Break me - Part 1 ...

Break me - Part 1 ...A BDSM Story.Who dominates who?Who is the slave, and who is the Master?Who leads the game? And who endures it?A journey through the slippery, treacherous and perverse world of BDSM, through a believable novel.The good, the bad, the clever...- Here, bitch, lick, lick it! ?She was drooling: she was suffering and yelping, but she couldn't follow the order.She kept pulling at the chain with her neck, but try as she may, she couldn't get closer than a few inches to my hard cock.- Whore! I bent down a little and spit in her mouth, she shivered.I was about to whip her but I looked at the time, it was almost eight.I moved closer, just enough to put my dick in her mouth, finally."Constipated" was a beautiful woman, she was really worth it! I would have made up an excuse with Marisa, but lying was useless, she would have known everything, if only she'd wanted to.The bitch was down on all fours, half naked, amazing, two incredible fake breasts and man, her ass. I had already though about her, but one hour was too short a time. Prepare her: tighten a belt, pull a chain, whip and slap, time just flies. Next time she would have to book two hours.I imagined being inside her tight little ass and for one moment I put all numbers aside, I helped myself with a quick jerking and came right into the mouth of "Constipated". She drank all of it, avidly. I caressed her head quickly:- Good, honey, you've been really good! - I untied her quickly, checked for whip marks on her butt cheeks.- Do I have any, love? ?- Are you k**ding? Three are going to last for at least a week... your husband is going to be enthusiast, you'll see. Oh, try and get the deer lined handcuffs, trust me, it's a game changer! -I left her the bag kit, with the raspberry lubricant that helps squirting and the fisting suit for her husband, the engineer. Then I cashed in the invoice, hurrying out. It was time to run home, I checked that nobody was following me... Marisa had already cooked the Naples bean soup for me. I was already delighted at the thought, tired as I was.***Sonia B. got back home with her heart beating fast. In church, she had shocked all friends, boggling them. She wouldn't have taken part in the usual thursday Buraco game, she "was busy"! As she closedthe door, she could still feel the jealous stares of those bigots. She smiled, she was radiant: Sonia really was busy!With a light kick, she pushed Minù out of the way badly, and the kitten was so irritated that its dismay was instantly picked up by the other eight cats of the house, which fled in terror.It was almost seven. She sat close to the phone to breathe, and calm down from all the excitement. She looked at the precious number carefully written down and, shivering, dialled it on the device.- Hello, Mater Obscura, is... is that you? I'm Cordelia66.- Oh honey, thank you for your call... but, please, call me Marisa! The woman was delighted: did that mean they were close?- I'm so happy; okay, well, then, I'm Sonia! Thank you so much, for allowing me to talk to you, dear... I've been hanging on Breakme for five years, but I've never felt this excited.- Dont' be like that please, I'm just like any of you, believe me! ? Marisa, Mater Obscura, told her, kindly. Sonia clenched her fists: "how humble" she thought to herself.- So, you could introduce me to that Master, well endowed, esteemed, intransigent, and most of all, safe?- Well, my darling, I can try, that I can do... would thursday 24 work for you, in two weeks?- Yes! - Sonia thundered, without hesitating one moment.***- You're a piece of shit!Marisa whispered in my ear, so as not awake Nicola, the third, who had established in our bedroom, his "dream kingdom" headquarters.- You were dying to do her, uh? Pig! ? Lying was no use. Normally, tired as I was, I would have hit her at least once, especially when (like tonight) she wore black stocking under her skin-tight vest. She had come to bed with no underwear, and that turned me on like nothing else, but my dick just wouldn't have it. I was too stressed out.- Honey, what you don't seem to understand is that sometimes you just can't hold back! - I told her, trying to be authoritative!- If one of them is seriously unsatisfied, and the voice spreads... the chain could break, you know it too... ? I woke from my numbness, and turned to her, as she was showing me her back, annoyed.- Honey, believe me, I don't want to complain... but I'm really tired. - I looked up at the ceiling - It's not like normal sex: with these people you need a lot of strength. Pull up the chains, hook, unhook... beat that guy, whip his wife... and I'm standing most of the time!