Welcome back, pornstar girl, how do you feel now? Hot and sexy, slutty, dirty, and oh, so turned on by this little adventure in private exhibitionism. It’s a rush, honey, so ride it. I know you get wet doing it, and what I love is the way you get sexier when you get hot, how the juicing of your pussy shows up in your eyes, in your face. What I love is how the pose becomes reality as you arch your back and present your ass. What I love is how the desire to tease becomes the need to fuck as you flip your skirt up, and slowly expose more and more of your tits. I love how you twist your body to show it off. You’re sending out a message here, and it’s nothing more or less than “I’m hot and easy, come and fuck me.” You're looking for that perfect pose that screams it out.
“I’m hot and easy, come fuck me.”
Say it, honey. “I’m hot and easy, come fuck me.”
“I’m hot and easy, cheap and sleazy, come fuck me like the whore I am.” Say it, show it. Do we need more pictures, honey? Not enough there yet? Then get more for me, you know what I need from you.
Fuck, you’re such a slut for me, my cock is so hard for you. And what I want you to do now is go through every image, every pose and look at yourself the way I look at you, raw, exposed, inviting, inciting, pure sex, and all woman. Concentrate on the swell of your tits and the curve of your ass and the glistening slit of your cunt. Concentrate on the shine in your eyes, look at the expression on the face of this girl who is you, this woman exposing herself for me. Look at the way she works her body, works her look, look at the way she’s dressed for display. Think about what she’s telling her audience. “I’m hot and easy, come and fuck me.”
Go ahead and say it, honey. “I’m hot and easy, come and fuck me. Come fuck me, please. Please, please, please, come fuck me, please!”
Go through the pictures honey, and beg for it frame by frame. Beg with your voice, the way you beg with your body. Look at that dirty little slut in the digital mirror, uninhibited, wanton, sex personified, depravity purified. Tell that girl what you think of her, how how she is, how dirty she is. Tell her what a slut she is, what a horny little bitch. Tell her out loud, you know I like to hear you say it. If you can't say the words, you can't have the experience, so tell her very clearly exactly what you think. And spread those legs as you read this honey, as you look at your dirty-whore pornstar pics. Spread those legs and spread that sticky cunt wide for me. She needs to be fucked, honey, that dirty girl you are in the camera’s eye is there to be fucked and nothing more. She needs it so bad. And there’s one more thing you’re going to do with this honey, now that you’ve chosen your perfect slut-wear, now that your body is trembling in sexual need. Finish going through your pictures, and I’ll tell you when you turn the page.
Hot bitch, slutty bitch – done with your dirty pics, ready for your assignment now? It’s easy. I want you to go shopping, go downtown, dressed just like this.
And I can hear the screech of your mental tires as you hit that corner. What did he say? You didn’t expect that, did you, honey? Yeah, I’m sending you out in public. Does that scare you? Does that excite you? Yes it’s another one of my little tests, designed to strip away the lesser women who’ve come into my world by mistake. Here’s where the rubber meets the road, honey. Here’s where we learn what you’re made of. You’re going out in your trashiest outfit, and you're going shopping for something even sluttier, while the men look with lust and the women stare with envy. Strut it, work it, tease the boys and taunt the girls. You're going to get hit on, but no giving out your number, that's against the rules, honey. You're out there to show, not to go. Are you brave enough to do this? We’re about to find out.
Oh, and honey, while you’re out, can you pick something up for me? Good girl. Just drop by the hardware store and pick up some rope, get white nylon twist, one quarter inch diameter. Get four pieces, one twelve yards long, the others twelve feet. Thanks, honey. I knew that I could count on you. Turn the page when you’re back.
