The Blac Dress Chronicle

Neither a writer nor an author, one could describe me as your kinky next door neighborhood Slut, enjoying utterly sexuality and perversity in all forms. This Black Dress Chronicle is inspired to a certain degree by my deeper fantasies, although and essentially portraying some of my real life depraved experiences. In plain English, most of the situations here narrated did indeed happen in a way or another... Your thoughts, comments and suggestions are more than welcome. 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, none the less with an increased diversity and stable ascent towards higher levels of perversity, eroticism and debauchery. This new chapter established on recent real life experiences will offer You, I hope, a small glance into my constant transformation "en route" to becoming the ideal submissive Slut Wife to Master.

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Married to Master, acting Director of his company's branch in Paris, I am to follow strict rules and always keep a respectful attitude towards employees, in any given situation, serving as the boss's wife after all. Master believes in appreciation to all staff members and does not tolerate unnecessary "tantrums", especially coming from his beloved Slut Wife. Recently, I admit despite getting jealous of his Executive Secretary, a very devoted and skilled assistant. In her late 20's, she is indeed a stunning French beauty, always dressed properly although too sexy for me, and... With a highly exclusive adoration for her boss, my Master! Observing her demeanor, it got into my mind she labored to draw Master deeper into her "skirt", hence my growing resentfulness. Through the below narrated events, I would be proven wrong on this matter at a later stage...

The Story goes...

My attitude towards Master's Secretary was reaching extreme and unjust levels. To be honest, I treated her unfairly at any possible occasions. This was purely established on the resentment she persisted in seducing Master and aiming to put me out of the picture, so to speak. Blame it on a woman's vanity, I guess. Approaching Master's office on an impromptu visit, I caught the end of a conversation between him and his Secretary. This discussion concerned a "Situation" to be dealt with and a fair lesson to be taught to the "Slut". Worried about what or whom they were referring to, I entered Master's office at once. Tension could be felt while the Assistant and I both crossed eyes. Master quietly asked me to take a seat and listen carefully to what he would inform us about. With a malicious tone, he asked, ordered would be more appropriate, for any bad feelings held between his Secretary and me to halt immediately. He wished for us to have a girl's night out the later weekend, with the purpose to ease possible misunderstandings. Before any objections and to my confusion, the Assistant accepted the proposal first off with an odd smile, Master lastly adding all was now set.

Not to mention I was furious while leaving the premises with Master afterwards, I tried to put sense into him by not tolerating this plan. She was his employee and I his Wife. Master gifting me with a new tiny highly provocative expensive Black Dress I had laid eyes on, a later exquisite dinner, and made Love by him that same night in the most erotic way, I reluctantly agreed with Master's idea on the "date" with his Secretary.

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To my disappointment, the Weekend reached us sooner than later. Filled with anger and suspicion towards his Secretary, my mind was set on making her fully understand her place. Preparing for the evening under Master's guidance, he asserted I should wear the new sexy Black Dress. Often reminded for being his Special Trophy Slut Wife and act accordingly, Master urged I should attire myself with the most outrageous accessorizes. He chose for me the sultriest dark "Dim Up" stockings, an assorted black see-through G-string for my well-trimmed cherry, no bra and matching Louboutin high heel shoes. Our chamber maid finally applied to my face the most delicious albeit slutty makeup. I really looked stunning, Master complimenting how beautiful, desirable, classy albeit so fuckable his Slut Wife was. He openly mentioned that even a Monk would "abuse" his Trophy Slut Wife on the spot seeing her in that Black Dress hardly covering her ass. Those words and attention lifted even more my confidence. The cock's bulge in his pants was vivid proof, empowering me that his Bitch Assistant would be ashamed of her mindset and planned actions to catch Master in her "love hole" scheme.

Conclusively, Master added three little "peculiar" additions to my outfit. He wrote the word "BITCH" above my shear pussy, the word "DoG" on my bare ass cheeks, the "O" being my precious backdoor while fitting a divine diamond slave collar to my neck. Used to this sort of unusual "decorations" and games, they were in any means part of our kinky life style. I did not pay much attention to this, although I should have based on the later related events.

