A Manservant’s Duty

Chapter 7✨Ao3 Link!!-EXPLICIT

Everyone knows it’s a manservant’s duty to look after his master’s manhood. Everyone except Merlin that is. Which makes for a very awkward and embarrassing series of attempts, and an angry, sexually frustrated prince… Well, you know what they say, practice makes perfect!

Written for the @merlin-bad-sex-fest!!

Chapter 7/9

Biting his lip and trying to keep his breathing even, Merlin kept his hand moving at a steady pace. The sigh that Arthur let out sounded content and Merlin allowed himself a small smile. Finally. Finally he was doing something right.

The atmosphere in the room was just on the edge of uncomfortable, just this side of strange. But Merlin was determined to do everything possible to keep the awkwardness from the situation. He concentrated on the slightly irregular rise and fall of Arthur’s chest, the way he could see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped.

Merlin twisted his hand, jerking Arthur at a slightly different angle. Arthur grunted, shifting his hips backwards and pushing at Merlin’s hand.

“No. I don’t like that.”

“What do you like?” Merlin whispered, stopping moving his hand and loosening his grip.

Arthur gave a whimper, his eyes screwed shut and his cheeks burning.

“I don’t know, I –” He squirmed and one fist slammed down into the mattress beside him in frustration. His jaw was clenched again, irritation burning in his eyes when he glared at Merlin as if it was Merlin’s fault that he didn’t know what he liked.

New chapters added every Wednesday and Saturday throughout July!

A Manservant’sDuty

Chapter 6✨Ao3 Link! -EXPLICIT

Everyone knows it’s a manservant’s duty to look after his master’s manhood. Everyone except Merlin that is. Which makes for a very awkward and embarrassing series of attempts, and an angry, sexually frustrated prince… Well, you know what they say, practice makes perfect!

Written for @merlin-bad-sex-fest!!

Chapter 6/9

Part of Merlin wanted to run from the room before Arthur woke up, but the prince’s threats of stocks and flogging still hung in his mind. As did his vulnerable, anxious expression when he’d told Merlin how long it had been since he’d last spilled. And Merlin really did want to take that worry away from him.

He set his jaw in determination. He could do this. It was simple. Like Gaius had said. Just a perfunctory tug, tug, tug and release. Relieve him of the tension and anxiety so he could get on with the day. Don’t think too much and he’d be fine. He let his magic warm his hands, rubbing his fingers into his palms.

Swallowing around his suddenly dry tongue, he went to the window and opened the curtains. Light streamed into the room, bathing the sleeping prince in soft sunlight, his hair shining like spun gold. The image was beautiful and Merlin couldn’t help feeling a little better. If he had to perform such an intimate act for an almost stranger, at least he was an incredibly attractive one.

Arthur groaned and rolled onto his back, one hand shoving into his hair to brush the few strands that had stuck to his forehead off. He gave a tremendous yawn and blinked his eyes open. Staring up at the canopy of his bed for a moment before his head flopped to the side to look at Merlin. An apprehensive frown crossed his face as soon as he spotted Merlin nervously twisting his fingers together by the side of the bed. Then his gaze slid down his own body to the, now very obvious, tent in the blankets.

Merlin took a step closer. “I won’t fail you today, your Highness.”

New chapters added every Wednesday and Saturday throughout July!

Weds., 15 Nov. 2017.

Note from Master:

“Good morning. On Friday evening when you arrive home you will shower, put on one of my button up shirts and a pair of long socks and, Mother Nature permitting, nothing else. You will have the collar  on the bed, ready for your Master to Adorn you with it.

Do you have any questions?

Master”

Took me two full days to reply, with a question. Good thing I re-read His note because: long socks.

Cohabitation has done funny things to O/our intimacy. In many respects it has brought U/us closer; closer to being comfortable and a little less formal but not casual or taking each other for granted. In other ways, I feel as unsure of myself and awkward in my desires, at a loss knowing what He wants from me. Clumsy, nerdy still; as I was the first time W/we were unbuttoned, naked together. Regardless of what happens it’s always fun and exciting, and even if nothing happens it’s all good. I just love being around Him.

