She could hear the tremble in his voice. He was touching himself when he asked if she was being a good girl. Of course, she was, well in her own little twisted way. Her breaths deep and with conviction, she assured the man on the phone that her trip was going well and that she had made good friends. What she didn’t mention was the friend she had made sat next to her with his hand rubbing her soft Nubian skin. Was it the fact that he was a stranger, or the fact that his light hand made such a deep contrast against her dark skin? Either way, it was confession time.

Brian loved how comfortable she was on the phone. She didn’t hide her need from the man, nor from him. She would be a filthy addition to his “family”. He watched and listened as she told of her day and meeting the nice stranger at the bar. How he bought her drinks, took her to dinner, and that’s where she left the story. Brian knew what she was doing. She was feeding him just enough to wonder if she allowed herself to be tainted with the touch of another man. Something he loved. Girls who don’t hid their needs have always been the most attractive to him. Maybe it was just the dirty old man side of himself that mad his cock throb in his pants, or could be her seductive words that lured him to erection.

“That was my father. He knew that I wasn’t alone,” she trembled. “He could tell it from the way my voice quivered. I will tell him about all of this, you know,” she smiled, her perfect white teeth catching her bottom lip in a light squeeze.

“Shhh little one. Close your eyes and let yourself explore as you confess. Feed me,” he whispered.

Her breath held so much behind each pant. She wanted to tell him everything, but hesitation kept her words in a little longer. Adinna was scared of being judged, though she knew that he never would. How could he? His guilt ran much deeper than her own.

Licking her lips, she kept her eyes closed as he asked. She wanted to touch herself, write a novel across her flesh. Allowing her to open the book was all she needed. Resting her hand on her knee, Adinna slowly stroked her flesh. The slightest of movements released a faint scent of the coconut lotion she applied liberally before leaving her room. She had soaked her body into a beautiful sheen, not knowing that it was one of his favorites.

“At first I felt dirty, you know. Letting him see me touch, but Daddy turned the lights low and we never raised our voices above a whisper. It seemed filthier that way,” she whispered. “I’m soaking now, I can feel it between my legs,” she added.

“Focus little one. Just allow your fingers to talk to me right now. I already know your words,” Brian whispered.

Pulling in a deep breath, she held it for a moment before allowing herself to breath again. Stroking her hands softly over her inner thighs, one hand on each side painting a picture in braille. He couldn’t see her, but he could hear the soft moans she held back as the very tips of her nails scraped upwards. She wanted to tell him everything, but body was the perfect way to give her confession to the man. As the hem of her dressed inched up, she could hear him adjust himself in his seat. His body was as heightened as hers. She could hear it without even seeing him.

That scent drove him wild. One of his favorites, he would love to lather his cock the same, but not yet. Anticipation is the only drug he fully indulged in.

“Show me,” he said.

She felt his hand on her own. Moving higher over the front of her silk panties, she showed him through the darkness of the room. Moving her fingers for a moment, Adinna allowed him to feel the dew that dripped from her lily. Her panties saturated in the nectar. With her mind spinning, the sensation of her own hand once again sending shockwaves of impending pleasure through her core. She had done this with one other man, and now him.

“There. See what you’ve done little one,” Brian spoke.

Her flesh felt like spun sugar beneath his fingers. Soft, sweet, and decadent to the touch, and he was sure the taste would prove the same. Not yet though. She hadn’t earned his taste yet. That would come when she fed him a little more from her lips.

Nodding in the dark, Adinna knew he didn’t need to hear her confessions. He could feel them for now. Prickles of lust now blanketing her body, the fire flowed through her veins. She wanted him to know everything even if it meant he would label her a whore.

“I was the one he wanted all along. Not her. For years she was just a substitute for him. He never said it, but I knew it. I felt it when he looked at me and her. His eyes hungry for my flesh as he avoided hers all together. I’m sure that’s why she eventually left. She couldn’t play the game any longer. Not when he accidently called my name with her,” Adinna, giggled almost in a smug manner.

