I am kneeling before Mistress Sumurumus. With my left hand I caress, stroke, massage, knead, pinch, and stimulate in any other ways I can think of the skin, the muscles, the tendons, the ligaments, and the nerves residing in Her feet and legs. Her pedicure is exquisite. Her skin is exceptionally soft and oh so smooth. Everything pertaining to Her fascinating feet and Her shapely stems possesses incomparable excellence. Touching my Mother-in-law this way does something for me. It gets me excited. Sumurumus is such an exciting Woman. I am getting more and more aroused. She is the most arousing and ladylike Ladyship. It is getting me hot. It is really getting me off. My dominant hand is occupied. I am not used to using my right hand. My left hand must continue to maintain physical contact with The Shapeliest of Sirens, Sumurumus. I start to touch myself. I see my Mistress smile. I hear the peals of Her wicked and wonderful laughter. Why is She laughing at me? Is She pleased? Is She only savouring my humiliation, and/or the effortless ease with which She has effectively exercised Her ability to talk me into humiliating myself at Her leisure and for Her pleasure alone? (That’s not exactly true. I have never been so sexually excited in my entire lifetime.) I do not care. What I do gives Her pleasure. That is all that matters. I am enraptured when Sumurumus is happy. What is pleasant to Her is the only thing of any worth and value and consequence and importance and relevance. Read more…
Entries by jarod whitestaff
- Author name:
- jarod whitestaff
- Publish date:
- June 19th, 2013
- Discussion:
- No Comments
NO PORTION(S) OF THIS STORY, NOR THE WORK IN ITS ENTIRETY, MAY BE STORED, COPIED, TRANSMITTED, ALTERED, OR USED IN ANY OTHER WAY(S) WITHOUT THE EXPRESSED, WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE COPYRIGHT HOLDER.
Now I am standing over Bradford. In the depths of his eyes I can see his unbridled hunger for Me. I allow My thick, lustrous, jet black hair to cascade to its full length. His unwavering eyes, greedy to be engrossed in Gargantuan gluttony of My gorgeousness, show forth his appreciation of this spectacle. Little does he know of the tremendous tortures awaiting him and the plenteous pleasures I have in store for his immediate subjugation, our mutual amusement, and My long overdue coronation in and dominion over his heart, mind, soul, spirit, and body. Read more…
- Author name:
- jarod whitestaff
- Publish date:
- June 19th, 2013
- Discussion:
- No Comments
Why didn’t I want to stop Sumurumus Jacobson from doing whatever witch’s trickery She was up to and casting her spell, or whatever the hell it was, upon me? Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m no Hugh Hefner or Wilt the Stilt Chamberlain. I am also not some Puritanically prudish yokel who fell off the turnip truck before it even arrived at the sticks whose residents considered the heart of Amish country more sinful than Sodom and Gomorrah, Las Vegas, San Francisco, Hollywood, Chicago during prohibition, and Paris all rolled up into one hideously depraved den of decadent debauchery. Why did the idea of being my mother-in-law’s mind slave and sex toy make my heart pound and my cock throb more than all of the erotic experiences I’d ever had all put together? I felt more relaxed than I’d ever been in my whole life. I was more nervous than a sentient turkey living in the United States in early November. Yet, all these conflicting or contradictory or paradoxical thoughts, desires, and emotions seemed to make perfect sense as I gazed into those eyes and was being lulled into some kind of waking sleepiness by that voice of hers now ringing in my brain and echoing inside my mind. I hung on each syllable of her every word. My wife’s stepmother, Sumurumus Jacobson, varied her cadence, changed her pitch, and employed different volume levels. There was no possible way for me to correctly anticipate what She would say next or how she would next say it. All I could do was follow where She led and float along whence She carried me. Read more…
- Author name:
- jarod whitestaff
- Publish date:
- June 19th, 2013
- Discussion:
- No Comments
NO PORTION(S) OF THIS STORY, NOR THE WORK IN ITS ENTIRETY, MAY BE STORED, COPIED, TRANSMITTED, ALTERED, OR USED IN ANY OTHER WAY(S) WITHOUT THE EXPRESSED, WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE COPYRIGHT HOLDER.
Author’s note: This story is dedicated to the lovable, loving, lovely, luxurious, lucid, lusty, laudable GODDESS MISTRESS MARQUESA DE SADE. It should not be read by any minor; nor by anyone who is fearful of, or uncomfortable with, the subject of hypnotic, or any other form(s) of, mind control; nor by any person who is fearful of, or uncomfortable with, the topic of female influence or control or domination; nor by any individual who is prohibited or proscribed from doing so for any legal, religious, ethical, moral, or any other reason(s).
Synopsis: The relationship with one’s in-laws can exert a profound influence on one’s marriage and one’s life. Read more…
- Author name:
- jarod whitestaff
- Publish date:
- June 4th, 2013
- Discussion:
- No Comments
DISCLAIMER:
NO PART(S) OF THIS WORK, NOR THE WORK IN ITS ENTIRETY, MAY BE: ALTERED; COPIED; EXCERPTED; REPRODUCED; STORED IN ANY TYPE OF INFORMATION STORAGE AND/OR RETRIEVAL SYSTEM; TRANSMITTED; OR USED IN ANY OTHER WAY(S) BY ANY MEANS SUCH AS DESKTOP PUBLISHING, ELECTRONIC, MECHANICAL, PHOTOCOPYING, RECORDING, OR ANY OTHER METHOD NOT EXPLICITLY STATED IN THIS DISCLAIMER WITHOUT THE EXPRESSED PERMISSION OF THE COPYRIGHT HOLDER.
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
This story is dedicated to the vivacious and virtuous and voluptuous LADY KRYSTAL MESMER. It should not be read by any minor. It should not be read by anyone who is ethically, legally, morally, religiously, or personally {for any reason(s)} prohibited or proscribed from doing so. It should not be read by anyone who is fearful of, or uncomfortable with, the subject of feminine influence/control/domination/superiority/supremacy/inspiration or the topic of mind control in any of its forms or both.
THANK YOU to Junoesque radio sports talk show host Amy Lawrence. Your recounting your Sadie Hawkins day experiences was the impetus for this tantalizing tale.
Everyone in these parts knows about that Sadie Hawkins gal. And it ain’t just because this is a small town stuck out in the middle of yuh never hurd uh no places ’round heeyarr. I reckon Sadie Hawkins wood’uh been not possible to forget no matter whereabouts she was a livin. For whatever curse’ed reason the Hawkins hant and a grossed uh hanfulls grews up here. Read more…
