Experiences With My Nemesis Nero

Now this afternoon 18 months later, looking around my large bedroom I knew I had no choice and I started to prepare myself for the evening, when I stepped out of the shower and put on my silk morning coat and looked at myself standing almost nude in front of the mirror, wondering about the evening which was ahead of me, knowing full well what would happen, looking at my breasts, squeezing them, my nipples already hard in anticipation.

When I look at myself in the mirror, closing my eyes I remembered the first time with him, how I woke up the next day in this cheap hotel in Amsterdam, nude, love bites and streams all over my tits, my hands cuffed behind my back with a terrible hang-over.

Almost as in a hazy dream I recall that night, I remember how he made me kneel in this peep show cabin, how he took out his big thick cock, how he told me to open my mouth, telling me to suck, how he made me rub my breasts, pinching my nipples, wanted his cock and loving it how it felt, I have always liked sucking on thick cocks, so I just took him down and licked his penis, while he held me by my hair, calling me a dirty bitch, dirty whore, cunt, I licked and sucked him all the way while I pushed my breasts together, squeezing my breasts, harder and harder as I sucked him off, trying to make him come, swallowing him, really arousing me.

I remember the next days in this cheap hotel room, not caring anymore, telling Master Nero everything what he wanted to hear, telling I wanted to be his dirty slut, his whore, his toy to be played with, begging him to fuck my tits.

How I was standing for him on my high heels with my legs apart, dancing and showing him my wet pussy, masturbating for him like his slut, loving it how dirty he talked to me, loving it how he fucked my tits, abused my breasts, biting my nipples, how I was in heat like never before, a sexual frenzy, he finally fucked me, making me scream.

The same images I see how he made me tell him that I want to fuck his friends, to be exploited as his whore when I please myself when I am alone and bored.

Remembering what he told me before that I should stop running away from my destiny, my cravings, that he will realise all my secret cravings, that it's not love I want, that I dream about his world, that I love his world, that I crave his world, I need his world, that I just fear who I am, that he knows I crave being dominated, taken, opening your legs for any man he will give me to.

That I am the kind of stuck up bitch he saw in college, rich, superior with my haughty manners, looking down on guys like him, coming from the wrong side of track, that this makes my submission much sweeter, that I will be happiest when men hold me down and take turns, that I am a bitch whore who wants that, that it is what my mind hates, that I want men to fuck me like a bitch in heat.

That the purpose of women like me is to serve, that I need a Master who takes me, uses me so that I can be the sexual creature I am. To exploit my body and make me into a sex craving slut, introducing me to the most degrading sexual acts and teach me to crave them, that it will give him great pleasure to see me debased and teach me what I really am, a whore, good only to use, abuse and humiliate in public.

He will give me to women who want me, make me dress up pretty and give me to them for the night or a weekend. They can do whatever they want with me. I will be tied down so I can't get away, all night long I will just be their sex toy, I will be forced to be with other slave girls sexually, performing in private men's clubs on the weekend, whether I want it or not, that is just part of a slave girl's life. By controlling me that he will give me the feelings I am craving, instead like I am used to being in charge.

I have tried to forget his words and the lust I felt during that night, how I responded to him, my breast swelling, my nipples wanting to feel his touch, sucking at my breasts, offering no resistance to him, how I started to moved, grinding my hips back and forth, how he made me lose myself to lust, quivering of ecstasy, caressing my sweaty body as he used me, violating me, finally make me collapse in exhaustion.

I could not resist it at all, letting my silk morning robe slide to the floor and started to caress myself, I was feeling that tingling feeling between my legs, wondering what Nero would do to me, I was unable to stop myself, the need of my body was overriding everything, and my hand started to squeeze my breasts, rolling and pulling roughly at my nipples.

It was wild to watch myself in the mirror, my hips moving in and out moving from side to side on the music, shaking my tits, pushing my tits up, squeezing them, pinching my nipples and started to play with my trimmed pussy, very slowly stroking my labia, teasing, thinking about Nero how I danced for him and what he called me, I felt the warm sensations, thinking about being on my knees in front of him sucking his thick cock, the heat was building between my tights, emotions consuming, making me completely going over the edge and reaching my climax.