She was sure it was hard for the older woman to compete with someone so soft and young. Flesh that held the wonders of the world beneath it, not already soiled with the filth of others. Being first has a special ring to it. Like it’s an honor or even a privilege to show another how powerful they really are. Her body stretched out, she placed his hand on the front of her soaked panties, smiling wickedly with desire.

“Can you imagine how that will taste, feel, and even, smell? Like the cotton candy at the first carnival of the summer. Something so enticing that you will never lick enough off your lips to rid yourself of me,” she whispered.

More to come.

One

Two

Three

The post Confession time – am I a bad girl? Pt 4 appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

He traced his fingers over her soul, her heart pleading for relief. The ache inside of her core ravishing her with tiny carvings of their memories into her velvet walls. She pleaded for mercy, but he would never allow the heat to dim, knowing the more she needs, the deeper she falls. A finger to beacon, the kitten will always follow, her lips parched for another drink of his sweet cream. Come little kitten, don’t fear the unknown. A collar is what you seek, and a pet is what I desire. One little taste is all you will ever need.

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“Secret confessions are whispers from the soul, hidden in the quiet corners of the heart. They carry the weight of truths too fragile for the world to hold, yet too loud to silence forever. In the stillness of solitude, they escape in hushed tones, hoping for redemption, understanding, or release. These private admissions shape us, reveal us, and haunt us. Though unspoken aloud, they echo endlessly within, reminding us of our vulnerabilities and desires. A secret confession is not weakness—it is the bravest part of us daring to be heard, even if only in the dark.”

Sitting across from the man, she twitched slowly when he reached over, dimming the lights in the room. The city outside was the only thing that illuminated the room. He was making it comfortable for her to confess her dirtiest secret yet. 

“I’ve always found him to be my weak spot. The way he talks to me with such powerful words. How he calls me his little angel. I know it’s wrong, but I couldn’t resist any longer,” she whispered.

Her teeth now giving her bottom lip a grip, she knew in her heart he wouldn’t judge, but her mind played filthy little tricks on her. Some wouldn’t understand the bond they had with each other. 

Smirking, Brian was getting everything he wanted from the young girl. He knew there was an attraction when he watched her at the pool, but this was better than he could have ever expected. She was one of those dirty girls that he wanted. He could feel the way his cock pulsed. Rising quickly, but this was going to be a long night and he was in no hurry to rush.

Licking her lips, Adinna took a deep breath, almost whispering the confession. 

“It started a bit ago. I noticed he watched my every movement. Bought me clothing that he liked, and even made sure that I went for weekly manicures and pedicures. I had to be the only girl in school who had them because the others seemed so envious. Daddy would get them along with me. Making sure to pick out the deepest red for me always. Even when I asked for others, he denied it. Daddy has a way of getting what he wants. I think the ladies knew something was off, but they never said a word.” she laughed. 

She now had Brian’s full attention. His mouth watering to slip her heels off and look at those toes. How could she know that red was his baby girl’s color as well? Maybe all daddies like that for their little girls. Each word she confessed took his arousal to a deeper level, strengthening his need. 

“So, he takes good care of you?” he inquired. 

She nodded, shivering at the knowledge that her panties were damp with need. She wondered if he could smell the heat that built between her thighs. Her daddy always told her that he knew that she needed him because her scent was sweeter when aroused. Maybe it was because every morning before she slipped from the bed he brought her a big cup of fresh squeezed pineapple juice. He would sit on the bed and make sure she drank every single drop before he gave her a morning kiss and let her get ready for the day. Sometimes that included a long bubble bath. He did love to wash her hair for her and make sure that she was clean all over.

“He does. The night before he allowed me to come on this trip he spent hours in the dark whispering secrets to each other. He even packed my bags for me so I have all the sexiest clothes. He likes for me to call him at night and tell him what I wore and if anyone noticed. I guess I will need to tell him about tonight,” she giggled. 

