1 comments/ 177677 views/ 15 favorites Breaking Esther Ch. 1 By: InYourDreams She lay there and felt a little sick. Her head was cloudy and she couldn't work out where she was or what had happened to her. Her head hurt and she rubbed it. As she moved her weight she heard the rustle of packaging and slowly looked around her. She was lying in an alley surrounded by rubbish. She stared at it rather stupefied for a while as slowly recollection returned to her. She had been jogging through the alley on her way back home when suddenly she had tripped. As she continued to rub her head she reckoned she must have hit her head as she fell. She wondered how long she had been lying there and whether anyone had passed and not bothered to help her. They probably thought she was a drunk or something. Painfully she got up and felt her balance poor. She wasn't able to stand, at least not just yet. She leaned against the dustbins as her mind slowly cleared. She tried to focus her eyes on the alleyway in an attempt to figure out which way she should turn. Slowly she moved off down the passageway leaning against the wall for support. When she finally got home she looked at her watch. "My God its late evening. I must have been lying there the whole day!" Esther always went for a jog in the early morning. She was an early riser and maintained a healthy lifestyle. How was it possible that a whole day could pass while she had passed out? As her head cleared more and the feeling of nausea subsided a little she started to piece together what she had been doing. She looked again at her watch and this time she noticed the date. 3 days had passed!!! She could not possibly have hit her head and passed out for 3 days. What had happened to her? At home she had a long soak in the bath and started to feel better. She fixed herself a meal and tried to work out whether she had been mistaken about the date when she had gone jogging. She must have done. It didn't make sense otherwise. Yet the more she thought the harder it was to reconcile. It was Thursday today, but she could not recall anything of Tuesday or Wednesday. Was she getting absent minded? Was it a consequence of her fall and hitting her head? Perhaps she should go and have a check up. The next morning she decided not to go jogging and have a lie in. As she lay in her bed she suddenly heard a voice right next to her. "Good morning Esther. It is good to see you are staying over late in bed. I like to think of my slave luxuriating in her bed, lying in anticipation of her lover." She leaped up and looked around. There was no one in the room. She checked the radio, but it was not on. "Are you searching for me? You wont find me, Esther. I am not out there among the furniture, I am right here inside your head." She put her hands up to the sides of her head. What was going on? She could hear him as if he were standing right there at the foot of the bed, so calmly talking to her. Yet there was no one there. "What's the matter Esther? Is it too hard to take in? Do you want a little demonstration of how I now control you? You just lie there and think of your favourite fantasy. I want you to think of the person you most want to come and fuck you. Are you imagining that for me Esther?" She was confused, her mind trying to grapple with the disembodied words she was hearing but automatically conjured up the familiar figure of her handsome fantasy lover, the one who always knew which buttons to press to make her feel aroused. Was it arousal she felt or just plain in love? She started to notice a slight ache in her loins and tried to press her thighs together. A little buzz of electricity passed through her as she squeezed them tight. "Do you feel yourself becoming a little aroused yet? You see Esther, I control your cunt as well as your mind. I can make you so fucking excited that you will hump the bedpost in order to find relief." As if in response to the words in her head she started to feel the ache between her thighs suddenly become more persistent. She could no longer keep her mind off it and wanted to reach out and touch her little mound that was tormenting her so. She slipped her hand down over her panties and she could feel the smooth round mound of her pubis. She pressed it through the cotton and the feeling excited her more. "That's it Esther, feel that tension building up. Imagine your lover there taking off those delicate panties, revealing your most intimate recesses, which are already open and awaiting him. Do you feel the moistness oozing from your slit, lubricating you in preparation for his entrance? As her hand slid over the smooth cotton she pressed it against her clitoris and felt some relief as she pressed it. The voice in her head urged her on, gently dragging her fingers down further to dip inside. "Can you feel that spring inside you, my slave, and you must release it. The only escape from these feelings that are welling up inside you is to give in to them and bring yourself to climax. Imagine that familiar charge running through your body. Slide your fingers inside your panties and gently ease them through the outer lips of your labia. Go on Esther, don't fight it, just luxuriate in the sensations." She had never considered putting her hands down there and the thought revolted her. Yet the soft gentle persuasion in her head continued to ease her down the road to submission to her most wanton desires. Her fingers traced the elastic at the top of her panties and she could not help but imagine his hands tracing her abdomen. Her back arched as she pushed herself out to him as his fingers dipped down from her hips to the low sweeping arc above her mound. She felt the gentle pull on the few hairs above her panty line. Her fingers rode on up the other side and then slid slowly, cravingly down again. Back and forth her fingers roamed over her body and all the time the feeling of excitement and anticipation between her legs grew and grew. In some vague disconnected way her mind told her she must stop this, but she didn't want to stop. Suddenly she started to feel her panties becoming damp, her throat dry and constricted, her eyes tight shut. Her thoughts moved on from the slow graceful patterning of fingers over her belly. She started to feel a greater urgency and her fingers slipped almost subconsciously inside the material to prize open her labia ever so gently. Her fingertips felt the moistness of her secretions and this excited her all the more. Her clitorises throbbed its urgency as her fingers started the long slow descent from where she had stimulated her clitoris down towards the opening at its base and then back up again. She was so damp that as her fingers slid effortlessly back and forth and she could not stop them dipping inside the entrance to her womb. The voice continued to push her along, dipping first one and then another finger into her hole. She felt the tingle of excitement and a burning heat mounting between her legs. She pulled her hand away and found it was clammy. Raising her hips she removed her panties in one swift, decisive movement. She lay there with her legs spread apart and pictured the view her cunt must offer someone (this man?) standing at the end of her bed. She started to imagine him, the stranger, dipping his fingers into her cunt and that she was wet for him. She did not know who he was, and she did not have any rights over him, yet he could demand her to open herself to him and she would be lying there, humiliated but ready for his inspection, which would reveal she was wet and ready for him. Her clitoris throbbed and she could feel moisture seeping from her and pooling onto the sheet between her open thighs. In a great effort of will she dragged herself out of bed and across the room. Her mind telling her she must not allow these degrading thoughts to take her over like this. She walked about the house with an orange juice in her hand, shaking and thinking furiously through what had just happened. She could still hear him telling her that she was his and that she must find release for all the sexual tension that he had implanted in her. It was true her body ached for orgasm and she found it difficult to focus on what he was saying. She returned to her bed and lay down, opening