ThePurpleQuill
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Jan 11, 2018
- Messages
- 161
- Points
- 18
A sigh falls from her lips, disrupting the silence of her vacant storefront. Nary a customer has entered since opening that morning, the predictable lull of the winter months keeping her patrons at bay. But it was not to be the steady stream of revenue she was missing out on, oh no: for you see by day, she is Alexis Reyes, owner and proprietor of Lexi’s Bridal Parlor in downtown Los Angeles, but by night, she transforms into the entity that is Mistress Lush, preying upon the vulnerabilities of her most delectable of victims. That’s right husbands, lock up your doors and windows, because her victims of choice: horny housewives.
Her entrance bell rings forth, prying her out of her lull to gaze upon her next victim, a young mother of two by the name of Kira. Struck by her blue crystalline eyes, she couldn't help herself from inspecting her unforeseen visitor, watching her blonde platinum locks rest atop her supple cheeks as she hurried her petite figure up to the desk. It must have been fate that drove this woman through her door that afternoon, a look of desperation and disarray scrawled across her face. Approaching the bemused owner, the flustered young woman tells her of her plight: a last-minute birthday celebration for her kids, combined with a surprise camping trip by her husband, left her to plan the entire party all by her lonesome, far too much pressure for the young perfectionist to handle. Begging for a helping hand during this trying time, she sought the expertise of Ms. Reyes, for anyone who planned weddings for a living surely could handle something as this.
With every passing moment, Ms. Reyes found her imagination wandering deeper into the darkest recesses of her soul: she could picture the woman’s soft features contorted in endless expressions of forced mirth, her doughy eyes drenched in tears of frustration and anguish as a merciless tickle torture is inflicted upon her person. Noting her concern, Ms. Reyes rests her hand atop the woman’s shoulder, calming her for the time being. A glass of sparkling cider is offered to calm her nerves, that which she happily accepts, not knowing it to be laced with a fast-acting sedative that has ensnared countless women before her. Three small sips were all it took for Kira’s eyes to roll back into her head, falling into a deep and unexpected slumber.
Kira slowly awakens, how long she has been out she could never know. Peeling her eyes open, she is confronted by a most horrendous fate: thick leather straps encase each of her joints, binding her atop a padded leather x-frame with but an inch of movement left. Stripped down to her undergarments, she is left pitifully exposed without a scrap of modesty to speak of. Her surroundings are now completely foreign, glancing about the baron room in which only a spotlight illuminates her from above. A chill reverberates down her spine, witnessing a leather-clad Mistress Lush approached her from the shadows, a look of hunger for female flesh in her gaze. She approaches the distraught woman, dictating upon her innocent ears exactly what Kira is in for: that she belongs to her, her little toy existing solely for her own amusement, and that she may only be let free once her body, mind, and spirit are relinquished to a higher power. For the time being, she will be conditioned to accept her fate, lasting as long as is necessary to bend her to her Mistress’s desire. Kira is speechless, tears welling up in her tender eyes, unable to fathom just what is in store for her, but soon, she won’t have to.
The first hour was hard on the poor girl, Mistress Lush’s sharpened nails dragging their way across the supple flesh of her underarms with unparalleled efficacy. It only took ten minutes to reduce Kira to teetering giggles, another twenty to cascading laughter, and the last half of the hour to wails of pure desperation. By hour three, her body started to fail her, barely able to catch her breath as Mistress laces her wicked fingers in between her hyper ticklish ribs, pulsating down her sides with a hellish rhythm like no other. No amount of weekend Pilates was enough to prepare her for such torments, a continuous onslaught testing her mental fortitude to their absolute limits. By hour five, she was livid: her shrieking pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears as Mistress made her way down her legs, descending upon her flailing feet without a modicum of mercy.
Her endless suffering only pleased her captor endlessly, savoring every reaction from her hapless captive: the way Kira’s muscles bulged against the leather restraints almost made her giddy with pleasure, the investment in hospital-grade cuffs paying itself off. The way her eyelids clamp tight, only to burst open with eyes as wide as saucers, elicits a girlish giggle from the sadistic mistress, watching her torments slowly overtake her senses. The way she calls out desperately for her husband, her knight in shining armor, a pitiful gesture all to no avail, makes her drool in savoring such a precious effort from her victim. She cannot help but taunt the poor girl, telling her of how her husband wants her there, and if he really wanted to rescue her from the dastardly hairbrush scraping over her soles, he would have done it by now. She tells her just how foolish it is to resist her, and the sooner she realizes that, the easier it will be for her from this point onward. As the dreaded comb saws its way through every one of her flailing toes, a tiny shred of her sanity is stripped from her, the only rest she receives being when another layer of hot oil is lathered atop her reddened soles.