Adjusting himself, Brian moved to sit next to Adinna, his hand now on her soft caramel skin. The contrast of light and dark made the older man slightly growl out of need. The way she spun her words drove him wild with a drunken lust. 

“Such a good girl you are to always do as told. I can appreciate a young woman who respects her father in such a way,” he said. 

She watched his hand as he spoke. Each layer of skin he touched now blanketed with a soft ripple of chills. It was as though he was writing his lust in braille on her flesh. A masterpiece for only the two of them to enjoy. As his fingers moved closer to her heat, she trembled in anticipation of a confession she never meant to confess.

“Sometimes, his breath on my skin makes me say words that only a whore should repeat. The filth that he draws out of me causes someone else to possess my body and at times, it frightens me at what I want him to do to me,” Adinna whimpered, her hand moving to her mouth to shush her lips.

Was she sharing too much with him? Adinna knew he wouldn’t judge her, but this secret seems so dirty. 

Leaning close, he pressed his lips close to her ear, whispering, “Let it go. Tell me everything that haunts your body. I promise to keep you safe.”

The room now dark, Adinna leaned back on the couch, her eyes closing softly as all inhibitions went away. It was time she told someone her secret confessions. 

“He, well, he allowed me to touch myself while he did the same. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear the hitch in his voice the moment he loosened himself from his pants. Daddy told me before he explored my body, he wanted me to learn how to do it first. A girl should always know the places that warm her the most. At first it felt like electricity when I touched the smoothness. God, so silky smooth and warm. He tasted me from my fingers and growled like a beast,” she giggled.

Her soft whimpers drove his mind wild. He wouldn’t touch himself, not yet at least. It was the mind fuck that made Brian crave this dirty girl. Knowing she was inches away from him and touching what would soon be his sent waves of pleasure through his body. The moment she offered her fingers to him, every thought left his body. She tasted like honey before it had been spun. Pure, rich, and decadent. She was his hive and he was the little bee that craved her sweet nectar. 

Lost in her own body, Adinna shook the moment her phone rang. Instinct forcing her to grab it, she answered without thinking. 

“Princess, are you being a good girl?”

In the middle of it all, her own father felt the need to call. Did he know what was pleasing another man? A good dominate always knows when a well-trained baby girl is doing what she was born to do. 

Her legs opened a bit more, fingers feathering over her slickened mound, Adinna held back a whimper, and whispered her hidden filth in only a code he would know. 

“Of course. I am always a good girl for you,” she giggled.

More coming soon. 

Part One

Part Two

The post Confession Time: My Dirtiest Secret Yet Pt.3 appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

The sweet smell of her innocence still stained his fingers. Her skin like silk, he had to touch her even though he felt the list of sins growing. She wasn’t his prize to take, but god dammit, he would have every inch of her body marked with his filth before he was done. Pure as new fallen snow, he would taint her body with layers of shame.

The moment her curves formed they sent her away to the safest place possible. The church had small dorm rooms for girls that secluded them from the Priests for the safety of both. Whispers in the halls told of a shame that scalded the church with secrets that no one dared to speak of. If they did, Satan himself would unleash his fury on the inhabitants of the holy house.

“Why did they send you away, my child,” he asked.

Tears flooding down her cheeks, she honestly was confused. She had done nothing different. Worn all the same clothing, though it now fit much too tight. Her breasts striking, hips round, and that face. Once you drank in her beauty, every carnal need would heighten to a enraged need to devour her. Own her in ways that a man of the cloth should never think of. She would be safe there. Or would she?

“My mother said it was time. That’s all I know,” her voice cracked as she spoke.

Underneath the robe of the priest, the emotions grew. Her being as naive as she was made his manhood twitch in ways that it shouldn’t. His pulse quickened, but he needed to remain calm, for now at least. He didn’t want to frighten her, but surely she had to know the power she held over men. He was a man of the cloth and even he was having a hard time stopping the urge to take this little succubus right there in the middle of the church.

