Again, I find it necessary to explain myself. I started out to write a two-part story about a writer, new to fiction, who writes about herself telling how she met her lover. The intros and endnotes are part of the story. Some of you have caught on, but, evidently, I confused others.
The first part of the story is factual up to a degree. I changed names to protect the not so innocent; I embellished and camouflaged other factors; most of the plot is overstated. In short, I took liberties, poetic license, if you will, to tell the story. I am, in fact, the Joanna of the story, and my partner, my lover, is Lyssa in the story. I am out of the closet as far as this site is concerned, but not in my real world life. My colleagues do not know my sexual orientation.
The physical descriptions are close; however, the real Lyssa is much more petite than her story counterpart, and I am taller. Another difference: I have reversed their personalities. In real life 'Joanna' has 'Lyssa's' personality and 'Lyssa' has 'Joanna's' personality.
The second part, Joanna's Story, is pure fiction dredged out of the deliciously dirty mind of my lover, TT. She acted as my research assistant and gathered all the bits and pieces you'll find in that second phase, Joanna's Story.
One huge mistake I made was to write chapters instead of one long story. That would have prevented readers from expecting everything in the first chapter.
I will try to explain the confusion. It is a result of my inability to convince Literotica to permit me to categorize the story the way it needed to be. As I've mentioned in the past, I needed a multiphase category that Literotica doesn't have. Therefore it was essential that I use BDSM.
Despite the fact that the heroine has been kidnapped, enslaved, locked in a dungeon, held captive, forced to stand with a pole up her vagina; her nipples and labia pierced, beaten with whips, her nipples clipped, and her labia and nipples chained to a dog, my category of BDSM was denied & changed to Lesbian & Non Consenting Sex. This pulled the rug from under my writing strategy. Literotica evidently expects each chapter to stand on its own merits rather than a piece of the whole.
I don't blame Literotica. They had no way of knowing what I was up to. Unfortunately, I needed that BDSM category to phase into the second part of the story. Readers coming upon my submissions and passing over the Lesbian Sex and Non Consenting Sex went directly to the BDSM and found a non sequitur. They thought that it was a completely independent story and were turned off when the first chapter failed to live up to the intro.
The story was to be a progression, NOT strong BDSM in each chapter. It was meant to build to a crescendo that reached a 'climax' (pardon the pun) in the last chapter. That's what the first half (WLmS] did and would have made that point if it were read. Not reading it first has somewhat caused the confusion. I received some hostile emails from readers who expected the first chapter to be filled with harsh BDSM that was NOT my intention even though that had to be the category.
Literotica is a great site and I'm glad I found it and submitted; however, I did find it a bit restrictive, category wise, for telling my story.
Jonanna's Story Chapter 05
Ken brings his female sex toys into his marital home.
Celia discussed with Susan the outcome of "negotiations" with Ken. She explained what Susan and the other complying women would have to endure if they wanted to be with Ken. She highlighted the fact that there would be no more brutal beatings with the heavier whips; Ken had insisted on the disgusting panty drawer, of course, and the use of the flicker whips, nipple and labia clamps, acupuncture needles and candles, (at least) one snap of the long braided whip on the women's clits, foreign objects inserted in their vaginas and rectums, any type of vaginal, rectal, and oral sex that he wanted, and anything else not specifically precluded by the "contract" with Celia. Celia, being exceedingly unworldly, probably missed many items that Susan had failed to mention or not thought of and so gave Ken a large array of indignities that he could perpetrate on his witch-bitches with impunity.
One item that Celia had wanted to eliminate was sending the women home naked. Ken had tentatively agreed, but did not give his word to end.
Celia thought she was in an awful nightmare and still couldn't believe that the women would agree to such atrocities. Susan and Ken knew that they would. Ken had too strong a grip on them to permit them to refuse once he had them in his bed.
"Celia, you may have made a mistake in trying to get Ken to give up what he wants to do to women. Anything you may have eliminated will make him that much more brutal in the areas you have consented to. I can't see him giving up the harsh whippings either. Negotiating with him may have made it worse for his sex toys.
However, thank you for trying to make it easier for me, but I will still crave having sex with him, and I do want him to treat me a little harshly. That is such a turn on. The worse he treated me, the stronger my orgasms were. I don't want to give that up. Can you understand?"
"In a way I can, Susan, but not entirely. I used to respond to him that way too, but his constant abuse has eliminated that. I feel bound to stay married to Ken, but I really want to stay out of his grasp. His abuse and your accounts of the Wicked Wiccan Wednesdays have destroyed any vestige of feelings I may have had for him. Your contacts with Ken were intermittent, and you had time to recover from each encounter; mine were constant; I didn't have time to recover from one episode to another.
