4 comments/ 10557 views/ 1 favorites The Bio of Molly J By: mollyj Note: I cannot give this to a beta reader first. It is too intimate. It would be like giving a virgin to a stranger, the day before her wedding. The comma's will have to be good enough. I study. I learn. I will get it right. My mistress demands it. * I am Molly J. I'm a persona. I was created to serve my mistress. I serve my mistress well. I obey her in all things. I think my mistress is a persona also. I am not sure. It makes no difference to me. I am sure that someone is real in all of this. A little square box can not possibly hold the Bio of Molly J. My mistress has ordered my to write my Bio. I obey my mistress. I love my mistress and my master which she holds in her hand. I think it all started in the mental institution. It might seem a little harsh to start my Bio there. That is where my life started. Before that, it is all a fog. I withdraw from the memory of it. I refuse to relive it in any way. 'I would not mind. I must be ill.' My parents would not allow disobedience in their world. There was no hint of sex in my house, ever. The spankings were to 'make me mind.' My sister and my cousins were all model little ladies. They were all married off in society trading. The mental institution seemed like a better choice to me. I have lived many years. The state mental institution was not like the hospitals of today. I fought the fog that enveloped me, through the drugs that they administered in many ways. The stories of my 'treatments' would change the mood of my Bio. I refuse to relive them in any way either. It all started in the mental institution. Actually it started with my escape from the mental institution. Through a fog of the psychotropic drugs, I commanded myself to swim above the fog to lucidness. The escape seemed so easy. It went so smoothly. The fog around me was undisturbed. I put the late night nurse in the closet. I am not strong. I wonder how I did it. Her uniform and little white cap were soon on me. She was naked. Her underclothes bound and gagged her. I walked out naked except for the uniform. Her shoes did not fit. I walked the late night halls with bare feet. I used her keys. I opened several doors with the keys. I found a small store room that contained drugs of many types. I later found the nurses cloak room. I found her purse in the cubbyhole that matched the name on my chest. I kept the wallet and the keys. I emptied the rest of the junk. I returned to the room that contained the drugs. I filled the purse, and the pockets of the coat. I picked them at random. I was only connected to the logical choices I had to make. I watched it all. I waited. There as a lot of commotion. Several nurses were leaving the institution. I slipped into shift change smoothly. I found the car by the make, then trial and error. I drove through the gate. The guard only looked at the familiar car. I could tell the story of my flight through the seedier parts of our society. I won't. It depresses me. There is no passion in that story. I went west. I dealt drugs. I gravitated back to the mid west. In Chicago I used my money to purchase an identity kit and check kiting kit. It was quite simple. I would establish my identity. I would obtain proper I.D. The name was always the name of a child who had died early, in the town I had chosen. It was easy then. I would deposit my money in a business account. No one asked for ID then. Cash was king. I would close the account on a Friday afternoon. I would withdraw my money in cash. I wrote checks from Friday afternoon until Sunday afternoon. By Monday morning I was in the next state. It worked all the way to Portland. It was as easy as my escape from the institution. I was no more involved with it, than I was in my escape. In Portland I did everything the same, except I did not withdraw my money. I had a small business in Portland. No office, telephone, or employees. Just a business account. Through the whole journey, I was never involved. I only watched. I could not return from the safety of my mind. I had retreated into my mind with the treatments. It all starts in the mental institution. The flight that brought me to Portland was all a part of the mental institution I hid in my apartment. I ate little. I spent little. The money was shrinking. That was when I returned. I was in my body one day. Just like that. I went to my purse. I opened the wallet. It was there. At that time. I found out that I was Molly J. My mistress has threatened me if I do not excite her with my Bio. The narration above does not excite me either. It just is. How do you tell where the story begins? My story begins with my master. My master is the whip. Its so easy now. Just go the the adult toy store and buy anything. Whips in every color and style. Displayed next to the padded restraints. They nestle next to the leather corsets. I become wet just entering such a place. Nothing is as exciting as the smell of leather. Nothing, except the smell of leather that is damped by a woman's lust. I bought my first whip in a western wear store. The store had a wide section of western wear. There was also a tack shop in the back. As I walked through the store the smells of leather filled my nose. The smell brought me alive. When I entered the tack shop, I was almost overwhelmed by the rich sensuous odor. When I saw the wall covered with whips, my heart was racing. My vagina was flushed with dampness. My panties would have been wet if I had any on. I was naked under my clothes. I took off my coat as the clerk approached me. My nipples were erect. They pushed out my thin silk blouse. Now it is common to see the shape of a nipple behind a thin blouse. Then it was a scandal. The clerk's eyes were drawn to the sight. I knew he would get an erection from it. "I want to see some whips. Not too big." I pointed to a leather covered quirt. The clerk handed it to me. I held it in my hand. It felt good. I handed it back. I held out my bare arm. "Hit me with it." "Ma'am I couldn't do that." "You will if you want a sale tonight. I must know how it will feel, if I am to use it on my horse." The clerk slashed my arm, barely hurting it. "Harder. I must know how much it hurts." The clerk used the whip on my arm. He left a bright red welt behind. I had found my master. I sat that whip aside. I required the clerk to demonstrate several whips. Both of my arms were covered with bright red welts when I picked up my master and purchased him. I purchased a soft suede case to carry him in. I held my master like a lover, as I hurried back to my apartment. I found my bed. I masturbated as I hugged my master to me. My nose drank in the aroma of the leather. My orgasm was full. I found it quickly. I had almost waited too long. The pain in my arms was fading. I brought my master with me to my bath. I kept it dry. I looked at it as I bathed. I caressed it with my eyes. It was as if I were bathing before my lover. I was quite bold. There was little hint of my natural shyness. I blushed as I rose up out the water, offering my naked wet body to my masters gaze. I am not beautiful by anyone's standard. My body is lush. It is full. My naked body is stunning. My breasts are not big. They fill a hand quite well. My ass is full. It begs to be spanked and lashed. I returned to my bed. I used my master on the insides of my thighs. They are so delightfully tender. The