The Future Past Present

The Future Past Present


Some people are just blessed. They start life with everything going for them. A good f****y, wealth, connections and opportunities that leave the rest of those who don’t, envious. On the surface, she is such a person. Born into a world of status and privilege, that most of us actually doubt the existence of, she has secured for herself that which others can scarcely imagine.

Were she to appear within your visual field of view your eyes could not help being drawn to her tall statuesque frame, long dark hair and striking facial features. Having seen her, literally the first reaction that would pop into your mind is “Wow!” To say the woman is beautiful begs the limits of understatement She is more than that. She is a constant and dangerous distraction. She cannot walk into a room without all eyes going instantly to her. If she walks down the street she doesn’t just stop traffic. . . She causes accidents. And there is more to her than just her appearance. Beautiful, intelligent, witty, very sexually oriented and a sensualist in every sense of the word. She is the very epitome of womanly pulchritude. However, what you are most likely not to realize is that all things in this life come at a price. And that for those like her who are unusually blessed, the price exacted is quite high.

If you were to see her in London, getting out of a limo at the Dorchester Hotel or having a late dinner at Blakes, or you were to see her sitting and drinking tea at the Ritz in Paris, or perhaps at the Pierre in New York, you would have no idea of the acute fiery passions that raged beneath the haute couture veneer so elegantly displayed and readily embraced by those who gazed upon her. Mostly cool and reserved, looking very elegant, like most people you would see a woman of depth and sophistication, living her high style life devoid of the day to day challenges and fears faced by so many.

The truth of the matter however, lies in the direction of the contrary. The woman who is so much in control of others, whose every whim is instantly indulged and catered to actually longs to exist at the margin. To be treated and used without regard for her wants and desires. She desires to be taken, broken and remade into someone, something simpler. . .

I could recount to you how it all began dear reader. I could tell you of the illicit adventures of a young girl and the sadistic advances of an uncle who started a fire within her that still rages unabated and unsated to this day. Once informed you would know of her most prurient fantasies. . . Fantasies that fly in the face of the steady diet of soft, supportive and gentle love that awaits her at home.

Would you like to know what excites her? Would you like to peek behind her polite chic facade and delve into the raging torrent that drives her insatiable libido?

Fast forward and look closely, now. She is once again impeccably dressed and enjoying a sumptuous dinner at Chasen’s in the company of friends. Note the self assuredness of her demeanor. Her speech witty and erudite. She is dynamic. She is the Alpha personality at the table. The primary mover and shaker.

The phone rings. “Hello” she says brightly without thinking.

“justine” A voice states on the other end.

She gasps. An involuntary side effect of her immediate recognition of the voice.

“I’ll call back in 9 minutes. Be alone” The voice commands.

Her energy changes. Suddenly she is no longer in control. No longer so dynamic. Instantaneously she assumes a more demure countenance. Her voice taking on a much softer tone, her eyes downcast so that barely a whisper escapes her lips as she responds. Its almost as if she is struggling for breath.

“yes, Sir” she barely manages to say albeit breathlessly.

There is an unnaturally loud click marking the end of the conversation.

Her friends are stunned both by the pronounced change and her sudden excusing herself to leave. They inquire if all is well, noticing how flush she looks.

“I’m fine” she says. “I just need to be going now. Till next time” She smiles and turns to leave them.
Trying not to let on that she wonders if her legs will fully support her as she makes her way to her car and to an out of town friend’s place nearby.

Her friends don’t realize is how incredibly deep and profondly aroused she is right now after hearing the voice on her phone. They don’t know how it grows with each moment. Reminding her of the power of her relationship with the caller.

She drives. Thinking. Obsessing over the caller and His effect upon her. Right now she longs to touch herself. She longs to be naked and wantonly display herself for the voice.

She imagines herself a slutty whore, shaking her tits, for His amusement. She wishes she could push her tits up, squeezing them, pinching her nipples, always very slowly, making them into hard little pebbles. She imagines stroking her labia, teasing herself, thinking about Him. But she cannot. Her body belongs to Him now. And she is allowed no pleasure without His express permission. Not even her orgasms are her’s anymore. He controls them as well. . .and she is never any happier than when she is servicing Him. His pleasure is her pleasure now. She is totally and completely his.

