Ok...some asked me for some of my deviant thoughts in writing. Here is something I banged >;-) out in about 2 hours....
Celestine Wagner sat cleaning one of her .357 Colt Pythons (nickel plated of course-flashier) as was her routine after doing her three times a week target practice. She usually only shot a hundred rounds per practice, but today she was preoccupied and need to get her mind off of things so she shot about 200 rounds today-the feel of the blast in her hands made her forget what was plaguing her mind today. This one gun was part of a matched set given to her via her predecessor from her Master. She felt the heft and admired how well these guns had weathered time. Her predecessor told her that she had received them from HER predecessor who got it from HER predecessor for as long as anyone cared to remember. The guns were a collectors dream: perfect condition, no wear showing, ivory handles, with a six inch barrel on the end of each piece. They always looked like giants in her delicate, pale hands. She was perfectly manicured-as always-with nail polish aptly named Blood Red. This always made Celeste laugh. How ironic? she thought. As she was loading the last gun to be cleaned, she heard a noise.
She jumped to her feet with both guns pointing in the direction of the noise. Both were cocked and ready to fire. (Always be ready to kill whomever you are pointing the gun at, was what she was told at the beginning of her training so many years ago.) Some people at the local firearms dealer found it funny to see such a petite and slim girl ordering cases of jacketed hollow points to be used in these firearms. That was until she gave them a demonstration of her shooting prowess-one gun in each hand and hammers cocked back shooting Western Style. Her Master had informed her, with great authority it seemed, this was how the infamous Doc John Holiday would shoot. They laughed at her no more when they saw she had grouped her twelve shots so close it was hard to tell one bullet hole from the others.
The noise was coming from her Masters bed chamber. She realized that it was coming on Dusk, so her Master should be rising soon. The noise sounded like a gasp tinged with a little bit of fear. Then she heard a laugh, deep and throaty-it dripped with sex and pheromones. It aroused her desire. She always felt this when her Master laughed like that. She channeled her lust into the ability to be what she was trained to be-a cold blooded killerthe perfect bodyguard. She inched closer to the door to confirm her thoughts. Then she definitely heard feminine laughter and sighs of desire. Her Master had indeed awoken and was finishing off his last nights conquest with his Bleeder. His Bleeder was a young woman named Stella Jade Blue. She was a Stripper, Adult Performance Artist, and hard-core porn starlet. Her duties as Bleeder was to provide Master with his meals, wash his body in the shower or bath-whichever he chose, and clothe him when he had finished his shower. She also had the envious job of sleeping with master and would wake him with her own patented alarm clock- a blow job which would have the receiver cumming in seconds; this was her trademark. Her position was very similar to the Medieval Valet position. She tended to his every physical need-and Master was always insistent on this every need part. Stella was a very pretty girl, Celeste thought. Not her taste as she was a dedicated Hetero, none of this Bi sexual tripe for her, but Stella did get peoples attention when she entered a room. Stella stood a diminutive five feet four inches tall, probably weighed 110 pounds soaking wet, shoulder blade length hair usually dyed a shocking red-burnt orange color-but the color changed to match the slight clothing she wore out in public-if any. She was small breasted. Some men would not give her a second look because of this, but her legs and firm and young ass usually made them look again. Her dress was very scant and usually accentuated her assets. Master insisted that she always wear tall platform heels to make her look taller. Celeste could not remember how Masters latest conquest looked; there were so many of them. Besides they did not last long to get to know any better. Master used them as he needed and they were gone.
Wet sucking noises, moans, sighs and grunts (were they female?) coming from Masters bed chamber. Damn! He sure is a horny fucker, isnt he, Celeste thought. Then she chastised herself because to think such things of Master would keep her mind where she did not want it to go: Why does he fuck them and not me? I know I am pretty enough. Master had eaten out her pussy when she needed to cum to keep her healthy and mentally alert. He had even stood over her and had Stella suck him off when he would watch Celeste masturbate herself with the various toys and implements Master provided for her pleasure. Celeste shook the thought of the last time Master had done this out of her mind. She was on duty and she would have to wait until Master said he no longer needed her protection. This could take a while since she was, at twenty-seven, the chief of Security for Master and his compound and she did not like being far from Master for long periods of time. Even though she had trained the other bodyguards, she felt uneasy when one of them was on duty instead of her. This had caused her many sleepless nights until Master had taught her that orgasms would help her sleep-thus the nightly marathon masturbation sessions. She peered into masters room to see what was going on. She told herself it was because it was her job; but deep down she knew it was so she could picture Master tonight when she got herself off later. She had seen Master and his playthings in many positions before-some she knew were humanly impossible. This time was no disappointment as well. Holy-Fucking-Shit, she said under her breath and then closed the door as quietly as possible.
Celeste had barely returned to her post when Masters huge, heavy, finely ornate, oak double doors swung open with a bang.
It was Master and his eyes were glowing a dark red. Celeste knew this could be a good thing or a bad thing. It could mean ecstasy for some or a painful death for others.
