Mistys Need Ch 02

Valentina found Misty through that most modern form of dating, the online personal advertisement. She didn't need to advertise in order to find her prey; her world was filled with people eager to give themselves to her. She advertised because she was bored. She had plenty of prey, cattle ready to be sacrificed at her hand, but that prey was dull. She wanted to find interesting prey, for she wanted to be fascinated by whoever sought destruction while under her heel. She wrote a brief advertisement outlining exactly what she was looking for in a potential intimate partner.

A few days after Valentina posted her advertisement Misty stumbled upon it. She didn't know what exactly about it spoke so strongly to her, but something in the words and about the tone made a forceful impact upon Misty. Valentina's words invaded her dreams, both day and night.

Two days after encountering the personal advertisement Misty replied. Her own words quickly seduced Valentina. That was five weeks ago and since that time they had written multiple emails, back and forth, each day, and shared very powerful late night telephone calls.

Through their frequent communication Valentina was able to learn a great deal about Misty. Most surprising to her was the fact that Misty was still a virgin at 24 years of age. She thought that this was especially unexpected given Misty's stunning beauty.

Durring their exchanges Valentina was able to figure out why Misty was still a virgin. She reasoned that Misty remained completely sexually inexperienced because of the extremely dark, degrading, and depraved fantasies that swirled within her imagination. Valentina learned that Misty had never dated through high school or university. Instead she lost herself in books, and once she joined the workforce as a librarian, her library and its books became her life.

Misty had explained to Valentina that she didn't know if she was gay or straight, perhaps even bi. She was attracted to those who she perceived as holding power and having a willingness to use that power against others. She didn't think that it mattered at all to her if that power was wielded by a man or a woman, the attraction worked for her if she could visualize that power being used against her.

Misty had discovered long ago that both of those elements of power were necessary if she were to feel a sexual response. She could not be turned on by a person just because he held power over her, if he was kind and benevolent, then the power was limp and without force, it may exist on some theoretical level, but it didn't exist as a reality for her. Likewise a cruel woman who was without power could not turn her on, for that woman lacked the ability to force her to submit to cruelties. Misty needed someone with the power to harm her and who would not hesitate to cause that harm. She longed to give herself completely to someone, man or woman, who would hurt her, and just as importantly enjoy hurting her.

At Valentina's prodding Misty thought back on why she had never dated, and after some reflection she was able to explain that it was because everyone who had ever asked her out had disappointed her while doing so. She might well find a boy attractive, but when he approached her to ask her out he would be nervous or self conscious, and those feelings of doubt were to her a complete turn off.

Had a boy in high school ever walked up to her and said "I'm taking you out on Saturday night. I'll pick you up at 7:00, wear something slutty for me." She would have melted for him, she would have dressed like a whore for him, and she would have given herself completely to him. No one ever did though. Instead of telling her that they were going out; the boys asked her out. They sought her permission. That weakness disgusted her.

Her permission. That whole concept was abhorrent to Misty. No boy needed her permission to use her mouth; he simply needed to tell her to get down on her knees and start sucking. To slap her if she didn't take him deeply enough.

Later in college, had a girl ever said to her "I saw you staring at my ass in Yoga class, follow me home, I'm going to train you to worship it." She would have never hesitated, but would have done exactly what she was told. Unfortunately for Misty, such words of power and command were never spoken to her. Girls had tried to seduce her, they all came across as gentle and reserved. What they couldn't know was that even the thought of gentleness in her lover was revolting to Misty.

Gentleness, equality, mutuality. Those concepts seemed so important to the girls around her, but Misty didn't understand them at all. Her messy roommate in college spent countless hours trying to divide up the household chores between them, making certain that everything was perfectly fair. All of that effort made no sense to Misty. Her roommate was pretty, and very athletic. She could have easily overwhelmed Misty with physical force. Instead of making lists that divided all the chores equally, Misty thought that the right thing to do would have been to just put every chore on a list for Misty to do, and insist that she do exactly as she was told.

In Misty's opinion sharing a home with her should have been extremely straightforward and easy. As easy as placing a daily chore list on the refrigerator for Misty each morning, demanding that each task on it be accomplished, inspecting the work each evening, and punishing her if and when she fell short of expectations. Unfortunately for Misty, she never found someone who was comfortable using her in such a way to share a home with.

Misty believed that the way that the world actually worked was plain to see, for anyone who was willing to see. The strong taking advantage of the weak. The dominant controlling the submissive. Those who suffer and those who inflict suffering on others. Misty knew that those concepts were the true natural order. As such, she believed them to be the only fair way to lead one's life.

"Bend over bitch so I can fuck you up the ass." "Come in here and bring your toothbrush, I need you to scrub my toilet." "Every night when I get home from work I want three fingers of whiskey in a rocks glass with two ice cubes. You'll have it in my hand within two minutes of my entrance into the house or you'll spend the rest of the evening in the kitchen, kneeling on uncooked rice." Misty explained to Valentina that these were the kinds of things she needed to hear.

She heard nothing remotely of the sort, so with each passing year she escaped a little bit further into her books, living her life in quiet despair.

She wondered what was wrong with boys. Why, if they thought she was attractive, didn't they didn't just push her down in the mud, force her mouth open, drive their cocks and cum down her throat. She would have loved that, but it never came.

She also thought that there was something wrong with girls. She wondered why the aerobics instructor who seemed so hot and dominant didn't order her to stay after class, didn't demand that Misty lick every drop of sweat from under her arms, from her entire body. She would have served with gratitude, yet the opportunity never came.

When she graduated from university she decided to give up searching for love. She told herself that the person she needed did not exist. She allowed herself to get lost within her own fantasy, and through story, the fantasies of others.

