It’s been too long.

Yes. It has.

I’ve been thinking about you.

Is that right?

Yes. Right thoughts, wrong thoughts. Filthy, depraved thoughts.

I never would have guessed.

I know I’m a bad man for neglecting you, darling. Do you think you could ever forgive me?

I might be able to forgive you. “Might” being the operative word, there.

I’ve been reading your words.

You’re forgiven.

And looking at your photos.

Now, you’re definitely forgiven.

In the name of research, of course.

“Research.” Of course.

They are…  You are… You still are…

What?

Delectable. Exquisite.

I am?

You always have been. To me.

Oh.

I have a confession to make.

You don’t like the photographs after all.

I’ve been stroking my cock to them.

Oh god.

Oh yes, darling. I’ve been a dirty voyeur reading your words, looking at your body. I look at you while I stroke myself, taking my stiff cock to a hard, leaking missile, thinking about all of the things I want to do to you, thinking about the other men that might be getting off on you.

Fuck.

You’ve had that effect on me from the very beginning. You know that.

I wasn’t so sure there for a while.

I bet there are quite a few of them out there jerking off to you.

You like that idea, don’t you?

Yes.

You always have.

Yes, yes.

My lips, my mouth, my pussy, my tight little hole being taken and possessed by other men and used for their pleasure.

Oh. Fuck. Yes.

And their mouths and hands and cocks taking pleasure, giving pleasure, giving me pleasure, more pleasure than I’ve ever known, more pleasure than I can physically bear, more pleasure than…

Say it. I want you to say it. I need you to say it.

More pleasure… More pleasure that you can possibly ever give me on your own.

Fuck, fuck.

It turns you on even as it makes you a little crazy, doesn’t it, baby?

Oh fuck, yes. I’ve been thinking about you, thinking about this so much lately. I can’t get it, and you, out of my head. And those other men that want to fuck you. I get so hard knowing there are other men that want to fuck you just as much as I want to fuck you, as urgently, as savagely, as completely as I want to take you, fuck you, use you, mark your fair, pretty skin.

Actually, there are a few contenders.

There’s my little slut. Will you tell me about them?

There are five men, five very different men with radically different bodies and personalities and sexual desires. Five men that make me thump, that make me wet, that make me want sweet things, dirty things, downright debased things. Five men I want so intensely I fuck myself softly, brutally, passionately. Thinking of them, fantasizing about them leads my hands to my cunt no matter where I am or what I’m doing. It leads one, then two, then three fingers into my dripping slit, it leads my thumb to my needy, swollen nub, it leads my hands to my hot aching flesh, to my breasts, to my hard rosy peaks.

And this insatiable hunger and need will lead me to them. To all of them.

Oh, fuck. Fuck. You made me shudder. You’re making me shudder. My hands are shaking.

I’m so glad, baby. I like making you shake. It excites me like you wouldn’t believe knowing I have that effect on you. I’m dripping wet knowing my greedy appetite has that effect on you.

It does. You do. My throbbing cock and the precum smeared all over my stomach proves you do. 

Oh, that’s quite the delicious picture, lover. And you’re quite the exceptional man. Trembling, leaking, salivating, feeding off my perversity, off my need for men in their multiplicity. Off my need for you to be my filthy little voyeur.

Oh, I do. I do. With you, I do. I’m hard in an instant thinking of them taking you, spreading you open, filling every hole, roughly pounding your cunt, your ass, your mouth and throat, painting your petite body in rivers of their cream, you moaning and screaming from the extremity of a pleasure you have lusted after for so long.

I’m hard now imagining… oh fuck… picturing a big, thick shiny dick sliding out of your well-fucked cunt, come slowly oozing, dripping, coating your inner thighs and your ass as he straddles your face and your lips and tongue lick him clean. 

You’re such a dirty slut.

Yes, I am.

I like having you as my slut.

Oh fuck.

You like being my slut, don’t you?

Yes.

