PLAYING WITH YVETTE:
by Just Another Bloke
CHAPTER 1.
I'd seen her around the neighbourhood and she'd come into the shop a
few times. There was nothing particularly striking about her: Late 20's,
about 5'5'', slim, short dark hair, smooth olive skin, big brown eyes. She
seemed to be quite a shapely and buxom little thing, although it was
hard to assess her body with the conservative clothes she wore. Like a
lot of women Yvette looked very appealing at times, and other times she
was decidedly ordinary.
But it wasn't her appearance that attracted me to her, it was her
attitude. Yvette seemed friendly enough on the odd occasion she came
into the shop, but it was a transparently insincere friendliness. She had
an air of arrogance about her, typified by her smug expressions and
pretentious mannerisms. I wanted to be the one to wipe that smug look
off her face.
I didn't really know that much about her; I didn't know if she had a
boyfriend, or a girlfriend for that matter. All I did know was that she was
an English teacher at St Bridges; a very exclusive, very elite Private
School in Waverley. But I'd seen enough of Yvette to know that I would
like to spend some time alone with her; I'd like to play with her.
I've had my photographic shop for about three years, and it has never
ceased to amaze me how boring people are, and how boring their photos
are. Ugly babies, fat brides, boring people doing boring things.
Most of the nude or fuck photos are just strippers at bucks parties or
ugly women doing things with other ugly women. I don't know what it is
with ugly women, but they're the one's who really love having nude or
crude pictures taken of themselves, and the uglier they are, the more
explicit their photos are.
The rest of the nude and fuck photos are usually just tits and cunts, no
head shots. Or the pictures are so out of focus that you can't see a face
to go with the cunt. There had been five occasions in the three years I'd
had the shop that I had come across photos I was able to use. Yvette
made it Six.
She came in one morning with two rolls of film. As she passed me the
second roll she said more to herself than to me:" I don't know what's on
this one....." She said something about finding it in a draw but I wasn't
really listening. My mind was preoccupied speculating as to what she
looked like underneath her drab attire.
" I'll pick them up in the morning." She said in that disinterested and
indifferent voice of hers. A hint of the subtle fragrance she wore lingered
in the air around me as I watched her strut across to the door. She even
had an arrogance about her in the way she walked.
The first roll of film was just the normal boring shit. Sydney Airport; a
Qantas 747, the inside of a plane, the tarmac of a runway, clouds, and
then more clouds. " How fucking exciting. That was worth taking 36
pictures of." I said to myself as I watched more pictures of clouds fall
into the tray.
The first few photos on the roll she'd found in the draw were just as
boring: Yvette on the ferry on her way to Liberty Island; Yvette looking up
at the Statue of Liberty; Yvette climbing the stairs inside the Statue of
Liberty; Yvette looking out from the Statue of Liberty. Then no more
Yvette, just pictures of the view looking across to Manhattan.
I was sitting there watching the pictures falling into the tray, thinking how
fucking stupid people are when I saw it. Yvette lying naked on a bed,
shoving a big red dildo up her arse.
I don't care what people say; in life, there is no substitute for luck.
There were eleven photos of Yvette and her little red plastic friend
including two of her doing something that even I found disgusting. Her
pretty little face was perfectly clear and well lit in five of them. The other
six were just close-ups of her cunt. I assume it was her cunt, but maybe
her friend with the camera had a cunt too ?
The timing couldn't have been better, Melanie was visiting me that night.
It was the 27th time Melanie had visited me; the 27th time I'd played
with her, and it would be the last time I played with her. I've always held
the view that in situations like this you need to give the woman a sense
of hope. I could easily have told Melanie that her arse was mine for as
long as I wanted, for whatever I wanted. But you can never be sure how
the woman is going to react; whether she's mentally and emotionally
strong enough to endure an experience of that kind not knowing when it
would end, or if it would end.
It's always possible that someone will find the woman's breathless body
sprawled out on her bed with a stomach full of sleeping pills or
amphetamines. You've got to give them some sense of hope, that's the
approach I had adopted with Melanie: 28 photos, 28 visits, and it would
all be over. I would adopt the same approach with Yvette.