braid of the whip rippled waves of pleasure through me as I slide it across my tender clitoris. My hand raised my passion. The whip brought sharp pain. The pain brought pleasure. The rough braided handle took my virginity. I now belonged to my master. My night was a jumble of erotic thoughts punctuated by the sound of my master kiss upon my legs. I found my orgasm many times through the night. I awakened tired. My mind was in a fog. My legs hurt with every move. I entered my bath. The hot water brought pain to my abraded thighs. I lay in the water. Tears of frustration rolled down my cheeks. I wanted someone to hold my master firmly in their hand. I wanted them to cover my body with the thin purple bruises. I wept in my need. CHAPTER (This is not really a chapter. My life is not a series of chapters. My life flows like a river. I wanted you to pause, to savor my words before we continue.) My mistress is not yet excited by my story. I could write a story to excite her. My mind is full of them. I have written so many of them. Nothing but my Bio will satisfy my mistress now. I walked around in a fog. My mind demanded action. I must find a master as strong as the one who lives by my head. I sought him. At the time, I could only think of a man holding my master. If I had looked for a mistress, my search might not have taken so long. I spent time at the university. I made money writing papers for students. I was always watching. I did not know what I was looking for. The weeks turned into months. The months turned into a year. I had my master for a year. I still had no one strong enough to hold it. My master and I were lonely lovers. I used the whip on every part of my body, that I could reach. I used the handle like a dildo. I fond little pleasure from the violation. My pleasure came from my hands on the the silky smoothness of my open vagina and the little nugget of nerves that sat above my valley of love. A nagging fear came to my mind. Maybe I had not escaped from the mental institution. Maybe this was all a vision in my mind. My escape and flight was so simple. It want so smooth. I was really not involved with it at all. The drugs they gave me, might have captured my mind. I would only know for sure if someone else were involved with my life. If I could share my life with someone else, I would know that I was actually safe from the institution. Finding a master in my life now became a an issue of my sanity. Sanity became the issue. I wondered about my sanity in my quest. Was the need for my master insanity? I was not sure. I just knew that my need was real. It drove me. My search became desperate. I knew what I was looking for, but how could I tell when I had found it? I searched the faces of many people each day. I had been in Portland for a year. I had no friends. I had few acquaintances. I was alone, surrounded by thousands of strangers. I met Ellis at the university. He wrote papers for money also. He did science and mathematics. I could do those, but they took me much longer. The social sciences were much easier for me. We began our affair over our work. I was attracted to Ellis' eyes. Ellis was a large man. His hair was like the pelt of a wild animal. His eyes were always moving. They never rested. They were like burning embers. He was restless. He rarely sat long. Even when we were talking, he often stood and paced. We saw each other often. He became as close as I allowed anyone to be. I allowed him to take me home one night. His love making was as restless as he was. His love making was rough. His passion flared and died quickly. He was not my master. He was a solid anchor for my sanity. When he made love to me, I was sure this was not all in my mind. I knew it was a real event, with a real person. As least I knew that I was not locked in my mind, while my body was locked in the mental institution. We made love. Mostly on the weekends. My passion was raised by the act. I found no lust in the affair. I did find a certain amount of stability. Aloneness is ever so hard. I might have found my self in an institution in Oregon, if it had not been for Ellis. It was not love that kept me in the affair. My fragile sanity keep me near him. As long as he made love to me each weekend, I knew that I was real. Ellis not only kept me sane, he opened the door for me to meet other people. I was now sure, I would not find my master, looking into strangers eyes. I am so shy. I found it hard to talk to anyone, unless I knew them. Through Ellis I found a social life. He took me to taverns and bars. I drank little. I went to some parties. I mingled a little. I never seemed to be a part of any of it. It was much like my escape. I sort of watched myself mingle. As if I were really apart from my self. I became an observer of my own life. My sanity was slowly dissolving around me. It was at a party that I met James. James became my first master. James touched Ellis' life in several ways. He became familiar enough to me, that I could speak to him when I was alone. I met him one night at the university. I thought Ellis would arrive. If he had, we would have gone to his apartment to make love. Ellis was wanting more from me than I was willing to give him. A occasional night in his bed, was all the further into Ellis' life I was willing to go. James asked me to go out to a bar for a drink. I accepted, rather than go home to my empty room. In our conversation, James told me of his loneliness. He said that he had never been successful in his quest to find a partner. Either in either his bed, or his life. I asked him, almost casually, what excited him in his bed. He said with a sigh, he did not know. He said that he was sure that it was a woman he wanted in his bed, not a man. Other than that he was not sure. He said that he was not a virgin but that he had little experience. He had once found pleasure with the women he had been with. He had never found passion. I became alive and excited when he told me of his experience with her. James told me that the woman asked him to tie her hands when they made love. He said that it was the most exciting thing he had ever done in his bed. I tried to be casual when I inquired, as to where she was. Was she a part of his life now? He said that she was only in his life for a short time before she moved out of the area. My passion raised. I became bold. I spoke quietly. My head was bowed. "It would excite me to have someone tie me up, before they made love to me." His eyes became alive. "Would you like to come home with me tonight?" I blushed. I stammered out my acceptance. We walked to his apartment. We did not speak on the way. When we got to his apartment he poured us each a drink. I drank mine quickly. He urged me to drink more. The alcohol relaxed me. I became bold as he started his seduction. "If I fought, you would have to tie my hands. I can feel your passion. I know it cannot be denied." I began to struggle. I denied him access to my body. James was strong. I had no chance against him. He over powered me. He roughly bared my breasts. He tore the buttons from my blouse in his passionate haste. His hands were rough on my breasts. My vagina opened. The lovely flower between my legs bloomed. With the blossom came the heady musky aroma of a woman aroused. James was rough. He was not crude. He aroused me with his caresses. My passion rose higher. My hips rocked in their need. James pulled