littlewaif
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Dec 21, 2006
- Posts
- 642
(Open for one male by private message. I am not "new" to these boards, but unfortunate circumstances required an extended hiatus. This was the project I was in the midst of attempting when I left some months ago. I would be delighted for anyone who's interested to PM me.)
Not a lot surprised the average New Yorker these days, walking down the street. Today, Aimee was a shocking sight to anyone who saw her. Aimee. It had been years since she even thought of herself as anything but "pet," or "slut." She was a beautiful young woman, 23, with a supple slenderness that tantalized, skin like milk which bruised easily (and had been,) and long white-blond tresses. Her eyes where pale, crystal blue and overflowing with tears.
It was the first time Aimee had cried in years. And she was sobbing. This was her final act of submission to Him. Him. The thought of him gave her shivers. Of fear? Sadness? Arousal? There had been an animal magnetism between the two of them. She had only been 17 when they'd met... and that year she had begun her training to live the life of a submissive. She adored him. She hung on his every word. And she learned obedience quickly. Every Master knows that to own a woman, you must break her in some way. Some just leave more permanent damage. Aimee felt like she'd been shattered.
He had been loving sometimes, cruel more consistently, and as years had passed, he became less and less forgiving, or loving. Still, she ached for him, for a warm touch, whether a caress or a bruising blow. He was all she knew anymore... And yet, he had tired of her. This morning he had woken. She had been waiting for him to wake from the foot of his bed where she slept like a pet. Aimee had dressed him. He'd put her on her chain leash, and they'd set off into the city. They'd walked for a long time, him stroking her hair and being generally sweeter than he'd been in a long time.
After a time, he had come to a stop amidst a cluster of tall, corporate glass buildings. He'd knelt next to her and taken her leash in his hand. He secured it firmly to the parking meter and patted her head softly. Level with her eyes for the first time in recent memory, he spoke to her like a human instead of his beloved thing. "I'm done with you. Stay here until someone finds you who can take care of yourself, girl. You don't know anything about the world. You wouldn't survive a second on your own."
And he walked away. She looked after him desperately, watching his back until it disappeared into the crowd. She knelt on the freezing pavement in no more than a thin nightie (not even panties,) and a leash. A small nameplate gleamed at her milky throat. "Kitten." She could have easily undone the leash. But she had her orders. And though they were the last from him she had ever received... she'd been trained better than to deny him.
(Looking for a new Master. PM me with a general character description to join.)
Not a lot surprised the average New Yorker these days, walking down the street. Today, Aimee was a shocking sight to anyone who saw her. Aimee. It had been years since she even thought of herself as anything but "pet," or "slut." She was a beautiful young woman, 23, with a supple slenderness that tantalized, skin like milk which bruised easily (and had been,) and long white-blond tresses. Her eyes where pale, crystal blue and overflowing with tears.
It was the first time Aimee had cried in years. And she was sobbing. This was her final act of submission to Him. Him. The thought of him gave her shivers. Of fear? Sadness? Arousal? There had been an animal magnetism between the two of them. She had only been 17 when they'd met... and that year she had begun her training to live the life of a submissive. She adored him. She hung on his every word. And she learned obedience quickly. Every Master knows that to own a woman, you must break her in some way. Some just leave more permanent damage. Aimee felt like she'd been shattered.
He had been loving sometimes, cruel more consistently, and as years had passed, he became less and less forgiving, or loving. Still, she ached for him, for a warm touch, whether a caress or a bruising blow. He was all she knew anymore... And yet, he had tired of her. This morning he had woken. She had been waiting for him to wake from the foot of his bed where she slept like a pet. Aimee had dressed him. He'd put her on her chain leash, and they'd set off into the city. They'd walked for a long time, him stroking her hair and being generally sweeter than he'd been in a long time.
After a time, he had come to a stop amidst a cluster of tall, corporate glass buildings. He'd knelt next to her and taken her leash in his hand. He secured it firmly to the parking meter and patted her head softly. Level with her eyes for the first time in recent memory, he spoke to her like a human instead of his beloved thing. "I'm done with you. Stay here until someone finds you who can take care of yourself, girl. You don't know anything about the world. You wouldn't survive a second on your own."
And he walked away. She looked after him desperately, watching his back until it disappeared into the crowd. She knelt on the freezing pavement in no more than a thin nightie (not even panties,) and a leash. A small nameplate gleamed at her milky throat. "Kitten." She could have easily undone the leash. But she had her orders. And though they were the last from him she had ever received... she'd been trained better than to deny him.
(Looking for a new Master. PM me with a general character description to join.)