But it was not enough to merely drive her physically to the edge of existence, Mistress Lush knew, reaching for a small knife in which to slice Kira’s bra off right in front of her eyes. How horrible Kira must have felt, her modesty as a married woman being stripped from her, forced to bear her breasts in the sight of anybody but her husband, the thought only abandoning her once she witnessed the twin feathers being twirled between Mistress’s fingers. Inch by agonizing inch, Mistress Lush would drag the feathers across her bosom, caressing every square millimeter of her quivering flesh with ease. Her wild cackles gave way to moans of ecstasy, biting her lip to suppress her growing arousal to no avail. Not one scrap of resistance is left in her by hour seven, her rock-hard nipples betraying her intense arousal from such torments. But Mistress Lush is not finished with her yet, a detail made obvious the moment she slips the knife under Kira’s panties, stripping them from her person for good.
Seating herself right before Kira’s weeping womanhood, with dastardly feathers in hand, Mistress Lush begins the final phase of Kira’s torments. With excruciating patience, she drags the feather across her throbbing kitty, extracting the most horrendous of sounds from her distraught victim. Thrashing mightily against her bonds, Kira can do nothing from enduring the relentless pleasure forced upon her. Pushing aside the folds of her vagina, Mistress Lush caresses her hypersensitive clit, the experienced dominatrix knowing full well just how to wield her victim’s libido against her. The combination of relentless tickling and sensual teasing too much for the poor woman, her hapless tears cascading down her flushed cheeks. Screams of tortured ecstasy echo throughout her chamber, the might of her struggles falling pitifully short of freedom. Babbling incoherently, she hasn’t but the slightest inkling of how long she had been there, let alone how long she will remain, for Mistress Lush does nothing but build her a prison within her own mind, trapping her within the sensations of which she is forced to endure without repose. A hapless wail pierces forth, Kira giving one last effort before she falls back into her bondage, a look of vacancy scrawled across her drenched eyes. Finally, after a full ten hours of torments, Kira has relinquished herself unto the will of her new Mistress.
Kira soon finds herself amongst the ever-expanding roster of her “clients,” young women having fallen victim to the ways of Mistress Lush over several years of operation. Kira will soon be beckoned, instructed to arrive upon her doorstep not one minute late, clad in the outfit of her choosing right down to the polish atop her toes. Handing her Mistress a monthly tribute, she will be reminded just of her place, taken right down to the same place her body and spirit were once ravaged only to have it be done to her again and again. She may protest, the thought of betraying the sanctity of her marriage willingly too much for the poor girl to bear. But, she will learn that failure to meet even a single demand will force her Mistress to reveal to her husband a curated selection of stills derived from her lesbianic escapades, with the tortured cries of her orgasmic lust scattered across the internet in the form of a carefully edited video from that fateful day.
The End
Her entrance bell rings forth, prying her out of her lull to gaze upon her next victim, a young mother of two by the name of Kira. Struck by her blue crystalline eyes, she couldn't help herself from inspecting her unforeseen visitor, watching her blonde platinum locks rest atop her supple cheeks as she hurried her petite figure up to the desk. It must have been fate that drove this woman through her door that afternoon, a look of desperation and disarray scrawled across her face. Approaching the bemused owner, the flustered young woman tells her of her plight: a last-minute birthday celebration for her kids, combined with a surprise camping trip by her husband, left her to plan the entire party all by her lonesome, far too much pressure for the young perfectionist to handle. Begging for a helping hand during this trying time, she sought the expertise of Ms. Reyes, for anyone who planned weddings for a living surely could handle something as this.
With every passing moment, Ms. Reyes found her imagination wandering deeper into the darkest recesses of her soul: she could picture the woman’s soft features contorted in endless expressions of forced mirth, her doughy eyes drenched in tears of frustration and anguish as a merciless tickle torture is inflicted upon her person. Noting her concern, Ms. Reyes rests her hand atop the woman’s shoulder, calming her for the time being. A glass of sparkling cider is offered to calm her nerves, that which she happily accepts, not knowing it to be laced with a fast-acting sedative that has ensnared countless women before her. Three small sips were all it took for Kira’s eyes to roll back into her head, falling into a deep and unexpected slumber.
Kira slowly awakens, how long she has been out she could never know. Peeling her eyes open, she is confronted by a most horrendous fate: thick leather straps encase each of her joints, binding her atop a padded leather x-frame with but an inch of movement left. Stripped down to her undergarments, she is left pitifully exposed without a scrap of modesty to speak of. Her surroundings are now completely foreign, glancing about the baron room in which only a spotlight illuminates her from above. A chill reverberates down her spine, witnessing a leather-clad Mistress Lush approached her from the shadows, a look of hunger for female flesh in her gaze. She approaches the distraught woman, dictating upon her innocent ears exactly what Kira is in for: that she belongs to her, her little toy existing solely for her own amusement, and that she may only be let free once her body, mind, and spirit are relinquished to a higher power. For the time being, she will be conditioned to accept her fate, lasting as long as is necessary to bend her to her Mistress’s desire. Kira is speechless, tears welling up in her tender eyes, unable to fathom just what is in store for her, but soon, she won’t have to.