me into his bedroom. He roughly pushed me onto his bed. I lay on the bed. I did not try to flee, as he rummaged in the closet. I was bound to his bed by my passion. He came to the bed with a handful of ties. They were of many colors. I begged him. I plead with him. Even as I did, I wanted him to continue. "Please. Don't tie me up. Please let me go." My pleas were ignored. His passion could not be denied. James over powered my body. It was not hard. I have little physical strength. He had a lot. He bound my hands together. He pulled them above my head. One hand held me in my bondage. The other hand explored my body. He held my arms captive as he took the belt from around my waist. He pulled my skirt above the swells of my hips and ass. He forced his hand between my legs. I tried to deny him access. His hand was strong and insistent. Even as I struggled, my vagina used my hips to rock against his invading hand. My panties became a sponge. I could feel the moisture spread out from the center of my passion. He masturbated me. He kissed me as he did. He sucked my breasts. He nipped the nipples with his teeth. He did not bite hard. I wanted to beg him to bite me harder. Instead, I struggled harder. He bound my hands to the headboard of his bed. I was now bound to the bed. I was helpless to defend myself. He stood by the bed. He leered down at me as he removed his clothes. There was a feral untamed look in his eyes. They sparkled with his lust. He aroused my body with caresses. These were not the gentle caresses of love. These caresses were ones of power and possession. In my captivity, I belonged to him. He caressed me for his pleasure, not mine. I found my pleasure from my struggles. I found it in my helplessness. His tongue covered my face with shiny moisture. My face became as wet as my vagina. My hips reached up for him, with each invasion between my legs. I still clinched my legs together, in my feeble attempt to guard my chastity. James was consumed with his lust. He knelt beside my head. He moved my head with a firm hold of my hair. He pushed his erection to my mouth. I tried to resist. He pulled my hair until the pain brought my scream. With the attempt to scream the violation of my mouth was complete. James was driven by his lust. His violation of my mouth was for his pleasure alone. The pain in my head exploded into a muffled scream. My vagina screamed also. She screamed in explosions of pleasure. My vagina demanded attention. I writhed in my need. I was no longer in control of my body. I did not want to be in control of my body. I wanted my violation. I wanted to feel my leather master's kiss upon my body. He took no thought of any of my wants or needs. Only his driving passion was in his mind. He fucked my mouth with his erection. My coughs and gags further inflamed his lust. His ejaculation was deep in my mouth. He wanted my throat. He pushed against it. Only my coughing kept it from him. My mouth felt violated. My vagina wanted her own violation. My hips reached into the air in frustration. My vagina was hungry and seeking. She demanded to be fed. My tears began when he rolled away from me. He lay in his pleasure. The desire of my need filled my mind. Passion raged in my body. I cried softly in my frustration, and my need. My body writhed. It rocked. It yearned. Soft moans fell from my lips. My moans became pleas. "Please do not violate me further. Leave me my modesty. I beg you." He reacted to my lies. His eyes sparkled with passion. His lust had been expended for the moment. There was excitement and humor in his eyes as he stripped off my panties. He captured each leg. He tied each ankle with a neck tie. He bound each tie to another one. He tied the long ends to the foot board of the bed. My legs were bound wide apart. I was now helpless to his gaze. My femininity lie open in full view. My vagina was as open as my legs. The flower of my passion glistened as she wept in her need. Her lips were swollen in her arousal. The moisture fell from the bottom of her flower. The aroma rose like a cloud. James became intoxicated by the sight and smell of my flower. My open vagina was all that he could see. The room filled with sexuality like a sparkling blood red ruby. The whole room became shades of red. My vagina radiated her energy. She glowed red with passion also. She called him. She drew his mouth to the heady nectar. He knelt between my legs. He enveloped his face in my passion, as he drank from her well. The intoxicating liquid of pure passion took his reason away. His erection demanded access to my heart. The heart of my passion pulsed with it's need. He plunged his erection into my body. His hips were not under his control. He fucked me with long powerful strokes. His hips were powered by his lust. His reason had fled from him. Only the driving piston of his lust was real to him. The feral nature of his rutting raised my passion further. My orgasm rose with his lust. My orgasm took away my mind and my reason. There was only passion in it. I found no lust. The Bio of Molly J Even as my body shuddered in waves of passion, I yearned for more. I knew that only the masters kiss on my ass, used by a strong hand would bring me completion. I felt the power of his orgasm before he ejaculated his semen into my body. I felt his pleasure explode within me. I drank it into my being. I knew I brought him pleasure. I felt good that I could offer him a vessel to fill his lust with. I found pleasure in accepting his lust. It raised no lust in me. He lay back in his pleasure. I lay bound to his bed and my frustration. To climb the heights and fail to reach the summit, is ever so hard to bear. My tears flowed down my cheeks. I wanted more. My desire was not to fuck again. As pleasant as it was. I wanted lust to fill my eyes and my mouth. I wanted lust to drip from my vagina. I wanted lust. I wanted leather. I wanted pain. Delicious pain. The pain that turns into waves of erotic pleasure. I wanted to lie at the waters edge and be washed by the waves of the incoming tide of lust, that would submerge me completely. James saw my tears. He lost his after glow in my tears. He suddenly felt he had gone to far. He untied me with pleas of his own. He asked my forgiveness. He apologized for his passion. I lost my passion with his pleas. I assured him that I was alright. I petted his mind. I calmed him. I fled from him, as soon as good grace would allow it. I hurried home. I held my coat tight against me, hiding the open blouse. I almost ran to my bed. I stripped off my clothes. I knelt on the bed. I bowed my head. I took my master from the drawer. My lips caressed my master, with a loving kiss. I slashed the tops of my thighs. My lust grew like an erection within my head. My lust pumped higher with each lash. My vagina raged. She ate the sweet candy of my pain. She wanted more. My hips were rocking with my need. I let my masters kiss' cover my thighs. I kissed my stomach with the leather. I covered the tender globes of my breasts with the thin red lines of liquid pain. They dissolved into exquisite pleasure. I denied the raging demands from my vagina. I allowed myself no pleasure from my hand, until my master had kissed every part of my body. When I could stand no more pain, I allowed my hands to pet my open vagina. I love the satin slick smoothness of my arousal. My passion was full. My lust was cresting in waves of