Lucania

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Memories, submission to the present.
947 words
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Surprisingly, I found myself in a beautifully decorated yet modestly furnished home. Candles everywhere to set the ambiance. Not really my thing typically, but I was quickly swept away to another room. Never giving the candles a second thought. All that was in my head, is that I am going to become the slut again. I could not wait.

Back to the beginning, which is not a far leap. Messaging back and forth, almost thrown away, my tolerance for creeping trolls next to nothing. Another text comes giving me pause as if I may had been wrong. I indulge in conversation as my mind is interested in knowing just how smart he could be. I remember playing a little, testing my boundaries, believing I had the upper hand.

Fuck me. The date and time were set. I can back out. I am no longer the whore. My past flies into my memory. This isn't how it is going to be. I do not have to go through with this. My choice. Or so I thought. I am still that slut inside. Time has not made this dim nor erased it from my being. I know what could await me. Pain. I am undone. The bruises from another still on me, yet that had been something different. Controlled, precision, and clinically arduous. Pain, sex, and the release of the slut awaited me this day.

Into the room, shy with an unusual calm. Wondering what you want, and should I ask. As I watch you, crossing the room, busy with preparation. I cannot remove the memory.

My soulmate gone from me now, so so long. Tears now as I write, I was reminded through this stranger before me, of how I met my love. Simple, meeting your new boss, handshake required. Grabbing my hand, I felt this electric tingling resonate through my body. I thought you shocked me, but I looked up and everything changed. When you died, I never thought I would feel love or be loved with our unique passion. I will regret the decision that destroyed us for all eternity.

I snap back to reality and to the stranger before me. The tingling I had felt when I touched you scaring the shit out of me. The pretense dark or light, good or evil. As I myself am the evil, analyzing a touch that should mean nothing. You haven't said anything, so I ask. We begin.

Standing in lingerie, you have undressed. I am adjusting as you walk over and come up behind me. Your arms around and the kiss on my neck. In that moment, simple to you and everything to me. I surrender.

The lingerie meaningless. Taken off so fast in anticipation. You want to bound me for the pain, but I ask not to be for you do not know my past. Lying face down, pillow beneath my belly. Exploring my ass which shall now be your canvas. The hands warming me up. Easy slaps with touching. Biting, harder slapping, you intensify as I recall you are a sadist. The nice ones always seem to be. In your look, I recognize, the change with the short whip in your hand. Whipping me until my body tenses. More slaps with your hand to relax me. Hitting me harder and harsher. I am so wet. You stop the beating and begin exploration of my pussy. This is new, and throws me off balance. I relax, breathe and continue to let go of myself. More whipping, more slapping. The cane comes next. Slashing across my ass leaving red skin exposed. Painful and pleasurable, the slut is emerging. Willing to do anything to make you happy. My nature exposed and vulnerable. The bull whip shows skill but I cannot watch you long as my body tenses. Relax and tense. Mutterings at first, then obscenities. You stop, though no safe word. I am not bound, and you do not push. How I wish you had pushed, but I knew you would not. You are so hard, the slut does not want to wait. I want pain and to please you. Which do I do?

I choose to please. Once again, I feel my pussy fighting but begging for you. Stretching and resistance at the same time. Skilled in this maneuvering as well. You test my mouth. Do I indeed have no gag reflex? Intriguing, but not often true. I am surprised still by the fact you do not test my throat. Yet. On all fours, using me, pleasuring me. Grabbing and squeezing my breast so fucking hard, tears are held back. I worry that it would bother you. The nipple rings seem designed just for this pain. In later discussion, yes sir, the sadist likes this.

Wanting to be served, you sit in the chair. I come to you, drop a pillow and unto my knees. Letting me show you what I can do only tempts you to see how far you can go. Soon your hand in my hair grips and pushes. Down and down, I surrender the body again. Forcing and pushing down harder and deeper. I wonder if you are pleased. You so in let me know. Filling my mouth, as I get the taste of you. Down my throat so easily, the slut in ecstasy now. I have down my job, what I was here for. You, however, are not done with me.

This day was unexpected but I will never regret it. I embrace the slut and thank her. I needed this. I wanted this. I have done this. Another hurdle crossed in getting myself back. A prisoner no longer. I am free.

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