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Filthy Kate

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I'm OK if I sit still. I get used to the sharp points as they settle into my skin but moving makes them scrape and chafe my pink bits and that hurts. As a punishment the tack pad pretty much immobilises me. The more I move the worse the chafing becomes. Do you want the pins to pierce my rose? Would you order me to keep my hands behind my back, that is if you let me struggle out of my handcuffs, then reach down between my legs as I sit here spread and push the tack pad hard against me? Do you really hope whatever happens next takes me by surprise with unimagined cruelty?

I am controlled and humiliated. I'm telling you this because going that makes me feel like the whore I really am, you want me humiliated don't you? I know you do.

Yes my nipples are hard, I'm cold but yes, I'm expecting to suffer and the idea thrills me. My tormentor will continue to make me suffer, I know that too.

You'd love me to offer you my rose as I've offered it to him wouldn't you? She makes me need, she makes me ache, she makes me helpless!
 
He forced me to come, WooHoo!!!! I crawled and pleaded and begged for it. He likes me to do that. I feel chilled and mellow now and stressless although I'm still under clothing restrictions. I'm allowed a T shirt and knickers for the rest of the day or until further notice. He wanted me to enjoy my orgasm because I'm denied again now, it could be my last for a while.

He was 8 minutes late with his reply to my pleading though and he's busy so I'm still not sure if I have to do the table top display. If he says I do, then I do, later, I still owe him that.

I'm going to go have a bath now and chill for a while. He let me off the hook you wanted me on didn't he? Well yes, this time!

I'm a filthy, obedient slut and a whore and my only purpose on earth is to be debased and humiliated? Oh that's so true!
 
My fur is also a pain in the chuff, literally, when I have to shock myself electrically. The current can pass down individual pubic hairs if I don't get a good contact, burning the hair follicle. This can happen at any time if I move and disturb the electrodes. It's like being branded with a red hot needle. You'd love it!

I try not to thrash or scream. I try to remain composed and suffer in "quiet desperation" as the song goes. I growl through gritted teeth, white knuckled and bowstring tense, breathing my way through the pain. I hope I don't have to suffer it worse than that, I'm really doing this you know!

The Tens electrodes are stick on pads. To get technical for a moment (!!!) I peel my labia apart, hold them open and place one pad over the opening of my vulva, not in it. My labia are sensitive and the nerves are the right sort to feel the tingle I love. Nerves are a thing. Different skin types have different nerves. For this reason the other pad goes over my hood so it conducts through my clit underneath it. It doesn't fit easily so I have to let it warm up and mould itself round my contours. Tight knickers are good here, anything which would otherwise camel toe me. Clit skin has the wrong nerves. A shock right on it is murderous. It's not like the tingles I get elsewhere, it's like being kicked hard. I have to watch that!
 
missed your earlier message. I've just finished a two and a half hour phone call, family stuff. We're separated by the lockdown.

Would I stand in front of the piano, in that space on the end of the window, visible from your garden? Then you could reach out with your left hand and tug my chain or slip your fingers into my rose whenever you thought I needed that. Would I stand there whenever you worked, constantly available as a pleasant distraction from the stress of your professional life. Would I fear trouble, an awkward customer, unreliable suppliers, difficulties with glitchy software? Would I be expected to foil your frustrations? Would you like to take them out on me, discipline me when your real irritations were beyond reach?

I'd take that. I'd watch your temper fray and you reach for the instrument with which you'd punish me on their behalf. I'm for this, I'm for anything you want. I stand waiting, willing and the whore you need me to be. I am a whore, a total slut, I exist to be used and humiliated, I want that. Yes tell me, please.

I'll smell like you want me to smell. My tormentor washes me. I wait in the bathroom, hands behind my back, feet apart, until he finds the time to clean me. I'm soaped up and slippery and allow him his fun with me, my genitals are his of course, to be gentle with, or not. Would you do this or would you hose me down in the garden, a further humiliation I must suffer? Would I kneel, arse up, head on the ground while you blast my whore's rose clean?

I'm not educated, I don't have a job. My life isn't like that.
 
OK, My toy box..........

The Tens machine you know of but I also have an Aertertek AT 219 dog training collar which has 7 power levels and delivers pair of pulses spaced close together through two metal pins 30cm apart. The shock unit itself is the size of a matchbox and does not need to be mounted on the collar, it can be detached and used anywhere on my body. The remote control transmitter has a range of 500m. Using these electrical punishments on me is a big subject.

