Pissing Kay
- 1 year ago
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367 Hi I`m Kay! free porn video
Hi I`m Kay!
Alcoholic start with the statement, I`m x and I`m an alcoholic and ….
This lady starts with Hi I`m Kay and I`m a Masochist… my life so far has been such that I feel I need to be punished.
Now me I have talked to ladies like this before, in fact I`ve written stories for one such lady, a lovely cuddly housewife in the uk, who needed to atone for something in her past life and happily paid to be used and abused professionally. (my stories number 167 297 and 298) so I wasn`t as shocked as most folk would be when I spoke first on x hamster, to a pretty housewife in Australia, who had the same masochistic tendencies. This then is a piece of her story just as she told it me, so to set the scene a bit first;
She`s in her 40`s, her name is Kay, she has a tidy body not out of proportion with medium self-supporting breasts, and a nice smile, she has two teenage k**s, and a hubby that can`t be bothered with sex much now, as he has achieved his goal of two k**dies, for him the perfect family. He works away a lot, three weeks away, in rotation, two at home works in oil sales. His name is Melvin, solid reliable and uncomplicated, they have been married for 15 fairly happy years.
They live in a terraced home in downtown Sidney, not overly well off, but like us all, they survive. Melvin, doesn’t know about his wife`s need to enjoy sadistic sex, for want of a better word,’ to atone’! Kay hates hiding the kink from him but has done so for ten years or so now, as she knows he just wouldn’t understand, and knows also that it’s a need that would break her if she didn’t control it
So here is a typical trip that she now does about 3 times a year and has for the last 8 years, as it happens it was her first trip.
Now, it appears in Australia they have a more enlightened attitude to the sex industry and there are two levels of brothels, one that supplies sex as we know it and another that as long as there is no male /female actual sex only involves just games etc it is legal and can be advertised etc just as any other business, from ice cream parlours to bathroom fittings, and is not some backstreet hidden away undercover parlour as it would be in the UK. This is a properly regulated business one of many in the country which is not cheap but professionally supplier of a service to meet the needs of masochists as we shall see.
Such a place she discovered some eight years ago. Now I`m not going to use its real name, that’s advertising, so we shall call it ‘the pussy salon’ which is near. Kay was at a point that she could just afford, by a stint of careful saving, to slip away and relieve her tensions by allowing herself to be used, punished even she had had this desire to atone, to pay for something in her past that she had kept from her husband for so very many years.
So one day, having found the advert for the pussy salon’ she phoned them and explained her needs to the very attentive receptionist, who assured her she was not alone and to come down for a free consultation before she finally needed to make up her mind.
Her mother ran a small farm 100 clicks east, so packing up the k**s they all went and visited granny, her mother delighted at seeing the grandk**s said they could stay for a week or two. Kay excuse being that otherwise the car would not be available Melvin not being able to stay because of his work commitments, so home they went leaving the k**s with granny. This fitted her plan perfectly. A couple of days later, off Melvin, went for his three weeks away. She dropped him at the airport then drove down town to visit ‘the pussy salon’ and to make up her mind if they were all they said they were.
She parked in a side street and walked the last quarter of a mile still wondering, if this was the answer, hesitating across the street from the bright and open shop front, spending a little time appraising the place.
Above the door it proclaimed its name in red letters a foot high, and under that in smaller letters, it said `tension removals, by trained professional domitrix.’
It was what it said on the tin, and with some nerves she entered the tidy reception. She explained that she had rung a day or two back and was told she could come for a free consultation. She was immediately put at her ease, by the very pretty receptionist, who offered her coffee and sent for another more senior lady, who she introduced as Pat. This lady took her into a side room, with armchairs and a big TV on the wall. Here over coffee she coaxed from Kay her need, never once mentioning the reason for the need, but treating her as a client who had a need to be punished for some unknown reason, real or imagined, she did it just as if she was arranging a dental appointment or a sun treatment. Kay was impressed. Pat produced a folder, in it were laid out the various services available, it reminded Kay of a menu in a burger bar. Pat explaining the rules as laid down by the government that meant there could be no intercourse, but orgasms were ok if induced by touch, dildo or whatever. That fitted in fine as she had no desire to cheat on Melvin, {that came later} just to relive this awful itch, this tension, that had built up over the last few years. Pat made a few notes, and sympathetic noises saying that she knew what it was like and that “she occasionally had to use the service herself!” which was reassuring. Pat left to refresh the coffees, saying for her to browse the menu. It was amazing, each service was laid out and with options, like a beef burger having the option of onions or beans or peppers, it said things like for example` Tawse secured, on table or crucifix for [a pre- predicted] number of strokes, back, buttocks, legs soles of feet, tick as appropriate!
