Friday Rituals: Part IV

I drove home that afternoon. My ass was hot. The welts were feverish, and I squirmed in my seat as I drove the 20 minutes to my apartment. On the way home, my car was silent, but my head was roaring with the activities of the previous hour and its results.

Part of me was scared. What if someone found out? Am I a freak? Could I go back for the next appointment? What the fuck was wrong with me?

Part of me was exhilirated. I had finally satisfied a longing. I never thought I'd build up the nerve to do it. So many years of masturbating in my bed, crazy with the passion of wanting to be used and tortured and giving pleasure. One, two, a dozen people at once. I craved submission.
I knew, I would go back. It was like a drug addiction. You believe you'll try it once, just for the fun of it, but once you get a feel of the drug, a voice in you says "I'll be back."

When I got home, I got out of my car gingerly. I walked as fast as my welts would let me-the rubbing against my clothing was a lingering torture. I unlocked my apartment door, and went straight to my bedroom. I stripped completely naked. I needed to see.

I looked in the mirrored doors of my closet. What I saw shocked me. I wasn't prepared for the long red streaks that laced my ass. The welts were tinged red, the blood raised to just under the surface of the skin. I stared, hypnotized. The scene was replaying itself in my mind.

A fantasy began playing out in my mind.

I bent over, so I could look at myself upside down in the mirror. I began picturing being forced to do just this, and being forced to watch Lady Madonna bring the riding crop down against the flesh of my ass.

I spread my legs a little more. How would it look to her, being able to see my vulva? Would the crop just barely miss my tender flesh? The idea of the crop coming dangerously close to my pussy with each lash was making me wet.

I slowly stood up, and turned around facing the mirror. My nipples were hard, and I began squeezing them more. I took a hand, and brought it slowly down from my large breasts down to my pussy. I rubbed a finger on my clit, and knew I had to once again feed the hungry lion of sexual depravity.

I went to my nightstand, and grabbed my rabbit dildo.

Lying back on my bed, I spread my legs as far apart as I could possible get them, and slowly inserted the dildo. Selecting the constant vibration on the dildo, I found that special place under my clit, and pushed the ears of the rabbit inward.

I began picturing having to bend over and watch Lady Madonna lash me in the mirror. I pictured her shoving a dildo in my pussy, and spanking me further. The rabbit vibrated on my clit, and I could feel the orgasm building. I pictured Lady Madonna stopping, and making me lay down, getting on top of me, holding my wrists down with her knees, and forcing me to eat her pussy. I pictured her wiping her juices on my face, making me her slave, marking me. I pictured her commanding me to keep my legs spread, keep my pussy exposed. I pictured looking up at those incredible breasts, the nipples poking out hard, looking as if they'd burst from the excitement.

I pushed the rabbit in a little harder, and the scream that came from my throat was the scream of a satisfied slave.

I'd be back.

I was addicted.