her legs dutifully and burying her hand once again between her thighs. She tried to think of something else, of what she was going to do that day, but her fingers slid ever so gently forward closing in on her opening. She was soon humping her hand and squeezing it between her thighs. Suddenly she started to buck as the waves of mounting tension washed over her. She rocked back and forth across the bed and let out a loud moan as she buried her face in her pillows and orgasmed. The waves of pleasure rippled down her thighs. Lying still on the bed, her hand still wet and tracing over her labia she listened to the voice instructing her. "You are mine Esther. Did you wonder where you had been the last 3 days? After I tripped you and chloroformed you I brought you to my surgery. There I made a small operation on your body and inserted two miniature devices. One of these is buried inside your ear. As I speak the device is activated remotely and starts to vibrate. The vibrations in your eardrum mimic my voice as if I was there, talking right next to you. Only this way I can talk directly to you, but no one else can hear me. I can plant any thought into your head and because my voice is now buried inside your skull, you cannot shut me out. I am going to implant progressively more degrading images into your brain and very shortly your body will grow to crave these terrible suggestions I will impose upon you to be acted upon, just as you craved the orgasm you have just had." She shook her head, moaning in despair and disbelief at the words she heard as she lay on her bed in the safety of her own home. She was not going to give in to this. She was not going to become some man's slave. In fact worse than a slave, she would become some kind of automaton whose will could be manipulated for the entertainment of some stranger. He didn't know just how determined she could be. The voice in her head, however, was carrying on relentlessly: "The second device I inserted next to your clitoris. I can remotely turn you on just like the switch for the light in your room. You no longer have control of your thoughts or you libido. When I say you feel fucking horny, that is just how you are going to feel. You are mine Esther, so I should get some sleep now after your little exertions this morning. Soon I will be driving you to greater heights of pleasure and depravity, so conserve your strength." She lay there hot and tired her mind whirling with questions. She was shocked and appalled at what she had just done and her mind couldn't recover from the shock of what it had heard. Had she really heard those things? Was it really possible that someone could have kidnapped her after she fell? She tried to remember whether she had been tripped but couldn't be sure. It just sounded all so fanciful, yet she felt afraid. The voice was so real she had shot up in bed as soon as it spoke. There was absolutely no doubt about it. She went into the bathroom and examined her cunt. Was there a faint line next to her clitoris? She had never examined herself so closely before. Her fingers trailed down to her pussy only to find it sopping wet. Whatever else, she had just had a fantastic orgasm. She was scared but somehow exhilarated at the same time. Later that day she had recovered from her early morning adventure and it had faded into the back of her mind. Suddenly as she walked through the street the voice started to talk to her again. She jumped and shrieked. Everyone turned to look at her and see what was wrong, but clearly no one around her had heard the voice telling her she was a whore that he was about to prepare her cunt to be ready for any one of these strangers who passed her by. She felt her face and neck burn at the suggestion and wondered what the people staring at her would be thinking. If only they knew what had just passed through her mind. She felt a familiar throb start up between her thighs as her clitoris began to be stimulated. It was unbelievable how she was just walking along with thoughts of everyday one moment, and the very next she ached to put her fingers into her knickers and luxuriate in the moisture collecting so rapidly there. She wanted to put a hand to her breasts and tease her nipples and feel them extend, pushing outwards to these strangers. How was it possible she could so suddenly become so overwhelmed? With an effort of will she focused on the pavement in front of her, lowered her head and walked on. As she walked her mind could not escape picturing her labia becoming enlarged. She started to feel heat spreading out from her cunt. She quickened her step as if she could outrun these thoughts that pursued her, but she was carrying them along with her inside her head. Her clitoris was now driving her wild with desire and she started to look around for where she might find relief. She dived into a shop and rushed into the toilet where she buried three fingers up her cunt. She rocked her torso back and forth over her fingers as she orgasmed several times. She heard other people entering and moving about outside the cubicle as she sat with her legs lewdly stretched apart, her skirt up around her waist and her knickers stretched between her ankles. She wondered what people would think if they knew what she was doing. She knew that she herself would have condemned someone as depraved if she saw them act this way. As she sat at home at the end of the day reflecting upon all that had happened, she acknowledged for the first time that this man now had total control over her feelings and actions. If she was to ever break free she must remove the devices he had inserted in her. She had to see her doctor and arrange for it. She picked up the phone and dialled the surgery. "Hello. I'd like to make an appointment to see Dr Frost today if possible." "Is it an emergency?" "Yes!" "What is the matter with you?" It was an innocent enough question. Could she tell this receptionist that a man had total control over her and was driving her to sexual ecstasy? If not, then how else could she persuade her to make an emergency appointment? Her mind went blank. "I'm sorry. No I guess it's not an emergency. A regular appointment will do." "That will be Tuesday of next week at 3:45." Five days! What was going to happen to her during those 5 days? Who knows to what level of wantonness he would drive her to in that time. She put the phone down as despair engulfed her. The rest of the day passed uneventfully and she went to bed that night thinking over her bizarre day and her strange behaviour. Somehow she couldn't accept the things she had been told by this voice. Maybe tomorrow she would be back to her usual self. She slept soundly that night but awoke in the early hours screaming, her body humping her hand once again buried deep in her cunt. She was rocking back and forth in a delirium of excitement. As her orgasm subsided she lay shaking from her exertions and bathed in sweat. She remembered dreaming of being bound, gagged and raped by a host of strange men who were too shadowy in her dream to recognise any features. Her body had responded immediately to her rape and the images of large buckled belts wrapped around her arms and neck, her nipples standing proud, her cunt shaved smooth and visibly wet. She started to think about the voice in her head. If he could force these images into her head during the day, then how much more receptive would she be to his suggestions while she was asleep at night. She started to panic as she thought about the possibility of his brain washing her during the night when her stupefied brain would readily accept whatever he inserted into it. With these thoughts still whirling round in her head she fell back into deep sleep. The next day she was walking around the supermarket desperately trying to turn her thoughts away from the annoying buzz between her legs. It was a battle of wills that she was determined to win. She wandered around the supermarket trying to collect her thoughts and focus upon everyday activities such as what she would cook that night? She wandered the aisles, her eyes unseeing, remembering what he had told her this morning: "Today you are to buy some eggs and breaking one soak a second egg in the white of the first and insert