Account Login
Did you need to beat me up after you got "the best ** ever"?
You grabbed my ** in my miniskirt as I walked past. My long skinny legs on show, I was in my highest heels which made me almost taller than you. My tight corset top strapped tight on me. I look at you as you smile after groping me. I kneel down in front of you, and kiss your ** through your jeans. I stand up and tell you, the back door in 5 mins, any longer and I'll ** someone else's **.
Two mins later you walk out if the back door, I push you up against the wall, get on my knees, undo your jeans and pull down your boxers. Right in front of my face i see your ** harden and double in size to about 8 inches. I tell you no talking, no touching, just let me **. The better you are, the better I am. I start by kissing your big veiny **, up and down your glorious length. As I kiss the top, I spread my lips around the head. I slowly **, looking you deep in the eyes as I start to take you deeper and deeper. I'm a pro though and whilst still staring at you, I've got 8 inches of ** in my mouth. I gag a little but nothing major. For the next 10 mins I ** you harder and faster, licking all over, massaging your **, running a cheeky ** to the tip of your **. You don't complain so I ** you a little. As I'm sucking I can feel you getting closer, I looks end my corset and expose my tiny tiny **, as I ** you and ** you. You're about to blow so I take your ** out and at the exact moment aim at my face. Oh **, a huge cumsjot all over my face, another on my tiny ** and then back in my mouth to ** you clean as I poke my ** up your ** again. After I've extracted every last bit of **, intake my ** out of your ** and give it a little ** as I give you a cheeky wink. You tell me that was the best ** ever. So what went wrong?
You grab me telling me you want to ** me! Bending me over, revealing my cute ** in my thong. I beg not to but you turn me around, push me back onto some crates, my ** exposed, ** still on my face. I tell if you want to ** me, bend me over and ** my **. But you don't want to. You rip my thing off and stop. I tried to warn you, but it's too late, you've seen my little **. You're confused. I beg you to ** my ** and I'll ** you after, just don't tell anyone. I'll do ** to mouth to keep my secret. But you hit rage. Humiliated maybe but you groped me first and I gave you the best ** ever. Not enough for you, you beat me up. And leave me there.
Fortunately some guys found me later and I got gang banged ** (that's another story) for the greatest and worst night of my life all in the space of 3 hours. By the way, I saw your friends the following week and told them you liked my ** in your **, I also told them you'd probably like my ** in your ** too. From their reaction you obviously hadn't told them everything about me. Know they know :)
Yes, darling, oh dear god YES. I want ALL of your dirty gifts. And the dirtier they are, the more I'll love them, and the more I'll love you. I want to always be eating the ** of your male lovers from your **, mixed and blended with that sweet, sweet, sweet assjuice of yours [you KNOW how I love your assjuice]. I realize of course that you will be out EVERY night with all kinds of men, some you know, but most of whom you just pick up in car parks and gay bars and out in public, so the volume of fluids you squirt, spray or just drip into my mouth when you come home will be enormous, and it will be filthy. And then, during the night, as you indicated, there will be rapings. Repeated rapings. Because we both know this about you: you need to be ** so you know who's in charge. And who loves you. Forever. Forever. Forever.
Oh god I wish you were here ** me right now! I'd struggle to get away but you just have to grab me tighter and ** me harder. ** me! ** me now! I've been a bad girl, you've come home to find me having an ** with 8 men in our bed, I've got a ** in my **, two in my mouth and one in each hand and I'm wondering how to take more. There's one guy with his lips around my little dicklett. I want to see you throw them out and ** me continuously. Tie me up, set up the webcam and and ** me over and over whilst I moan and cry. Why not eat your own ** out of my ** mixed with my sweet sweet ** juices. Will you ** me every night master? Invite others to ** me, charge the, and keep all the money yourself, share my ** just as much as I do. Make me ** off into a glass, then ** my face and I'll milk your big ** and swallow your ** with the glass of mine!
