I invite Sam inside, saying that I would like to discuss ways for us to get along.  I offer him coffee and fresh baked cookies that I’ve just taken out of the oven moments ago.  Little does he know that inside those wholesome looking baked goods is a shrinking potion.  He wolfs down a few cookies and begins to feel a bit odd.  It’s about this time that he realizes that his clothes are suddenly too big and his feet no longer reach the floor.  Very quickly he becomes roughly the size of a roll of quarters, all the while whining and bitching that he’s going to “get me for this”. 

     I guess calling myself a giantess isn’t exactly the case, is it?  It’s more like he’s suddenly become a tiny little impotent pipsqueak railing uselessly against his normal sized captor.  Either way, the point is that he is under my spell, literally and figuratively, and I’m going to take full advantage and teach him the proper way to treat a lady.  It would begin innocently enough;  holding him by the scruff of the neck and dangling him playfully over my cat’s head while asking him if he’s going to lighten up and be a good neighbor.  Of course he’s still under the delusion that he has some control and continues to threaten law suits and every other manner of revenge if I don’t turn him back into his former self.  I squish him, roll him between my fingers, drop him into my thigh high boot, drop him into my pvc pants and sit on him, and a plethora of other fun tortures.  Thus begins the “pick the orifice” portion of our evening.  Oh yeah, you guessed it.  It starts with the fun orifice, but quickly goes downhill from there.  Ever been constipated and wish someone could just crawl inside and push the shit out?  I’ll let you borrow Sam.  LOL

Thanks Sam, it was fun as always.  Looking forward to abusing you further.  R.

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     I popped into a bookstore to pick up a birthday gift for a dear friend.  I knew exactly what I wanted to purchase and where it was in the store, so it should have been a simple in-and-out, five minute errand.  Unfortunately the moment I walked in I heard a pompous, windbag, know-it-all, piss-poor excuse for a man howling at the top of his lungs at a sales person.  I overheard said windbag accusing the young salesman of deliberately backing into him, thereby making him twist his ankle and drop his intended purchases.  He went on the humiliate the poor kid, who was undoubtedly simply trying to do his job, by calling him “Blind Bob” and suggesting he watch where he’s going.  Leave it to me to turn this into a hot fantasy…LOL.

     The first thing I wanted to do was rush to the kid’s defense since he looked as if he were about to cry, piss himself, or both.  The second thing I wanted to do was to teach this asshole bully how it feels to be emasculated.  I imagined strolling up to him, bending seductively to pick up his dropped books, and while handing them to him saying something like – I do love a man who knows  his place in the world and doesn’t take shit from underlings.  This seems like such a waste of perfectly good energy though.  Maybe we could think of a better way for you to blow off some steam…together.

     These thoughts entered my head before I could stop them and once they got going, it was not going to be easy to stop them.  I grabbed a book at random and found a plush chair within earshot of the scene so I could pretend to read, listen to what was going on, and plot out my little fantasy.

     I imagined “Mr. X”  giving me a cheesy grin that he would feel certain was charming, but in reality would be creepy and disgusting.  I just know his chest would inflate with the pride of knowing that his loutish behavior made a woman so hot for him that she couldn’t keep from throwing herself at him in the “New Fiction” section of the local Barnes and Noble.  My brain flew through a million different ways to get him alone but the bottom line was that once I did, in fact, get  him alone I would teach him a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget.

     It would start out as your average seduction scene;  kissing, touching, whispering our naughty intentions to one another.  The key here is the tease.  When he reaches for you, you stay just out of reach or let his hand just barely brush your skin.  When he wants to kiss you deeply, you pull back at the last second and give him only the very tip of your soft, moist tongue.  When he wants to rip your clothes from your body and hungrily gaze at your naked perfection, tell him that he can have everything he’s drreaming of if he will do one, small, thing for you.  This is where you tell him that you have a particular kink and that most men are too afraid to play it out for you.  This is a challenge he will not be able to resist.

     It is here that I would ask “Mr. X” to let me tie him up.  I would tell him that it’s light kink, at best, and that only a man who can overcome fear would be willing to let me do that to him.  He would offer up his wrists like sacrificial virgins to the slaughter in nothing flat!  As I sat in the bookstore pretending to read and dreaming up this fantasy, I began to worry at this point about leaving a wet spot on the store’s chair since by now I was becoming so horny my pussy was humming like a tuning fork and I was marinating in myown sweet juices.

