“No, just sex. Mommy wanted me to have a sense of self-confidence and a strong notion of who I was before I dated, but those would have made me impossible at home. And there’s something else you’ll find out about later. If you’re lucky. I used to worry about guys finding out, but I haven’t met one who didn’t love it.”
“Can I have a hint.”
I smiled and bumped into him, .hard on purpose. “Oh, all right. I have a really big dick. But it’s immaculately shaved and uncircumcised. And it doesn’t get hard without pills, so it’s more of a useless girl clit.”
He pulled me close. “And did it come from your wonderful, magical pet unicorn that hides frrom everyone but you?”
I endure it with complete placidity as though . . . nothing. When do we endure pain with placidity, certain it will pass but not anxious for it to pass? I utterly accept it as part of the larger experience that will set me free.
You'll understand the title after you watch a bit. I'll buy the bronze lipstick after my hair. Eye shadow? I'm going to have to phase this stuff in, Mistress.
Notes, melodiously rising, dancing amongst themselves Desires all, born of exposed soul, a plaything's music box Daylife, mundane, charmed beguiling life. Perfumed with Updrafts of color, wispy love, need so frightened you only Could be certain -- this wasn't sufficient for your breath flying Disturbing selfish needs you love to have as possessions. And your soft breath ensnares notes of your plaything's soul, Lost wishes, desires forsook, remembered only by my soul's Endlessly spun song, music it makes for you. Smug, soft laughter or a blushing smile. Take them as Impetus for any action. Neither right nor wrong Hold meaning.…
Guessing whether fate will again create murmurs that follow Endless trails within dreams I recount only to myself, and only During long, still, dark mornings, before the crest of sunlight. Whether Whate'er you'd say is divine sees hope, longing, pain, love, the shedding of self, Pain beyond reason, and my soul's bile-strewn black meritorious, closer than God to truth, heaven's bleak burden of souls, righteous fore our God's smelly Toes. See the last soul, yours not in origin. In your possession, born with me. It is yours, not freely given and will never reappear in life. Still, inside you, you…
Indignance, anger forthwith drowning sacred needs, desires, all Wished for with prayers fervent, so long that my own Heart has without sorrow absconded with my hopelessness And now, these desires are given me and I sneer, dismissing Divinity as a task. Then I grasp my own dreams, lying before me It is my desires I pursue when desires are steering my course through life And I see that all fault lies with ignoring dreams long ago forgotten for Peace. My own desires are not for the pursuit, cast no wan light as a…
I spun in a little pirouette and tossed my hair over one shoulder. I leaned forward and fastened my hands to the tile surface, scooting back until my back was perfectly horizontal. I didn’t even complain when Brain slid into me with one, long stroke, I was so ready. He set a maddened pace, a furious animal, pushing me forward, up the shower wall. His hands held my breasts and his dick reamed my ass and I screamed.
I confess, I'm fiddling with myself a little under the camera, but the reason is to show off the self-hypnosis stuff. I *really* think you'll like it, Mistress Lea.
"I hate all of this," Lea confessed, her voice breaking the silence. "I'm too uncertain it's what you really want. And now, it's true—now you are a slave to my will." Fate lowered the glass, her heart pounding in her chest. Her thoughts swirled with the gravity of Lea's words. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before responding. "Lea," Fate began, her voice steady but filled with emotion, "I have chosen this path, and I choose it still. My devotion to you, to my Goddess, is unwavering. I am not a slave in the way you fear—I am a…
First, Mistress, thank you so much for your phone call. It seems it was the death knell for Kathy. You freed me from a life of impoverishment. Here's a video if you want to see: My thought is to move after things settle to avoid, in my loneliness, being seduced by Elaine. But I'll wait to get direction from you on that. It's so wonderful, knowing I'm doing what you would want me to do -- you've given me some loose hints that I can sometimes make good guesses from. There's a certainty that I'm doing the right thing and…
You think that it would be wrong somehow to take me during our first encounter when you know it’s who you are and should believe it’s who I am as well. We both want it so bad. I know it.
“So you want to be what I desire and not the fulfillment of my desire?” Lea asked, hurt.
Fate’s eyes softened, and she gently cupped Lea’s face in her hands. “But then I become the fulfillment of what you desire because I am yours,” she said with a reassuring smile.
“Get a shower, beautiful. All the way down to exfoliating your heels. Then five minutes in the tub. Hot, hot water. Don’t dry. I want to feel your body burn against me.”
“Of course, Mistress,” Fate smiled and scampered down the hall.
“You don’t get to call me Mistress until you stop thinking its funny,” Lea called after her.
