DiFatale in topic Sadistic Females
I remember balking at My husband’s news that we were moving to Paraguay. A million vexing questions! Where would I get a decent pedicure…massage…who would I lunch with? Would I be alone countless hours as he settled into his new responsibilities?
Then he smiled, looked into My eyes and whispered…
“But my Darling…its practically ‘third world’. I’ll have no problem 'acquiring’ a steady flow of 'playthings’ for your…hobby?”
Well he definitely had My attention. Living in the States posed all manner of obstacles for a Lady of My particular tastes and passions. This was the upside I was desperately searching for. A near endless supply of lost souls that nobody cares about. Nobody’s looking for. And an anxious and corrupt system more than happy to be bribed to look the other way!
Sooo…here I sit. Awaiting yet another 'interview’. Yes…thats what we call them. My husband’s VERY discreet contact sends over a few to select from. They think they’re interviewing to be My personal assistant. So delightfully naive.
I prefer them to be attractive. Nice figure. And reasonably coherent…although the drugs have usually taken their toll by the time they get to Me.
No real special skills required. Just TRY to stay alive three or four days and survive the beatings and torture. At least until My sadistic needs have been satisfied.
Of course, they have no clue. They think they’ve hit the jackpot. Their 'golden ticket’ out of their life of drugs and prostitution. Hahahaha….ohhhh the look of bewilderment on their dirty little faces the first time I slap them to the ground, kick them in the face ten or a dozen times and have them drug away and 'prepped’ for Me.
The good ones can last through four or five 'parties’ with Me over the course of three days. Lots of screaming, begging, pleading. All the things I adore! The others? Ohhhh, they just shut down and sob and tremble. It’s over and done inside a day. We’ll demand…and receive…a discount. We’re VERY good customers.
Now My husband asks…
“Everything alright now my love?”
“Oh yes! I’m so happy. Deliriously happy!”
Hahahahaha…
Then he smiled, looked into My eyes and whispered…
“But my Darling…its practically ‘third world’. I’ll have no problem 'acquiring’ a steady flow of 'playthings’ for your…hobby?”
Well he definitely had My attention. Living in the States posed all manner of obstacles for a Lady of My particular tastes and passions. This was the upside I was desperately searching for. A near endless supply of lost souls that nobody cares about. Nobody’s looking for. And an anxious and corrupt system more than happy to be bribed to look the other way!
Sooo…here I sit. Awaiting yet another 'interview’. Yes…thats what we call them. My husband’s VERY discreet contact sends over a few to select from. They think they’re interviewing to be My personal assistant. So delightfully naive.
I prefer them to be attractive. Nice figure. And reasonably coherent…although the drugs have usually taken their toll by the time they get to Me.
No real special skills required. Just TRY to stay alive three or four days and survive the beatings and torture. At least until My sadistic needs have been satisfied.
Of course, they have no clue. They think they’ve hit the jackpot. Their 'golden ticket’ out of their life of drugs and prostitution. Hahahaha….ohhhh the look of bewilderment on their dirty little faces the first time I slap them to the ground, kick them in the face ten or a dozen times and have them drug away and 'prepped’ for Me.
The good ones can last through four or five 'parties’ with Me over the course of three days. Lots of screaming, begging, pleading. All the things I adore! The others? Ohhhh, they just shut down and sob and tremble. It’s over and done inside a day. We’ll demand…and receive…a discount. We’re VERY good customers.
Now My husband asks…
“Everything alright now my love?”
“Oh yes! I’m so happy. Deliriously happy!”
Hahahahaha…