The first hour was hard on the poor girl, Mistress Lush’s sharpened nails dragging their way across the supple flesh of her underarms with unparalleled efficacy. It only took ten minutes to reduce Kira to teetering giggles, another twenty to cascading laughter, and the last half of the hour to wails of pure desperation. By hour three, her body started to fail her, barely able to catch her breath as Mistress laces her wicked fingers in between her hyper ticklish ribs, pulsating down her sides with a hellish rhythm like no other. No amount of weekend Pilates was enough to prepare her for such torments, a continuous onslaught testing her mental fortitude to their absolute limits. By hour five, she was livid: her shrieking pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears as Mistress made her way down her legs, descending upon her flailing feet without a modicum of mercy.
Her endless suffering only pleased her captor endlessly, savoring every reaction from her hapless captive: the way Kira’s muscles bulged against the leather restraints almost made her giddy with pleasure, the investment in hospital-grade cuffs paying itself off. The way her eyelids clamp tight, only to burst open with eyes as wide as saucers, elicits a girlish giggle from the sadistic mistress, watching her torments slowly overtake her senses. The way she calls out desperately for her husband, her knight in shining armor, a pitiful gesture all to no avail, makes her drool in savoring such a precious effort from her victim. She cannot help but taunt the poor girl, telling her of how her husband wants her there, and if he really wanted to rescue her from the dastardly hairbrush scraping over her soles, he would have done it by now. She tells her just how foolish it is to resist her, and the sooner she realizes that, the easier it will be for her from this point onward. As the dreaded comb saws its way through every one of her flailing toes, a tiny shred of her sanity is stripped from her, the only rest she receives being when another layer of hot oil is lathered atop her reddened soles.
But it was not enough to merely drive her physically to the edge of existence, Mistress Lush knew, reaching for a small knife in which to slice Kira’s bra off right in front of her eyes. How horrible Kira must have felt, her modesty as a married woman being stripped from her, forced to bear her breasts in the sight of anybody but her husband, the thought only abandoning her once she witnessed the twin feathers being twirled between Mistress’s fingers. Inch by agonizing inch, Mistress Lush would drag the feathers across her bosom, caressing every square millimeter of her quivering flesh with ease. Her wild cackles gave way to moans of ecstasy, biting her lip to suppress her growing arousal to no avail. Not one scrap of resistance is left in her by hour seven, her rock-hard nipples betraying her intense arousal from such torments. But Mistress Lush is not finished with her yet, a detail made obvious the moment she slips the knife under Kira’s panties, stripping them from her person for good.
Seating herself right before Kira’s weeping womanhood, with dastardly feathers in hand, Mistress Lush begins the final phase of Kira’s torments. With excruciating patience, she drags the feather across her throbbing kitty, extracting the most horrendous of sounds from her distraught victim. Thrashing mightily against her bonds, Kira can do nothing from enduring the relentless pleasure forced upon her. Pushing aside the folds of her vagina, Mistress Lush caresses her hypersensitive clit, the experienced dominatrix knowing full well just how to wield her victim’s libido against her. The combination of relentless tickling and sensual teasing too much for the poor woman, her hapless tears cascading down her flushed cheeks. Screams of tortured ecstasy echo throughout her chamber, the might of her struggles falling pitifully short of freedom. Babbling incoherently, she hasn’t but the slightest inkling of how long she had been there, let alone how long she will remain, for Mistress Lush does nothing but build her a prison within her own mind, trapping her within the sensations of which she is forced to endure without repose. A hapless wail pierces forth, Kira giving one last effort before she falls back into her bondage, a look of vacancy scrawled across her drenched eyes. Finally, after a full ten hours of torments, Kira has relinquished herself unto the will of her new Mistress.
Kira soon finds herself amongst the ever-expanding roster of her “clients,” young women having fallen victim to the ways of Mistress Lush over several years of operation. Kira will soon be beckoned, instructed to arrive upon her doorstep not one minute late, clad in the outfit of her choosing right down to the polish atop her toes. Handing her Mistress a monthly tribute, she will be reminded just of her place, taken right down to the same place her body and spirit were once ravaged only to have it be done to her again and again. She may protest, the thought of betraying the sanctity of her marriage willingly too much for the poor girl to bear. But, she will learn that failure to meet even a single demand will force her Mistress to reveal to her husband a curated selection of stills derived from her lesbianic escapades, with the tortured cries of her orgasmic lust scattered across the internet in the form of a carefully edited video from that fateful day.
The End