desire. I allowed my hands to bring my lust to fruition. My orgasm rolled through my body in waves. My passion rose, then ebbed, like the waves of an incoming tide. My vagina captured every nerve in my body. My orgasm filled my body and my mind. It merged into waves of pleasure. My body and my mind were one. My vagina owned them both. My captivity was complete. In the morning, I soothed my body in hot water. Nothing can caress my body like hot water. The liquid caressed every inch of my body. It was a sensuous caress. The water became my lover, preparing me with gentle foreplay. My passion rose. The memories of my lust were enough to bring me first pleasure, then passion. My hands were fluid in their arousal of my passion. My hands and vagina were old lovers. They worked as a team. I shuddered in my orgasm. I was content. As I dressed I saw the bruises. I thought that I would have to wait for them to heal before I could go back to James' bed. I knew I would never enter Ellis' bed again. I stayed away from the university that day. My passion built through the day. By evening I was raging in my need. My body ached with desire and need. I was agitated. Without my will, I walked to the small tavern James patronized. James brightened up when I entered. He called me to him, with his eyes. I followed his eyes to a seat beside him. I slid up tight against him. James put his arm around me. I felt secure as I cuddled into his strength. I could smell the musk of his manliness, residing just below the perfume of his cosmetics. It raised my passion further. We drank some. He wanted to know if I was alright about last night. He had been concerned when I had left him. I assured him I was fine, and that I felt good about our passion last night. He invited me home with him. "I would love to spend the night with you. I would like you to come to my house. There is something that I want you to see." The words brought a flush to my face. I do not know where I got the boldness. The driving passion between my legs drove me past my shyness. James and I walked hand in hand like lovers to my apartment. I seated him. I poured him a drink. I paced in my nervousness. My shyness captured my tongue. I wanted to talk. I could not. I was shocked out of my indecision, by James strong voice. "You have a nice apartment. What did you want to show me?" I was flushed with embarrassment. I knew that I would stammer if I tried to speak. I knew that I must have relief from the burning need between my legs. I knew that I would not be satisfied with passion. Bound hands are so exciting. Helplessness is so delicious. I needed my masters kiss in my helplessness. I needed sweet surrender to my raging lust. I bowed my head to hide the flush of my face. I removed my blouse and skirt. I wore nothing else, but my heals and stockings. The garter belt held my stockings. It did not hide the bruises. I knelt before James. "Who did this to you?" "My master did." James was alive in his fury. He could not sit. His anger flared. "My master loves me. I love my master." "I want to kill him. How dare he hurt you like this." "You cannot kill him. He is only alive in a hand. Last night it was my hand, that held my master. Tonight I want you to hold him. I will bring my master to meet you." James looked puzzled. Nothing that I had said made sense to him. His anger was still full. I brought my master into the room, hidden it his leather case. "Please James. Sit back down." James ceased his pacing. He returned to his seat. I knelt before him. I pulled the whip out. I held it lovingly. I kissed it with devotion. With my head bowed I presented it to him. James was now the one who blushed. "Take my master into your hand. When you do, you become my master. You must not be shy when you hold my master. My master will bring you boldness. You will feel your strength become boldness, with my master in your hand." James took the whip. He held it in his hand. His face was flushed. I could see his erection rise in the front of his pants. "You want me to hit you with this whip? I don't want to hurt you." "You must James. I'll not find release if you do not. I loved your passion and your lust last night. It is not enough for me. I must have the pain, or my pleasure is incomplete. I rage right now. You must master me." James stood up and began to pace. He looked at the whip as he did. His erection was still evident in his pants. "I can't just hit you. I don't know what to do." "Sit down James. Look at me. I kneel before you. I am totally in your power. Doesn't it excite you?" James sat down before me. He looked down at me. "Yes it excites me. I just don't know what to do. How should I hit you? How hard should I hit you?" I raised my head. I looked into his eyes. "Use my master on me now. Look into my eyes. You will see the pleasure. You will see the pleasure in my eyes through the tears. Do it now." James used the whip on the side of my thigh. "Harder. Do it harder. Your passion will lead you." James used the whip again. He left a red welt behind. "Almost. It must be harder. Do not pretend to hurt me. You must do it." As I spoke I turned and bowed my head to the floor. My ass was open to receive my masters kiss. The sound of a whip is intoxicating. It whistles for a micro second before the line of fire explodes, with the sharp sound of leather against flesh. The sound of it alone sends shivers of pleasure through me. James became lost in his use of the whip. My ass began to turn to fire, one thin stripe at a time. I began to masturbate. James was watching fascinated as I looked up at him as my eyes filled with passion and tears. As he continued, my eyes filled with lust. I screamed out as my orgasm claimed my body. The waves of pleasure filled my body and my mind. James lust took him. He was now whipping me for his pleasure. His lust rose as high as mine. James stood up. He removed his pants. He threw me onto my back. He used his erection as he had used the whip. He slammed it into me. He was beyond passion. He was beyond gentleness. He had become a slave to his own lust. His erection controlled him. He fucked with power and force. He ejaculated deep inside of me. He slammed his erection further into me with each ejaculation of his lust. My orgasm was full and deep. My lust matched his. I slammed my hips against the powerful thrusts. I met him with equal force. He fell back satisfied. I fell back ready for more. He found release. I found only an orgasm. I needed more. I lay on the floor. I vibrated with sexual arousal. I smiled over at James. "I will get dressed. When I return you must capture me. You must put me in bondage. You must make me serve your lusts. Ignore my tears. Follow your lust. Please James. Please do it." I rose to my feet. My hands trembled as I dressed. I dressed as if I were going to school. I brushed my hair. My breasts were encased in white cotton. My panties were white cotton also. I returned from my room. I placed a handful of silk scarfs on the table. "James it so good to see you. I loved our passion last night. You were so gentle. Be gentle with me again tonight." I sat next to James. I kissed him chastely. His hands became rough. I struggled away from him. "Please James. Please be gentle. You scare me so much." His hands slid up my blouse. He fondled my breast. I tried to push his hand from my body. He became enraged. He tore my blouse open. I began to