Breaking Esther – Part I
She lay there and felt a little sick. Her head was cloudy and she couldn’t work out where she was or what had happened to her. Her head hurt and she rubbed it. As she moved her weight she heard the rustle of packaging and slowly looked around her. She was lying in an alley surrounded by rubbish. She stared at it rather stupefied for a while as slowly recollection returned to her. She had been jogging through the alley on her way back home when suddenly she had tripped. As she continued to rub her head she reckoned she must have hit her head as she fell. She wondered how long she had been lying there and whether anyone had passed and not bothered to help her. They probably thought she was a drunk or something.
Painfully she got up and felt her balance poor. She wasn’t able to stand, at least not just yet. She leaned against the dustbins as her mind slowly cleared. She tried to focus her eyes on the alleyway in an attempt to figure out which way she should turn. Slowly she moved off down the passageway leaning against the wall for support. When she finally got home she looked at her watch. “My God its late evening. I must have been lying there the whole day!” Esther always went for a jog in the early morning. She was an early riser and maintained a healthy lifestyle. How was it possible that a whole day could pass while she had passed out? As her head cleared more and the feeling of nausea subsided a little she started to piece together what she had been doing. She looked again at her watch and this time she noticed the date. 3 days had passed!!! She could not possibly have hit her head and passed out for 3 days. What had happened to her?
At home she had a long soak in the bath and started to feel better. She fixed herself a meal and tried to work out whether she had been mistaken about the date when she had gone jogging. She must have done. It didn’t make sense otherwise. Yet the more she thought the harder it was to reconcile. It was Thursday today, but she could not recall anything of Tuesday or Wednesday. Was she getting absent minded? Was it a consequence of her fall and hitting her head? Perhaps she should go and have a check up.
The next morning she decided not to go jogging and have a lie in. As she lay in her bed she suddenly heard a voice right next to her. “Good morning Esther. It is good to see you are staying over late in bed. I like to think of my slave luxuriating in her bed, lying in anticipation of her lover.” She leaped up and looked around. There was no one in the room. She checked the radio, but it was not on. “Are you searching for me? You wont find me, Esther. I am not out there among the furniture, I am right here inside your head.” She put her hands up to the sides of her head. What was going on? She could hear him as if he were standing right there at the foot of the bed, so calmly talking to her. Yet there was no one there. “What’s the matter Esther? Is it too hard to take in? Do you want a little demonstration of how I now control you? You just lie there and think of your favourite fantasy. I want you to think of the person you most want to come and fuck you. Are you imagining that for me Esther?” She was confused, her mind trying to grapple with the disembodied words she was hearing but automatically conjured up the familiar figure of her handsome fantasy lover, the one who always knew which buttons to press to make her feel aroused. Was it arousal she felt or just plain in love? She started to notice a slight ache in her loins and tried to press her thighs together. A little buzz of electricity passed through her as she squeezed them tight. “Do you feel yourself becoming a little aroused yet? You see Esther, I control your cunt as well as your mind. I can make you so fucking excited that you will hump the bedpost in order to find relief.” As if in response to the words in her head she started to feel the ache between her thighs suddenly become more persistent. She could no longer keep her mind off it and wanted to reach out and touch her little mound that was tormenting her so. She slipped her hand down over her panties and she could feel the smooth round mound of her pubis. She pressed it through the cotton and the feeling excited her more. “That’s it Esther, feel that tension building up. Imagine your lover there taking off those delicate panties, revealing your most intimate recesses, which are already open and awaiting him. Do you feel the moistness oozing from your slit, lubricating you in preparation for his entrance? As her hand slid over the smooth cotton she pressed it against her clitoris and felt some relief as she pressed it. The voice in her head urged her on, gently dragging her fingers down further to dip inside. “Can you feel that spring inside you, my slave, and you must release it. The only escape from these feelings that are welling up inside you is to give in to them and bring yourself to climax. Imagine that familiar charge running through your body. Slide your fingers inside your panties and gently ease them through the outer lips of your labia. Go on Esther, don’t fight it, just luxuriate in the sensations.” She had never considered putting her hands down there and the thought revolted her. Yet the soft gentle persuasion in her head continued to ease her down the road to submission to her most wanton desires. Her fingers traced the elastic at the top of her panties and she could not help but imagine his hands tracing her abdomen. Her back arched as she pushed herself out to him as his fingers dipped down from her hips to the low sweeping arc above her mound. She felt the gentle pull on the few hairs above her panty line. Her fingers rode on up the other side and then slid slowly, cravingly down again. Back and forth her fingers roamed over her body and all the time the feeling of excitement and anticipation between her legs grew and grew. In some vague disconnected way her mind told her she must stop this, but she didn’t want to stop.