Welcome back, honey. How was your slut-strut? Did you feel the eyes on you, when you bought even trashier clothes. Did all those men want you while you displayed yourself like a shameless whore? You know what they were thinking when you bought that rope in the hardware store. And you know what I was thinking when I told you to get it. Yah, honey, I want you tied up, cunt up and begging for my cock, and yes, honey, that’s exactly what I’m going to get. You know about rope and riding crops, honey. That’s why you’re here. You know about domination and submission, you’ve read stories, you’ve seen pictures, maybe you've even played games with a boyfriend or two. I’ve already taught you that pain can be pleasure, now you’re going to learn that confinement can be freedom.
You’re going to give yourself up to me, honey. You’re going to give me everything. I know it and you know it, and we both want it, and the proof of that for me is the reality that you're reading this, and the proof of that for you is the fact that you’ve got the rope. You knew exactly what it was for the moment I mentioned it, and the knowledge has been wetting your cunt ever since. Hasn’t it, you dirty little bondage slut?
You don’t have to answer, honey, we both know the answer. So just pick up those ropes, feel them, explore the texture. Wrap them around your wrists and tug. You’re going to be bound for me today, bound and helpless and completely mine. That thought sends a thrill through your clit, honey. That thought makes your pussy wet and your nipples tingle and your breath come short. Remember your earliest hazy dreams, bad girl dreams that were secret and steamy for reasons you didn’t quite understand. Remember how exciting it was to imagine being captured by pirates, tied up in cops and robbers, caught and held in all sorts of ways. Remember hot defiance overlying those deeper feelings, being taken, taken past your defences, taken away from yourself. That was the start, honey. And now, here we are.
There’s an art to erotic rope work, honey, the Japanese call it shibari and you’re about to experience its intricacies. Don’t hurry this one, take your time, make sure you do it right. Time to double-check, make sure the stove is off, make sure the phone is disconnected, make sure our door is closed and locked, we don’t want any interruptions, honey. And when we do start we’re going to start with the basics. This is shibari karada and the internet is your friend in learning, just make sure you get the right version, body-bound only. Start with the long rope. Drape it across your shoulders, the same as a shawl, one end hanging down over each breast, equal lengths on each side. Gather the two strands together, like you were going to tie a tie. Now you’ve got the two ends together, hanging down between your breasts. Hold them together like one rope, and put in a single-loop knot to sit right above your pretty tits. You don’t need girl-scout skills here, honey, just make a loop and pass the free ends through.
Now you should have a loop around your neck with the free ends hanging free, just like a big, loose necktie. Simple. Are you’re getting aroused at this? You will. I know you're anxious honey, anxious for this to go to its natural conclusion, anxious to feel restrained, immobilized, and mine.
The second knot goes between your breasts, a third below them, The fourth on your belly button, and the last one goes right at your clit. Take the free ends, run them between your legs, up the crack of your ass, up your back and through the loop at the back of your neck. Snug them up, feel them tighten, feel that last knot right up between your pussy lips, right where it’s going to remind you what’s happening. Take one free end, bring it around beneath your armpit, thread it through the space between the first two knots. Take it back behind your back and around to the other side, thread it through the space between the second knot and the third. Feel how that starts to present your tits. You see how it’s working now, don’t you honey? We’re lacing you up tight, tight, tight. Now back around behind again, and around to thread between the third knot and the fourth. One more time, back around again and through above the knot at your clit, and tie it there. You’re half-wrapped now, honey. Do the mirror image on the other side, top to botto
m. Snug the rope tight and tie the ends off, my tight-bound little slave girl. It’s tighter on your pussy now, that hard little knot putting your clit in its place. Karada is the rope dress, and here you’re bound even when you’re free. Try moving, feel how it tightens, how it restricts your movements, how the rope controls you with its very presence. You can wear this out beneath your dress and nobody would ever know. Nobody except you, and me.
