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Introduction:

I'm a bitch. A 19yo cruel dyke lesbian bitch, and I target middle-aged married women
I’m a 19 years old bitch. A cruel, dominant, lesbian bitch. If you’ve read the account of my first “adventure” with a married woman, you’ll already know I’m a nasty piece of work and how I did what I did.

‘Persuading’ her to lay over my knee and count aloud the strokes of her first lesbian spanking.

Getting her to stand up, remove her dress and panties, then to lay back down over my knee.

Spanking her bare ass to a nice ruby red, before my fingers started probing her wetness.

Grabbing her hair and calling her a slut and then dragging her into her own bedroom.

And how my big bag of “toys” and my sick, twisted mind intended to continue the “fun”.

…………………..

I love inflicting sexually torment on other women. Middle-aged, married women. They may be older than me, but nowhere near as worldly and wise. And I love being the one to teach them a lesson. Confounding their instincts. Clouding their judgement. And then subverting their morals.

I reason that if a mature, married woman allows herself to fall into the clutches of a teenage girl and ends up being hers to control, then she must be a natural-born loser, and fully deserves all she gets.

But truth be told, it’s getting a bit freaky. I’ve done it several times now … befriended some naïve woman, disarmed her with charm and feigned innocence, and then turned around and dished out my own brand of sadistic perversion … but not only can’t I seem to stop, I think I’m getting worse.

It’s because I get off watching my victims squirm as they humiliate themselves. It makes me as horny as fuck to see them writhe in the bitter sweet throes of orgasm. Self-inflicted orgasms, after they’ve been ‘encouraged’ to try out my various ‘implements’. It’s all the better, knowing the action is being filmed. I can replay my favourite bits over and over. Of course, there’s another reason why I record all my “sessions”. The two most naïve and richly exploitable ones … Shelly and Anna … were easy to blackmail once they knew their self-violations were now a sickening home-movie. High-definition evidence of the depths of depravity to which they all too readily sank. And with both now at my beck and call and recurrent visitors to my wretched sex hell, with several movies to prove it, their bodies and their husband’s substantial bank accounts will be at my disposal forever…

………………………

But allow me to take a few steps backwards ……

Ever since leaving high school, I’ve looked for women who show signs of timidity and weakness. Then I single them out. Stalk them. Learn their routine. Accidentally cross their path. Become a familiar face. Exchange pleasantries. Make them laugh. Get chatting. All but one, who I let get away, proved to be pathetic specimens, susceptible and weak. All were married and middle aged, and totally lacking in the capacity and intelligence to recognise and rebuff audaciously blatant advances.

And so, with the cold-hearted stealth of a poisonous viper, I’d slither in and callously befriend them.

From there it’s an easy step to contrive to pay them a visit when I knew they’d be home all alone. When “hubby” is away. When their children are elsewhere. When there’ll be no interruptions.

That’s when my charm turns outrageous and sexual persecution. A step-by-step arrogation.

Brashness. Audacity. Temerity. Rudeness. Contempt. Ridicule. Manipulation. Control.

And when they realized they are in the presence of an evil lesbian bitch … a strapping, 6 foot 6, evil lesbian bitch who was now bossing them around in their own home … it’s too late.

I love it. Getting physical. Pushing them around. Making them sit with my hands on their shoulders. Then making them stand, only to back them into a corner. Growling in their face, informing them they’ve turned me on, and that I’m really a lesbian. A sex-crazed, dominant lesbian. A cruel, psychopathic lesbian mistress. Now their mistress. Their perverted mistress who is so horny she can’t help herself and, like it or not, is now going to strip them, misuse them and fuck them.

And the satisfying part, where self-congratulation is due?

When my sneaky bitch fingers find their way to their pussy, they’ve all been wet with arousal.

I love that too. Knowing my command and authority has brought out their true colours.

Knowing they’ll soon be doing my bidding.

Using my toys to heap shame on themselves.

Orgasming in full view of my blackmailing camera.