Later after a refreshing shower I first picked up the silk half-cub black bra he had sent me and hooked it behind my back and scoped my breasts into the cups, the bra just about fitted, pushing my breasts up.

Then sitting in front of the mirror I put on my black silk suspender belt, a black silk thong panty and attached the silk black stockings to the suspenders. I put on 5' black stilettos I was ordered to wear, like Nero had instructed "slut be dressed and painted like a high class whore"!

As I applied the heavy beige makeup, I knew I was going to regret it that I accepted his invitation, knowing I should have avoided him and stop it, but it felt also soo exciting. I put on thick black liner on my eyelids, adding a heavy shadow and coated my lashes with mascara. Then I painted my lips a flame-red lipstick, giving me a slightly trashy look. I barely recognised myself and thought how disgusted my husband would have been seeing me like this.

I went to the closet and pulled out the little black "fuck me" dress , slipping in the tight micro dress, zipping it up at the side noticing my stockings were clearly too short and the stocking tops were almost visible. Looking at my short black tight dress made me feel so sexy, the silk material clung to my body, supported by spaghetti straps that barely held up the low cut top.

The dress was outrageous, much too short, too tight and too revealing, slashed to the waist to display slice of my tight was clearly intended to exhibit my merchandise in public, a very low décolleté showing off a lot of cleavage, almost showing my hard nipples, it made me feel so hot that I closed my eyes and my mind filled with images how Nero had treated me before.

I felt my pussy melting with excitement, tonight dressed like this, painted like this, its such a thrill accepting it and I decided I might as well have a good time, knowing that he will take care of me, I will do anything I am told by a man like that.

When the limo arrived I closed the door behind me and walked slowly to the car. I saw how the gardeners stopped and stared at me. I felt naked wondering what he thought, then I looked into his eyes knowing full well. As the driver opened the door for me, I got into the car I felt his gaze at the split of my dress enjoying the view.

As I was sitting in the back, I saw the driver was watching me through his mirror, adjusting the mirror focusing it on my breasts. I saw him gazing in the mirror at me when I took a drink from the bar and uncrossed my legs. It made me feel uncomfortable how he looked at me knowing he got a glimpse of my thighs and my black panties under my miniskirt.

When we finally got to the Raphael hotel after a long drive I walked into the bar before we would leave for the Japanese restaurant I wondered what the few guests who sat in the bar made of me dressed as I was, dressed in that expensive but shameful piece of silk clothing. I knew that look that some men gave me when I walked in, if I am ever am going to be a whore this is the effect I want to have on men.

Nero was waiting for me, as always elegantly dressed as the prominent banker he is, in a blue fine pinstripe suite, his intense eyes looking at me. I felt his dominating power, making me nervous, my nipples hot and feeling that very familiar heat between my thighs when he held me close, kissed on my cheek, touching my breasts, pinching my nipples, smiling at me before he told me to sit next to him on the couch.

I realised he still turned me on, once again and knew he is a real man, looking through me, the kind of man who knows exactly what I need, understands that my protests do not mean very much when he insist, taking me without any respect, the wife of one of his business friends.

Sitting next to him I crossed my legs as he put his strong hand on my knee, making me feel again like a little girl the way he looked at me, making me tell him how it felt being dressed like that. I couldn't get over the feeling of complete sensuality he exuded, talking that women like me are born for servitude, to serve men.

Telling me that after dinner he was going to introduce me to two of his friends, important clients of his company, he had selected for me to entertain, just like I had entertained some other men before I got married. In the beginning I tried to protest, telling him " don't tell me what to do", to say NO to him, but he just laughed and would not listen. Later I begged him not to do it, that I did not want to cheat on my husband, that I did regret what I did on my wedding day, that I have been good girl, never did cheat with someone after my wedding day 18 months ago and I did not want to start that again.