My tack pad you know about too. This is a piece of neoprene rubber shaped to fit between my legs. It has 20 drawing pins glued through it which protrude 7mm. These irritate my rose causing mild to severe discomfort depending on which knickers I wear it in or my tormentor's instructions.

I also own a thong with drawing pins glued through that in order to inflict pain on me along the whole length of my crotch. I find wearing this desperately difficult.

I have several home made electrodes in the form of probes to transmit current from either the Tens or the shock collar to the soft parts of my body.

The handcuffs you know of.

I have a 2m length chain with 10x7mm links and various padlocks. Duct tape, cable ties and all manner of simple household items reinvented as sex toys,

When lockdown allows I'm going to buy some belts because I need to make myself some sort of chastity device to enable my sex organs to be locked away from me.

There are also various bits and pieces I use as textures to tease myself with. I just like the feel of them.
 
I too love my shock collar for its remote control. The range is good enough for my tormentor to be out of sight, meaning I have absolutely no idea when the next shock is coming or how powerful it will be. The shock is one in both senses of the word, so even a mild shock catching me unaware, will make me jump simply from the surprise. The thing with electricity is you get used to it quickly as it numbs your (my) nerves. For that reason the first pulse is always the worst. At high power I can be made to yelp and squeal, unable to be prepared at all.

Of course my chain, being stainless steel can also be used as an electrode. Like this it shocks me where it touches me. If you wrap it round my neck or feed it between my legs it can contact me anywhere. This too is unpredictable and the threat of being shocked like this ensures my flawless and instant obedience!

Yes I do have pictures of the pad and the thong and yes I would wear the thong for you but not yet. If ever I lose my current tormentor it will be at your disposal as my punishment!
 
The thong has lost a couple of pins which I'll need to replace. The trouble with it was the cord between my arse cheeks tended to roll over so the pins poked me sideways but they were still effective in pretty much crippling me. Its quite a tight thong and the pressure on the pins is harsh. I can't sit down comfortably and walking has to be very slow and careful. This is a good punishment for me as opposed to the tack pad which I can wear as penance.
 
Yes they are painful, the point (Ha Ha) exactly. Plan A for the chastity belt is to use one round my waist normally and cut another in half. The cut end of each half would be folded over into a loop so the waist belt went through it. I could either stitch, glue or rivet the loops. I'm favouring rivets. The means the buckle would be on one half and the tail on the other and they'd strap together between my legs. The sweet part of this plan is the crotch strap would be adjustable for tightness.

Should I go wide or narrow for the crotch strap? Obviously narrow would crush my sex organs, or split them when tight but wide would force me to keep my legs spread to some degree. I could drill a padlock hole anywhere to prevent me undoing the crotch strap buckle. Wide is obviously better for retaining torture devices, in my rose?

No news yet on my erotic adventures for this evening except that I already know I will not come.

You would cause me pain and anguish, I'm already frightened of you, knowing how much you want to torture and humiliate me. I feel like I'm feeding the animals!

I can also visualise the consequences of offering you control of my sex life. I would stand by your desk!
 
Would there be a sort of daily discomfort placed on your desk so that when I took up my position in the morning I'd notice it? I'd dread what you might want to torture my poor cunt with that day. I wouldn't try to remove it. I am for your gratification. I'd put up with it for as long as you wanted me to suffer.
 
Really? You've dreamt of torturing girls sexually with stinging nettles? Oh I'd offer you my rose willingly! I was ordered to go for a ride out on my bicycle at night in just my knickers and my task was to reach a point around 3 or 4 miles from home and then pack my underwear with stinging nettles. I had to ride home like that. I'm going to find you a story now posted on DA. Back in a minute.............
 
Yes that was the point. Here's the little story. Emily was my on line playmate, we tortured each other..................

I’m going to admit Emily made me thrash myself with stinging nettles. My challenge was to ride my bicycle out to a wood about four miles away where I had to pack my knickers with handfuls of them. Then I had to ride home without standing on the pedals so the bicycle seat would force the leaves into me, poisoning the softest, most vulnerable parts of my sex organs with a thousand stings.

As her whore I knew my genitals were hers to please herself with and she told me if the pain began to wear off I had to stop, find more nettles and repack my knickers with fresh leaves, to pump as much sting into my (her whore’s) c--t as possible. I did that twice.

