I am currently searching for a subservient female if you care to take a look at my proposal. The summary can be found here. Message me if you are interested.
For my own documentation, this is the reply I gave to his longer post. And for those that read this, know that this was probably a one time deal-- lit's SO MUCH WRITING!! I never write this much, but it was... such a good feeling to write so much for once, and to... really put my all in it, despite how much it felt like I was running a marathon. Note that in shorter responses, I put just as much effort, but this one was... an accomplishment for me lol, even if you don't think my writing is done well.
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Indi found it hard to breathe. The cuffs were uncomfortably tight, and the fact that the lighting cast a crimson wrap around the room didn’t help her keep her fears down. She tried to lie to herself by thinking that the panic was only due to feeling boxed in by the damned red glow. But she knew… it was because of him. He was her… addiction. And it was such a sick addiction at that. He made her his, and yet, he pawned her off to others as if she were a scrap of cloth... a scrap of skin. She felt so drawn to him, so much so that the magical three kisses he bestowed upon her frail neck sent electricity down her spine, made her tremble. The fear showed in her eyes; the desire was in her loins.
The small clicks of the corset’s hooks were like a clock’s ticks toward an impending doom. Now, if she’d thought realistically, she’d realize that she’d made each “click” seem louder by concentrating on it, a pop of sound that matched the emphasis she seemed to put on each hook. Only then, after making each click seem louder than it really was, did the action seem important enough to act as an explanation to why her heart was pounding so hard. If she’d thought realistically, she’d realize that it wasn’t at all the clicks of the corset hooks that made her heart pound, but rather it was his presence. This ritual of dressing her up, and not knowing what was to happen, even though she’d been through this process multiple times before. The onyx colored corset complemented her long, straight hair, and the green accents brought out the hazel of her eyes. He knew how to amplify her beauty. Her breasts lightly puffed out of the corset, though not too much as to give away all that she had before receiving the money for it. Though, that money was not much at all.
Each time he brushed his skin against hers, Indi had to bite down on her bottom lip not to moan. How had he conditioned her to react this way? Oh yes… the other time. As he switched out the corset’s garter straps for the garter with pink and black lace, Indi was brought back to the present, out of her memory. The garter was new, one that she’d never seen before. Meaning… tonight was special. This brought new excitement in her, but also a terrible new fear. She watched as he nimbly tied little bows on the garter to secure it, and gasped when he put his face to her bottom. Her nether lips moistened considerably, and her body strained to keep still. Why was he doing all this? She had closed her eyes to savor the moment, branding it into her inner mind. She swallowed with effort and let out a breath when he let go. Disappointed? Maybe she was… just a little. Her creamy skin rippled with goose flesh when the cold air took his place, and she tried not to hyperventilate.
Seeing him reach for the panty hose, she knew the drill. She pointed her feet like a good little dancer, and moaned when he touched her, roaming his hands over her calves and thighs. Her pussy throbbed, and her mind felt like exploding. “Ahh, please…” She begged for… well, she wasn’t sure what she begged for. More caresses? For him to have more mercy on her, and to stop touching her unless he was going to have her right then and there? He clipped the garter onto the hosiery, and she mentally groaned that he had seemed to hear her thoughts about stopping. The leather mini was then whipped out, and her eyes widened a notch. There was no question about it then: something was going to happen tonight. And it seemed that she was the only one out of the loop, just like in high school when the girls had “forgotten” to tell her that Wednesdays were no longer pajama days. She bit her bottom lip again when she feared the mini would rip down its seams. Though, every time she’d worn it, it’d stood up to the test. It must have been some high quality stitching.
At five foot and six inches, she was relatively average in height, maybe a bit on the shorter side if you asked some really tall people. He’d gingerly taken each of her feet and placed them in four inch spiked heels. They were a dark pink, matching the lace on the garter. But, no one would know until they paid her, right? He had a sick humor. And she knew that he knew, that the shoes would get mighty uncomfortable as the night wore on. Maybe that was just part of his plan. Nothing was done without thought. Not with him. He twisted the key to the lock on her cuffs, and she felt the spring inside the metal give. Her wrists were able to go back down to her sides, and she felt the familiar tingling sensation of having numb limps.