Oh, yes, I collect weak, middle-aged married women like some people collect stamps.

But in my game, it’s my pussy which receives a good licking.

And I love it.

…………………

My first adventure was Mrs. Marelli, who I met through my job at a travel agency. I contrived to visit her when she was on her own, on the flimsy pretext of showing her a cruise pro-mo video. But what flickered into life on her TV screen was a nasty little video I’d found by accident in a second-hand back-street store. It was probably illegal, but was soooo damn hot, with scenes of perverted sex torture which do it for me every time. I obliged her to sit and watch the whole thing, but it didn’t really do it for her. It turned out OK though, because it was only the first part of a successful ploy to get her naked and over my knee. That, and what happened after, did do it for her…. For us both.

It was the beginning of the creation of my own series of nasty little videos.

………………..

I lost my job at the travel agency shortly after. It was a shame, because there had been a long, boring ‘apprenticeship’, and the environment was fertile ground for my idea of rich-pickings. But I’d started taking time off, and breezed in late once too often, and that was the end of that. It didn’t matter too much, because I now had Mrs. Marelli on a string, and her husband’s bank account on tap. But it soon became apparent he wasn’t as rich as I’d hoped, and although Mrs. Marelli and I had established a clearly defined ‘understanding’, she was getting spooked at syphoning too much my way. I’m far too smart as to kill a golden goose, so I actively started looking for others.

So, with weak, timid women on top of my shopping list, I began frequenting the local mall.

That’s where I spotted Candice and immediately wanted to have her. I was lucky she was my second “adventure”, because it taught me a valuable lesson about the importance of doing some research and being a lot more discreet. Back then, I was far too impulsive for my own good, and was foolishly reckless and aggressive at our initial encounter. She had a state-of-the-art alarm system in her purse, and she’d pressed its ‘trigger’ several times. Apparently, it’s activation would have brought the wrath of God down on my head. Being super-rich, her personal security constantly monitored her whereabouts and safety. On that day at the mall, it was by sheer luck that the alarm didn’t work and I wasn’t busted and charged. Candice wouldn’t dare grass me up now, though, having had a small taste of what I can do.

But back to that first meeting. There she was. A cute, blonde, 5 foot nothing, early 40’s, bubble-assed airhead. She reminded me of a certain comedy actress as I watched her making her way along the covered shopping precinct, dawdling, looking in every window like she had all the time in the world.

Bored. That was my first and correct assessment. Lots of time and nothing to do.

I was going to pick her apart at the seams …..



“Hi”, I breezed, when I’d sidled up-side her as she stared aimlessly at some colourful dresses hung in a large, brightly lit shop window.

“Hi”, she echoed after the briefest of glances, seemingly not caring to whom she was speaking.

“Any one of those would look good on you”, I pressed, “Any particular one in mind?”

“No,” she sighed, her vacant tone telling me all I needed to know.

“I bet you’d like to know what I have in mind,” I teased as I stared at the side of her long, flowing blonde locks.

“Excuse me?” she asked with a hint of mistrust but seemingly intrigued for more.

I smirked at not receiving a direct rebuff or rebuke. She was so small at my side I had to bend at the waist to whisper my scheme in her ear.

“I was thinking, if you wanted to try one of those dresses, you’d have to take this one off … that’s what I was thinking,” I breathed, as two of my fingers gave her shoulder-strap a pinch and flick.

“Oh!”, she responded, almost in a squeak.

“And I’d love to give you a hand.” I continued, in my breathy voice of seduction.

“Oh,” she squeaked again, this time giving me a slightly longer glance before her eyes cast down at the floor.

“You know what that’d mean, don’t you?” I posed, as I gently laid my hand on her shoulder.

“No.” she replied with a gulp.

“It’d mean you’d have been stripped of your first line of defence, with only your bra and panties left to protect you.”

“No, I …” she started to gibber, realising I wasn’t as innocent as she first thought.