When I got home I emailed her to tell her that although the agony had almost made me cry, it hadn’t been quite as severe as we expected.

“Honestly whore, do you feel you’ve been punished enough?” she asked. “No Emily, I don’t.” I said, obliged by my responsibility to our game to tell the truth. She made me go out again but this time I had to hold her (my) whore’s c--t open with the fingers of my left hand and thrash it with bundles of nettles with my right. It was important she said, that I held my hood back to expose my clit to the full force of the blows, hoping the impact would fill her (my clit's) skin with enough sting poison to cripple me in agony. Emily's intention was not simply that, she wanted to fuck up my sex life for as long as she could.

As soon as the first lash hit me I knew she’d be pleased. It didn’t feel like stinging, it felt like a heavy blow, like someone had kicked me. I had to grit my teeth, tried to breathe through the pain and sank to my knees, unable to believe anything could hurt that much. It took maybe a couple of minutes to settle down and make me realise I could take more. I knew Emily would want that.

I needed to report that I’d been faithful to the game, goodness knows what she’d have asked of me if she hadn’t been satisfied my punishment was adequate.

Through my hands she whipped her whore raw. I was so intoxicated with sex I wanted it, badly.

Regret I’d save for later.
 
Pierce my clit! No, that's too much. That's a boundary. Poisoning Her with nettles strings is fine, it's only pain and it'll wear off but wounding Her is further than I'd want to go. Is that OK?

I don't know yet. That depends on my responsibilities as a kinky slut!

More torture in other ways? Are we negotiating? If I can't take one way, I owe you an alternative?

I'm going to bed too. Good night, Kate XX
 
Good morning,

Are you working at your desk? I'm standing beside it, where you want me in my place as the occasional distraction from your work you enjoy. I'm wearing a light, short shift through which my breasts are obvious and small white knickers. My dark bush is obvious too. My feet are held apart by my spreader bar and my wrists are locked behind by back in handcuffs. I cannot walk away unless you unlock me or defend the front of my body. I have no wish to. It is unsaid that my rose is yours. My purpose, as always, is to make it available to you.

Whore's rose Kate XX
 
I see the cane and the whip on your desk. You don't mention them, you don't need to because I know I'll feel them if the mood takes you. I try not to breathe heavily at the thought of that and always try to remain calm, at lest outwardly. It's a thing between us, a little game we play within my submission. I know you enjoy breaking me, making me squeal and yelp from the pain I try to deny.

Would I ride a pony if I could? You ask me while you're pushing my knickers into my rose, manipulating me both physically and emotionally. I think about how the pony might crush Her and I feel her respond. "No." I answer, I would not ride, but you'll feel her too, through the soaked fabric of my useless underwear and I know you'll feel her betray me. "Yes." she'll tell you, I would ride!

Gag me please. Cut my knickers off, pack them into my mouth then tape them in. Please, please, please gag me. Make my taste myself, make me suck myself off my dirty knickers, make me feel like the filthy whore I am. I want to, please, gag me!
 
Why did you cane me? Did I make a mistake, should I not have asked to be gagged or did you know I need punishment to remind me how terrible the consequences of making a mistake will be? Am I such a filthy, insatiable whore that my lust for punishment is so obvious?

My god you make me feel such an animal! My mouth is packed with me, I can taste nothing else or escape it. You want to keep how I smell? Oh that's perverse. Will your friends see me, maybe not as I am now but in your house? Will I be hidden in plain sight, introduced as your maid perhaps? I'll keep quiet of course, speak when I'm spoken to and avoid any awkward questions. Will you test me? Will you destroy my brief moments of normality by humiliating me in front of them. "The filthy whore stinks!" you'll joke. They'll laugh but we both know you have that silk scarfe, the one you pushed up my rose for me to soak. We both know you could offer it to them and my degradation would be perfect. "Wanna know what she smells like when she's dripping in sex?" Shame is too small a word for how I'd feel then.

Whores usually do? Am I simply the latest of them, those girls you reduced to sluts, those whose minds you twisted into willingly allowing you to torture their cunts. Two days I've suffered this, that's all. Two days ago I engaged in these conversations thinking I'd have some kinky fun and of course I have. But I didn't think I'd be gagged with my own dirty knickers, handcuffed, spread, caned, publicly stinking of sex and needing you to torture my rose.

