Hooked6 wrote: ↑Sun Nov 12, 2023 3:09 am
Nicely written. I can't wait to see what Lindsey will have her do. I sure hope the mysterious visitor doesn't say too much to give herself away. I love how you have maintained the mystery surrounding the guest's identity. That alone would drive Taylor crazy - especially of she thinks it might be someone that she knows but hasn't a clue who it might be.
Great stuff!
Hooked6
Thanks! In my mind I know who it is, but I keep going back and forth as to whether or not Taylor figures out who it is, or even if the visitor figures out who she is. Could you imagine if the visitor figures it out but Taylor still has no idea?
If anyone has a preference as to who figures out what, please let me know!
jastes22 wrote: ↑Sun Nov 12, 2023 12:48 pm
If anyone has a preference as to who figures out what, please let me know!
Well, to maintain internal consistency, the unknown visitor figuring out who she is whilst Taylor remains in the dark (at least initially) would be the way to keep up the pressure.
Follow up thought, might a better 'self-inflicted' torture on our unhappy victim be to 'snap', yank off her mask (revealing her own identity), only to find the visitor and the boys (keeping their identities secret from the visitor) disguised, and then be forced to either leave naked (leaving behind all the evidence) or carry on unmasked for the rest of the festivities, only after which is the visitor's identity revealed.
Still curious as to the supposed friends' long term plans and just when, and how badly, the 'maid/pet/slut' is going to explode and go on a killing rampage
Finally, the video ended. To be honest, I had completely forgotten about Lindsay’s condition of cumming within two minutes. It felt like longer, but even if it was, I hoped that our new visitor was enough of a distraction to make Lindsay forget about it.
“Wow,” the visitor said. “That must have been so humiliating. I can’t believe she actually did that willingly in front of a camera.”
“Oh, more than willingly. She was begging throughout the night to do this. This was actually her reward for good behavior.”
I blushed. Lindsay made it sound so much worse. Now I wasn’t only slutty, but I was also desperate for humiliation.
“Here, watch this,” Lindsay said. “Slut? Put your leash in your mouth, get on your knees, and crawl around for our guest. ”
I whimpered. I couldn’t fight back, but I didn’t want the stranger to think I wouldn’t even resist the thought of such a humiliating task.
Unfortunately, my fear of Lindsay was greater than my desire of losing the last shred of dignity I had in the eyes of this stranger.
I grabbed my leash and brought it to my mouth. The fabric was harder than I expected, and I couldn’t quite clench down on it comfortably.
“Good. Now crawl around like the slut you are.”
Leash in my mouth, I fell to the ground and got on all fours. I thought back to the last time I had been on all fours, only earlier this night. I had just been demoted from maid to pet. I had fal a lot further from that since.
I wasn’t sure where the visitor was in regards to where I was, but I imagined she could get a better view of my back and butt from any vantage point. I started to crawl around, the sensation of my tits jiggling returning. I wasn’t sure where I was supposed to go, so I opted to crawl back and forth in front of everyone. I felt a burning in my crotch and an uncomfortable pressure.
I needed to pee.
But I knew there was going to be no way to convince Lindsay or the others to let me go to the bathroom without making a serious concession, not when I was their favorite toy. I was just going to have to hold it in.
“Okay, good, slut. Now sit up, open up your legs, and touch yourself.”
Anything but that. The visitor had already seen me get off on myself, but a video was one thing, and in person was another.
Still, seeing no other option and holding true to form, I said nothing. Was I actually enjoying this? Was my inability to resist because I was scared of Lindsay’s punishment, or because I didn’t want this to end?
I moved to sit and brought my knees up to my head, spreading them wide. My pussy was still wet and covered in cum, but I couldn’t think about that as I splayed myself in front of our visitor. My fingers slid inside me. I barely contained a moan. How could I be getting off again so soon after orgasming? The pressure from needing to pee was still growing, and touching myself and opening up was not helping.
I swallowed and did so, my legs feeling like Jello.
“What would you like to do with our cute little slut?” Lindsay asked, obviously speaking to our visitor.
“Can I…touch her?” She seemed hesitant, almost nervous, to ask it. I realized that being anonymous combined with not knowing who I was made her more willing to try something that was more forbidden. Gazing on a naked girl you didn’t know was one thing, but actually touching her? That was different.
“Of course! She’s our slut, and you’re our guest. What’s ours is yours.”
Lindsay always knew how to make it worse. Now I was no longer just a slut. I was property, something that could be exchanged or given as a gift. I was a toy to be enjoyed.
