I just played an RPG http://spankingadventures.webeden.co.uk, a ‘choose your own spanking story’ set in a mystical mansion outside of time where you start as a slave with the possibility of progressing to Mistress; the ultimate goal is to become Supreme Mistress, but it could be GAME OVER any time. It is a very detailed, long and varied RPG; it took me over 2 hours to get this far and I read very fast (so far I’ve reached Mistress level).
I really want to stay as Mistress in that mansion, until the end of time.
But I could not forsake my Egyptian palace for it, and my responsibilties there.
Now, back to the actual stuff that really happened:
Roland was lying on the floor of the studio for some reason and I was sitting on top of him, naked except for the purity ring, bangles and maybe a necklace. I don’t know how this happened – maybe he was lying next to me and I just clambered on him? I think I said that he couldn’t get up with me sitting on him. Anyway, he had clothes on which continued to irritate me, but I was equally afraid that if I took them off he would be all wobbly rolls of fat, undulating and bobbing slickly under his skin.
We were talking about some stuff and I began to thrust in a rolling sort of motion, first sitting and then with my weight equal on all four limbs; at first I was gentle, then harder and squeezing my thighs as each thrust was completed. I imagined that he was mine, to torture and to dominate at my pleasure.
“If we were in my palace right now, I could torture you,” I said. This amused him, but I can’t remember what he said.
I blindfolded him. Then I jumped off him to get the whipped cream, climbed back on and squirted the cream in his face, giggling, and then in his mouth, forcing him to eat it. “That’s for being a millionaire,” I said, rocking now, “I don’t like rich people.”
A little while later, being puzzled why he wasn’t getting hard, I asked “Why isn’t this working?”
“Because I know that’s your kink,” he replied, still eating the massive wads of cream, “And I’m not going to let you have it. And I don’t have much of a submissive side.”
“Wait – you can control it? All men can?”
“Yes, except in very few situations,” he said.
“I can’t – at all. I wonder why – but I guess women are just more sexual. We’re multiorgasmic.”
“Well, yes,” Roland said in a very educated tone, like there wasn’t a naked hooker dry-humping him on the floor of a studio, “I think that’s it.”
“But in some situations it would work, like how you can control yourself not to come but sometimes you couldn’t control that.”
“So if I wanted to, I could tie you down and do this and rape you and force you to impregnate me.”
He chuckled. I was moving backwards and forwards this whole time and it was having no effect. “Well, no, because of something called the pill.”
“Yeah, but if I wanted to get pregnant. I could force you.”
“Well, yes,” he admitted, still swallowing Kalika-cream, “you could.”
I licked the cream off his face.
Then he drove me to his house. On the way out of his studio and on the drive, I found out that he wasn’t disappointed that I would’ve done it for less, because he wouldn’t have wanted me that many times if it had been for less (and neither would I; I hadn’t envisioned 8 times at all till he said it at the restaurant.)
I also found out that if I’d said my student debts were 12k he’d just want to see me more, so it would’ve been the same, as we might do more than 8 times anyway – well, actually, it would’ve been less as he’d have wanted 15 times for 12k so it wouldn’t be a k a time. So, I’m really happy about that! It was important for me to know that. I don’t think Roland realised it was important for me to know that.
He can’t grasp how much I love money.
As we neared his house, I knew which one it was, and I was correct. Sometimes I’m just slightly psychic like that. Well, actually, it’s not psychicness, but sensing certain feelings and the air.