Or cat of nine tails, secured on table, crucifix, or overhead lift, that gave the options of breasts, belly and vagina as well as back buttocks legs etc Beside each and every choice was the price in of course Australian dollars. It was not cheap, but she was of no illusion when she had set out. There was electro therapy, but that was well out of her price range, long vibrations, nipple clamping, piercing, for both breast and vagina, even tattooing, the list was endless and it could be videoed, or just sound recorded, of course for a price and the dom could be male or if preferred female.
The only draw back was you needed to book! Pat returned, and said as we have our coffee perhaps you would like to watch a short session, I`m afraid it`s me but that’s because we do keep copies but only to save ourselves from prosecution folks nowadays, are not above trying to sue for marks, if things went wrong in the aftercare, and of course the government controlling body may occasionally check for infringements, but in all these years she said, “we have not had any problems!”
The film began to roll, it was obviously cctv type imagery, and it covered four screens, to start, Pat was in the lower left screen, though after she left, the waiting room, another room such as the one they were sat in, it became a single big screen. Pat was dressed in a dressing gown, (she explained that it was just for her convenience, normally it would be the operators responsibility to undress and secure the subject) the man, she had chosen a man, was a hansom 30 or so year old, who fitted leather cuffs, he then led her to a large room well-lit and clean, here he removed the dressing gown, and attached the cuffs to a lift which he raised till she was flat footed, but stretched upwards to the fullest extent. He fitted a spreader to the ankles and then asked her if she was ready. By now Kate`s eyes couldn’t leave the screen. Pat telling her the details, as they unfolded, she bore the whip on back, buttocks and breast, for 20 HARD strokes, reaching orgasm three times in a row, then at a nod from the subject, nipple clamps were fitted and from the rear the whip struck upwards between the legs, five strokes, each at a long interval, the subject, Pat, screaming in agony as each wrapped itself into the softest part of her body.
Pat explaining to Kay that “knowing she had ordered five in the crutch and that Michel would administer them whatever she said unless she used the safe word, it was an agony in itself!”
By now Kay was wearing damp knickers, as the film ended.
Pat explain that clients were never allowed to leave for 30 minutes after the session, for heart and excitement reasons and that they also recommended clients came and went by taxi, as driving or even walking could be a real trial after a session they had a company who gave reduced prices to take clients home if that was a help. She recommended that Kay started with something such as she had seen, but a variation, what she called the starter pack, especially if price was a factor, and finished with a rough dildoing, to ensure complete satisfaction…
They returned to the reception and fortunately found that someone next day had cancelled, so the booking was made, and the dose, ordered not exactly as it had been on the video film, but Pat insisted on a rough dildoing to finish, it was what Pat referred to as the starter pack! Kay paid then and there. She soon found herself at her car booked for relief the next day at two, a 90 min session, plus 30 mins come down time, out at four, home by half past, in bed or bath by quarter too! Lovely, and of course with him away for another 2 and a half-weeks, time enough for any marks to have gone.
It was meant to be…
She returned home in a daze, understanding now what they meant when they suggested taxi`s too and definitely from, as her mind was else-were but in the traffic, she had asked for a naked male operator, also paid a little extra to ensure that it would not be a soft session, knowing that they had promised he, the operator, the dom, the technician, call him what you will, he would go through with it completely and once started it would be totally unstoppable except if she uttered that safe word, which was unthinkable, but would stop it instantly.
In a stupor, she changed into house clothes, a yellow singlet, a little threadbare, but favourite, lime green spandex yoga shorts, with a pastel blue thong
she cooked herself a meal in the echoing empty house, which she ate in silence, her mind wondering how bad the pain she so desperately desired would be. The phone rang, it was hubby, just checking in as he always did every other day. She managed to sound bright and happy, normality, he was soon gone.