Suddenly she started to feel her panties becoming damp, her throat dry and constricted, her eyes tight shut. Her thoughts moved on from the slow graceful patterning of fingers over her belly. She started to feel a greater urgency and her fingers slipped almost subconsciously inside the material to prize open her labia ever so gently. Her fingertips felt the moistness of her secretions and this excited her all the more. Her clitoris throbbed with urgency, her fingers started the long slow descent from where she had stimulated it down towards the opening at its base and then back up again. She was so damp that her fingers slid effortlessly back and forth and she could not stop them dipping inside the entrance to her womb.
The voice continued to push her along, dipping first one and then another finger into her hole. She felt the tingle of excitement and a burning heat mounting between her legs. She pulled her hand away and found it was clammy. Raising her hips she removed her panties in one swift, decisive movement. She lay there with her legs spread apart and pictured the view her cunt must offer someone (this man?) standing at the end of her bed. She started to imagine him, the stranger, dipping his fingers into her cunt and that she was wet for him. She did not know who he was, and she did not have any rights over him, yet he could demand her to open herself to him and she would be lying there, humiliated but ready for his inspection, which would reveal how wet and ready she was for him. Her clitoris throbbed and she could feel moisture seeping from her and pooling onto the sheet between her open thighs. In a great effort of will she dragged herself out of bed and across the room. Her mind telling her she must not allow these degrading thoughts to take her over like this.
She walked about the house with an orange juice in her hand, shaking and thinking furiously through what had just happened. She could still hear him telling her that she was his and that she must find release for all the sexual tension that he had implanted in her. It was true her body ached for orgasm and she found it difficult to focus on what he was saying. She returned to her bed and lay down, opening her legs dutifully and burying her hand once again between her thighs. She tried to think of something else, of what she was going to do that day, but her fingers slid ever so gently forward closing in on her opening. She was soon humping her hand and squeezing it between her thighs. Suddenly she started to buck as the waves of mounting tension washed over her. She rocked back and forth across the bed and let out a loud moan as she buried her face in her pillows and orgasmed. The waves of pleasure rippled down her thighs. Lying still on the bed, her hand still wet and tracing over her labia she listened to the voice instructing her. “You are mine Esther. Did you wonder where you had been the last 3 days? After I tripped you and chloroformed you I brought you to my surgery. There I made a small operation on your body and inserted two miniature devices. One of these is buried inside your ear. As I speak the device is activated remotely and starts to vibrate. The vibrations in your eardrum mimic my voice as if I was there, talking right next to you. Only this way I can talk directly to you, but no one else can hear me. I can plant any thought into your head and because my voice is now buried inside your skull, you cannot shut me out. I am going to implant progressively more degrading images into your brain and very shortly your body will grow to crave these terrible suggestions I will impose upon you to be acted upon, just as you craved the orgasm you have just had.”
She shook her head, moaning in despair and disbelief at the words echoing in her head as she lay on her bed in the safety of her own home. She was not going to give in to this. She was not going to become some man’s slave. In fact worse than a slave, she would become some kind of automaton whose will could be manipulated for the entertainment of some stranger. He didn’t know just how determined she could be. The voice in her head, however, was carrying on relentlessly: “The second device I inserted next to your clitoris. I can remotely turn you on just like the switch for the light in your room. You no longer have control of your thoughts or you libido. When I say you feel fucking horny, that is just how you are going to feel. You are mine Esther, so I should get some sleep now after your little exertions this morning. Soon I will be driving you to greater heights of pleasure and depravity, so conserve your strength.”