He just looked at me in a dark way, smiling at me, making me feel like a bad little girl, telling me he was sure I still have these depraved thoughts that consume me, the thoughts I have had since I was a schoolgirl wanting to become a sex object for pleasure of others, just like I was when I worked as a model, knowing how much I fear the thoughts of becoming a whore, but how the thought consumes me, like a moth as it is approaching the flame, how my pussy will expose herself like a rose, a beautiful wet rose.

Telling me what I really want as a nice girl is to confess publicly to my sins, that what I really need is to be publicly shamed, humiliated and punished. I remembered that look, how I was drawn to him, knowing how he likes to corrupt a spoiled high class bitch like me, how he first humiliated me in front of his friends, letting them touch me in public, telling me that it is all about power, or should he tell my husband what a slut I am.

That there is only one way to keep this between us, that my husband does not need to know about my indiscretions. I knew again, how well he understood me, like before my marriage recognising the slut inside, knowing I had no choice then to obey him.

As he felt his hand on my knee, feeling his touch, stroking my tight I protested but was helpless unable to refuse him, it made me so hot the way he talked to me reminding me how I was on my knees sucking his cock on my wedding day, the humiliating words he used, looking in my eyes I felt the same excitement, the moisture between my legs, letting him lift my skirt and sliding his hands between my legs, humiliating me knowing the waiter was glancing discretely from behind the bar, making me open my legs for him.

It was soo arousing, almost like foreplay, sitting there while his hand was exploring the inside of my tights, stroking me, telling me that he knows my needs are becoming stronger, my depraved needs to be punished, to be a helpless. I was afraid of these cold eyes of him looking right through me, making me shiver, growing cold, making me look down to hide my embarrassment when he touched me, feeling the animal desire in me rise while I saw the waiter approaching with the bottle of champagne I did not resist anymore further opening my legs further for Nero, feeling the desire rise while his hand was stroking me, sending shivers of shame through me as the waiter opened the Champagne I saw him looking at my spread thighs, at my tiny back silk thong, bowing my head, knowing like always how the evening would be ending with him.

He was telling me my husband does not understand that women are submissive to men, not understanding my needs. That it will not be long till I realize that my husband can never satisfy my needs, that I cannot leave my life behind me. That my husband he can never give me what a slut like me needs. That it will now not be long that I will leave my husband again, he will be waiting for me giving me what I need, a sex slave who wants to serve.

Telling I have been pampered and spoilt all my life, that he will learn me to abandon my freedom, my pride, my arrogant behaviour and defiance, that like before I just need some encouragement, that my real personality is fighting to come out, the slut in me, that I want to be bad, that I want it nasty, real nasty, but perhaps I always have been bad already.

Saying I like to make myself so grand, showing that I am a nice girl, but I should not deny it, that I am born for sexual slavery, that I wish to be commanded, ordered, watched and used, that inside my desire is to be a common slut, daddy's little girl. A bad dirty slut who need sex from older men, the rougher the better, a slut who wants to be daily violated by men, a slut who in reality wants to serve a Master.

That he knows what I want and will make sure, that I will be nothing but a sex slave, a hot bitch for his personal use. That he will serve me at his dinner table and share me with his friends, that I will be getting fucked by anybody he wants, anybody who can afford me, either to buy me, or rent me for a day, a weekend or a week, and when he has enough of me, he will he will sell me to a new owner.

That he show me off to men and women dressed in black stockings attached to garters with a black leather corset, which is tight just stopping under my nipples, cupping my big breasts, pushing them together and upwards and making them even more look like firm fruit men want to touch. He will take me to the same canals in Amsterdam and make me participate in life sex shows and afterwards will take me to a darkroom for his amusement.

Nero called me a beautiful stuck up bitch flaunting my hot sexy body, smiling inviting, begging to be humiliated in front of different ordinary men by a Master who turns me into his pet, his whore, his toy, making me realise my true potential, finally surrendering and becoming sexually free.

Telling me I need a strong and dominant Master who controls me, making my choices, who can reach inside and take control of me from the inside out, that it is my nature to serve men sexually and by doing so it will make me emotional free.