" I'll deal with you tomorrow bitch." I said, looking at a picture of Yvette
fucking herself with her big red dildo. For now though, my thoughts were
on Melanie, how we'd met, how I'd got her to submit to me, and how I
would play with her for the last time that night.
Melanie was a 27 year old mother of two, she'd only been separated
from her husband for a matter of months when I first met her. She had a
dark Mediterranean look about her: Shoulder length black hair, a pretty
face in a very homely sort of way, big tits with very dark areola and
incredibly long nipples. Her general body shape wasn't bad for a woman
who had given birth to two children. Her cunt was not her most attractive
feature though; she had big ugly cunt lips which I found most
unappealing.
She was a very unassuming and demure woman in both her appearance
and her demeanour. A rather plain woman, not unattractive, but not the
kind of woman who turned heads. I certainly wouldn't have noticed her
had I not seen her photos.
It was humiliating enough for women who had to submit to me because
of their own stupidity, but it must have been even worse for Melanie; to
have to submit to me because she had been betrayed by the person she
trusted the most; betrayed by her husband. He may as well have given
Melanie to me with a note around her neck saying: " Here, she's yours,
do what you want with her."
But, all that aside, if Melanie hadn't behaved like such a perverted little
slut in the first place, he wouldn't have had the photos , he wouldn't have
been able to betray her.
All women have a touch of slut about them, some more than others. They
all have their own fetishes and fantasies. Their own rape, or incest,
or gang-bang fantasies. Sometimes it seems the more outwardly
innocent and virtuous a woman appears, the more bizarre and perverted
her fantasies are. Such was the case with Melanie. The fantasy that
obsessed her had been the same for as long as she could remember,
and it always happened the same way. She'd be naked except for a red
silk robe, she would get down on her hands in the dirt and a Rottweiller
would mount her from behind.
Mel, as her husband called her, had been married to Brendan, a high
school Biology teacher for 3 years, and had bore him one child when she
confided in him about her fantasy. There were times after that when Mel
would describe what happened in her fantasy while they fucked.
Apparently the thought of his wife getting mounted and fucked stupid by
a dog appealed to Brendan.
About six months after the birth of their second child, who doubtless was
conceived while Melanie was crying out " Fuck your bitch on heat,"
Brendan and Mel moved into a larger house, and by a happy
coincidence, or an act of God, or more likely an act of Satan, their new
neighbours had a 3 year old Rottweiller they called Khan, and their new
house had an old tool shed with a dirt floor.
Melanie and Brendan remembered smiling mischievously at each other
when they first saw Khan. He was a 110kg growling, drooling ball of
muscle. His head was Mel's crotch height when he stood in front of her,
something she apparently found rather distracting. Mel and Brendan did
the 'fuck the dog' talk more often when they were having sex and they
joked with each other about Mel consummating her relationship with
Khan.
Brendan claimed he caught Melanie looking out the back window at
Khan and masturbating on several occasions, Mel denied it, but
admitted there were times she masturbated in bed or in the shower
thinking about Khan. Each claims the other was the first to suggest that
Mel actually live out her fantasy with Khan, but both of them wanted it to
happen, both of them helped arrange for it to happen and they both
enjoyed it, so who suggested it is irrelevant.
The opportunity arose shortly after they moved in. Kahn's owners were
going away for the weekend; Melanie and Brendan grabbed the
opportunity presented to them. They offered to look after Khan, their
neighbours accepted gladly, not knowing just how well Melanie was
going to look after their dog. The kids were offloaded onto Melanie's
sister for the weekend.
Apparently the idea was that they'd go to the shed, Mel would get down
on her hands and knees in the dirt with her arse up in the air while
Brendan held Khan on a leash, his panting, growling head just a few feet
behind her. Mel would start off just masturbating, pretending that Khan
was fucking her, it would be up to Mel to decide whether to go through
with it or not. It was an obviously stupid fucking idea by two obviously
stupid fucking people; neither even considered that Khan might actually
have his own thoughts on what should happen when Mel's wet cunt was
in his face.
Brendan and Melanie enjoyed a romantic dinner together with wine and
candles and soft music. Melanie was naked beneath the red silk robe
she'd bought the previous day. The robe was exactly like the one she
wore in her fantasy.