- You're gonna pay for this dearly, believe me! Don't forget you've been unemployed for two years, honey. - Marisa replied, turning to face me: her face was terribly upset.How could I forget? Good grief, if it wasn't for her, who had majored in literary studies, we'd been screwed. And yes... Fetish, Masochist, Slaves, Mistresses... they were all very demanding! Extremely pernickety: most of them were cultured, or wealthy people from the bourgeois middle class, and they only wanted to deal with people of their "breed": you could break their asses, but only if you knew Proust or Kant.At dawn, Marisa woke up, and started "giving birth" to her usual prophecies on the site.She had done a great job; once she had understood the psyche of the followers, which was always the same, in a few months she had managed to manipulate her contacts, transforming them in loyal disciples. On one side were "the boys", a heterogeneous group: there were the cowards, the perverts, and the cuckolds. They wanted to be humiliated, and beaten badly.Then, there was the plethora of smart-arses, the usual, among the larger group, who visited all sites, with the only hope to find "free" pussy, and who were almost always more interested in saying than... doing. They made up most of the group and, to even just smell some female perfume, they would have done anything: forswear, get circumcised, spit and... even worse.Did you want them to be fetish? They masturbated on your shoes' pictures.Did you want them obedient? They bought stocking and suspenders right away, dressed up for you and, if you wanted, they were available to act as a footrest for you. All of them, had nurtured a sense of inadequacy to the real world and, hardly one of them would have been able to face a real, live, meet-up.The women on the site were more consistent. There were those who came by out of pure curiosity, they would arrive and leave in just a few weeks, they looked around, maybe even got aroused, but they were always "stationary", they could never take the further step to give voice to their fantasies. The "habitue", were mostly lone women (or separated at home), they savoured the all site, spent their lives there: they enjoyed the foul language, the ranting poetry, the fierce discussions, but they too were terrorized by the "blind" date. When similar opportunities came up, they dusted off all the most common bigot clichés, suddenly turning back to the bourgeois class they came from, conservatives, not far from a "cat lady" like attitude. Their motto was "With words, I'll fuck anyone", but in facts, they preferred their old vibrators: safe, reliable, and economic! Then the typical living room chat would start all over, philosophical crap, and general nothingness...Marisa had studied carefully all of these features, and then she started, precisely, ready to attack! She became Mater Obscura... and nothing was ever the same!With a few Euro we opened our own site, and adopted the "best Hotel" practice. In fact: the best Hotel is the one were one of your friends has already stayed in!Everyone loves talking, and striking the expert pose, however when the moment of truth comes, we all choose the safety of a friend's suggestion. Everyone would talk and chat on the site... but then? Who really had the courage to meet with a possibly dangerous stranger?Who really had the guts to have delivered at home, in a small town apartment, a package full of vibrators, Chinese balls, latex suits, or maybe a whip? There, that's when we came in.We hit one region at a time. At first we organized a nice dinner, to get to know each other, under the wing of Mater Obscura, who had provided for the total discretion ofthe rendezvous... true, the dinner costed about three times a normal one, but it was worth it.Once we had earned the trust of the "girls", subdued by her authoritative attitude, they were gladly subjugated by my clever wife, and she took advantage of their willingness to sell, at a high price, all the secrecy they needed.That's when I arrived, the precise and devote beater, discrete and refined, meticulous, above any suspicion. I went to their homes, with the best excuse to go by unnoticed. On the occasion of the "service", I also served the ladies and their friends their deliveries, all those goods they had ordered from the Sexy Shop.Usually our clients were so ugly I really carefully avoided having any particular relation with them. Aroused by the libido of masochism, they were already content of being pushed around, tied, handcuffed, and ruffled. The worst I had to do, with some older and fat ladies, was to put some huge dildo inside them, or giving them several destructive enemas. However, I do have to admit, when some nicer lady required my services, dressed up as gothic porn actress, I couldn't always resist my senses, and Marisa had time and again threatened me, but with no real consequences... after all, she knew I loved only her.