(Not So) Forbidden Fantasies

(Not So) Forbidden Fantasies
By: Cum Girl (cumgirl664807035@talktalk.net)

Forbidden Fantasies

I was recently honoured to be invited to join a new forum here on ES as a moderator. I can proudly announce that I am an ?Agony Aunt' and if you go to the forums there is a section to ask us ?Aunts' any questions that your hearts desire and we'll do our best to answer them.

Was it a wise decision for them to invite me to play in that particular forum? It was dangerous to release me from the straightjacket of my stories. It was dangerous for them to allow me to preen and chat, to posture and postulate. I am not constrained there. There is no truth; just questions that need a reply and my wicked mind, my deceitful tongue and my artful fingers respect no bounds as they seek to entertain.

Already I have made a mistake. I have told a fib and now I feel compelled to admit to it, to make a truth from my lie. I pretended there was a list of forbidden fantasies. A list I had shown to Master. A list I had emailed to Art. A list that was not suitable for publication. So now I will make amends. Here is my list of (not so) forbidden fantasies.

It is a day just like any other day and I am walking down the street. I am going nowhere specific and the environment is fuzzy, unfocused in my mind. Perhaps I am in a town; though definitely not the town where I live; wandering the shops. Master will be there; He is to be my witness. A man slows as he approaches, stops in front of me, starts to say "hello" whilst he searches his mind for how he knows me. Then it happens; I see the recognition in his eyes, see his face redden and with an exhalation of breath he will splutter my name: "Cum Girl." I will be so embarrassed and so proud. I will reach up, throw my arms around him and whisper my thanks into his ear. Then Master and I will walk onwards and I will beam my delight for all to see.

I stay at home, work no more, I am His kept possession. I could be Schoolgirl Cum Girl and He could be my stern Master who home tutors me with His own special curriculum; but I have told you that story already. Perhaps instead, I could live by the Code d' Odalisque. I would be His kept thing, a prized possession and the sole purpose of my day would be to prepare myself for His return. I would rise late and rested, spend hours on my beauty regimen; exfoliating, bathing, moisturising, drying myself with white fluffy towels, plucking my eyebrows, curling my eyelashes, straightening my hair, applying and reapplying my make-up till every part of me glistens and glows to perfection. Then naked and collared I would assume The Obedience Position just inside the front door so that as He enters He will be greeted with the sight of His Cum Girl, primped to perfection and ready to be used in whatever way He desires.

Or perhaps I could live in a cage positioned at the foot of His bed. A cage that is just too small for me ever to be comfortable. It would have a small mattress but no covering and I would be forever naked and collared, often bound and gagged or stuffed with dildos and vibrators. I would have no clothes and often be unclean, reeking of my own sexual odour. I would eat and drink from bowls placed in the corner of my caged world. He would take me out in the evening and I would crawl around on my hands and knees behind Him. He would use me if He desires and if He doesn't I will curl up below Him and slobber my obedience over His feet.

Sometimes He would place me in a wooden box. I would be secured; unable to move. I would be blindfolded, my ears and nose plugged so that I have no sense of anything. My world would be dark, my world would be silent, my world would be odourless. There would be no sense of day or night. There would be no sense of time. I would be so positioned that my breasts, my mouth, my pussy, my arse protruded from the box. He would use me without care or attention. He would fuck my mouth, torture my breasts, rape my arse, fill my soaking sodden pussy with His hot cock and endlessly punish my beaten, reddened arse cheeks. I would be nothing; just a body for Him to use and abuse.

I am His Pony Girl, bit gagged and butt plug tailed, my pussy lips spread by my harness, my nipples constantly abraded by my leather straps. He is taking me Eventing. I am to compete against all the other pony girls. I will have my hair braided, my body powdered, I will perform with grace and poise. I will shake my red mane loose and He will brush it till it shimmers. I will walk, trot and gallop. I will hold my head up high, my shoulders back, and my breasts thrust forward. I will assume The Positions. I will jump fences. I will be a pinto to their carthorses. I will be supple, lithe and eager; there will be no need for the whip to make this pony girl perform. He will stand with all the other owners who will congratulate Him on His wonderful Pony Girl, and He will be so proud of His Cum Girl when they pin the winner's rosette to my heaving, sweat streaked breast.

It is Saturday night and Master is taking His Cum Girl out into town with Him. He is going to tour the pubs and chat to His plentiful acquaintances. He is going to bar hop; a drink here, a conversation there. He is going to turn up His switch marked charm; be witty, be amusing, be a man about town. I am to accompany Him. I am to stand behind Him bathed in His light yet stood in His shadow. I am collared and leashed, naked bar nipple jewellery and a pair of heels. He will lead me around and I will stand a respectful distance behind Him at the end of my leash. I will keep my chin on my chest and my eyes fixed on the floor. I will not be offered a drink, I will not be allowed a cigarette, no one will talk to me, no one will touch me, no one will acknowledge my presence. I will be just another thing that Master has about His person; as necessary, as indispensable as the glasses he needs to wear; but a thing, His thing, His Cum Girl.

