| Tongue-Tied
January 24, 2007
I awoke seated within my fireside chair with wrists secured with braided pink ribbons laced around its arms. I could not see to what my thick ankles were bound to. I felt very unlady like with my thighs gaping open wearing only my thin, nearly transparent yellow floor length night gown. It was difficult to decide whether i was more afraid than angry.
Wondering who would do me this way, yet at the same time knowing that it was Whomever keeps coming into my condo, when i'm away at work. Whomever it is, well, i've already thrown out four pair of panties that someone has cut a rough circle out at the crotches. Again, upon seeing that, i didn't know if i were more afraid about my ruined panties, or angry that Whomever was doing that hadn't used a donut or something to guide the scissors... Men very much dislike messy panties, as do i. Believe it or not, my granny style white cotton work panties are far more expensive than the department stores colorful ones. For example, i must work for one hour to pay for three pairs of whites, VS, working twenty minutes to pay for one pair of the transparent, colourful and/or fancily designed ones. Not much difference, but then again there is when they must be worn under my white uniforms. No, smart aleck, i'm not in the Navy!
Those thoughts were intermingled with the pain within the strongest muscle of my body. My neck ached too as my head was leaned back from what felt like, my chin being cupped upwards by a horse's stirrup. I did not like the growling coming from behind me. I could not distinguish if it were Man nor Beast. All i could think was, 'DON'T Move!'
Wishing i had turned on the flames of my electric fireplace in my bedroom, i sat uncomfortably speechless blind within that room's gradually chilling darkness. I distinctly remembered having locked and latched my front door, upon returning home from work, prior to showering with jetting hot water....and foamy lilac soap. Immediately following, i slipped into my night gown, sat on the chair, before deciding to watch American Idol. I must have drifted off to sleep while thinking about the Devotions i used to do for and about my Young Dom.
That pleasant thought helped to relieve some of the pain, at the center of my tongue. There was sweet tasting blood trickling down my esophagus causing me to cough a little. As i lifted my weary, heavy tongue upwards, it felt as though the cain attached through it could be my golden fine chained necklace i sometimes wear to complement the gold necklace with inlaid rubies that my Young Dom gifted me with...but, no! That too was hidden within my sheer black nylons placed deep within my cedar chest at the foot of my bed....'NO!,NO!,NO!...ONLY YOUNG DOM May place those upon me...no one else is allowed to claim me!' This time, the fear of losing Young Dom over rode my angry feelings about someone who possibly had not washed his hands had had the gall to touch my sacred Gift of His Love, towards me. In the past, He told me that if ever anyone else knew of what W/we had within the privacy of O/our R/room, behind Closed D/doors, He would never speak to me again. He solemnly did promise that to me!
Yes, i have tested those waters, so to speak, but not to the extent of ever having another man nor woman, within O/our R/rooms. Never, have i slept with anyone nor shared dreams within my condo, other than with Young Dom. That is where W/we drew the L/line. Reflecting, i think Young Dom would have preferred that i be viewing Simon Cowell's evaluations of American Idol contestant's, along with its other Judges Randy and Ms. Abdul.
My tongue touched the roof of my mouth as my nightgown was being slowly lifted to my upper, soft, fleshy thighs. The warm saliva from the thick tongue tracing the goose bumps from my ankle to my groin were soon feeling icy cold. The night's cool breeze forced its way into my vagina as latex gloved, warm hands forced open my lips. Sections of my auburn, wavey haired mound were deliberately plucked out, one at a time. Not being one to scream and cry, as most American women are not, a kind of yelping escaped my mouth... This only encouraged the perpetuator to put his head up under my gown and begin to play with my flaccid right nipple, as he scooped some of the cold viscous saliva from behind my kneecap and was pounding it into my by then wet cunt.
I was horrified and angry as i realised both my peanut shell sized bruising nipples were erecting from this Rapist's most despicable terrorizing actions. But, worse, far worse than that, was hearing His dog yelp as He pushed it away from His Proud Cock, passing it quickly past my nostrils flaring from His Manhood's Aromas, attempting to force it into my tiny, cramping vaginal walls. He "Umph, grUmph, Umphed" until It was squeezed into me, as far as it would go...i felt my intestines shift to make room for It.
Now screaming, realising that i was as a female dog who could not shed herself from her mate's slimy oversized dong...i held onto thoughts of Devotions, begging with words trapped inside my head, feeling my tongue tearing as i fought not to choke from my own sweetness...the blood running warmly down my neck, hearing tongues lapping across my pendulant breasts for It....fantasizing being a bitch whose vaginal muscles will not let go the Stud's Penis until she first orgasms...
Tears of shame flowing from my reddened blue eyes, burning into my half sliced tongue, now feeling as though the animal within my soul has escaped, leaving its mark upon me now with forked and eternally tongue-tied.
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