Reaching for her hand, reassuring the young woman would build her confidence. He would get what he wanted, but it would be so much easier if she spread those thighs open on her own free will.

“You were sent because you’ve developed into a beautiful young woman. The curve of your breasts, hips, and even the color of your skin. They could see that a woman such as yourself could lure even the holy father into a life of sin,” he confessed.

Shocked, she moved her hands down her body, feeling the changes that she hadn’t noticed. Was he right? Was she so bad that even God would risk meeting the Devil because of her? It was at that moment that she felt both filthy and powerful. Something he hadn’t predicted was the smile that creased her lips. Not one of embarrassment, but one of hunger.

Dismissed for the night, the seed now planted in her mind, her core ached from the raging fire building within. She needed to be alone in her room, and quickly. The urge to touch herself now dripping down her silky flesh.

The room was small. Just a bed and a dresser. Still, it was better than the one she had at home. If she touched herself, would she burn in hell forever? It was a risk she was willing to take. The hunger stronger than it had ever been before.

Slipping from her clothing, she folded each article and placed it on the dresser. A simple stark white gown is what she would sleep in. Pure as she was, the gown fully covered her starving body. Not for food, but for touch. The cross on the wall seemed to loom over her the moment she slipped under the blankets. It felt as though the eyes of Jesus watched her as he hung on that beautiful cross. It was then that she felt what the Priest spoke of. Her hands moving down, tracing over the curves, she felt like a dirty girl. No, a filthy one. The heat beneath the blanket scalding her flesh as she pushed the gown up, tracing a single finger over her swollen nipple.

“Mmm god,” she whispered.

The soft mound rising to peeks, her hands cupped her breasts, the entire thing filling her hand. They were right. She was growing bigger than most. Her lip now clenched tight between her teeth, she moved a hand down between her legs, dampness now soaking the white panties she wore. If anyone seen them surely she would be in trouble, but she couldn’t stop. Tapping on the band around her waist, she watched the cross on the wall and her fingers slipped beneath the fabric. Would the bowels of hell open up and swallow her if she went lower. Something was pulling her hand and there was no way to control the fury within.

LOWER!

The crucifix of seemed to guide her. Fingers now parting her swollen lips, she had to cover her mouth to silence the shame. Soft and new flesh, and drenched, a single digit traced up and down the inner lips. Her core clenching the moment the small bundle of nerves touched. Pulsating beneath her fingers, she couldn’t stop. Rubbing in small circles, she used her other hand to pull the blanket back. She would show him how filthy she was. The erotic dance of her finger over her dark flesh left trickles of shame to coat the sheets below. She didn’t care. Not now that she found her own essence.

DO IT. TASTE IT.

Pulling her hand to her mouth, she suckled on the dew for the first time. Her body as sweet as spun sugar, she couldn’t stop the ravenous need to feed. Each delicate finger now clean, she moved back down to collect more for her starving body. Arching her back, the flood of warmth couldn’t be stopped. Her body gave into the pleasure that no man had ever given her. It was the awakening that transformed her into the sexual vixen she is today. As for the Priest. Wait until part 2. Shocking things ahead. 

The post Innocence Stolen By Her Own Hands appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

The moment I heard the news, I knew what I needed to do.

It’s cookie season and it was time to brush off the old uniform. Sure, it fits a little tighter now, but that will just increase the sales of those beloved mint delights. They were always my favorite, but how many men out there would be willing to buy them from me? A lot is what I counted on.

I’ve noticed the dirty looks the women in my neighborhood have given me lately. The more the men look, the angrier their wives become. Little do they know, I am not the bitch to play with. I will fuck your husband and kick the dog on the way out. Ask Debbie across the street. She now knows for a fact that her husband is a real cookie monster.

