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Filthy Kate

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Will she make me hold my mouth open so she can suck my tongue out of my mouth and hurt me that way. I'm heterosexual, I don't fancy her as a lover but I fancy her like hell as a dominant. She's so confident, sure of herself and so easily in charge I feel completely swept away by her. I knew she was something special as soon as she sat down beside me on the bus, I felt I needed her to bully me, I wanted her to. Goodness knows why she would but it just happened and I was happy to let it.

She will make me do anything she wants but I don't think she wants anything cuddly. She's turning me on because I feel overwhelmed by her.

Can I go that way?


When we get to the hotel room, after she's humiliated me by leading me through reception on my chain, making me stand obediently while she checked in and pulled me up the stairs in front of the hotel porter, she explains what she wants me for.

She's pissed of with romance and the complicated, competitive gamesmanship involved in playing a lover in a delicately balanced relationship, and sex is never that good if you have to be "nice"is it? "I don't want to be." she says. You, are going to suffer what I want OK?" Having been dragged around on a chain I'm melting at this point. "As soon as I saw all the crap in your rucksack I thought oh yeah, she'll do!"

Then she says "Right then, get down on your knees.”


I feel the first blow thump into my crotch. She aims to smack my clit with the bridge of her foot. It hurts but nothing like it's going to. "Want it harder?" "Yes," "Really?" "Yes" Whack, this time it knocks me forward and I can't help grunt, trying to stifle what wound have been a squeal.

It's a throbbing ache and slow to subside. "Harder" How hard does she mean? "C'mon, harder? Tell me or I'll do it harder anyway." "No." "Don't you want me to fuck up your sex life?" "No". "Yes you do you whore!”

At this point I'm so panic stricken and so intoxicated with how completely I'm controlled I'm in a state of extreme confusion. "You don't deserve sex you filthy slut!" Thump, hard, and it hurts so much I'm holding my breath involuntarily. She tells me she wants my clit smashed flat against my pubic bone which is what will happen if I don't tell the truth.

"OK yes, harder!" Telling her that feels exquisite. It's like the ultimate offer, the ultimate control because she could, if she chose too, bruise me so badly she really would cripple my sex life for a long time. How big a gamble am I taking? I don't want her to do it, I want her to be able to, I even want to ask her to and depend only on her mercy to save me from it.

I'm wildly exhilarated by my own vulnerability and feel so precarious and helpless it's beautiful.


When we got to our room she made me stand in the doorway so anyone passing down the corridor could look at my arse. “You’re not coming in yet.” she laughed, I would have to earn that privilege. I watched her tip the contents of my rucksack onto one of the beds. That’s when she remembered my phone. “What’s your pass number?” she asked. When I gave it to her she told me I was too easy and punished me for that with a couple of seconds full power pulses to my already painful throat. “Please! I’m trying to behave like you want.” I cried. “You don’t know what I want yet.” she said, unlocking it.

I watched her scroll through my messages and find you, stinging from the injustice of being shocked for nothing. A beaming grin broke across her face as she read your text.

“Have her. She is your whore for the evening. Use her and ruin her. It will prepare her for tomorrow. She has lots of exciting toys, loves being humiliated, and she loves EVERY hole being used. No limits. And if you’re not doing anything tomorrow, come down here with her and enjoy the rest of what she has to endure. You and I could have a lot of fun with her.”

That’s why she’s here now, waiting for you to answer your door bell. That’s why I’m handcuffed, that’s why there’s a cable tie round my neck. It’s why my shock unit is tied to one of the belt loops of my little shorts and why it’s wired to my home made probes. I left the Hotel like this. She tortured me with those last night, she forced me to tell her the truth in a brutal “interrogation”. “You’re going to confess everything.” she said.

I’m not standing here with her, I’m standing here because of her, owned by her. This is how she achieved my submission……….

She spread all my toys out with a sweep of her hand and asked me which of “this crap” hurt most. You’re going to think this is so stupid but she’d treated me so badly on the way here that the demons between my legs had consumed my common sense and I admitted the little bolt, the “bum zapper” as she called it was one of the worst. “Why?” she asked.