it into your pussy." The instructions simple and clear, the thought had instantly excited and repelled her and she had spent the rest of the day trying to escape her own evil imaginings. Suddenly she realised that the ache between her legs was getting worse and she started to feel heat around her face and breasts again. She looked around to see whether anyone noticed and as she did so realised that she was standing next to the egg counter. He must be here somewhere watching her. How else could he know she was by the eggs? She scanned the faces as she felt the moistness collecting in her knickers. She moved off. Anywhere, anywhere other than next to the eggs. If she stopped there another minute she would be driven to voice the pleasure that welled up inside her despite her efforts to try and control it. She felt her throat starting to constrict and she ran down the next aisle. As she moved away the ache in her cunt subsided to a more tolerable level. Soon she was able to think once again about cooking, but what? After roaming the aisles for a while she decided to bake a cake. Her mother would be coming over in a day or two, and baking would keep her occupied. She started to try and piece together what she would need and headed off for the flour. Of course she knew that the flour was there next to the eggs. Her subconscious knew it by didn't dare tell the conscious part of her brain that she was headed back towards the eggs. Deep down somewhere well buried was a desire to feel that inescapable pleasure that overtook her when she stopped by the eggs. She stooped down looking at the flour trying to decide which brand to buy and the stirring in her groin started afresh. The feeling of moistness surrounding her cunt from her pooled juices only added to her distraction. She pretended to focus on the flour but the waves of pleasure were once again rapidly mounting within her. If she did not do something soon she would reach the point where she could no longer pretend she was not consumed by sexual desire. She turned looked at the eggs, got up and walked down the aisle. She owed it to herself to resist. She carried on round the aisles and tried not to acknowledge the feeling of disappointment she felt and frustration at not reaching orgasm. She collected the other ingredients she would need for the cake. Finally it dawned on her that she would need eggs for the cake! How stupid of her, why hadn't she thought of that straight away? Perhaps she had? She started to doubt her motives and decided she just had to go and get some and leave as quickly as possible. She picked up the pack of eggs and as always opened them to check they were all in tact. As she looked down at the eggs in her hand she noticed how smooth and rounded they were. She imagined one of these eggs, soaked in egg white, feeling very slippery and hard to keep a grasp o, hard to resist if it were to demand entrance to her womb. She stared at the egg in her hand mesmerised, only recovering herself as a small dribble of saliva escaped the corner of her mouth and landed on the egg in front of her. Shocked at the sight of the lubricated egg, confronting her eyes with the sudden reality of her fantasy, she closed the box quickly and stuffing it into the shopping basket moved off for the checkout. At home she started on the cake, mixing the ingredients. The nagging feeling between her legs made her feel hot, but she continued to ignore it. She focused all her will power on the preparation of the cake. She tried not to notice how soft and slippery the butter was as she creamed it and she kept trying to bring her attention back on what she was doing and away from the pack of eggs at the end of the bench. She finally went over to them and decided to break each and every one of them. That way she would escape this infernal nagging fantasy. She took the eggs out and broke all but the last, which somehow she couldn't bring herself to break. She left it in the bowl swimming in the white of the other eggs and went back to her bowl. Her breasts felt swollen and strained against the fabric of her brassiere. She knew perfectly well that breaking the eggs had been a mistake, once again bringing the fantasy a step closer to reality. Now she had to drag her mind away from the image of the remaining egg all slippery with the phlegm like nature of the egg white in which it was immersed. She started to wonder what it would feel like to smear the egg white over her pussy. She imagined her labia glistening, thrust out for some imaginary lover to inspect. Breaking Esther Ch. 1 Finally she could not take it any more and went off to the loo. She put the bowl with the one whole egg still rolling back and forward coated with the egg white. She placed it on the floor in front of her as she sat on the loo. The excitement she felt was not to be denied. Her hand was shaking with the desire she felt as she considered the feel of the egg pushing up through her protective lips, forcing them apart and demanding entrance into her most private love canal. The egg glistened in the light from the ceiling as she picked it up. She looked down between her legs and noticed how wide the parting between her legs was as the hair of her pubic mound disappeared over that little precipice. She brought the egg up to that little bud that burned here so persistently. It felt cool as she touched her clitoris and almost orgasmed at the touch. She felt her lips open instinctively as if they knew their fate and willingly complied. She rubbed the egg up and down her slit smearing the egg white generously over them. It felt so cool and slippery that she became more aroused with the touch of it. She dipped the egg back in the clear fluid and continued to paint herself with it, rolling the egg around her slit making sure everything was well lubricated. She turned the point of the egg towards her and cupping the wide end in her hands, stared down over her bush at it. It looked like an arrow pointing up towards her entrance. She brought it slowly up to her cunt lips and pushed ever so slightly. Her lips parted and it glided past them. She was by now very hot as she tortured herself with the egg, but as she tried to push it in deeper she found the width of the far end of the egg hard to accommodate. It started to hurt as she was stretched wider open. She pulled it back out and looked down at it. A strand of fluid stretched from her opening to the egg. The image symbolised to her the inevitability of her submission to this egg, this suggestion that had been implanted into her brain and persistently and slowly overtaken her as the day had progressed. She raised the egg once again to her crack and pushed a little harder. She gave a squeal of pain mixed with pleasure as she felt it plop inside her. Suddenly she felt really full and wasn't sure she could stop it from falling out again. She stood up slowly and felt the weight inside her move as it pressed against her G spot. The build up at her nerve endings as she felt this foreign weight inside her rubbing against her as she walked about drove her to greater levels of pleasure. She had to concentrate on the muscles at the entrance to her womb to keep the egg in. It made her walk slightly oddly but she felt so much excitement at the hidden depravity of what she had done. She wondered why she had never thought of doing something like this before. Returning to the kitchen she continued to prepare the cake mix, squeezing her muscles all the time to push the egg further up inside her and then let it fall back towards her opening. She had lain down in front of the mirror to look at her cunt and had seen her labia fully stretched and unable to close perfectly around the egg. She could just make out the shell of the egg peaking through from inside. With her fingers she had rolled the egg round in her vagina and marvelled at the exquisite delight she had felt from this movement. Suddenly the phone rang and she picked it up. It was her mother. She almost lost her voice from the shame and humiliation she felt, and conversation was difficult with her mind constantly in fear of discovery that she had an egg up her fanny. She had always been so good and had always pleased her mother in every way. What would her mother say