Location: the Earth
Body Decorations: tatoos
Interested In: Women, Men, Couples, Trans
Body Type: yummy
As always follow the author's instructions.. * * * * * the time for the big reveal came….the bucketeer appeared from the shadows carrying a smallcase that my husband had given me for my birthday a few weeks earlier. In the big paper was a long red envelope with my name on it and a handwritten promise that I would be given the order to appear in person at a specified location no later than 49pm the following day. The following evening, I got out of bed and looked at the paper. I crossed my wrists and knees, as instructed. Soon I was laying in a large bed in a bedroom suite at the top of the stairs, wearing a long sheer nightgown, my long flowing tube-top to match the long sleeves of the nightgown. Then as I crossed my arms across my chest, I was receiving the whip with great interest. This isn't unusual for me, it's something I get quite a few for my simple disobedience. Though this isn't a high risk/high reward kind of situation, I quite like the idea of physical pain. The fear of the whip is much more thrilling than the prospect of losing a battle. Once again, I was playing my part. As instructed. Though not technically required to do so, I knelt down on the bed. I opened the case and took out the vibrators one at a time, admiring one after the other. Lifting my hands from my lap I spread my legs and rested my feet on the bed. Then I took the large carving knife and carefully, slowly began to carve each of the symbols that were in the case.
After I was finished I resumed my position, only now I was watching from behind, following the lines with my eyes. Some of the boys in the room had moved the carving knife to a nearby table. While I was watching they slowly, meticulously observed each of the symbols on the floor. I smiled to myself, marveling at the subtle art of these horrific instruments. I began to understand what these boys were up to. I could hear their deep, satisfying moans, their ecstatic hoots as they watched me, down to the way their eyes traveled up my body. I was mesmerized. The thrust of the ice-cream scented ice-cream was a different matter entirely. To me it was pure agony, but to these young, hungry men and boys it seemed to have no end. The cutting edge of pain that I craved. I was lost in my own slow, agonizing torture. I had never been more aware of my body in my life. It was between my restraints and my senses. My touch, my eyes, my ears. The vibrators were carefully removed from my body. I heard their muffled screams in the darkness as they all struggled against the restraints, against the overwhelming hunger and pure sexual excitement.
With each sound I could sense the terrifying breadth of this hunger and the terror it fed through each sensate nerve. It was like no other I could ever imagine. I was like a man who has never been used before. Used and abused until he knows how to use his body to its full potential. My body had been wearing flesh for years, and with each touch. I felt more and more aroused as the years slipped by. Each sensation I received sent mixed feelings of peace and of arousal throughout my body. In the dark corners of my mind I wondered how he could see and not see me, why he could perceive what he felt was so unlike himself. I began to become more aroused as the years wore on. I began to notice the smoking, the obvious marks of sexual activity and the obvious traces of alcohol. Each morning I would make my usual breakfast in the corner of the room, only too happy to share with him the shame I felt in my heart of being unable to bear the fullness of my secret desires. I do not say shame. I do not even like to be ashamed. More like confusion. The release I desired from the forbidden inings kept me on the edge of a tremendous orgasm. Every night before bed I would run so that I would feel a sense of accomplishment and not just exhaustion..
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Part 2 of the last times she skyped with me while I am wearing off white ballerinas.