She locked up, then went to watch the box, but could not concentrate, so she got herself a drink, noticing the clock on the wall, that said seven… in 19 short hours she realised she would be dangling on a lift, and a man she didn’t know would be nakedly whipping her body hard, her heart stood still, her pussy damp as it felt even more expectant.
She had changed, before cooking, her going out clothes she had laid on her bed, she shut off the TV, and wandered upstairs, like a zombie, drink in hand, hung the clothes then lay on the empty bed, her mind a whirl. She knew there was a lot to do, she made a list, first she needed to book a taxi, she knew they, the salon had a local and discrete firm to handle the return journeys, so, she rang a local firm, and booked it for 1 pm, to take her. Plenty of time, a twenty min journey to kings cross, then a short walk, to steady her nerves… that done
It was back to the list, she must bathe early before going, or her skin would be too soft, and what to wear…she didn’t usually dress especially, oh tidy, yes always tidy, but this was, well a bit special.
She flipped through the underwear drawer, dismissing the basque as too stiff for the return journey she chose a soft bra and thong combo in pale blue, placed them on the chair, then on second thoughts changed to a full buttock covering knicker, better to cover flesh she expected would be tender and aching, keeping it from the rough dress materiel.
Next came the hold-up stockings there being no sense in a suspender belt on what may be a tender back or hips. She looked at first one dress then another, red was out, in fact she didn’t have any anyway, she being a red-head, though she mused it would have been practical if she bled, instead she chose a pale blue, knee length flouncy one, along with the blue 2” heels,
She lay on her bed once more, gazing at the clothing and absently muttering to herself to remember and put fresh sheets on tomorrow, oh and leave sandwiches in the fridge or soup. That may be better, easy to heat, and sustaining, if she was too bruised to get up much, if as she expected, she would need her bed on her return. Had she really paid out good money to be abused, $450… she slid off her shorts, then her top Braless she looked at each breast, flawless, and not huge, but pert, tidy, she caressed herself, softly imagining the stretched skin bearing his whip, she groaned, her left hand fell to the crutch of the thong, felt her soft lips her little bud the moist aroused wetness of her slot, .
Her imagination running over the expected pain to come, her tongue moistening her lips as she waited the imagined and much hoped for chastisement. Her body climaxed, expectation triggering these feelings, massive and exhausting. She came down slowly, then exhaustion overcame her, and she slept.
It was another day sun shining on her bed, woke her, 7.39am on a clear Sidney morning, her fuddled brain thought, k**s breakfasts, then she remembered, the k**s were at mothers, hubby away, and she was booked for a treatment today, she arose, threw on her dressing gown, toileted herself then made coffee, and toast, today was not the day to feed a big meal to the butterflies swarming in her stomach, she did all the usual domestic things, phoned mother and the boys, read the post, washed up put soup in a bowl in the fridge… for afterwards. she sought out a salve and put it at the bedside, by 9 she was wondering what to do, so went for a long bath, by 10 she was out and dressed in just underclothes and dressing gown, another coffee, she watched the TV, more trouble in the world, tried to concentrate, 11 came and went, she read, soft back crap, she tidied the k**s rooms, 12, more coffee, into the toilet, empty her bowel, and bladder, would never do to make a mess. The taxi arrived at 1 prompt, she was dressed ready, her shoes clip clopping to the motor once the door was locked, the driver a nosy bleeder, who she knew from the past, asking about the k**s, and hubby, as if he cared about anything but his tip.
She was polite, but not as talkative as usual, he asked “where are we off to?” She told him kings-cross noting the raise of the eyebrow, without comment so she added “I am visiting a friend, “it seemed to quieten him.
They were soon in the area, she paid him and got out, he drove off 1.30, nerves meant she was not noticing traffic or crowds, she was swept along , till she stood on the pavement opposite` the pussy salon` it was ten to the hour her hand as she pressed the crossing button shaking just a tad, had she not paid perhaps she would have turned back, but she knew she needed this, this punishment , this atonement, she crossed the road, determinedly opened the door and presented herself to the receptionist, who dutifully took her name, and checked the booking saying “No2 waiting room and Rob will be with you shortly, help yourself to a coffee!”
She was shown into the waiting room, a room like any waiting room in any surgery, it was now or it was never.
