Friday, October 31, 2014

Life in the pre-Story of O period

Really not very hot. Very few boyfriends; no penetration until late senior year. Lots of reading, lots of self-abuse.

The narrative mechanics of fantasy-Emily's life in EXPLORATIONS shorten this period to a few months: my conceit there is that fantasy-Emily was an anal-submissive powder-keg that finally went off a few months before her wedding to fantasy-Charles; that she'd had the fantasies, and masturbated to them, but that she had never come across erotic material (ha!) until she caught her first glimpse of a lace thong in a Victoria's Secret window. That thong produced, for fantasy-Emily, I elaborate in Emily's First Submission, a sort of pornographic cascade effect.

Here--I'll let her tell you in her own words.
I don't know how I managed to avoid seeing things like my bridal panties until I was 18; all I know is that suddenly the world seemed to be full of all these pictures, and pieces of clothing, and websites, and books that corresponded to the shameful things I'd imagined in my bed at night and sometimes (for I'd been told that touching myself was wicked) couldn't resist playing with my young, virginal pussy while I thought about, and even putting a hand under my bottom and touching my bottomhole. 
After the thong came the porn: lots of it. And then, finally, Story of O. I had thrown all the moral lessons of my first eighteen years to the wind; I was masturbating anally four or five times a day or more; I ordered a butt-plug; I seduced my best friend and shaved her pussy; and that's how I got into the shameful situation in which you see me at the start of Emily's Submissive Wedding Night, abusing myself in the bathroom of my honeymoon suite when I should have been going to please my bridegroom. Thank goodness for Charles and his dominance and willingness to discipline me!
Not strictly believable, I suppose, but given that so many of my D/s fantasies revolve around innocence, and there's so little innocence left in the world today, it works for me.

This (high-school and most of college) was the epoch when the terrible books, as I think of them, the ones like Aphrodizzia, dominated my fantasy-life. So, as a passage in one of those books literally (I'm pretty sure) reads, "Bottom, bottom, bottom, bottom" (if I recall correctly, some authority figure is landing cuts of a cane on, you guessed it, a schoolgirl bottom).

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