Yes, I would arrive at home expecting to find you with multiple lovers, and I do. The sight of what you are doing to them and what they are doing to you drives me insane. Insane with ** and with jealousy. I throw them all out, not because I am angry, but because it all makes me want you for myself. You are crying, begging, weeping, seducing, apologizing, telling me you can't help it, that it's just who you are. I know that, of course, so you aren't telling me anything new. I know you're a **, but you know that your whorishness is a very large part of why I love you. Dichotomy? Yes, but we are meant to be together because of that dichotomy, not despite that dichotomy. You lay on your back in the bed -- our bed -- where they were all just abusing you, open your legs and your ** and offer me their cream. You do that, thinking it will distract me because you know I love eating and drinking from your **, but I'm not distracted. I grab you by your beautiful hair and slap you. First with my palm, then with the back of my hand, then the palm again, and the back of the hand, back and forth, forth and back. You're crying now, wailing, eyes full of tears, unable to see. Unable to see that, as I am slapping you, I am lowering my pants and my underwear. And then, as you writhe on the bed where you were despoiled by eight strangers -- eight strangers with huge ** and massive cumloads -- you feel my ** drive into your sweet **, past your sphincter, into your ** and your colon. "This is **!!", you cry out, as I continue to hold you by your hair and continue to slap you, "This is **!!" And I say, calmly, sweetly, "Yes, darling, I am ** you. Isn't that what you wanted? Isn't that what you needed? Isn't that why you brought those men into our bed? In order to get . . . this?" At once, your resistance stops, your body goes still and peaceful, and you smile and say, "Yes, master, oh God yes! This is precisely what I need. Please don't stop! PLEASE!"
Oh my god I have a huge ** in my ** while I read this and yelling out this is **. You deserve to ** me the way you talk about me. I am a **, I have no control, I want ** 24/7, in my mouth, my **, my hands, ** all over my face, in me, swallowed, etc. I think to punish me more, you need to blindfold me and tie me up for an entire weekend, ** me continuously and when you need a break, get someone else to ** me, keep my mouth full of ** for 10 hours straight. Take photos and upload them on the net, abuse my little flirty sick and **, then ** on me, on my face, in my mouth, I'm a **, I will have ** hundreds of guys in our bed by this point, you'll be sleeping on dried up ** stains without even knowing, I'm a ** that needs to be punished. But will I ever learn.....?
No, my sweet baby, you won't ever learn. Not ever. It's not that you CAN'T learn; no, of course not. You're highly educated and incredibly intelligent. Everyone who meets you (or who ** you) says so. And they say it whether they meet you as a man or as a woman. It's easy to recognize from the way you speak and the interest that you show in people just how brilliant you are. And naturally, it's easy to see how beautiful you are, as well, especially when you're dressed as a woman (this is what drew me to you in the first place, on the night we met and first connected sexually). The problem -- if it's even a problem (I think it is NOT) -- is that your physical desire and sexual hunger are so extraordinarily high that they quickly overwhelm your intellect: you MUST have **, and you must have it with men, and frequently with strangers. It is a fact of your life, and it is a necessity. With that need also comes the need for punishment (we will not ever plumb the depths of that psycho-sexual phenomenon in you, because we will not try: we love that phenomenon in you). Not everyone in your position needs punishment, but you DO need it. You need someone to punish you. You don't need the punishment from multiple men (that ** in the alley who beat wasn't punishing you, he was hurting you, and if I ever find him, I will punish HIM, permanently), you only need it from one man. And you need to be cleaned, also only from one man. Punished and cleaned. That has become my role in your life, to clean and to punish. And that is what I do: I clean and I punish. And I do it by ** you clean (yes, dear: inside and outside of your sweet girlish body) and then by ** you repeatedly. It might not be so with any other couple in the world, but it is precisely true with us. I ** on you -- and in you -- to clean you, and then I ** you far beyond the point at which you can no longer stand it. With us, for us, between us, this is love.