I felt helplessly lost as I explained the slender bolt had little contact area, meaning that all the current passing through it would stimulate a small number of nerves severely rather than lots less so. “That’s fuckin’ technical innit?” she said, then asked me if I’d invented all my toys just to inflict pain on myself, as if she thought I was completely nuts. I had. “I knew this would be fun.” she said, lifting it off the bed by its wire, “Just as much fun as you’ll be!” Little contact with your arsehole? “Yes.” I admitted. She wanted to know how it worked and so, my voice husky from the damage she’d already inflicted on my throat, I told her, to save my neck from worse.

If she took the shock collar off my neck she could attach the clips on the probe's wires to its pins, then the unit would power the probes. “Probes?” as in more than one. Obviously I’d need to be part of a circuit. “Oh yeah,” she said, remembering the other little bolt. “Where does this one go?” she laughed, picking that up too. Was it funny because where it went was obvious? “Where do you put it?” “Really!” She said when I told her I put it my mouth. Impressed, she told me I could come into the room.

Apart from the two beds in the room the only other place to sit was a chair which she moved to face the available floor space. She stripped me naked, made me stand in front of the chair, sat down and said “Tell me what I need to know.”

At first I didn’t know what she meant and stared at her blankly. I thought she was going to have her fun with me, wasn’t she? “C’mon slut, try to keep up!” she laughed, “You put shit loads of work into this. You want someone to use it on you, don’t you? I know that’s where you’re going.” The she said “Are you going to just tell me or do you want me to make you, honestly?” I can’t believe I was so intoxicated by lust I said “Make me.” “OK then, tell me what I need to know.”

I told her that the first thing she should do was handcuff me, to prevent me being able to interfere with anything else she did. She got up, picked my cuffs off the bed and locked my wrists behind me. “Feel good?” I told her it did, profoundly so.

Then I advised her to strap the shock unit round one of my thighs with a cable tie which she did. I was so aroused by the thought of condemning myself I was wet enough for her to lube up my anal electrode between my legs and she slipped it up my arse easily. Watching someone else connecting my pink bits to a live shock unit is a breath taking thrill. “You’re shaking!” she observed, smiling at that. She put the other contact in my mouth, “We’ll start there.” she said.

“Anything else?” There was. I told her I’d like a cable tie round my neck and explained that it would be available to her as the ultimate punishment to threaten me with. The tie would only get tighter and could not be released without being cut off. Such a threat was so irresponsibly stupid, so scarily fucking dangerous, that it would ensure my instant and unquestioning obedience just by being there. “You want me to throttle you!” she cried. “No! Oh god no, please don’t,” I said, “I want you to be able to.” She smiled at me as if satisfied by that explanation of my wickedness. “You really are a filthy slut!” she said. I am.

She resumed her place on the chair close in front of me holding the shock unit’s transmitter, still fully clothed and free where I was trapped and naked. She kicked off her shoes and crossed her legs making it comfortable for her to tease my rose with her toes.

“Please start low, please, it hurts like hell, please!” I pleaded. She was so impressed with my submission to her she adjusted the power down, for now.


“Want to see what you look like?” You ask and put the computer’s camera image up on the screen. It’s not an angle I usually see myself from, not tied and tortured like this! I’m shocked, by my appearance I mean, not electrically although I will be soon. I look terrified.

She smiles at the camera so I can see her while she strokes my hair with her right hand, my Tens machine control box is in her left. “Aw, poor Kate’s going to get her cunt fried.” she says, in comically fake sympathy, adding “You’ll love it!” to you. Carrying on she tells you we did this last night, which we did, and then I suffered it beautifully, I was a joy to torment apparently.

While I watch my chest heaving, my tits riding my ribs as they rise and fall, and my thighs spread wide to display my open rose, she plugs the wires into the Tens unit. “Please start low, please?” I gasp, in between gulping air and trying to swallow the lump in my throat. “I think your boss wants a go.” she laughs, and hands you the control box.

“The bottom button turns it on, top middle turns it up.” she advises. Sweat’s running off me but I’m shaking so hard my teeth are chattering! I see you press the on button and brace myself, futile because there’s absolutely nothing I can do to help myself at all. I’m too sore, it’s going to hurt like fuck.