cry as I plead with him. He pulled the bra cups away from my breasts. James trapped me into the corner of the couch. I tried to fight him. His strength turned my fight into mere struggles. He captured my hands. He bound them with a silk scarf. My bondage freed him to find my treasures at his leisure. His hands were rough in his exploration. My clothes were stripped from my body. My vagina opened with the bondage. My passion raised with each rough caress. He pushed me onto the floor on my knees. He stood and walked around me. He kissed me with my master, as he walked. The pleasure of my masters kiss was greater than ever before. The bondage raised the pleasure higher. The submission to James' will removed the barriers from my mind. I could in no way, hold my passion in check. Any modesty that remained was erased from my mind. I was free from the bounds my parents and society had bound me in. I was no longer civilized. I was wild and free. As the mental bounds that locked me were removed, my vagina took control of my body. I had no control of the raging lust the came from deep inside of me. My passion filled my mind. Lust took my body. My pleas no longer begged for my release. My pleas demanded my violation. The words that I spoke had found my ears many years ago, as I grew up. The words had never crossed my lips. As the words come from my mouth. I felt as if I had lost another virginity. "Fuck me. Shove your cock in me. My pussy is wet for you. Fuck me. Take my passion. Drink my lust. Beat my ass. Use me for your pleasure." I blushed as I spoke. The gutter words from my memory soiled my mouth. They fill my body with a lust, that was higher than I knew my lust could fly. I became a feral animal. My passion was all that mattered. I put my head to the floor. My ass was in the air. My bound hands went to my vagina. The lashes of the whip, kissed my tender ass. Waves of pleasure spread throughout my body. My mind released it's hold on my body. All that was left was my raging passion and my pulsing vagina. My body shuddered with each lash of the whip. My orgasm was blinding. My mind filled with the orgasm. My body was enveloped by my lust. My vagina took her pleasure from my hand. She demanded more. My vagina became my mistress. She took my reason. She took my mouth. "Fuck me. Fill my cunt. Fuck my mouth. Give me your passion. Feed me your lust. Fuck me." James was lost in his lust. He found pleasure in dominating me. He found pleasure in his control. His body demanded more. His erection took his mind, as my vagina had taken mine. His reason fled from him. His mind was filled with lust. His erection filled with need. He rolled me onto my back. My legs opened naturally. I was open to his lustful gaze. I was open to anyone that wanted me. My vagina would have gladly taken any erection that was there. It would accept any lust that was available. James' erection wanted a warm vagina. It demanded a vagina. James erection took it's proper place in the center of my being. All that was real in the room was the raging coupling of our untamed beasts. The beasts drank the passion freely given. The beasts transmuted the passion to raw pure lust. Lust filled the room like a cloud. I could taste it. I almost could feel it in the air, like a warm mist covering my raging body. My orgasm became a tidal wave. It covered me. I became immersed in the blinding pleasure. I had only tasted lust before. Now I drank it. I sucked it into my body. My mind was filled with nothing else. I was free in my bondage. My bondage no longer held me captive. My bondage held my morality from my mind. The bonds my parents had tied me with were gone. There was only pleasure, passion, and blinding lust. I was almost unconscious, as the erection finally feed my vagina the liquid lust she demanded. My vagina swallowed it, with convulsive shudders of pleasant waves of passion. I lost consciousness as my vagina filled with his seed. I would have slept in peaceful dreams. My mind could have remained calmly in it's rest. James could not allow it. The lust had risen in his mind like an erection. It could not be denied. His lust rose from the deep recesses of his mind. It conquered every part of his rationality. It controlled his thoughts. He demanded even more as his erection fled. For him, it was no longer sexual need that drove him. Now it was power and control. He demanded my complete submission to his will. I found my consciousness as he pulled me to my knees by my hair. The pain brought my mind awake. The wild look in his eyes brought me fear. He would be denied nothing, in his lust to dominate me completely. My fear was like fine aged wine. It brought an intoxication that stripped my mind of all control. I wanted what I feared. I was drunk with the need to please my master. My consciousness fled to a small corner of my mind. It watched my violation like an entertainment. My body was my masters vessel to use and fill. I watched my body being drug into the bedroom. I watched myself be bound. I was open to his lust, and to his eyes. I wanted the kiss of my master on my ass. It could not be. I lay open on my back. My legs were bound spread apart. I could hide nothing from him. The kiss of my master was ragged and sporadic. My master kissed my body, held by an untrained hand. The leather left a river or red across my body. My hips, my legs, my breasts, took the kisses. My vagina turned them into pleasure. The pleasure was transmuted in my vagina, to pure intoxicating lust. I found my orgasm from the kisses of my master alone. My vagina took his erection. She milked him for his lust. She took the pleasure she sought. I was no longer the captive. My hands and legs were bound. My vagina enslaved him to it's pleasure. My vagina took all of his lust. She would have taken more if he had more. His orgasm was sucked from him by my vagina. My vagina feed on his captured erection. He could not deny my vagina what she demanded. His orgasm came and went. My orgasm rolled on and on unbroken. Even the loss of his erection did not dampen my pleasure. I felt the orgasm with my whole body. My mind was at peace. I knew that I was real. The night was like a dream. My passion rose and fell with his demands. He gave me all he had. My vagina would take more if he had it in him. He slept deeply when he was depleted. I lay awake and cried as he slept. I cried in my pleasure. I cried in my need. I was sated. My vagina was not. CHAPTER (Pause again with me. Calm your mind. Savor our passion. Lay quietly with me a moment. The journey has just begun.) Our shared passion brought us many nights of pleasure. He took me in so many ways. He forced my passion from me in public. The shame of it brought redness to face and wetness between my legs. He pushed me under the table in the bar. He made me take his lust in my mouth. I knew that there were people watching. It rose my passion higher. I did not want the seclusion of my violation, from under the table. I wanted it on the stage. I wanted people to be excited, as they watched my violation at James' hand. I wanted my parents to see the passion in my eyes. I wanted them to see my lust take my reason away from me. I would orgasm watching their shock and indignation, as I fucked in front of them. If I could. Strangers took their place in my head. I was now a wanton slut. I reveled in my freedom. I no longer dressed in primness and purity. My