LOGINWhen I'm seven years old, my dad turns me in to the Court Judgment of the Born Wicked because of my tendency to vomit. If I'm found guilty, my blood ties with my dad will be forcibly severed. Then, I'll be sent to prison. Everyone claims that Dad is just making a fuss over nothing. "Your daughter is still so young, so it's natural for her to fall ill. As a father, you should be more considerate toward her." But when the evidence is shown, everyone clamps up immediately. There was once when Dad drank so much to the point he suffered from gastric bleeding. The business contract that he managed to convince his client to sign was all soiled because I vomited on him as soon as he got home. Thanks to me, the contract was voided. Dad got fired on the spot. During Bryce Fuller, my older brother's birthday, I vomited onto his birthday cake in front of his classmates. Because of that, Bryce was isolated by all of his classmates. He became so depressed that he tried to slit his wrist in an attempt to take his own life. I'll keep vomiting everywhere, be it at the dining table or on my bed. Dad and Bryce have to clean me up more than 30 times every day. They suffer greatly because of me. What angers everyone the most is that after I'm done vomiting, I'll laugh at everyone in a provocative manner. The judge gives his verdict instantly, claiming that I'm wicked by nature. Bryce's eyes redden immediately. As he cries, he tells me that he can't bear to see me leaving him. I never shed any tears, nor do I throw a tantrum. Instead, I accept the judge's verdict calmly, but with a prerequisite condition that the judge finishes watching my memories. The judge is shocked, to say the least. "We'll have to crack your skull open in order to extract your memories. You'll be in a world of pain. Are you sure about that?" I nod in determination. But Bryce, on the other hand, looks alarmed. "I won't agree to that!"
View MoreSummary: A young woman gets a surprise gift from her husband on valentine's day. It turns out to be a glimpse of her past life, and she finds herself pleading to be used by not one, but several strangers.
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A Valentine's Slut (Part 1)
It's 9 p.m., and I am laid completely naked on a padded bench. I’ve been bound, my hands and legs spread apart, while my wrists and ankles are pulled tight and tied. I am blindfolded, and I’m acutely aware of the cool air that caresses my bare pussy and the stiffness of my nipples.
I tremble in excitement as I take several deep breaths, trying to get my nerves under control. Every breath feels like a countdown as I try to distract myself with my thoughts.
Moments later, I begin to hear voices and I steady myself. The door opens, and I hear people walk into the room as the door closes again.
Silence.
The room is quiet again, and I can feel eyes on my naked, willing body. I wonder whether my husband is still there with me.
"Are you willing to surrender?" A female voice asks.
I nod, "Yeah... please, Fuck me."
--Two hours earlier--
"You have no idea how long I've planned this for you.” My husband says, winking at me.
A thrill shoots through me. Hold on…let me take you back to how it all began.
It's valentine's day. My husband and I are about to embark on a sexual adventure we have been discussing for several days. We have been married for three years, and our sex life together has been exciting. We love each other deeply, and we satisfy each other.
However, a small part of me craved the thrills and danger of my previous life. Long before I got married, I was once a sexual submissive and while in college, I had been introduced to the raw pleasures of bondage. Then, I made a living by selling hot nudes of my body and visiting a few clients to satisfy them. It was lucrative and exciting, and the thrill of surrendering my control to someone else was the sweetest part of it for me.
At some point I decided not to take the risk anymore, and so I became a high-end dominatrix. I'll tell you what this means…I finally realized I could be the one in control, and the money involved would be even greater than when I was a sub. I was happy with being a whore until I met the perfect man and fell in love with him.
It was surprising that he knew what I did for a living at the beginning, yet he went crazy over me. He wanted me all to himself and when we got married, I had to stop being a sexual dom, and I had sex with only him.
To make things clear, a sexual Dom takes control of the sexual act and everything that happens in it. They’re the one who gives the orders, sets the pace, decides when and how you’re touched, or if you’re touched at all. They know how to make you ache, beg, and break… and they take pleasure in watching you come undone at their command. It’s not just about power. it’s about presence, confidence, and the ability to read your body like a book and rewrite it in the way they want.
On the other hand, a submissive, or sub, is the one who gives in, willingly. They surrender their control and trust their Dom to take them to places they can't go on their own. It’s not about being weak. It’s about craving the freedom that comes from not having to lead, just to feel, respond, obey, and be consumed.
Well…I’ve been both.
And both sides awakened different parts of me. But nothing compares to what it felt like when my husband decided to test the limits of what I used to be… and remind me who I still am beneath it all.
A few days before Valentine's Day, my husband had proposed an adventure as his Valentine's Day present to me. After some discussion, I agreed to do whatever he told me to do. I was excited to be his sub for the evening.
**********
"Honey," I say, "I'm ready whatever plans you have for me." I flash him my brightest smile.
"Take off your clothes." he orders.
I do that with a rush as I resist the urge to tell him that I'd prefer to have my clothes on, especially if he plans on taking me out of the house. I step out of my knee-length black gown and fling it in the bed.