There is an audience. I am not sure where I am; maybe a shallow amphitheatre, a small marquee or perhaps a salon filled with well worn yet comfy furniture. I am displayed at its centre. Certainly I am spread, maybe I am bound, but it does not matter for Master is at my side. I am lit whilst all else is darkness. I can feel their eyes upon me and hear their breathing; uncertain, anticipative. There are men; there are women and they watch. They watch as Master and Cum Girl make love, they watch as Master uses Cum Girl, they watch as Master abuses Cum Girl, they watch as He treats her with love and affection, they watch as Master has Cum Girl cum at His command, they watch as I mould my body into His and become one with Him, they watch as Cum Girl cums endlessly for her Master's pleasure. They might gasp, they might "ohhh", they might "aahhh", they might leave their seats and approach, might push themselves forward, might jostle for a view; but they are nothing, an audience only, an audience of the mind and when the lights go up all that will remain is Master and Cum Girl.

He will bring her home for me. Maybe she'll be leashed, maybe not. Should she be clothed? I think she won't be. What will be clear is that she is nothing. She has no status, no name, no personality, no face, and no description. She has been brought to be a pleasure toy for me, be a pleasure toy for Him but she can't be somebody, can't be a threat, can't in anyway come between Cum Girl and her Master. She is there for me; so that I may dive my face between her widespread thighs, so that I may lick my tongue up the dripping wetness of her pussy and across her swollen clitoris, that I may cover my face with her cum. Then she could return the favour and I would arch my back as I squirted my pleasure across her pretty face and certainly I would want to taste my cum on her mouth, feel her breasts pressed against mine and have her hot pubis rubbing against my own. Surely Master would join us and I could instruct this little fucktoy in pleasuring Him. On how best to service Him with hand, mouth, breasts, pussy and arse. We would do it together, beneath the heaviness of the duvet till all was flesh and sweat, ejaculant and cum, till everything and everybody was slick, soaked and sated; and then she would be gone and it would just be Master and Cum Girl holding each other close, their breath hot across each other's face, their hearts pounding in unison.

Master and I have been on a plane for eight hours. We have traversed the Atlantic and are now stood at a luggage carousel in an airport somewhere in New York State. We are tired and dirty; it has been 13 hours since we packed our cases into the back of my VW Beetle and headed for Heathrow. It is cold here, the weather on our landing dirty and the excitement of travelling is no more than a dull thud beneath the aches and pains of being sat in the same seat for too long. Our bags arrive and we wend our way through customs, emerging into the chaotic mass of humanity that is an airport concourse. I scan the faces. He has a sign with my initials on it. I didn't need it. He sees me, walks towards me as I quicken my steps towards him. We stop a foot apart. He looks down at me. I look up at him.

"C.G."

"Lee, my good friend Lee, my proud American Toad."

He pulls me to him, wraps his arms around my petite frame.

"Oh Lee, I hope I'm not too much of a disappointment."

So that is it. Those are my not so forbidden fantasies. Some bring a twinkle to my eye and a smile to my lips, whilst some are mere flashes of thought. Some I desire, some I wish might be reality and some entrance me as an idea only. I will leave you the reader to decide which are which. All I really wish for is to be Cum Girl, to be with Master, to be loved and desired and cherished and owned; and I have that already.

Cum Girl x

That is the end of (Not So) Forbidden Fantasies. However, my friend Lee attempted to answer the reader's question contained in the final paragraph and then had the temerity to ask for the actual answers. Below is my ESmail to Lee explaining what the story is about and how I feel about each individual fantasy.

Hi Lee

Okay, this story is not as straightforward as it may appear. Firstly you need to look at its structure. It opens with a paragraph on recognition/celebrity and closes with a paragraph on friendship. Now this is a story by "Cum Girl" on an erotic story web site, yet the two most important paragraphs have nothing to do with sex.

I was trying to hint at two things here. Firstly there is so much more to life, relationships and happiness than sex and secondly I am trying to show the reader some of what I have got from being an author here on ES - minor celebrity of a kind and friendship. Both of these things I am very grateful for and would love to be a reality.

Code d' Odalisque. Yes, I would love to be kept and yes I would love to dedicate my days to being a pleasure to Him, but this is really about my need to be looked after by Him.

Cage. Absolutely, completely and utterly yes. But, this is about my need for punishment more than the actual cage, though Master is going to buy me one (I think).

Box. This goes back to a story I read a long time ago which for some reason has stayed with me (I wonder why?). I don't desire the actuality of this; this is about my need to be used sexually by Him for His pleasure. It's about sexual submission really.

Ponygirl. Much as I love to be a Ponygirl in the bedroom from time to time, I couldn't do this. Ponygirl's are a different breed and whilst it is fun to play, I am not one. Anyway this is about making Master proud of me.

Saturday Night. I've done all the component parts, just not together at the same time. I certainly can't see myself being lead naked around town. It's about how wonderful He is, how I am nothing beside Him and my desire for people to see our relationship as it is.

Audience. Don't we all seek an audience? Is this not what I do with my stories? Did you notice how there is no interaction between the audience and Master/Cum Girl. I seek an audience and then am petrified by its presence; and that's pretty much the answer, desire and fear combined.

Her. A fantasy only. Really this is about my insecurity and fear that someday some (body/woman) will take Master away from me. It is about exposing my emotional vulnerability. That is why she has to be description less and why she must leave immediately once she has fulfilled her sexual purpose.

So there you are another story just chucked together with little or no thought and the bare minimum of sexual content. No wonder I keep getting 5 votes.

Hope you're well.

Rushing again.

Cum Girl x