“And I doubt they’d protect you for long. Not with a determined lesbian caressing your neck.” I taunted as my hand lifted from her shoulder, and my fingers briefly massaged the nape of her neck before gliding up into her hair. When her only resistance was a shiver as she anxiously fiddled with her purse, I made my first bold move. I seized a chunk of her flowing blonde locks and resolutely pulled her head backwards, causing her gaze to lift from her dangling purse and into the brightly lit window. “See that sexy red number there, the one with the transparent top and tight hot-pants?” I challenged, as my hair-pulling fingers steered her gaze in its direction, “Well, you and I are going inside and I’m going to help you try it on, yes?” as I see-sawed my grasp, causing her head to nod ‘yes’.

“OK,” she croaked, obviously resigned to doing the bidding a female almost twice her size who had a firm grasp of a chunk of her hair.

“And no funny business, right? …….. Right?” I double diced as I gave her hair a sharp tweak and was relieved to feel a slight nod of acceptance.

“Come on then … lets go,” as I gave her head a final push forward, then held my arms out like a corral, where the only exit was towards the shop entrance.

……………

“This lady would like to try the slutty red outfit in the window. Can you arrange that?” I asked of the starchy, snooty looking bitch who came over to serve us.

“Certainly, Miss. And what size would Madam be?”

“Just bring the damn kit that’s in the window, and we’ll take it from there, OK?” I barked.

Trying it on was not the real idea of this exercise, and I didn’t want to waste my time.

“Bring it to the changing room. And quickly. We’ll be waiting,” I continued to dish out instructions.

As the heavily made-up, toffee-nosed, pompous, mid-40’s looking floorwalker breathed a kind of ‘huff’ sound and scuttled off. I ushered my soon-to-be-naked captive into a booth at the furthest end of the changing room.

“Stop fiddling with that damn purse,” I barked. “Put it down and lift up your arms. Come on, straight up, do it now.”

“But I … what’s ……. why…?” she gibbered.

“Cos like I said outside. I’m going to help you remove that piece of rag you call a dress so you can try on something much more attractive and sexy, and we don’t want to keep the sales lady waiting, do we?”

“But I .. it’s just that …” she flustered.

I couldn’t help it … I snapped … I put my hand around her throat and pushed her against the wall.

“Listen up close, you dumb bitch. By the time that snooty sales-cow gets back, I want you naked, understand.”

“But…”

“I hate smug bitches like that, and we are going to have some fun at her expense, got it? Now put your arms up.” I gave her throat a tweak before I released her, and her arms then shot in the air.

“Good girl,” I oozed, as I bent down and grabbed the hem and hoisted it over her head. “I told you I’d give you a hand.” With her now standing before me in flimsy, lacy matching yellow bra and panties, I couldn’t stop myself licking my lips. “Almost there,” I cooed, as I did a circular motion with my pointed down finger. Her little legs did a shuffle, and she presented her back to me. I must admit my fingers were trembling as they unfastened the clasp of her bra, and I flicked the straps to either side. “Take it off and then stand up straight,” I ordered, surprised at how easy we had come to this point. I had to stoop down low to hook my thumbs in the waistband of her panties, and had to drop to my knees to release them from her stumpy, short legs. “Turn around and let me look at you,” I instructed, as I remained on my knees, my hands giving a prompting twist of her thighs. When she turned around to face me, I was ecstatic at the sight now before me. A slight paunch of a belly for sure, but her cleanly shaven pussy was mere inches from my face, and when I looked up, her breasts were nearly as firm and ample as mine.

“Knock, knock,” spoke the practiced and condescending voice of the sales bitch.

“In here,” I beckoned, as I reached across and whisked the modesty curtain fully to one side, causing both women to have a sharp intake of breath.

“What, you never seen a naked woman before?” I mocked at the stunned and goggle-eyed sales-bitch.

“No, its …. I didn’t expect,” she started, clearly embarrassed at the scene before her, with her customer fully naked and me kneeling in front with my hand on her thigh.

