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The next chapter in my story ( part 8 ) EIGHT What followed, I later learned, was that I was kept in a semi conscious state for three days while arrangements were made for my transport to this place. I am not entirely sure where we are but I do know from what I overheard that we are on an island Perhaps one of the Channel Islands. It’s certainly typical English spring weather here. I woke up from a long deep sleep feeling rested, bright and refreshed. I was in a big comfy bed in a rather old-fashioned bedroom with dark wood wardrobes and tall Georgian windows. Warm sunlight flooded into the big room making everything fresh and bright. I have no idea why I felt no particular curiosity, just wondered what would happen next and of course. And forefront in my mind when another man would have me. I was naked under a soft down duvet. No sooner was I awake than a middle-aged woman entered the room, without knocking I noticed. “Good morning my dear how are you It’s a lovely day. I’m Mrs Simms and I am here to look after you Isn’t that nice?” She was to become my constant companion for the next three weeks and I will never forget her. Let me tell you about Mrs Simms She always had such a busy air about her, brisk. I actually liked her more each day despite what she does to me, with me. I realise she has a job to do, a task preparing me and she takes it seriously. She is very stern but I think that deep down she likes me. She is about fifty I’d guess, was once very beautiful and elegant still, tall, maybe a bit too thin to be healthy and with her sharp eagle like beady eye always on me She speaks with a slight northern accent which I find comforting but she in fact provides me with little comfort . I suppose I am drawn to her and fear her in equal measure. She is my only real regular human contact. The house was Victorian maybe Georgian, large with an air of faded grandeur. Mostly there were few people about during the day, sometimes just me and Mrs Simms and the Housekeeper and she is not just my principal trainer but I suppose my guard. As we chatted she casually drew back my duvet and cupped my pussy. I saw her smile widen as she found how easily her fingers slid inside my wetness. Instinctively I opened my legs wider. “Such a very good girl” Her thumb found my clitoris and began a rapid flicking. She gazed at my face intently until my vision blurred and I cried out, bucked and squirmed in a long powerful orgasm “Very very good needy little girl. How delightful” She washed her hands as I recovered. “We really need to learn to tighten those cunt muscles, don’t we girlie” she spoke from the wash basin before leaving me confused and worn out on my sweaty bed. She popped her head around my door to say, “Dress as you like, it’s a nice sunny day. Breakfast in the dining room, I am sure you’ll find it OK” And so my three weeks there began. I realize I am clearly being taken to some new level of sexual conditioning. Moving beyond the state of 24/7 arousal I am now being kept in a desperate need to be used . to be penetrated . I masturbate to exhaustion when I get the chance and when I am allowed toys I think I go wild. And of course the endless stream of men they brought to the house to use me. Plus I can’t focus . From when I first wake I am so very desperate to be used. To be taken. Why do they need me in this state? Evil Mrs Simms understands exactly . Typically, when she enters my room to shake me awake from my sweating dream filled sleep she will cup my pussy and casually tell me to “ Cum on my hand like a good little slut There there, Good girl” And so I jerk and thrash and moan out yet another violent desperate orgasm. Where will it end? I would dress in simple clothes, sometimes just a sort of shift they provided or maybe shorts and a top. They encouraged me to get fitter, leaner. I was told to run around the encircling garden wall of the house every day and to use the gym equipment. I certainly got more toned. Its hard now to explain the state they finally got me into. So utterly focused on my need for sex, my constant nagging desperate need to feel the ecstasy of orgasm. Try to imagine waking from a deep sleep of wild erotic dreams and your only thought is the need to be used. And for the whole day constantly, whenever I can I am touching myself, masturbating or using toys. And yet deep down I felt a new sort of contentment. This is what my life was for. To provide pleasure, To be used. For me nothing could be more perfect And, thank heavens, at least twice a day I will be offered to a man, often more than one, total strangers They usually take me on my bed, sometimes on the dining table and sometimes in the garden. And then when they are finished and I am lying exhausted and trembling I hear them questioned on how well I performed They are keeping a sort of score sheet. Mrs Simms is usually watching and tells me over and over how I must try harder to please them “Clench dear like I taught you” “Try to match his thrusts with your muscle clamping sweetness” Often, she would stand by the bed or the table watching closely Sometimes with a slight frown. “Lift those hips. Match his rhythm Good girl Good girl” And I sweat and writhe and moan in my delirium of desperate pleasure. After those weeks I was strangely content. A sort of inner peace despite my constant need to be used It felt so right, that this was my natural place . Each day merged into the next in a constant stream of resting, exercise and being taken by these endless visiting men. |
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8/25/2022 1:05 am |
I am enjoying please continue xxx
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8/25/2022 1:41 am |
I started reading then I could feel myself being part of your phantasy. Then I got stopped by the punctuation, it's the same problem I have, I get so wrapped up in what I'm writing my mind is a sentence ahead. Over all it left me with a stiffness and that is the aim of the story. loved it Geri
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wonderful reading
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8/25/2022 6:59 am |
I am finding these stories very erotic.
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I like Mrs Simms
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Wow, a new chapter for your story! An pleasure to read and a nice build up for me, leaving me excited for the things to come...
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A real step change in your story telling, Mrs Simms is quite a lady, I loved the piece where she fingered you with such ease to orgasm. The more richly detailed picture you draw, referencing her northern accent and architectural references such as Georgian windows adds so much. .............oh and 10 /10 for the spelling and punctuation , much better, sadly I won't need to take you across my knee to admonish you for any grammar mistakes
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Geri, when is the next chapter, I am looking forward to it.
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