At last, the Secretary arrived to pick me up for our date, as agreed. She gorgeously wore the same exact tiny alluring Black Dress, thus increasing deeper my anger towards her. None the less, she complimented me on my beauty and class, trying to ease me with what I thought futile comments. I swore to myself I would get back to her on this audacity. I was so wrong on who would "profit" of this, based anew on the later circumstances...

While driving away and some small talk, the Secretary intimated she had planned our evening with "Tail-Wagging" surprises, epiphanies that would definitively clear out the "Situation". Lost in my thoughts and still furious at her, I did not pay much attention to her words. Although and strangely, my eyes wondered on her delightful legs, thus secretly admiring the way she was clothed in that same Black Dress. A pure young femme fatale, she most definitively made men turn heads and "cocks" on her, I reflected. What a Bitch, but what a sublime one.

Approaching a majestic Mansion located in a secluded park, she pointed out we were attempting an exclusive party held in my honor by a dear "Lady" to her. Emphasize was added to the word Lady. She voiced and hoped this would settle any of our misunderstandings and further ease any resentment between us.

Entering the Mansion, the Secretary greeted our Hostess in the most respectful manner. Introduced to the Lady of the House and to my amazement, she mouth-kissed me in an oddly albeit sensual modus operandi demeanor. Not thinking much of this, I brushed away any awry thoughts, the Lady being openly friendly or simply a Lesbian. Through my shared life with Master, I equally experienced men and women, none the less. Our Hostess further glorified the way my Black Dress exquisitely draped my body, while my presence would definitively enhance the party and later "willing" wonders.

Offered a glass of champagne albeit politely refusing, the Secretary kindly maintained with a curious smile I should accept it. Highlighting I "served" as the guest of honor after all, I should neither sound rude to our Hostess. I must admit here that I am not a heavy drinker, alcohol and I not being best friends. Gently told, the drink would make me feel in addition "complaisant" and "fully" enjoy the party. Importance was given to the words "complaisant" and "fully", thus making the deed sound deviant. I finally accepted the champagne and drank it.

I noted with an inquiring mind the presence of several female guests and not a single male. All women were elegantly dressed, this detail certainly made the party at most grandiose. Parading me through the reception hall with her arms notably enlaced around my waist, our Hostess initiated me further to every guest. Offered meanwhile with new glasses of champagne, I yet thirstily drank them, my mouth curiously getting drier. Was this the result of every female guest warmly welcoming with a mouth kiss? Was this the result on some of them openly groping my ass while granting my lips with their kisses? Indeed, after drinking more champagne, I felt calmer, somehow senseless, dizzy and weaker, but yet unbothered about those occurrences.

While having girly talks on fashion and shopping, I noticed some of the guests playing at billiard. The giggling Secretary proposed we should both join in and settle any of our differences through cue, balls and sticks. Feeling now in a second state, I eagerly accepted her challenge, confident to beat her and lastly, prove who the boss really was. Although my skills at billiard very poor, none the less, we engaged. Offered anew some champagne, I accepted them with even greater hunger as the heat was uncommonly getting warmer. I simply felt into euphoric state and could not figure out why.

Have you ever tried playing billiard wearing high heel shoes and a tiny short dress? The robe easily rises up by itself while you bend over the billiard table. The dress makes it harder for you to hit any balls with the cue stick. The robe becomes part of your opponent's scheme to beat you at your own game. You do keep although pulling the dress down but it enforces you with its own magical life and mind. The purpose of the dress is, after all, to lift itself up, again and again, sadistically having all your assets on display. My Black Dress compares to a Cock, possessing my body, soul and assets to constantly be hoisted, perpetually erected. The mind of my Black Dress is set on using me as a canvas for its higher desires and for me to be merely the object of its carnal obsession...

