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Filthy Kate

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KurvyKate

KurvyKate

Magistrate
I'm not sure about this. I want to do it but I'm worried it might be a bit odd, yes even for CF! You see I suffer from this fantasy in which I'm shared by my tormentor with whoever cares and I always fancied the idea of posting my thoughts in public, so anyone could comment on them. I love these threads and the opportunity for talking dirty that they are. My posts here will be bits and pieces of a private conversation which is basically role playing in writing. I'm not at liberty to act out role plays but I can write whatever Ii like, to whoever I like. No you can't know who my friend is, which means you only get my half of our correspondence. Hopefully it'll still be interesting even if it's a little confusing!

Kate XX
 
Please, please, please can I ask permission to post some of my messages to you on CF in public? I promise I won't tell anyone who they were to, I'll just say I felt so dirty and depraved I want to share how I played the whore. I thought they'd make an interesting slut's diary!

"Please?" She says, pleading, begging, crawling..................

Filthy Kate XX
 
It was early in the morning and I had a busy day ahead, so I just thought I'd bring the subject up to see what you thought. You want me to pay for permission to post my own messages in public?

OK then, I'm going to take a stool, my handcuffs and a tube of that deep heat muscle cream into your cellar, with the hook? I remember that's where it is. I'll put the stool under the hook, stand on it then handcuff myself so I can hang on the hook my by wrists but not get off, then I'll kick the stool away so I'm helpless.

Please strip me. Please pull my jeans and my knickers off. Please, I'm begging you to cut my top open and slice through my bra. Then please open the muscle cream, squeeze a good handful of it out then smear it all over my tits. Work it into my nipples please and when I'm squealing in pain, massage another handful deep into my filthy wet rose. Burn her with it, make me suffer the agony in order to earn permission to post my messages. I want permission, please hurt me. I want you to see how much I'm willing to take.

You can flog me if you like. Do I deserve I be thrashed? Please?

Filthy whore Kate XX
 
Yes please thrash me. Is there any way you can tie my legs spread? I don't want to succumb to the reflex of trying to defend by rose from the sting of the flogger. I want permission so much I want you to be able to thrash me upwards with a clear target. I want the tails of the flogger ripping into the soft flesh inside my labia and even into the opening of my dirty, deserving whore’s rose. I want my clit whipped. I want her stung hard. I want the ends of the flogger tails smashing into her. Cry out? I'll howl, I'll squeal like a stuck pig!

Tape my labia open please. Do you have Gorilla Tape, the stuff with the moisture activated glue? I gagged myself with it once and it set like concrete on my face. Fuck I'm stupid! Use Gorilla Tape so I can't walk. Humiliate me this way please.
 
As each stroke of the flogger lashes into my defenceless, open rose it feels ever more razor sharp. Ten strokes is enough to make me scream, to make pray permission comes before I'm ripped to ribbons. They feel like hammer blows against my clit, offered and hopelessly vulnerable. I'm gasping breath, my teeth clenched, my fingernails dug deep into my palms as the flail tears at my rose.

The tape is merciless too. The flail strikes that, the impact heaving on my spread labia and the sensitive skin inside my thighs. This feels like it's shredding me, ruining my genitals. Is his my last act as a whore? What will I be fit for after this?

I'm forced against the rough bark of the tree I'm tied spread out to by the force of the blows thumping into my crotch, its tears the skin on my back too.

Please, how many strokes will I take? I'm willing, I'm screaming, I'm wailing my distress but I won't beg for mercy, I need permission, please help me, grant me permission please?
 
Thank you, thank you, thank you! Yes of course anonymity is assured, I'll only post my messages and no one will know who they were to.

When you untie me from the tree I'll kneel at your feet with my arms crossed behind my back and my head lowered. I'll kneel with my thighs spread, my poor stinging rose on fire between them, grateful to you for the abuse you inflicted on her.

Thankful Kate XX

I have to go to bed now, I'm knackered. Good night my merciful torturer.
 
The above messages were how much permission cost me. The following messages are what I needed permission for, to post them that is. They're in chronological order. As I said at the top, they're only half a conversation so if anything intrigues you, just ask. Here we go then...............