Concluding "when I am done with you…you will do exactly as you are told because I am stronger than you, more determined than you and for the first time in your life, doing so will bring you closer to what you really need, what you really want, rather than further away. I know that no other place in the world will exist for you that is better than what I will create for you here where you will obey and serve."

He put his mouth to her ear, "What are you" he whispered into my ear. I felt his hands touching my breasts, his fingers on my nipples squeezing I knew what he wanted to hear, but I tried to refuse, begging him to stop. But squeezing my nipple, he would not "Tell me Vixen" he urged. "I know all about your desires slut, I know how you desire to be exploited as a dirty whore, tell me you want to entertain my friends like only you can", I could not control myself anymore, "I'm your slut" I whispered "I am your whore, your nasty slut whore" feeling the perverse excitement between my legs as I submitted again to him.

After dinner with too muck sake and champagne, his driver drove us to a salsa club and he led me inside. There were many people inside. That are the kind places I love to visit to unwind when I am alone and in the right mood when my husband is on one of many business trips. Then I like to dress in very tight jeans or a shirt and tight mini skirt or a nice wrap around skirt on high heels showing off my long and smooth legs with a tight T-shirt, no bra or a tight silk blouse with the top three bottoms open showing my boobs, bending over, knowing the view they get looking at seeing my cleavage.

I love to dance in front of different guy's, especial with the right partner, the salsa is such a sensual dance, it's almost like making love. I feel their eyes blatantly staring all over my snobby aristocratic body, undressing me, I can read their eyes, I can see what they think.

Especially if I have been drinking Champagne I like to dance alone, letting my body move on the sound of the music, my eyes closed, my head spinning, moving my hips on the rhythm of the beat, taunting, sliding my hands up and down my body, opening only the top bottoms of my blouse, almost showing my aroused nipples.

I love the attention, I look at them, looking at them innocently. It gives me power over them, men are toys to me, little men who have nothing much to say. I avoid always common men since they are boring, they have nothing to say, most of all I dislike their attitude, besides they often smell unpleasant. I can look right through them with a very arrogant smile on my face as if they are a dirty and unpleasant fly, or be very, very polite to them, but being polite can also be very insulting.

At moments like that, my nipples hard, I want them to touch me, grab and squeeze my tits, twisting my nipples but I have to laugh how easy it is to get them all hot and bothered and they think that I suggest more then I really do, knowing they want me, but will never have me.

As Nero led me toward the other side of the room, we ended up in a dimly lit booth with two of his friends waiting for us. I had not expected this at all and I did not like it at all, Frank was much older but big and athletic and black as coal. Frank was clearly in charge, the other was also black, tall and handsome. Both were very well dressed, clearly rich black men, but they were typical "new rich" men without any real class, just a thin layer of veneer, but the way they stared made me feel very unconvertible.

They clearly knew Nero well, laughing with him and not at all my kind. As I was sitting next to Nero, he was stroking my hair, making suggestive comments telling his friends that I used to be a model. But was married and that my husband was often away, grinning "I'm sure her husband will understand if his very beautiful wife wants to have a little fun".

I tried to protest, pull away from him, but felt my body betraying me when he put his hand on my knees, he ran his hand along my legs and I did not even resist, knowing it was futile, accepting his hand between my legs, my dress ridden up, and exposing the tops of my stockings, exposing my thighs, making my dress to ride higher and higher.

I heard him asking Frank, the biggest of the two how he liked me his whore, it was so humiliating the way they stared smiling at my spread legs, at my revealing black thong. I did not know what to say, what to do, my thong damp with wetness at his humiliation, knowing I should have left them, but I did not. Not even when he started to make very suggestive remarks, telling them that I was one of the nastiest white girls that will ever have serviced their black cocks. Isn't that correct my slut? staring at them, I did not even protest.

I was getting enormously aroused knowing what Nero had in mind, knowing that two black cocks would be waiting to use me at the end of the night, thinking how my uncle made me entertain the needs of his business friends and others, how it was making me feel free and alive, my cunt, mouth and ass at his disposal.