Mothers Special Gift
- 2 years ago
- 16
- 0
The Gift free porn video
The Gift.
By DemonMonsterDave
Part One. New horizons and new house. The gift and finding an assistant.
There is a device which can create just about anything one can imagine. It allows one the most awesome of abilities, treasures and experience limited by only the imagination, and I have much. It is a deep power to possess this gift, and with it comes the greatest of responsibilities and a basic fundamental choice.
Nihilistic by nature, this choice has only one sensible answer for me, and that is to explore these unlimited abilities to the full, rather than in any morally-constrained and thus limited manner. The choice of course is between good and evil, for those foolish enough to believe in such things. Yet such as me sees a cold uncaring void of a universe, and feels that morality may have its place but that it is in no sense an obligation or absolute.
The device brought me wealth, incredibly quickly and in amounts hard to imagine for the boy I had been before. The wealth was, as often in such cases, a ticket for me to create my imaginings in the flesh, as it were. It was a ticket to power, for one thing, and power brings such fantasies of mine a big step closer.
My dreams as all others were merely a step on the endless ladder of experience. So I did not see the wealth as an ending in any way. It was, like everything, merely a step to more. With both of my mundane jobs cast aside, family paid-off for their prior use to me, and friends consigned to social networking sites I moved away from my home city and just travelled the world on whim-bought plane tickets, living in hotels in a place until I got bored. I spent the journeys planning, me and my laptop conspiring together.
Some could call it a gap year if I was that sort of lad, but like those who followed the robot's path I too lost my fascination with a world full of varied cultures for a life back home, but my life would be very different to theirs: creation demands experience and varied experience has more inherent value. I was enamoured now of my imagination, as I had always been; the need to create was upon me. It was this that really put an end to my travels. I used my new found power to secure citizenship in a new country.
I purchased an extensive property in a secluded part of a poorly populated state and set about building a retreat worthy of housing my dreams. It took over a year for just the above ground work, and I was chomping at the bit by the time the lower levels were completed and my expansive new home was ready. I had lived in various places while waiting, working fervently on educating myself in the fields that would be necessary, diligent as a drone at my plan. It was with a sense of wonder at myself, and the reality I was playing in that filled me when I was finally, achingly, able to move in.
Having few possessions initially, moving in was easy and the big house felt rather lonely, so on the first night there I utilised my gift to help me complete my plans for some other occupants for the place, and then on the first morning I took a rental car out to the nearest large city and did some shopping and took care of some business.
My first task was to employ a full-time business agent who would take care of my external affairs so that I could concentrate on my fantasies. Under strict instructions to never visit my home, they seemed professional and efficient in line with the commission they charged. Truth be told, the money meant nothing to me, although appearances of caring about it did. As I left their office for what I expected would be the only time, I smiled at the thought of how ironic it was that my first 'member of staff' would be the only one who really worked for me in a normal sense, and it was on this thought that I used an Internet cafe to finalise my search for a more personal assistant.
It had been about two years since I had come into possession of the power, and I do believe that I had made good time and hardly wasted a second in the furtherance of my plans. As well as dealing with the construction of my residence and the inevitable financial considerations that came with such a sudden and steady fountain of wealth, I had also been interviewing various people online as potential occupants of my house and had got to know more than a few excellent candidates. My recruitment requirements were strict and all the work had to be done personally, but there was an unending stream of applicants to my plethora of web site profiles and, in that limbo intermediary period, I'd had no other constraints on my time.
The first position needed to be filled immediately and my best candidate for that was Jennifer Willis, a 20 year-old shop worker from the other side of the country. Being the first, she was also the one I'd need to be able to trust the most and so in many ways, her recruitment was the most important. I arranged a meeting for two days' hence in a third city and looked through my list of other potential candidates for the remainder of the afternoon.
I entered the restaurant exactly on time, my throat dry from the long flight, surprisingly long - I still wasn't used to living in such a big country. I felt a slight nervous excitement, unusual for me, as I entered the bar area and ordered a drink. She would be here, I was sure, having taken a very long train journey of her own to meet me in this random place; however, she may have backed out at the last moment, the human heart is unpredictable - and thus my flutter of emotion. I sat at the bar and ordered a drink, looking around at the bar and craning my neck to peer into the darker eating area above. She would be here, what else did she have? I smiled and took my time with the drink, she could wait.
I entered the men's room and immediately spoke the password phrase we had agreed on the phone. My heart fluttered when I heard the unmistakable answering groan from the second cubicle to the left, also as we had agreed on the phone. I held my calm and strafed across the plush marble flooring, scanning the other cubicles for occupants and finding none. Back before the door to hers, I paused for a moment, imagining the path onward from here and giving thanks to myself for my ability to create these wonderfully vibrant situations.
She was as beautiful in the flesh as the hours of video and countless pictures had attested. Young Jenny, my first subject, stood uncomfortably in the very high heels I had requested, her legs trembling with her trepidation as I entered the cubicle and closed the door. Her legs were darkest black encased in the opaque pantyhose ... long slender and firm were her legs. She was wearing the demanded red tartan miniskirt, pleated and frisky - it flicked seemingly of its own will as she shook there, leaning awkwardly over the toilet to give me room to get within. I pinched the hem between my fingers and pulled her a little towards me. She sighed behind the gag, dripping clear spittle onto the front of her white blouse, bringing the dark line of the bra beneath to greater focus as a wet patch grew there. Her large bosom was heaving, and I stopped to study her for a few long moments, drinking her emotions and savouring this first real life sight.
