Her World

K’s a deviant. It’s ok though because she’s aware of it. In her 24 years of life she has come to terms with her inner pervert. Sex is an addiction for some people - it was explained to her by several members of the psychiatric profession and the first step to overcoming any addiction is to recognize the problem. The problem, of course, is as complex as K’s imagination can make it. She has become quite an expert at creating a world of sexual deprivation and fantasy.

There’s the priest she seduces every morning when she awakes. How he quotes the scripture to her while she lies naked, young legs spread wide, on the alter of the old church. With the holy man preaching the gospel of sin and corruption in her ears and her hand clocking sixty under the covers in the dawn light, she gasps and withers in ecstasy. The priest stares, mesmerized by her wanton lust, holding his bible in shaking hands. His eyes widen when she bucks to orgasm, spraying her girl cum onto the tent of his black robe. When her breathing subsides, she opens her eyes and curses the weekday, knowing that she must rise from her soaked bed and get ready for work.

After stripping the sheets and remaking the bed with fresh linen from the well stocked cupboard, K heads to the bathroom for a shower. One glance at the clock on the wall reminds her to hurry or she will be late for work again. With the shower stream warm on her body, she begins to shampoo and wash herself. The soap is slippery over her skin. She becomes enthralled by the feeling of her hands upon her flesh and cannot resist the pull back to her world. Forgetting the time, she takes the hand-held shower massager down and turns the dial to her favorite setting. The manufacture made good on it’s promise of 92 invigorating pulses. When the spray hits her clit, she knows he is behind her, calling her his “little girl”. Cooing and coaxing her to be good for him, to get herself nice and juicy for her daddy. She reaches behind her with soapy fingers and feels him rubbing her young ass. “My beautiful girls likes it when daddy puts it in her ass, doesn’t she?” he murmurs in her ear. She gasps and grabs the anal plug on the edge of the tub, lubing it with soap then pressing it to her tightest hole. “That’s my sweet baby,” he groans as her pushes it into her. She feels the pressure and pain of the first few strokes, then her ass opens and he glides in and out smoothly. She feels her ass tighten around him as the water spray, full on her pussy, brings another shuddering orgasm from her core.

In the mist of the shower, K stares at the tile wall, trying to catch her breath. The illusion fades and she is left alone and empty. She curses the day once more. She curses reality and its annoying ability to tear her away from the world she loves. Sighing, she turns off the water and puts the plug back on the side of the tub. She notices the time. Work started 20 minutes ago. Late again. She knows she will be fired today; they have put up with her tardiness, among other things, for 2 months now and her probationary period makes it easy to terminate her. She feels more relief then regret. Tomorrow she can spend the entire day in bed.

Focused for a while, K dresses quickly, grabs her purse and leaves her apartment, heading for the subway. The street is busy with mid-morning traffic. She avoids meeting the eyes of the passersby on the sidewalk and briskly trudges to the stairs of the underground transit 2 blocks from home. Descending quickly, dropping her token she turns the corner to the platform, placing her back to the wall and keeping her head down. With a roar the subway train comes into the station and stops. The doors open and she waits till the last second before entering, avoiding touching anyone and plops down on a vacant seat. With the motion of the car signaling the 5-minute journey to her office building, she tries keeping her eyes on the floor but her peripheral vision betrays her. The woman seated across from her in the red business suit is beautiful. Long black hair, gorgeous legs, and ample breasts curving her outline, K feels the stirrings within her again. The woman in red is reading the morning paper and drinking her coffee. No, probably a latte, K reasons with herself. A high-powered attorney? A woman of authority for sure. Older. Wiser. A woman who could put her on her knees.

Reality dims and suddenly K sees herself on the floor of the subway car, crawling toward the woman across from her. Head lowered, ass in the air, she slowly moves closer. K knows the other people in the car are staring at her; everyone except the woman in red. She continues to read her paper even as K reaches her feet. On hands and knees, K waits patiently for acknowledgement. A sip of coffee seems to deny the girl on the floor but then the woman in red places the paper to her lap while absently lowering her hand to pet the head of the girl below her. This brings sounds of whimpering from K as she silently begs the woman to demand her services.

Slowly, ever so cautiously, she begins to place gentle kisses on the woman’s ankle. The woman seated, shifts her position, opening her legs slightly. An invitation? K raises her head, trailing her moist lips up the smooth silk of the woman’s stocking. Past her knee, K begins to moan with anticipation and feels the heat of the woman’s pussy on her forehead. The sweet smell of floral perfume combined with the musky smell of cunt reaches K’s nostrils as she pushes her way into the woman’s crotch. Damp panties against her lips make K’s clit throb. She begins to lick and nuzzle the red silk panties in her face and reaches down to stroke her own kitty. The people on the subway are all staring silently. K doesn’t care. She is in heaven. Only the sound of moaning can be heard as she feels her inside walls clenching, her white cotton panties moist. She tries to taste the woman by moving the……….

