Posts Tagged ‘Swallowing’
House of Singing Wind
Chapter 1 - Now Comes a Wanderer It goes against my better judgment to talk to her, much less have her in this house. The decision is not mine, however. This is the work of Maelstrom. And as long as he is writing the checks that make my life possible here at Singing Wind, who am I to argue? It is a very good life. She is, young, perhaps late twenties, early thirties, blonde with perfect legs; feet on one end and ass on the other. The fact that her ass can only be considered a 9 ½ is only because I have never seen a true 10. Meeting her at the door to my study, I offer my arm to escort her in, the perfect gentleman. I purposely situate her body out of my line of sight. I want only to concentrate on her face. It is not a beautiful face. No, not beautiful, Beautiful is too bland an adjective. She is interesting, intelligent, and smooth. These adjectives work. . She is magnificent, utterly magnificent. Perhaps you think I exaggerate, but this is not the case. I have made a life study of women and fancy myself a connoisseur of feminine flesh and character. To put it in the vernacular of my trade, this is a five million dollar cunt. And this was the strangest recruitment interview I have ever conducted. “…and he told me I could count on you to fully acclimate me to the facility.” She told me in a flat tone, delivered with even a flatter look on her face. She was sizing me up and at the same time, trying to maintain her dignity. Dignity is a strange thing to women. This [...]
Fulfilling Her Dreams
The first time we’d actually met in person, it was in a quiet, empty, coney island on a cool fall evening. We’d been chatting for quite a while, almost 6 months I guess. I knew so much about the girl, everything about her really; what she thought, her every fantasy, I knew things about her that she herself didn’t know, at least not yet. She’d sent me a message online, she’d been 18 at the time, a good girl, a dutiful girl who never even thought of doing anything wrong or openly rebelling against her family. But deep down she knew she wanted to explore, to be controlled, to be used. Her email to me was the opening shot, or salvo, the first real attempt to find what she needed, but couldn’t fully admit to herself quite yet. It was almost a month before she finally admitted to me that she wanted to be raped, not that it would really be rape, because it’s what she wanted, but more than anything she wanted to be treated like she was just an object, devoid of control, to be used completely for a man’s pleasure and nothing more than a rag doll to be fucked and abused. Her name was Allison, but she went by Allie most of the time. I thought it was a cute, and perfect, name for her. She was attending community college nearby, looking to eventually be a nurse, or school teacher, though I wondered, if she was honest with herself, if her goal really wasn’t to find a Master, somebody to own and use her without mercy. My heart started beating the instant [...]
The Bartender and the Slave
I was a bartender. It was a job I loved. I could usually find the kind of woman I wanted to play with by talking to them and sniffing out their submissive sides. So many women who came into bars alone were looking not just for sex, but for really rough sex, and I could read them well. That’s how I found my slaves. I would engage them in conversation and eventually get them to talk about sex, what they liked. I would bring up spanking and bondage and if I saw that spark, I knew I had them. Sometimes I would play with them for a while just a little roughly and concentrated more on the humiliation side. I would tell them to come back to the bar dressed just so, sit on the barstool with skirt raised and naked underneath, spread their legs. I would make them lift their blouses and reach over the bar and play with their tits and nipples. Eventually I would take them home and hurt them, oh how I loved to hear them scream and beg for more pain. One day Sarah came into the bar and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was one of them, but she wouldn’t give in to it or to me. But she kept coming back anyway. Deliberately not sitting at the bar, trying to pick up other guys, but always looking back at me. So tonight I got another bartender to cover, and I walked over to her. I told the guy she was with that the bitch was mine and I grabbed her by the hair and took her to my van, threw her in the back and chloroformed her and took her home. Now I [...]