She makes her way into her friends place.

She cannot help it. Just the thought of Him totally possessing her beyond her ability to deny Him anything makes her soo wet. Right now she feels the sensations. The heat building between her legs pushing her to the edge. She wants so badly to cum. She wants desperately to finger-fuck herself to orgasms. She can hear His voice in her mind telling her roughly what to do. Dominating her. Calling her dirty names. The sensations are irresistible. Whenever she thinks of Him, she is not able to control herself. . .She needs Him. He is her air. . . She cannot. . . She will not exist without Him and to be with Him she will do anything. Absolutely. . .anything.

Her phone rings. ‘Hello?” she inquires.

“Where are you, slut?” He says

“i’m alone, Sir.” She says as she finds herself in front of a double-wide full-length mirror. “i’ve missed you.”

“Good” the voice says

“Set up the camera so I can see you slut.” He says

“Yes, Sir.” she says pulling out activating the camera on her smart phone that will send wireless video to him to distribute as He pleases. She points it into the mirror.

“Ah. . .” he says. Confirming for her that He does indeed see her and approve of her looks.

“Strip” He commands.

And she does so. Quickly and efficiently.

“Show Me what a slutty little tramp you are, slut. Put on a sex show for Me.” the voice commands.

Seeing herself in the mirror, excited, and not exactly sure that He is the only one watching only makes her hotter. She starts out squeezing her breasts, feeling and twisting her already hard nipples. She feels the pleasure in her pussy. Feels her clitoris swell. Gently swaying to imaginary music in her head her fingers move downward. She parts her thighs, sliding her finger down. She loves to caress herself, increasing the burning desire, pushing herself to the edge, her fingers running madly across her clit, her eyes tightly closed.

“Do you remember how we met, slut?”

“yes, Sir. i do”

“Do I own you slut?”

“yes, Sir. completely”

What is your purpose in life?

“i live only to serve You and do as You tell me”

She cannot help it she is wet and touching herself. She wishes she had more than just her finger to take her over the edge but that is all He will permit her and this too somehow drives her crazy with lust. She imagines taking his manhood deep into her again. She wishes to take him in her mouth. Still standing in front of the mirror she licks her fingers and touches her neck, then her big tits, it's exciting, She loves to to play with her boobs. She loves the sensations she feels when they swell and her nipples get very hard.

Slowly she starts to move and turns her body while she looks at herself, even if she does not want to, she cannot control herself. She feels like such a slut. But being slutty for Him excites her. She loves to caress herself, touch and feel while she looks at herself and let go. She thinks about her fantasies. She cannot help herself. She tries but she cannot resist it, unable to stop, She squeezes and twists her nipples, She has got to put her hand on her steaming pussy, got to finger herself. She closes her eyes, fingers her pussy, her whole body is shaking. She thrusts her hand deeper up into the very center of her pussy. Its throbbing, She loves the feeling of her hand between her legs, deeper and deeper into her. She twists her nipples and her fingers working and squeezing her clitoris.

She trembles profusely from the dark thoughts that race around in her head. She wants Him here. She wants to be tied down. She wants to be beaten with a crop by Him as she approaches and falls headlong into orgasm.

She opens her eyes and looks into the mirror, they are not her eyes that gaze back into hers. They are the eyes of another creature that has been completely taken over by passion.

“please, Sir. . .may i cum for You?” She begs knowing the crisis is now upon her.

“Who do you belong to, slut?”

“Oh God, Sir. . .i belong to You”

“Do I need any reason to give you pleasure or pain?”

“no, Sir. i am yours. whatever You want. whatever You decide. my purpose in life is to do as You please.”

Good. Now keep yourself on edge, slut and regale Me of how you came to be Mine. . .

Perhaps you wonder how it all started?? Well, I will tell you that perhaps another time. . .

100% (2/0)
Categories: BDSM
Posted by lic2thrill
3 years ago    Views: 218
Reply for:
Reply text
Please login or register to post comments.
No comments