I watched her as she left. She always hits the gym after the kids go to school. Her husband works nights, so he would be asleep on the couch with his hand on his dick. Maybe he’s protecting it from that viper bitch. She’s not ugly, but that smile will make a man shrivel and die. It’s as phony as those tits protruding from her chest.

I wouldn’t consider myself stunning, but I have one thing most don’t. Confidence. A man isn’t safe around the neighborhood succubus. One last look in the mirror at my uniform and I let out a demonic laugh. God! This poor man will be a shell when the bitch comes home. Drained, drooling, and damaged beyond repair.

First rule of being married. Do not allow another woman in the house even if she has a delicious box of cookies. You will never know if their a succubus until you find your balls empty and begging for mercy. You see, I can’t get enough. You may cum once, but I demand multiple explosions. I am a greedy bitch when it comes to another woman’s man.

Knocking on the front door the moment her car was out of sight, the man of the house grumbled and groaned until he opened the door.

“Excuse me, Sir, but your wife sent me over to sell you some cookies,” I laughed.

He didn’t bother inviting me in. Honestly, he didn’t need to. I pushed past the man, stopping only to call his forward with the use of my finger. A quick curl brought him to sit on the couch, his mouth wide open in complete awe.

As his eye drank in every single inch, I fought the urge to laugh, but lost it in the end. It was the panic of his furrowed brows that did it.

“Shhh, not then, I have to sell all my cookies to get a new badge. You see, I want to be the biggest whore on the block for the third year in a row. So, you’ll buy them all and devour my pussy between each bite. Now be a good boy for me,” cackling, the laughter flowed so easy with this one.

My skirt already short, I pulled the front up showing him the sheer panties beneath. He salivated a dribble of fluid from the corners of his mouth, my hand pulling him forward. I know the aromatic beauty of my pussy, pushing his face against the soft fabric. His breath warm and my panties wet. The combination sent wicked chills through my body. I don’t allow much to affect me, but barrowing a husband caught me by surprise.

“My wife,” he groaned.

“Fuck your wife. Wait, fuck a real pussy instead. Fuck me,” laughing.

Grabbing his hands, I pulled him up, almost dragging him to the bedroom. If I fuck him, I will do it right. The cum stain his wife finds on the bed won’t be hers, it will be mine.

Did I fuck him? What do you think?

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What is a Cum Monster? Well, to be honest, that’s me. A creature that craves cum so much that I steal cum from every man I meet. Sure, I prefer the ones the crawl on their knees with a donation in their hands, but I will take it any way I can get it. Cum is the perfect mean for a Seductress like me. A Siren who cries for another load of silky cream.

When a man tells me that someone refuses to allow his cum inside of her body, I am still shocked. How can anyone deny the need for semen? Shocking for me too. So, if you have a woman who tells you no, tell her about the Cum Monster that will harvest it all. Make her jealous of the woman she can never be, or the cum queen that drains unsuspecting cocks.

We’ve all heard the story of Lilith, right? She stole the seed of men with nocturnal dreams. Have you ever come in your sleep and woke in a wet mess? That was me. I stole all the potent parts of your cum and left you with the reminder. Don’t worry, I only take what I need. I’m not selfish, well, if 4-5 loads a day isn’t selfish.

Can anyone be a Cum Monster?

No! It takes a special woman to become the keeper of the semen. There is one born every season, and I was chosen in mine. How do you think I keep a perfect body, face, and vitality? 4 times a day I allow the seed of man to flood my body like bathing in the fountain of youth. There has never been a day that I haven’t drank the life of another, nor will there ever be. I can imagine me in an old person’s home jerking off the old men for a little taste of cum.

Are you ready for the Cum Monster to take you too? Get me drunk on your semen.