I can’t hear you, slut.

Yes, yes, yes.

That’s better. Shall I tell you, then, what I have in store for you, my slut, my whore, my beautiful little fucktoy?

Oh. Fuck. Yes. Please.

I like hearing you beg.

Oh fuck. Please, please.

I can’t quite hear you, slut.

Please. Please. Please.

That’s much better.

I’ve decided I want you there for the first of them. To see me with the one man I want the very most. The one who makes me throb and pulse and thump at the sheer thought of his hands, his mouth, his cock, his overpowering body. The one who sets off my starvation with the sound of his deep voice. The one who sets my cunt salivating with a single piercing look. The one who will eat me and fuck me and take me as no other has ever done before.

Oh god.

And all the while you’ll be tied to the chair by the bed, your painfully erect, uncut man-meat leaking delicious nectar onto your beautiful caramel skin, begging for touch, for my touch, begging for my mouth, my lips, my cunt, my hole as you watch him use and control me.

As you watch him make me his dirty little slut.

Oh, god. Fuck. No. Yes. Yes.

Yes, my darling, you will be there to witness it all. To witness the possession and domination of a body you know so well. To witness another man’s voracious cunt love being sated by me and me alone. To witness his lips and tongue devouring my clit, my kitty, my arse. To witness his hard cock filling me to the brim, his rock ramming, pounding, fucking my pussy, his hands searing my skin, grabbing at my flesh. To witness his thick, pink flesh penetrating the tight little hole I’ve only ever wanted possessed by you until now. To witness this big, strong hulk of a man smearing his face, his chest, his cock, every inch of his skin with my flowing juices, branding himself as my new lover.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

And once he’s done, once my spent, fucked, stretched, marked body has been his, after he is done making me his slut, I’ll proceed to make you mine.

Oh god. Oh god. Yes. Yes.

I’ll proceed to wreak my revenge on your body, a tender and brutal revenge I know you crave more than anything else.

Oh, fuck. I do. I do. I don’t know why but I do.

I care not why you do, my darling slut. I merely care to give you what you need and desire most.

Oh, fuck.

I know, I know. The dance is on, lover. Yet again.

It’s been too long.

Yes. It has.

His voice, initially thick, hoarse and grainy with pent-up desire, transformed itself in that glorious moment of release as I murmured in dirty detail just how my newly well-fucked cunt full of another man’s seed would forcefully take him, would insist on being cleaned by his lips and tongue, would slide itself to the hilt onto his raging cock, would envelop him in soft, velvety wetness, would urgently ride the piece that completed my puzzle, would milk right out of him the come that truly belonged inside me.

You will do as I say. You will do as I want. You have no other choice. And you know it.

I do know it. I know I have no other choice than to obey you. You, your voice, your body, your face, your ability to see me, see right through me, impels my body and mind to follow without question or reason. It leads me instinctively to you. It breaks me open, it strips me bare, destroys every vestige of my shame and inhibition.

I know.

I don’t know how this has happened so quickly. I don’t know how you can know me in this way. How do you do that? How can you know these things about me? How? How? How can you see and feel and know the very things I can scarcely admit to myself?

I already hate you a little for that.

I know you do. I know. I like that you hate me. I love that I do that to you, see right into you, see and recognise the depraved things you want for yourself, from yourself, from me, from others.

You see me, see into me, in the same way. As I see myself in you, you see yourself in me. I see the things you’ve never allowed any of the others to see.

Please, stop.

You know I can’t do that. It’s too late to go back. There’s no way back, not now. This you know.

Yes. I do.

Besides, you don’t want that. You like being my slut, don’t you?

Yes.

You love being my slut, don’t you?

Yes.

I can’t hear you, slut.

Yes. Yes. Yes. I love being your slut.

Tell me then, my sweet little slut, tell me what you imagine when you’re ravenous and desperate, when the ache crawls under your skin, when your cunt drips from its starvation.

I think about you. I think about excess. In those moments, I crave excess.

