He Calls Me Naomi

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A tranny explains how her master controls her life!
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CarrieQ
CarrieQ
159 Followers

He calls me Naomi, though it's not my name. Rather, it's a mnemonic that occurred to him when we first met, after he'd realized I'm a high. Neither a man nor a woman; that's what it reminds him of. That's how he thinks of me...

It's also his induction method. Because wherever I am and whatever I'm doing, if I happen to hear his voice call that name, I fall instantly into a waking trance, and obey all his subsequent commands.

Hypnosis. He's an expert practitioner, and I'm highly susceptible to it. I'm told there aren't too many like me; folk who score maximum points on all those Ivy League university's suggestibility scales.

Some say we highs are weak and gullible - but that's simply not true. We're just rare...

Whenever the phone rings, I'm on my guard, in case it's him.

"Naomi!"

"Yes, Master!"

"I'll be with you in ten minutes - you'll be wearing a blonde wig and pink lingerie!"

"Yes, Master!"

Immediately, I switch off the TV, rush to the bedroom and strip naked. I put on a lacy pink bra with matching panties, a pink camisole and seamed, hold-up stockings of the same hue.

I redo my make-up, using flamingo lipstick that complements his colour scheme, before putting on a platinum blonde wig and donning an ivory kimono. Lastly, from under the bed I retrieve a pair of fluffy, kitten-heeled mule sandals, which also happen to be pink!

It takes me a little over nine minutes to complete this transformation, so when I walk towards the front door, a shadow's in the process of arriving. Like always, I'm just in time to let him in.

"You look very nice - you've done well!"

"Thank you, Master! Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Not now, maybe later. Let's start in the bedroom!"

"Yes, Master!"

He follows me into my bedroom, removes his leather jacket and sits down on the only chair in the room - an armchair facing my bed. Meanwhile I stand in profile, stock still, opposite the open window. As hazy Spring sunshine filters through the net curtains, my breathing remains impeccably regular, and I feel perfectly calm and relaxed as I await his next instruction, without the slightest trepidation.

"Stretch your left leg towards me, and lock it against an imaginary pole," he commands. And unflinchingly, I do as he's asked. I push my leg high up into the air, till every sinew is straining, then feel it chocked firmly against a metal pole, bound fast with a sturdy cuff created by my subconscious mind.

My leg now feels locked rigidly in position. I need make no effort to keep it there, and I still feel calm and relaxed. If needs be, I could stay in this position till the next millennium!

"Good gurl! Now, feel my imaginary finger stroking the seam of your stocking on that elevated leg, slowly and gently, from your ankle right the way up to your thigh..."

It's awkward, explaining how this works! I can clearly see Master, sitting in the armchair several paces from me, yet now I feel his finger, gently stroking the seam of my stocking and tickling my leg, which begins straining against its imaginary bond!

His finger makes its way slowly along my stocking, lingering tortuously over the back of my knee in a way that causes me to flex and convulse. And yet, my imaginary bond holds fast! Still, as he reaches my butt-cheek, there's perspiration forming on my brow...

"Now feel my lips caressing your butt-cheeks - and feel my tongue rimming your hole!"

And I do! He's still in that chair, yet now I feel his lips, warmly kissing my butt-cheek before snuggling into my crack. I sense a stream of hot, damp air snorting down his nostrils, before his moist tongue begins gently rimming my anus, which is beginning to quiver so severely, my ankle strains harshly at its bond.

And yet, it remains firmly in place - locked in the air, and fixed to an imaginary post!

"Very good!" he proclaims at length. "Now release your leg and slowly, while staying calm and relaxed, clamber onto the bed..."

As I follow his instructions, I'm aware he's moving - standing up whilst taking off his trousers. There's a drawer at the side of my dresser, where he keeps his accessories - condoms, cock-rings, lubricants and the like - and he's fond of parking himself there, so I always keep that side of the dresser clear for his convenience.

So now I'm squatting on top of the bed, on all fours, staring out of the window, while he's behind me, contemplating what to make me do next. And truthfully, I don't mind what it is! I'm always comfortable in his presence, and anything he asks of me is just fine...

On past occasions, he's fisted me, a group of his friends have gang-banged me, and I've been sent on a stroll around the railway station, with instructions to sell my body. And each time, I completed my assignment whilst remaining in the state of mind he commanded...

