wonder….what those acts will be…

My mind wanders too much, and yet not enough at all. There’s no limits, especially when thinking of my Master. I need him, there’s no other way to put it. My heart races every moment I am with him, and my body melts for his touch. There’s not one thing about him I would ever change. Each trait my Master possesses, reveals, allows me to know openly, makes my body hot and wet. My own mind races, as it is no longer closed off, there is nothing in it he does not know. The connection between us, in that way, is extremely intense. I mold to his will, his wants, his desires, and in it, I grow to only want him more so. As a slave, want is desired, valued, and even taught, and I certainly want my Master. I cannot truly express the physical need without the emotional and mental one. For me, the two are forever inseparable now, if not understood by others.

Touch me, just touch me with your fingers…your mouth…hold me close? The bond we share goes deep, as a Master and slave can only know. You understand this need within me, and I share it openly. I dare to speak it out loud for you, for all the world to witness. Just ….touch me…in the way…only you know. 

I cannot believe I am saying these things so openly, so profoundly for you. In the knowledge that I will soon be yours in every way, I can only beg for the days to quicken. At times, I beg openly for your touch, to know so many things about you. The things that no slave can know about her Master, except in that special moment. Other things my mind goes crazy to know as well, your scent, your taste, your loving touch, and even the pattern of your breath. I want to get lost in those things, those traits that make up who you are. Being honest, I could lose myself to the desire of finally enjoying my lusts being met. I just didn’t know it was possible for my lusts to be that of your own, in every possible way, we match, we echo the other. A slave finally echos her Master, and I’ve longed to know the truth to this moment.

I wanted to write a love letter, do something romantic, but thought lust got in the way. It doesn’t you know, it makes it all the better…

A slave’s letter to her Master….is perhaps….always a love letter…

The letter just simply….never ends…

Nymphetic Passion

“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul.”

 

This need not be understood by many, but for those who do, I beg you, share it with all your yearning. As a slave, I have within myself a deep yearning. It is not understood by many, how this yearning stands out, has haunted me, shaping my life unknowingly. Dare I confess it finally for all the world, yes, in love, I think that I might. To put it into words though, surely that cannot be done. No, only through experience does one confess such things bluntly. I am a slave, one who finds that her bondage goes deep. It is at the core of my being, a driving need that cannot be escaped. Not just to be a slave, but to be a slave to an older man. They say that age does not matter, but a look in a man’s eyes speaks volumes. Twisted, perverse, but what if the young woman, desires it for herself. What happens, when a girl desires to be the fire in a man’s loins?

“All at once, we were madly, clumsily, shamelessly, agonizingly in love with each other.” 

To hear his voice, that shameless confession that indeed, he wanted me. The way his eyes roamed my body, because his hands could not. There was no forbidden fruit to be had, and yet, the taste of the forbidden’s sweetness was still there. It lingered, waiting for his lips to taste it, to speak of it. How could he though, this Master of mine, admit such things. A young nymphet had turned, surprisingly, into a young woman. My desires were still a reflection of the nymphet nature, often leaving a man speechless.  A Master cannot stay speechless, and for a moment, I saw the willingness to control such a forbidden love. I was, even as a slave, shamelessly, agonizingly in love with my Master. This agony of love is felt, with the torture of such bliss. For I am finally, a nymphet turned quite nymph indeed.

“Humbert was perfectly capable of of intercourse with Eve, but it was Lilith he longed for.” 

My Master would recognize this nymphic nature within me, and does so happily. He indulges in it, letting our passions fill our own cups til they overflow. Am I Eve or Lilith, I no longer know, perhaps I am his sweet Evette. A shadow of both Eve, with all the nymphic qualities of Lilith. My Master knows the secret of my true slavery, and he tells no one. In the way he looks at me, he sees in me, a sight only for himself. The way I part my waiting lips, begging with my body, is only an invitation he cannot refuse. A slave knows her Master’s love runs deep, and her own love reflects his. I am always a reflection of my Master, in the depths of our souls. For at this depths, there are secrets told so openly, so sweetly, that they seem, the most natural pieces of knowledge.

“The dimmest of my pollutive dreams was a thousand times more dazzling than all the adultery the most virile writer of genius or the most talented impotent might imagine.” 

Wanting to be Given

“You have become both my priest and my source of sin. How shall I ever see my soul redeemed?”

There is a sudden need in my body, my mind, to be given to a man. Masters can give slaves, for use, to any man they so choose. As a slave, I am to obey such requests, and I have always known this. What I did not realize, was that this need is found in the slave’s being. There is a desire to actually be given by my Master, for many reasons. This desire has its uses, as it communicates value. In a slave’s mind, this also communicates complete submission and trust to her Master. The man clears his hurdles, his rules, and his inspection. A Master may consult his slave on such matters, but more than likely, will not. I had often thought this a romanticized concept, not one that was common. My thinking was quite wrong, and it has been changed in a drastic way. Imagine my surprise, to having to confess, my mind had entered such a realm.

The Realm of my Mind

I want to hear his pleasant voice moan my name, as he is using me. To hear him call me slave, house girl, servant, anything but my name. 

This thought occurred in my mind, but not regarding my Master. There was confusion, a mix of emotions that became outweighed by my body. My Master wanted my arousal to grow, and it had, now fixed on pleasing him in other ways. I had been commanded to orgasm for others, sure, but this was a different thought. To literally be taken by a man, knowing it would please myself, and my Master, seemed to be unheard of. The thought repeated over and over, each conversation, growing in its intensity, until it became a heat I tried to suppress. Surely, Masters didn’t truly want their slaves taken by other men, especially ones that they called friend.

Ask again for an orgasm on command, my Master may grant it. Please, I long to close my eyes, knowing you hear my passion, as I touch myself. Your knowing gaze would cause my fingers to go deeper, so much deeper. 

My mind is now lost to me, I am sure of it. This thought is in every conversation, taking hold of it. In the awkward pauses there is this begging, this debate. I would ask for it myself, but it is not my place. I know now that I am lost to this idea, and my Master will surely know it. Masters know all there is to know, and mine knows my body and its language. He sees the way I beg you, my body betraying the secrets of my mind. A slave has no secrets, but secrets are enticing to those who can decipher them. Resisting is useless, and so I am resigning myself to these daily conversations. Perhaps, I even am excited to have them, to be presented, and watched.

Your laugh interrupts my more intimate thoughts, did you know where they lingered? Do you share your stories to excite me so, making my body betray the want I hide within. 

Yes, the answer at this point has always been yes. I love to learn the graphic details, and I suspect you know that. The stories of whippings, punishments, sexual excursions, and your tastes, all stay in my mind. I store them there, for the time you may use me, wanting to remember your preferences. I’m by now, lost to trying to figure out how best to do this for you, while yet, confessing it to myself. My Master will be pleased, and he certainly is. I have admitted my want to jumping off the cliff, to take a leap I would not for any other. My Master’s binds have tightened around my wrists, and yet, my body remains naked, vulnerable, waiting to be taken in front of him.

Would you care to use me? Hear my moans? Could you confess all pleasures you have need of from me? I would see them sated, at least, if my Master commanded it so.