1. Avenging Angel chapter 3

    Date: 10/9/2019, Categories: Fiction BDSM Cock & ball torture, Violence / Cruelty Cum Swallowing Extreme, Masturbation / Toys Non-consensual sex Oral Sex / Blowjob Prostitution, Rape Torture, Water Sports / Pissing, Author: Clarissa Hendry, Source: sexstories.com

    QUESTIONS AND CONJECTURES Mental turbulence kept me awake half the night, and when I slept my dreams were lurid. It was still dark when the lash of cold rain on my window whipped away the belated harbinger of repose. I stumbled out of bed, put on the previous day’s clothes, made coffee and turned up the heating in the study. Mandy and her cinema with its porn-but-not-exactly-porn films were becoming an obsession, but most of the questions they raised remained unanswered. Mandy had revealed little about herself, and I still didn’t know why I’d been singled out for the private viewings or how she’d come to know my tastes - or anything about me - in the first place. To be fair, not much about me is secret. Even less is interesting. I live alone; I edit official documents and papers for professional bodies; I sometimes appraise and edit manus for publishing houses and fiction authors; and I write fiction pieces (not erotica, certainly not pornography), mainly for magazines. I don’t need to work more because I inherited money and I own my flat outright. All this is public knowledge, or would be if the public were interested. Few people know me well enough to recall my one serious relationship, with Laura Renshaw. It ended when I uncovered the cheating bitch’s lies and duplicity. I now use prostitutes for sex, and although I don’t talk about it I don’t care if it becomes known: I’ve no one to cheat on and no close family to embarrass. Most of my time is spent walking, reading, listening to music, visiting the theatre and doing my pieces of work. I don’t smoke, I drink in moderation, and I watch little television. Thrilling life, isn’t it? Who was Mandy, what was her game, and why did she seem so interested in - of all people - me? I asked the wall, the carpet, the curtains over the dark window and the blank computer screen, but they vouchsafed no answers. Nor did they explain what drew me to her. It wasn’t physical attraction; she wasn’t ugly but she projected all the sex appeal of a bath sponge (and no, that wasn’t among my tastes). Until Mandy chose to explain, I decided, I should set my brain to work on other matters. Foremost was the question of whether the films were ‘documentaries’, as Mandy claimed, or fantasy fiction aimed at people with my tastes. I’d clung to the latter view, but was that because I genuinely believed it, notwithstanding Mandy’s assurance to the contrary, or because the alternative unsettled me? (Unsettled? How about ‘disturbed’ or ‘frightened’?) All right, try the counterfactual argument: suppose Castration Fantasies were real events and the films were documentaries of them. What were the implications? First, the men who were obliged to take centre stage, the ‘specimens’, had been spirited away from their homes, work, families and neighbourhoods, and their lives had been drastically changed. (‘Changed’ rather than ‘ended’ in most cases, if Mandy’s claim of a less-than-one-in-twenty fatality rate was correct, but ‘ended’ in ...