“Do you think her camel-toe would be visible through the tight shorts if she went commando? It’s quite a pussy she has here.” I sought, knowing it would compound her embarrassment.

“It’s not for me to say, miss,” was her stock answer, obviously well practiced at deflecting awkward questions.

“But it is for you to say. You’re the professional. Come in and take a closer look. In fact, kneel down here with me and tell me what you think. She has quite a nice pussy, can’t you see?”

“I can’t … “ she began, then softened her stance, “I’m not really allowed to … “

“Allowed to.” I echoed, then challenged, “You follow every rule? Get down here and take a look,” I pressed, grasping the sleave of her jacket and pulling downwards.

“No, I can’t, I mustn’t. I’ll get in trouble,” but even as the words were coming out of her mouth, her knees had started to buckle, and next thing you know, she’s kneeling right down just beside me.

“Isn’t this one of the nicest pussies you’ve seen in your life,” I asked, as my hand stretched out as if to touch. When my fingers grew near, my new captive flinched as if to back away.

“I said there’s to be no trouble, or did you forget?” I barked as I shot up onto me feet. Again, she flinched at the sudden threat of me towering over her, but she remained where she was. The sales-bitch also made a move to stand, but I placed my hand on her shoulder. “You haven’t told me what you think. Well, what d’ya say?”

“I’ve not seen enough, erm, you know …. to compare,” she quavered, realising I now had some control over her.

“Would you like to compare it with mine?” I asked as innocently as I could through my evil smirk, as I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my own slacks.

“No,no,no, I didn’t mean ….” she scrabbled, plainly panicking at where this could be going.

“Oh, come on, just a quick peek. You need two to compare.” I oozed, playing on her obvious discomfort.

‘No, please, no, I…. “ she began to plead.

“Yes it is then, you dirty little minx,” as I wiggled my butt and slowly eased down my own slacks.

Being big in stature, I was destined to have a pussy to match. My genes have gifted me a big, meaty pussy, which has a permanently bulging clitoris and large inner lips which have always protruded quite far. Several times I have been told my love-bundle looks incredible erotic, being as it makes me look permanently aroused. So, when I eased down my slacks and panties in front of this sales bitch still on her knees at my feet, it came as no surprise to hear her very openly gasp.

“It seems you like what you see,” I mocked at her hapless display of astonishment and awe.

“I … I … I …” she stammered, completely at a loss for words.

It was at that instant in time I decided I was going to have this snooty bitch. Not now. Not today. But soon. Normally, I’d feel nothing but contempt for a pretentious, stuck-up cow like the one now kneeling before me. But seeing the look in her eyes … lingering … transfixed … fascinated by the grandeur of my impressive love-bundle, she’d just booked herself a place on one of my very personal and exacting sex sessions……. I began imagining her on her back as I straddled her face, lowered my gaping wet pussy onto that gibbering, hoity-toity smart mouth. Bringing her close to suffocation to show her who’s boss. Knowing that when I eased up to allow her to breathe and then give the order, her tongue would intently go to work, licking my clit, lapping my juices, trying to appease her domineering and strict teenage mistress.

I shook my head to break the erotic reverie. I was getting way ahead of my-self and getting side-tracked. It was time to retake control.

“You can leave us now,” I said flatly, as I clicked my fingers and wafted my hand towards the exit. ”Quickly, come on, we haven’t got all day.”

I couldn’t help but smirk as the sales-bitch scrabbled to her feet and made as if to leave, her haste indicating she was relieved to get away from the sinister and unpredictable situation I’d engineered. But it was time to apply more discomfort.

“Haven’t you forgotten something?” I demanded as she was leaving the booth.

“I’m sorry?” she asked anxiously, having been halted in her relief-filled hasty retreat.

“Your manners, woman.” I pointed out. “When I ask you to do something, you’re supposed to acknowledge my request, yes?”

The wide-eyed and now unnerved sales-bitch visibly gulped as she gave a slight nod of her head.

“So, my attendant and servant,” I pressed, “what do you say?”

