Suburban Sadist - Origin
Date: 10/7/2017, Categories: Fantasy, Authoritarian, BDSM, Blackmail, Oral Sex / Blowjob, Coercion, Cruelty, Discipline, Extreme, Humiliation, Male Domination, Straight Sex, Non-consensual sex, Rape, Reluctance, BDSM, Slavery, Teen, First Time, Author: ComorosXTR, Source: sexstories.com
Suburban Sadist - Origin This story contains: Blackmail Humiliation The actions described are fictitious and entirely illegal and immoral. *** Sadism: noun 1. Psychiatry. The condition in which sexual gratification depends on causing pain or degradation to others. 2. Any enjoyment in being cruel. 3. Extreme cruelty *** Mrs Blackwell looked at me with wide and tear-filled eyes as I explained what was going to happen to her. She would come to understand that her body was no longer hers. Instead, it would be mine and she would obey exactly what I commanded her to do. It is a strange feeling to control someone so completely, to utterly dominate another person, to know that I will get what I want from them, and most importantly, to know that they know. It is in incredible feeling to look at someone and know you are more devious, more cunning, more logical, more intelligent, and simply more powerful. The moment they understand and break is euphoric to me and that is exactly what makes me a sadist. Of course, this doesn’t have to happen: Mrs Blackwell could go to the police, she could end this immediately and I wouldn’t stop her, the only thing keeping her here are her own failings. “You will strip for me, as I command, and I will take the photos I need. Do you understand Gemma?” “Y… yes Sir.” “And do you know what each flash of my camera means Gemma?” Mrs Blackwell’s head dropped and she held back her tears as I slowly explained the new reality she was living in. “N… no Sir.” “It ... means…” I paused so she would submissively look up at me, “it means everything I see, I own. Do you understand Gemma?” The distraught woman wiped a tear from her eye as she managed a reply for her blackmailer, “Yes Sir.” “Good girl, stand by the wall.” Slowly Gemma got up from her seat and stood where I pointed. First I turned on my bright halogen lamp and pointed it directly at the scared woman. Then I picked up my large and heavy professional DSLR from the desk and slowly stalked towards her. Her limbs were so tense I could see them freeze as her eyes fixated on the camera. “Hands by your side.” The woman, 15 years my senior, obeyed quickly enough and looked absent-mindedly into the camera for the first shot. The large flash mounted on top of the camera did its job and caught the image of a trapped housewife desperate for the torture to end, or at least, desperate to know what it would entail. “Hmmm… I need you to smile Gemma.” My victim shuddered just slightly. She was obviously in no mood to even act enjoyment. “P….please...” “Please?” I echoed, but I only needed a raised eyebrow to elicit a response. “P… please Sir.” “There is no negotiation Mrs Blackwell.” Gemma took a couple of deep breaths and found the strength to look back up at the camera. With wet eyes she finally managed a weak smile and my camera caught her humiliation and dread perfectly. Over the next hour I cataloged Mrs Blackwell – Gemma – perfectly. As she stripped each piece of clothing from her body she ...