I'm on here because I want to air my fantasies. It brings them to life just by telling someone don't you think? I want to write what thrills me in stories which I'll post here. On DA I found I was inspired by other people's reactions to my stories and I'd often write with people, as in further stories about the role playing we became involved in. If you want to read any I'm KurvyKate on DA as well.

There have been several people who've been interested enough to dominate me on line in the past although I don't like that word. What usually happens is we play games which depend to a certain extent on my luck to avoid perils and punishments. Sometimes I can't of course! These games form an ever present undercurrent to my daily life. For example, my current "tormentor" as I'll call him is too busy to play with me so I have to wear what we call my tack pad in my knickers for an hour every day. This is like a cilice in that it causes me discomfort as penance in the same way it would in the religious sense. It keeps me in my place because I do it for him.

It's the idea of his control over me which turns me on. It started because he wanted me to give him control of my sex life. He taunted and teased me with what he would ask of me and made me so hot I was helpless, I had to tell him "OK I'll submit!"

Enough for one message? Ask what you like.
 
DA is primarily for pictorial art but there are many writers too. You can't see my stories unless you log on because of the site's mature filter, thank goodness. There are so many DA people on here that I thought it might be common knowledge, perhaps not then. I'll post some of them here maybe. I think I've figured that out, "attach files" right?

Yes that's usually how control over me happens. I'm given instructions to follow and threatened with punishment for failure. The games evolve in conversation so that we figure out how to play them within the constraints of our real lives. For example I'm left alone in the house for days at a time which is a perfect playing opportunity. I am now which is why I can scribble away in peace.

Usually I write up the experience for my tormentor to enjoy, just as you say. It's important that I never cheat because once I have it destroys the credibility of the game. I can't be thrilled by an empty threat of course, so they have to be real. I had to divulge the contents of my toy box and make then available to my tormentor for example.
 
My current tormentor allows me to talk to anyone I like, so I do. If it's OK with you I'd like to chat about how your control over me would be and how you'd enjoy it, how our lives would affect it's timing and the sort of discomforts you could inflict on me. I'm a bit knackered now so I'll list the contents of my toy box later. I'll follow you so I can find you again.

Yes we'll explore! It could indeed by very interesting.

The thought of another's control over me always makes it hard to sleep. I'm denied orgasm, I must not come. He wants me needing!

I absolutely will not come, I promise. I'll lay there aching, desperate to touch knowing that of I do I might go too far and I can't afford to risk it. I know that I'll feel empty and disappointed if I let temptation get the better of me. I'm so used to denial now that I feel guilty even if I have permission! The paradox is that nothing makes me want to come worse than "Don't you fuckin' dare!"
 
I won't be able to type at 7.15am I'll be handcuffed. My instructions for tomorrow are wear a pair of old knickers and nothing else. I must handcuff my wrists behind my back then spend at least an hour polishing all the surfaces of the furniture I can get at with the fabric of my underwear making sure I use the crotch and the front to stimulate Her. After this I must put my tack pad, which is a pad penetrated with drawing pins which my underwear forces into my rose, in my knickers and fix my ankles to my spreader bar. I must email him then to beg for permission to come.

If I don't get it within 1 hour I have to strip naked and spend 15 minutes on all fours on display on my dinning room table. If I haven't been contacted by then I can put my knickers back on but that's all I'm allowed. I've sent a message pleading for more clothes, begging in fact!

If I have any sexual thoughts during the night I'm going to be lying awake on fire until fucking morning! Oh god.

If I do get permission to come it'll be a forced orgasm with my Tens machine which will ruin it.

OK, I know to need to explain some of that, I will, tomorrow
 
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I got my instructions about an hour ago and I'm still reeling from the shock. He does this. I think I'm getting away with it then there's a message in my in box and I think "Oh no, what now?" I'll report, I'll tell you how I got on.

I'll start polishing as soon as I can when I wake up so it'll be 6 to 6.30am, or maybe 7. I want to get it all done as early as possible before anyone is likely to disturb me.

