The "A My Slut Story" Collection

Product Information

Layla sat nervously in the car on Wednesday as it conveyed her to Mr Larson’s home. He lived in a large three-storey townhouse. She couldn’t imagine how much it was worth. But still, it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to protect me from the harsh reality of living as a woman in a male-centric society. It wasn’t enough to keep me from internalizing the endless lessons the patriarchy throws at the youth of America. Perhaps, at the youth of the world. As I mentioned, it was easy to redirect my desire for companionship from my fellow female classmates to “dating” the boys that wanted more. But that’s not to say that I found a true sense of companionship with any of the boys that thought I would put out. The blows continued, and Layla felt tears spring to her eyes as he beat her ass. “Please,” she whimpered.

I lower the horse’s legs and push it out from beneath Barb. She dangles from her wrists, legs shaking too hard to stand. When I pop the release on the nozzle in her cunt, water starts leaking even before I’ve unplugged her. The nozzle comes out with a gush down her thighs. She says ‘what’s going on in there? Mom are you ok? Is Dad hitting you?’ My husband kept going like a champ but I was laughing so hard. Super embarrassing. This is why we usually wait until the kids go to bed. Also my husband does not hit me. I don’t know where that came from in her mind.” Horror Writing | Screenplay Writing | How To Write | Write Books | Read Write | Writing Tips | Writing Tools | Writing Community

Must Read

He must know I will obey him if he commands it. He knows he could have had me last night if he’d wanted to. I am pleased to find that you will accept my proposal. I have detailed the finer points of our arrangement: The front doorbell rang and I could here him talking to somebody. I was in total panic mode totally exposed, My parents loved me. And genuinely, they respected me, even when I was a child. They taught me to think about the world around me. They taught me that I was important and that my opinions, feelings, and behaviors were my own. Mr Larson left the attic, and Layla stood and started to get dressed. She removed the nipple clamps.

Needless to say, my mother did not excuse me from sex ed. She felt it was important to reinforce the lessons I was learning at home. And, I doubt she knew that “Sex Ed” really meant “Abstinence Ed.” That the entire week would center around scary young adolescents out of engaging in sex of any kind. Layla burned with shame as she felt the moistness between her legs. She was laid over a desk receiving a beating from her boss, but she found the experience intensely erotic. She cursed her body its betrayal. I am not. I haven’t asked for anything, but I wouldn’t be unreasonable if I did. You got those contracts because of me.”It’s time, Lily,” he said. “It’s time to give me what you never gave anyone else, even your husband. The only question here is whether I need to take it, or whether you are going to give it to me freely.” I always suspected that the boys weren’t really interested in being my friend, but I was lonely. I needed friendship. I needed to feel connected with other kids my age. After all, I was twelve, maybe thirteen at the time.

Layla beamed and resisted the urge to gloat at Mr Larson. “You are too kind,” she said. “But you wear the dress beautifully yourself.” Maybe it isn’t,” he said. “But when your mother is as big a slut as mine, she deserves to be spoken to like one and treated like one.” To prove his point, he actually did bend her over in front of the mirror she’d been using to pose. “Just look at this skirt! Only a slut would wear a skirt this short. But I’m happy you’re slutty enough to wear it, because it means I can get a nice look at this bum.”

Lily groaned when he reached up and grabbed her tits through her far too tight blouse. “Harry, no!” she snapped. She’d been stunned before, but now it was giving way to anger. “Stop this right now!” Mr Larson rubbed his hand along the inside of her thighs and touched the wetness. “It looks like I am not striking you hard enough, Miss Farrow. I perhaps should have caned you after all. I will take care of this.”

I will increase your salary by the equivalent of your bar earnings if you agree to quit that job so you are in work on time every day and also spend a few hours with me at my pleasure.” As am I. Perhaps I should go with your friend. Maybe he could satisfy me and not leave me frustrated, disappointed, and frozen on his doorstep.”

He nodded. His eyes remained cold, but they were beautiful and smouldered beneath his dark lashes. He was very handsome—even if he was stern and incredibly nosey. “I have a proposition for you,” he said. “I suspected that I might get you to agree to the spanking, though I did not expect you to take it as well as you did.”