if she knew? Ridiculous as it sounded she was feeling like some naughty child found out and confronted. As soon as the conversation was over she ran back to the loo to remove the egg, but how could she get it out? With her fingers she could not get a proper purchase on it. The damn thing just rolled around inside her. Why had she not thought of that before? She would also need it for the cake since she had destroyed all the other eggs. Panic tied a knot in her stomach as she went back to the kitchen. Suddenly she grasped the bowl with the cake mix and squatted over it. She pushed with all her might as if she was giving birth. She felt the egg move down and start to prize her labia apart from within. She continued to push and groaned from the effort. Eventually the egg plopped back out and landed in the bowl where it broke. The effort and the pressure from the egg had made a small amount of urine escape from her into the bowl before she could control it. The fright at urinating into the cake mix made her orgasm again. She couldn't believe the pleasure she could derive from such depraved behaviour. She looked at the cake mix with the small pool of her urine in it. She couldn't start again as she didn't have the ingredients. She wondered whether anyone would be able to taste the urine in it. She decided to press on and plunged her hands into the mixture. She felt a tightness of her breasts as the thoughts of what had just happened drove fear and excitement through her like a bolt of lightening. The next morning she awoke exhausted having roused several times in the night with multiple orgasms. She had had such weird dreams of being a sex object, servicing people with sex without knowing anything about them. Walking about naked and chained in large houses where many men sat and talked dressed in normal clothes, occasionally stopping to fuck her. She had felt such excitement arising from her role as whore in her dream. She started to fear that maybe these dreams were in fact reality and that she really spent her nights as this man's sex slave. She didn't know what to think any more, but every morning she would wake up with a cunt so wet and stained sheets. She could not believe how much fluid she produced during these dreams. At least it convinced her that she didn't actually leave her bed during the night. That day she travelled up to town to meet her friends for shopping. As usual the train was very crowded and she was standing pressed in on all sides. She felt the warmth of their bodies against hers and as usual this made her feel uncomfortable. Suddenly the voice started. She couldn't get used to the idea of hearing a voice as if someone was there talking out loud to her in front of all these other people and they not being able hear a word of what was said. She felt the public humiliation from the way he spoke to her. As he spoke the now familiar feeling of arousal started at her clitoris. "Esther, reach round behind you and feel the bulge in the pair of trousers pressed up against your ass. Don't you realise what a turn on you are to that man. Don't you think you should do something for him? Reach round now and touch his bulge. Feel how big his bulging cock is, locked away inside his trousers." Her hand was moving automatically and she couldn't stop it. Her body knew that if she obeyed him then she would soon be wracked by powerful orgasms the like of which she had never experienced before. Slowly her hand moved round behind her. She rested it on her buttocks and then as the train rattled through the tunnel she leaned ever so slightly backwards pressing her buttocks into the man behind her, and sandwiching her hand between them. Her eyes widened as she felt the strong bulge in his pants. The buzz on her clitoris moved up a pitch and without being conscious of it she parted her legs slightly and arched her head back slightly to rest it against his chest. "That's very good, Esther. Now I think you owe this stranger something for teasing him so. Pull that zip down and reach inside for his penis. Picture in your mind how thick it is. Picture it sliding in and out of your hot little cunt. Imagine your juices sticking slickly to the sides of his long member as it slides effortlessly in and out of you driving you to ecstasy." Slowly she drags the zipper down. Her throat dry with fear that someone will notice what she is doing. As she reaches inside his trousers she wonders what this strange man must be thinking of a woman who without invitation reaches inside his trousers and pulls his penis out in a crowded train. Her mind is overwhelmed by the erotic fantasies circulating inside it. Her little hand tries to circulate his massive pole and she realises just how huge it is. Her eyes widen, even though she can only see it in her mind's eye. Overwhelmed by the thought of it sliding in and out of her hole, slippery with the juices she can feel on her inner thigh, she starts to pump his penis. She hasn't been told to do this, but her own fantasies have taken her over and she does not even consider what her hand is doing, lost in her own reverie. Soon she is brought back to the crowded train as she feels spurts of hot cum fill her hand. In shock she realises what she has done and wonders what she can do to avoid everyone from knowing that she has just jacked off a perfect stranger in a train. She stares ahead of her, her mind whirling. She closes her hand around his member to ensure none of his cum leaks onto her coat. Just imagine walking around London with a cum stain on her coat! "You'd better bring your hand round and drink what's in it before someone sees what you have done." The voice again, always knowing what to do. She struggles to bring her hand round to the front in the crowded train and she doesn't want to have to open it. She coughs and brings her hand to her face. Without a moments hesitation she shoots the load into her mouth and gulps it down. It is salty and cloying in her mouth. She feels disgusted as it makes its slow progress down her throat and settles in her stomach. She licks her hand clean and then licks her lips to make sure that every last drop has gone and that she doesn't embarrass herself with cum dripping from her lips. She reaches back round and puts his member back into his trousers and zips them up again. "We are coming to a station. Don't turn round until I've gone." Her spine runs cold as she realises that this is the man who has been controlling her. She tries to turn to see him, but the train has reached the station and a great press of people are trying to get off. Pushed this way and that she cannot turn round and by the time she manages all she can see is a large press of people moving down the platform. Which one was he? She tries to guess which one of them was it. Esther gets off and sits on a bench on the platform. She weeps as she thinks about what she has done, but also feels the frustration, for he hadn't even touched her. She had been left so excited with his persistent attention to her clitoris, yet for the first time he had left her without an orgasm. She was ready to explode. She sat there pressing her cunt into the cold metal of the bench and parted her legs to ensure better contact with her lips. She pressed down with her arms on either side of her. Her head was bowed as she contemplated what she had just done. She had opened a perfect strangers trouser, gave him a hand job and then drank his cum. She hadn't been made to do it just the suggestion was enough. She had even liked her lips to ensure that all his seed had made its way into her stomach. She felt sick as she remembered the taste of it and the thought that she didn't even know what the person looked like, yet accepted to drink his cum. Once again she found herself berating herself for her actions and unable to justify blaming the voice in her head. There had been no compunction and yet she had willingly complied just to experience that exquisite delight of orgasm. She had to find a way to fight this. She needed to find a way to reach orgasm herself and not be driven into these wanton acts by her own frustration. She marched out of the station and into a sex shop. She had never ever entered a place like this before, but now she knew she needed