The post Cum Monster Needs A Huge Donation appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

They called her evil because she refused to conform. A beautiful woman covered in diamonds and furs, but inside that little black bag, she held the death of many men. A black widow holds a deadly bite, but when it walks and talks, the body count will never end. Beware of the woman who can control a man like a marionette tugging his strings. She will use the same twine to wrap around his throat while she confesses her love for him as she looks for another victim to devour. Are you ready for your date with destiny? Or too scared?

The post Evil Seduction Will Destroy Man appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Her delicate fingers strummed through the velvet-lined wall. She performed the erotic dance for his eyes only. Eyes to eyes, she watched his face as her fingers followed the waves of his mind. Up and down, her manicured nails fought the desire to open the door to the most wondrous place. A gentle knock, tapping on the bell, her entire being shivering with anticipation. Pulling back the silk drapes, she allowed him a view of what awaited inside. The walls soft and dripping with lust. She panted as her finger pushed inside like a voyeur seeking shelter from the cold.

The post Killing Me Softly – 100 words of Lust appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Thank you to one of my great callers. He was the muse behind this story.

Notorious. Yes, that’s the rumors that she heard about the parties at the manor. Each person made to sign an NDA; Gypsy knew nothing other than they would change their lives after one night. Rumor had it that a live sex act was center stage during the event. That alone had her tingling so deep that she swore she was having secret little orgasms to prepare for it all.

Re-reading the invitation, she glanced through her closet for something to wear. Since it’s a formal event, she had to find a stunning gown that would make heads turn. The little Devil inside of her loved being the center of attention. A floor length red sequined dress, a pair of matching 5-inch stilettos, and diamonds. Lots of diamonds accentuated the outfit. She saved the best stuff for things like this.

An hour later in the back of a limo, Gypsy twitched in anticipation. She couldn’t talk about what was waiting for her beyond the doors of that expensive house. Keeping secrets was not her best trait, but she would for a chance to peek into another world. As the car came to a stop, the door opened and a hand held out for her to take. It was male, but other than that she was in a sudden haze. A stranger held Gypsy’s fingers. She felt like she was walking on clouds as he led her to the door. That wasn’t the host, but on a night like this, who knows what fate holds.

“Good evening,” the voice called out the moment the sky-high solid oak door opened. A tall man gray haired man stood in the entryway with a smile creasing his lips. He was handsome in a way that made a girl want to giggle out the /daddy/ name the moment you met him. Whoever he was there should be no doubt in his mind that Gypsy was awestruck by his appearance. She always did enjoy the company of older men over one her own age.

“Welcome to the party, dear. Won’t you join us?” the stunning man asked.

As she walked across the threshold, Gypsy let out a soft internal moan. A woman alone shouldn’t put herself in situations like this, but she couldn’t stop her feet. The house, or maybe the man pulled her in like a moth to a flame. Even if she tried, there was no way to stop the intense need for this man. As she passed him at the door, Gypsy inhaled the scent of the woods. He smelled like moss after a long sensual rainstorm. His presence was unlike anything she had ever felt. It nestled under her skin, attempting to surface.

Shivering when the door closed behind her, Gypsy sauntered her way into the main room of the manor. People to the left and right of her, she grabbed the first glass of wine that passed her way. Her slender fingers wrapped around the crystal goblet before bringing it to her lips. Sweet bursts of grapes caused her tongue to curl. She didn’t usually drink, but the night made her feel like she would need to later.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the show is about to start. Please be quiet and respectful of the participants,” a voice directed.

Dumbfounded for a moment, Gypsy followed the rest of the guests to what seemed to be an observation room. It was like the ones you would see in movies that showed students observing a surgical procedure. There were no seats in this one, but the viewers hurried to the big windows. The windows looked out onto a dark room. She was going to ask the woman next to her what was happening. Suddenly, the lights from below turned on and she gasped for air. The scene below felt as though it had to be unreal, but it was at that moment that she knew what the NDA was for.