You look at her because nothing seems to be happening. She smiles and tells you it starts at zero, even though it’s on it’s not doing anything until you turn the power up to 1, which is displayed on the LED panel. So you click me up to 1 to start the current and I’m surprised by how much worse it hurts than it should, if it would have if I hadn’t already been subjected to hours of it last night, or ruthlessly mauled a few minutes ago.

I yelp, then again as the second pulse builds, then again. The Kate on the computer screen looks scared and uncomfortable. “There’s loads of modes but this is her favourite.” She helpfully announces.

I have a pad nestled in my rose, my little bolt probe is still up my arse and this is the challenge. She battered me badly last night. Each pulse gets worse and I feel it begin to burn.

“Please stop!” I cry but you don’t, for ten long, agonising seconds. “Please for fuck’s sake!” I wail. “It’s her arse.” she says, telling you I struggled to cope with that last night, that’s why she gave me such a hard time but I can’t help pleading. I’m tied too tight to move much, I can’t squirm away from the pain.

“Fuck! Don’t! please!” I cry but I only have enough breath left for single words. I’m in tears again.

The relief is instant as soon as you switch the power off but I’ve no time to relax before you switch it back on. The first pulse is always worse. All I can do is growl through teeth clamped tightly together. I feel my wrists twist in my handcuffs, my whole body tense. I shake my head meaning “Stop, I’m in trouble.” and you do.

“That was only level 1.” You tell me, as if I’m being something of a wimp for making so much fuss over it. If I’d had time I would have tried to explain that my sore tender skin is more susceptible to the shocks than normal and that my butt probe is too small to take the fierce power of the Tens, but I haven’t.

We go back to turning it on and off, to cripple me in agony with a succession of first pulses, each one forcing me to jump violently. This is hell! It feels like a red hot poker and soon I’m squealing like a tortured pig, tears streaming down my face. “I told you that would work.” she says. I look up at you as she says “Click her up a bit.”

After that I lose the capacity for rational thought. There’s enough power now to light up my labia. My rose feels like it’s ablaze and my arse feels branded. All I want now is to survive.

We enjoy turning the power on and off at this new level, whatever it is and I’m screaming, thrashing against the cable ties holding my ankles apart and shaking my head. She tries to hold me but I don’t notice, I’m nothing but intense, indescribable pain.

It felt like it lasted an hour but it was probably only a few minutes. When you turn the power off the pain subsides to a strange wet numbness and I look up through my tangled hair to see myself on the monitor, dripping in sweat, shaking and wailing my heart out.

“Please, please, I can’t……..” I wanted to say take any more but I’m exhausted and the effort is too much.

“Would you like to try something else?” she asks.

Anything but more of that!

It matters that you lift my hair off my face, brush a tear off my cheek and kiss me gently, before pulling the clothes peg off my right nipple. I stop myself calling you a cunt and snarl nothing real at all instead!

Am I wonderful? Oh thank you!


Do you know when I sit here at my desk I get so into visualising my torment I discover my heart is pounding, I'm breathing hard and my little typing fingers are trembling on their keys? This is one of the reasons I can only do it when my boyfriend's out!

Now I'm here I'll definitely stay. There's a lot of good reading on here and I love writing. I've not yet unravelled the mysteries of what it takes to write kinky sex yet, I mean in away that disguises how it's really only just kinky sex!

Just so you know he's back on Wednesday morning and I'll drop off the radar for two weeks. I haven't gone, I'm just normal Kate the sock washer. There might be opportunities to log on for an hour or two, which I might just to see what's going on, but I can never be sure when.

You're welcome to torture me any time you like. When inspiration overwhelms you scribble it down and I'll tell you what it felt like as soon as I can. I might be busy more tomorrow. I have to tidy the house and get some food in so it looks like I haven't been sitting here at my computer all week with my hand in my knickers! But write what you like anyway, who knows.

I think this might be goodnight.

