Farewell To Frances

Sometimes when I am with my new lover, I can only come if I can imagine you there, waiting to eat his cum out of me, waiting to suck his cock clean of my juices. I know that you are not really there, and I know that it's not healthy, sometimes it even makes me cry because you're not there, frances, and I wish I didn't want you to be there. I wish I didn't need you to be there with me as he spreads my legs and moves his head between them.

I would rather not have to pretend and imagine you there, as his mouth begins to work its magic, licking and sucking....sometimes I wish it were you. I wish that I were holding your leash, forcing your head into my pussy, instructing you what to do to me, how to do it, where to put your fingers, where to put your tongue.

I imagine you bringing me close to an orgasm with your fingers inside me, your tongue in my ass, but before you can finish me off, I tell you to go sit in the corner, to watch a real man fuck me. I order you to kneel, your hands behind your head, at attention. I even gently lick your cock before you assume the position, tasting your pre-cum, knowing how much this excites you, how much you need it to feel like the man that you are, deep inside.

As he mounts me, as his big cock shoves into me, I look over in the corner. And in my imagination, our eyes meet, our gaze is locked, as he fucks me. You know that I am doing this for you, you know that I consider it a privilege to be your goddess.

The pain and the pleasure that I fantasize seeing in your face, as one emotion comes, the previous one disappears and back and forth they continue, as you watch your queen being fucked. You know that when I am full, when my cunt is drenched in his cum, you will have another chance to make me cum - as I order you to kneel between his legs. He will sit on the edge of the bed, as I watch, you hesitantly lick the tip of his cock, tasting me on it, my slickness, my wetness. A taste that is so familiar to you, just thinking of my taste can make your cock rock hard, can't it?

You've tried to push me out of your life, out of your dreams, out of your fantasies, but I keep coming back into your conscience. You can't rid yourself of me, frances, and that makes you angry, it makes you feel powerless, something you are not accustomed to feeling. You like to be in control, always, of your body of your mind and of your life.

But when it comes to me, you cannot help yourself, you are like putty in my hands and in my words.

This is your dream, to suck a man's cock, to be made to behave in a way you don't have the balls to do without being instructed. You want to suck a man's cock, you want to take my cock up your ass but what you really want, most of all, is to take a man's cock up your ass - for me. It would please me to see you with my man's cock up your ass, with tears running down your cheeks, blubbering, spreading your ass cheeks, begging for it, begging for a cock up inside your asshole. You want to be the sissy that you know that you are.

You try to deny it, you don't want me to know you better than you know yourself but I do and you know it so it's time to accept it. It's time to accept your place in my life and my place in your life.

You should be kneeling, begging, turning yourself over to me. I know the sissy-self you hide from the world, I know you for who you really are, so when I imagine you in the corner, fingers intertwined behind your head, supporting yourself on your knees despite the ache. The ache in your knees, the ache in your balls, the ache in your ass (because you know that I would have slipped a large buttplug inside you before I sent you to the corner, stretching you open, getting you ready for my man's cock inside you).

I like visualizing your eyes meeting mine, watching me intently, watching my face for pleasure, for pain, knowing that soon, very soon, you will lick my taste of my man's cock, as it shrivels, you will lick his balls and his thighs, trying to taste all of me, trying to get all of me off of his genitals.

He will hold your head, his fingers wrapped in your hair, guiding your tongue, telling you where to find more of me. You will do anything for me and you know that I need more than one man in my life. You know your place. Your place is about pleasing me. It's what you need, it's what you crave, it fulfills you.

In my fantasy, as my man is fucking me, you are waiting patiently, in the corner, waiting to be yanked by your collar and leash, in between my legs. This is your altar, your fountain of life, my juices sustain you, replenish you, give you what you need to get through another day in your life.

