A Slut Revealed

(c) 2006 Abe Froman and Porcelaina Valeriana

<p><i>The following story is a work of fiction. It contains scenes of an adult nature, so if you are underage where you live, stop reading now. This story contains explicit sexual language and fantasies involving the mental and physical control of others. If you are offended by such activities, do not read any further. This is purely a fantasy. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead is purely coincidental.  It is written with the inspiration of my Lady in my mind and heart, and is a gift for her. </p></i>

<p><i>Please send any comments/suggestions to me at froman.abe@gmail.com. They are appreciated and warmly received. . </p></i>

<p><i>This story may be reposted or archived provided the following conditions are met:

1)        The story is not altered in any way

2)        The story contains my name and disclaimer

3)        You do not make money from the story. </p></i>

<p><i>Introduction: . </p></i>

<p><i>There are some people who are so original and unique, when you interact with them, it is like you are alive in a new way, and you think other experiences are like dim reflections in a mirror.  My Lady Miss Porcelaina Valeriana is such a woman and this story is inspired by her, written for her, and dedicated to her with love. . </p></i>

Simone was ecstatic as she read the words from her glowing laptop screen.  She made it a point to keep an eye on Lady Diavolina, always wanting to be aware of the latest developments in her life, and today she had found gold in this latest posting. 

Lady Diavolina maintained a blog on a popular gathering site, and it was one of the places that her admirers posted praise and adoration to her.  'Just wait,' Simone regularly thought, 'until they get sight of my beauty.  They will forget her completely.'

In what Simone felt was a bit of long-overdue good luck, one of the most prolific comment-posters had listed the final details of his upcoming meeting with Lady Diavolina in one of his public comments on her blog, and today was that day.  She gave herself a long look in the full-length mirror that dominated her dressing room, reviewing each detail of her chosen ensemble and smiling.  Surrounding the mirror, as reference and inspiration, were colour prints of all the images of Lady Diavolina she could find.

Her favourite knee length leather boots with the imposingly thick heels, just like the ones Lady Diavolina wore in her headline photograph, were buckled up to her knees.  Out of the boots peeked the wide pattern of her fishnet stockings, ending in a lace elastic trim high on her thighs.  She admired the way the hip-hugging black latex skirt gleamed in the light, and the way its short cut accentuated the length of her legs.  Lady Diavolina was often dressed like this, but Simone told herself that her ass looked even better that the images before her.  A red, lace-trimmed push-up bra held her breasts high and tight, and the cut of her black tank top showed generous cleavage, exposing just enough of the red trim to catch the eye. 

Her long, dark hair had been washed and conditioned to a flowing gloss and she wore it loose and straight, letting it flow over her shoulders.  She'd even managed to find out the exact shade of colour Lady Diavolina used for her highlights and dyed her own to match.  She had powdered all of her exposed flesh, making it stand out in even greater contrast to the black, and to give herself the kind of porcelain complexion she knew Lady Diavolina's men desired. 

Satisfied that she was more than ready, she head out with the gleeful thoughts of how she would turn this man's head in new directions.

He was easy to spot in the park, sitting there nervously on the park bench, just where he said he would be.  He fidgeted and constantly looked around - just like you would expect a man would do when out in the world in a lace thong, especially when he was waiting to beg to serve at a woman's feet.

'Well,' Simone thought, 'he will get that, but at a different pair of footwear than he thought.'

She was just about to approach him and let the lucky sissy take in all of her beauty when she felt the wet cloth over her face, tightly covering her mouth and nose.  She squirmed and tried to scream and free herself, but the hand in the silk glove held it doggedly tight.

She awoke in a haze and tried to reach up to massage her aching head but she found that she couldn't seem to move her hands.  'Strange,' she thought, and tried to piece together her memory.  The park, the man, the seduction...

Her eyes jerked open only to realize they were behind a thick velvet blindfold.  She tried to scream and found her mouth full of fabric, transforming her scream into a pathetic mumble.  As the clouds continued to lift from her mind, she realized she was on her knees, and her arms were pulled behind her tightly, straps holding her wrists and even her elbows.

