Every once in a while, He decides that He wants to share me – usually with strangers. Strangers to me, anyway. He has already vetted them. I don’t particularly like this, being fingered, rubbed, and sometimes fucked by strange condom covered dicks. I don’t particularly enjoy opening my mouth to accept an unknown cock. In fact, this humiliates me beyond measure. Why do I agree to it then (and yes, I DO agree and yes, He would never force me to do it)? Because of Him. To see the look of pride in His eyes after I have proven what an obedient sub I am. To know He is watching me perform and is pleased. To be reminded that I willingly submit my own desires to Him. And, in some way, I also enjoy the experience. Every time he does this, I enjoy multiple orgasms.

Last night He took me to a club. He explained what He expected of me before we entered. I was to allow any and all to touch me wherever they chose. He would watch over me to be sure I was safe at all times. Any man who was covered with a condom could fuck me in any hole. I would offer no complaint, no resistance. If it became too much for me I was to say “Ginger.” Other than that word, I was not to speak except to answer His questions. He would keep at least one hand on me at all times so that I would know He was there. I was to wear a blindfold once we were in the theater where I would be displayed and used for His pleasure. I blushed and started to beg Him to change His mind. Then, I thought about what this would mean to Him, felt myself grow wet, and gave my full agreement.

“You are Mine. I know this makes you uncomfortable, but you know you enjoy the humiliation as much as I enjoy showing you off. Make me proud,” He said.

As so I did. I stood tall when He put the blindfold on me. I knelt when He directed me to do so. I lifted my arms when He lifted my dress from my body, exposing me to all who were there. I opened my mouth when I felt a cock brush against my lips. I spread my legs and accepted cocks into both my pussy and my anus. I writhed when a tongue licked my soaking pussy. I cringed when fingers pinched my nipples. I cried when I was bent over someone’s lap and spanked. I squeezed His hand when not one, but two cocks fucked me simultaneously while I opened my mouth to another.

I remained silent, obedient, and humiliated. I listened as men asked Him for permission to use me and I bowed with acceptance when He gave them leave. My body became sore, tender, marked by hands, spread open. I became not a person, but an object to be enjoyed for their pleasure. I become lost in the physicality of the moment. My face flamed with the heat of my embarrassment, and my heart flamed with pride when He whispered, “That’s my good girl.” My blindfold was saturated with my tears, but His words buoyed my spirit. His pride in me gave me the strength to go on, to perform as He expected me to, to suffer my own humiliation for His pleasure. Finally, He was ready to use me. I felt his hands on my waist. He picked me up, flipped me over, and lay me on the worn leather couch. He lifted my legs to his shoulders, fucking me hard and deep. I reached up to touch Him, but this He would now allow. I was an object to be used, not a person to be pleased, though pleasure oozed from every pore of my body. He asked another to hold my wrists down. Someone began to suck on one nipple. Then, His fingers clamped down on both nipples, hard. Tight. Pinching until I cried out and began to struggle. He laughed, pinching harder. Then, he pulled out. Scalding cum shot across my belly, my breasts, searing my skin. I cried again, this time from the joy having given Him pleasure and my own shattering release. Moments later, He pulled me to my feet, thanked the other men, and replaced my dress, His cum now dry and tight on my skin. He led me from the club, the blindfold still in place, and helped me to sit in the car.

“You’ve just made about 12 men very happy, me among them,” He said.

We arrived home and again He helped me. Once we were in the house He positioned me in front of our full length mirror. This, more than anything, humiliates me. He removed the blindfold and I saw the evidence of my devotion to Him. The dried cum, the bite marks, the swollen, red nipples. He turns me around, forcing me to look at my backside. My ass still red from many hands, my back marked from the rough leather couch. I despise looking at myself naked, but then I see His eyes filled with pride and love, and I smile despite my embarrassment. He is why I do this, and He is I will always do this. His pride is mine. His joy is mine. I am His.