Neither a writer nor an author, you could describe me as your kinky next door neighborhood Slut, enjoying utterly lust and perversity in all shapes. This humble Black Dress Chronicle is inspired to a certain degree by my deeper fantasies, although and essentially portrays some of my real life depraved adventures. In plain English, most of my here narrated confessions did happen in a way or another... Your thoughts, comments and suggestions are more than welcumed. Enjoy your reading. Take it or leave it :)
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After a recent relocation to Paris, France, transfer related to Master's career, our sexual life improved far better than ever, nonetheless, with an increased diversity and stable ascent towards higher levels of perversity, eroticism and debauchery. This new chapter will offer you, dear Reader, a small glance into my constant transformation "en route" to becoming the ideal submissive Slut Wife at the service of my husband, my Master.
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Upon events narrated in Chapter 5 depicting my "surrender" to 3 Nigerian Airport Security Officers, I remained overwhelmed and in shock. Regardless, my misery was a malicious mischief covertly conceived by Master and his business Associate. What was the true purpose of this madness? Was I punished for not being sociable and "open" enough towards their creepy proposals? Was I not playing along to any of their fallacious schemes, bending myself like an obedient Jezebel? Oddly, all my recent vicious misfortunes had awakened a deeper sexual intoxicating spark, thus speculating what would or could come next.
Making way to a private limousine, I hardly took note of our appointed Black Chauffeur, distracted by growing sinful thoughts. Once seated and whilst showering me with tenderness and care, Master complimented yet aloud my earlier breath-taking airport despairs. He openly expressed how proud he was of his CUNT, me his trophy Wife, and by what means the Slut had worshiped Black Cocks. How "hungrily" she pleasurably submitted herself to Mr. Taser, and how "willingly" she begged receiving numerous electrical "cum" jolts on her breasts, pathetic fuck-holes and clitoris. Those were signs of a true Fuck-Toy as strongly emphasized. Master's obscene and audible assertions convincingly caught the Driver's attention, nonetheless.
Albeit, Master's reflections were like honey to me, my confidence first off regained from the airport's prior nonsense. Empowered by his recounts, I snuggled deeper into Master's loving arms, thus not reacting when he teasingly lowered the upper part of my soiled Black Dress. Cruelly, my breasts were now fashionably revealed, alongside to the Driver's rear mirror crystal clear vision. Master pointed out to his Associate that CUNT's poor nipples and futile tits suffered indeed a great deal from all preceding torments. They would definitively need soothing and special rewards before anew hardships. His perverted Partner concurred and with a wicked look declared he just had the proper "remedy" to that concern.
"When Lovers do get hurt, the sole way to cure Pain is through Tenderness, Kisses and... Bites! The latter to remind Sluts that Lust's true essence is gifted merely over sharp labor".
Intrigued, Master sought what was on his Partner's mind, adding as his Slut Wife ultimately suffered but ravishingly "self-claimed" Mr. Taser's "unconditional" electrifying Love, CUNT (my stage name) would therefore inquire on the "medicine" and its execution. On-wards, SLUT would also address his Collaborator in a proper way, humbly referring to him as "SIR", a seal of gratitude, consent of property and submission. His Partner remaining an eerie depraved Pig to my mind, I gathered courage and responded to both.
"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master. CUNT is a worthless SLUT with sole purpose to consequently provide to any of SIR and Master's needs. Please SIR, CUNT obediently begs SIR to enlighten SLUT with the proper medicine and completion. Thank you, SIR."
Not to mention, confused at first by all matters blatantly unfolding at the back of the limo, our Driver was yet entirely savoring the wicked interactions. While driving us to our Hotel amid obvious contentment, he ingenuously played with his cock over his uniform, to the sounds and view of my anew humiliation. What a dirty pervert, but nothing I could interfere with.
Satisfied with my plea and servility, SIR softly pinched one of my uncovered nipples, teasing it with expert fingers until perfectly spread and proudly erected. I did not move. To my sheer surprise, he then bluntly lowered his repulsive mouth onto the breast. Covering the bosom with devotion and affection, he alternated aside kisses, tongue play and the sweetest of passion. SIR's "remedy" on the distressed breast was purely delicious and at most divine, I had to admit.
