Unsatisfied, as usual.
Would anything ever relieve this insatiable, inceassant, burning ache inside her? A constant emptiness that nothing could fill, certainly not the surrounding opulence, the beautiful wealthy males she dated or even the rough characters she bedded. She needed it rough, craved the feeling of crude hands griping her thighs as the usually well endowed male took her with little regard. She needed to feel pain/pleasure for her to cum, ached to be punished and treated as if she was just a piece of flesh. Her therapist said it was an unhealthy response to her controlled upbringing and life, she didn't know the half of it.
If society knew about her slumming ways they would not be so eager to court her aquitance. As their reigning princess she was the one to know and emmulate, raised to be exactly what she was. Never a hair out of place or a foot wrongly placed her public persona was pure perfection and a cloying prison. Andrew Townsend demanded it of his children and the punishment for disobedience was unbearable. Her father could be trusted to come up with the most demeaning ways to subject his will on his children whom he kept leashed. How she longed to completely break free of the man.
Today however would not be that day. She had a charity ball to plan and little time to do so.
Getting up she walked to her bathroom, stoping long enough to check her reflection, well toned, her skin pale, smooth and flawless, full and pert breasts with a smothly curved petit figure. She knew she was beautiful
No comments:
Post a Comment