She lay there hot and tired her mind whirling with questions. She was shocked and appalled at what she had just done and her mind couldn’t recover from the shock of what it had heard. Had she really heard those things? Was it really possible that someone could have kidnapped her after she fell? She tried to remember whether she had been tripped but couldn’t be sure. It just sounded all so fanciful, yet she felt afraid. The voice was so real she had shot up in bed as soon as it spoke. There was absolutely no doubt about it. She went into the bathroom and examined her pussy. Was that a faint line next to her clitoris? She had never examined herself so closely before. Her fingers trailed down to her opening only to find it sopping wet. Whatever else, she had just had a fantastic orgasm. She was scared but somehow exhilarated at the same time.
Later that day she had recovered from her early morning adventure and it had faded into the back of her mind. Suddenly as she walked through the street the voice started to talk to her again. She jumped and shrieked. Everyone turned to look at her and see what was wrong, but clearly no one around her had heard the voice telling her she was a whore that he was about to prepare her cunt to be ready for any one of these strangers who passed her by. She felt her face and neck burn at the suggestion and wondered what the people staring at her would be thinking. If only they knew what had just passed through her mind. She felt a familiar throb start up between her thighs as her clitoris began to be stimulated. It was unbelievable how she was just walking along, her mind filled with everyday thoughts one moment, and the very next she ached to put her fingers inside her knickers and luxuriate in the moisture collecting so rapidly there. She wanted to put a hand to her breasts and tease her nipples and feel them extend, pushing outwards to these strangers. How was it possible she could so suddenly become so overwhelmed?
With an effort of will she focused on the pavement in front of her, lowered her head and walked on. As she walked her mind could not escape picturing her labia becoming enlarged. She started to feel heat spreading out from her cunt. She quickened her step as if she could outrun these thoughts that pursued her, but she was carrying them along with her, inside her head. Her clitoris was now driving her wild with desire and she started to look around for where she might find relief. She dived into a shop and rushed into the toilet where she buried three fingers up her cunt. She rocked her torso back and forth over her fingers as she orgasmed several times. She heard other people entering and moving about outside the cubicle as she sat with her legs lewdly stretched apart, her skirt up around her waist and her knickers pulled taut between her ankles. She wondered what people would think if they knew what she was doing. She knew that she herself would have condemned as depraved another person if she saw them act in this way.
As she sat at home at the end of the day reflecting upon all that had happened, she acknowledged for the first time that this man now had total control over her feelings and actions. If she was to ever break free she must remove the devices he had inserted in her. She had to see her doctor and arrange for it. She picked up the phone and dialled the surgery. “Hello. I’d like to make an appointment to see Dr Frost today if possible.” “Is it an emergency?” “Yes!” “What is the matter with you?” It was an innocent enough question. Could she tell this receptionist that a man had total control over her and was driving her to sexual ecstasy? If not, then how else could she persuade her to make an emergency appointment? Her mind went blank. “I’m sorry. No I guess it’s not an emergency. A regular appointment will do.” “That will be Tuesday of next week at 3:45.” Five days! What was going to happen to her during those 5 days? Who knows to what level of wantonness he would drive her to in that time. She put the phone down as despair engulfed her.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully and she went to bed that night thinking over her bizarre day and her strange behaviour. Somehow she couldn’t accept the things she had been told by this voice. Maybe tomorrow she would be back to her usual self. She slept soundly that night but awoke in the early hours screaming, her body humping her hand once again buried deep in her cunt. She was rocking back and forth in a delirium of excitement. As her orgasm subsided she lay shaking from her exertions and bathed in sweat. She remembered dreaming of being bound, gagged and raped by a host of strange men who were too shadowy in her dream to recognise any features. Her body had responded immediately to her rape and the images of large buckled belts wrapped around her arms and neck, her nipples standing proud, her cunt shaved smooth and visibly wet. She started to think about the voice in her head. If he could force these images into her head during the day, then how much more receptive would she be to his suggestions while she was asleep at night. She started to panic as she thought about the possibility of his brain washing her during the night when her stupefied brain would readily accept whatever he inserted into it. With these thoughts still whirling round in her head she fell back into deep sleep.