Which was usually calm and relaxed - but not always!

My fisting was a truly weird experience, as I used to have an awful phobia about that. In fact, long before Master found me, I'd shunned some tempting offers to give it a go.

He started pretty much where I am just now - squatting on all fours, on top of my bed. Then he told me to pull down my knickers, and jerk myself off.

As you can imagine, I never touch myself without his express permission. I experience pleasure only when he tells me, and how he tells me.

My orgasms are his creations - gifts doled out only when he feels I've earned them.

To avoid emotional turbulence, he frequently insists I render my boy-bits useless before we start our activities; either by attaching a cock-ring, or else by jerking myself off.

It is best for both of us that he has full control over my emotions!

For my fisting, he instructed me to coarsely rub my boy-bits till my hand was covered with cream, then to smear it on and around my anus.

He made me lubricate myself for his forthcoming pleasure!

An age then passed, slowly, in which I wasn't permitted to move so much as an eye muscle, until finally he pushed his index finger into my bum. Next, he inserted a second finger, then a third, until his whole hand was just one forceful push away from entering me.

As he completed that push, I should have felt tremendous pain - only he instructed me not to...

"As you feel my fist entering your body, you will experience only joy and ecstasy!" he insisted.

And he was right! I couldn't help myself - I loved every long, blissful moment of it!

Right now though, he is only going to fuck me. He's not said as much, but he's just thrown a cock-ring onto the duvet, for me to fit. He likes to have something to handle during a long, hard fuck - something he can play with!

The cock-ring's a tight one - so tight, I'll be totally numb, but that's okay. When he's ready to cum, he'll simply tell me to experience an orgasm - and I will!

It might sound ridiculous, but it's true - when he's about to seed me, he'll tell me to start groaning, and I'll do it.

Overcome with pleasure, I'll moan and groan...

"Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes..."

"Good gurl!" he says, gently stroking my wig as he fires a generous load of warm, salty cum into my backside. And his praise, combined with the glorious feeling of having him inside me, causes me to shiver and shake uncontrollably.

What better kind of orgasm can there ever, possibly be?

Today, he treats me to a fine, long shafting - he's not in a hurry, thank goodness! He starts off by slowly teasing my rim with his cherry, then gives me his whole, beautiful six-inches of stiff, fat meat. All the way in, and hold...

He pulls out completely, fondles my butt cheeks like a connoisseur, then re-enters - pulling me back tightly so I'm aware of every last millimetre of his thick, glorious meat-rod. And only when he's done this a few more times does he finally start to seriously pump my ass...

But once he gets going, boy does he pound me! He's a hard piston inside a soft lining, asserting his superiority by passing down a perfect blend of pleasure and pain.

"You are about to enjoy the ultimate gift," he calmly informs me. "Prepare to express your gratitude!"

"Oh, yes Master! Thank you so much, Master!" I groan, as joyous tears cloud my eyes, causing loose flakes of mascara to blotch on the duvet.

"I'm about to cum," he informs me. "And as I do so, on sensing my seed entering your body, you will experience an orgasm!"

"Yes, Master!" Almost immediately, I feel his cream pumping into my anus, and the strongest spasms imaginable suddenly shoot right through me, causing each of my limbs to quake in sheer, unadulterated ecstasy...

Almost my whole body is affected; in fact, almost every part of me shivers violently, except for my tightly constricted boy-bits, which are so numb they're beyond the equation.

But why should I care about them?!

I mean, with such glorious spasms overwhelming my every sinew and causing me to shake with bliss, why should I mourn for those useless, irrelevant appendages?

Their absence is of no consequence to me, for I know I'm missing absolutely nothing. To the contrary, I am deeply privileged to have Master indulging me like this!

"Oh yes! Oh, yes! Ooh - yes!"

My bum shivers divinely, as I shake and quake while he pumps me full of a heavy, generous load of his warm, creamy spunk.

Withdrawing at last, he commands me to turn around and clean him up. I'm eager to oblige; this task is a special treat for me, because Master's cum and my anal juices mix to make a cream that tastes exactly like lemon sorbet!

I simply adore lemon sorbet, it's my favourite treat - and this particular variety is the most divine you could ever imagine!

So when he asks me to lick him clean with my tongue, it's like being let loose in my favourite candy store...

"Gently!" he's forced to chide, as I eagerly slobber around his gradually deflating manhood. "Remember to stay calm and relaxed!"