a dildo with which to satisfy the ache that had been generated in her. As she walked around the shop she looked in amazement at all the toys and magazines there. She couldn't even guess how to use some of them, but she could picture herself in some of the outfits and that thought excited her. She picked up a whip and wondered what it felt like to be whipped. She shuddered at the thought she could even contemplate it and moved quickly on. She chose her dildo, a silver one. She liked the idea of a large metal column being forced up inside her cunt and vibrating inside her. She could feel she was moist already in anticipation. She also chose a round metal vibrating egg. It had a small chain connected to it, the other end of which was connected to a thin metal belt. She thought of the egg she had held inside her the day before and the idea of having another that would also vibrate deep within her made her excited. She imagined the chain slick with her juices emerging from between her lips and riding up the crease of her ass. She thought of walking about wearing this contraption underneath her normal ordinary looking clothes. It would be her little licentious secret. On leaving she went straight to a department store and dived into the loo. There in the cubicle she rammed the dildo up her crack and buried it deep within her. She was rough with herself demanding sex from the object and needing to feel release from her pent up tension as soon as possible. When she re-emerged she was flustered but at last she had had several orgasms which had made the whole escapade worthwhile. The next few days passed much the same way. He would continue to excite her by painting pictures in her head while providing electronic stimulation of her clitoris remotely. She could counter the build up of her desire by diving into a public toilet and bring herself off with her dildo. She carried it everywhere she went, it was just one of the many ways he had changed her normal routine. She also found that she thought about sex and her wet cunt more and more often. Even if he wasn't pushing her to excess she would still think about the orgasms she had received and the many devious thoughts that he had implanted in her mind seemed to have become more and more acceptable to her. She even caught herself imagining screwing various men she encountered in the street or in shops. She wondered about taking them into the changing cubicles and giving them a blowjob. She remembered drinking her owner's cum on the train. Why did she use that word owner? The thought of his control excited her, and she was flattered that he had paid so much attention to her. He had wanted her and had gone to such trouble to get her, so in a perverse way she had become flattered. She started to wonder what it would be like to drink the cum of several men in one orgiastic bath of cum. She imagined the slimy fluid smeared over her breasts and face, licking it off her fingers. Would he make her do that too? She hoped so. These thoughts were exciting her and she could no longer tell whether this was autosuggestion or her own deviant desires. Breaking Esther Ch. 2 In a rather seedy part of town she finds herself in a filthy and smelly public toilet. She had considered backing out, but she was in such heat that she couldn't forego her pleasure for even one minute longer to look for a more suitable location. She looked down at the filth, the graffiti scribbled over the walls and the excrement on the floor. There didn't seem to be any seat, but in spite of her disgust, or perhaps because of it, she was too far-gone. She pulls up her skirt and takes her knickers off entirely, pushing them down her long legs and stepping out of them. She stares at them in her hand for a moment as a suggestion enters her head. She looks down at the water in the bowl of the toilet and plunges her knickers into it. She briefly wonders whether it is clean, but before she could think too much she rings out her panties, sinks her dildo deep into her cunt and then pulls her knickers back on. They feel cold and clammy and she loves the feel of dirt and degradation that she has just put herself through. She presses the wet cloth against her skin and looks at her dark bush revealed through the semi transparent material. She pulls her panties up higher forcing the dildo deep within her and then settles down on the toilet facing the wall at the back. She presses the crotch of her panties against the rim of the bowl forcing the artificial penis still deeper inside her. Reading the graffiti scribbled on the wall, her juices start to leak out and mingle with the dirty water in the toilet. She imagines her neck with a metal collar around it and a chain connecting her to the down pipe, the door of the cubicle open and her wet transparent knickers visibly holding her vibrating penis buried deep in her cunt in full view to anyone who enters. She presses her ass back down impaling herself further and orgasms several times. She was so turned on she could not help herself from moaning loudly inside the cubicle, in spite of hearing people moving about outside and realising that they must be able to guess what she is doing, yet she could not stop herself, not amidst her paroxysms of delight. The filthiness of the place and her legs splayed open as she forced them wider apart drove her to shattering orgasms that mounted one upon the other. She revelled in her humiliation as she audibly quaked her pleasure. Upon leaving the cubicle she found a woman making herself up who made some pretty nasty comments to her, and she ran out to escape her embarrassment. Outside there was a cool wind blowing and she could feel it rise up under her skirt. The coldness of the air cooled her sopping knickers more, and her juices that also coated the material made it stick to her. She realised that she must smell of her own arousal. She wanted to go back home and shower off, but she had to meet a friend in town shortly. What could she do? She went and bought some perfume in a store and tried to hide her scent. She went to the restaurant where they were to meet up and dived straight into the toilet. Once again she had to seek relief as her wet panties had driven her wild with desire. She also realised that her master was no longer leaving her alone once she had complied with his demands and that he was maintaining the pressure on her driving her to increasingly greater levels of excitement. She sat on the toilet and put her head in her hands. She would be seeing the doctor tomorrow; it was her only chance of escape. Esther removed her wet panties and the scent of her arousal was plainly detectable on them. As she left she dropped them in a rubbish bin and dived out before anyone could notice what she had just done. She had not thought to buy another pair and so sat naked under her ordinary skirt waiting for her friend. As she waited her imagination was running riot and she realised that she was getting hooked. At last her appointment with the doctor arrived. She would be able to rid herself of this man who perpetually tormented her. How she had been counting the days, but now she was here in the waiting room waiting to be called she started to think of what she would say. Her turn finally came and she went in and explained about her fall whilst jogging and that since then she had realised that someone had inserted some kind of devices into her body that enabled him to make her aroused at any time. The doctor sat patiently listening and then gently, as if explaining to a child, told her that what she was suggesting was totally impossible: "You have no idea just how complex the nerve centres in a woman's clitoris are. It would be quite impossible to produce a device that could artificially stimulate it by remote control." "But I feel the stimulation all the time and I can hear him gloating over me. He has another device in my ear which can vibrate to simulate sound!" The doctor's face became grave. Suddenly she realised how she must sound. "How long were you unconscious?" he asked simply. "Three days." She said somewhat meekly. How stupid of her not to think of this before. She only had that voice in her head that told her she had these implants inserted. What if it were her