The next day she was walking around the supermarket desperately trying to turn her thoughts away from the annoying buzz between her legs. It was a battle of wills that she was determined to win. She wandered around the supermarket trying to collect her thoughts and focus upon everyday activities such as what she would cook that night? She wandered the aisles, her eyes unseeing, remembering what he had told her this morning: “Today you are to buy some eggs and breaking one soak a second egg in the white of the first and insert it into your pussy.” The instructions simple and clear, the thought had instantly excited and repelled her and she had spent the rest of the day trying to escape her own evil imaginings. Suddenly she realised that the ache between her legs was getting worse and she started to feel heat around her face and breasts again. She looked around to see whether anyone noticed and as she did so realised that she was standing next to the egg counter.
He must be here somewhere watching her. How else could he know she was by the eggs? She scanned the faces as she felt the moistness collecting in her knickers. She moved off. Anywhere, anywhere other than next to the eggs. If she stopped there another minute she would be driven to voice the pleasure that welled up inside her despite her efforts to try and control it. She felt her throat starting to constrict and she ran down the next aisle. As she moved away the ache in her cunt subsided to a more tolerable level. Soon she was able to think once again about cooking, but what?
After roaming the aisles for a while she decided to bake a cake. Her mother would be coming over in a day or two, and baking would keep her occupied. She started to try and piece together what she would need and headed off for the flour. Of course she knew that the flour was there next to the eggs. Her subconscious knew it by didn’t dare tell the conscious part of her brain that she was headed back towards the eggs. Deep down somewhere well buried was a desire to feel that inescapable pleasure that overtook her when she stopped by the eggs. She stooped down looking at the flour trying to decide which brand to buy and the stirring in her groin started afresh. The feeling of moistness surrounding her cunt from her pooled juices only added to her distraction. She pretended to focus on the flour but the waves of pleasure were once again rapidly mounting within her. If she did not do something soon she would reach the point where she could no longer pretend she was not consumed by sexual desire. She turned looked at the eggs, got up and walked down the aisle. She owed it to herself to resist.
She carried on round the aisles and tried not to acknowledge the feeling of disappointment she felt and frustration at not reaching orgasm. She collected the other ingredients she would need for the cake. Finally it dawned on her that she would need eggs for the cake! How stupid of her, why hadn’t she thought of that straight away? Perhaps she had? She started to doubt her motives and decided she just had to go and get some and leave as quickly as possible.
She picked up the pack of eggs and as always opened them to check they were all in tact. As she looked down at the eggs in her hand she noticed how smooth and rounded they were. She imagined one of these eggs, soaked in egg white, feeling very slippery and hard to keep a grasp of, hard to resist if it were to demand entrance to her womb. She stared at the egg in her hand mesmerised, only recovering herself as a small dribble of saliva escaped the corner of her mouth and landed on the egg in front of her. Shocked at the sight of the lubricated egg, in front of her eyes, suddenly bringing her fantasy into stark reality, she closed the box quickly and stuffing it into the shopping basket moved off for the checkout.
At home she started on the cake, mixing the ingredients. The nagging feeling between her legs made her feel hot, but she continued to ignore it. She focused all her will power on the preparation of the cake. She tried not to notice how soft and slippery the butter was as she creamed it and she kept trying to bring her attention back on what she was doing and away from the pack of eggs at the end of the bench. She finally went over to them and decided to break each and every one of them. That way she would escape this infernal nagging fantasy. She took the eggs out and broke all but the last, which somehow she couldn’t bring herself to break. She left it in the bowl swimming in the white of the other eggs and went back to her bowl. Her breasts felt swollen and strained against the fabric of her bra. She knew perfectly well that breaking the eggs had been a mistake, once again bringing the fantasy a step closer to reality. Now she had to drag her mind away from the image of the remaining egg all slippery with the phlegm like nature of the egg white in which it was immersed. She started to wonder what it would feel like to smear the egg white over her pussy. She imagined her labia glistening, thrust out for some imaginary lover to inspect.