Celeste gulped hard when she saw Master thus. Her lust leapt into the fore of her thoughts unbidden. How could she not? Master was perfect in every way. He stood six feet four inches tall in his bare feet. His mane of hair reached to his perfectly firm buttocks and was as black as any ravens wing Celeste had ever seen. He was so fair that many claimed he had to be made of the finest Italian marble, which suited him because he looked like an Olympian god. His frame and muscle tone was enough to make any muscle builder on the beaches of California envious. (It was rumored that Master had indeed been on the beach at Santa Monica and many body builders had been so jealous, they started a fight with Master. They did not last long. The others fawned over Master like the god he was. ). His finely chiseled face and jaw looked like it belonged to a comic book hero. Above his full, red, and lusty lips was a moustache and his jaw line was adorned with a van Dyke-style beard which came into what some called a Devils Point. They were of the same jet color as his hair. His eyes were an ice blue-the color that is sometimes seen in Husky dogs. His perfect body was decorated with many tattoos which allegedly held mysterious and magickal powers. Automatically, Celestes gaze followed a fine trail of hair below his navel to his cock. It was engorged and stood as erect as any telephone pole; what she could see of it. There was an expensive looking royal purple silk sheet hanging off of its end. Master was definitely gifted with his manhood. Some had described it as large as a two year olds forearm. Celeste did not agree with that description. She had seen it many times before and it seemed better built and harder than a forearm.
What the FUCK is going on out here? Master roared. Whats wrong? Did that son-of-a-scabrous whore attack us again? Where is he? I knew I should have drained him and made him my arse licker when I had the chance!
Celeste stood as a deer caught in headlights and mouth agape staring at Master. She shook the cob webs out of her mind and was able to murmur, Nothing is amiss Sir. I beg Masters forgiveness. I heard some noises from your bedchamber and knew it was a little before your regular time to be awakened. I thought that Master might be in trouble and I looked in on you. The sight was so beautiful it made me gasp and speak aloud. It will not happen again.
Master held her delicate face in his strong hand and smiled at her with love and appreciation in his eyes. Always ready to protect me, are you not?
Master knows I would gladly lay down my life for Master in ANY way he would need me to. She winced when she realized her lust made her stress that one word a little too hard. She struggled to gain control over her heat and become the killer she was trained to be.
Master smiled and released her face as he turned to go back into his bed chamber. Celeste heard the sounds of orgasmic bliss drift out of the massive doors. The first several were from the two women inside that carnal heaven. After a while, the deep, animalistic growl that signaled Masters orgasm over powered their voices. It escalated into what sounded like a wolfs howl and then the sound of heavy breathing was the only thing that could be heard. Celeste was not sure which of the breathing was harder-those from the three lost in the endorphin rush after such an encounter or herself.
Celestine Wagner sat cleaning one of her .357 Colt Pythons (nickel plated of course-flashier) as was her routine after doing her three times a week target practice. She usually only shot a hundred rounds per practice, but today she was preoccupied and need to get her mind off of things so she shot about 200 rounds today-the feel of the blast in her hands made her forget what was plaguing her mind today. This one gun was part of a matched set given to her via her predecessor from her Master. She felt the heft and admired how well these guns had weathered time. Her predecessor told her that she had received them from HER predecessor who got it from HER predecessor for as long as anyone cared to remember. The guns were a collectors dream: perfect condition, no wear showing, ivory handles, with a six inch barrel on the end of each piece. They always looked like giants in her delicate, pale hands. She was perfectly manicured-as always-with nail polish aptly named Blood Red. This always made Celeste laugh. How ironic? she thought. As she was loading the last gun to be cleaned, she heard a noise.
She jumped to her feet with both guns pointing in the direction of the noise. Both were cocked and ready to fire. (Always be ready to kill whomever you are pointing the gun at, was what she was told at the beginning of her training so many years ago.) Some people at the local firearms dealer found it funny to see such a petite and slim girl ordering cases of jacketed hollow points to be used in these firearms. That was until she gave them a demonstration of her shooting prowess-one gun in each hand and hammers cocked back shooting Western Style. Her Master had informed her, with great authority it seemed, this was how the infamous Doc John Holiday would shoot. They laughed at her no more when they saw she had grouped her twelve shots so close it was hard to tell one bullet hole from the others.
The noise was coming from her Masters bed chamber. She realized that it was coming on Dusk, so her Master should be rising soon. The noise sounded like a gasp tinged with a little bit of fear. Then she heard a laugh, deep and throaty-it dripped with sex and pheromones. It aroused her desire. She always felt this when her Master laughed like that. She channeled her lust into the ability to be what she was trained to be-a cold blooded killerthe perfect bodyguard. She inched closer to the door to confirm her thoughts. Then she definitely heard feminine laughter and sighs of desire. Her Master had indeed awoken and was finishing off his last nights conquest with his Bleeder. His Bleeder was a young woman named Stella Jade Blue. She was a Stripper, Adult Performance Artist, and hard-core porn starlet. Her duties as Bleeder was to provide Master with his meals, wash his body in the shower or bath-whichever he chose, and clothe him when he had finished his shower. She also had the envious job of sleeping with master and would wake him with her own patented alarm clock- a blow job which would have the receiver cumming in seconds; this was her trademark. Her position was very similar to the Medieval Valet position. She tended to his every physical need-and Master was always insistent on this every need part. Stella was a very pretty girl, Celeste thought. Not her taste as she was a dedicated Hetero, none of this Bi sexual tripe for her, but Stella did get peoples attention when she entered a room. Stella stood a diminutive five feet four inches tall, probably weighed 110 pounds soaking wet, shoulder blade length hair usually dyed a shocking red-burnt orange color-but the color changed to match the slight clothing she wore out in public-if any. She was small breasted. Some men would not give her a second look because of this, but her legs and firm and young ass usually made them look again. Her dress was very scant and usually accentuated her assets. Master insisted that she always wear tall platform heels to make her look taller. Celeste could not remember how Masters latest conquest looked; there were so many of them. Besides they did not last long to get to know any better. Master used them as he needed and they were gone.