"You are pathetic, Simone," came the exotic voice out of the silence.  "I knew you couldn't resist this meeting - you're so desperate to put yourself in my place that an attempt to see and seduce my slave would draw you in like an ant to sugar."

Simone's face grew red with rage, but none of her spasms or jerks loosened her bondage in the slightest.

Unseen by the squirming captive, Lady Diavolina stood over her with wicked gleam in her deep, blue-gray eyes.  Near the kneeling male slave, she stood atop the four-inch spiked heels gleaming black shoes, each with a leather strap around her ankle, crossing the immaculate nylon stockings that hugged her legs.  The seams, rail straight, flowed up the backs of her legs, and the stockings were tugged up via black garter belts that disappeared under her corset.  The sparse lighting sparkled off the highly polished latex of the form-fitting corset, accentuating the white detailing on the otherwise all black garment.  Black clasps on a white latex strip in front marched upwards towards her generously displayed cleavage as the tightly secured laces in back held her body in a perfectly sculpted silhouette. 

Her flesh, flawless and porcelain white, caught every shadow, and the soft shading drew in every eye that saw her.  The red highlights in her near-black, glistening hair only made the powerful red of her full, wet lips more striking.  Black satin gloves were laced up to her elbows and she let the black leather crop in her right hand play against her leg.

"Now, instead of being me today, you're going to feel while it is like to be my slut - and not only mine, but the slut of my slave as well.  In fact, why don't we start there?"  Her tone changed as she addressed the waiting man, the bait from the bench.  "Get her dressed properly."

The slut, a man in his 30's, acted quickly to obey.  He held a gleaming pair of scissors ready in his hands and with them he cut and tore away Simone's tank top.  The scissors also made quick work of the brassiere, cutting it to ribbons on the floor, and leaving her breasts exposed - rising and falling visibly with each angry breath she took.

Simone's skirt was next and her stockings, while left on, were shredded and destroyed.  She wanted to cry out with the pain as the slave didn't use the scissors on her panties, but instead simply pulled them up from the back, dragging them up into the cleft of her cunt before they finally tore away.

"Now," came Lady Diavolina's voice once more, "you need to feel this at least once."

Without further warning, the thin leather tip of Lady Diavolina's whip landed in a sharp crack across the cheeks of Simone's bare ass.  She couldn't but let a bit of a giggle out as the kneeling woman visibly jerked in pain.

"That, slut, is to let you know what is coming if you don't follow orders promptly, completely and with the proper enthusiasm.  Do you understand?"

The gag was torn from Simone's mouth, and she was just about to hurl out an obscenity at her captor when the whip lashed at her again, turning her insult into a piercing scream of pain. 

"Do you understand?" the question was repeated slowly.

"Yes, I understand," she managed to say, panting with the burning heat of the whip marking her mind as it had her flesh.

"Good.  So suck the slave's cock until I'm satisfied, and we had better both believe it's the best thing you've ever tasted."

Simone was mortified as the semi-hard penis was pushed against her lips, but she had little choice but to take it in, suckle it, work her tongue around it, and slurp at it.  So much was her fear of that whip that her body was overruling her mind and her shame.  She wanted to bite off the little sissy whore's cock rather than degrade herself like this, but she was in no position to at the moment.

She was pumping her body against his crotch, feeling him grow rapidly in the warmth of her mouth, and noticing his excitement was driving his hips into enthusiastic thrusts.  Oh god, she was being face-fucked by this little sissy, who probably had to pull down a pair of pink panties to expose his shaft to her lips.  As the pulsing shaft was driven deeper and deeper, she felt the base of him at her lips, and realized with further horror that he was even shaved bald.

She felt her body ready to finally reject this indignity, at the edge of gagging with mental disgust as well as with the physical resistance to his stiff rod driving into the tightness of her throat.  She didn't think she could bear another minute of it, even with the threat of the whip.  Tears were wetting her blindfold as she reached the edge, only to be spared her own reaction by the retreat of the slave's cock from her mouth. 