own imagination? Perhaps this was all some kind of perverted fantasy that she had buried inside her and the fall had brought it out as an alternative reality. The doctor continued: "You must have had a very bad fall to be knocked out so long. It is quite possible that the blow to your head may have affected your libido. You must remember that your brain controls the way your whole body behaves. I can give you some sedatives that will help to reduce your libido, but I am very concerned about the fact you hear voices. I think you should see a specialist and have a brain scan." He wrote out a prescription for her and told her that if she had any other symptoms at all to come and see him immediately. As she walked to the chemist for her medicine she thought about what he had said. Of course it all made sense. How could someone kidnap her and implant such fantastical devices in her body? What for, he could have just raped her, or worse still held her as some kind of sex slave. Why set her loose where he could not do as he pleased with her? She started to feel upset at the realisation that she was mentally ill and that it was her own brain that drove these persistent thoughts through her mind and made her reach such intense orgasms. She went over the various things she had done over the past few days and realised how out of character they were. Could it be that the blow to her head could have caused a change in her character? It frightened her to think that these depraved thoughts had always lurked deep within her and the accident had somehow released them. She wondered whether the change would be permanent. Waiting for an appointment to see the specialist she started to take her medication. At least this would stop her behaving so unforgivably. She took her pills and went off to the shops for some retail therapy. As she walked down the street the voice started in her head once again. It told her to turn off the main street and up one of the side streets. She had no idea what was up here, but somehow her will to resist had deserted her. Her whole body was in limbo waiting to see what pleasures were in store for it up here, while her mind grappled with itself. Could she resist herself? As she walked down the street she saw that it was full of streetwalkers. They were wearing outrageous clothes like some huge neon sign proclaiming: "I am a whore. Approach me and take your pleasure from me". She had never been to a street like this before and seen at first hand women touting for business in such a lewd fashion. She felt fear as she walked down the road, what if someone was to approach her? What would she say? She wasn't dressed as a hooker but she had a good figure and men may well come up and proposition her. She felt fear slide down her throat and settle in her stomach. Yet the fear seemed to magnify the familiar cloying ache that had started in her loins. She felt herself becoming wet in her anxiety and she started to picture a glistening trail of her juices seeping out down her thigh. She imagined a man lifting her skirt as she tried vainly to fend him off and being encouraged by her obvious evidence of lust. Her mind whirled around these images as she heard, almost subliminally, the voice recount to her how exciting it would be to become a street hooker. She pictured hands on her breasts and the press of a wall at her back and the heat of a male figure pressing against her body, his urgency inflaming her own, his hands everywhere and she unable, or was it unwilling, to fend them off. She started to walk quicker down the road and the click clack of her shoes on the pavement seemed to echo in her head. The place seemed dark and menacing, perhaps all the more so because it was echoing in the dark and menacing recesses of her mind. Quickly she regained the lights of the main street and suddenly the apparitions faded. She was back in the real world, and could only marvel in some shock at the way turning a single corner could take you from one world to another. She had never realised quite how close the world of seedy, cheap prostitution was to the commercial everyday life she was used to. It was happening all around her, not in some far distant place, just round a corner she had never turned before. Now she knew, she realised that walking the high street would never be the same for her. There would always be that lure of the hidden roads at the back. She would never be able to cross those streets her mind free with her own cares. Now her cares would include the attraction of the fear of turning down those dark alleys, revelling in the fantasy of being one of those street girls dressed up to sell their bodies to someone, anyone who cared to stop and approach. She would not know who they were and they would not care who she was, only the raw craving for sex and the adventure would drive them both. She felt shame at these thoughts but made no attempt to turn her mind away. She was back in the world of her own high street, but her mind was still roaming those lanes and as she walked she could feel the dampness of her panties rubbing against her clitoris, already hot and enlarged. She dived into one of the shops to take her mind off her groin. She looked around the clothes and started to select different items to try on. She moved around the racks of clothes absent-mindedly and when she had collected enough she moved towards the changing rooms. As she took her clothes off she seemed to focus upon the items she had selected for the first time. With a shock she realised that all the blouses she had selected were very tight and low cut, the skirts short and she had even selected some black satin panties with a high cut. Why did she select these items, she never wore anything like this, they were far too revealing. She wondered whether she had chosen them herself or whether she had been instructed to choose them. Then she reminded herself that all these voices in her head were her own deep buried desires, but did she really wish to flaunt herself in this way? Dressed in these clothes she would look like the hookers she had just seen. Of course, that was what it was all about. She had been absent minded and yet still had programmed herself to dress up like those prostitutes she had just seen and act out that fantasy. Suddenly it dawned on her that those back streets could not have been dragged out of her subconscious as she had never been down that neighbourhood before and had had no idea of what went on down there. She couldn't have taken herself down there. The voices in her head could not be her own desires but those of someone real - her master who had taken such firm control over her that she even bought the clothes he told her, without even registering the fact that she was obeying another will. She dropped the clothes on the floor and stared at herself in the mirror. She had a good figure, which was no doubt the reason he had chosen her. She wondered what she would look like dressed as a hooker. She picked up the clothes and started to put them on. Part of her brain told her she must fight and not do this, but another part craved the sexual release she got from obeying him. Besides she was alone and no one need know. She pulled the top on and was surprised at how much larger her breasts appeared once encased inside the tight top. She squirmed into the skirt and was amazed at how short it was. She bent over looking in the mirror and could catch a glimpse of her white panties with a very noticeable stain on them. She took them off and replaced them with the black ones and as she bent over realised just how hot she looked. On leaving the shop she went in search of some high-heeled boots for her new outfit and having purchased them she went to the nearest toilet to change. She used her dildo on herself as she was again too aroused by what she was doing to ignore her desires. An ordinary girl had entered that toilet but a streetwise slut had left it. She had expertly applied the makeup she had just bought and knew that the way she must look would be irresistible to any man. She walked up the side streets once again and as she reached the corner of a small side alley a man approached her. She heard the voice in her head tell her to stop and turn towards him. She