Finally she could not take it any more and went off to the loo. She put the bowl with the one whole egg still rolling back and forward coated with the egg white. She placed it on the floor in front of her as she sat on the loo. The excitement she felt was not to be denied. Her hand was shaking with the desire she felt as she considered the feel of the egg pushing up through her protective lips, forcing them apart and demanding entrance into her most private love canal. The egg glistened in the light from the ceiling as she picked it up. She looked down between her legs and noticed how wide the parting between her legs was as the hair of her pubic mound disappeared over that little precipice. She brought the egg up to that little bud that burned here so persistently. It felt cool as she touched her clitoris and almost orgasmed at the touch. She felt her lips open instinctively as if they knew their fate and willingly complied. She rubbed the egg up and down her slit smearing the egg white generously over them. It felt so cool and slippery that she became more aroused with the touch of it. She dipped the egg back in the clear fluid and continued to paint herself with it, rolling the egg around her slit making sure everything was well lubricated. She turned the point of the egg towards her and cupping the wide end in her hands, stared down over her bush at it. It looked like an arrow pointing up towards her entrance. She brought it slowly up to her cunt lips and pushed ever so slightly. Her lips parted and it glided past them. She was by now very hot as she tortured herself with the egg, but as she tried to push it in deeper she found the width of the far end of the egg hard to accommodate. It started to hurt as she was stretched wider open. She pulled it back out and looked down at it. A strand of fluid stretched from her opening to the egg. The image symbolised to her the inevitability of her submission to this egg, this suggestion that had been implanted into her brain and persistently and slowly overtaken her as the day had progressed. She raised the egg once again to her crack and pushed a little harder. She gave a squeal of pain mixed with pleasure as she felt it plop inside her. Suddenly she felt really full and wasn’t sure she could stop it from falling out again. She stood up slowly and felt the weight inside her move as it pressed against her G spot. The build up at her nerve endings as she felt this foreign weight inside her rubbing against her as she walked about drove her to greater levels of pleasure. She had to concentrate on the muscles at the entrance to her womb to keep the egg in. It made her walk slightly oddly but she felt so much excitement at the hidden depravity of what she had done. She wondered why she had never thought of doing something like this before.
Returning to the kitchen she continued to prepare the cake mix, squeezing her muscles all the time to push the egg further up inside her and then let it fall back towards her opening. She had lain down in front of the mirror to look at her cunt and had seen her labia fully stretched and unable to close perfectly around the egg. She could just make out the shell of the egg peaking through from inside. With her fingers she had rolled the egg round in her vagina and marvelled at the exquisite delight she had felt from this movement.
Suddenly the phone rang and she picked it up. It was her mother. She almost lost her voice from the shame and humiliation she felt, and conversation was difficult with her mind constantly in fear of discovery that she had an egg up her fanny. She had always been so good and had always pleased her mother in every way. What would her mother say if she knew? Ridiculous as it sounded she was feeling like some naughty child found out and confronted. As soon as the conversation was over she ran back to the loo to remove the egg, but how could she get it out? With her fingers she could not get a proper purchase on it. The damn thing just rolled around inside her. Why had she not thought of that before? She would also need it for the cake since she had destroyed all the other eggs. Panic tied a knot in her stomach as she went back to the kitchen. Suddenly she grasped the bowl with the cake mix and squatted over it. She pushed with all her might as if she was giving birth. She felt the egg move down and start to prize her labia apart from within. She continued to push and groaned from the effort. Eventually the egg plopped back out and landed in the bowl where it broke. The effort and the pressure from the egg had made a small amount of urine escape from her into the bowl before she could control it. The fright at urinating into the cake mix made her orgasm again. She couldn’t believe the pleasure she could derive from such depraved behaviour. She looked at the cake mix with the small pool of her urine in it. She couldn’t start again as she didn’t have the ingredients. She wondered whether anyone would be able to taste the urine in it. She decided to press on and plunged her hands into the mixture. She felt a tightness of her breasts as the thoughts of what had just happened drove fear and excitement through her like a bolt of lightening.