Before I could completely comprehend what was happening, fingers thrust themselves into my pussy. For some reason, I expected the visitor to explore my tits first, so the sudden sensation and pressure on my crotch, combined with the fact that I already felt weak in the legs from just cumming and touching myself almost made me crumble.
The ferocity of her exploration nearly threw me off balance, and I stepped back to regain it. Fingers grabbed my leash and yanked me forward. A little squeak escaped my lips as I nearly fell on top of my unseen visitor. With the better angle, her fingers thrust inside and out of my very wet and moist pussy, and I felt my legs open up almost as a reflex to give her better access. Her fingers were soft and warm, and a soft purr mixed with a moan escaped my lips.
“Mmm…she likes this,” she said.
I blushed because she was right. There was plenty of evidence from the pictures and video to support that statement, but actually hearing it being said by someone who wasn’t there for all the buildup really solidified it.
The visitor giggled as she pulled out her fingers, leaving me gasping for breath. “She’s still sticky and so wet!”
Her fingers crawled up my stomach and to my tits. I was forced to keep myself still. Just like when I was shaved, being free to move around and yet having to force myself to hold still while I was groped required a certain active participation that kept me hyper-focused on the humiliating nature of what was happening to me.
I felt the visitor step behind me to get a better angle on my tits, squeezing and spreading them. I moaned at the sensation of strange, unknown hands touching my privates. The fact that this visitor was completely unknown to me only served to heighten the arousal I felt as she explored my body.
She paused for a second, and I forced myself to take in breathe. This entire night it felt like I was holding my breath, waiting for Lindsay to come up with something new, so I was grateful for the brief pause.
I felt another pull from my leash, followed by another hand on my head, pulling my neck back gently. I allowed her and let my head fall back.
Fingers combed through my hair. Oddly enough, combing through my hair felt more violating than when she groped my tits. Girls only let girls touch their hair when there was a good amount of trust, and I had no idea who this was. I shuddered at the sensation, letting my head fall back further so she had better access.
Her fingers rubbing off my hair smelled like peach lotion.
There was something else there, another smell, something the visitor had brought, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
My hair! I held in a groan. My hair would be recognizable with or without the mask. If there was a chance the visitor knew me, If I really wanted to protect my identity, I would have to cut my hair from its long, silky length to something much shorter. I imagined myself with a pixie cut and shuddered a little at how slutty I looked in my head.
“What would it take to get that mask off?”
I held my breath. Lindsay had already shot down the idea once, but that was no assurance that she wouldn’t relent at some point if the visitor kept asking.
“What do you think, slut? Should we take off your mask? That way you can know who our mystery visitor is.”
I realized I desperately wanted to know who the visitor was. I don’t know why, but I was starting to get the feeling that I did know the visitor, and I needed to know who it was. But it was too much. The tradeoff of identities was too costly. I might find out who she was, yes, but I couldn’t do anything about it. If she knew, however, with her pictures, she could do so much damage to my reputation.
I opened my mouth to adamantly refuse, but nothing came out. I felt like I was going to explode, and my mask and the constant threat of being identified kept me so close to the edge that it was excruciating.
“If you don’t say anything, slut, we’ll come up with your answer.”
I clenched my legs, as if that would do anything to stymie the ever-increasing pressure between my legs. I had just cummed! How could I be so close so soon?
“N-n-no,” I managed, my stutter less a result of my fear and more a result of the strength quickly leaving my body.
“Hm,” the stranger said. “That wasn’t the answer I was hoping for.”
“Tell you what,” Lindsay said. “Let’s play a game.”
A game? No no no! There was only one prize the visitor would be interested in, and that was my mask.
“We’ll give you 5 minutes. For every unique way you get our slut here to moan—which shouldn’t be too hard, honestly—I’ll give you a clue as to who it is under the mask.”
A little short (cut off when things were about to get interesting - tease)
Notwithstanding that she's enjoyed some elements of the evening, we going to get any back story to explain why Lindsay et al seem hell bent on torturing their friend...
A whispered (and ongoing) 'villain's monologue/exchange' implying the visitor's identity to torture more (e.g. you remember my little sister don't you... do you remember what happened in 10th grade... do you remember how you laughed at her... etc. or,
Just a plaintive 'why, why are you doing this to me?' from our delectable victim at some point (which would fit with the observations/fears/etc she's raised/thought throughout), or,
Something else, just to round the back story out.
I know, it's probably something to do with the dysfunctional way my brain works, but I keep getting kinda stuck on the "why", reducing (i.e. not eliminating) my enjoyment of an otherwise great story.
imanewb wrote: ↑Thu Nov 16, 2023 6:15 am
A little short (cut off when things were about to get interesting - tease)
Notwithstanding that she's enjoyed some elements of the evening, we going to get any back story to explain why Lindsay et al seem hell bent on torturing their friend...
