Evolutionary wank

Masturbation has been a major pleasure for almost my whole life. I was an early starter, playing every night in bed as a child. Long before I was old enough to orgasm, I'd bring myself to a magical brink of something... and sometimes manage to slip over it into a sudden sense of satisfaction and contentment, sending me peacefully off to sleep...

No wonder, then, that for me, playing with myself is about far more than just getting off. It is a comfort, a release of endorphins, a way of decreasing anxiety and increasing wellbeing. I use it to de-stress and unwind, to cure insomnia, to wake myself up, as a motivator, and as a relaxation technique. If I don't get to play for a while, emotional stress accumulates in my body as sexual tension.

It has been quite some time now since Master took away the freedom to touch myself and made it an occasional privilege... and honestly, I'm surprised at how well I've coped. It has probably been good for me, not just for my training, but also for life - I'm being forced to find alternative, more 'traditional' ways of letting off excess energy.

But sometimes, it is so hard to bear. Like yesterday. Yesterday, I spent hours quivering on the edge of orgasm. When I sat I found myself tilting my pelvis and rocking back and forth against the chair. I compulsively pinched the skin around my pubic area, clenching my thighs, the closest I could come to touching my pussy without feeling I was being disobedient. Peeing becomes an intense experience at times like these, the stimulation of the warm fluid followed by the paper makes me twitch.... almost enough to tempt me to orgasm.... but I don't dare.

Does that even sound believable, that I wouldn't give in?

When I first became my Master's exclusive property, I struggled to convince some of my old "playmates" of my loyalty to him. Many tried endlessly to convince me to sneak a fuck, thinking that if they just said the right things, surely this horny slut would put out once more... he'd never know, right? But he would know. I would never be able to keep it from him, even if I somehow summoned the insolence to try. And thats beside the point anyway, because I would never want to keep my mistakes from him - and thats something vanilla people always have a hard time grasping. I don't want to get away with anything!

For starters, my dignity as a submissive and my pride as his property depend on complete devotion to him. If I compromised this, how could I respect myself? And secondly, I want, as much as he does, to be under his complete control. As much as it can torment, and even frustrate me at times, I belong there. His ownership and his faith in my loyalty mean everything to me. If I betrayed that, it would not just mean his anger, his disappointment, his severe punishment, and my own shame - but most of all, the loss of this blissful sense of belonging to him.

That was my reasoning in the beginning, for not breaking my Master's trust. Over time the reasons changed to one that is much simpler, but has even more meaning: I am my Master's property. I have no right to lend his property to anyone else, only he can. And the same applies to playing with myself - I don't have the right to use his property any more than anyone else does. I must wait until he offers me the privilege.

That principle feels deeply right when it comes to play with others, but when it comes to playing with myself, although I can recognise its truthfulness, the real meaning hasn't sunk in yet. I am sure it will, and in time, my reasoning for not masturbating behind Master's back will also evolve from rationale to philosophy. In my thoughts, not just my actions, I will become even more a slave.

I have changed from fighting my desire to sleep around, to dependence on his permission - even in fantasy. I have grown to need his permission to orgasm, to the point where last time I was able to play, I had to imagine his voice to achieve it strongly. Now I'm on the way - slowly - to needing him even to touch myself. What next? Will he eventually have control even over my arousal? Will he become the very definition of my sexuality so that without him I have nothing - no desire other than what he permits and creates...? If that happened, then even if I was given back my freedom, I would have no choice but to be a slave for life...