After dinner they sat on the lounge together and watched a beastiality
video. So much for the romance. Melanie was apparently almost frothing
at the mouth after watching the video. Brendan claimed she actually left
a large wet patch where she was sitting, Melanie didn't dispute this.
Brendan went down to the tool shed first, turned on the fluorescent light,
put the leash on Khan, and waited for Mel. She went down to the tool
shed a few minutes later, doubtless leaving a trail of cunt juice on the
grass behind her where she'd walked.
Their versions of what happened next were identical, word for word:
" Your bitch is here Khan." Brendan said, as Mel appeared at the door.
" And your bitch is on heat." Mel added, as she slowly undid her robe,
slid it off her shoulders, wiped herself between the legs with it, and threw
it on the floor in front of Khan.
Apparently the big Rottweiller liked Melanie's scent. He tore the robe to
shreds, just like the dog in her fantasy did. It was then that Melanie
noticed Khan's cock for the first time that night, she had made him hard,
and he was huge, just as the dog in her fantasy was.
" You're bitch is ready for you Khan." Mel said, as she got down on the
floor on her hands and knees in the dirt and started playing with herself.
" You're bitch is on heat, she's wet and waiting for you to fuck her with
your big dog-cock. I'm your bitch Khan, I'm your bitch on heat and I want
your big dog-cock inside me."
Melanie wasn't sure what happened after that. Brendan claimed that he
asked her if she wanted to do it, if she really wanted the big Rottweiller
to fuck her. According to him his wife just looked back over her shoulder
at him and said: "Yes...."
He led Khan over toward Melanie, the huge animal easily pulled loose
from Brendan's grip and mounted his wife, the dogs claws making deep
red scratch marks on her back as he thrust his cock at her cunt wildly
trying to enter her. Brendan claimed that Khan's cock was the size of a
man's wrist, but that it slid easily inside his wife in one savage thrust.
According to Brendan, after Kahn's cock was inside Melanie, he just
stood back and watched and listened. The noises the woman and the
dog made were unlike anything he'd ever heard, and that at times, it was
hard to distinguish which noises the dog was making and which noises
the woman was making.
Melanie denied having any idea that Brendan had taken photos of her
getting humped stupid by the dog. A full roll of photos in fact, 36 photos;
36 clicks of the camera; 36 moments of intense light from the flash; and
Melanie didn't notice?
Looking at the photos, at the expressions on Melanie's face, it's certainly
possible she didn't notice. The tool shed could have fallen down around
her as she crawled around in the dirt with the Rottweiler on top of her
and she probably wouldn't have noticed.
Brendan claimed it lasted for about half an hour, and that Mel climaxed
three times while Khan fucked her, and again when Khan shot his load
inside her. Melanie has no idea how long it lasted, but when forced to,
she admitted to cumming at least 6 times, the most intense of her
orgasms being when her and Khan climaxed together. How sweet.
The last photo was of Melanie lying in the dirt, seemingly only semi
conscious; covered in Khan's fur and cum, and her own cunt juice and
perspiration. It was an experience that Melanie would never forget, and
always regret.
Shortly after that night their relationship deteriorated. They both deny
that what happened that night with Khan had anything to do with their
problems; a young blonde student of Brendan's who had acquired a
taste for his dick was supposedly the problem. But what Melanie did
with Khan always seemed to come up when they fought.
" It's sick, she's almost young enough to be your daughter." Mel would
scream at her husband." And what about you ! You get off fucking dogs!"
Brendan would spit back at his wife. Isn't marriage wonderful?
It ended in a bitter, spiteful separation, which would surprise no one
with a modicum of intelligence. Putting aside the fact that Brendan was
married to a woman who got off fucking dogs; and that Brendan got off
sticking his dick in the mouth of a 15 year old girl, the whole concept of
monogamy and marriage is flawed.
They took each other to court, fought over custody of the children and
visitation rights, and property, and of course, money. As usual, Brendan
being the male got shafted by the courts; Melanie got virtually everything.
She stooped as low as she needed to ensure she won, and that Brendan
ended up with nothing; including bringing up Brendan's little friend at
school with the pigtails.
Brendan was left a very bitter very angry man, with no job, no money,
no access to his children, and a three month stint in Goulbourne jail for
having had sex with a minor. And it was all Melanie's fault.
