I could see her as I peered through the key lock. Her skin was beau­ti­ful, glow­ing through the dark­ness of the room. I wanted to touch her, to feel the cool­ness of her pale flesh, run­ning my fin­ger­tips over each little goose bump all while look­ing into her frightened eyes. The fear eman­at­ing from her was intox­ic­at­ing, caus­ing little spasms deep within my cunt.

“Isn’t she pretty?”

Your words startled me, caus­ing a flush to blanket my already heated face.

“Yes. Yes Master she is.”

I did not turn to speak with you, I could not pull myself away from the scared little toy.

“She’s for you slave. I bought her for you. ”

I froze, your words racing through me, echo­ing so loudly I felt them vibrate inside. A toy for me? To play with? To tease? To tor­ment? Master and I had spoken of bring­ing in a girl for me to explore with, to sat­isfy my sad­istic pas­sions and now here she was. All for me.

“Play nice. Train her well. Use her hard my slave, pre­pare her as I pre­pared you.”

As you spoke, I felt you slide the del­ic­ate chain around my neck, allow­ing the heavy key to rest between my breasts. Immediately my fin­gers trailed up over my torso until the cool metal res­ted in my palm. I was seconds away from my dolly and the anti­cip­a­tion was leav­ing me breath­less. I could tell by your tone dur­ing our exchange that I was going to be left alone with the girl; left alone with my fantas­ies, those dark per­ver­sions I have kept bur­ied and I knew this was a les­son for me as much as it was for the toy behind the locked door.

My eyes never left her, peek­ing through the tiny slot to observe her every breath and it was not until I heard Masters foot­steps cas­cade down the hall that I found myself turn­ing the handle, allow­ing the slight­est bit of light into the room, break­ing the bound­ary between me and my most evil and wicked of desires.

The very first time I closed my eyes allow­ing a fantasy to bring forth quivers of ecstasy, I knew there was some­thing dark inside me. When I felt the fangs of lust pierce my thoughts, I was mes­mer­ized by the pleas­ure poison and with each indul­gence, my mind sank deeper, feed­ing the insa­ti­able demon.

I had kept my fantas­ies secret, ashamed of the erotic and ter­ri­fy­ing men­tal movies that brought me indes­crib­able release. That is, I had kept them a secret until Master entered my world. Granted in the begin­ning my dis­clos­ure to Master was inno­cent, describ­ing what many would con­sider every day thoughts: sex in an elev­ator, dirty talk while mak­ing love, being bound. As our rela­tion­ship pro­gressed, I felt a level of trust with Master that I had not exper­i­enced before. With time I learned that Master would not judge me, in fact, Master encour­aged me, enti­cing me with his eyes to share every sor­did detail with him all while guid­ing my fin­gers between my thighs, caress­ing the already leak­ing flesh. The more descript­ive in my devi­ant exploits, the shal­lower his breath and this dec­ad­ent exchange of arousal acted as a fuel to my already ignited cre­ations, push­ing me to explore the inconceivable.

She was per­fect. Her body sub­lime. Never before had I wit­nessed a creature so pure, that had I been in a fairy tale, she would have been my uni­corn. I did not speak as I tip toed towards her. In fact I spoke not at all dur­ing my inspec­tion, how could I? What would I say? I was in awe of her beauty. I moved around her slowly, examin­ing her shape, the con­tours of her slim yet well defined body. Although the pale­ness of her skin first caught my atten­tion it was the ten­sion in her calves that had me entranced. I could tell imme­di­ately that she was petite in stature; how­ever, her calves held such defin­i­tion, a strength unusual for someone so tiny and I found myself reach­ing out, run­ning my fin­ger­tips over the muscles.