Continued in part 2
Alcoholic start with the statement, I`m x and I`m an alcoholic and ….
This lady starts with Hi I`m Kay and I`m a Masochist… my life so far has been such that I feel I need to be punished.
Now me I have talked to ladies like this before, in fact I`ve written stories for one such lady, a lovely cuddly housewife in the uk, who needed to atone for something in her past life and happily paid to be used and abused professionally. (my stories number 167 297 and 298) so I wasn`t as shocked as most folk would be when I spoke first on x hamster, to a pretty housewife in Australia, who had the same masochistic tendencies. This then is a piece of her story just as she told it me, so to set the scene a bit first;
She`s in her 40`s, her name is Kay, she has a tidy body not out of proportion with medium self-supporting breasts, and a nice smile, she has two teenage k**s, and a hubby that can`t be bothered with sex much now, as he has achieved his goal of two k**dies, for him the perfect family. He works away a lot, three weeks away, in rotation, two at home works in oil sales. His name is Melvin, solid reliable and uncomplicated, they have been married for 15 fairly happy years.
They live in a terraced home in downtown Sidney, not overly well off, but like us all, they survive. Melvin, doesn’t know about his wife`s need to enjoy sadistic sex, for want of a better word,’ to atone’! Kay hates hiding the kink from him but has done so for ten years or so now, as she knows he just wouldn’t understand, and knows also that it’s a need that would break her if she didn’t control it
So here is a typical trip that she now does about 3 times a year and has for the last 8 years, as it happens it was her first trip.
Now, it appears in Australia they have a more enlightened attitude to the sex industry and there are two levels of brothels, one that supplies sex as we know it and another that as long as there is no male /female actual sex only involves just games etc it is legal and can be advertised etc just as any other business, from ice cream parlours to bathroom fittings, and is not some backstreet hidden away undercover parlour as it would be in the UK. This is a properly regulated business one of many in the country which is not cheap but professionally supplier of a service to meet the needs of masochists as we shall see.
Such a place she discovered some eight years ago. Now I`m not going to use its real name, that’s advertising, so we shall call it ‘the pussy salon’ which is near. Kay was at a point that she could just afford, by a stint of careful saving, to slip away and relieve her tensions by allowing herself to be used, punished even she had had this desire to atone, to pay for something in her past that she had kept from her husband for so very many years.
So one day, having found the advert for the pussy salon’ she phoned them and explained her needs to the very attentive receptionist, who assured her she was not alone and to come down for a free consultation before she finally needed to make up her mind.
Her mother ran a small farm 100 clicks east, so packing up the k**s they all went and visited granny, her mother delighted at seeing the grandk**s said they could stay for a week or two. Kay excuse being that otherwise the car would not be available Melvin not being able to stay because of his work commitments, so home they went leaving the k**s with granny. This fitted her plan perfectly. A couple of days later, off Melvin, went for his three weeks away. She dropped him at the airport then drove down town to visit ‘the pussy salon’ and to make up her mind if they were all they said they were.
She parked in a side street and walked the last quarter of a mile still wondering, if this was the answer, hesitating across the street from the bright and open shop front, spending a little time appraising the place.
Above the door it proclaimed its name in red letters a foot high, and under that in smaller letters, it said `tension removals, by trained professional domitrix.’
It was what it said on the tin, and with some nerves she entered the tidy reception. She explained that she had rung a day or two back and was told she could come for a free consultation. She was immediately put at her ease, by the very pretty receptionist, who offered her coffee and sent for another more senior lady, who she introduced as Pat. This lady took her into a side room, with armchairs and a big TV on the wall. Here over coffee she coaxed from Kay her need, never once mentioning the reason for the need, but treating her as a client who had a need to be punished for some unknown reason, real or imagined, she did it just as if she was arranging a dental appointment or a sun treatment. Kay was impressed. Pat produced a folder, in it were laid out the various services available, it reminded Kay of a menu in a burger bar. Pat explaining the rules as laid down by the government that meant there could be no intercourse, but orgasms were ok if induced by touch, dildo or whatever. That fitted in fine as she had no desire to cheat on Melvin, {that came later} just to relive this awful itch, this tension, that had built up over the last few years. Pat made a few notes, and sympathetic noises saying that she knew what it was like and that “she occasionally had to use the service herself!” which was reassuring. Pat left to refresh the coffees, saying for her to browse the menu. It was amazing, each service was laid out and with options, like a beef burger having the option of onions or beans or peppers, it said things like for example` Tawse secured, on table or crucifix for [a pre- predicted] number of strokes, back, buttocks, legs soles of feet, tick as appropriate!