Of what variety?

Men. Many men. A roomful of men. Just for me. All for me. All there for my pleasure alone. Giving, taking, feasting, gorging.

I love how insatiable you really are under the nice girl façade.

I figured as much. I somehow knew you’d like that contradiction.

So, where am I?

You’re sitting in the corner of the room, my beautiful voyeur lurking in the shadows, as I am pleasured by a roomful of men.

That’s exactly where I want to be.

I imagine you stroking your hard, thick slippery cock as you watch these men taking me, fucking me, plundering me, giving me more pleasure than I can stand.

I think about my legs being parted by large, strong hands, a foreign mouth kissing my plump, glistening folds, licking and slurping and drinking my juices, his lips and tongue on my needy clit, my hips bucking, my body writhing. As I’m coming, loudly moaning and whimpering, another approaches and takes hold of my face opening my mouth, my lips and tongue skidding across his swollen head, licking greedily at the sheen before he slides his erection into my hot little mouth, fucking me slowly, steadily, then a little roughly, just as you like it.

Fuck.

Would you like that? Would you like that, baby? Would you like to see your slut being eaten by a big, strong man while another fucks her pretty little mouth?

Yes, I would. You know I would. You know I would relish watching your pleasure even in the face of my own jealousy, don’t you?

I do, baby. I do.

I also know when I come, you would like me to look you squarely in the eye, seeing the way that jealousy makes your uncut meat diamond-hard and slippery wet, your pleasure meeting your pain. Your handsome face would register another man’s invasion, my sodden cunt impaling itself on him to the hilt, filling me to the brim, my hips grinding and swivelling, small circles at first, then larger thrashing loops, our pelvic bones crashing, my fingers digging into his hairy chest, his force blushing the fair skin of my body.

Yes. Yes.

Rising from your chair, you walk over to me as yet another moves up behind me, nibbling from the base of my spine to my neck, languidly tasting, our lips and tongues at last consuming, his hands moving around to tease my small, pert breasts, hard and rosy nipples, his angry purple glans nudging my tight hole, hands moving down to part my cheeks wide as he takes the part of me that has only ever been owned by you.

Oh, fuck. No. Yes.

I think about you standing over me, joined by others, watching and stroking their cocks, using my mouth and my hands to jerk their hard-ons, using my body as a canvas for their newly spent hot seed. Hands rubbing and massaging the rivers of spunk, cream on cream, coating my slight body with the essence of these men, the essence of man.

This is just as I’ve pictured you, wantonly laid out for ready consumption and debasement. At my hand, at the hands of others.

You’re such a filthy little slut.

Yes, I am.

What happens when they’re done, when they’ve used you up?

You know what happens.

Tell me. Say it. I want to hear it. I need to hear it. Tell me what happens when your pleasure has been satisfied.

My pleasure is never truly satisfied. Until I have you.

Until I am reclaimed by you.

Until you take me back as your own.

Until you possess me as these men bear witness.

Until your naked body is intertwined with mine.

Until your jealous passion is released onto me, into me, into my mouth, into my cunt.

Until you fuck their seed out of me, until you lick away all trace, until you bathe me in your scent and sweat and saliva and come, until you immerse yourself in mine.

Until we ride the waves of pleasure together, until the marks on my skin are yours and yours alone.

Until we spend each other dry, use each other up, until nothing remains for another.

My slut. My beautiful little slut.

Always.

She smiles somewhat shyly, although her face unseen by him as she breathes softly into the receiver, the sound of his masculine yet mellifluous voice at odds with the deliciously debased filth whispered from his sweet lips.

Closing her eyes, picturing his beautiful face and hands, she listens to the liquid velvet accent outline the opportunities awaiting them, awaiting their flesh – the wet sounds from her throat as he fucks her mouth, the shine on his face as she smears and marks him with her dripping cunt, the binds she will use to dominate and possess, the bruises kissed with tender care after he has claimed her as his own.