She wanted to flinch. I felt it as she released her breath, angry most cer­tain for my tres­passing but also for the trans­lu­cent gag invad­ing her mouth. Had she the free­dom I am con­vinced she would have kicked me. Screamed and kicked me. Retracting my arm, I stood once more, walk­ing metic­u­lously around her, sear­ing her flesh with my gaze. I absorbed her, breath­ing in her scent, admir­ing the strength of her back, the length of her ebony locks, each curl boun­cing just above her hips. And as my eyes trailed, so did my mind. I felt like a child with her own per­sonal Barbie doll and I wanted to begin play­ing imme­di­ately. I was flushed with lust as my eyes caught a glimpse of her pink nipples. Pink, hard nipples. Hard most likely due to the cool tem­per­at­ure in which the room was set but, I had hoped, also from a level of shame­ful arousal. I wanted to be closer to her milky tex­ture and moved to my knees, inch­ing between her par­ted, bound thighs.

Master had tied her beau­ti­fully, every limb wrapped in rib­bons of rope and I was look­ing for­ward to the mark­ings that would be left upon her once I released her; once I had played with my pre­cious little toy. Still, as glee­ful as I was, I felt con­flic­ted. My body was flushed, my heart pound­ing, cunt pulsat­ing, lur­ing me to feed on the meat presen­ted and yet, when I looked into her eyes, tears cloud­ing the beau­ti­ful expres­sions linger­ing in her deep brown pools I felt sad. How was it pos­sible that my joy, my release could come from see­ing another in pain, from bring­ing fear to someone so inno­cent? And inno­cent she was.

The idea that my help­less vic­tim was untouched brought forth a smile that would com­pete with the Grinch’s and as quickly as I was to con­tem­plate her fate I was con­sumed with what I wanted, with what would make me happy and using this pre­cious gift was what would bring me the most pleas­ure of all.

I had spent hours simply watch­ing her, grin­ning from time to time as she des­per­ately pulled on her reigns, even­tu­ally sur­ren­der­ing, her body slightly slumped on the hard wooden chair. I needed her in this state. I wanted her to be fatigued for I knew had she not been then once I star­ted unwrap­ping her, she would try to leave and although I was aching to cre­ate welts, I did not want them this way. No, when the soft red stripes caressed her flesh I wanted it to be bent over, gran­ted bound again, but this time ass cunt up, exposed and ready to be violated.

Master has spoken at great length with me with regards to my fantas­ies. He has often shared with me his thoughts of how I pro­ject my own desires onto this ima­gin­ary girl, using her as a means to expose myself, my internal quests all without hav­ing to take account­ab­il­ity for my own crav­ings. In moments when I struggle to com­plete the stor­ies in my head, not believ­ing I could pos­sibly enjoy caus­ing grief to another per­son, he simply wraps his arms around me and reas­sures me that want­ing to be used, taken advant­age of, manip­u­lated, seduced and exposed are nat­ural desires and ones I should not be ashamed of. Although I have admit­ted to my trans­fer­ence of feel­ings, I still deny them from time to time, there­fore requir­ing Masters reas­sur­ance to con­tinue with my pleas­ur­able escape.

We walked together, my new found little pet behind me, a leather har­ness strapped around her torso and head. I knew a leash would not be suf­fi­cient for she was a feisty animal and would require strict atten­tion. The closer we moved towards the les­son room, the greater my anti­cip­a­tion and it took every ounce of restrain for me not to push her over the bench and start pad­dling her without bind­ing her first. Having learned patience from my Master though I took a step away from her and repeated my breath­ing exer­cises for a rep of ten. I wanted to be calm when the first strike hit her bot­tom and I knew I was any­thing but. The look of puz­zle­ment on her face allowed me to laugh and provided me to refocus.

Although this pet­ling was mine, I knew it was tem­por­ary and that my true quest was to train her for Masters pleas­ure. As Masters slave I was very aware as to how Master wished for this new toy to be ini­ti­ated and I wanted to make him proud with my exe­cu­tion of his con­trol. Master was no where to be seen but I felt him guide me as I pulled the girl to the bench, push­ing her onto the supple ivory leather. I could tell she wanted to fight but there was hes­it­a­tion and it was only in those moments when she doubted her abil­it­ies that I was able to lock her in wrists into the cuffs, mov­ing quickly to her ankles. Having been in that exact pos­i­tion I knew there was no way she would be able to move. The weight of the cuffs and the mag­netic pull of them to the anchor of the bench, con­tained such force, no one had been strong enough to pull from them. I was breath­less at the site of her. Her torso was held rigidly in place, her legs pull taut with her ass cunt exposed, ready for my first of many indiscretions.