Fate points the gun at the back of the headrest, her voice steady and commanding. “It’s a test, Kenneth,” she says softly. “To see how far you’re willing to go, how much you’re willing to trust us.”
I did what I could with the sound, Mistress Lea. I'll try harder to remember not to mumble. There's no sexual content. I thought that might be a welcome chance. There is something I need to tell you, a decision I've made after quite a bit of consideration. I think you want me to cum but don't feel that I should. I feel it is more important to do what you feel is right than to do what you want, so I won't cum anymore. Obviously, if this lasts two weeks . . . But the thought is an important…
I did the best I could with the sound, Mistress. I was lost in the most beautiful ethereal, purgatorial haze thick and thought stealing and so seductively calming , run through with a desire to please. It felt for the first time that I was truly worshipping your pussy.
Fate’s breath caught in her throat, the intensity of Lea’s gaze holding her captive. Her heart pounded, but amidst the fear and submission, there was an undeniable relief, a dark comfort in the knowledge that she was Lea’s and Lea’s alone. Despite the sternness in Lea’s words, Fate felt a rush of affection and gratitude. Lea’s guidance, though harsh, had given her purpose and direction.
“You see,” she continued, “your desires give me power. They validate my existence, make me feel cherished, adored. It’s a symbiotic relationship—your need to fulfill your deepest wishes feeds my vanity, and in return, I give you the affection and attention you crave.”
She leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. “But don’t worry, Michael. This isn’t a bad thing. Embrace it. Let yourself be swept away by it. Because in the end, it’s about mutual satisfaction. Your desires will be my playground, and I promise you, we’ll create something beautiful together.”
She’s treated me truly horribly the last month. A week of prodding me for psychosis. So she wouldn’t look bad. She’s setting herself up to look like a complete whore the way she disavows interest in me now. So what does that make her? A superficial whore with an illusory private life that consists of a different set of lies for everyone? I honestly don’t know.
I have to get my hair highlighted ($150) and some dry cleaning and cloths mending ($100+) and I need to buy a programming book ($35) Then I can buy f**** glasses to read the password off the router, Mistress. I can pay for the clothes after I pick them up . . . or I can look for a cheap magnifying glass. Give me till Christmas for your card.
Mistress, I can't finish hooking the cameras up because I'm too blind to read the password on the router. They'll be up by the first of December like I promised, Mistress. I'm "cleaning till I find my glasses." Elaine will have access to the cameras too, so if you want to pan or tilt or talk through . . . . Audio in my end is always on. After the router password, I have to make them visible over the internet, and also create a webpage with a QR code for you to scan. There's a live help line, so…
You’ll see in time I’m truly yours, that I don’t just enjoy writing that again and again. I’ve felt beyond betrayed that you wouldn’t claim me given what I’ve been through and how I was so sure you felt. For the first time, I have some hope you’ll fall in love with me for some reason. I can make your life a paradise if you do. I promise, I will never stray again.
Oh, and Mistress, someone else told me today that you’re worried because of your age. I can’t believe that. Okay. I don’t look for sex. At all. Because my relationship with Mommy, in her mid-sixties, for a few years had a sexual component. Part of it is faith that my dick only belongs in Mommy’s pussy. But part is simply “Why?” I’ve been in love with you for over 20 years, Mistress Lea. It paints onto you perfectly. I remember from the few times I stopped by your office. Fifty-eight was my cutoff for an older woman when I was in my 20s. Seriously, your age is utterly fucking irrelevant, if you’ll excuse my language and my correcting you.
I tried for a half hour to coax my dick into spilling its cum but I couldn’t. My little girl clit is a cold tube of flesh wrapped in skin. I needed to recapture understanding that I belong to you. I do. It’s the truth. And the truth is immutable.
“No. I promise no. I’m not lying. You know that because my lips are moving. Good girl here.” She raised her hand, freeing a belt to clank on the tile floor. “Fuck me with that nub of yours.”
“Never will anything fill the void that’s within you now, only the taste of my pussy can keep you from going mad from a craving you’ll never be able to identify. You’ll die, Michael. You’ll fucking die. The screaming need will grow in your brain that you’ll learn, rationally, is sated by tasting Goddess’s ambrosia, will consume every waking moment until you’re weeping and jabbering for it to end and then, and only then, will you understand you need to suckle at my cunt. Now eat my fucking pussy! Goddess loves cumming again! Michael, Baby? Michael, Baby?”
I’ll be the mostly virgin I was when I met her and she’ll feed me the tea and ask questions. Then supply more appropriate answers that go into my head.