Or cat of nine tails, secured on table, crucifix, or overhead lift, that gave the options of breasts, belly and vagina as well as back buttocks legs etc Beside each and every choice was the price in of course Australian dollars. It was not cheap, but she was of no illusion when she had set out. There was electro therapy, but that was well out of her price range, long vibrations, nipple clamping, piercing, for both breast and vagina, even tattooing, the list was endless and it could be videoed, or just sound recorded, of course for a price and the dom could be male or if preferred female.
The only draw back was you needed to book! Pat returned, and said as we have our coffee perhaps you would like to watch a short session, I`m afraid it`s me but that’s because we do keep copies but only to save ourselves from prosecution folks nowadays, are not above trying to sue for marks, if things went wrong in the aftercare, and of course the government controlling body may occasionally check for infringements, but in all these years she said, “we have not had any problems!”
The film began to roll, it was obviously cctv type imagery, and it covered four screens, to start, Pat was in the lower left screen, though after she left, the waiting room, another room such as the one they were sat in, it became a single big screen. Pat was dressed in a dressing gown, (she explained that it was just for her convenience, normally it would be the operators responsibility to undress and secure the subject) the man, she had chosen a man, was a hansom 30 or so year old, who fitted leather cuffs, he then led her to a large room well-lit and clean, here he removed the dressing gown, and attached the cuffs to a lift which he raised till she was flat footed, but stretched upwards to the fullest extent. He fitted a spreader to the ankles and then asked her if she was ready. By now Kate`s eyes couldn’t leave the screen. Pat telling her the details, as they unfolded, she bore the whip on back, buttocks and breast, for 20 HARD strokes, reaching orgasm three times in a row, then at a nod from the subject, nipple clamps were fitted and from the rear the whip struck upwards between the legs, five strokes, each at a long interval, the subject, Pat, screaming in agony as each wrapped itself into the softest part of her body.
Pat explaining to Kay that “knowing she had ordered five in the crutch and that Michel would administer them whatever she said unless she used the safe word, it was an agony in itself!”
By now Kay was wearing damp knickers, as the film ended.
Pat explain that clients were never allowed to leave for 30 minutes after the session, for heart and excitement reasons and that they also recommended clients came and went by taxi, as driving or even walking could be a real trial after a session they had a company who gave reduced prices to take clients home if that was a help. She recommended that Kay started with something such as she had seen, but a variation, what she called the starter pack, especially if price was a factor, and finished with a rough dildoing, to ensure complete satisfaction…
They returned to the reception and fortunately found that someone next day had cancelled, so the booking was made, and the dose, ordered not exactly as it had been on the video film, but Pat insisted on a rough dildoing to finish, it was what Pat referred to as the starter pack! Kay paid then and there. She soon found herself at her car booked for relief the next day at two, a 90 min session, plus 30 mins come down time, out at four, home by half past, in bed or bath by quarter too! Lovely, and of course with him away for another 2 and a half-weeks, time enough for any marks to have gone.
It was meant to be…
She returned home in a daze, understanding now what they meant when they suggested taxi`s too and definitely from, as her mind was else-were but in the traffic, she had asked for a naked male operator, also paid a little extra to ensure that it would not be a soft session, knowing that they had promised he, the operator, the dom, the technician, call him what you will, he would go through with it completely and once started it would be totally unstoppable except if she uttered that safe word, which was unthinkable, but would stop it instantly.
In a stupor, she changed into house clothes, a yellow singlet, a little threadbare, but favourite, lime green spandex yoga shorts, with a pastel blue thong
she cooked herself a meal in the echoing empty house, which she ate in silence, her mind wondering how bad the pain she so desperately desired would be. The phone rang, it was hubby, just checking in as he always did every other day. She managed to sound bright and happy, normality, he was soon gone.