“Miss. You have to leave the train”. A man’s voice brings K out of it. She is still seated. All the other passengers have moved to the other side of the car, including the woman in the red business suit. Staring at K. Staring at K’s hand in her crotch. Staring with looks of disgust and contempt. K wants to cry, but instead she just lowers her head, removes her hand from herself and follows the man to the door and out the subway. It takes a moment for her to realize that she is on the other end of town at least 15 blocks from her normal stop. Shit. So much for work. Should have just stayed at home today.

Climbing the stairs to the street above, K again keeps her head lowered. She tries to get her bearings by glancing up at the street signs. Yonge and Bloor. Isn’t this where…..? Yes. It’s where his office is. Perhaps it’s a sign. K heads across the street and into the tall glass building that she has entered so many times before. She keeps away from the security guard who smiles at her. She looks on the wall at the directory. Dr. Miles Lawrence; PhD. Psychiatrist. 23rd floor. There is fluttering in K’s belly. Fluttering that scares her. She’s not sure why she always feels this way whenever she comes here. She didn’t feel it the first time though. She only felt it every other time over the last 18 months that she has been coming to see him.

She heads to the elevator. Luckily there is only one other person waiting. An old man.

K keeps her eyes on the floor, praying that he is only going up one floor and is taking the elevator because he can’t manage the stairs. The bell rings. The doors open and a small wave of people exit. K waits till the man gets on then cautiously enters the enclosed space keeping her back to the wall and head down. She sees him push number 26. Shit. With a trembling hand, K reaches out to push the 23 button. As it lights up she pulls her hand back but the old man grabs it. His leer is nasty. “I like young girls,” he snarls pulling himself toward her. He shoves his arthritic hands up her skirt and fumbles with her cotton panties. She resists at first but with his smelly breath on her neck and his fingers groping her sex she finds herself aroused. She moans and begins to buck her hips toward him. “Yes, that’s it little slut. Show me what you like.” He unzips his fly and takes out his cock. It’s small but hard like a short, stubby finger. He begins to jab it into her, pulling her panties aside and pushing her against the wall of the elevator. “You like that don’t you whore?” he spits at her, grunting and thrusting his pencil cock in her. She moans and feels her juices running down her legs when the elevator bell rings. The doors open and so do her eyes. The old man is like a statue with disbelieving eyes. K lets go of his hand, the hand that she thrust into her and quickly steps out of the elevator. Looking back she watches the doors close, watches as the old man continues to stare at his fingers coated with her cum. Shit.

Down the hall is the door where he is. She reaches for the handle and with a deep breath enters his office. Lucy is there typing on the computer. She looks up from her desk and instantly masks her expression but K knows that this woman thinks she is certifiable. Lucy smiles that fake “Sorry you’re a fucking freak” smile and asks her if K has an appointment. She shakes her head, more to remove the image of Lucy in leather with a whip in her hands, than to answer the question. She watches Dr. Lawrence’s secretary pick up the phone and then motions K to the door where he waits mumbling something about how she is lucky that he had a cancellation and can see her right now.

When she enters his office he is there to greet her. Tall, handsome and strong, he looks nothing like the egg-head type her mother used to take her too when she was 8 and was caught on the jungle gym at the school ground standing in front all the boys, her dress held high with her panties around her ankles. Dr. Lawrence asks her to sit on the couch and takes out a pen and pad then positions himself directly across from her. He tells her he can sense that she is having a bad day. She nods this time looking him directly in the eyes. He smiles and says that everything is going to be ok and that she can get a grip on this. He tells her he wants to try an exercise that will help her focus and to close her eyes. When she does he begins to describe a beautiful lake. She is to imagine herself on the front yard of a cottage on that lake where there is no one but her and the wilderness. That she is safe and her mind is focused on rest and relaxation. His voice reaches her continuing to describe the image. Serene and tranquil. Safe and normal. A summer day at the cottage. Nice.

When she feels the smooth head of his cock against her lips she hungrily takes it into her mouth. His voice continues to encourage her to relax and enjoy the fantasy while she sucks on him. Warm and hard, his cock is like candy to her. Like English toffee. Like fine chocolate. She feasts and moans and wants to devour him. He thrusts in and out and his groans obliterate the cottage and the lake. Warm liquid pours into her, like sunshine. She is happy……. she feels safe…… she hears him whisper her name. She opens her eyes and he is still sitting on the couch. His pants zipped up. Smiling at her. She shakes her head with disappointment trying to smile back and telling him that, yes, she does seem to be more focused now. He leads her to the door and reminds her that he is here anytime she needs him. She thanks him and heads out, past Lucy, down the hall to the ladies room.

She approaches the sink and stares at her image in the mirror. Maybe she will be ok. She does seem to feel a little better. Maybe he is right and she can get past this. A smile curves her mouth and she begins to believe that everything will be normal for her. Something white at the corner of her mouth catches her eye. Toothpaste? Her tongue snakes out and tastes the salty liquid and she knows instantly that everything will never be normal in her world.