I vowed not to be as cruel as I had exper­i­enced and so I gra­ciously lathered the small butt plug with lub­ric­ant. The inva­sion alone was going to be pain­ful enough for her I did not want her to asso­ci­ate this new sen­sa­tion with any more cruelty than neces­sary. Even though I wanted to be tender, the idea that I was about to inflict pain on her was bring­ing heated tingles up through my cunt, into my nipples and as I inched the heavy metal plug into her hole I had to lock my knees together, stop­ping me from cli­max­ing right then and there. The toys ass cunt was tight, hav­ing never been used before and no mat­ter how much I shushed her or whispered for her to push out, she refused, mak­ing the pro­cess much harder on her tiny body. Still, within minutes I had fully inser­ted the first of many anal train­ing devices, instru­ments she would exper­i­ence as the weeks went by. I refrained from telling her such, part of me want­ing to toy with her fears, part of me not want­ing her to panic unnecessarily.

I was proud as my eyes traced over the sil­ver pull ring stick­ing out of her hole. I knew once Master saw it he would smile and per­haps even praise me for a job well done. Although I felt con­fid­ent in my train­ing thus far, I was very aware of my next pleas­ure task, to paddle her sweet ass and thighs. I had been want­ing to smack an inno­cents bot­tom for a very long time and now I was being given per­mis­sion to do so. I took my time in pick­ing the instru­ment of pain, allow­ing the pet to hear the swats that were com­ing from each paddle smack­ing my own bot­tom. Initially I had thought of the buggy whip but decided to pass as that was a tool even I was scared of. At last I chose a lovely cherry wood ping pong paddle: one side rough the other flat. My inten­tions were to mark her, to have her scream through the gag, to choke on her saliva and tears and as I moved closer to her, allow­ing my fin­gers to grip her hair and tugged sharply on her neck, I was con­vinced that was the best pos­sible treat­ment for the darling little bitch. The aggres­sion in her eyes encour­aged me, taught me that this was a dolly that would require hard les­sons, last­ing impres­sions, one could say.

“Forty. Forty is your num­ber. It sounds extreme. It is. You will hurt. You will ache. You will not be able to sit on your bot­tom for at least a week. I can not wait to see your eyes light up, to watch the stream of tears slide down your cheeks, to feel you fight against your bind­ings. The harder you fight, the more aroused I become. I can not wait sweet little bitch. How beau­ti­ful you are.”

Had I heard my voice, those words on a tape I would not have recog­nized them as my own. I felt pos­sessed as I stood beside her, the heavy handle rest­ing eas­ily in my grip. The first smack echoed through the quiet room, start­ling even myself. As the paddle slipped off of her cheek I flashed a gaze at her, wit­ness­ing a grim­ace so pro­found it burned into me. As though a beast had been unleashed, I raised my hand again, allow­ing the hard wood to strike her flesh. I altern­ated, smooth sur­face, rough sur­face, one cheek then the next. I was entranced, watch­ing the welts blos­som, inhal­ing the fra­grance of arousal, my arousal. I was count­ing out loud, my only attempt to remain in con­trol when sud­denly I felt his hands around my wrist, stop­ping me mid air.

“Good slave. But she has had enough.”

His words were soft but com­mand­ing. I had reached forty and I should not have been sur­prised but he must have been watch­ing, ensur­ing I would not cause dam­age to either of us. In an instant his fin­gers slipped between my thighs, play­ing with my aching cunt. Within seconds I was cum­ming, grip­ping his shoulders as my knees gave way, exhausted from released. Master kept me on the floor, cov­er­ing me with a blanket, whis­per­ing what a good girl I had been and to rest, to remain still and he would be back to me in a short time. My eyes had closed by now but I could tell by the noises that Master was unlock­ing the cuffs and mov­ing the pet from the room.

