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Blond Filth

Date: 2/28/2017, Categories: Fiction, Cheating, Female Domination, Humiliation, Scatology, Young, Author: byronnnn, Rating: 50, Source: sexstories.com

and privilege and worldly experience. She was regal and pristine. My shirt was plaid. "Hundreds want in," she sneered. "Few make it. Most want our luxuries and parties and to grovel for our spare money. They are often rejected. You have desperation. I might like that. Do you understand that without me, you lose Nicolette? Without me, your life is nothing. That is how it should be, now isn't it?" I forced myself to nod. "And so piss-ant, you are beginning to understand that I am superior and you are a peasant. Yes?" "Y ... Yes." I would have said anything. She lit a cigarette. "What you don't know is that those like your friend Brad—yes, I know you know him because we do our homework—we permit them to be among us, but they are our playthings." She laughed. "We have too much money and time and we have spent ourselves silly on all of the usual entertainments. They have become banal. We have become bored. We need you peasants to be our playthings and provide us with amusing decadence." She leaned forward until her face was about a foot from mine. My nerves quaked. "Brad and his kind may seem to have wealth but their cars and clothes and money are just our rejects. Don't you see, what we have already consumed and tossed aside as refuse, your people clamor for as your treasure? They bow in gratitude for the privilege of consuming what we have already used." She inhaled. Very slowly, she pursed her lips and breathed into my face. I knew to hold still and take it. "Very good ... piss-ant, just like that. I inhale smoke, then you inhale what I've already used. I am a Jupiter and you are a piss-ant peasant. I am superior and you are beneath me. Comprende'?" I had to agree. I fought a gnawing sense that maybe she was right. After all, I was the one doing the begging. She said it was too early to tell if I would be offered a contract of service or told what the specifics of my service to her might be. "Maybe tomorrow you will be ready." She doused her cigarette and added, "You have a chance, piss-ant. A chance. We shall see. Tomorrow, 2pm. Now get the fuck out of my sight you disgusting piss-ant!" I was humiliated and hated not knowing the specifics but I reasoned that if others had tolerated such things then so would I. Besides, I had more desperation than any of them. I returned the next day and things went about the same. She searched me with eyes that flashed side-to-side before she blew in my face and laughed, "Not today!" The following day, her eyes danced with even greater fervor and after a half-hour of derision she said, "Maybe today. Maybe. Are you ready?" I blurted, "Yes! I'm ready. I'm running out of time with Nicolette's father and--” "Get the fuck out of my sight you disrespectful retard! How dare you say this has anything to do with Nicolette! This is about me! Tomorrow is your last chance fuckface! Come back here and be ready to worship me! It's all about ME you stupid bastard!" I felt helpless, hopeless, and clueless. The next meeting went much ...