porno
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Posted:Aug 20, 2014 6:13 pm
Last Updated:Feb 29, 2020 2:46 am 19352 Views
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last night I was contacted by someone from my past. Today I am being taken to a porn cinema to be fucked publicly at his request. I am wearing a tartan miniskirt with white lace knickers, and a tank top. I have just handed some fliers to guys in the foyer, they say 'I will be available free of charge to all patrons for use during the screening. Please use any hole.'
I am kneeling on a seat, being groped and examined. My knickers are being removed, my skirt unfastened. I am being fucked by the first guy, in my anus. I have to open my mouth now for another cock.
I am being given a ten minute break. I have been fucked by at least 13 men, and there are about 16 waiting for me to position myself on the seat again. I am being instructed to stand, I am giving the phone to the man who i'm with, so I can be led to the seat, where i will kneel and arch my back.
I have now been being fucked for about 5 hours. I am being taken to a hotel where i will have a shower and spend the night with the person from my past.
The man in question impregnated me in front of my boyfriend when i was just 14. As our landlord, he would use me in lieu of the rent. I would know he was coming because my boyfriend would ask me to remove my underwear as we got ready for bed. Then he would lie frozen next to me as our landlord tongue kissed my mouth, talked dirty to me and put his fingers into my pussy and anus. Finally i would spread my legs for him and he would thrust into my belly until he came. I got pregnant and lost it, then he got me pregnant twice more.
When he called me, out of the blue he already had my address. My ex was so astonished he made no effort to stop me leaving. I'm about to be given an enema and i'm being forced to call my ex and tell him as it happens.
That was mortifying. I had to say to my ex 'i'm making sure he can get in... The tube is being pushed up into me now.. UP WHERE? Up into my anus... THE RECTUM TELL HIM... he's putting it right into my rectum.... The water is going in... WHAT FOR? Because my rectum is filled with semen...'
I washed my pussy also, as instructed.
Ive now just spent 15 minutes being told how fat I am, and how i look like a slut. He's decided that i have to be beaten as punishment, but only after i lie down with him and kiss him, touch him and beg to be allowed to undress so he can beat me. I'm wearing black satin shorts and pink undies.
I am about to go and humiliate myself as i beg him to beat me. Hard.
Ive just been beaten so badly my thighs and buttocks and belly are bleeding. I lay for 15 minutes kissing him, caressing him and thrusting my hips against him while i begged him to beat me. Finally i offered to unfold a wire coat hanger for him, and then begged him to pull my shorts and panties down. Then I prostrated myself infront of him while i was being beaten. He beat me until i screamed, and when i started sobbing he told me he wanted me to keep crying as we made love and i thanked him for punishing me.
I have been told to say that i will be happy to send a copy of the film footage of me being used in the cinema, or me being beaten, to anyone who requests it, free of charge.
This blog may be continued if I am instructed to document my humiliation. Photos will be posted soon also.
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Fake Doms (Oh c'mon, did you just notice?)
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Posted:Jul 3, 2014 1:29 am
Last Updated:Feb 29, 2020 2:47 am 21302 Views
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What constitutes a "dom"?
From my experience, a lot of guys confuse being dominant with being domineering, or failing that, aggressive, demanding, self aggrandizing or just plain rude. For example, I didn't insult someone you care about without having met them, so what makes you think doing the same to me is OK?
Do you have self esteem issues? Is it really necessary to use capital letters when referring to yourself and your magnetism?
Is it really necessary to address me as "Slut", "", "Cunt" etc? Once I've decided to give you the right to choose on my behalf you can call me whatever you like. Until then it just sounds like you don't like women.
On that note, don't tell me I'm not that good looking unless you're absolutely fucken lush. If you're a fat, balding social inadequate you should mind that old line about glass houses and stones.
And why is it you don't want me knowing your phone number? I read that as "married guy".
Now I'm just voicing an opinion here, and opinions are like arseholes in that everybody has one, but it seems that the only way to be a true Dom is to be the sort of person girls (or indeed boys) obey because they can't help it. To have the sort of charisma that makes me wanna do as I'm told cos I feel good doing it, and you just make me want to because your approval is better than air. You don't need to be loud, rich, experienced or good looking. You don't even need to identify as a Dom. If you've got that way about you I'm on my knees begging to be allowed to do what you want.
A very close friend of mine fits that bill, to the extent that I'd have been happy to let him kill me if it would have got him off.
Compared to that kind of unassuming, modest brilliance, most people couldn't dominate their way out of a paper bag.
One final word of advice. I'm not your slave yet. And the sooner you realise that, the sooner I might end up being your slave.
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An oddly liberating thing to do?
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Posted:Jun 12, 2014 6:48 pm
Last Updated:Feb 29, 2020 2:42 am 21394 Views
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I had been with my husband for 8 years. He was the first man I gave myself to willingly and entirely. (Plenty of others took what they wanted without giving me a choice before I'll add.) He taught me things about myself and about kink that were liberating, orgasmic, degrading, exciting, terrifying, you name it. I had boyfriends of my choosing, and of his. I did things I never dreamed I'd ever do, and had them done to me.
And then I told him I was going to leave him for another man. A man I hadn't met yet.
I'd been thinking about slavery for a while, and I wanted to try it. But I didn't want to be a slave and a wife. So I told my husband, who I never keep secrets from, that I was going to find an owner, just as soon as I'd left him. He was philosophical about it. We set a date which would be our final night as a couple, and did everything we could think of to ensure it was suitably memorable. Clothes, props, ideas and gadgets for every concievable necessity were arranged in advance, and I went to a great deal of effort to look and act like I wasn't about to leave him.
On the night, in the bedroom, I told him between kisses that I would do anything he wanted. The night was for him. I had planned my words to be the opposite of my actions, thinking I'd find it exciting. And it was. To be kissing the man I loved more than anyone at the start of a long night was always yummy, but to be telling him that once we got up the next morning I would no longer be available to him was about as exciting as it gets, in a very twisted way. As we got into the swing of things, I gradually told him everything. In the morning I would put up a new profile and start looking for my new owner. I was going to stop taking the pill. I was going to invite potential owners to audition me in our marital bed, and I was going to serve the first man who deemed me worthy of his ownership, whether I found him attractive or not. Anyone who was prepared to allow me to live full time with him could audition me, and if he chose me I would leave with him the next morning. Everything would then be up to my new owner. He alone would have the right to decide how I was used, and who by. I was nervous, but determined.
The next morning I asked my husband to remove my collar. I put up the first draft of my profile over the course of the day. I got a lot of emails. It was about 6 celibate weeks before I had my first audition.
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