Of course, I'm so well conditioned, I hardly need his constant prompts to remain calm and relaxed. But sometimes it's been different - like the time he brought a gang of his friends around, for example.

He'd not told me to expect company, so I thought he was coming alone. When I opened my door to find he'd brought five of his friends with him, I felt my pulse rising uncontrollably. But when I focused on his eyes, he told me to breathe steadily and compose myself...

I was to remain calm and relaxed - for the time being!

I wasn't wearing much; a skimpy little black dress with very high, sling-back sandals and seamed stockings. All my lingerie was black - just like he'd instructed.

"Show my friends into your bedroom!"

"Yes, Master!"

Right from the start, it was clear what they'd come for, and they wasted no time setting about their business...

Now my bedroom's not so big, and they really made a crowd. Before I knew it, the room stank so badly of testosterone, I felt obliged to open the window - and I guess that was their prompt. One of them grabbed my arm, and when I reacted, impulsively trying to push him away, another guy lunged for my waist.

Before I knew it, they were holding me firmly by each of my arms and legs, and I was being stretched across my own, red duvet like Lucifer's saltire. Of course, I was wriggling like there was no tomorrow, cursing them to hell and back - but my exertions were proving futile.

From the outset, I'd never liked the look of those guys - they were unkempt, unwashed and ignorant! And now, the dirtiest of the whole bunch crawled onto the bed. His breath was just awful; he reeked of booze and sick, while his dark yellow teeth strained to form a passable grin as he tore off my panties before taking down his own rotten, dirt-stained jeans...

"Wait!" They paused in their tracks, as Master's commanding voice called over the milieu, demanding calm. And when he snatched my panties out of this vile lecher's filthy hand, I briefly hoped my ordeal was about to be curtailed.

But I was hopelessly wrong...

Smiling benevolently, Master scrunched my panties into a tight little ball and, bidding me open wide, stuffed them forcefully down the back of my throat...

Then, looking deep into my helpless eyes, he commanded: "You do not want to have sex with these men! They are raping you! You will do everything in your power to resist them! Do you hear me? EVERYTHING!"

A dreadful panic overwhelmed me, as I fought and struggled, desperately trying to break free of those awful, filthy dogs who were pinning me down. But it was futile. The lecher who'd removed my panties, smiling through his yellow gob rot, simply drooled onto his cock before forcing himself crudely inside my quivering butt-crack...

I fought and fought, despite the utter futility of it. And tears ran copiously down my cheeks, spoiling my make-up, as one after another, my assailants took turns to fill my bum with their vile loads of warm, odious cum.

When the last of them had enjoyed his pickings, I felt completely degraded. Every square inch of my clothing stank of those brutes - of their sweat, their piss, their utter filth. I curled into a foetal position and, oblivious to their sneers, began crying into my sweaty palms.

"Well done!" It was Master's voice, sweetly and soothingly intruding on my self-pity. "You will sleep now," he continued gently. "And when you awake, fully refreshed, you will remember this experience as a positive one! You will remember how I control you both for good and bad, and how my will is always the one, true path! And you will be grateful to me for revealing this dark side, which you have experienced here today. This dark side which, in the future, you will gain happiness and satisfaction from pursuing!"

"Yes Master," I replied sleepily. "Thank you, Master!"

And what do you know but, looking back, I'm really pleased I went through that experience - even though I'd sooner never repeat it!

You see, when I woke up, I felt absolutely terrific - I've rarely felt anything like so good! And then it struck me how we need to have bad days, or else how can we ever learn to appreciate the good ones? And then I realized how lucky I am, to have Master guiding my life! Without him, truly, I don't know how I'd even begin to cope...

Licking Master's cock clean, and tasting the most delicious lemon sorbet, it's hard to remember that not all blowjobs are such marvellous, gratifying delights. But it's true - they can be really hard work; like the time he ordered me down to the railway station, to sell my body!

It's known as The Arches, that part of town where gurls like me go to be picked up by passing cars. I'd always thought of myself as above that kind of thing, but it turned out, one fine day, that Master had other ideas...

It was a warm evening last Summer, and I was dressed mostly in red. He'd asked me to wear a blouse he'd bought for me, a translucent chiffon number, along with an uncomfortably short skirt and my favourite pair of high heels. It's a sluttish outfit, but he likes it - and so do I!