You plunge into my crotch, my taste exciting you, driving you. You can't get enough of me, no matter how often you've been in this exact spot, licking my juices off my clitoris, exciting me, you shove your tongue inside my cunt. You make your way past my own juices and you begin tasting my man's cum. It is all over my pussy, you try to push my legs farther apart, so that you can move your head deeper into my crotch, I order you to stop, and when you look up, I slap your face. My wetness on your face makes it sting all the more. Your eyes tell me that you are hurt. I tell you yet again that I am not to be used for your pleasure, you are where you are because you worship me, and it will always be this way.

"Never move my body to suit yourself. Now like my cunt free of cum, preparing me for the next time my man wants to fuck me. Clean me up, clean my pussy, clean my legs and clean my ass - some of his cum dripped down into my ass. Now, stop thinking and start licking."

Like a devoted dog, you go back to work, cleaning me, exciting me. Your tongue on my clit and inside my pussy, your tongue moving into my asshole, my juices begin to overflow, you lick and slurp wildly. The buttplug in your ass, your tongue working on my cunt, all of this is driving you wild. Your cock is getting harder.

My man points it out, laughing at you. You look pitiful to him, a man so subservient to his woman, so willing to do whatever will please your goddess.

"Look, he's trying to get hard," he tells me, pointing at your growing cock.

You raise your head and shoulders, moving your hands to try to cover up your penis. You are blushing. I slap you again. "Stop trying to hide yourself from me. Bare yourself to me completely."

"Move your hands behind you," I instruct. I reach under the bed, find the handcuffs and tell you to put them on, behind you.

I use the leash to bring your mouth back to your job, "start licking, I am ready to have an orgasm. Don't make me fucking wait, frances! Get to work now!"

My man heads into the shower, knowing that when he requires pleasure again, I will be ready and waiting - or you will be.

With your hands cuffed behind you, you struggle to pleasure me. I use my legs to squeeze your head between my thighs until you begin to struggle. I tell you to lie down, on your back, your arms and shoulders pinned underneath you. I mount your face, rubbing myself back and forth, drowning you in my juices.

"Frances, I thought I told you to keep your cock soft," I tease as I bend over your chest, scratching my nails all the way down. I twist and pull at your nipples, feeling your chest trying to squirm away from me only drives me more insane. I run my tongue down over your belly while my fingernails leave long, unbroken scratches down your front.

When my tongue reaches your cock, it stands right up, practically slapping me in the face. I slap it back down, alternating between sucking it, licking its tip and slapping it, scratching it, squeezing your balls.

Your tongue is working madly in my asshole - your favorite place to be. My ass, you worship it, you fantasize about it. You need it.

Your cock is jumping up and down, your balls are hard, ready to explode and I take the elastic out of my hair, and wrap it around your balls. Your back arches, your knees draw up, in an effort, to cover yourself.

There's no use. You know it and I know it.

You are my little slut, to do with what I will.

I sit upright on your face, suffocating you. I twist your nipples, squeezing them between my fingernails, you scream out in pain but no one can hear you, your protests are muffled in my pussy.

Your tongue words madly, inside my asshole, and I begin to gyrate on your face, using your nose and your lips and your tongue as my toys. Though your ears are covered by my thighs, you can hear me moaning, louder and louder, I begin to cry out....my juices, still mixed with some of my man's cum, you slurp and you swallow, more liquid than you thought was possible.

You can't recall your last full breath. You've had little gasps of air, when I've raised myself up off of your face, while riding you, in ecstasy, but in reality, you prefer my climax to your own air. You'd rather have my juices on your tongue than air in your lungs.

I am moving faster and faster and faster, I hold your head by your hair, ordering you to lick my ass faster, deeper, faster, deeper.

You do as instructed, being the good slave that you are, and I cum and cum and cum, pressing down hard on your face, my thighs squeeze against your ears. You can't breathe, you are drowning in my liquids, a feeling of claustrophobia would bother most but you never feel safer or more secure than when I have enveloped you totally. It calms you down, you turn yourself over to my care, and you know that someone cares, someone understands and that someone, frances, is me.

That is what I imagine when my man is fucking me. I imagine you there, with me - and that excites me more than I like to admit.

Farewell, frances.