While concentrating on the billiard game, I invariably forgot my Black Dress was essentially settled half way above my cherry and ass. The robe offered an obscene sight to my matching see-trough G-string and strangely wet albeit shaved pussy. One of my breasts had also decided to break free and yet, hanged out of the Dress in plain vision. Unwilling to realize what was going on, all seemed to be a dream to me. Or was it a nightmare? In this awaken dream, I noticed eyes wandering with lust over my obscene exposure. Crude comments were made about my derriere, observations on my pussy and how it would be a pleasure to "abuse" afterwards. I felt furtive hands brushing on my ass cheeks and hanging breast. I remained albeit enchanted into this daydreaming nightmare. My mind could not or would not react to any of this, solely fixed on the billiard game and beating the Secretary at it.

My conscious warned me of the verbal humiliations and names called at my attention, Slut, Whore, Dirty Bitch and more. I did not mind although. Shockingly, I lived in a state of exaltation while losing control of my self-consciousness. Perfectly aware of the surrounding events, mouth wanting to scream and object to all of this, my body was enslaved in sexual moisture, heat and constant arousal. Against my will, I strikingly aimed at reaching higher levels of carnal stimulus, my cherry wetter, nipples hardened like granite and a definitive rush to play with my cunt.

I wondered now why some of the guests were indecently referring to the "DoG". Not a single dog was seen upon our arrival at the Mansion. Suddenly it hit me like a sharp knife. I remembered Master writing the word "DoG" over my ass checks, word now gifted as a prune reflection to all guests.

Imagine for a moment this suggestive scene... Trying my best at poorly playing billiard, my tiny Black Dress is lifted up half way over my derriere and pussy. The "DoG" word encrusted on my bottom is exposed to all and in plain sight. This indecent scene includes me bending over the billiard table as fine as I could to hit the balls. I am standing on one leg with the other one lifted high in the air, perfectly stretched out. I am (un)willingly gifting a pornographic reverse view to my wet pussy, making it seem most of all that I am openly trying to release my cunt by "self fucking" it over the billiard table's end.

I guess I was after all. A very surreal situation indeed, I confess...

Noting my clumsy billiard expertise, the Hostess offered to further "help" improve my skills, something I amazingly accepted and eagerly obeyed. Due to my poor dexterity, she was literally embracing my body, from behind, "using" me purely as a play doll to hit the balls with the cue stick. Our bodies worked in unison at what seemed more a sensual dance then playing billiard. I literally abandoned myself into her voluptuous arms by letting her guide me through the game. Often placing one of her legs between mine, I had the curious feeling she was trying to stretch my ass cheeks wide open and caress my cunt with her soft thighs. She also and deliberately lifted my Black Dress higher with her hands at any occasion, further exposing my white flesh to all. I still did not react, I could not. The Lady yet announced out loud the "love pill" was taking its full grip and "festivities" would begin, a warning I again over ignored. I was drugged, most of all drunk, and definitively feeling wet and horny.

In total ecstasy, the guests observed the word "BITCH" written above my pussy. The point of no-return had been finally reached, the ultimate signal given to the feast to come. Without any warnings, the Hostess vigorously lowered the top part of my Black Dress, openly exposing my naked breasts. Placing my exquisitely erected nipples in between her fingers, she pulled both in harmony and as hard as one could possibly do so, squeezing them harshly for potential objections, if any would come. Collapsing on top of the billiard table with a loud moan, I lost consciousness from the hard pain endured, a misery shined top to bottom through my aroused nipples and breasts.

I gently and gradually woke up from what seemed eternity whilst apprehending a soft albeit bright green carpet around and under me. Placed flat down over the billiard table, I did try to stand up although but, could not move at all. What happened to me?

Getting senses back while adjusting eyes from under a blurred dark veil, to my deepest fear I felt my arms stretched and tied firmly behind my head. A fresh breeze caressed my love holes. Why? Looking down, I noted both of my legs spread wide in an outrageous "V" shape position and as well securely bound at the rear of my head. Afraid albeit on fire, I unwillingly "offered" a full frontal view and, most of all, a total access to my cherry and precious backdoor. My expensive Black Dress still in place, it folded around my stomach like a belt. This is when I finally concluded the blurred dark veil covering my eyes being actually my see-through black G-string. Due to the essence of its fabric, I could "enjoy" my surroundings, although wetness felt and pussy perfume confirmed it indeed as my G-string.

