The final step (real)(2)

- "Look bitch, the first thing you need to understand is that for me this is not a game: once I accept you, you won't be able to go back." I shuddered but somehow felt inside me that after breaking up with my girlfriend I had to let myself go towards what I always knew was my destiny.

- "Yes MASTER, I understand and I'm willing." Right there he slapped me, leaving for sure his fingers marked on my face. - "Bitch, if I call you 'bitch' it's because from now on you are a female." It took me a second to realize. - "Sorry MASTER: this bitch is 'willing' MASTER."

- "You will have a three-month initiation period. If by the end I see that your surrender is complete, physical and mental, I will take you as a permanent slave and maybe, at some point, I will bring you to live with me, like a bitch. But if in these three months you refuse anything I order, or if you don't show up, even once, I will continue to use you as a cheap whore to relieve myself on Mondays, but I will not take you as a slave. I won't lie: your future will be one of pain and degradation. You know I am sadistic and filthy: for me, guys like you are not men or people, and exist only for Men like ME to satisfy desires and perversions that a common person would never allow. That's why for me you're a cheap whore; less than a cheap whore. I could never fall in love or be friends with 'something' like you. It is very important that you understand this. Do you understand, bitch?"

A wave of heat flooded me from within. I had never felt like that before. So naked, physically and emotionally. On my knees before a man who told me bluntly what I was and what will happen to me. In reality, I still don't know if I really can, but I want to be able to. Every part of me pushes me to enter this black hole. Something inside me is breaking and surrendering to a current that no longer depends on me. - "Yes MASTER, this bitch understands."

- "Open your mouth then, bitch, you're going to start! Kneeling, hands behind your back, and with your mouth always open: that's your basic position from now on," said the MASTER putting on a pair of black latex gloves. Immediately he took a container he had prepared, full of a viscous yellowish white liquid. "This is your Whore's Elixir: a cocktail of my spit, snot, saliva, semen, and urine. Look at it well, bitch, because you're going to drink it every time you meet me, wherever and whenever I say. From now on, it will be your favorite drink." The MASTER took the container and spat from the depths of his nostrils. I wasn't mentally prepared for that. I had prepared myself to be punished physically, or to be tied up or chained, or maybe violated, but that... "Everything that comes out of ME and enters your cheap whore mouth is savored like a delicacy and swallowed like a sacred food! Do you understand, bitch?"

I barely had time to nod when the MASTER took my head like a bucket and started pouring the Whore's Elixir into my mouth. A rancid thick taste, impossible to explain, filled my oral cavity. My body reacted with immediate nausea when the MASTER held me violently and covered my mouth so nothing would come out. - "Don't even think about spitting or vomiting, bitch! Savor it and swallow it!" My mind began to struggle with my body as if it were an enemy. It was impossible to avoid vomiting. The gag reflexes were convulsive but the MASTER held me and plugged my mouth with invincible force.

I immediately knew that not only did I have to try to swallow that, but above all try to find a way to enjoy it. After all... what did I expect? I learned long ago and accepted that being a real slave was not exactly a bed of roses. It was, by no means, the first time someone did something I didn't like to me. Haven't I already learned enough that this has nothing to do with "my taste"? I can hardly remember the last time a Master did something I "liked" in a vanilla sense. It's been a long time since "my taste" has not been my taste, but to feel useful as a slave (female slave) and feel how the Master enjoys using me to satisfy His perversions.

I tried to visualize the Master's fluids in my mouth as if it were an intimate communion. Or was it not? The Whore's Elixir was the Master himself inside me, entering me. The Master took the trouble to prepare the Elixir for me, giving me a part of HIM, putting a part of HIM inside me. I'm not saying that it prevented me from continuing to feel nauseous, but it helped me a lot not to vomit and to be able to receive the Master inside me. I have to be honest with myself: I didn't like it, but not only did I feel I could overcome my body, my gag reflexes, for HIM, but I felt that HIS essence filled me inside. I don't know, it's hard to explain. I thought about what the song says: "a religious experience."

Like a jointed doll, as soon as I swallowed the last drop of the Whore's Elixir, he grabbed me by the neck to finish inside me. I felt all His power entering me. I felt the pleasure of the MASTER taming me. I felt pleasure from His pleasure. I felt it.

When he was done with me, I was a wreck. Dirty, drooling, with His semen dripping. "Get out, bitch!" he said, throwing my clothes at me. I felt very bad. Had I failed HIM? I did everything I could to overcome my body and my cultural conditioning. Wasn't it enough? I am willing to do more, much more. I just want to be and do what HE decides I should be and do. If I have time, I will make the Whore's Elixir the greatest delicacy in the universe for me. This was yesterday. Today he sent me a message: "bitch, on Thursday shaved, clean with two enemas, at the service door of my house at 2 p.m."