She locked up, then went to watch the box, but could not concentrate, so she got herself a drink, noticing the clock on the wall, that said seven… in 19 short hours she realised she would be dangling on a lift, and a man she didn’t know would be nakedly whipping her body hard, her heart stood still, her pussy damp as it felt even more expectant.
She had changed, before cooking, her going out clothes she had laid on her bed, she shut off the TV, and wandered upstairs, like a zombie, drink in hand, hung the clothes then lay on the empty bed, her mind a whirl. She knew there was a lot to do, she made a list, first she needed to book a taxi, she knew they, the salon had a local and discrete firm to handle the return journeys, so, she rang a local firm, and booked it for 1 pm, to take her. Plenty of time, a twenty min journey to kings cross, then a short walk, to steady her nerves… that done
It was back to the list, she must bathe early before going, or her skin would be too soft, and what to wear…she didn’t usually dress especially, oh tidy, yes always tidy, but this was, well a bit special.
She flipped through the underwear drawer, dismissing the basque as too stiff for the return journey she chose a soft bra and thong combo in pale blue, placed them on the chair, then on second thoughts changed to a full buttock covering knicker, better to cover flesh she expected would be tender and aching, keeping it from the rough dress materiel.
Next came the hold-up stockings there being no sense in a suspender belt on what may be a tender back or hips. She looked at first one dress then another, red was out, in fact she didn’t have any anyway, she being a red-head, though she mused it would have been practical if she bled, instead she chose a pale blue, knee length flouncy one, along with the blue 2” heels,
She lay on her bed once more, gazing at the clothing and absently muttering to herself to remember and put fresh sheets on tomorrow, oh and leave sandwiches in the fridge or soup. That may be better, easy to heat, and sustaining, if she was too bruised to get up much, if as she expected, she would need her bed on her return. Had she really paid out good money to be abused, $450… she slid off her shorts, then her top Braless she looked at each breast, flawless, and not huge, but pert, tidy, she caressed herself, softly imagining the stretched skin bearing his whip, she groaned, her left hand fell to the crutch of the thong, felt her soft lips her little bud the moist aroused wetness of her slot, .
Her imagination running over the expected pain to come, her tongue moistening her lips as she waited the imagined and much hoped for chastisement. Her body climaxed, expectation triggering these feelings, massive and exhausting. She came down slowly, then exhaustion overcame her, and she slept.
It was another day sun shining on her bed, woke her, 7.39am on a clear Sidney morning, her fuddled brain thought, k**s breakfasts, then she remembered, the k**s were at mothers, hubby away, and she was booked for a treatment today, she arose, threw on her dressing gown, toileted herself then made coffee, and toast, today was not the day to feed a big meal to the butterflies swarming in her stomach, she did all the usual domestic things, phoned mother and the boys, read the post, washed up put soup in a bowl in the fridge… for afterwards. she sought out a salve and put it at the bedside, by 9 she was wondering what to do, so went for a long bath, by 10 she was out and dressed in just underclothes and dressing gown, another coffee, she watched the TV, more trouble in the world, tried to concentrate, 11 came and went, she read, soft back crap, she tidied the k**s rooms, 12, more coffee, into the toilet, empty her bowel, and bladder, would never do to make a mess. The taxi arrived at 1 prompt, she was dressed ready, her shoes clip clopping to the motor once the door was locked, the driver a nosy bleeder, who she knew from the past, asking about the k**s, and hubby, as if he cared about anything but his tip.
She was polite, but not as talkative as usual, he asked “where are we off to?” She told him kings-cross noting the raise of the eyebrow, without comment so she added “I am visiting a friend, “it seemed to quieten him.
They were soon in the area, she paid him and got out, he drove off 1.30, nerves meant she was not noticing traffic or crowds, she was swept along , till she stood on the pavement opposite` the pussy salon` it was ten to the hour her hand as she pressed the crossing button shaking just a tad, had she not paid perhaps she would have turned back, but she knew she needed this, this punishment , this atonement, she crossed the road, determinedly opened the door and presented herself to the receptionist, who dutifully took her name, and checked the booking saying “No2 waiting room and Rob will be with you shortly, help yourself to a coffee!”
She was shown into the waiting room, a room like any waiting room in any surgery, it was now or it was never.
Continued in part 2
Becky
- 13.04.2021
- 21
- 0