Her mother had of course worried about the fact that Misty had never dated. It was clear to her that Misty wanted to find romance and love, but for whatever reason, Misty seemed to flatly turn down any opportunity that came her way. Her mom was unable to help her but had always assured her that love would come when Misty wasn't actually looking for it, and from where she least expected it. They had both hoped that was the case anyway, and now here Misty was, having finally given up on ever finding someone, on a plane to meet in person the most interesting woman she had ever had contact with.

When she was little, like all little girls, Misty dreamed about someday marrying the perfect man. Misty's sister had her perfect fantasy husband completely set in her mind, and she would talk about him often. How he dressed, how he loved her, how he worked hard, all the little romantic things, and all the big gestures he made for her. It was her perfect fantasy, and she would tell Misty and her mom all about it anytime they were willing to listen.

Just like her sister, Misty too had dreamed of the perfect fantasy husband. She knew however that talking about him would not be well received, so she kept him secret.

Her fantasy husband would work to isolate her from family and friends, and would be insanely jealous so he would monitor her movements continually. He would expect his dinner at a certain time every night, and beat her if it was late. He would come and go as he pleased, she would have no money, no car, no resources, no ability to go anywhere without his permission. He'd bring sluts home, fuck them in Misty's bed while she knelt quietly in the corner and make her thank them for pleasuring him as they left. Misty would read about abusive husbands, and that reading was a form of pornography for her. In her mind she wouldn't be abused if she was treated in that way, rather she would find fulfillment and love living at the mercy of a cruel husband.

Misty had her very first orgasm, touching herself through her panty, while a girl, dreaming of this perfect husband. She knew that he had to remain her secret, and he always had, until she told Valentina about him.

Prior to her reaching out to Valentina Misty had never worked up the courage to tell anyone about her fantasies, or her deep and dark longings and needs. Valentina's personal advertisement was the first one she had ever answered, and Valentina was the only person to have ever heard the truth about Misty's soul.

Misty didn't consider herself to be beautiful, pretty, or even cute. She thought of herself as plan at best. Her clothing choices reflected her vision of her looks; she knew that she dressed like a frump, thinking that there was no use in trying to make herself anything beyond plain.

Besides, the few times she tried to dress pretty, sexy, slutty, or for pleasure, her efforts seemed to be rebuffed. She remembered going to the office of one of her professors that she had thought was so hot. Misty tried to seduce him by wearing a schoolgirl outfit with too short of skirt, and too sheer of top. She had even bent over in front of him to show what was on offer. It did no good; he remained behind his desk, talking with her about her coursework. He didn't come around, rip the panty from her body, and fuck her like a whore. He didn't grab a paddle or spank her ass until she howled and cried. He just sat there. Misty's attempted seduction was ignored, her professor kept that meeting professional and free of sex. It seemed to her that he was completely devoid of lust.

Misty remembered dressing in the sluttiest French maid outfit she could find and going to a Halloween party at a fraternity. Boys tried to talk to her, but as always they were shy, hesitant, and careful. It was disgusting to her. Not one of them grabbed her, dragged her into the bathroom, put her on her knees, and demanded that the maid clean his cock. Not one of them held her head to the rim of the toilet, forcing her to clean it with her tongue. Misty knew that she would make a wonderful maid. That she would put all of her energy and gratitude into cleaning a toilet with lips and tongue, if only she were required to do so, yet none of the young men had requirements for her, only requests. To her those requests were revolting.

Misty remembered dressing in a short black leather skirt, with stockings and towering stiletto heels, a sheer white top over it all, her nipples proud without a bra. She wore the outfit, along with a cute little black leather collar to a bdsm night at a local lesbian bar. She wanted to be forced to the ground, ordered to kiss, and lick, and worship leather boots, high heels, bare feet. She wanted to be leashed and dragged out afterwards, forced to worship every inch of her new owner's body. Instead when women approached her they only wanted to talk of limits, and safewords, and consensuality. They were playing a game; Misty knew that what she needed was no game. Their harping upon their apparent favorite phrase of 'safe, sane, and consensual' made her want to run away, screaming in disgust.

In her mind Misty had decided that these encounters, and the others like them just proved her belief that she was plain, a frump, and certainly not enticing to others. She had explained all of this to Valentina.

For her part Valentina held a much different view. She understood how plain Misty considered herself to be, but she had ordered the young woman to send her photos, and those photos proved to her just how wrong Misty was about her looks. The pictures began as normal selfies, but Valentina soon demanded sensual shots, in lingerie at first, but eventually nude. From those photos Valentina knew Misty to be quite beautiful indeed. She assumed that Misty's own distorted view of her looks was connected to her fantasies, her need to feel inferior, and to be treated as somehow less than those around her.

Valentina had an entire transformation of her look planned for Misty once the girl arrived in Mexico. She would show off Misty's beauty, even if Misty never even knew that she possessed it. Once her beauty was revealed, Valentina would devour her prey.

While Misty opened herself and her needs up completely in their correspondence and conversations Valentina did little of the same. Valentina asked much more of Misty than she shared, demanded to know Misty while holding virtually all of herself back. Misty realized that their sharing was very much one sided, but she thought that was only right. She felt that as the submissive within their interaction it was her duty to completely reveal her innermost self to the woman she hoped to eventually serve. On the other hand, Misty felt that it was Valentina's prerogative to withhold whatever she desired. They never wrote about this to each other, but had they done so Valentina would have agreed with Misty's perspective. She knew that Misty would grow to know her over time, but that knowledge would come from experience, not through long distance sharing or opening up about herself to the young woman.

Sex and death, pain and pleasure, blood and decay, life and corruption, power and weakness, control and obedience, joy and degradation, take and give, predator and food. Valentina and Misty had agreed that they were a perfect match, perfect opposites, on paper. Now they would know if their match would hold true in their day-to-day lives.