Your mercilessly tortured Kate XX


Good morning

Did I tell you I enjoyed a couple of days of freedom? Remember I suffered some awful moments where my self control was tested earlier this week? Just after that my tormentor sent me a message to say he was facing problems in his real life and couldn't be with me, so I was free to play with whoever I liked. I had a lovely day yesterday being tortured, tied to your piano stool but I was knackered at the end of the day and I crashed into bed. This is within the rules by the way. So long as I don't actually tie myself to a piano stool and do it I'm allowed the pure fantasy.

I was woken up refreshed by the sun this morning thinking about tender moments and how, having spent the previous night with her, your slender red head with the little tits knew how to make me come. So she did. I'll write it for you if I get time today.

Then I logged on to my various essential websites to reach out round the world and there was a message from my tormentor resuming control of my sex life, meaning I lose the right to come when I want. Did I do that in the right order or what? WooHoo!!!!!

If you're interested I had to put the shock unit in my knickers and roll my on line dice roller three times to determine number of shocks, power level and shock spacing. I sent the results to him too. I got one shock at level 1 which is disappointingly easy but that's not the point. I now have to watch my messages in case he wants me for something else. It doesn't matter if he doesn't, I just have to be available. It's just like how I had to be on your doorstep at 9.45am yesterday in my shorts but the erotic power comes from feeling controlled in real life rather than from wild, rampaging fantasy. It's just as thrilling.

I'm going to be busy today but I'll keep CF open where I can.

Have fun,

Filthy Kate XX


I'm sure my tormentor has lots in mind. He made me take a silly test here https://bdsmtest.org/select-mode. I thought it was a bit daft to be honest but I answered the questions honestly and it's surprisingly close to how I see myself. He showed me his results. He's not a torturer and one of our weaknesses is he's reluctant to inflict the level of pain on me my fantasies demand. We've fixed this by establishing I've given him the right to give me hell in return for his promise that he might. The threat exists, that's all I need and I have that. We are more about control than persecution. I'm bullied psychologically, that's beautiful. Maybe one day I'll show you. When we started we talked lots about how it was possible to twist my mind, to make me do things I didn't want to do by tempting me with the idea of submission to them. Is it a case of who's leading who? Despite all that slave bollocks BDSM is always a negotiated deal.

On something like that subject, having had my mind twisted by the idea of crucifixion for a week, here's Kate's early morning rub off session.............

My back hurts because I can’t cope with this stressed, arched, thighs held wide apart position on the edge of your piano stool. My hips ache, my wrists feel chafed where I’ve been pulling against my cuffs, involuntarily tensed by the pain of being tortured so badly for so long. My genitals are just raw, like they’ve been skinned and the sweat running over and into them stings.

Why have you let me rest? It’s been at least 15 minutes since the last pulse ripped into my cunt but I dare not believe this is over. I can’t afford to expect release and then be denied it. I feel fragile, if there’s more, if you’re not satisfied I’ve suffered enough I still have to be prepared to take it, I can’t let false hope weaken me.

“I know how to make her come.” she tells you and asks me ”Remember that?” That’s how she made me offer her so much, she poisoned my common sense with my own lust. “Go on then.” you say, smiling at her.

She moves behind me then twists my arms in my handcuff so they’re folded in the small of my back. This gives her space on the stool to sit down after she’s nudged me forward, onto the narrowest possible remaining part of it. If my ankles weren’t tied I’d fall of the front. My cunt’s in mid air, more easily accessible than ever.

She sits with her legs spread round me so I can feel her pert breasts brush me as she reached round with both hands. She can squeeze my tits, pinch my nipples, smooth her palms down my stomach or feel along the length of my inner thighs. So she does but I know where she wants to be. Worse, she can talk to me, teasing me with words spoken quietly into my ear. I can’t stop any of it.

“Now then Kate my dear, have we hurt you enough?” she whispers. “Yes.” I tell her so she slides her hands up my legs to rest on my cunt.



Her left hand pulls back my hood and tip of her right middle finger finds my clit. She’s hardly touching me.

“You’re going to come back so we can do this again, aren’t you?” The thought of it’s wild. “Yes.”

“You fucking, filthy whore!” she growls. “I have to.” I gasp. She’s moving her finger tip in circles defining the tip of my clit but there’s no pressure, I can’t feel her enough.

