Member-only story
Alice has written a poem for Mistress. She was set a task to write her reflections on being made a whore. Alice experienced excitement and joy, she experienced a deepening of her submission. She is standing naked in front of her Mistress who sits in an armchair, one booted leg crossed over the other.
“Read me your poem Alice.”
“Yes Mistress.”
Alice clears her throat, feels herself going red as her ladycock rises, hard despite the hormones, hard because forced sex for the entertainment of the woman she adores is the hottest thing she has ever done, the culmination of all her kinky desires. She reads
“As the last piece of clothing hits the floor
You order me to sing and dance some more.
I sing, I sigh, let out a pre-orgasmic moan,
Gyrate and twerk. I am the happiest clown.
Mistress, You mock the needy slag I am become,
Craving a throbbing cock, to swallow the come
Of a stranger called in from a drab, terraced street
To fuck me, use me, leave me spent at Your feet. “
Alice finishes reading and bows her head, fearing that Mistress will not be pleased with her work, that harsh punishment will be coming.
“That’s lovely Alice, really lovely and it’s technically very good. I know. I have a degree in English and I was an English teacher before I went into…