My breasts hurt like hell due to sharp "crocodile" nipple clamps tightly connected to each of my poor engorged nipples. Both were hoisted high in the air, a metal chain stretching them strongly to the above billiard lamp. The female guests certainly understood my prized nipples belonged indeed to my most erogenous zones. Every time the crocodile clamps jerked, the result made me moan like a "Bitch in Heat". Through laughs and without losing time, they tormented both my nipple and tits by slapping the mounds like cheap punching balls. My breasts were bounced from left to right to further test the strength of the bespoken nipple clamps. And the clamps resisted, procuring more atrocious pain. The effect must have been at most sublime as increased moans encouraged them to bounce both packages harder. They also scratched my tits with their sharp nails, making sure I fully "appreciated" the ordeal.

I implored anyone who could hear me, anyone, to stop this non-sense and further release me of my torment. Nobody came to rescue, although...

Shouting profanities and curses to all, a billiard ball was yet placed in front of my mouth. Ordered to stick my tongue out and lick the ball clean, it would "intimately and tightly" get acquainted to my rude vocal cavity, as informed. The Lady added "This will suit well a 'DoG" that enjoys cocks and licking balls. It will also teach a good lesson to the "Bitch" in making false assessments to her devoted employees". Crude observations were noted further on the "DoG" word written on my ass cheeks and, especially, on the word "BITCH" critically placed above my shaved pussy.

Although, I still did not fully understand why all of this happened and the reason of this foolishness.

Wanting to push my punishment even more, some of the female guests took turns in slapping my cherry, clitoris and bare bottom with billiard sticks. My poor love holes and love button did suffer a great pain by those heavy blows, tears coming out of my eyes. In total shock albeit, the more they hurt me, the more of my cunt juices flew out. The more they tormented me, the more I was moaning and turning into a Pain Slut.

After a while of this harsh billiard cue sticks beating, they gave full attention to my proudly engorged clitoris. This was done by squeezing it, caressing it, licking it, biting it, hitting it again and again. My clitoris was tormented while openly "pleasured", bringing me several times to the verge of an orgasm, although and always without Nirvana granted. What a frustration. The Hostess informed to all gathered I was not here for my pleasure but to be thought a lesson. They tormented my cherry and love button for ages, but never did let me orgasm. Like a mad and possessed Fuck Doll, I begged to be sexually released through muffled moans coming from under my new "Lover", the pool ball infused into my mouth.

All those muffled moans in vain, as no orgasm was granted to me. No Nirvana yet...

Instructed to stay quiet and obey any given orders, the billiard ball would be released from my mouth. They asked if I understood what was demanded of me by shaking my head in total submission. I notified them my compliance and obedience. After ball removed, the Secretary climbed on top of the billiard table, crouching over my face, her legs wide open and her tiny Black Dress lifted above her waist. That same Black Dress I so eagerly possessed. In her full splendor, she looked like a Queen, thus my face her throne. She enlightened me her pussy and ass hole were unwashed and my duty as a "DoG" to lick both clean, while further bringing her to climax with my tongue.

Humbly begging to know why all of this was done to me, she finally confessed her revenge and plotted actions. She knew I talked trash about her at the office those past few weeks, my jealousy overtaking common sense while making false assessments. She never desired Master in her "dress" in any cases. After all, she was a Lesbian and with no interest into cocks or men's balls, hence the billiard ball previously acquainted to my mouth. She further added this was a well-deserved treat for a dirty cunt rich Bitch, hence the word "BITCH" written above my pussy. Concerning the "DoG" word written on my bare bottom, she explained the motive behind this treat. As she proudly worked with the highest devotion to Master, I should have taken example on her, hence for my lessons and education in becoming an obedient "DoG".

She totally shocked me when she finally admitted my ordeal was set up by Master to teach me respect, good manners and cure my jealousy through those trials. The Secretary conceded I was further drugged to enhance all my sexual senses and "fully" appreciate what was done to me, thus her revenge and payback to Master's sex craved Slut Wife.