Wet sucking noises, moans, sighs and grunts (were they female?) coming from Masters bed chamber. Damn! He sure is a horny fucker, isnt he, Celeste thought. Then she chastised herself because to think such things of Master would keep her mind where she did not want it to go: Why does he fuck them and not me? I know I am pretty enough. Master had eaten out her pussy when she needed to cum to keep her healthy and mentally alert. He had even stood over her and had Stella suck him off when he would watch Celeste masturbate herself with the various toys and implements Master provided for her pleasure. Celeste shook the thought of the last time Master had done this out of her mind. She was on duty and she would have to wait until Master said he no longer needed her protection. This could take a while since she was, at twenty-seven, the chief of Security for Master and his compound and she did not like being far from Master for long periods of time. Even though she had trained the other bodyguards, she felt uneasy when one of them was on duty instead of her. This had caused her many sleepless nights until Master had taught her that orgasms would help her sleep-thus the nightly marathon masturbation sessions. She peered into masters room to see what was going on. She told herself it was because it was her job; but deep down she knew it was so she could picture Master tonight when she got herself off later. She had seen Master and his playthings in many positions before-some she knew were humanly impossible. This time was no disappointment as well. Holy-Fucking-Shit, she said under her breath and then closed the door as quietly as possible.
Celeste had barely returned to her post when Masters huge, heavy, finely ornate, oak double doors swung open with a bang.
It was Master and his eyes were glowing a dark red. Celeste knew this could be a good thing or a bad thing. It could mean ecstasy for some or a painful death for others.
Celeste gulped hard when she saw Master thus. Her lust leapt into the fore of her thoughts unbidden. How could she not? Master was perfect in every way. He stood six feet four inches tall in his bare feet. His mane of hair reached to his perfectly firm buttocks and was as black as any ravens wing Celeste had ever seen. He was so fair that many claimed he had to be made of the finest Italian marble, which suited him because he looked like an Olympian god. His frame and muscle tone was enough to make any muscle builder on the beaches of California envious. (It was rumored that Master had indeed been on the beach at Santa Monica and many body builders had been so jealous, they started a fight with Master. They did not last long. The others fawned over Master like the god he was. ). His finely chiseled face and jaw looked like it belonged to a comic book hero. Above his full, red, and lusty lips was a moustache and his jaw line was adorned with a van Dyke-style beard which came into what some called a Devils Point. They were of the same jet color as his hair. His eyes were an ice blue-the color that is sometimes seen in Husky dogs. His perfect body was decorated with many tattoos which allegedly held mysterious and magickal powers. Automatically, Celestes gaze followed a fine trail of hair below his navel to his cock. It was engorged and stood as erect as any telephone pole; what she could see of it. There was an expensive looking royal purple silk sheet hanging off of its end. Master was definitely gifted with his manhood. Some had described it as large as a two year olds forearm. Celeste did not agree with that description. She had seen it many times before and it seemed better built and harder than a forearm.
What the FUCK is going on out here? Master roared. Whats wrong? Did that son-of-a-scabrous whore attack us again? Where is he? I knew I should have drained him and made him my arse licker when I had the chance!
Celeste stood as a deer caught in headlights and mouth agape staring at Master. She shook the cob webs out of her mind and was able to murmur, Nothing is amiss Sir. I beg Masters forgiveness. I heard some noises from your bedchamber and knew it was a little before your regular time to be awakened. I thought that Master might be in trouble and I looked in on you. The sight was so beautiful it made me gasp and speak aloud. It will not happen again.
Master held her delicate face in his strong hand and smiled at her with love and appreciation in his eyes. Always ready to protect me, are you not?
Master knows I would gladly lay down my life for Master in ANY way he would need me to. She winced when she realized her lust made her stress that one word a little too hard. She struggled to gain control over her heat and become the killer she was trained to be.
Master smiled and released her face as he turned to go back into his bed chamber. Celeste heard the sounds of orgasmic bliss drift out of the massive doors. The first several were from the two women inside that carnal heaven. After a while, the deep, animalistic growl that signaled Masters orgasm over powered their voices. It escalated into what sounded like a wolfs howl and then the sound of heavy breathing was the only thing that could be heard. Celeste was not sure which of the breathing was harder-those from the three lost in the endorphin rush after such an encounter or herself.
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miss chatting with u too hun
take care
*hugs*