Sympathy for the Master

I hear all the time how hard the slave has it. You want some cheese to go with that whine? What about the poor master?

We have to be concerned with every aspect of our slaves' life and manage it properly while at the same time taking care of our own lives. All I want is a simple glass of water will my slave get it for me? Not without whining and lame excuses. I will give you all an example of what I mean.

My slave says she loves me and is a pain slut so I set up a nice little play session. I have her on the bed, using my favorite cane I work her tits and ass to a beautiful cherry red. I give her orgasms in a system of bliss, which makes her have roughly 85 orgasms a minute and after six hours of her being played with I am tired and sweaty so I tell my slave to fetch me a drink of water. You know as a slave she should serve me, don't you think? All she does is lay there, she won't even acknowledge me. Ok it's been six hours maybe she is a little tired so out of the goodness of my heart, I untie her from the bed and help her to her feet. "Go get me a glass of water". I tell her. She won't move. She mumbles something I can't understand so I use my whip on her ass that will wake her up. Still nothing, you would think that after I spent six hours meeting her needs she would be happy to provide this minor service for her master. She won't move and all she does is mumble at me. I mean the disrespect I have to suffer at her willful hands! She won't even speak with a clear voice she just mumbles.

Okay maybe I expect too much from her, I take the gag and dirty panties out of her mouth. Work, work, work, a master's work is never done. Not even a thank you, all she does is gasp air as if the one nostril I left un-pinched was not enough to breathe with. God gave her two I only blocked one. Being the kind master I am I give her a few minutes more to calm herself. Then I say, "Slave go get me a glass of water". Does she move, or say yes sir? No! The lazy bitch gives me a string of lame excuses! Now I feel taken advantage of. I give into her silly wishes and remove the eight pounds off each nipple clamp as if weighted clover clamps would stop her from getting me a glass of water. "Now will you get your master a glass of water"? Another string of lame excuses, this time about her legs or something.

I was not paying attention because of my sore writs, using a whip and cane for six hours while at the same time manipulating her clitoris so she can have cascading orgasms is a lot of work. I am past feeling taken advantage of to the point of feeling abused. I spend six hours of quality time with this lazy woman and all I get is back talk. As I said, I am a kind master so I untie her feet, and take the five-pound weights off each labium. I tell her no more mister nice master if she does not start moving I will get my cane and there will be blood. To show her utter disrespect for me she runs right into me, almost knocking me over. Then she runs into the loveseat and then the wall. I grab her by the hair. You figure after all this time she would know where the kitchen is but I guess some slaves are just plain stupid.

Feeling completely abused at this point I calm myself, masters are not supposed to lose their temper. She is just a slave and you have to make allowances because she did have six hours of orgasms. My kindness kicks in and I take off the blindfold and send her on her way.

She gets just past the bedroom door and stops. She whines some more about some silliness that has nothing to do with my water. The abuse I have to suffer just to get any service around here is unbelievable! So I take the clover clamp off her clitoris and the spiked leaded weight. Do I get a thank you master? No just a lot of screaming and jumping around. She said she was a pain slut and that she loves pain, what's the problem?

Then when she finally stops with the theatrics, she asks if she can use the toilet. Can you imagine the nerve of this bitch?!! I am parched and thirsty but all she can think of is herself. It is always her, her, her, what about me? I tell her that if she wants to use the toilet to get my water first.

She takes just five steps into the living room and stops with another complaint. The butt plug fell out. How is that my fault? I pull the rope attached to the plug back into the bedroom and untie the other end from the bed.

I look into the living room to see she has not moved. All I hear is, "Master, ah Master, I think I have a problem". This impertinent bitch is really trying my patients! "Get moving"! I yell. She takes another step and now there is a mess all over the tile floor. Okay maybe I should have only used a 4 quart enema instead of 6 but she said she liked pain. I could see some ice still had not melted in the mess she so callously left on the floor. It will be the last time I think of her well being. She said it was hot while we were playing, so out of the goodness of my heart, I gave her a nice little ice water enema to help cool her down. How does she repay my kindness? By leaving a mess all over the living room floor and I bet she will tell me that she is too tired after all the play to clean it up.

Here I am exhausted from doing all the things she says she likes and I make a simple request for a glass of cold water for my parched throat and I have to listen to her demanding compromises, do this if you want your water, if you want a drink then untie my legs. If being a slave was easy everyone would do it.

Talk about suffering in silence. My poor shoulder is killing me from whipping her, does she care about the pain I am suffering? No! All she can think about is going potty. The lazy slave comes back without the water and tells me that she really has to use the toilet. Fine whatever, at this point I am almost ready to get the water myself but I know if I do that then she will whine about me denying her the pleasure of serving me when I try to go to sleep tonight. Now I know why God invented ball gags.

The problem with slaves is they lack focus. I want water and all she can think of is using the toilet. I am too kind as a master I think. I give in one more time to her silly request. I tell her to go sit on the toilet. Not even a minute later she is whining again. It's like she never stops! Ok I take the catheter out of her so she can let the two quarts of water I forced in her bladder, out. She had been holding it for six hours; she couldn't hold it a little longer 'til I get my drink?

"Are we all comfy now? Can I have my glass of water?" This time she thanks me and bends to kiss my hand. Okay now I am starting to feel like a master again instead of an abused submissive. Maybe I was a little harsh, I pat her head and she walks to the kitchen careful not to slip on the mess or the ice. I sit on the bed waiting for my simple reward. Just as I start to relax she calls me from the kitchen. "What now"? She wants me to un-cuff her hands from the belt, it seems that her hands strapped to her hips prevent her from reaching my favorite glass.

She thinks I'm stupid, she just wants to make me compromise one more time. "No! You want me to do that; you bring me my water first"! I hear her moving around in the kitchen then I hear the water running. Finally, I can relax; my reward is on the way. It took the lazy woman 20 minutes for her to start back to the bedroom. She slips on an ice cube and falls. She spilled my water! The heartlessness of the slave to tease me like that, letting me see my reward for six hours of hard work and then she spills it on the floor. She goes back to the kitchen and tries again. "I don't want that glass you, dropped it in your mess, I am a master and deserve a clean glass." How hard can it be to get a glass of water for ones master? She brings me the clean glass in her teeth because her hands are dirty. I look at it. "What no ice?"

So when you hear all that phony whining about slaves suffering in silence, or how hard their life is. Remember what we poor masters have to suffer just to get a glass of cold water. You should read the story of how I taught my slave to swim. Talk about the rough things a master has to do. I mean she did okay once she got out of the weighted sack and leg irons.