looked up into his eyes as he bent down and started to kiss her. His hands approached her breasts and he squeezed them through the fabric pulled so taught between her twin globes. He pushed her backwards until she felt the coldness of the wall at her back, without stopping he probed her mouth. She found herself responding she was again lost in her world of reverie and did not allow her brain to interrupt the sensations that were sweeping through her body. He continued to kiss her and started to raise her top so that his hands could encompass the bare flesh of her breasts. She felt her nipples painfully erect, so sensitive that even the fabric of her bra seemed to rasp against them. It was a relief when they were finally exposed to the cool air. He dropped his hands to her skirt and she had to help him to raise her skirt over her buttocks until it was like a wide belt resting on her hips. His hand was at her cunt and she knew she was ready for him. His probed fingers dragged across her clitoris that was so active by this time that she caught her breath. He wrapped his hands around her thighs and pulled them up pressing her back further into the wall. She spread her legs and wrapped them around his waist as he thrust his cock deep into her in one swift movement. She was impaled upon his member, being carried along by sheer lust and unable to get enough of him. She smelled his scent as he kissed her neck and continued to pound into her. She was moaning small mew like moans as her body jumped up and down against the wall in rhythm to his thrusting. He ejaculated inside her and she exploded with the release of yet another powerful orgasm. As he pulled out of her she straightened her skirt wondering what she should do now. Should she ask him for money? Should she just wait and expect him to make the move? Should she just run away from her shame? He pulled out some banknotes and thrust them towards her. She reached out and took them without taking her eyes off him. She was ready for him to take her again right away if he had wanted, but neither of them spoke and he moved away up the street. She stood there feeling used and somewhat nauseas at the thought of what she had just done. It was a complete personality change and the worst part of it all was that she had enjoyed it and craved more. Over the next week or so she continued as a part time prostitute and used the money to supplement her wardrobe with more sluttish clothes. Some of her clients had taken her roughly others more tenderly. Sometimes she had gone to a small hotel other times pressed up against an alley wall. She was becoming an expert at the various ways to pleasure a man, but each time, no matter how it happened, what the man was like or what he said or did, all of this was a prelude to the surety that she would reach orgasm. She craved it more and more and had long ago stopped taking her medication. She no longer wished to be free of her desires, she just wanted to always be in a state of arousal and orgasm and she learned how to achieve it with the smallest of encouragements. One day she was approached by a man, who fucked her up the ass, pressing her breasts against the wall and spreading her buttocks wide for his enjoyment. There was nothing unusual in this, but what singled this punter out from the crowd was that afterwards he asked her to marry him. She was so shocked at what he had said that she had to ask him to repeat it, but even as he repeated it she heard the voice in her head tell her that she was to accept. This man was a gift to her from her master who wanted her to marry him. She just stared at him not knowing what to say, but deep inside her she knew that she was going to marry him whatever else may happen. She had long given up the attempt to break free from her master's control and experienced such great pleasure from being remotely controlled by him. She wondered whether he had ever approached her in that dark alley and fucked her properly or was he content by the little hand job she had given him in the train – now seemingly so long ago. The day of the wedding came and she was dressed in a beautiful white gown that flowed down from her waist. She felt very uncomfortable with this image of virginity after all she had gone through and what she had become. Yet she got through the service and she and her new husband set off for their honeymoon. He had booked a suite in a large fancy hotel and as they entered she went over to the window to look out over the view. It was fantastic and once again she found herself feeling unworthy of his affection. She wondered whether he had any idea that she was a slave to another man who could switch her on at a moments notice. She looked back at him as he beckoned her over to the bed. She went over and they hugged and then he gently pushed her onto the deep mattress. He lay on top of her kissing her and started to lift the many folds of her dress. He collected them all up around her midriff exposing her cunt that she knew was wet with her excitement. He moved around her and knelt on the bed above her head and looked down on her as he took hold of her hands, gently drawing them above her head. With a look of love in his eyes he bent down and kissed her once again and then called out: "She is ready!" She looked quizzically at him. What was the meaning of this? Who was he calling to? Then to her horror she heard the door to the suite open and a man enter. She looked down between her legs towards this stranger who had entered. She struggled to free her hands but her husband held them firm as the stranger came over and climbed onto the bed between her legs. He pulled her knees further apart and looked down at her glistening crack. He then proceeded to take off his clothes – slowly almost ritualistically. When he was entirely naked she started to plead with him and with her husband, but neither took any notice. She looked at his long hard cock as it approached her cunt. He entered her in one movement, sliding in effortlessly. Towering over her prone figure he rested his weight upon his hands and looked down at his prize. Suddenly she knew who he was, it was her tormentor at last, face to face. She could see the gloating look in his eyes but she could also feel the pull of her muscles around his member that was at last buried deeply inside her. They stared at each other for a moment, unspeaking but he must be able to feel her wetness and the play of her muscles as she tried to draw him in deeper. They recognised each other without words and they both knew their roles in this relationship without it having to be said. She was his. She may be married to a man that was there holding down her arms pressing them into the softness of the bedcovers while this stranger entered their bedroom, entered his wife and he was facilitating it, watching eagerly what would happen. She realised too that he was just another puppet to this man. They had married each other, but it was their joint master's decision they be married and now they were waiting his next instructions. It was all so clear to her as she started imperceptibly to gyrate her hips around his rod. Breaking Esther Ch. 2 "I'm glad to see you recognise me Esther. It has been a long time, but we have met before. Remember your first punter in that dark alley? I just couldn't resist you any longer when you were all dressed up in those cheap whore clothes I got you to buy." A thrill ran through her at these words. She was glad that he had not been able to resist her and that she held some allure for him. As these thoughts flashed before her she started to realise that she was dressed in her wedding gown because she was really marrying her master. This was their nuptial night and her legal husband was almost an irrelevance. As if reading her thoughts he said: "Yes Esther you are my bride, but you are not the only one. That is why you have your legal husband here. I will come as a God visits His subjects and whenever I come your husband will make sure you are ready for me. Whatever you are doing you will stop and lay down with legs spread ready to be fucked by me. Throughout the rest of your life that is to be your one true purpose to bring me pleasure and to be always available for me whenever