A year or two back I posted a couple of
stories to the net, and amongst the replies was one from a rather interesting
and mysterious lady. She was obviously foreign: her English was difficult to read, and her
grammar was perplexing.
But
her ideas were dynamite.
Until now, she hasn't
published any of her work. But I've encouraged her to post a couple of her
stories on a "test" basis, to see what response they get.
Before you judge these stories, please keep in
mind that what you're reading here is my "translation" of her
original stories.
Finally, for all those of
you who think she's just a figment of my imagination, and to prove that she
has somewhat of an exhibitionist streak, here's what she looks like...
Delicious, eh?
Hopefully this will
inspire all budding erotic authors to the belief that there are some great
rewards to posting stories to the net...
Dolcetta's English has been improving rapidly in the time
I've known her. This came from an early story, a favourite of hers, as yet
unpublished...
That happened two days ago. They have had
found male dresses at Luigi, very much to small fitting him. They got it, they
know it. They have given us the choice: he or I. They are afraid , Luigi would
try every thing to free me. One of us must die. Fleeing or real love are
forbidden herein. Wiithout his knowledgement, I volunteered. Today I am on the
menu with two other slaves, chosen by the lottery. What will happen to me, I
have told the masters very well in all details. I do it by my free will, by
love.
For a last time I took a nice bath,
washed my hair and rubbed my body some parfume on. Soon they will arrive and
take me with them, and I shall follow, head up, dressed with new blue silken
underwear to the arena. Luigi will recognize me and he will suddenly got the
point, the point I have solved the problem in my way, I have volunteered. Two
men will hold him down on his seat. I shall strip my shoes, clipping off my
stockings, undressing them, undressing the gartner. Then I shall put off my
bra and slip. I can hear the silence of crowed. Probably they got the first
time such a spectacle. Slowly I untie my golden chains. Now, totally nude, I
am kneeling into the machine, I am ready. They have not tie me up, I shall do
all necessary, if I can. I press by myself the starting button, which will
move the spit ahead. I press the slowest rate. I bend forewards, laying my
hips on the Y-shaped support. On my four limbs, I shall adjust my ass, as I
have had sawn so often before, making some corrections for an exact position
of the spit. I moisten my lips with my own saliva, then I can feel the cold
steel touching my lips, moving my pelvis, adjusting it till the right
position, guiding the spit into me, I push my vagina on the spit, letting it
intrude, now I am in a comfort position, supporting my upper body with my
arms. Slowly the spit is moving on, pushing me foreward, probaly I shall be
aroused, no, surely I shall be aroused.
"I am raped to death by a machine" I
shall think. I am caressing my pearland the wetness helps the spit slide into
me. I resist the temptation to go out, to get out of the way of the spit. Or
to flee at the last possible moment. I keep my body still. Now the spit is
fully inserted into me, my skinn is streched around it, and slowly ist moving
ahead. I can feel a soft vibration from the spit. It is pushing me foreward,
my body against the Y-shaped support, till my thights were pressed hard
against the support. I know, that is the point, very soon I shall be
"penetrated" in a real meaning. Ist kreeping into me, more and more, reaching
the end of my vagina, streching my vagine, streching her to all possible
lengh, then I feel a sudden pain, when I was real penetrated. At once the pain
decreases and only a few of blood, like in my days, is tickeling down my legs.
This is a more recent example of her work. You'll recognise it as being from
Meat Girl of the Week.
“Ladies and
gentlemen, we are now entering the butchering section. Please don’t touch
anything and keep your lab coats closed. Usually we show only these facilities
and the butchering equipment being out of work, but you have booked our Super
Special Tour with life-demonstration of full processing.”
Caroline smiled
about her joke. “Life-demonstration”! She was quite aware, today she would
become meat and she was proud about. It would become a demonstration of her
changing into meat and if she would be lucky for living long enough, she would
get some comments about the taste of her meat.
“Ladies and
gentlemen, may I introduce you our today-meat-girl?” she joked.
The crowd
murmured in pleasure. Caroline wasn’t astonished, there were much more males
participating her tour as females. While she yesterday was exposed for closer
examination for the customers and for the final voting – a fading, burning
feeling in her love tunnel and at her buds was reminding her – she has noticed
much more men were stopping before her spread eagled bound body for taking a
closer examination of her. Much more men as women, as she had noticed with
delight.
