Violette Thorngate Exquisite Dominance

Feb 8 2008 My Kitty WhoreCategory: General     01:11PM   0

He was wearing the tackiest sweater. It was sort of quaintly tacky, like he came from a Scottish isle directly to his session. Awful. He wasn't even Scottish. Crawling up the stairs, stripping, and preparing himself he was very obedient- almost impressive for a relative novice. He wanted to take something big for me, to learn to suck and be taken from behind just for me. I knew who he had seen with before, knew that he ached for young Dommes who are by turns aggressive and seductive. I almost stopped responding to his emails, his grammar was so bad. When I spoke to him on the phone, he seemed to be a college-educated professional, but in his emails it looked like he hadn't passed first grade. Most 7 year olds have a better grasp on what a complete sentence looks like, and they don't have to be asked three times. I'm considering instituting a policy of not answering any emails which substitute "U" for "You", "2" for "too" or "to". Somehow I took pity on his hideous writing with the thought I could somehow imporve him, make him almost functional in the written world and at the same time a decent fucktoy for myself and others.

He was such a hopeless case at first. It is not that hard to understand the command "ass up, back arched, belly down." but for some reason, many men are apparently not taught which part is which. Either that or they have trouble with up and down. Once I finally used guided visualization to get his body in the postion I most liked it draped over the spanking horse and open to invasion, I spanked him quickly to leave his bottom pink and warm, appealing to the eye and ready for penetration. The riding bat and my bare hand relaxed him enough that I could start him out gently, accepting something inside of him for the very first time. Or so he says- annoying little piggies rarely tell the truth, and that's another kind of training we'll be working on.

Later. on his hands and knees inside the heavy cage which just barely fit him, wrists restrained together outside the bars and mouth filled with a soft "practice pecker," he wriggled his rear in the air like a cat in heat, hungry for the feeling of something he had craved for years but never tasted until this evening. I sent him away with homework (as I almost always do), and already he's shaping up into quite the kitty whore. I know he'll love reading this little account of our time together!


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