“Why do you have to?” Telling her I know my cunt is only for the pleasure of others makes me need to feel her and I try to squirm to get her to touch me harder, but I can’t move enough and she easily avoids me. “Why do we need to torture you?” she asks. I feel her touch me again, it’s a tickle, nothing near enough.

I tell her I don’t deserve pleasure. The only way I can truly serve, degraded, humiliated and faithfully is if my cunt is ruined, trashed and too painful to allow me my womanhood. I’m less than that. “Now you get slut hood, don’t you, whore.” she laughs, giggling at the joke.

The circles her finger tip describe reduce to a tiny rocking motion, I can’t tell if I can feel her or not but I want to so much the bruising on my aching clit’s enough for me to imagine I can. “Please rub me, oh C’mon, harder please!” I think but I dare not say it, she’ll stop.

“It doesn’t feel ruined.” she says. “Do you want it ruined?” I do. I promise to come back, I promise I’ll always be available, I want to be tortured.

She starts to push and I can really feel her at last. I tell her I want my cunt pounded, I want it fuckin’ fried, scorched, burnt useless. “Smash it, I’ll take the pain, I don’t care how much it hurts” I tell her. I want to be for the pleasure of others. I don’t want a life, only to be a whore, a cunt and used!

She’s breathing hard now. “I’m gonna destroy you ‘cos you want it you twisted fuck!” she spits in my ear. “Next time I’ll tear your worthless cunt apart and you with it.” She rubs harder and I can’t believe how much I need the pain. “We’ll fuckin’’ crucify you. Tell me you want that.”


“C’mon, beg for it!”

I plead my heart out, desperate to suffer crucifixion with no idea what that might be or the presence of mind to consider it. “We’ll torture you witless, OK?” I am witless! “OK.’

“Tell me!” she barks “Please torture me!” I wail and promise I’ll take next time however bad it is.

I feel so depraved and dirty it blows my head off and I might have lost consciousness at some point.


I’m showered, smelling sweetly once more and enjoying a well earned coffee as we chat about what an amazing experience we just had. I say I know I said all that stuff but it was heat of the moment right? I mean you couldn’t really expect me to be rational and clear headed, not off my head with sex, could you?

Then you show me my submission from the computer’s eye view and tell me I’ll be uploaded if I fail to keep my promises, even though they weren't real!

“You’re fucked!” she purrs, loving it.

Kontrolled Kate XX


Do you remember I was temporarily released by my tormentor last time I made my poor whore's cunt available for torture? Well I did that in just one of the conversations I was involved in then and in the other important one I made myself available for a little scary public humiliation to someone who wanted me to tell him personal details of my sex life he could embarrass me with. I was having such a lovely time I answered his questions, I was excited!
I'm firmly back under control now and I'm not sure whether the fun I had was a problem or not. I was watched! Consequently we're having something of a drive to make me more open and accessible. My tormentor wants to control me more completely than simply allowing me my head space and he wants to know what I do with it. I had to tell him we'd been role playing torturing my sex organs but because we did it only in writing and doing that isn't one of the things he wants me for, we're OK to continue doing it!

When I say I was watched I don't mean our private conversations, I mean he knew how long I was on CF for. I have what he calls a "polite request". Because he's keenly interested in me sexually he would like to know what you would use me for if he gave me to you for a while. I don't mean the fantasy things we've talked about. You know I don't really want my girl hole stretched to breaking point or my clit wounded, so don't ruin me. Think about what you'd do to me if he handed me over in the same way you handed me over to Helen, on the bus. What would you do to me if he offered me to you for the evening? Remember you'll have to give me back intact!

I'm going to send him what you write. I think it fascinates him to know something of other people I talk to, and why I enjoy it. If you don't want to do that it's no problem. I've been asked to ask that's all. To be honest I'd quite like to know too! Dress me, undress me, my toys or yours, bedroom, dungeon, public or anything, go for it!

Are you well, working at that desk? Has that silk scarf you made me soak reminded you of me these past two weeks? It's hot here, it must be blistering as far south as you are. Do you want me standing there with my feet apart and my wrists locked behind me in case you need me, pearls of sweat soaking into my little white knickers, all I have on in the heat?

