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.

The post Gypsy found herself lost in her own fantasies appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

I asked if you were ready, and boy did I get a response. So many people loved the thought of having their cum jacked by a harvester. Since I received such a large amount of comments, I decided to write a story about this. (Oh, and someone gave me the perfect ideal for it. He knows who he is.)

The harvest season has begun and for me, I have a craving deeper than I have ever had. Most crave chocolate, coffee, or cigarettes, but not me. I crave the cream of life. That’s just a nice way of saying that I want every drop of cum that I can find. I know, that’s disgusting, but really, is it?

I am what they call a Seductress when it comes to men. My voice can go from the cutest little melody to the most intense bitch to ever slip on a pair of stilettos. Believe me, I have references for the latter, but that’s beside the point. I am here to drain you dry of every drop of cum inside of those tight and throbbing balls. It’s mine after all. I do own it all, but you knew that the moment you touched me. Wait, did I allow you to touch me, or did you find yourself on the receiving end of a sperm theft?

I met him in a bar last night and now, he will forever wander the earth looking for the Goddess who finally made him feel like the man he always wanted to be. Now you know why a drink should never be left unattended at the bar. A quick slip of my Gypsy oil and the fire inside of his loins burned hotter than the sun. Smirking when I found him panting like a dog, all I needed was a curl of my finger to lure him to my private suite. Not even my voice could attract a man like that sweet scent did.

“Come with me,” a whisper called through the wind.

As the door of the spacious room closed with a deafening thud, he dropped to his knees and crawled to the bed. Only stopping to remove his clothing, though he was never asked to do so. You see, a man knows his place when a real woman walks through his soul. Pawing his way to the bed, his body stretched out as he clung to the sides of the mattress. Imaginary binds held him in place as I made my way across the soft carpet. Though padded, the clicks of those 5 inch fuck me heels rattled the silence of the room.

“I want!” I whispered.

Each article of clothing left in my wake, I slithered my way to the bed, ascending from the foot. Fuck, I could smell it. The brewing inside of those growing balls. Dragging my nose up his inner thigh, I buried my face in the soft sac, inhaling deep before a shiver enveloped my entire being. The burning inside of my body growing ravenous I used the tip of my tongue to trace that thick underbelly vein of his cock. Smirking when I reached the top, my mouth hovered over the head of his manhood. Without warning a trail of saliva poured out of my mouth, trickling down the sides. I was fucking salivating for a taste.

“Please,” he screamed.

Laughing, no cackling, my tongue pushed into the perfect slit on the head. French kissing the opening, my eyes never left his for a moment. I was careful not to break the trance. Slurping sounds violently shook the walls of the luxury suite as my mouth moved inch by inch down the soft skin. I wouldn’t stop until my throat held the head captive with pulsating oral muscles. A soft gurgle escaped before slowly moving back to the head of his cock.

“I’m here for the harvest. Don’t move, just feel,” I moaned.

Placing my hands behind my back, fingers lacing, my mouth worked like the suction of a vacuum on his thick member. Gulping, sucking, but never choking, I feverishly forced my lips to leave perfect imprints around the base of his dick. That expensive lipstick was made for a cocksucker like me and I loved leaving my mark. Humming softly, the warmth of my mouth took him over the edge quickly. Screaming as the first bolt of cum hit the back of my throat, his body convulsed in a spasming seizure. He was being harvested and there was nothing that could stop it.

Satisfied for the moment, I pulled back, letting a drop drip from my tongue, “Leave. I have no more need for you.”

As I sat on the edge of the bed pulling the stockings back on, I watched as he scrambled in a haze to leave. Poor thing won’t even remember this tomorrow, but will crave me for the rest of his life.

The post Cum Harvesting: Taking The Essence Of Life appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Note:

In one of my books I write about a girl named Gypsy. Ironic right. It is a mafia based book and this is a piece from the next book. All the names are fiction except one. I thought I would share this piece. Just know, there is graphic sexual content and violence.

The post Gypsy gave it all for the right reasons appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.