"The Bath: A Greek Tale"
The Breeding of Tammy
"The Contract"
A proleptic affair
Power of Attorney
You call the envelope up to the noiseless, as if to see through it. You curve it over, weighing it in your hands. Holding it to your nose, you can almost reveal a scent of body spray, vanilla with a tip-off of amber, fiery yet sweet...Finally, after carefully examining the affect, markings and letters, you remove the stuffing.
Legal & 'Binding'
Document of Supremacy... It appears precise in its permissible form and jargon, a well-written, blurry kind of "home agreement." The origins of such a paper must date back to another calculate and place. The chattel so interpreted is not subconscious, but person, in essence, a someone as a possession, your possession. The crew of the first knowingly signing over all privileges to the crew of the following for one weekend. Attached in calligraphic furnish, is a mention that reads in part-"This is your anniversary gift. I will succeed tonight to fulfill the terms and obligations of' The Shrink.
Air of Politeness
Although we have never met, our intimate conversations, and my gentle, locked away voice have an charming effect. Your mind is ripe with the option.
The doorbell disturbs you from a momentary flight of think. Cascading facial hair drops past shoulders...long, obscurity, curly-a protective coat. Most arresting, an unlined tackle defies age. There is almost no perceptible make-up... except to be sold for out large, full of meaning, brown, soulful eyes and skin shining with a hale and hearty glow touched by the sun. This mug (of average height) dressed in casual attire seems strong, rock-hard, tenacious, intense--yet still somehow fragile.cool, proud carriage. You see an unstructured presence with playful, smiling eyes and full, impeccably shaped lips that beg to be kissed. And, all your thinking is focused on the potential you will rapidly wield...the provocative stuff you will force me to do, the humanizing of an inborn to your whim, the contravention of a courage. Your cock aches at the potential of the play about to unfold, the plot of your world, a curtain about to increase...
"Faustian Fervor"
First, the urbane protocol of dinner...a preprandial libation, a toast to provoke or exorcise the demons-one inclination satisfied, while another is arouse. The pretense of talk, foreplay to the forbidden, compliments flow as unreservedly as the alcohol. I can go the aged bourbon. There is an tacit understanding, as our tongues pursuit for answers. Suddenly, your informal tone becomes imposing.
"Stand in front of me and unbutton your blouse," I am prepared.
Blushing, I achieve it is one thing to sign a enter into, it is fully another to subsist up to it. Your foreign language becomes coarse-a another personality emerges...present them to me," is said with a vicious anxiety.
My hands shake from tenseness. I am not accustomed to being on display. My obvious self-consciousness only heightens your excitement. Finally, the creamy white globes are discovered... an offering to a Supernatural Being, and you are the Deity.
From a nearby bucket you delete an ice cube, demanding that I area the gelid substance on the tips until insincere erect. Running your hands over my breasts, I am instructed to remain still as you fondle the rotund dough-like spheres, reflexology them as you would bread. You famine to see how copious you can get on to the teats grow, using thumb and forefinger as pincers, tongs of terror, the extrusions become rock-hard small mountains, a reflection of your full cock. You extent under my skirt, shiny underwear, the fabric bodyguard of the cave. Matter-of-factly, you put in the picture me that I am to put my cunt exposed, free to you at all times, accessible to your invasion.
I am to have no name, from now on be referred to as "cunt" or "pet." You further debase me by pointing out the dampness between my legs. My body has betrayed me."
My indecision turns to insolence.
"Suppose someone sees me," I imploringly reply.
You smile condescendingly. I try, but cannot be sold for myself to such a reading of exhibitionism.
"Then, you shall be punished"...
I have kaput the contract, a behavioral infraction of the rules.
"Lift your skirt, show me your ass, bend over my circuit," you display in a contumelious style.
There can be no have doubts to my pressure group. Repeatedly striking tricky with the palm of your supply, bringing maximum reddishness to the protuberant buttocks, a cushion turned scarlet, burning from defame and the hurt of your blows.
Your cock requires attention and release. As a way of thanking you for my much-needed discipline, I am controlled to suck your ballooning stick. My mouth, lips and tongue are a clammy, tight, sheath...desperately taste to please. I am intimidated by your bulk. Kneeling to accomplish my brief, your massive scepter stretches my oral sanctuary beyond its natural limits. I struggle not to choke. You choose not to rub in my rudeness, but rather on my breasts and roll neck, so I can attend to as you spill your seed, along with vulgar language. I am flooded in your manliness, and aware that this is immediately the beginning of my servitude.
"A Nighttime on the Town"
"Get dressed, we are going out. The clothes I have elected for you can be found in the bedroom."
There, assiduously organized I find...a push-up bra (which will only perform to exaggerate my breasts and cleavage), black sheer blouse, very short skirt and excessive spike heels (of course of action, no panties). I can feel the air between my legs. I must appearance like a hooker, I feel cheap. Somehow it never occurred to me that the treaty would include off-premise activity. I am ashamed by my rude display.
We walk a short move away to a bar. You enjoy minor talk with acquaintances, knowing all eyes are on me. You with intent drop something to the ground and ask me to retrieve it. There is no workable way for me to bend in such a short skirt without enlightening my naked ass.
"I insincerity do it," a earthquake in my say-so, not wanting to invoke your wrath.
In disgust, you grab me, almost dragging me as we place. There will be reckoning for my defiance. Words fall on deaf ears. You aspire to abuse me, degrade me...
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