On loan Kate XX


The other conversation, the public humiliation risk one, my tormentor denied. I had to stop that one because it was a little too much like my submission to my one and only owner! I'm privileged to be able to be shared! As you know being shared is particularly erotic for a willing slut like me. Yes please, think about it, I'll enjoy sending him what you want to do to me.

Have I changed my position so I'm standing beside you with my arse resting on your desk? That way you can still work, you can face your computer and type with your right hand if you want, if there's something more important that me to attend to. Of course I know most things are more important than me. All I do is supply a cunt for you to play with, and a pair of tits with nipples to hurt. I thought if I stand like this I can accept your left hand in my soaked knickers at a much better angle. Isn't working my cunt hard more comfortable like this? I mean if you need to type you can while still pushing your fingers into me, you don't need to make a special effort or concentrate on me at all.

You know I don't want to come, I can't, I'm only on loan. I'll still beg you to make me come. It's one of those awful psychological traps I must endure. It's as if I'm begging for punishment. Goodness knows what will happen to me if I come! I'll have to tell him, I'm bound by my rules, I'm sexually accessible at all times. Begging for punishment, begging you to make me come because you want me to makes me demand you not to do it. I feel so precarious it makes me want to come worse. Please, for fuck's sake be careful, leave me aching to come, please?

You sent me home on the bus with no knickers stinking of sex? What did Helen want pushed up my arse? Did I endure it for the whole bus ride?

Filthy, stinking Kate XX


Yes I need to be controlled and used, such is my purpose, it's what I'm for, the sexual gratification of others. I suppose if, as it is now, my Master only wants to know what you would do to me if he offered me to you, you can tell him you'd force me to come anyway you like.

Am I in your garden now, with you, offering you my cunt as I must always do? I can't come. I'm only written, not actually handed over by my Master. He's told me he doesn't need a reason to punish me, of course he doesn't, as his whore I'm available for punishment always. My worry is that fantasy though this is and therefore not contrary to his rules, if you make me come he'll know I did if you tell him. Yes I exist to be tortured both sexually and mentally. If you make me come and insist I own up I will. You still want me to beg you to don't you? You want me to so that I have to tell him I begged to be forced to orgasm?

(I can't come, I don't know what he'll do to me if I do.)

Is your wine in your right hand? Can I try to place my cunt close to your left so that you might manipulate me or impale me. I have no knickers now, you cut them off. Can I squirm to rub my crotch on your knuckles, can I try to ride you hand? Can I make it any clearer that I want to be handled.

Please, push your fingers into me, please?

Please, touch Her, just a finger tip, a gentle touch, please tease me, please?

(Don't, I'll come, I can't, I could be in so much trouble!)

Please threaten me with pain. Tell me you'll zap my filthy whore's cunt, you'll fry Her. You'll ramp up the power until I don't know what to beg for? Please tell me how filthy I am, please tell me I exist to be tortured and nothing else, please?

Which path will you choose? Do you want me on the floor? Do you want to watch me rub my aching cunt on the legs of your chair, on your feet, desperate to feel you abuse me? You know Helen would kick me, would you? Oh god I'd be so close if I thought you would! I'd feel so worthless then.

I'm trapped, begging you to make me come but praying you won't. When will you do it and how? Do I keep trying, offering myself until you do?

OK, if you want me to come, put my shock collar round my neck and make me rub my cunt on your feet while you stab me in the throat until I do. Please do that, I need to come now please, I need release!

Filthy tormented whore Kate XX


My legs are pegged wide open and there's insects exploring me!
I don't know what you'll do to me. I don't know what Helen will do to me either. This is what I want to fear..........

I hear you both come out of the house and walk towards me. You both stand over me while you show her how you have me pinned down. She laughs and asks "Having a good time Pig Face?" I'm scared, breathing heavily and don't answer her, she doesn't care anyway. She notices the shock collar and you send a couple of high power pulses ripping in to my throat to show her that too, I yelp. "What's not to like?" she jokes and then you tell her my cunt's wired too and hurt that to demonstrate. She presses the toe of her shoe into my crotch to make sure the probe is pushed inside me adequately.