A whispered (and ongoing) 'villain's monologue/exchange' implying the visitor's identity to torture more (e.g. you remember my little sister don't you... do you remember what happened in 10th grade... do you remember how you laughed at her... etc. or,
Just a plaintive 'why, why are you doing this to me?' from our delectable victim at some point (which would fit with the observations/fears/etc she's raised/thought throughout), or,
Something else, just to round the back story out.
I know, it's probably something to do with the dysfunctional way my brain works, but I keep getting kinda stuck on the "why", reducing (i.e. not eliminating) my enjoyment of an otherwise great story.
I hear what you're saying. I tend to stay away from that aspect just because it feels like a cliche and the dialogue is always a little cringey. I'm also finding it hard to figure out where to put a beat like that in the story without interrupting it. Maybe they're just friends, and Lindsay is giving Taylor what she wants and is just seeing how far Taylor is willing to go. It is very hard line to ride, between trust and terror, but I think that's what makes this story so fun. Regardless, I understand what you're saying, and in my current draft for Part 20, I hopefully address this a little bit.
Thanks for the reply, waiting with baited breath for the next part to see what happens... agreed the examples I threw out were cliched, I was in a rush and hoping you'd come up with something better
Maybe they're just friends, and Lindsay is giving Taylor what she wants and is just seeing how far Taylor is willing to go. It is very hard line to ride, between trust and terror, but I think that's what makes this story so fun
Oh it's definitely a fun read... and yes, maybe Lindsay thinks she's only giving Taylor what she wants, but that's definitely not how it's coming across based on Taylor's internal monologue... we've gone from happy enough to play 'naughty games' (tm)...
I didn’t dare complain or resist, partially out of fear, but also partially because of another feeling that was creeping up inside me like a growing black hole. I realized with no small amount of horror and shame that I wanted what was about to happen...
Through Taylor's rationalisations (when the camera's came out) and evidence of ever declining trust on her part...
It was one of the reasons why I had let the night go as far as it had gone, the fact that the events of the night wouldn’t go further than tonight. The boys could talk about it as witnesses, yes, but with no proof, who would believe them?
To make matters worse, even if Lindsay did hold off on pictures if I refused, there was nothing to stop her or the boys from taking pictures anyway later in the night. For all I knew, they could have been taking pictures—or even filming— all this time, documenting my pussy being shaved in all its glory while I laid there naked on the table.
Still…I hesitated. I wondered for a moment if this was one of those choices, like my handcuffs and the pictures, that I had no choice to accept, and that Lindsay was going to take my mask off regardless of my choice, and I would lose any benefit of doing so willingly.
That was too far, and she knew it. We had gone from “maid” to “pet” to “slut” in a matter of hours, each with its own connotations. But I had no choice.
Lindsay always knew how to make it worse. Now I was no longer just a slut. I was property, something that could be exchanged or given as a gift. I was a toy to be enjoyed.
A couple of ways you could incorporate the 'why aspect', that you might like to consider/disregard completely to show L thinks she's doing what T really wants...
1. As this is told from T's POV... the odd observed interaction between L & the boys where, for example, one of the boys might look concerned, L frowns, they whisper some, boy looks reluctant, T has massive orgasm, L looks pointedly at boy and shrugs with an 'I told you so' look... T maybe overhear snippets (but not everything, over the wild beating of her heart) - negating much of the dialogue issues you mention.
2. Get to the end of the night (or at some point before then), have L declare the forfeit served, give T her clothes back with a big smile on her face all happy for her friend, makes a big deal about sending copies of the pictures to T for her to remember the night by, and so on, turning to obvious confusion when T to breaks down, says something like 'you think I'll need pictures to remember how you treated me last night bitch? I thought we were friends, fuck off and die, I hope you all rot in hell...', before storming off.
And wrap it up with an epilogue a few months later from Lindsay's POV where, depending how dark you want to get, she finally gets the message when she manages to confront T (who's been avoiding them all), where T explains forcefully that what they did was tantamount to rape, she felt forced to agree, and agree because of the hammer they were holding over her head, and so on. L horrified that T now completely hates her and the boys for the 'extra' things they put her through, apologises and apologises offering to make things right... just as T's considering that (she did enjoy some parts after all) her phone pings... the pictures have come to light... which might work nicely as the intro to another story revolving around the same characters (if you're so inclined).
OK, done... just gonna sit on my hands now and wait for the next exciting instalment
