***DISCLAIMER***
This
is a second part to the last blog I wrote, so before coming to this
one I'd advise reading the last one. You'd want to know how upset I
was with Claire before this, trust me, pets. ;)
Late
Night Caller
My
return to Malibu was how I expected it to be. Claire and her little
rag tag bunch all protesting me right through baggage claim to my
taxi and then straight to my home. I knew they would be following me
the entire way, but I just needed to get to my home so I could rest
before the movers came. By this point I had Pet, but she had
protested to be moved along with my belongings given that she
classified herself an object at the time. Suffice to say, it was
certainly one of the weirdest arguments I've ever had. So I missed
her, but at the same time I knew she wouldn't be much help other than
to add in a little fodder. For those that have only known this side
of Pet, the Pet at that time was essentially the exact opposite. Shy,
quiet, preferred to be wrapped up in latex...okay, that last part is
still spot on.
Anyway,
getting off topic. The movers eventually arrived later on that week
and within a few days I was able to set everything up. Of course,
Claire was there with her protesters every morning, afternoon, and
evening. I couldn't even get out to the beach in my own backyard
without being hassled. However, all of it began to change one night
when I received a phone call around one in the morning with,
possibly, the strangest demand I've ever been met by.
“Why
haven't you kidnapped and had your way with me yet?”
It
was Claire and I could tell that she was very upset. She didn't even
give me a chance to answer her before she hung up the phone. It took
me a while to settle everything in my head over what that phone call
was about and when it all came to I found myself actually getting
dressed to go. I had wanted that bitch over my knee so badly that I
was actually getting ready to buy into her trap! So I ignored the
call and went back to bed dreaming about me getting away with indeed
kidnapping her.
Ode
to a Dream
It
was the most memorable wet dream I've ever had. I kidnapped Claire
from her home as she had requested, but not before removing her
bottoms. I imagined her pussy shaven bare. She seemed that sort to
me. In her own home I would gag her with her panties and keep them in
there with some tape. I know she would be kicking and screaming at
me, but her slick juices would be telling another tale. Oh my,
writing it now...was I dreaming about what I thought I was? Again,
dream, can't quite defend those, right? Moving on...
With
one of her plastic hairbrushes in hand, I would bend her over the
side of her couch and begin paddling her backside. Each shot would
earn their own yelp and I would continue until she had calmed down.
It would take a little while, but eventually she would be calm enough
that I could remove my hand from her back, but of course not the
panties from her mouth. She would look at me and wonder what would
come next as I tossed her hairbrush down beside her. One look at that
and to me as I would gesture her up to her knees. She would do it.
Out of fear or curiosity, or perhaps a mixture of both, she would as
I grab hold of her hair and reach down to the front and begin pulling
up her top exposing her bra. She would resume squirming before a few
hard slaps to the cheek to calm her back down. I would grab hold of
the bra portion between her perfectly rounded tits and pull them up
letting them bounce out into freedom.
They
would be erect from the excitement and I would make it my duty to let
her know how much I see that. She would blush and look away, unable
to deny what she really felt and then look back at me before I
slapped my fingers down across her tits. A few grunts but Claire
would keep her chest out. I'd tug her bra up more and give her
breasts some more firm slaps turning them about as red as her bottom.
At that point, I would completely remove her top and bra and tie up
her wrists with the latter behind her back leaving her perfectly
vulnerable. Only then would I trust her enough to slide the panties
out from her mouth, just enough to let her speak. Unfortunately, I
wouldn't give her much of an opportunity as my fingers would be
jammed right inside of there. I would want to treat this bitch like
the whore that she is. She would choke and gurgle and cough when I
ripped my fingers out and then look up as I spat on her face.
She
wouldn't say a word.
At
that time I would want to test her growing obedience and offer out my
foot. She'd see no alternative, no way of escape, and she would know
what I would do if she didn't. So she'd lean forward and begin
kissing. Kissing and licking. I would snap my fingers to get her
attention while she did it. Then I would spread apart my legs and
show her I wasn't wearing anything underneath of my skirt. She would
smile eager to get a taste, but she'd have to earn that right as for
now I lick my own fingers and rub my own clit. I would pop a breast
out from my top and masturbate to the image of her licking and
worshipping my foot. The little bitch who had made my life hell now
at my feet, ready to serve, ready to be dominated. I came. Hard.
Not
just in the dream but in reality. I woke up to a heavenly orgasm the
next morning, screaming and moaning. I was a little annoyed, but at
the same time...what better way to wake up is there?
At
that point I knew my dream had to be made a reality.
End
of part 2. lol Sorry, pets. :) But be sure to check out my twitter
for pics from my latest session! :) Maybe you can forgive me then?
-Katalina
Star
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