The next morning she awoke exhausted having roused several times in the night with multiple orgasms. She had had such weird dreams of being a sex object, servicing people with sex without knowing anything about them. Walking about naked and chained in large houses where many men sat and talked dressed in normal clothes, occasionally stopping to fuck her. She had felt such excitement arising from her role as whore in her dream. She started to fear that maybe these dreams were in fact reality and that she really spent her nights as this man’s sex slave. She didn’t know what to think any more, but every morning she would wake up with a cunt dripping wet and stained sheets. She could not believe how much fluid she produced during these dreams. At least it convinced her that she didn’t actually leave her bed during the night.
That day she travelled up to town to meet her friends for shopping. As usual the train was very crowded and she was standing pressed in on all sides. She felt the warmth of their bodies against hers and as usual this made her feel uncomfortable. Suddenly the voice started. She couldn’t get used to the idea of hearing a voice as if someone was there talking out loud to her in front of all these other people and they not being able hear a word of what was said. She felt the public humiliation from the way he spoke to her. As he spoke the now familiar feeling of arousal started at her clitoris. “Esther, reach round behind you and feel the bulge in the pair of trousers pressed up against your ass. Don’t you realise what a turn on you are to that man. Don’t you think you should do something for him? Reach round now and touch his bulge. Feel how big his bulging cock is, locked away inside his trousers.” Her hand was moving automatically and she couldn’t stop it. Her body knew that if she obeyed him then she would soon be wracked by powerful orgasms the like of which she had never experienced before. Slowly her hand moved round behind her. She rested it on her buttocks and then as the train rattled through the tunnel she leaned ever so slightly backwards pressing her buttocks into the man behind her, and sandwiching her hand between them. Her eyes widened as she felt the strong bulge in his pants. The buzz on her clitoris moved up a pitch and without being conscious of it she parted her legs slightly and arched her head back slightly to rest it against his chest. “That’s very good, Esther. Now I think you owe this stranger something for teasing him so. Pull that zip down and reach inside for his penis. Picture in your mind how thick it is. Picture it sliding in and out of your hot little cunt. Imagine your juices sticking slickly to the sides of his long member as it slides effortlessly in and out of you driving you to ecstasy.” Slowly she drags the zipper down. Her throat dry with fear that someone will notice what she is doing. As she reaches inside his trousers she wonders what this strange man must be thinking of a woman who without invitation reaches inside his trousers and pulls his penis out in a crowded train. Her mind is overwhelmed by the erotic fantasies circulating inside it. Her little hand tries to encircle his massive pole and she realises just how huge it is. Her eyes widen, even though she can only see it in her mind’s eye.
Overwhelmed by the thought of it sliding in and out of her hole, slippery with the juices she can feel on her inner thigh, she starts to pump his penis. She hasn’t been told to do this, but her own fantasies have taken her over and she does not even consider what her hand is doing, lost in her own reverie. Soon she is brought back to the crowded train as she feels spurts of hot cum fill her hand. In shock she realises what she has done and wonders what she can do to avoid everyone from knowing that she has just jacked off a perfect stranger in a train. She stares ahead of her, her mind whirling. She closes her hand around his member to ensure none of his cum leaks onto her coat. Just imagine walking around London with a cum stain on her coat! “You’d better bring your hand round and drink what’s in it before someone sees what you have done.” The voice again, always knowing what to do. She struggles to bring her hand round to the front in the crowded train and she doesn’t want to have to open it. She coughs and brings her hand to her face. Without a moments hesitation she shoots the load into her mouth and gulps it down. It is salty and cloying in her mouth. She feels disgusted as she senses its slow progress down her throat and pools in her stomach. She licks her hand clean and then licks her lips to make sure that every last drop has gone and that she doesn’t embarrass herself with cum dripping from her lips. She reaches back round and puts his member back into his trousers and zips them up again. “We are coming to a station. Don’t turn round until I’ve gone.” Her spine runs cold as she realises that this is the man who has been controlling her. She tries to turn to see him, but the train has reached the station and a great press of people are trying to get off. Pushed this way and that she cannot turn round and by the time she manages all she can see is a large press of people moving down the platform. Which one was he? She tries to guess which one of them she just serviced.