Life’s starting to change and I don’t want to write about it until the changes take place. One of these changes could leave me with quite a bit of money.
There was that one hallucination that got and remains shuffled off onto you, but we both know it’s not really you, just indistinguishable in my mind. Then there was Lauren who I loved for three weeks out of loneliness and realized the last day I didn’t. Then there was Grainne but, as my shrink noted, you can’t fall in love when there’s always a hang-up button four inches away, Then, over a period of two and a half years, I fell in love with Elaine.
I can’t think in complete sentences right now. No matter how hard I focus, I can’t string more than three together before it breaks off into a half-minute of gibberish that fades to silence.
I don’t want to be this person. It feels like a bunch of things I know are true but don’t experience. I hope we get a chance to find out who I am after ten years of not really being anybody.
I’m so sorry I couldn’t soak the alter to your pussy with my cum. I hope offering my ass up to the toy Mommy bought me can suffice instead.
I have spent, easily, seven hours tugging on my dick or stroking my toy in and out of my sissy slut hole just in the last three days, thinking about you, Mistress Lea. I was thinking about it. You will start to become Mommy when you begin to make decisions for me and I will start to accept it when I don’t have an inner, knee-jerk “but” reaction. When it feels natural to trust you to orchestrate my life.
I’ve taken my slut hole three days in a row — twice today. I’m going to try to repeat this three times, twelve days in sixteen, just as an experiment. So I can be sure that you can have my ass when you want.
It’s odd. There’s only one Mommy and, if you become her, you’ll have taken my virginity. You might be the last woman I ever sleep with. You’re the love of my life in the sense that the sun is a star in the sky. I have no pride with this. I know. And you’ll be a partner too. I will learn to believe anything you say, to feel anything you instruct me to, to behave in ways that please you once you gain some mastery manipulating the psychosis. You will be the sum of all things a woman can be to a man. And, again, without pride — it was stripped away so long ago — I have merely the experience of being me within a body and life you shape if you care to. Do you see the power you’ll have over me. Does it make sense that I need you to have it because that makes me feel safe? At the same time, does it make sense that I want you to use this power to make me a toy to you? While I touched myself the last two days, it was like I wasn’t even inside my own body, depersonalized and wiped to a blank slate, helpless in weariness. I was merely enjoying the sensations. My moving hand seemed a part of something separate. I was a passenger in my own body and I knew it was right. My mind,. my heart, my body, my soul. You could claim them as toys to keep me in an agony of longing. It makes me want to be an instrument of your will only I don’t experience my acts and words, I just observe them without opinion, the ghost that remains of Michael.
I was hearing things from low sleep today so I took a day mostly off. Drugging myself out tonight with anxiety medicine. Mistress Lea? Do you even believe I’ll always love you. I don’t see how you can question it.. I’ve loved you for twenty years and that was without you in my life. It’s an artifact of the insanity, but it is love and it will endure until I die.
Oh, and please always, always remember that the things I write and say without pride? I feel no humiliation at them whatsoever. I accept them as a part of me and, really, I absolutely love this part of me. And, really, is there anything humiliating about them when you look past the fact that I’m actually willing to say and write them:
I love dick. I know this because I was raped by a college wrestler with a penis bigger than mind for three hours. At first, i was begging him to stop. Then things got quiet, then they got loud again. For years, I didn’t know how to explain what I felt and how I was acting while he screwed me for the better part of three hours. I wanted to be his perfect whore.
Then Mommy took my ass. If it had been another woman, I would have felt corrupted. If it had been another man, I would have worried about being exclusively homosexual. But it was Mommy so I was just me and I LOOVVVVEEEEDDD it. If it weren’t for the mess, I’d use my toy more than my hand. Getting fucked blows open every last door inside me, freeing me to be myself like nothing else. Yes, I am never so much myself as when someone is pumping a cock in and out of my ass. And, oh fuck, am I a tramp.
The end goal of pursuing you? To be your girl, whatever that entails to you.
I want to please you for its own reward, and I want to do so helplessly because you own my heart, mind, body, and soul. All I have is the experience of being me, a ghost observing myself and reality from within my own body, washed out and without a thought in my head, merely conscious.
“Mmmm.”
“Mistress Lea, it would mean the world to me to just be near you again.”
You probably worry more that you won’t live up to what I believe you are. That’s really not a concern. If memory serves, who I think you are paints onto you very well.
It’s a good thing my pussy gets hotter and wetter for my Daddy than for all those other boys with their little dicks. I’d be a bad daughter otherwise, right Daddy?