I'm 5'6" tall, I have long dark hair and hazel eyes. I'm pair shaped with sturdy hips and thighs but I still have tits which need a bra. My nipples are quite big with areola. My rose is fully bushed and that's dark too but my labia don't protrude much. Even when I'm aroused I need to pull my hood back to expose my clit. I can't trim my bush because my boyfriend likes it, because it's dark it shows through my underwear if I wear anything skimpy.

Yes I always sleep naked.
 
I slept hardly at all. I went to bed knackered, late on purpose because I'm managing my ordeal within the parameters allowed me. Tired I'd be less likely to come and more likely to fall asleep when I had to stop touching, I knew I'd be hot.

My hands were his and I imagined he put me to bed but not for my sake, for his. I lay in the open and spread my legs to offer him my genitals to manipulate for the required half hour that I had to stroke myself. He kept me awake, he kept me close to orgasm. I had to touch lightly but sometimes that's worse! If I pleaded with him to stop, unable to fight off the orgasm I knew I'd suffer, would he? Or would he make me come knowing I could not in an act of malice, just to see me punished for it?

Sometimes during that half hour I felt so ready, it would have been easy for him.

In a few minutes I'm going to handcuff myself. I'm already stripped to my knickers with which I'm going to polish the furniture. I'll message him in over an hour or so to beg him to force me to come. I don't need to tell you my heart is pounding away at the thought of that!

Good morning by the way, it is here. Kate XX
 
I polished the bed posts, the dining room table and I even sat on the floor to polish the legs. The backs of the dining room chairs were nice and the corners of the kitchen worktops were lovely. I wasn't really tall enough so I had to stand on tip toe to get my crotch onto the top. That meant scraping the Her down corner to get back on the floor, several times! I've rubbed my knickers all the way round the top of the bath and even had a go at a couple of window sill edges.

My knickers are black, low hip cut, simple pants and yes they're a bit dusty now. Actually polishing the furniture wasn't particularly erotic, not like thinking about being made to do it was last night! That's always how it is. When I first open my instructions and see what he wants me to do it makes me gasp in shock and if it's bad I think "Holy Fuck no!" I love that moment so much. I love the fear of wanting to know what I'm in for while still being scared to look. If he'd been here, watching me degrade myself for him, the erotic power of that would have been intense. At one point I had one leg up on the dining table so I could slide my crotch along the edge, grinding Her onto it. I'll tell him I did it, he'll like that.

I now have my tack pad in my knickers with its pins pushed into my rose and my ankles tied to my spreader bar. I'm sitting on the edge of my chair because I can't put any weight on the tacks. I'm imagining he can see me, spread for hm, offering myself for him to look at and know how uncomfortable I am. I'll tell him that too. I've sent him a message pleading with him to make me come. He has control of my sex life, meaning my sex organs are no longer mine, they're his, for his gratification only. I come only when and if he wants.

He offered me a choice of tortures. I have two electrical devices, a Tens machine and an electric shock dog training collar. I've chosen the Tens because the pulses it delivers are powerful and grip me so deep they force me to orgasm reliably. But, to enjoy my orgasm I need to peel the electrode pads off and rub myself off in the way I like to. If I keep the power on the distraction will ruin my orgasm, the shocks numb me and I won't feel it properly. He might make me come but ruin it, so he enjoys it and I don't. How cruel is that? Never mind polishing work top corners, I'm dripping at the thought of how compliant and obedient I will be.

I've made my choice but how I come is ultimately his decision. Last night he sent..............

"You cannot come whenever you like... just after you choose if it'll be with the Tens or the shock unit.

Then I'll confirm and write you a script on how to come... or may be I'll choose the opposite of what you choose... or find a third way... or just tell you that I changed my mind and you're not allowed to come anymore... who knows...

And be fully naked down there while on the table, if that would happen... no knickers."

I have no reply yet. I know he's busy but he might simply ignore me to put me on display naked. Before it happens, the dread is making my heart thump and my mouth dry. I'm shaking and not just because I'm cold for being near naked already.

I struggled to get the handcuffs off by the way. The key is tiny and it fits in a little slot I can't find easily. I always suffer a moment of panic and have to think "OK Kate, you've done this before, calm down, relax............"
 
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