When she saw the make-up, so nicely placed on the counter, Indi wanted to throw those instruments across the room. She was hit with that sick feeling she usually got after being essentially raped by a client, after the euphoric orgasm had worn off. It was that self hate… of having to dress up, put make up on, of being used over and over! Like she was nothing! Anger made tears well up in her eyes, but this wasn’t new. Her anger deflated into a helplessness as she picked up the brush for the powder. She looked in the mirror, and saw not quite dead eyes. They held… maybe a spark of hope… a spark that she should have lost by then. There were dark circles, and a small yellow spot near her jaw line from her most recent client. A fading bruise. To her chagrin, he was not even fined. She fixed all that though, with the professional grade powder. The eyeliner and the lip-liner though, those were from the nearby drugstore. She lined her eyes with “Exotic Noir” and her lips with “Death Wish.” She picked the brightest of the reds, blended the lip-liner lightly, and finished with the gloss. The advertising was a bluff though. Her lips never stayed neat after a single blow job, much less eight hours as they said it would. Her eyes strayed to see his smile, and she couldn’t help it as her heart, once again, made itself known. God damn him. Twice over. May he rot in hell. …And may I be there to serve. Damn him! But oh, the way his body created silhouettes, how the lines drew envy from even her.
As they left the building, he had taken her hand within his. He was warm to the touch, and probably not wanting her to grip his fingers as much as she was. It wasn’t a death grip, but it was certainly a bit tighter than just letting her hand rest in his. It was for his warmth, his intimacy, and really, part of it was for her balance. The heels were already rubbing uncomfortably. Her feet would probably have blisters if she had to walk multiple blocks tonight. That usually never happened though. She usually got picked up within ten minutes. But she took no notice of that, and didn’t attribute it to her beauty or talents. She was trained to believe she was nothing but a puppet.
After finding that she was quite lost, he stopped at a place she’d never been before. She hadn’t known until now that tonight would still involve a client. She believed that maybe this was the night he’d do something to her, just for his own pleasure… and maybe hers. If he permitted. He’d walked her farther than usual, but she supposed the end result would be the same, now that they had stopped, and he had kissed her chastely on the cheek. Would it have hurt him so bad to kiss her on the lips? Ruin that lipstick for one night? The air was cold at night, despite the day being irritatingly hot. It slithered up between her leather mini somehow to whisper to her cunt, and she shifted from foot to foot to warm herself.
He spoke, and left her confused. Freely? He’d never said that before. But he waived at the depressing street, the alleyways, the ugliness of it all, and that was my cue. I gave him one last look—of desperation, of fear, of willingness to oblige, and put my right foot forward to take the first step. And then another. Soon there was a cadence to my step, and a bite from my corset with each beat as well. My nervousness now blocked my senses from the stings coming from the heels. The moment I thought to search for something to distract myself, I realized that there was no purse. No touch up make-up, no condoms. Oh hell… no condoms. And that’s when the sleek Mercedes edged up. And before I could glance back to see if he was still there, which I was sure he was, the tinted window of the Mercedes rolled down to show a few twenties. No face. I had no idea what I was getting into. The seat was covered in beige leather, expensive. Which probably meant he was low-balling me, considering he only put down three twenties when he could afford a few fifties. I hesitated. I didn’t want to go with him, to go with another client. Well, hell, she didn’t even know if it was a he! A strong looking hand reached over to slide another twenty onto the fanned out stack, and Indi bit her bottom lip again in habit. She was never good at making quick decisions.
Anger, fear, anxiousness, and indecision all flitted across her mind. But she didn’t disappoint. She reached for the handle of the Mercedes.