Master ordered me to place both hands above head, to the effect and purpose of extensively raising my breasts. He further enticed me to shake and wiggle them rapidly left and right, while submissively inquiring our Driver if the view of my bosoms was enjoyable. In shame, I did as demanded. "Driver, do CUNT worthless breasts please you?" His reply was unexpected. In broken English, he simply answered, "White Bitch titties so ugly, only OK for hard spank." Master agreed those words were spoken by a true Connoisseur, the Driver's wish to be therefore granted. In unison, SIR and Master alternated gifting my poor breasts to the palm of their bare hands, until tears run out of my eyes. Slap. Whack. MMM. Smack. Wham... MMM
Thus my tormentor's bosom "Love" and "Medicine" perfection, soft moans disturbingly came out of my mouth. The overall effect and care undoubtedly heightened my sexual arousal. Both breasts firmly "heated" and awaken from the skillful spanking, SIR yet enclosed one of "his property's" nipple in between his sharp teeth. Rewarding me with horrid bites, he reminded us "To cure "Lovers" misery, rough medication must be gifted, even for CUNTS". Despite, I freely drove my chest back and forth into SIR's tusks, self-twisting besides the eager nipple like a true Pain Slut I was being turned into!
The roaring sigh I lastly emitted from SIR's bites made all of us grasp our Driver was focused more on what was done to my poor breasts, rather to his duty. Master and SIR even laughed like horny kids when he almost crashed the limo into a nearby road sign post! I was now hardly a White Slut into the Chauffeur's mind, letting my breasts obediently and publicly manhandled.
Playing along, I further aimed gifting the Driver an extra sultry "peep-show" for his money. Widening my legs above Master and SIR's knees, he yet had a perfect frontal view of my soaked and hungry pussy. This was easily attained due to the nature of my tiny Black Dress having a life of its own engaged into our kinky games. Yes, what a Bitch I was truly becoming, willingly displaying my honeypot and pink pearl to a stranger and not being bothered amore of it.
Master disciplined me to stimulate my clitoris for the Driver's amusement, but not to cum, an out of limits topic as he clearly noted. I did comply, fingering with gusto the avid slit for the Chauffeur's observance. He must have cum instantly into his pants based on the savage sob we all heard. Wicked, yes, but what a kinky feeling indeed...
After reaching the "Transcorp Hilton Abuja" Hotel, Master inquired Reception if all prerequisites were settled, including a framed cradle, ordered items and garments delivered to our Suite. The Concierge confirmed all wishes were disposed suitably. Why did Master ask for a cradle? We did not have any infants with us, I wondered. Once in the Hotel apartment, SIR headed to his room for a rest, Master and I to what I thought for now our chamber. Oddly, a baby crib was mounted in the leaving room area, more like a secure cage for a wild beast than anything else. What was the purpose of this? Yes, why?
Master kindly advised I should take a shower and freshen up. Guests would later join for business dealings, his obedient trophy Slut Wife committing to be at most sultry, voluptuous but docile for our visitors. He insisted on those facts. In truth, I was a mess and felt like a cheap dirty Bitch, a nice warm bath and self-pampering would much put at ease my body and soul. I queried Master what to wear afterwards, my soiled tiny Black Dress utterly ruined. He reasoned a pertinent outfit and related "ornaments" would be prepared on CUNT's BED. The wording "CUNT's BED" emphasized, I did not think much of that. Yet, I should have had...
Stripping down of what was left of my clothes, I stepped into the shower. Turning the Water on high, my unfortunate body and psyche were both gently beaten by a steamy river of warmth. Closing eyes to the inviting cleansing, the heat soaked into my skin. I leaned against the shower tiles, weak legs threatening to fall, mind in total shreds. I would never forget the primal Airport events, my soul recalling vividly every humiliation, every torment endured, over and over. Yet, lusting spurs grew anew, spreading rapidly. I had to sexually release myself, at all costs, without thinking of whatever consequences if any.
Like grasping hands, the teasing Water traveled down by my side, intimately seducing breasts, pussy and clitoris. My mind faded farther into a foggy sensual fallacy. The sensation of the steamy shower eased my brain of humiliations I literally did not care for anymore. I was blissfully standing under an everlasting lustful Waterfall, a moist Lover demanding sacrifice of a daring, passionate, guilty but most needed orgasm.
Like a worthy and obedient Whore, my sole desire was to fulfill the Waterfall's carnal demand. One hand screwing both breasts and nipples like a possessed Slut, the other hand amorously worshiped the heart of my femininity, my eager to be pleased pink pearl clitoris. Flashbacks of the Airport troubles and Security Officers marvelous thick Black Cocks roughening my pleasure-holes were simply too intense. What was happening to me?