She's wearing heels and steps on my stomach, resting the ball of one foot above my bush so that as he moves her weight back, her heel begins to dig into my open rose. I feel it's sharp worn edges and imagine it rough and harsh. "Please no, don't." I plead. "What?" she asks, "Worried I'll get your filthy cunt dirtier than it is already, whore?" I try to twist my hips, to stop her standing on my clit. She asks you what you're going to do to me but you don't know, yet and joke "Maybe we'll think of something!"

Then you leave me. I hear you laughing and joking with her in the house as the evening turns to night and dew turns the grass around me damp. I know I'll get cold and pray you won't leave me out here all night. Are there mosquitos? I'll get eaten alive!

I hear the sounds of passion. Are you fucking her? Are you playing with her, enjoying her while I'm out here trapped? I know you're doing that to make me feel abandoned because I'm not abandoned, I'm tortured. I know you think of me because either you or her think it's funny to shock me at random intervals. You draw the curtains so I can only imagine the wine, the reckless flesh, the pleasure I'm denied. Each time the current pierces my throat or grips me deep in my cunt I know you don't even see me suffer it! You remember the control unit now and then and think it amusing to give the whore another zap. Her cunt or her neck? Why not both, she deserves it?

Which one of you is it who holds the button down, making me writhe in agony through four, five, six or more vicious pulses? I'm always surprised, there's no pattern. I'm tortured alone and worse for the unpredictability of it. Is it you or her ruining my poor cunt, rendering me hoarse?

Eventually the lights go out, the laughing subsides and the last shock I suffered was ages ago. "Please!" I cry out. "Don't leave me here all night?" You wouldn't, would you? I'm almost too scared to complain, will I be punished for that?

It's going to be a long painful night.

Taking this to bed with me Kate XX


I wasn't around much yesterday. I got bloody punished! My Master has another sub and he was busy with her but she's apparently a bit of a shambles and often fails at tasks because her toy box is a mess, she can't find anything he wants and if she does, her batteries are always flat! He told me if she fucked up, I'd get punished, but that's not THE punishment.

I found that so brutally unfair it really turned me on and I stayed on line far longer than I should have, risking discovery if my boyfriend came home. Well, he did. I had to scramble around to get some clothes on and hide everything in a tearing hurry. I didn't get away with it. Consequently I'm in some domestic crap, sort of, but when I told my Master why I had to suddenly disappear he gave me a bollocking, telling me I'd taken unnecessary risks and endangered the future of our on line kink. I suppose I had but saying sorry and promising not to do it again wasn't good enough and I got banned from DA and CF for the rest of the day, bastard! A real punishment? OK, so we're doing those are we?

I hope you're well and enjoying a productive day.

Filthy, punished Kate XX


Well I can't imagine why I thought I'd find some sympathy round here! You think I deserve my bare tits properly flogged, and my cunt? OK, how do you want me? Do you have a whipping post in your cellar or are you going to hang me from a hook?

Bloody hell, all I did was get caught playing with my shock box. Yes I was nearly naked, so what? It's a hot day!

I haven't been flogged before.

Kontrite Kate XX


Have I been tied to that beam in your cellar? I Don't want to be ripped to pieces with rose branches, I don't like blood, especially mine! I've been redeemed. I had to make myself come with my Tens but I had to last twenty minutes. I couldn't, I only made it to thirteen. I thought I'd be punished for that but he loved the idea that I was helpless and the Tens had forced me to orgasm even though I fought desperately to stop it. I'm going to post the story on here in my Practicing Kate thread.

If my feet are tied apart I have no choice do I?


I see you read the report of my failure! When I begged him to let me come he put me under forced conditions. This means that I will come even if I don't feel like it. It's important to have mechanisms in place with which he can force me to come at will. He was impressed that the Tens and the knife handle rendered me completely subservient to him. I really had no choice. I'm going to do it again tomorrow but this time I'm not forced. I can come with careless abandon.

I'm a practicing whore. Masters are so different!


Yes I do have that strength. I've spent days on both here and DA writing the most outrageous filth and winding myself up without permission to come, and I don't. Perhaps permission isn't quite the right way to look at it. I only come when he wants me to. In fact I can only beg for it if he's told me I can, I can't ask of my own free will. Sexually I have none. So, although you would like to deny me orgasm tomorrow by asking me to deny myself, I can't. Oddly enough, although I'm not forced, he wants me to force myself.