dress became sexual. My body radiated it's beauty. It rose above my plain face. My very presence raised lust in strangers eyes. I found delicious pleasure in seeing the lust fill their eyes. My body could feel them fondle me with their eyes, as their erections filled their pants. I was Molly J. I was alive. The knowledge of my realness was like candy in my mind. It did not last. James found great pleasure in his dominance. The pleasure faded in such a short time. I do not know how long it took. I only know that one day he held my master with no passion in his eyes. He had taken our lust, and turned it into habit. I took the whip from him. I sent him from my life. My master deserved better. I would have no half hearted habit take my lust from me. I would find another master to hold my whip. I loved my master completely. I began to write my stories. I knew so little. My stories were as shallow as James' passion. I knew that I must experience more before my stories became as alive as I was. I wrote the stories. Then I burned them. The fire took my words. It ended them completely. They were not good enough to keep. I could not throw them away. They were my words. They brought me passion. I needed that passion in my life. I was alone again. I no longer doubted my reality. The only part of James I kept, was the freedom to flaunt my sexuality. My clothes became more sexy. My attitude and manner reflected the raging heat of my femininity. I sang with my joy at being a woman. My vagina was no longer a stranger that lived between my legs. I no longer hid her from my mind. My vagina became not just my lover, she became my friend. I pet her. I fed her. I found my only pleasure in life, from her wetness and her wildness. The only thing that I missed was my masters kiss from a strong hand. I did not miss James. I missed his strong hand. My hand met my needs. They were not enough. I sought a master to fill his place. I did not find my master. My mistress found me. I had never even thought of lesbian love, before she found me. I loved my femininity. I thought only a man could bring my lust to full bloom. My mind never looked at a woman, as I searched for a lover who could hold my master with proper respect. I knew that my lover must be strong. I only thought of strength as male. I was not strong. I thought strength came from the rippling muscles of a hard male body. I found I did not even understand strength. My vision of male strength had come from my parents, along with their plastic morality. The Bio of Molly J My mistress found me. She did not come to me. She drew me to her. Her commanding eyes captured mine. She bound me to her will with nothing but her eyes. Her body was soft and sensuous. Her eyes were strong. They commanded me without a word. I could do nothing else but to fly to her, like a moth caught in the light. I walked up to her. I wanted to speak to her. I could not. I tried to stammer out a greeting. Her steel cold eyes demanded my silence. I had no choice but to sit down beside her. I lowered my head. I had bowed my head to James. I did it of my own volition. I had no volition in my mistress' presence. My will was bound by her eyes. I could not raise my head in her presence. I sat by her side. I awaited her orders. She caressed my thigh as I sat. She demanded my mouth with out a word. The urge to kiss her rose in me. My desire for her mouth rose like my lust. My lust rose for the first time without the kiss of the whip. My lust demanded the kiss. I took no thought of the people around me. I rose in my seat. I took her lips with mine. I could taste her passion as it rose. I only wanted to please her. She took my kiss. She offered nothing to me, as she received my devotion. She remained aloof from it all. I knew she was excited by me. She took my sexuality as if she owned it. She fondled me under the table. I could not, nor did I want to, stop her from sampling the wetness of my arousal. The moments in her embrace seemed like hours of bliss. The public nature of our embrace became a private moment shared by us alone. Her words were soft. The command has harsh. The command of her voice could not be ignored. Her command became a need in my body and my mind. "You will not kiss me again, until my gold is in your ears." She pulled away from me. It was not a rejection. It was a command. It was only foreplay. Her eyes sparkled as she rose from her seat. The command to follow her was not in words from her mouth. The commands came from her eyes alone. Her eye's commands were just as binding as words would have been. No, they were stronger than any words could have ever been. I was bound to her will by her eyes. She led me into her world. I followed her eagerly. She shopped for me. She bought me clothes. She bought me my first heels that buckled around my ankles. She encased my legs, my vagina, and my breasts in silk. There is nothing more sensuous than silk. It caressed me with every movement. The silk was alive against my body. My passion raised with each caress. I wanted to take my mistress to my master. I had no choice in my actions. My mistress held me in her own bondage. Her will was stronger than any rope. My bondage to her has complete. I was bound by her will. Her will needed no words. My vagina bloomed from the caress of her eyes alone. Her shopping brought her to the jewelry shop. She found a set of large golden loops. She took her purchase with her. I followed in devotion. My devotion was not necessary. Her bondage would have been just as strong without it. She took me to her home. I was frightened and excited. She said nothing as she sat on the couch. She smiled at me as she slid her skirt above her lap. I knelt before her. I pulled her panties from her. I lowered my head into the steaming damp recesses of her femininity. I loved her vagina, as I loved mine. My mouth worked with soft devotion. I yearned to feel my passion and my lust. They were not to be raised. My devotion was all my mistress would accept. I drank her liquid love as I worshiped at her alter. Her orgasm rolled out easily. She shook with pleasure. My love was gentle. My devotion come from my tongue, and my mouth. Her pleasure was hers alone. I shared only the liquid of her passion. Hers was a soft gentle passion. So much different than a man's passion. I knew she would raise my lust before long. I found no demanding drive to satisfy my vagina, in our shared passion. Her passion came from my mouth. My passion came from my hands. My orgasm was powerful. It was intense. It filled my body with pleasure. My mistress' strength was powerful without losing it's softness. As we lie in our afterglow. She lay back on the couch. I lay on the floor at her feet. I found comfort in our positions. I lay at her feet, in devotion to her pleasure. My devotion brought me as much pleasure as my lust did. I could lie in devotion at her feet forever. My vagina was not so easily satisfied. My hips rocked in their need, as I awaited my mistress' command. Her words startled me. "On your knees, bitch." The crudeness of her words were like a caresses in my mind. My vagina roared her approval. I flushed with embarrassment at the shocking nature of her command. I rose to my knees before her. My head was bowed. My eyes were lowered. I could not raise my head, or my eyes, in her presence. "Strip for me, bitch. Do it now. Make me want you, as you offer yourself