Feel how it makes your cunt wet. Have you ever felt like this before, honey, bound and free at the very same time. And it’s going to get better. Take a second length of rope, twelve feet long, then sit down on the floor, and you’ll feel that clitoral knot remind you that it's there. Put your ankles together. Fold the rope double, pass the loop around your ankles and thread the free ends through it. Snug it tight and start wrapping, around and around, until you’ve got just two feet left. Then you’re going to pass the rope down between your calves from in front, and then up between your feet from behind, wrapping the rope around the coils around your ankles. Do that once more, then the free ends go left and right around your ankles and get tied off in front. Snug but not too tight, honey. Don’t cut off the circulation, that’s a bad thing. There’s a skill to this, learn it well.
Take the third length of rope and do the same thing above your knees. How are you feeling now, honey? Restrained. Vulnerable. Mine.
Fourth rope. You’re sitting on the floor with your knees drawn up in front of you. Do the same thing at your wrists that you’ve done with your ankles. Save three feet for the cross wrapping part, and thread the free ends through the rope at your knees, anywhere, it doesn’t matter where. Do a few passes around and around. You won’t be able to tie it off if you’ve done everything right, you won’t have enough movement in your wrists. That doesn’t matter honey, because it’s the feeling of restraint that counts, and that’s what you’re getting from this.
I can do anything to you when you’re like this, just pick you up and put you in position, to whip you, fuck you, or simply leave you there, decorative and available. You’re my tied up little bondage slut now, honey. You’re going to stay this way for exactly as long as I want you to. So we’ll start out with an hour. It’s going to get uncomfortable, and it might get boring, but what’s important, honey is that you’re mine, all mine, more mine than you have ever been. You’ll feel that, deep inside you. You’ll be wet by the end of it, aroused in a way you never thought possible. And when the hour is up you can undo your hands but nothing else, and you can rub your eager fingers over and under and around that cruel knot at your clit. I want you to soak it, I want you to drench the rope with your juice, I want you to climax for me, to give me your tightly restrained release to prove just how much you are mine, so mine. It’s going to be awkward for you, and it’s going to be hot.
And I’m going to be watching, right here in your mind where we meet. I’m going to be watching and thinking about how I’m going to fuck you while you’re tied like that. I’m going to have you and there’s nothing you can do except accept the possession when my cock pounds deep into your tight, slick pussy. I’m going to make you suck me, for hours and hours and hours. I’m going to take you up the ass so hard you’re going to think you’ve been split in half. I’m going to take you, every way you can be taken, and you’re going to take it because tied like this you don’t have a choice. This isn’t about whether you like it or not, honey. This is about whether I like it. I get to have you, exactly how I want you, as long as I want you, objectified, reduced to the sum of your sexual openings, desired but not considered.
And you can struggle if you want, honey. You can protest, I don’t care. Because I know you, and I know deep down you love it just as much as I do, you love the surrender, you love the helpless, hapless exploitation of your body for my pleasure. And you will come for me too, but not because you like it, not even because you need it. You will come for me because it turns me on so much to watch it, and you’re here for my pleasure, bound and presented. So come for me, come tied up, restrained and helpless for me. Come for me right now. Now!
Good girl, such a good girl. You can untie yourself now, but don’t think this is the end. Remember that first rope, remember karada? Next time you go out, I want you wearing it under your dress, to remind you of your place, to remind you that you’re mine. And from now until forever, every time you wear that dress, I want karada under it. Because your mine, all mine.
Surf Girl
I like to dress well. I have to for work, to present the proper image, conservative and professional. I like to be attractive too, in a carefully understated way. I wear a designer blouse, good shoes, a dress skirt, and my stockings are always straight. I do attract attention, I’m pretty and I have a nice figure, but I don’t flaunt it. Flaunting it is cheap, and I’m anything but cheap. I’m the same about everything. I drive a nice car but not the flashy one I could buy if I wanted to. I have a nice house in a desirable neighbourhood by the beach, but it isn’t some ostentatious trophy home like some of the ones around. I have a nice boyfriend, and we have nice sex and he treats me like a princess. I like to surf on the weekends, so it’s good to be by the water. My life is all sorted out.