“Yes, miss,” she mumbled, realising the new connotation of those two little words.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite hear you. What was that?” I urged, intimidating this shrew even more.

“Yes, miss,” she said quite clearly, but patently addressing the floor.

“Look at me,” I barked as a direct order. “No-one will hear of your disgraceful behaviour if you make sure my naked slave here and myself are left undisturbed for a while, understood?”

“Yes, miss,” she rasped, in a tone which revealed she’d now grasped the situation. She just been fucked over and tied up in knots, and knew she’d better damn do as she’s told.

………..

When she’d gone, I turned to my naked and shivering hostage who was clearly traumatised and dumbstruck at what had just transpired before her very eyes.

“Just you and me, now, babe,” I taunted. “Time for some fun.”

She had her loosely clenched fists held up to her cheeks and was slowly shaking her head.

I’d never paid much attention at school. I only took an interest in things I could use. But for a while I was a regular visitor to one particular section of the library and studied the books very closely……. Body-language.

“You look to be a bit overwrought, my sweet little pet. Was it something I said?” I oozed, sweet as sugar, as I stood in front of her quaking body. “I think we should go home soon, don’t you? It’s been a big, big day for you, hasn’t it, my pet?”

Her clench-fist encased face ceased its head-shaking ‘no’ and commenced a definite slow head nodding ‘yes’.

“Well I’m just going to take a quick look inside your purse to see where we need to go, and we’ll soon be on our way. That OK?” I continued my saccharine- sweet declaration.

She remained standing like a shivering statue as I emptied the contents of her purse onto the bench-seat. There seemed to be nothing special, just the usual pile of women’s paraphernalia and a cell phone. Her drivers permit revealed her as Candice, and I took a sharp intake of breath at seeing her Park Avenue address. There were no keys or cash to be seen, just a couple of platinum credit cards and some kind of electronic gismo I’d never seen before, which instinctively raised a red flag.

“What you got here, babe?” I soothed, “Some kind of remote for a car?” I closely observed her eyes glued to the little device as I twirled it through my fingers as she nervously shook her head.

“Remote for the house?” caused the same light nervous shaking.

“Some kind of GPS tacker?” caused a bit more of a reaction.

“An alarm? Some kind of security alert?” caused her head to shake so vigorously I thought she may stumble and fall.

“What, babe? You been calling for help when we’s outside having a chat?” I sought, already knowing the answer. “But nobody’s done shown up, honey,” I mocked in my best ghetto accent. “Your pretty little ass is all mine.”

She snapped her head to look away, and there was no mistaking her female gasping sob.

“Aw, don’t be sad, girl. I’m not gonna hurt you. In fact, I have the opposite in mind. You gonna get some good loving, babe. I know you gonna enjoy that,” I teased, knowing she was terrified at what may happen next.

…………..

Unfortunately, to my total annoyance, what did happen next was her cell started beeping… and beeping … and beeping. I looked at it and then looked at her, and she turned her head to face me.

“Tracker,” she faintly croaked in a rasping, almost apologetic dry voice.

“They done figured your alarm’s not on line, and looking to check you’s OK?” I posed.

Her clenched-fist framed face gave a slight couple of nods, and I knew she was now a lost cause.

“How long?” I asked, knowing that someone would very soon come looking.

She gave a very slight shrug of her shoulders.

“An hour?” …. She shook her head.

“Half an hour?” … She shook her head.

“Like, ten minutes?” … and she confirmed my worst fears, and grimly started nodding her head.

“OK,” I conceded, believing she was too scared to screw me around, “I’m going to go now. But you must stay here exactly as you are so your friends know just where to find you. That OK?”

Again, she gravely nodded agreement. I knew that even though she was virtually paralysed with trauma and turmoil, as soon as I left, her faculties would undoubtably drift back.

“I really liked the dress and underwear you were wearing when we came in, so I’m going to take it with me, OK?” I stated, with no intention of there being other options, “But I’m going to send the sales lady in to measure you up for a brand-new, complete head-to-toe outfit. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Again, quite blankly, she nodded consent.