     Anyway, I imagined that once I had his wrists tied securely behind his back I would pull out my handy, dandy, at-home castration kit consisting of a box of thin rawhide strips, a syringe with a large-bore needle attached, some saline solution, and a pair of poultry shears.  I would explain in great detail to “Mr. X” that wet rawhide shrinks considerably as it dries…all the while soaking a long, thin strip with the saline.  The look of confusion on his moronic face would soon turn to terrified knowing when he realizes that I am pulling his ball sac down and wrapping the dripping rawhide TIGHTLY around the base.  How adorable would he become when he started whimpering and begging to be set free, the reality of his situation hitting him like a wrecking ball?   The very thought of his terror makes me shiver with anticipation and excitement.

     As his begging and crying became an unintelligible gurgling I would be wrapping another wet rawhide strip around his sac, just above the balls, leaving a strip of flesh between the pieces of leather.  Now it’s time for the syringe and needle. 

     As I filled the syringe with a large amount of saline solution, I would ask “X” what could possibly give him more pain and humiliation than having his balls bound.  The answer, or course, is having your balls so filled with liquid that they could literally burst at any given moment and then being kicked repeatedly in said balls with 5″ spiked heels.

     If you can’t figure out what I use the poultry shears for, or just want to hear it from my very own lips, call me at the number at the top of  the site.  I would love to finish the story just for you!

     “Jessie”, as I call him when he’s dressed like a ladyboi, showed up at my house looking embarrassed and slightly nervous.  He was carrying a large suitcase filled with his pussy boy treasures: wigs, makeup, lingerie, stiletto heels, falsies and slutty dresses. 

     Before he stepped more than 5 feet into my house I had him strip off his male clothes and step into the bathroom.  I watched and gave directions as he shaved his chest, arms, legs, underarms, and between his legs.  No hairy panty boys for me!

     I love dressing Jessie up in her slutty clothes so I had him/her try on 4 different outfits before I picked out a skin tight red dress and thigh high boots with black fishnets.  Underneath I had her wear  a black lace bra and matching bikini panties.  I made sure her clit stick was well tucked and her falsies were sitting high and proud.

     Now I’m going to be cruel and make you wait to find out what happened.  LOL…Kisses…Renata

     As soon as my period would start, my cramps would start, and I would need some pampering.  If “J” was at work, I would call him to come home to take care of me, and he never failed to show up with a smile on his face. 

     He would undress and sit cross-legged on the bed beside me, holding a heating pad over my poor, crampy tummy.  As the cramps grew stronger  I would slip one hand between his legs and grasp his balls, squeezing and twisting them in an attempt to make him feel the way I was feeling.    I would start gently, even teasingly, and gradually build up the pressure until he was moaning in a mixture of pleasure and pain.  He would eventually begin to squirm in earnest, begging me to stop.  I would always tell him that if my cramps and pain didn’t stop, why should his?  It was then that he would beg to eat my bloody pussy because, after all,  nothing kills menstrual cramps like an earth shattering orgasm.  He knew that if stopping my cramps was the only way to stop the pain in his balls…well, you get the picture.

     I can still see his blood covered face peeking up at me from between my legs, licking his lips while he jacked off.  Scooping blood from my twat to use as lubricant, he would bloody his cock and balls until he was on the verge of cumming, and then ram himself inside of me.  

     I could go into more detail, but you’ll have to call me for that.  =)

I’ve always been a girl with unusual tastes, thoughts and desires. 

 It seemed like I was constantly horny from about the age of 6.  I used to masturbate by sliding my clown-doll’s soft, plush hand into my panties and grinding on it until I was whimpering with delight.  About the time I started junior high I graduated to slipping half of a pantyhose egg between my legs and grinding my hips while lying on my stomach.  If I put the rounded end just to the right of my clit and undulated in just the right way I could cum three times in about 10 minutes or so.  My whole world came crashing down when they stopped selling cheap pantyhose in little plastic eggs, lol.

Got a call.  When I come back I’ll tell you about when I found my sister’s vibrator.

Welcome to my brand new blog.  My name is Renata and I’m looking forward to sharing my twisted thoughts and fantasies with you, and hearing all about yours.  Stay tuned!