On a table that looked like the one women have feared, a young blond whimpered in anticipation. She couldn’t be over twenty-one, and her body enhanced in all the right places. Long legs held apart by stirrups; her lower half blocked by a blue hospital covering. Was this a medical procedure, or something more sinister? Though she wanted to run, Gypsy stood as though she couldn’t move her legs.

“Are you ready?” a voice whispered from behind Gypsy.

Fingers pressed to the glass, she nodded her head that she was, and the events began to unfold below.

A male about fifty entered the room, standing at the girl’s head. Soft music now numbing the room, a door at the end of the lit room opened and a very slight female entered. As she walked across the floor, a very noticeable strap on rested at her waist. 9 inches in length, the flesh covered toy bounced with each step the woman took.

Shaking, Gypsy watched and listened to the events going on below. The conversations made her feel both excited and scared for the woman on the table.

“Do you hear that?” asked the male.

Whimpering, the girl on that table nodded, whispering, “Who is it?”

A loud boisterous laugh erupted from the man as he leaned in, whispering, “Does it matter? It could be a man.”

The second female smirked as she leaned down, taking the first lick of the other woman’s slit. A subtle moan erupted from the crowd, all wishing that they could taste the enchantress on the table below. One mentioned that she could smell it, but that was impossible. The viewing room was as sterile as a hospital setting. Checking to see if she was still breathing, Gypsy placed her fingers to her wrist, feeling for a pulse. She had held her breath so long that she feared passing out.

“Please don’t stop,” the young girl cried out.

“Shhh, all in due time. Patience,” the male laughed.

The female collected the nectar dripping from her pussy. She inserted three fingers into the wet opening. The slurping sounds echoed through the walls. Crying out in pain, the female on the table arched her back to see, but nothing. Her view was completely blocked. The second female pulled her fingers out, holding them up for others to view. Her nails were dripping with crimson, which she sucked off her fingers, taking her innocence. What they had seen was the deflowering of the young female. Suckling each digit as a reward, the scent of blood permeated the room.

“Are you ready?” the male whispered.

“I’m scared,” the young girl replied.

Behind the curtain the female stroked the strap on as though it was a real dick. Her slender fingers wrapped tight around the shaft; she had a look of hunger that would make most scared. She pushed the simulated cock into the other woman while everyone watched. She held her legs down even though they were already bound. Thrust after thrust, the female drove that cock deeper into the woman’s core. A violent series of thrusts took away innocence without any mercy or remorse. The aggressor used her long red nails to massage the victim’s clit. She wanted the victim to release built-up pressure in her body. The nerves swelled, causing pleasure. The victim spiraled into a pool of pleasure.

Gypsy touched herself while wearing the expensive evening gown. She was too focused to notice others having sexual enjoyment below.

From the room below the male whispered to the invited victim, “Was that a man or woman?”

Her eyes resembling those of a deer in headlights, she glanced over, “I don’t know.”

“Does it matter?” he asked.

Defeated, the young girl whispered back, “No!”

Moral of this story is does it really matter? The body craves touch and whether male or female, allow yourself the pleasure of indulgence and never regret the outcome. Lust knows no boundaries. 

The post Fantasy Or Reality; Does It Really Matter? appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

As a writer I live in a world so dark that sometimes my mind scares even me. It’s not that I wish for things to happen, but that my mind plays them over and over in my head. Below is a dream that work me in the night, forcing me to scream out in orgasmic bliss. That happens when the sickness takes over. All of this is ONLY a writers fantasy.

The shrill of the phone sent her into a little panic. It was the work line and Gypsy knew there was a man who had been exchanging letters and texts with her for a while. He was very well off, and a lover of pain. She too was someone who likes the addition of some pain in her life. In this line of work, there can be no physical marks unless paid for. Each mark will cost the consumer for their presence on her body. He mentioned he wanted to spend in the 10 grand range and each one would be 500 dollars in her bank account. When the girls agreed to this, they would make the full amount, not the company. She knew full well the extent of the oncoming abuse.