Brendan came to see me shortly after he got out of prison. One of the
few possessions he had left was an undeveloped roll of film. He looked
like the looser he is when he came to see me. He said he had some
pictures he needed developed, but he needed someone he could trust,
someone who would be discrete. Out of all the photo processing places
in Sydney, he picked my little shop in Bondi. In life, there is no substitute
for luck.
Brendan wanted someone who would be discrete, but he was anything
but discrete himself. He'd told me his whole version of events before
he'd even passed me the roll of film. It sounded like he had recounted
his memories of the events of that night many times before.
I was very attentive and understanding: " She's a fucking bitch mate."
I said sympathetically. " I hope the fucking slut gets what she deserves.
mate." Brendan and I were mates now. And I would ensure that the bitch
got what she deserved.
I told Brendan I'd develop the film after hours, when no one was around.
The stupid prick believed me. Even more amazingly he believed me when
I told him the pictures didn't come out. I passed him a packet with 36
photos of blackness, with a few splashes of light. " The film was too old
mate." I said despondently. Brendan actually thanked me for my trouble
and understanding. Blatant stupidity is not the sole providence of
women.
He thanked me again when I told him I'd only charge him half-price.
Brendan wasn't a bad photographer. Most of the photos of the big
Rottweiller fucking Melanie were clear and well framed. Khan and his
bitch had red-eye in a few of them, but it sort of added to the effect in
some ways.
Melanie and Brendan disagree as to how many orgasms she had while
Khan was on top of her and inside her. But there were 28 photos that
had a clear shot of Melanie's face in them, time stamped from 11.18pm
to 11.45pm, and Melanie looked like she was cumming in every one of
them. Judging by the photos, Melanie only had the one orgasm, but it
lasted for 27 minutes.
I'm glad I took Melanie into my office when I first showed her the photos.
The stupid bitch completely lost it. She was hysterical. It took me about
half an hour to calm her down, about the same length of time she fucked
the dog for.
Even when I'd calmed her down she was babbling on almost
incoherently.
If Brendan got hold of the photos she'd lose custody of her children, they
were her life....." It was all very touching. Tears were rolling down her face
as she sat there in her stupid floral mummy dress. I even impressed
myself with how compassionate and understanding I was:
" I'm sure you're a wonderful mother Melanie." I said to her softly. " A
wonderful mother with a thing for big dogs with big dicks. Does your
daughter take after her mother?" I added to myself.
She kept raving on about how Brendan mustn't get hold of those photos.
She looked up at me with big sad eyes and said: " They're my children.
I'm their mother. I'd do anything for them. I always have." I put my hand
on her shoulder, looked into her eyes and said softly: " It's a pity that
didn't include only having sex with other humans Mel." And that's how I
got Melanie. Her husband did everything but gift-wrap her for me.
I'd enjoyed playing with Melanie, and I knew it had been quite an
experience for her too. So I wanted to make her last visit special.
Something she'd always remember.
At first I thought of taking her to the pound and making her pick a dog to
fuck for my entertainment. I thought that would be a rather prophetic
ending. But that was her thing, she'd enjoy it too much.
Melanie arrived at the shop at exactly 8.00pm as she had been
instructed to, and was dressed exactly as she had been instructed to
dress: A crudely short black leather skirt and a skimpy black singlet-top.
No bra, no panties, no shoes. The only other thing she wore was black
nail-polish on her fingernails and toenails. She was dressed like the
cheap slut she had become for me. But she'd only done it for her
children's sake, of course. God forbid they should end up with their
father who had a thing for very young women. The children were much
better off with their mother who had a thing for dogs.
" Is that how you were dressed on the bus slut?" I asked Melanie as I
opened the door. " Yes Master." She answered quickly.
" You didn't wear a coat and dump it before you got here?"
" No Master." She had a look of genuine surprise on her face. " I would
never disobey you." She'd come a long way in her 27 visits so far. I knew
she was telling the truth. It was the last time she would have to submit to
me. She'd gone through too much to fuck it up now by disobeying me.
