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It Was Written

A true story by anonymous

He picked up the phone and disengaged the clip that held the battery fast. The flat dense rectangle lifted gently away from the rest of the instrument. A mirror process liberated a charged battery from the charger on the counter and fixed it in the place of its dislodged twin. He dialed the phone number. His thumbnail poked out the key tone for reach number. The phone rang once...twice..."you are so punctual."

he sighed and stretched. A small little grunt squeezed out of him. She laughed. "Don't you have anything to say?"Hhe did not. he was still smiling. Happy from the sound ofHer voice and the pleasure of hearing it. The trance was already creeping up on him. he hung on though. She mightwant to talk about something first, some idle chit chat or a conversation. he almost did not care. The sound of Her voice was a source of pleasure to him. If She just wanted to talk, he knew it waswhat She wanted and there was an unusually large amount of pleasure in that too.

She did not though. She heard him drift slightly and announced Her intention to take him. His assent was the hypnotic analogue to being 6 inches in the air and asking Her how high She wantedhim to go; though now it was more like how deep. Time had become elastic under Her influence. Normally, he felt every tick of a clock in his bones. Under Her spell he did not know whether five minutes or an hour passed. Joy and pleasure filled his mind as he listened and relaxed, listened and obeyed the pleasure of Her, filling hisconsciousness and existence with Her thoughts, Her will subverting his. The thought of it was exciting and arousing to him.

She knew he had other lovers. Women he slept with. Whose pussies hepleasured orally and digitally. Women who he entered with his penis and filled with his semen. She knew because She asked and he told Her. He held nothing back from Her and nothing held him back from Her. She gave him this freedom and used this freedom to further bind him to Her. She was linked to all his pleasure and all his pleasure was linked to Her. Every woman he looked at and lusted after. Every woman whose scent he smelled. Every woman he tasted. Each lap of his tongue. Each thrust of his cock, drove him deeper into Her control. Each orgasm was a surrender to Her. It increased his pleasure and his desire for each of them. She had brought him to this, given himthis service to Her. He knew this and it aroused him. He was grateful to Her for it. She took good care of him.