Who really controls who is an interesting question. A few weeks ago I'd have said I was the prime mover of our adventure but actually he approached me and asked me to submit to him. He wanted my sex life and told me that once I was committed I would stay under his control until he released me. He warned me to think hard about if that was what I wanted. Eventually he persuaded me to submit. At that point I lost my choices. As you read in the story, I so desperately want to be obedient I really am committed. I'd feel awful if I disobeyed him, it's unthinkable. When he gives me a task I feel as if he's giving me another chance to show him I'm willing to be controlled. I love that feeling. The psychology behind this is lovely. Thinking "Please, take my sex life." is so beautiful it makes my heart flutter.

I exist to be used and to give myself for the use of whoever he wishes to share me with. That's why he asked me to ask you what you'd use me for if he shared me with you, he thought about it. It's quite exciting, I love the idea of being borrowed by someone he chose. Actually, if I was under loan to you now and you wanted to deny me orgasm tomorrow, I would not come. At least if I was allowed to choose the power settings myself!


"Hello whore"? You think sweet talking like that is going to make a girl want her cunt tortured? Oh you know me so well!

I love to straddle the low branches of our holly tree and let the spiky leaves scratch me, in the absence of someone to whip me between my legs.


I want my legs spread, I try to hold my thighs apart but the pegs won't let me. I want to spread my cunt to at least try to relieve the pressure on the jagged thorns but I can't. I'm pinned, unable to move at all because of this murderous crotch rope piercing my genitals. There's one digging into my ring, forced deeper by my arse cheeks. I'm so sore my sweat is stinging me. You want me bitten and stung by insects too? Why don't you rub honey into my wounded cunt then!!!

The Tens control box is lying on the ground between my feet where I can see it, it's wires feeding up into me, threatening me. I can't believe you'll torture me worse. I'm so scared of what you're capable of and after you've left me wrecked by the pain you've inflicted on me what you're capable of matters. Who are those people you've booked that room with?

Have you sold me? Are you going to hand me over having promised them faithfully I'll endure whatever you've told them they can do to me? Or are you going to do it for them? Have they paid to see me tortured? Are you going to force me open for them and render me helpless or do you expect me to offer myself willingly? I'll be worth more if I do won't I? Is that what this is, a taste of the full horror of punishment at your hands, something I can expect if I don't behave and take the agony inflicted on me without complaint?

I haven't done anything wrong. Surely asking if Helen was your guest isn't an offence of this magnitude, is it? You're teaching me a fucking good lesson for the future aren't you, nailing me in my place with thorns? What will her part in it be? She'll delight in my suffering won't she? Am I her rival, does she want my cunt ruined, does she want me unfuckable or does she want my next fuck to cripple me in agony so badly I'll never want to suffer another. Then will I be fun to fuck, when every stroke will be the torture I deserve, worthless whore that I am.

How worthless do I feel now, how dependant on you to help me when I know you want me helpless? I'll wait, and try to breathe through the pain. It'll get easier once I've stopped crying and accepted my life is like this now. I am only a cunt to torture!


Each pulse from the Tens feels like someone holding a flaming torch between my legs. The only way I'm going to survive this is try to detach myself from the pain. Each pulse makes me gasp. I yelp and squeal and the pitiless bitch loves it. She smiles as she makes me piss as if she intended to. I can't even control that, she does, I have no dignity left. I blink the tears out of my eyes momentarily and see her finger the control box like it's controlling me. She looks right at me, eye to eye, so she knows how much she's hurting me. "You're fucked." she growls with a satisfied grin on her face. "You want more?" she asks. Neither yes or no is the right answer, I'll get it anyway.

"Ask me." she says, "Go on, beg me to hurt your cunt like you really want me to." I have to. "Please cripple me." I wail, "Fry my arse hole. Please I need this, I need teaching, I need to be made useless, I'm worth nothing." I cry and just to make sure I impress her I offer "Fuck up my sex life please, destroy my cunt!" "OK bitch." she laughs and clicks up the dial............
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