Melanie had submitted to all my demands, but she had endured the
experience. She had never truly enjoyed the things I did to her or the
things I made her do. There were times she had climaxed, but it was a
purely physical reaction to what was being done to her, not the summit of
pleasure she sought. Her orgasms had been little more than bodily
functions. She had submitted to me, but she had never surrendered
herself to me; there is a difference.
I took her into the Entertainment room. I don't care for the word:
Dungeon. The room is not a dungeon, it is a facility. A place where I play
with stupid women like Melanie and Linda and the others; and sluts like
Kim and Rachael and their kind; and it is a place where I would soon be
playing with Yvette.
The room was in darkness, except for a pool of bright white light.
Melanie knew this place well, knew what was expected of her. She
disappeared into the darkness and emerged again in the pool of light
where she knelt down, looked over towards where I was standing in the
shadows and said: " What can I do to please you Master?"
" What can I do to please you Master?" Brendan repeated her words as
he appeared in the pool of light in front of her. Melanie had a look of
terror on her face and in her eyes that I hadn't seen since her third or
fourth visit. She'd grown used to being humiliated and tortured and toyed
with, and accustomed to my little surprises. She'd learnt to deal with
what I did to her. But hearing the voice of the man she hated and
despised so much. Seeing him standing there in front of her was not
something she could deal with.
" Master." She cried out looking around the darkened room, hoping I was
still there, but not knowing if I was. " Please don't do this to
me....please....." I didn't respond to her pathetic whining, I just sat in the
darkness and enjoyed it. Enjoyed the expressions on her face, the sound
of her voice. Enjoyed her begging me not to let him touch her.
" I'm your Master tonight my little dog-fucking slut of a wife." Brendan
said loudly, the bitterness of all that had happened filled his voice. And
technically he was correct. Not about the dog-fucking slut of a wife
thing, he was spot-on about that, but they were only separated, not
divorced yet, technically she was still his wife. His dog-fucking slut of a
wife, as he put it.
I watched Melanie's face, filled with humiliation, her mind racing. Just as
it was that day in my office. She had to make a decision. Submit herself
to the man she hated so much or risk losing the children she loved so
much.
She'd been through so much, tonight would be the end of it. The decision
wasn't hard for Melanie to make. She looked up at Brendan submissively
and said: " I'm just the dog-fucking-slut you married Master. I'm not fit to
lick your boots. But there must be something I can do to please you
Master. I'll do whatever you want, I'll do anything. There must be
something a dog-fucking-slut like me can do to please you or amuse you
Master."
Brendan looked down at her in amazement. He couldn't believe what he
was seeing, what he was hearing. He put his foot closer to her and
Melanie quickly lowered her head and began licking his dirty old second
hand op-shop shoes. He watched as her tongue collected all the flicks of
mud and muck until both his shoes glistened all over with her saliva.
Then he reached down and grabbed her by the hair and held her like
that, their eyes locked together.
" How many other dogs have you fucked Melanie?" His voice dripped
with hate and disgust for the woman he once loved, the woman who bore
his children.
" Just the one Master." She answered softly. Refusing him the pleasure
of being humiliated by what she was admitting. " Jack. A Doberman I
bought after we separated Master." He pushed her away in anger and
disgust, but their eyes stayed locked together as she knelt at his feet.
" Why a Doberman Melanie? I thought you preferred Rottweilers?"
His voice was filled with sarcasm, but he obviously enjoyed hearing her
talk about this subject.
" I do Master. But Rottweilers are too aggressive. Dobermans are easier
to train and control. Jack fucks me up the arse and licks my dirty slut-
cunt for me too." Melanie had done some research about woman's best
friend.
Brendan made her tell him all about Jack. How long it was after he'd left
that she got him: About a month. How often she fucked the dog: At least
twice a week. Where she fucked him: Usually on her bed. When she
fucked him: Usually of a night when the kids were asleep. Was his cock
as big as Khan's: No, it was bigger. Did she ever suck the dog off: Yes.
Did she swallow it: Yes. Did she like the taste of dog-cum: Yes, she loved
it. When was the last time she fucked the dog: About 11.00 o'clock last
night. When was she going to fuck him next: As soon as she got home
that night.
Brendan stood in silence looking down at Melanie for a long time after
that. Melanie just stayed on her knees looking up at him subserviently.