Dolcetta's Page
A year or two back I posted a couple of stories to the net, and amongst the replies was one from a rather interesting and mysterious lady. She was obviously foreign: her English was difficult to read, and her grammar was perplexing.
But her ideas were dynamite.
Until now, she hasn't published any of her work. But I've encouraged her to post a couple of her stories on a "test" basis, to see what response they get.
Before you judge these stories, please keep in mind that what you're reading here is my "translation" of her original stories.
Finally, for all those of you who think she's just a figment of my imagination, and to prove that she has somewhat of an exhibitionist streak, here's what she looks like...
Delicious, eh?
Hopefully this will inspire all budding erotic authors to the belief that there are some great rewards to posting stories to the net...
Dolcetta's English has been improving rapidly in the time I've known her. This came from an early story, a favourite of hers, as yet unpublished...
That happened two days ago. They have had found male dresses at Luigi, very much to small fitting him. They got it, they know it. They have given us the choice: he or I. They are afraid , Luigi would try every thing to free me. One of us must die. Fleeing or real love are forbidden herein. Wiithout his knowledgement, I volunteered. Today I am on the menu with two other slaves, chosen by the lottery. What will happen to me, I have told the masters very well in all details. I do it by my free will, by love.
For a last time I took a nice bath, washed my hair and rubbed my body some parfume on. Soon they will arrive and take me with them, and I shall follow, head up, dressed with new blue silken underwear to the arena. Luigi will recognize me and he will suddenly got the point, the point I have solved the problem in my way, I have volunteered. Two men will hold him down on his seat. I shall strip my shoes, clipping off my stockings, undressing them, undressing the gartner. Then I shall put off my bra and slip. I can hear the silence of crowed. Probably they got the first time such a spectacle. Slowly I untie my golden chains. Now, totally nude, I am kneeling into the machine, I am ready. They have not tie me up, I shall do all necessary, if I can. I press by myself the starting button, which will move the spit ahead. I press the slowest rate. I bend forewards, laying my hips on the Y-shaped support. On my four limbs, I shall adjust my ass, as I have had sawn so often before, making some corrections for an exact position of the spit. I moisten my lips with my own saliva, then I can feel the cold steel touching my lips, moving my pelvis, adjusting it till the right position, guiding the spit into me, I push my vagina on the spit, letting it intrude, now I am in a comfort position, supporting my upper body with my arms. Slowly the spit is moving on, pushing me foreward, probaly I shall be aroused, no, surely I shall be aroused.
"I am raped to death by a machine" I shall think. I am caressing my pearland the wetness helps the spit slide into me. I resist the temptation to go out, to get out of the way of the spit. Or to flee at the last possible moment. I keep my body still. Now the spit is fully inserted into me, my skinn is streched around it, and slowly ist moving ahead. I can feel a soft vibration from the spit. It is pushing me foreward, my body against the Y-shaped support, till my thights were pressed hard against the support. I know, that is the point, very soon I shall be "penetrated" in a real meaning. Ist kreeping into me, more and more, reaching the end of my vagina, streching my vagine, streching her to all possible lengh, then I feel a sudden pain, when I was real penetrated. At once the pain decreases and only a few of blood, like in my days, is tickeling down my legs.
This is a more recent example of her work. You'll recognise it as being from Meat Girl of the Week.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are now entering the butchering section. Please don’t touch anything and keep your lab coats closed. Usually we show only these facilities and the butchering equipment being out of work, but you have booked our Super Special Tour with life-demonstration of full processing.”
Caroline smiled about her joke. “Life-demonstration”! She was quite aware, today she would become meat and she was proud about. It would become a demonstration of her changing into meat and if she would be lucky for living long enough, she would get some comments about the taste of her meat.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce you our today-meat-girl?” she joked.
The crowd murmured in pleasure. Caroline wasn’t astonished, there were much more males participating her tour as females. While she yesterday was exposed for closer examination for the customers and for the final voting – a fading, burning feeling in her love tunnel and at her buds was reminding her – she has noticed much more men were stopping before her spread eagled bound body for taking a closer examination of her. Much more men as women, as she had noticed with delight.