I had planned not to speak, and didn't, but it was hard. She was breathtaking in the flesh, as much as I had seen and expected and more. Her dark hair hung low on her shoulders, her neck long and her skin a creamy tan. She was elfin and beautiful, the girl-next-door mixed with a button nose and almond eyes that hinted some Asian in her ancestry. She looked up at me with those delicious brown eyes, groaned something unintelligible, shook her body in an attempt to demonstrate her discomfort. Her hands were handcuffed behind her back, hidden by the leather jacket she wore. This I knew, but turned her to check any way. Then I looked down into her beautiful face, locked eyes.
"Don't talk at all," I ordered. She nodded and I reached around to unstrap the ball gag which was disfiguring her delightful mouth. She didn't speak, she sighed with what I guess was a mixture of fear and excitement or some such, yet she didn't speak all the way out of the building and into the new car I'd bought with cash on my way from the airport.
I un-cuffed her in the car and we drove round a few branches stores that I didn't have handy to home. She walked with me as my girlfriend but was silent and submissive at all times. She knew this was a job interview and trial, and that her employment depended on excellent behaviour. Thus, silent and undemanding, she was the finest shopping partner one could imagine. Further, cuffed secretly under the jacket, she could spend no money. Then, when my small wishes were fulfilled we started the long drive back, a circuitous route including one stop and a change of vehicles to the big outdoors rig I really needed.
As dusk descended and we neared home, I wondered on her feelings. It has long fascinated me to learn the motivation behind the automatons we call people, to see why they react in the ways they do to the difficulties they create for themselves or why they choose the courses of action they do. I looked across to my quiet obedient passenger, so much smaller with the murderous heels settled in the foot well, and gave her my winning smile, full of warmth and comfort. She returned it immediately, biting her dark bottom lip nervously at first but then beaming with a radiance that startled me to a surprising degree. I turned back to the road, awash with amusement, bursting with the nature of humans and looking forward to the real start of both our new lives.
It was comforting to me to now be able to confirm her manner. She was indeed the shy and deeply submissive girl I'd known so well during months and months of Internet tests, games and conversations. She actually was the needy and unsure girl I'd looked for. I was therefore still under the impression she had presented the complete truth from the very beginning, and none of my other exhaustive investigations had demonstrated otherwise. The complete truth is an elusive thing on the Internet. My cock rose with the irony that virtually nothing I'd told her was true. I looked across and gave her another charming smile. It mystified me how quickly she was able to return it.
We arrived home. It had been a tiring drive in a 4x4 bought again with paper a few hundred miles away, the last leg particularly difficult due to the remoteness of my house and the resultant lack of roads. I stopped the car in the centre of the courtyard that sat in front on my mansion, looked again at my victim. She was asleep, her head rested peacefully against the window and leaving a small patch of condensation there, her hair splashed awkwardly around her face. The browned rays of dusk were lined across her face, making me think of magic. I quietly unhooked my seatbelt, leaned over her, sniffed. She was soundly out. I unhooked her seatbelt very very carefully, ran my finger through the wetness on the glass near her pouting lips and licked it.
Her nap was a bonus. I nipped quietly into the house to get the bottle and chloroformed her neatly in the car, her beautiful eyes flashing open for just a second of recognition before they misted over and I was able to hoist her over my shoulder and carry her indoors. Not exactly the vision of being carried over the threshold that most girls imagine. I chuckled as I carried my little victim into the basement, operated the security measures and then carried her limp form downward another level into the dungeon. It was a matter of moments to get her into one of the cages in the foyer. I left her un-gagged and fully clothed in the small iron cage, so vulnerable and sweet, and it made me literally shiver with lust at the thought of the fun I was to have.
My dungeon was a complete second underground building, as large as the main house and fully equipped with everything I had so far imagined I might need. Now, this soft innocent little girl, believing I would be easy on her - kind like my fake persona online - was in amongst it, a soft morsel of delicious flesh trapped forever in this nest of hard stone, sharp metal and evil imagination. I grinned and went to bed.
Sometimes I like to be rather primitive in some ways. I like the way that the more basic resolutions to problems, while being inelegant, are usually at least as effective as the more popular, more 'fashionable' systematic methods. While she was still unconscious, I hooked up a large battery cell to the wire of the cage with a padlocked connector that her small pink fingers would have no joy with. I liked the way the yellow cable snaked across the bare concrete floor to the hard metal. I liked the contrast to her softness within. Next, I placed a computer monitor on a stand in front of the cage, close to her but out of her reach. Finally I pulled a comfortable armchair next to the battery control, outside the yellow chalked indicator for the arc of the cameras, four of which had been installed on two-metre tripods around the cage. I toyed with the box, which was black with a single prominent red button for the power, and mused to myself as I watched her breasts rise and fall and the flutter of her eyes behind sleeping lids.
She'd expected something like a paid fuckable house slave's position, though that part was not clarified. What had been made clear between us was that I would go very easy on her in the beginning and stick to her limits. It amused me how well I'd played the role of the respectful guiding Dom. Her limits included the obvious - all of which I intended to break, at least to her mind - and electricity. She was terrified of electricity.
I pushed the button and she woke up, the jolt was such that she banged her head a good one on the bars above her, finding quickly that the cage was big enough only to curl up in. She didn't scream, and I guess it was only the shock of the banged head and the cruel wrench from sleep that silenced her as the pain from her multiple contacts with the bars must have been terribly agonising. The remote only had one setting and that was very painful.
She shook her head, stunned and shocked, looking around in a daze. The brightness of the mounted spotlights on her and the darkness around made me hard to see in the shadows, but my voice brought me her attention.
"Remove all of your clothes and push them out of the cage."
Mila
- 28.04.2021
- 8
- 0