She'd learnt how to endure humiliation, perhaps even to enjoy it, just a
little.
For the next two and a half hours Brendan whipped her and fucked her
and abused her with a passion that only hate can inspire. Melanie did
everything he told her to without hesitating. He wanted her to cum while
she licked his arse hole; with the use of a large vibrator pushed hard
against her clit she was able to do what he wanted.
Brendan came once up her arse, and then again later in her mouth. She
swallowed every drop of his cum and licked his cock clean. When
Brendan was finished with her, he threw her into a corner of the room,
hog-tied her the way I had shown him, and took immense delight in
urinating all over her. It pleased me that Melanie opened her mouth
whenever he aimed his piss at her face.
As I watched him piss on the woman he used to affectionately call Mel, I
pictured their wedding day; the two of them standing at the alter
together; the minister asking them their vows: " To love, honour and
respect, as long as ye' both shall live." What a crock of shit.
Melanie was still tied up in the corner,covered in her husbands cum and
urine long after Brendan had left. I walked over to her and she looked up
at me: " Is there anything I can do to please you Master?" She asked
softly. " Yeah. Have a fucking shower."
After she'd cleaned up the mess, had a shower and cleaned herself up
she knocked softly on the door to my office and waited for permission to
enter. I hadn't left anything out for out for her to wear, so she was naked
when she came into my office. Like most women, Melanie didn't really
look all that good totally naked, and like most women, she knew it.
She stood in front of my desk and said: " Is there anything else you want
me for Master? "
" No. Do you want your receipt now Melanie?" There was an expression
on her face that is difficult to label: Relief is probably the closest. It was
almost over. " Yes please Master."
Melanie followed me into the Entertainment room, stood on the platform,
bent over the metal frame and grabbed hold of the handles in front of
her. I raised it to where I wanted it and began tattooing a red line, about
an inch long and an eighth of an inch thick on the left cheek of her arse;
it was the 28th such line I had tattooed on Melanie's arse.
I get the opportunity to play with women like Melanie and Leanne and
Yvette because they're stupid enough to give me rolls of film to develop
with photos of them doing obscene and/or perverted things on them. If
they want their photos, they have to earn them, and they earn them by
visiting me, and submitting to me. In Melanie's case, there were 28
photo's, which meant 28 visits and 28 lines tattooed on her arse. 28 was
more than most, but nowhere near as many as Linda. I still had over 30
photos that she had yet to earn, but I was bored with Linda.
The tattooing is a symbolic act in one way. It's a permanent mark I've left
on the woman's body, an enduring reminder of her time with me. It would
be an interesting point of conversation for any present or future partners
the woman had. It also has a practical function, it's a way for the woman
to keep count of how many times she has visited me, her receipt. But
more importantly, I like doing it.
When I was finished I stood back and admired the 28 red lines on
Melanie's arse. " Thank you Master." She said softly looking at the marks
on her arse in the mirrors around her. I was going to miss Mel. Perhaps
she was going to miss me too, then again, perhaps not.
Melanie looked very different when she walked into my office dressed in
the little Floral mummy dress she'd worn the first time she came to see
me. She looked like millions of other mummies around the country on
their way to pick up the kids from school.
The dress and everything she'd worn the first time she came to see me
had been in my office since that first time we met. She'd left that day
wearing a skimpy little bikini that was two sizes too small for her. After
her third visit, she left wearing only a T-shirt that had: " I do it with dogs"
written on the back.
Melanie the mummy walked up to where I was sitting on the couch in my
office and said: " Is there anything else I can do for you Master?" I
looked down at my crotch. Melanie immediately knelt down and began
undoing my belt.
" You don't have to do that anymore Mel." I said smiling at her. "It's
over." She had a confused expression on her face, as I walked over to my
desk and picked up a large envelope containing all the copies and
negatives of her with Khan. She wasn't sure if I was still playing with her.
" It's over Mel, you don't have to come back." I handed her the envelope.
" But you can still suck me off if you want to, you're very good at it now.
You could make a good living doing that."
" Can I leave now please?" Was all she said.
" Yes, you can go. I know Jack the Doberman is waiting for you."
I was finished with Melanie, the next day I'd start playing with Yvette.