Time to go find some long socks before He comes home. Enjoy your evening.

~SmartSurrender

e-mail:  Tuesday, April 25, 2017.
“Good morning. You will write, by Thursday,  6am, about tits. Yours, the feeling when I touch, grope,  scrape with whiskered face. The connection to your lady parts. Tits.
Post to your blog
Master”

My tits.  He reminds me regularly “my” are not mine, but His.  One day, I want to see me how He sees me.  I am not a pin-up nor centerfold but a regular gal with an average body.  I have no tattoos nor piercings other than in my ears, and my once-quite-red hair now sparkles with strands of silver, especially in the sun.  I do not attract attention at parties, unless telling a joke or long story with a lively narrative.  Visually, I blend into every crowd.  And, I have always been OK with that.  So what does He see?  That is for Him to know.

The feelings when He touches, gropes, scrapes or brushes His manfur against and into my tender, pink swells?  It is never the same, but it is never predictable, either.  I know that does not help define the feelings.  It is a start.

What I am about to write is honest.  “Open and Honest” is something He introduced to me at the start; while W/we try to maintain this rule and obligation to each other, there have been times one of us has slipped and fibbed.  Open and Honest is just a phrase if you don’t follow through in practice.  I try to practice this with Him, with U/us, because anything else would abuse the gift of U/us.

This past week, post-period, my breasts normally feel light, bouncy, unbruised, happy, excitable and perky-pouty anxious for touch, stim, lips.  These two weeks are when they are literally hungering for arousal non-stop; on my days off, I go braless to experience every sensation from the weather to the rough edge of a shirt.  However, right now, they are feeling anything but sexy and aroused.  

For unknown reasons of His own, Master has embarked on a daily campaign of being very aggressive with His touch and handling.  There has not been a morning in the last week, since ending my period (and a couple days before), He has not aggressively manhandled, squeezed, pinched hard or pulled one or both breasts.  The tissue inside is sore.  Sore like it’s damaged, bruised, hurt.  My gorgeous, full pink-nippled breasts are more sore now than when they would be naturally swollen and tender before my period.  Without words, my breasts feel betrayed, abused, used but not adored nor pleasing.  

They have longing but not their regular lurid desires.  They want to be forgiven.  They want to be left alone unless it is to be caressed by His gentle, teasing touch.  More than that, they would benefit, as would my soul, from Loving and tender stroking and fondlings; from light, playful invitations to become aroused at their own speed.  And, in turn, firing my sex to wet and purr at his touch or breath.  Yet, despite the strong, direct-wired nip-clit connection, which is short fuse dynamite in my body, this groping handling feels it is meant to prove a point not invoke eroticism or make me wet…though His touch always makes me wet. 

And as I am writing I hear how awful this sounds; how very much like criticism and complaint this whines.  But, what may sound like complaint is me coming to terms with letting Someone have His way 100%, and that is the part of submission I am still learning:  what is balance, what is giving, what is receiving, what is healthy, what I deserve, and what I can ask and expect.  I ask little, as a submissive; I just am.  I do not know “no” nor feel wholly comfortable saying, NO to Him without fearing He will turn elsewhere or just away.  He is Master, but He is gentle-hearted and deeply feeling.  And I realize I will not be expected to, nor am asked to, “like” everything He does.  

Further honesty and personal risk:  I am ashamed that I have gently tried to cajole and push Him away or lift His hands from my aching tits this week.  It is not rejection but a call for ease, relief.  My breasts hurt that much from whatever aggression or assertiveness is driving Him right now.  Perhaps He is bored or seeks some different reaction from me.  Perhaps He has come to a dead-end with His needs and is growing in new directions, bringing me along blindfolded.

Today, I have gone braless for the second day in a row, and it feels healing to let them shape without being hugged or strapped.  They are breathing relief sighs, untouched, un-slapped or gouged by hard stubble…for now.  I love how He directs my body to His bidding or draws me to the edge of something exciting and unexplored.  Eventually, I will understand this passage, too.

~SmartSurrender