She thought for a moment there was mercy to be had, but then she felt the sticky wetness of hot cum explode into her still-open mouth.  Pulse after pulse hit her, coating her lips, her cheeks, her neck and breasts.  Her existing tears turned into body-wracking sobs as she managed to picture how she must now look - a powerful Dominatrix reduced to a cock-sucking, cum-stained whore.

"She's not done, yet, boy - get her ready," were Lady Diavolina's ominous words to her spent male subject.

She felt his hands on her - remarkably strong hands.  Her wrists were re-cuffed in front of her and she was pushed forwards onto all fours.  Her legs were pulled wider apart, and unseen ropes held her that way, exposing her pussy and ass completely from behind. 

The rubber intruder that drove into her ass was merciless and immense, and Simone screamed out.  Her scream was muffled quickly - not by a gag this time, but by flesh.  Lady Diavolina's thrust, driving the strap-on into her, had pushed her against the backside of the male slave, who had obediently kneeled on all fours just in front of her.  As a result, her pleading cries were effectively muzzled against his ass, and the vibrations of her misery were turned into a vibrating torment to his prostate.

All through the eternity of her fucking, her face was driven deeper and deeper between his cheeks.  Knowing it only made her misery more complete. 

Lady Diavolina alternately took her cunt and ass, stretching out her stalker like the slut she deserved to be.  Simone's torment was complete not just when she had to listen to the gleeful laughter of Lady Diavolina as she rode her and slapped at her ass, but when against every fibre of her resistance, she came - loudly and powerfully.  It was such a tremendous release of pleasure and shame that she passed out right there on all fours.

Simone wasn't bound when she woke up, but she was still blindfolded.  She was sore, but wasn't naked either, as she found out when she loosened and removed the gag.  She almost wished she was naked for a moment, since her current attire was probably more embarrassing. 

Her breasts were barely covered in a bright pink, skin-tight top that bared much more than just her midriff - it was cut almost up to the underside of her braless tits.  Her skirt, also pink, was pleated and scandalously short, covering her ass only if she was standing with perfect posture.  There were no panties beneath them.  Her fishnets and boots were gone, replaced with white knee socks and pink penny loafers.

She had to get out of here, find some way to cover herself, and as her eyes darted around she realized even her purse with her keys inside had been taken.  For a few minutes Simone was close to panic, before she found the note placed near her. 

"Slutty Simone, Your apartment keys are secured under the bench where you hoped to tempt my slave.  You may retrieve them there.  Your house keys, your car keys and your car you will find at home.  Love, Lady Diavolina."

She pushed her way out of the door before her after finally getting up to her feet, cursing as she crumpled up the note.  She had a long trip ahead of her, she realized as she ventured into the bright sunshine - the part was a good hour's walk from her home.  On the back of the door she opened was the sign for the men's washroom, the public washroom in the middle of the park that was Lady Diavolina's rendezvous site - a good hour's walk from home.

She tried to ignore all the stares and lewd comments directed towards her as she rushed to find the bench and her keys.  She was rushing, but she found she couldn't move too fast or risk having her breasts bounce their way out of the tiny top she'd been dressed in. 

Finally there, she had to get down on all fours to reach the dangling keys.  The way they had been secured it took her a few minutes to free them.  Of course Simone knew that her bottom must be embarrassingly on display as she wrestled them free, but she was not yet aware of how Lady Diavolina's slave had printed "FUCK ME" in bright lipstick on her ass cheeks for just this occasion.

The walk home seemed to take and eternity.  Every eye seemed to be on her and young men seemed incredibly brazen around her, tossing out comment after comment on her figure, her clothing, and suggesting many a disgusting service she might want to provide.  It wasn't until quite a bit later, finally at home and stepping out of her shower that she saw the discarded top on the floor of her washroom.  "SLUT FOR HIRE" was written in clear black letters on the back, as an advertisement she wore the entire trip.

<i>Please send comments and/or suggestions to froman.abe@gmail.com.</i>