The first place I saw the stranger was on the beach. I was going to paddle my board out to my island and surf back. It isn’t really my island, but nobody goes there but me, and it has its own little beach. He was just walking down the sand, and he was looking at me, in the eye. I looked away, but when I looked back his gaze was still on mine. I turned away and went into the water and went out to my island. I don’t like strangers who get too familiar. He wasn’t bad looking though, and his eyes seemed kind. Eventually I caught a good wave back and made dinner and he was gone from my mind.
Or I thought he was. I recognized him the next time I saw him, two days later. He was walking down the road while I was watering my garden. I looked up and there he was, his gaze was already locked on mine. He didn’t look away and I wanted him to so I just kept my eyes on his. Men can't hold my gaze for long. But he did.
“Good morning,” I said, because one of us had to say something. I kept my voice polite and reserved. How dare he not look away?
“Good morning.” He nodded and went past.
It was two weeks before I saw him again. Maybe he had to travel for work, maybe our paths just didn’t cross. In my neighbourhood people like their privacy, we don’t ask about their business. It had been a stressful two weeks. I’d had to fire my secretary, which meant dealing with the union, which I hate. I was planning on surfing the weekend away, and I was waxing my board in my front yard in my shorts and tee-shirt. It was hot and I’d brought out a jug of lemonade, just lemons and ice with a hint of sugar, very refreshing. It was the same as last time, I was concentrating on my board, and I looked up, and there he was walking along, his eyes already right there, as if he knew where mine were going to be when I looked up.
“Good morning,” I said, reserved and polite again.
“Good morning.” He should have kept walking, but he stopped, his eyes still locked on mine. They seemed so deep, like hypnotic pools. I wanted him to keep going but he didn't.
I couldn’t just ignore him. “Would you like some lemonade?” I asked. Of course he couldn’t accept, I wasn’t really offering, only being polite.
“I’d like coffee,” he answered. His eyes didn't waver.
Coffee? I hadn’t offered him coffee. He was supposed to smile and refuse and keep walking. Didn’t he know the rules? What could I do? Having offered him something to drink, it would be impolite to not get him what he wanted. I smiled. “I’ll just put some on.”
When I turned around our eyes broke contact, and it was like diving into a cool pool after a warm bath. I felt a fog lift that I hadn't even realized was there, my mind seemed clearer when I wasn't looking into his eyes. At the same time, I missed their inviting warmth. I went inside and he followed. I was surprised, but I couldn't say anything. I had invited him, sort of, though I hadn't inten
ded to. It didn't scare me that he came in despite the somewhat unusual situation. His eyes were kind, it was just that his gaze was so intense.
"Do you like cream?" I asked, to keep the conversation moving.
"I do." He was looking at my kitchen table, which is a good, solid one, an antique built the way they don't build things anymore. He put his hands on it and pushed, as though testing it. "I like your table."
"Thank-you." I smiled. "I got it from..."
At that point I looked up, and his eyes were waiting for mine, right there. I was instantly back in the warm bath, and I relaxed almost at once, forgetting where I’d gotten my table from. He was so damn hypnotic!
"I'd like you to bend over, right here," he said, quite matter-of-factly, patting my table at the end near him to show me where he wanted me. I was shocked! This was too much. I didn't even know him. I was going to tell him to leave, but somehow my lips wouldn't form the words. My throat worked a moment trying to get them out, and I found myself stepping forward, moving around the table. He moved back to give me room, never taking his eyes from mine. Some part of my brain thought I could get away when I turned around to bend over. Eye contact would be broken and I could tell him to go without looking at him again, but the wall over my sink is mirrored, and when I turned around he caught my gaze with his in the mirror before I could recover myself. I bent over, exposing my ass. I couldn't believe I was doing this! It was wrong, against everything I believed in! At the same time, I found myself breathing faster, my heart pounding. He was quite good looking.
The Secret Journey Page 17