Esther gets off and sits on a bench on the platform. She weeps as she thinks about what she has done, but also feels the frustration, for he hadn’t even touched her. She had been left so excited with his persistent attention to her clitoris, yet for the first time he had left her without an orgasm. She was ready to explode. She sat there pressing her cunt into the cold metal of the bench and parted her legs to ensure better contact with her lips. She pressed down with her arms on either side of her. Her head was bowed as she contemplated what she had just done. She had opened a perfect strangers trouser, gave him a hand job and then drank his cum. She hadn’t been made to do it just the suggestion was enough. She had even licked her lips to ensure that all his seed had made its way into her stomach. She felt sick as she remembered the taste of it and the thought that she didn’t even know what the person looked like, yet accepted to drink his cum.
Once again she found herself berating herself for her actions and unable to justify blaming the voice in her head. There had been no compunction and yet she had willingly complied just to experience that exquisite delight of orgasm. She had to find a way to fight this. She needed to find a way to reach orgasm herself and not be driven into these wanton acts by her own frustration. She marched out of the station and into a sex shop. She had never ever entered a place like this before, but now she knew she needed a dildo with which to satisfy the ache that had been generated in her. As she walked around the shop she looked in amazement at all the toys and magazines there. She couldn’t even guess how to use some of them, but she could picture herself in some of the outfits and that thought excited her. She picked up a whip and wondered what it felt like to be whipped. She shuddered at the thought she could even contemplate it and moved quickly on. She chose her dildo, a silver one. She liked the idea of a large metal column being forced up inside her cunt and vibrating inside her. She could feel she was moist already in anticipation. She also chose a round metal vibrating egg. It had a small chain connected to it, the other end of which was connected to a thin metal belt. She thought of the egg she had held inside her the day before and the idea of having another that would also vibrate deep within her made her excited. She imagined the chain slick with her juices emerging from between her lips and riding up the crease of her ass. She thought of walking about wearing this contraption underneath her normal ordinary looking clothes. It would be her little licentious secret.
On leaving she went straight to a department store and dived into the loo. There in the cubicle she rammed the dildo up her crack and buried it deep within her. She was rough with herself demanding sex from the object and needing to feel release from her pent up tension as soon as possible. When she re-emerged she was flustered but at last she had had several orgasms which had made the whole escapade worthwhile.
The next few days passed much the same way. He would continue to excite her by painting pictures in her head while providing electronic stimulation of her clitoris remotely. She could counter the build up of her desire by diving into a public toilet and bring herself off with her dildo. She carried it everywhere she went, it was just one of the many ways he had changed her normal routine. She also found that she thought about sex and her wet cunt more and more often. Even if he wasn’t pushing her to excess she would still think about the orgasms she had received and the many devious thoughts that he had implanted in her mind seemed to have become more and more acceptable to her. She even caught herself imagining screwing various men she encountered in the street or in shops. She wondered about taking them into the changing cubicles and giving them a blowjob. She remembered drinking her owner’s cum on the train. Why did she use that word owner? The thought of his control excited her, and she was flattered that he had paid so much attention to her. He had wanted her and had gone to such trouble to get her, so in a perverse way she had become flattered. She started to wonder what it would be like to drink the cum of several men in one orgiastic bath of cum. She imagined the slimy fluid smeared over her breasts and face, licking it off her fingers. Would he make her do that too? She hoped so. These thoughts were exciting her and she could no longer tell whether this was autosuggestion or her own deviant desires.