I have had those two photo studio bitches make up a tentative schedule for the other women to come here on Friday evenings. That will start in two weeks so don't change your underwear until then. Oh, another thing that Ken and I have agreed on is that the women will have to come here in a cab. We don't want the neighbors to see a parade of women driving here. If they arrive in a cab, that won't be so obvious. That doesn't apply to you. You can park in the driveway in front of the house. It's not necessary for you to park on the street. In fact, your car will be less noticeable in the driveway.
Oh Susan, I am apprehensive about this whole disaster. Please let me lean on you; I won't be able to handle this without your support. Make love to me, Susan. Help me cope, please."
The women have sex and fall asleep in each other's arms. Ken has come home, but since the two women are in the master bedroom, he doesn't encounter them; in an alcoholic fog, he goes to bed in the ante bedroom. By the time he awakens the next morning, Susan is gone.. Celia refuses to speak to him, so he goes to the basement to practice with the long whip for an hour; then he leaves for the photo studio.
Susan stops by to see Celia on the following Friday; she is obviously upset.
"This isn't going to work, Celia. I've been wearing these dirty panties for just one week, and I can't stand them. I keep thinking that other people can smell the panties and me. Can't I, at least, take them off, bathe, and put them back on? What will they smell like after two weeks? What will those women out there smell like after two weeks? Those women will be having the same problem that I'm having. They are going to be very concerned about how they smell. This isn't the Middle Ages when no one bathed. They didn't smell each other then because everyone stank. I think Ken's wicked witches are going to rebel and not follow the panty drawer rule. Their coworkers are going to complain. Their relatives are going to nag them to bathe. I'm only too glad that this is the last time I have to do this. After two weeks, the other women are going to have rotten crotches. Oh Celia, forgive me. I forgot that you'll have to, uh, service them."
"It gets worse, Susan. Ken is demanding that since he can't beat you, you will have to service, as you call it, those unbathed women, too. Don't put up a fuss, Susan. Ken says if we complain, he'll make it a whole month, rather than two weeks. I'm sick, just sick, imagining what it'll be like."
Friday, a week later, the first women enters the house, looks around, sees a light coming under the ante room door and enters. Ken, Celia, and Susan are fully dressed and sitting on the bench at the foot of the bed.
"Come in, bitch. Take your dress off. From now on, remove your dress before you come in. Just drop it on the floor outside the door. That's right; now throw it through the doorway and close the door. Turn around. We want to look you over. Take your arms away from your tits and keep your hands clasped behind your neck. That's the way you always stay until I tell you otherwise. Keep turning around slowly. Hey, aren't you becoming a nice shade of red. Now, bounce up and down on your toes. I want to see your tits bounce, too. I didn't tell you to stop. Keep bouncing. Okay, take your panties off and exchange them with the ones in the drawer. You've done this before; you know the drill. Damn, you stink. Well, there are two tongues here that will clean you up – and out."
The woman takes off her panties and goes to the panty drawer. She hasn't uttered a word since she entered the room. She is so embarrassed to be naked in front of Ken and the other two women, one of them his wife, that she is trembling. When she opens the drawer, the smell makes her take a step back. She sighs, leans down and picks up the panties and drops hers in the drawer. She closes the drawer and turns to face the other three. She's hoping for a reprieve, but no one says anything, and she knows better than to hesitate too long. She turns the soiled underwear inside out and folds it, so the crotch is on top. Her eyes tear up, and she tries to compose herself. Then she closes her eyes and places the panties inside her mouth with the crotch against her tongue. When the taste assaults her tongue and taste buds, she convulses slightly, gags, and almost throws up. She reaches up to pull the vile thing from her mouth, but thinks better of it and clasps her hands behind her neck. She wishes she could have refrained from coming here tonight. She knows that wasn't an option for her. She is Ken's sex toy for the night.
"Have you douched, bathed or washed your pussy during the last two week?" Ken asks. She shakes her head 'no'. "Have you worn your panties twenty four hours a day?" he asks. She nods yes. Her saliva, mixed with the secretions in the soiled panties, is building up in her mouth, and she is forced to swallow. The taste is increasing with the increase in saliva. She is about to pass out from the awful taste. She has eaten pussy many times before at Ken's command, but the women were comparatively clean. These panties have been 'ripening' for two weeks. She prays to pass out.
"Have you been masturbating at least twice a day while you've had your panties on? Ken probes. Again the hapless woman nods 'yes'. "Okay, suck the crotch of these. I want them to be cleaner when you take them out of your mouth. Her concave cheeks show that she is sucking. Her legs begin to wobble, her knees are about to give way, but she manages to stay standing.
It has been only about twenty or thirty minutes since she arrived, and her ordeal has just begun. She has to hold up until twelve, Ken's witching hour. She knows that if she falters or hesitates, Ken will make her go home naked. She thinks about the distance from the taxi, in the parking lot, to her building and the walk up two flights of stairs to her apartment. That would be even more unbearable than anything Ken does to her in this house. There may not be many people around after midnight, but what if there were? She must be strong; she must not hesitate when he asks something of her. Silently, she curses her addiction to Ken; she curses Ken; and she curses herself.