Time passed, much time before he returned. I could feel his soft lips on mine, breath­ing air into me. I could tell by his smile that I had made him proud but I felt con­fused. Master had reached for my hand, help­ing me to rise and was now lead­ing me to the bench. What had I done? Before I could speak, Master pressed my torso down, the heavy shackles encas­ing my ankles and wrists.

“My sweet slave. You have done noth­ing wrong. I am very proud of you. You seem to have for­got­ten one cru­cial part of hav­ing a new toy. Ahh, by the look in your eyes I do believe it is com­ing back to you. You were wicked with her, her pretty bot­tom flushed in col­our and welts. Tsk, tsk pick­ing the ping pong paddle. I am sur­prised, know­ing how much you loathe it. ”

Masters hands were run­ning metic­u­lously over my bot­tom now, drag­ging his nails ever so slightly.

“Whatever you do to the toy will be done to you. You know that. Now, that was forty cor­rect? Are you ready slave? This is going to hurt.”

Fantasies often express what we truly desire with a hint of the impossible. This fantasy depicts a great deal of desires I do wish to exper­i­ence; how­ever, there is more to this story and what is left unveiled con­tains both what I want in real life and what I never want to come true. Perhaps in time, I will dis­close more but for now, just this little bit has opened me up and allows me to show my darker side. I think there is wicked­ness in all of us, I won­der what thoughts cul­tiv­ate in oth­ers and if they too fear what they possess?

For me, the idea of hav­ing a help­less toy to cor­rupt is arous­ing, per­haps because that is how I felt when I was being seduced, used, lured when I first dis­covered my sexu­al­ity. Everything I exper­i­enced was with con­sent but there were aspects which truly were of coer­cion, all fueled by lust. My inno­cence although evolving, is still a part of me and still some­thing that I receive pleas­ure from when it is being used for another per­sons pleasure.

Deviance runs in all of us, some just deeper than others.

~His

A long time ago, the mere idea of an out­side party being involved / included in my intim­ate moments would have caused me to almost break out in tears. I am a rather private per­son who has strong beliefs about what bed­room activ­ity should be shared and what should not be; how­ever, my lim­it­a­tions as of recent are expanding.

Something has washed over me, wriggled inside of me and for the first time I want some expos­ure and my first taste of this occurred inno­cently enough online. I had been speak­ing with a gen­tle­man I recently star­ted to con­verse with and he was ask­ing rather intim­ate ques­tions. I was not opposed to said curi­ous­it­ies, how­ever, I did wish to have Masters per­mis­sion to share such inform­a­tion. As I was engaged in con­ver­sa­tion with said gen­tle­man I also star­ted an exchange with Master and this is where I really star­ted to share. I was ask­ing Master if I would be per­mit­ted to stuff my ass cunt and cunt and gen­er­ally play with myself all while speak­ing with this new acquaint­ance. Even though my expos­ure was solely through words, I felt grossly naked before both Master and the gen­tle­man and that vul­ner­ab­il­ity left me highly aroused and want­ing to delve deeper into my darker desires. The intens­ity to my lust came from obey­ing Master but also because I was dis­clos­ing the intim­ate activ­it­ies in which I was put­ting my body through, to an unknown gentleman.

There was some­thing elec­tri­fy­ing about being sexual with a “stranger”. I could not believe how heightened my arousal was due to this, albeit inno­cent, level of exhib­i­tion­ism. Prior to this exper­i­ence I was unable to under­stand such a fet­ish for I simply could not wrap my head around it all. Now though, I see it rather clearly and I know I will con­tinue to move towards more moments of exposed indul­gence, (my steps will simply be a smal­ler but with excitement).

~His