Message-ID: <36211asstr$1019437803@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: sybian1@aol.com (Sybian1) Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit X-Original-Message-ID: <20020421125733.29987.00003230@mb-cb.aol.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 21 Apr 2002 16:57:33 GMT Subject: {ASSM} A Symphony of Debauchery (MdomMM/f, BDSM) By Sybian and Your slave Date: Sun, 21 Apr 2002 21:10:03 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: kelly, dennyw A man and a woman exchanging emails over a period of weeks wrote the following story. A Symphony of Debauchery By Sybian & Your slave Pt1 (C) 2002 by your_slave02@hotmail.com & Sybian1@aol.com All rights reserved. No part may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic means, including photocopying, recording or by any information and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author. " I must be losing my mind ", she thought as she made her way down the street. Foremost in her mind, the inherent danger of answering the beckoning call of a stranger. A man, whose erotic prose had held her captivated for months. It was as if he had looked into the darkest corner of her mind, the place that she ran to in her solitary lusting. The place where she could conduct herself as luridly as she wanted, where she saw the person that was lurking deep inside her. A slut. A whore. She had never let these erotic images of herself come to fruition. " I am a mother, a sister, a daughter. I am an upstanding member of my community," she would think to herself; fearing the woman that lay beneath her outward personage. Also, afraid of what her husband would think. Eager to please him, at the same time denying herself of this woman who longed for release. She saw herself in the writings of this stranger, this man that she was running to. How did he know that women longed to be manipulated? Was she not alone in these yearnings? Over their months of writing e-mails, she found that she was not alone. This man, known only as Steven, would be the one to guide her to this awakening. She could have waited, coaxing her husband into this role. But over the months of writing, she had grown fond of this stranger, and had made the hazardous decision that she would give this gift to him. Her emancipation. "I can't believe I'm doing this again," he thought as he strode into the Airport Marriott. Much like Michael Corleone in Godfather III he felt that every time he tried to get out something always pulled him back in. More like someone. Cathy. It was her pristine innocence that did it. Her honesty. Her yearning. She had seduced him like no other, and her complete unawareness that she was doing it was the key to her. Even now, he knew that as she was driving to him, she would be wet with anticipation of her deflowering. Of course she was not a virgin, why she was a mother, a grown woman, a wife, but in so many ways a virgin. She wanted to be a whore, at least for this night, to reach down into the darkness of that part of her that she had long denied. Slut. He knew that when he called her that she immediately became aroused, for it was so contrary to the person she had designed for the world to see. And yet it was the truth of her. And he had shown her that she could no longer deny it. And she had told him that she no longer wished to. But there was a terrible danger lurking and Steven wondered if Cathy was aware of it as well. Of course she knew. She was so smart, so perceptive, and so self-examining. Though all the months of emails and phone games could just be called flirtation, though fiery as it was, this night could change everything for them both. He knew that when he finally held her in his big arms and felt his hardness press against her, that the danger would become readily apparent. The danger was that they might fall in love. Always sensible, cautious, putting family honor before her own desires and needs, this was the essence of this woman. Solely devoted to her family, she had dreamt of a day when she could indulge in her own activity and desire. Steven had provided a venue for her to do just that. All the while, peeling back the lamination that she had encased herself in, an armor of sorts. How had he reduced her so? What was it about him? He was just words on a screen, yet he had turned her into a slave for his words. She knew nothing of him, there wasn't that spark or physical attraction that so many people use as a catalyst to start a romance. So like Cathy. She cared so little for the things that most people found appealing in the opposite sex. His photo revealed a most beautiful man, strong in stature and body, eyes that cut right through a woman's soul. But she hadn't even seen his face when she found herself longing for him. She didn't know anything about his life, how he labored or how he spent his time. She saw in his writing a man who knew what a woman wanted and that was all she needed of him. Time and again it was this man, Steven, who had driven her up to her bedroom, away from her family to cater to his whims. " Dip your hand in your white honey. Then write me of it." It was comments like that which had driven her to his arms. He would fuck her. And fuck her again. Make her crawl across the floor and beg for his cock. Worship it. He would show her that his cock could be the focal point of her existence. He would defile