I cruelly picked up the cell phone, her dress, bra and panties and left her standing naked in the changing booth, with the contents of her purse still strewn across the bench seat. As I walked across the shop floor, I surreptitiously discarded her garments behind a display sign, being they would be of no further use. I then approached the sales-bitch who had fled our previous “uncomfortable” encounter.

“When I said leave us for a while, I didn’t mean the rest of the week. Are you able to attend to us now?” I berated in mock irritation, preserving my aura of intimidation.

“Yes, Miss,” she answered, with anxiety you could cut with a knife.

“The lady is waiting for your services … When she leaves here, I want her to be fully satisfied and wearing the best of everything, OK?” I snarled.

“Yes, Miss.“ she assured.

“I have to go now, but I’ll be back in a couple of days for some new panties, and I want you to attend to my very personal fitting. That OK too?” as I continued to stare the bitch down.

“Yes Miss,” she replied with a gulp.

“Good, ‘cos we both know your place is on your knees at my feet”, I baited …… “Now, this is her cell. Some of her friends will be here soon. Hand it to them when they show up, saying you wanted to keep it safe, got it?.”

As she took hold of the cell and nodded acceptance of this grave responsibility, that’s when I started to growl ….

“And listen up close … If there is any mention of me being here and causing any kind of upset, then the word ‘regret’ won’t even come close, understand?”

“Yes, Miss,” acknowledging the threat with another big gulp of dry air.

“And look”, I taunted as my hand started blatantly see-sawing my crotch, “We wouldn’t want anything to spoil our budding friendship, would we? Not now we both know you want to do what I’m going to force you to do,” I purred, as her bulging eyes remained locked onto my stroking flat hand as I teased her for several long seconds.

“Now go,” I snapped, causing her to jump out of her transfixion and her knees to nearly buckle before she turned and wobbled off towards the change-rooms.

As I watched this snooty, pompous, goody-two-shoes, stuck-up bitch totter away, almost in a stagger as she awkwardly tried to keep her knees close together, I grinned like a Cheshire-cat at seeing her body-language sell her out. If probing bitch fingers were to dipper-stick test that la-di-da pussy right now, for sure she’d be sopping wet with arousal. But with the rich-bitch’s security goons on their way, her subjugation and complete humiliation would have to wait. But I know what I saw, and the moment of truth when she’s put her place was patently well overdue.

…………………..

I breezed out of the shop, along the corridor and took the emergency exit out into the back laneway. I stood half-hidden beside a dumpster with my back against the brick wall, with my chest heaving and my heart thumping in my chest. As I reflected on what had just happened and what I’d just done, I realized it had been a close call. Then a huge smile broke out across my face, which led to prolonged and uncontrollable laughter. Stupid bitches, I thought in between fits as I fought for breath. One it buck-naked and the other will be fawning all over her, panicking that her only clothes have gone missing, and knowing some of her friends were about to show up. But if they let someone else take control then they deserve all they get, and unlucky for them … that someone had been me.

As my mirth died away, my hand sneaked down to my aching pussy and gave it a few hard rubs. No, not here, I silently chastised, as I forced myself to stop. All that adrenaline had made me as horny as fuck and now I needed some release. But then a sadistic urge started building. An inner feeling of being cheated out of winning a jackpot began to wash over me, and a growing impulse to hurt something … someone …. bad …. was pervading every fabric of my being. I needed to watch someone suffer, to feel the full force of my pent-up sexual rage. I wanted to see someone squirm and writhe as I dished out some seriously perverted sex-torture.

I reached for my cell ……

“Hi, Mrs Marelli. You at home alone for a while? I feel a bit down and need some company … so he’s away until tomorrow then?...... Perfect! See you soon.”

I couldn’t hide my evil grin as I slid into the taxi and gave my home address.

I needed to swing by to get some rope and my blades ….

Along with a few other “items.”

…….
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