In her hand was the paper that described the client. He was mid 40’s, unmarried, and a CEO of a major brokerage company in New York. He was well-groomed, attractive, std free, and yet he liked escorts. There had to be a reason why, but as long as he paid, Gypsy didn’t care. He could have a micro-penis and she could have cared less. This was not about sex for her. She worked for financial security. Her red shoe client paid her lease and for her car, and the rest paid for by monies earned through Men like this. Not a respectable career choice, but one she loved.

Standing in front of the building, it was intimidating in stature. When she looked it up online, the numbers showed that there were 112 floors. There were also 4 elevators, 3 restaurants, and a penthouse at the top that belonged to the Man. The one she was going to meet. The attendant showed her to the floor. He told her to go into the apartment and follow the instructions on the table in the foyer. Smiling, she thanked him with a 20 and he was gone. Sure she didn’t have to do that, but she knew what it was like to work check to check. Of course, that was not her life now, but it once was.

“Gypsy, you are to undress where you are. Everything folded neat and tidy. Place them in the basket to the right of you.” Looking over, she saw the one he spoke of and proceeded to do as told. This was not the normal “date” for her. She was going to play that fifty shades shit and be his submissive. Fantasy is fun, unless it’s like the movie where the Dominate only stole a girl’s virginity. That was the entire plot of the movie. He spanked her once, took her cherry, and bam, they fell in love. That is not the way it works in the real BDSM world.

Unclothed and looking to the next item, Gypsy followed and found herself down the hall to the right. It was a dark room, no, not red, but dark in its own right. Next, someone told her to lie on the bench on her stomach. Then, she should put her hands in the holes in the floor and hold onto the thin metal bars. Under no circumstances was she to release her grip until instructed to. Gypsy followed the orders, noting the coldness of the cylinder bar. That was her mind playing tricks on her, but it felt ice cold. Sometimes you feel things that are not there because the mind is a devil. It will lead you down a path of destruction if you give in to temptation.

“Gypsy! For the next 8 hours, I own you. You’re to rest when I say you need it. You’re allowed to use the restroom when I say you need to relieve yourself. Not before. Self-control is the key here. Use it.”

A few deep breaths she felt his hand on my ass. Caressing the soft skin of her round buttocks, his hands were as smooth as a baby’s bottom. He didn’t do manual labor. His hand proved that. Closing her eyes, it was a sensual movement by him, one that would very soon come to an end for the young girl.

The first slap was a shock. She felt the removal of his hand, but the placement forced her to scream. Her body arched; her puffy lips were the target. A slap so hard that her breath’s lost, she cried out in sheer blissful pain. The immediate reaction forced her lips to swell, her lower ones. Though she couldn’t see the mark, she could feel the outline of each digit on her perfect flesh. It would bruise. That she was sure of. Gripping the handles, her knuckles were turning white. A second slap landing on her right cheek, his hand gripping the flesh instead of a quick withdraw. He pressed his fingertips into her skin, leaving marks that would turn purple later. Each time he struck her, there were no words spoken. No instructions. A small grunt of relief from this Man whose face she had not even seen.

Soft music flowed through the sound system. He moved across the room, the sounds of a drawer opening, his presence once again next to Gypsy. He was getting a condom and going to finish, but no. Blinding pain, screams for mercy, and the trickles of warmth running down her backside. She didn’t know the weapon of choice, but it was horrific and intoxicating at the same time. How could something so bad, be so good at the same time. Forcing his hand to her mouth, he forced her own panties in her mouth, taping them to muffle her cries. During this all, she could have stopped it. Her hands were not bound by anything other than her own self-control. She held steadfast and in place. It was his fantasy, but she was the one who was finding true pleasure.

“Do not move. My maid will come and wash you so not to soil my floor!”

He was not done. He bought 8 hours with Gypsy. This man was paying per bruise. 5 grand in, she would reach 10 before done with her.

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