her. Make her plead to swallow his cum. Get her to the point where she kneeled on the floor, presenting her gorgeous big ass to him, spreading it open with her hands, and through her sobs said, "Please, Steven, please. Fuck your whore's fat ass. My ass needs a cock in it sooooo bad. Please." And it was quite a remarkable ass. He smiled inwardly again thinking of the time a few months ago when he had sent her that link to an AdultToy site Anal Sex Toys for Men and Women and had her purchase a Butt Plug. And because he asked her too, she inserted it and wore it while she carried out her daily mundane chores. He had to stifle a laugh when he imagined her in her minivan, carpooling the neighborhood kids, a buttplug in her ass, because her unseen Master had requested it. It was their secret. And kept Cathy constantly on edge. She loved secrets. And he was her darkest secret yet. She thought back to all of the early mornings she rose before dawn, running to his words. She had many days of strong reservation. Among the many women he had seduced, she was certain, would have more experience than she. Could she still please him? She had been told by the handful of men that she had allowed herself to be with that she was skilled in the art of fellatio. She loved to suck a man's cock, using her entire mouth, especially her tongue. But many of them were boys of a life long before marriage. This was a man. And she was so eager to please him. She found him to be encouraged by her obedience, she catered to his every whim, did whatever she was told. She loved the control he had over her and surrendered herself to his desires. She knew that everything that he asked of her had a purpose. She did not question his requests for in the end she knew that he would make her whole. He was her fantasy. Steven delighted in her blind obedience. Cathy had written him that he had become her fantasy, a role he delighted in. Cathy's fantasy. A burden as well. But she made it easy, her compliance to his wishes a secret gift. He allowed his mind to drift back to the moment he realized her specialness to him. Steven had set up a voicemail box so that he may hear her voice when their correspondence began. He also wanted to make sure it wasn't a man writing to him in that early stage. Silly now in retrospect, but it had happened once or twice before, his on-line stories being a magnet both for sincere ladies and lonely, bored men. Her husband was away golfing and Steven had bid her to call the number so that he might hear her climax as she masturbated. She willingly complied. And he could tell by the joyous sounds of this woman in heat that his suggestion took her to a new level of autoeroticism. He remembered how many times he listened to the playback that night. And how he too masturbated, cumming with his Cathy for the first time, covering his fifty-inch chest with a prodigious load of his fiery man-juice, whispering, "Yes, Cathy, you're such a good girl." Steven's words were so powerful, so eloquent. He called them filthy scribblings, but in his words she saw a modern day Kama Sutra. He would laugh at that, perhaps through modesty, but it was the truth. Maybe not fit for every woman, but his words had moved her so deeply, she wouldn't deny herself this man. So she prepared well for the night, bidding his requests for certain items of clothing down to the finest detail, she was so good at that. Save one, she wanted to wear her signature scent. Beautiful by Estee Lauder lightly sprayed on her body always made her feel so sexy. Perhaps she should have complied, allowed him to choose, but it was her only request and he had obliged her. He could be so liberal at times, surprising her by granting nominal wishes. She loved him for that, as well as so many others things. She had spent the entire day preparing her visage for his delight. His penchant for delicate female things, hose, heels, well manicured nails, her hair, which he loved, was a vision of perfection. Cathy was not a sophisticated woman in her outer presentation. She found herself not to be of exceptional beauty or possessing the desire to engage in the usual tinkering of her facial features or body. A self-proclaimed low-maintenance woman. But she was real. Strong in body and mind and opinion. She didn't waste her days in vanity, but instead invested her attention and time in creating character. Steven had only seen her in one photo, taken years ago, and she had changed quite a bit since then. Her hair was much longer, she was thinner, and he had probably wondered if she always carried a cowboy hat. It was a prop in her picture, a sign of a wild, untamed spirit. But he would tame her, like no other man before. On this night, she would present him with a debonair woman. She wanted him to become enamored by her appearance as well as her acquiescence. Attempting to drive had proven to be a challenge for Cathy since her initial encounter with Steven. In her van, away from the demands and bustling of her home, her mind always wandered to him and the things that he had written her. This long distance drive was giving her hours to immerse in the anticipation of what would come this night. She found herself coarsely pulling on her enlarged nipples as she drove, sending a sting through her body into her swollen clit. The cream of her cunt gushing through her hole which made her shiver. She thought