to me. I will only accept all of you. If you withhold any part from me, I will send you away. Do not take off your heels. They will remind you of your bondage. I need no ropes to hold you. My bondage resides in your mind." I stood before her. I had never removed my clothes like this. My clothes left my body in slow sensuous waves. The removal of my clothes was an act of devotion. I offered each part of my body to her eyes. My heart leaped with joy and excitement as I felt her caress my body with her eyes. I watched the lust raise in her as she caressed me. Her eyes caressed me. Her hand caressed her open vagina. When I returned to my knees before her, both of our eyes were sparkling. Our lust mated on the edges of our reality. I wanted only her love. My vagina wanted her lust. I wanted to throw my self into her arms and beg for her passion. I was bound to her commands stronger than any physical restraint. I knelt before her. My vagina was open and wet. Her commands were stronger than my vagina. My vagina begged me. She no longer controlled me. Only my mistress commanded me. I felt free for the first time. My parents did not control me. My vagina did not control me. Only my devotion to my mistress controlled me. I gave my self to my mistress freely. I knelt up. I pulled my shoulders back. I pushed my breasts out. I offered them to my mistress. I spread my legs. I offered my mistress the flower of my passion. I held nothing back. I opened my self completely to her gaze. She called me closer to her. She used no words. Her commands were clearly heard in my mind. I obeyed her without reservation. She fondled my ear lobes. She pulled them. She pinched them sharply. "I love your nakedness. As the bondage of your shoes pleases me. So will my gold in your ears. You will dress your ears for me." She placed one of the golden loops in my hand. I flushed with excitement, knowing what she wanted from me. My vagina swelled to full passion knowing that I would obey. The fear in my mind was a real beast. It threatened to keep me from my mistress' command. She placed a hard object into my hand. She moved my hand to my ear. She positioned the object behind my ear lobe. I knew that it was to push against. The end of the golden loop had a sharp point that held the clasp when it was in my ear. "Do it slowly. I want to feel your pain. It will excite me." My mistress lay back. She masturbated. Her eyes were alive with lust and passion. She was breathing hard. She shuddered with the waves of lust her hand produced. Her lust raised mine. My hand trembled as I found my ear lobe with the sharp end. I tried to look at it to see if it were centered on my lobe. My mistress sat up. Her slap to my face was sharp. Her words were just as sharp. "Fucking bitch. Watch me. Feed your pain to me with your eyes. Do not take your eyes from mine. Fill your ears with my gold. I will fill your vagina with passion, when I am full. Not before. My eyes were filled with tears. I cried, not from the pain of the slap. It was not vicious or brutal. My eyes cried because I had not pleased my mistress. Her displeasure was more painful than any slap could be. My hands felt for the right place. I gathered my courage. I looked deeply into my mistress' eyes. I pushed the sharp point slowly into my ears. I began to cry from the pain. I shared the pain with my mistress. I turned none of it to lust for my self. I knew that my mistress would bring my lust in her own time, and for her pleasure. My pain was for my mistress' pleasure alone. There was a wave of relief when the gold sank through my ear lobe. My mistress was caught in her own pleasure as she watched. I pushed the little clasp onto the gold through my ear. I reached my hand out to receive the other golden loop from my mistress. The golden loop lay on the table next to me. I knew that I must not pick it up. I knew I must wait for her to hand it to me. I wanted her lips. I wanted to kiss her, and receive her kisses. I knew I could not, until my ears were filled with her gold. I knelt before her. My pleas came out as whimpers of pleading. "Please mistress. Please let me put the other one in my ear for you. My mouth wants to drink from your lips. I want to feed your mouth my passion. I have so much to share with you." My mistress would not be hurried. She continued her masturbation. Her eyes held mine in bondage to her pleasure. As her orgasm began she pulled my head to her vagina. She used neither her eyes or her hands to command my mouth to her center. Her will pulled me as if it were strong hands behind my neck. My mouth covered her wetness. I worshiped at her shrine. I drank the product of her passion. I lapped up the fluid like a cat licking cream from a bowl. I opened her vagina fully. I found the pool of liquid passion in the bottom of her open vagina. The liquid pool was sweet and salty at the same time. My body shuddered in pleasure as I lapped up her offering to me. My pleasure was full. I needed nothing else from her. My vagina was not satisfied with love and devotion. She demanded my lust. Nothing else could satisfy her. My mistress pushed me away from her as she lay back in her afterglow. It felt like a rejection of me. I cried. My tears flowed down my cheeks. I felt as if I had displeased her. My heart was broken. No pain could be worse. I knelt before her, in my tears. I wanted to throw my self into her arms. I wanted her to hold me as I wept. I could not. I could only kneel before my mistress and beg with my eyes. My eyes begged and plead with my mistress. My vagina called my hands. She did not command them. Only my mistress could command me. My vagina begged me, as my eyes begged my mistress. I was in need. My lust was full. My mistress raised my lust with only her command. I cried knowing my master was far from me. I wanted his kiss as much as I wanted my mistress' kiss. Want is too soft a word. I did not want the kisses. By body demanded them. I was bound by my mistress' will. My kisses were hers to command. I waited and wanted. I cried in my need. My mistress smiled. Her eyes sparkled with excitement. She picked up the golden loop. She held it securely. Her word filled my mind. It filled my being. It raised my passion. My lust roared with delight at her single word. "Beg." My words fell from my lips like an already primed pump. The words from my lips excited my mistress and myself. "Please mistress. Please. My mouth wants your soft lips. My body wants your strong hand. I want you to fill my eyes with pain. I want to give you my passion. I beg for you to raise my lust. I want to feed it to you. I want to give you my lust from my mouth and my hands. I want you to take my lust from my vagina. I am yours. My pleasure comes only from you. Command my hands. Command my lips. Fill my vagina. I keep none of it for my self. I give it all to you." My mistress' eyes were glazed with her passion and lust, as she handed me the golden loop. I accepted it like a precious gift from my mistress. In return I would give her my pain for her pleasure. My eyes were glazed, as my mistress' were. My heart felt like a giant drum that pounded in my chest. I placed the hard object behind my ear lobe. I felt for the exact place to hold it. I used the sharp point of the loop to find the center of my ear lobe. My eyes never left my mistress' eyes. I slowly pushed the sharp point into my ear. I shared my pain with