Do you want me to write that? Please, please, torture my cunt! You know how far you can go, you know I'm helpless. Oh fucking hell I feel so fucking filthy I'm going to have to stop writing. I can't come! Fuck, fuck, fuck I'm denied!!!

This is nuts!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 
I can't come like an animal, I can't come at all. I've given him control of my sex life and I come when he wants and only then. I did that maybe three weeks ago because he kept taunting and teasing me. He made me want it so much I told him "OK, I'll submit." knowing that once I had I'd be committed until he let me go. We're talking hypothetically here about if my cunt was yours and the awful things you'd do to me, and how willingly I would accept them. We're doing that because I am such a filthy whore, I love it and I can't help myself. Yes, I want to give you my rose so you can torture it.

I can't torture it either. I sent my tormentor those pictures of my tacked thong and he makes me wear my tack pad everyday. I have already this morning, I alway do, I've been told to. I can't use my toys, only he can. If I feel filthy all I can do is wait and hope he'll want my rose in pain. You're right, I cannot ask to be punished or for explanations why I am. I only deserve the pain inflicted on me. I don't deserve to know the reasons why.

I didn't know I'd be writing like this, opening myself, leaving myself so bare and vulnerable. Oh I would give you my rose and beg for however you would use it, if it were mine to give. My god the thought of it!

Seriously though, have you ever been aroused for days? I go to bed sometimes with instructions to touch but not to come and I wake up the next morning, log on line and I'm kept hanging in filthy sex all day with no release, day after day. I'm off my head with it, intoxicated and useless. I feel like that now. It's a beautiful, exquisite stress. I'm so tense I'm shaking, my breathing's laboured, my chest is tight and I can't rest or concentrate on anything else. I know I'd feel fine in an instant if I could come, but I can't. Do you want to make me feel worse (better)? "You filthy whore Kate, you dirty slut, you deserve the tortured cunt you offered so easily!"

Oh no, I'm going to have to stop again. I'm sorry. Oh god what on earth do you really think of me?
 
Real life Kate role play here now. I really do this and the whole thrill depends on integrity. If I cheat, even once, I've fucked it up so I have to be faithful to the game for myself. The idea that I could come anyway and lie or keep quiet about it feels horrible. If I did that what would my tormentor have control over? I'd feel terrible as if I'd let myself down.

If I don't cheat this happens.............. I know I'm going to feel desperate at some point and the idea that someone can control me so completely that I'll suffer it willingly makes me melt. Sometimes the power in such a thought has me gasping for breath because I'm that exhilarated by it. To feel threatened the threat has to be real. I've been role playing with a succession of playmates for years now and in the past I have been tempted to cheat, or played with people who did and it's obvious. If you know, if you do this stuff, you can tell when it isn't real.

In between playmates I tried to involve my boyfriend thinking I might be able to train him up. I tested him by sending him an email asking him if I could have permission to come. I thought I'd try offering control of my sex life to him. He knows I'm kinky, he knows I have a solo sex life, he's OK with that. He sent back "Yeah if you like." I wondered why I bothered. Later that day when we were together he asked me if I did come with a smirk, thinking I'd had a good time. I told him "No, you gave me the wrong answer." I could see his brain gears creaking round as he tried to work it out!

He would never understand that I feel controlled most at my most desperate, that the temptation to cheat sometimes tests me to breaking point but I know the game only works because I can resist, I have to, I've been told to. Obedience is everything. My tormentor does allow me to come, or rather he forces me to, when he wants. There are times when I don't feel like it and I have to get my imagination in gear and concentrate like hell. The strange thing is, when I do feel like it and I think about how I might be forced to come, I want to worse, but can't of course.

I can't send you a picture of my rose. Although my boyfriend knows I'm kinky, he doesn't know I play on line. I don't feel guilty about it and I protect myself by believing that my anonymity is secure. I get asked for pictures of myself all the time, sometimes that's all some people want but I can't oblige because the internet has monsters and although I might trust whoever I sent a picture to, I can't be sure of who they trust or how secure their software is. Once it's out there, it's out there on it's own. Pictures of my tacks are risky enough but at least I can destroy the evidence!

Once, something did come back to bite me. I got caught and for a few months I thought I'd fucked my life up. The negotiations within our relationship were so delicate and the diplomacy so tentative I was almost too scared to say anything at all. Obviously I haven't kept my promises and if I get caught again I'm screwed, or rather I'm not, for ages! I know a lot about discretion.

Well that's calmed me down a bit!
 
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