about him, this magnificent man who had allowed her to be in her van making this journey. She had learned through his writings that he enjoyed a shaven scrotum, which would make her feast of him even more delectable. She saw herself kneeled on a floor, his cock, inches from her hungry mouth, pulsating with lust for her. The scent of his meat wafting through her nose, savoring every moment that he allowed her to be here. When he said the word, "suck", she would take his shaft into her mouth, lips and tongue and do what she was born to do, please Steven. Intermittently running her tongue down to his balls, gently suckling, licking. Returning to his cock, pushing it all the way down her throat. His face and words indicating that he was pleased. She would do this throughout the many hours of this oncoming night and the anticipation of this event would be the death of her. She sped up to rush to her love. He allowed her small victories. She wanted to wear her favorite cologne, Beautiful, and he had allowed it. Though he preferred the raw sexuality of Obsession, he was familiar with her scent and thought it would fit her best. It was an aroma of innocence and wonderment with an undercurrent of dark eroticism. Perfect for his Cathy, the pillar of the community and his slut. Maybe that was part of his attraction for her. He was a man who knew things like the various scents women liked to wear. He knew her husband had no idea of such things. But Steven knew women, it was his life's work. He preferred their company and though he had male acquaintances, he had only female friends. Cathy would be arriving at the hotel soon and he needed to dress. He admired his body in the mirror. At 48 he appeared much younger, the years of weight training managing to keep father time somewhat at bay. He had just freshly shaved his fifty-inch chest and he cradled his also just shaved scrotum, feeling it's comforting heft as he examined his penis. It wasn't overly large but big enough and women had felt a need to comment on its proportions and attractiveness. As he examined himself he found his cock gently filling with blood, the veins running along its length starting to pulse. The thought of Cathy, in her mini van, dressed like a very expensive whore, driving to his hotel was so arousing. He gently pumped his manhood watching the big head turn purple with lust and smiled at himself in the mirror. This would become the focus of Cathy's existence for the next few hours. This cock. And her love for him would be his reward. Cathy was not given to anal sex and the butt plug that had occupied her rectum since Steven asked for its insertion had served as a preparation for his cock. She knew this and had religiously worn it as she did now. It sent shivers through her, waves of delight like she had not ever experienced. Her husband, like so many other men, longed for this gift. A woman's ass. An exceptionally tight, puckered hole and the object of fascination for her husband. She would only oblige him from time to time, but she found herself anxious to give this to Steven. She sensed that she would like everything that he did to her. She adjusted her skirt as she stepped out of her van, having hiked it up to reach in between her legs periodically throughout her trip. She wore a tight black skirt, something she had always found to be inviting. Not leather, as some may envision, but nylon. It clung to her ass like a hand. The thin black stockings shaped her muscular calves, which were defined even more than usual. The heels that she wore were unequivocally the highest she had ever worn. But they forced her to stand straight and erect, to think of each step so as not to fall. She knew why he had requested these from his many writings. She had studied them and learned that they provided him the physical control, keeping a woman reliant on him for her every move. Her white silk blouse was unbuttoned shamefully low. Well, shameful for Cathy. Her breasts pushed high and separated in her bra to form the perfect tunnel for his cock to travel through. Her nipples, hard and swollen at the thought of where she was and the commencement she would experience in a short time. She wore large gold hoops and dramatic make-up. She was a vision of her soul. Her longing to look and conduct herself as a whore. And she turned quite a few heads as she waltzed into the lobby, to her Steven, her master. As he pulled his black Lord &Taylor briefs over his big thighs Steven smiled thinking of Cathy in her carpool mini van, the butt plug he had had her order firmly affixed in her sphincter. She was so awash now with her repressed sexuality that with his masterful prodding it burst forth from her in a torrent, like a river, swollen by days of rain, behind a weakened dam. A whore. A woman. He adjusted his "package" in his underwear and then reached into the closet for the woolen pants of his black double-breasted Armani suit. She had written that she loved him, though he doubted this, why they had never even breathed the same air. No, she loved the idea of him and the idea of her that he had given her, Cathy the slut. End of Part One ------- ASSM Moderation System Notice-------- This post has been reformatted by the ASSM Moderation Team due to inadequate formatting. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at Hosted by | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+