He arrived later than usual, and I assumed we'd be retiring straight into the bedroom. But that's the thing about Master - he's unpredictable, so it's best never to assume anything!

Greeting him at the door, I was astounded when he informed me I was going out on my own! I was to stroll all the way down to the town's red light area, and put myself on display. And I was not to return until I'd sold my body to a total stranger!

Now, my apartment is in a run-down though fairly central suburb, less than 15 minutes' walk from the town centre. And although it would mean passing through some areas where I might not feel safe, dressed so skimpily after dark, it is hardly my place to question Master's wisdom.

I simply won't do it!

Clip-clopping hazardously along the pavements in four-inch steel-tipped stilettos, my pulse raced as I left the safety of the estate (where at least I'm well known, even if most of my neighbours despise me as a sissy faggot) for the vagaries of the subway, which passes underneath the motorway, taking pedestrians into town.

In the bleak subterranean tunnels, my heels echoed noisily every which way - and who knows who's down there - or what they might be inclined to do with the likes of me!

But I was lucky; it was a quiet night, and I soon emerged unscathed on the other side. That just left the high street to negotiate, before I could divert into the shadowy world behind the railway station...

I arrived under The Arches unscathed, excepting the odd hostile glance and lewd suggestion. But because I'd strolled in from the west, I found myself mingling with the straight hookers - real, genetic girls, who don't always look kindly on the likes of me!

So I quickened my pace, making it clear I wasn't trying to steal their trade, while I hurried on down to the other end, where a couple of other gurls like me were hanging around, leaning against the bricks of those dark old railway arches, while making sure enough of themselves was poking out to show up nicely in the beams of passing car headlights.

I'd simply had no time to catch my breath and introduce myself before a car slowed right down, and my fellow tranny hookers scurried out of the shadows to hit on the driver. I'm sorry to say this, but as they scooted past, there was a distinct air of desperation about them!

Seeing as I was tired from my stroll and didn't want to get into a cat fight over the first john who showed up, I hung back in the shadows. But this only seemed to get the car driver kind of excited...

"You!" he called, sounding annoyed I wasn't crowding around him like the others. "Get over here!"

I strolled over to where he'd parked. "Come closer!" he hissed, so I stood with my skirt in his face, while he put his hand under my little red miniskirt, giving my boy-bits a tight squeeze.

"Okay, I like it! How much for a BJ?"

"Twenty." I panicked. Was that too much or too little?! I'd planned on hanging around a bit with the other gurls and finding out what they charge - but now, it was too late! He looked at me thoughtfully.

"Okay, it's a deal - get in!"

In an atmosphere of silent hostility, I let myself into the back of his car, grateful that looks can't kill! He was Asian, forty-something, with a scar on his left cheek. Would the other gurls let the police know, if he failed to bring me back? Would they care? As he drove me away, I had an awful feeling I'd just made a couple of lifelong enemies I could really do without...

Just around the corner, he pulled over near an abandoned parking lot. It's real dark there, and though you need to be careful and look out for smashed glass, there's a pile of loose carpet and an old, damp mattress that's good to kneel down on...

So it's an excellent spot for giving somebody a discreet blowjob!

This guy was in one hell of a hurry; he'd got his meat-rod out of his pants and was suited up well before I'd even opened the car door! Kneeling on the mattress, I was keenly aware of his impatience. The guy didn't want a long experience, he just wanted to jerk off in my mouth, then be on his way.

Perhaps he was scared the cops would show up? Or maybe his wife was at home, waiting for him to return with those groceries on the back seat?

Whatever his motivations, it was the fastest blowjob I'd ever given. No licking around his balls before working slowly up his stem, then popping his cherry delectably into my mouth. No, he was straight down the back of my throat...

I slurped a lot, while he pumped away, holding my head firmly where it suited, so he could get a good, long thrust. I swear he'd have choked me if it had gone on a long time - but it didn't...

In fact, 15 minutes hadn't passed before I was using the map outside the railway station as a mirror, to redo my lipstick before walking home to Master...

That walk was scary, especially in the subway. Late in the night the gangs might be gone, but the homeless move in, and it becomes their place - their territory. Of course nowadays, they're mostly my friends! I pass them on my walk home, pretty much every night, and we enjoy a chat!

CarrieQ
CarrieQ
159 Followers
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