#Clemmie

She leaned over and said, softly, in my ear; ‘I’m sorry I missed seeing you whipped.’ There was no real answer to that but a blush. My heart began to hammer; she knew what had been done to me the other night, which meant she knew how wildly I had come – knew I had been unable to avoid my own response after being whipped and gang-fucked by strangers. She stood back from me and watched. I looked up, wanting to see her eyes, see what she thought of me, frightened, but needy too. Her smile was like hot acid. Her face made it clear that she knew everything and was going to exploit my weakness to the full. I wanted to run, but couldn’t. I wanted her to take me in her arms, there and then, but she didn’t. I looked back at her, knowing, but not caring, that she would see the weakness in my eyes. [Read More]

Estimated reading time: 41 minutes; 8600 words

8 comments

Was I to become - to accept myself as - this new thing? Hardly a girl, or even a person, but simply a sex toy, a helpless, wanton, lust-driven slave to the wild and abusive desires of others, a sex toy that would be beaten as much as fucked, shamed and degraded as much as desired or caressed, sneered at and humiliated as much as complimented. Was that to be me? [Read More]

Estimated reading time: 26 minutes; 5500 words

4 comments

Don’t make any mistake, this counselling is not ‘healing’, not ’therapy’— no-one cares about your ‘wellbeing’— obviously. What Madame cares about is your delivery, your perfomance, your availability— as cunt— as the deepest, most abject kind of whore. [Read More]

Estimated reading time: 20 minutes; 4200 words

2 comments