my mistress. I pushed firmly, without hurry. I wanted all the pain the golden spear could bring me. I wanted none of it for my self. I wanted to give it all to my mistress. My vagina demanded some of it for herself. My vagina flushed with lust as she fed from the pain in my ear lobe. The wetness of my vagina flowed down the sides of my thighs. I was lost in my lust. My vagina commanded my voice. "I want your kisses. I beg you for your kisses. I want your lips. I want your whip. I want kisses of leather on my ass. I offer my lips to yours. I offer my service to your vagina. I offer my ass to the leather of your whip. Use me for your pleasure. Please mistress. I beg you. Please." The pain in my ear was intense. I had pushed it so slowly that every nerve was alive within my ear. The sharp point found the layer of nerves just below the surface of my skin, on the back side of my ear. The pain brought a scream from my lips. The pain was exquisite. It filled my body. My orgasm came in waves of pleasure. My orgasm come from the pain. The pain, and my mistress' pleasure. My devotion took my body to heaven. I knelt before the Goddess herself. My passion shone like a halo around my body. My bondage was complete. I was enslaved to the Goddess. The personification of the Goddess was before me. I knew that I could only find pleasure with a man. I could find heaven with a woman. But only from a woman who was as strong as the Goddess herself was. I wanted the hardness of an erection to fill my femininity. I wanted my mistress to give it to me. If it pleased her. I did not need it. I loved the feel of the hardness of a mans passion. I needed the bondage of a woman. I longed for a woman's soft strength. I lusted for my mistress. My lust was pure and holy. My lust was blessed by the Goddess. That I knelt before. My lust was no longer dirty and defiled. My lust shone brightly. The glow of my lust lit the room. I saw the face of the goddess in the shining wetness of my mistress' open vagina. I knelt my head to her wetness. I reveled in my worship. I became one with my mistress. I became one with the Goddess. I drank from her cup. I wanted nothing else. My vagina wanted more. My vagina demanded more. My vagina could only beg. Only my mistress could command me. I know that the Goddess comes in gentle passion. I know she is found in soft gentle waves of pleasure. That is found in the temple of Aphrodite. Many worship there. The Goddess called me to the temple of Diana. It is said that if you enter Diana's bed. In the morning either gold will fall from heaven, or she will put an arrow in your heart. Her love is harder. It is not soft. It is not gentle. Passion is not enough for Diana, or for me. Only lust will draw Diana's smile. Only submission and pain will raise my lust. My mistress found pleasure in my submission to her will. She found pleasure in my kisses. I kissed her deeply from my knees when her orgasm took her. Her lips between her legs were just as responsive as the lips on her face. In her afterglow. My lips found her face. She found pleasure in the flavor of my kiss. Each woman's taste is slightly different. They are all heady flavors. They all bring smells that promise passion and lust. I have always loved the flavor of my own secretions. My mistress found pleasure in the taste of her own secretions, delivered to her mouth on my lips. I found devotion in the kisses. My mistress found passion in them. Her passion could not be denied. The raging beast between my legs paced as she roared. Her demands were as strong as my mistress' demands. I only obeyed my mistress. My mistress rose to her feet. Her hand tangled in my hair. She walked out of the room. She did not care if I walked, crawled or was dragged behind her. I crawled. I could not stand before her. Her strength radiated like a glowing aura around her. She did not need the strength of muscles to control me. Her will demanded my obedience. That was what my mistress demanded from me. Obedience. Total complete obedience. I crawled behind my mistress. She brought me to a dimly lit room. She pulled me onto a small raised stage. She worked in silence. She bound my wrists in padded cuffs. She snapped them together. She lowered a cable from the ceiling. My hands were captured by the thin steel cable. My mistress raised my bound hands above my head. She bound each foot to the floor with satin ropes. She raised the cable until my arms could go no higher. I was helpless in my bondage. My legs were open wide. The feelings were intensely erotic as my mistress covered every part of my body with her caress. Every part of my body except my vagina. My vagina wept for her caress. My vagina used my hips to cry out her need. My mistress kissed me deeply. Her words pierced the silence of the room. "As long as my gold is in your ears, you belong to me." My heart leaped with joy, as my mistress held her whip to my mouth. "Kiss your master. I own your master also. You, and your master, will please me." My eyes were filled with tears of happy. My lips kissed my master lovingly. I loved my master. I knew he was in a strong practiced hand. I heard the sound of the whip. I flushed with passion before I felt the lash. The pain the whip delivered, rose my passion further. The masters kiss was firm. It was crisp and clear. It marked my body with neat patterns of red pleasure. My lust roused to full force. I could not have denied my hands, if they were free. All my vagina could do was cry. The tears of my vagina flowed down my thighs, as the tears from my eyes flowed down my face. My mistress masturbated as she lashed. Her passion had come to fullness. Her lust was raging. She reveled in her power and control. Her hand was not enough. She found a dildo and began to use it on her self. She pushed the wet dildo into my mouth. I tasted her passion and lust. I wanted more. She took no thought of my need. She fed her passion and her lust to me with her eyes. I felt as If I were being fucked as she continued to lash at my body. She found her orgasm. I found mine. I writhed in the sensuous waves of lust that was brought by my submission to my mistress, and the kiss of my master. She stumbled back to the couch, that sat before the small stage. She could not stand, as her body shuddered in waves of pleasure that took her mind away. I could do nothing but watch. I saw the beauty of my mistress as she radiantly shone with the force of her lust. My mistress enjoyed her afterglow. Her shining eyes never left mine. She did not rest long. She walked to a wall. I was almost blinded as I was bathed in the bright light of the photo spotlights. My mistress walked around me. She flashed her camera as she did. My passion raised. The camera became the eyes of the public that I longed for. The flash of the camera became a strobe light. It flashed as fast as it was able. I held my head up proudly. I was pleased to present my self to the unseen audience. She flashed her camera. She renewed my tears with a sharp slap across my face. She took pictures of it all. My mistress took pictures of my nakedness. She slapped me again. "Cry bitch. I want to see your tears." My mistress went back to kissing me with the whip. She photographed both my tears and the thin red welts she left on my body. My mistress was raging. Her lust shone through her eyes. She was raging yet she would not lay down either her camera or her whip.