I call. You have no authority over me, however, and if I should not turn up for some long time then you will simply wait and get on with your life, but I will suddenly appear and then you will act out for me my fantasy as if I had never gone away. You are to always lust after me and desire my attention whether I choose to give you any or not. In this way will you know that your place is as my subject and I am your God. Never forget that Esther, otherwise you will bring out a cruel streak in me." She listened to his words and silently acknowledged them. After all he was only stating the facts as they had been now for some time. Yet by stating them, by spilling them into reality then they seemed to force the fantasy out into the open to pollute the whole of her life. No more would she be able to turn the corner out of those dark streets into the light of her "normal" life, for this was to be her life now in its entirety. He was forcing her to confront her absolute submission. She was not able to choose her own husband or her own home, and she was being forced to accept that no matter how ordinary her life might seem, whenever he would show up she was to immediately and unquestioningly turn aside into that dark part of her that accepted him to ruin and degrade her. She was being forced to acknowledge beforehand how this degradation excited her and that contrary to actually loathing those times he might appear she would actually be desperately awaiting his return and hating the emptiness of her life in those times in between. Very slowly he had started to ease his penis in and out of her as she continued to gyrate her hips. They still stared at each other making complete eye contact. She knew that she had no will to pull her eyes away from his and that he was demanding her to look him in the eye as he made the rest of his speech to her. "I will come often at least in the early months and will fuck you – either slowly and tenderly as I do now on your wedding night, or brutally without care for your pleasure. It will be often and regular and soon you will become pregnant. You will bear my children. You will not bear any children with your legal husband as I have trained him to suffer excruciating pain every time he enters a woman's womb. He can now only obtain pleasure through masturbation or anal sex. You will service him with your anus, but if you try to lure him into that sopping pussy of yours he will suffer so badly that he will be unable to remain erect. In this way you will both know that whenever you do become pregnant – which will be several times, that I am the father of your children. Your husband's job is to make sure you remain faithful to me and to facilitate your being impregnated with my seed. Once you become pregnant he will look after you and together you will bring up my children. As far as everyone else is concerned you will be a happy family and no one need know that your husband is helping, in full knowledge, to bring up my bastard children. He will be present each time I fuck you helping to dress you and prepare you, perhaps opening those sweet cunt lips of yours to facilitate my penetration of his bride." Suddenly she was shaken out of her torpor by a stinging slap across her face. She stared confused as if she had suddenly awoken from a dream and unable to work out where she was or what had woken her. She looked back at her master and realised he was still resting on his hands. She could not move her own arms to bring her hands to her face and this made her remember her husband still holding her down while her master pumped slowly in and out of her vagina. She felt a cold stickiness on her face and it was starting to run over her cheek. She was still unable to put together the pieces of this puzzle as she fought to bring her mind back to reality. The cold stickiness had now run down her cheek and the side of her face. It pooled into the crack at the edge of her mouth and she felt it seep into her mouth. It was salty and cloying. Suddenly she realised what it was, her husband still kneeling above her head had just ejaculated over her face listening to the words of their master. He had been so excited about preparing his own blushing bride to service his master whenever he should turn up and the thought that he would be bringing up somebody else's children that his own wife had carried, had brought him to the point of ejaculating all over his wife's face. This realisation brought home to her the measure of her own defeat, that they were both truly enslaved by this man, and all the time she felt the rising heat in her loins as she welcomed his shaft plunging into her. "But that is not all Esther. You are not the only couple bringing up my children. I am free to sow my seed with all the beautiful women I have selected and they bring them up with their loving husbands. Yet I am not content just to procreate my genes but those of my children down through the generations so that my descendents will inherit the Earth. My sons that you will bear will one day learn how to make the same implants that I have inserted into you. They will go out and do the same as I have done to other women and so spread their seed and so on generation after generation. They will need to be taught how to dominate a woman and you will teach them how. You will tell them how to capture a woman's mind into slavery as I have captured your mind. As they get older I will give them control over your own implants and they will then be able to put suggestions into your mind and switch on your arousal whenever they desire. You are not only to be my slave but the slave of your own children. Knowing how teenagers learning about sex are, I expect that you will have a rather degrading time, but you have already learned to enjoy that. Your children will be able to demand sex from you and they will fuck you too. They may decide to lend you to their schoolmates forcing you to submit in front of them to their every immature whim. All this you will explain to them beforehand as they grow older and you will prepare them for this task. You are to make your children into your own master. When they start to ask about sex you and your husband will show them your cunt and the different ways that you can be pleasured. When I come to fuck you they will watch their own father stand back and allow me access to your cunt, and indeed he will do everything possible to make sure that you pleasure me properly. Your own children will come to learn that their own father is a eunuch of my harem, and that you are just a vessel for pleasure. They will learn from you how your husband helped in the rape of his wife so that she would carry the children of another man. He will help them to lure other women into their trap." As her master continued to speak his thrusts became increasingly more urgent, he rocked back and forth and she gyrated her body desperately seeking release from the mounting and demanding desire in her loins. She heard the words he spoke and was repelled by them, but the images he conjured up in her mind inflamed her own desires to a point beyond which she could bear. Suddenly she felt his penis throb and disgorge its contents into her. She felt or rather imagined the stream of his sperm pouring into her receptive body, polluting it for the rest of her life and her future generations. As she closed her eyes she could see his sperm flooding into her womb seeking out her own ovaries which she was powerless to protect and that would betray her in turn with the birth of her future tormentors. She screamed as she came, and had never felt such an overwhelming pleasure. It made her whole body jerk for several minutes. Her breasts and her cunt lips were inflamed and burnt her. She felt the release to be free to pleasure. She could not stop any of the cruel things he was saying and this had allowed her to escape her normal levels of control during sex. It did not matter what she thought or what she did, all these terrible things would befall her and these images that she held transfixed in her mind would become reality for her, and this freed her body of guilt and released a torrent of pleasure that wracked her. She was accepting the delicious pain and pleasure that was to be her lot.