As he moves towards my closet, I shoot a glance at my reflection in the full-length mirror by the wall. My blue eyes stare back at me, and I noticed how full and red my lips are. My wavy blonde hair hangs down on either side of my breasts, almost to my waist. My eyes settleon my erect nipples and I smile.
Damn, I am sexy!
My ass is tight and firm, and my long, slender legs meet at my bare pussy. My skin is flawless. I smile slightly with the realization that my body has not changed since I was in college.
"Put these on." My husband says, breaking into my thoughts.
I turn around and take the strappy red heels from my husband. He loves to see me naked wearing only high heels. So, I put them on the floor and step into them gracefully, giving him a show as I straighten up.
His eyes linger on my pussy for some seconds before they trail up to my face again, meeting my stare.
“You like what you see?” I tease him.
“I could bend you over, and fuck that pussy right now.” He says.
I chuckle, “okay?”
“I have better plans for you tonight, my doll.”
That name! Oh. My. Fucking. Goodness!
I shudder as I think about how much it turns me on whenever he addresses me as his doll.
"Wear this." He says, handing me a minidress, a favorite of his. It is a soft velvet fabric, red in color. I pull it over my head and down across my hips. It is held up with spaghetti straps that tie behind my neck, and it stops halfway up my thighs.
The front plunges between my breasts, and my nipples poke out under the thin fabric. My toned back is bare. The shapes of my legs are visible when the light shines from behind me. I look at my husband, and it is obvious he is enjoying what he sees.
I smile, “You like this look, don't you?”
“You'd look better with this” he says as he picks up a brown leather collar from the table. I'm surprised that I never noticed it lying there. He moves behind me and puts the collar around my neck. It is thin and outfitted with small rings at intervals. He fastens it and we look in the mirror together, as he remains behind me.
This is something new for us, and I give him a questioning look.
“Honey, tell me. What's going on?” I ask.
"I just wanted to see how you were. I'm relieved to see you doing so well," Warren said hoarsely.I gave a slight nod and turned to leave. "If that's all you needed, then you should go. I'm doing just fine here."But he refused to let go of the hem of my pants."Estelle, I know you're just putting on a brave front. Even though you look well and seem to be doing fine on the outside, I know deep down you must be suffering."You're only seven years old—alone without me and Bryce, you're bound to face a lot of ridicule from others. Even if your material needs are met, I know you must feel deeply empty without a family."Estelle, if you agree to let me remove the vomiting chip, Bryce and I can come back to your side right away."I nearly laughed in disbelief. I had thought Bryce was the inherently malicious one, but it turned out Warren wasn't any better himself.How true the saying "the apple didn't fall far from the tree" was.I glanced coldly at Warren, then waved cheerfully into
The moment Dad stepped out of the courtroom, he was forcibly escorted to the hospital."What are you doing?" he asked fearfully.The doctor coldly administered anesthesia and produced a chip."Although Estelle agreed to your acquittal, she requested that this vomiting chip be implanted in you. This chip will randomly release electrical currents round the clock, causing you to vomit at irregular intervals."As long as you can put up with the torment of this chip for five years, Estelle will spare you."Dad's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. "That damn girl! I'm her father, so how can she do this to me?"The doctor chuckled softly. "You don't even know, do you? Estelle has already legally severed ties with you through emancipation. To her, you're nothing more than an enemy now."…When Dad woke from anesthesia, aside from a slight stinging sensation in his throat, he didn't feel anything out of the ordinary.He let out a few disdainful laughs."What's the big deal about
It was an extremely complex chip schematic diagram.The operator pointed at the line of fine print and shouted, "Once implanted for over three years, the chip fuses completely with the implantee's nerves and can only be detected by scanning the entire thing with a specialized scanner."The judicial panel's first reaction was skepticism."Activating the specialized scanner costs up to a million dollars per use. How can you be so sure—"The operator cut him off, "I stake my life on it!"The comments exploded instantly. Everyone speculated wildly about the operator's relationship to me. After all, why would he risk so much to defend me?Together, they pushed public opinion to its peak, forcing the jury to agree to the scan.Over an hour later, the test results finally came out.There was indeed a chip in my body, perfectly fused with my nervous system. Without meticulous searching, it would've been impossible to detect.The judicial panel, who had initially insisted on upholding
That night, the toy suddenly activated. Its long mechanical arm reached straight into my throat.I jolted awake, clutching my neck. I tried to scream but was unable to make a sound.The next day, I developed a high fever that wouldn't break and started vomiting violently.Crying, I tried to tell Dad, but only muffled, incoherent sounds came out.Dad tossed me a pack of flu medicine."If you can't talk, just keep quiet. I'm already exhausted from a long day at work as it is."I nodded silently and wanted to give my tired dad a hug. But the moment I wrapped my arms around him, a wave of nausea hit me, and I vomited all over him.Dad's expression darkened as he patiently cleaned me up. But from then on, he never hugged me again.Later, my vomiting became more and more frequent. I was rejected by the kids at kindergarten and mocked by neighbors.In the end, I could only hole myself up at home, playing with building blocks. Moreover, no one ever brought up the "child genius" anymor






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