tracycloud

[tracycloud]

[tracycloud]

Confession

I have to confess that I am a submissive, horny slut who is begging here on this blog to be humiliated and kept under cum control

[tracycloud]

Milo Manara

[tracycloud]

[tracycloud]

[tracycloud]

LOST IN SUBMISSION (part 2)

I beg her: "But I can't go to the door like this...."

"Would you rather have a few more spectators here in the shop, my little whore? Would you like that?"

"Get on your knees right now, slut," her icy voice orders. "Slide towards me!"

I'm clumsy and my knees hurt a little.

"Lie on your back, spread your legs and open your slut mouth."

Obediently and as if in a trance, I do what she says. She stands directly over my face with her legs spread, bends her face slightly forward and her saliva drips from her mouth directly into mine.

No one has ever spit in my mouth before. I feel dirty and exposed. While she humiliates me with her saliva, I stare at the contours of her vulva in the tight shorts and get incredibly hot and wet as her saliva mixes with mine and runs out of my mouth.

I suddenly feel a bare foot rubbing against my middle and moan. "My little slut seems to like all of this." I hear her mocking voice, feel her toe rubbing against my wet entrance and then she sits back on her chair.

"Now crawl on all fours with your legs spread to the door, then stand up and lock it! It doesn't matter who sees you. UNDERSTAND, SLUT?"

It is an incredibly humiliating feeling to crawl naked on the floor with my legs spread wide. I am wide open and exposed to her gaze, I feel subjugated and used and I know that she sees and enjoys my wet, open horniness.

An hour ago I was a customer who just wanted a few passport photos and now I'm just a submissive slut who wants nothing more than to become the submissive bitch of this beautiful dominant photographer and to do everything, everything, everything she wants from me as long as she humiliates, insults and tortures me and makes me her slut.

"Hurry up, slut" she orders. "You'll get a reward if you manage to lie on the floor in front of me again in 2 minutes. And spread your legs, I want to see your open slit."

I crawl frantically to the door, stand up and hang the "Closed" sign on the glass shop door. Anyone could stare at me from outside now, the people walking to the bus stop or my apartment neighbors and the hard nipples of my naked breasts, red from the heat and covered in sweat, or the dripping vulva between my spread legs or my eyes, in which the pleasure of my humiliation is reflected, and that is exactly how I see myself reflected in the glass shop door.

But I don't have time to think about it.

I have to crawl back to my wonderful new goddess and owner and be rewarded by her.

Maybe she'll spit on me again or slap my breasts with her hands or maybe I can lick her feet?

I've made it, now I'm lying in front of her again on the old parquet floor, my legs spread wide, my arms at my side. I'm sweating and panting. My breasts are on the wood of the parquet, my nipples hurt a little, no matter. I enjoy this slight pain and also the feeling that she can see directly between my legs, into my red, pulsating, wet, open middle.

"You did that well, my little slut. You can kneel in front of me and enjoy my reward."

I kneel in front of her as quickly as I can, my breasts and nipples are red and her beautiful bare feet with the bright red painted toenails play with them, lift them up, then they are in my face, the soles of her feet slap me.

I watch her strong, slender hands, which are now slowly unbuttoning her shorts, I see her pushing her beautiful, transparent, light blue lace panties down a little and between a delicate, curly blond plume of hair I see the most beautiful and desirable vulva in the whole world with slightly open, moist, shiny lips.

My new goddess notices my longing, horny look: "Ohhh, you are just an incredibly horny piece of submissive filth. Open your mouth immediately and stick out your tongue, you little slut."

My mouth is wide open and my tongue is hanging out. Saliva slowly starts to run down my chin to the right and left and drip onto my breasts.

Next to my goddess is a small plate of chocolate biscuits. She takes one, rubs it on her wet vulva and then slowly puts the wet, shiny biscuit into my open mouth. It tastes sweet of chocolate and above it I feel its own, slightly bitter-sweet taste on my tongue, like dry champagne without bubbles.

"There you have your reward, my little submissive slut. Maybe later I'll even allow you to lick the chocolate taste off me. But only if you prove that you want to become my unconditionally submissive property.

I don't dare close my mouth. The chocolate, the whole cookie, slowly dissolves in my mouth. The chocolate mush slowly drips out of my mouth and I nod my head and throw myself at her feet and kiss her.

The feet of my new goddess are like everything about her, so powerful and yet tender and beautiful. I feel her toes on my mouth and of course I open it for her immediately.

But not quickly and wide enough, because she increases the pressure. I open my mouth as wide as I can and feel her toes slowly conquering my mouth and filling it up to my throat. I gasp and moan a little, in response her foot presses itself even deeper into my mouth. I almost panic and can't breathe anymore when I feel her foot withdraw briefly. I can take a deep breath.

Then the foot moves deeper into my mouth again, back and forth regularly and I feel: the goddess is fucking my mouth. I gasp, my spit flows, I feel totally degraded, I'm just an open, wet mouth in a body that twitches naked on the parquet for the goddess's pleasure. And I'm so unbelievably horny and wet and feel how fulfilling and happy it makes me to be degraded and used by this divine woman.

I've just gotten used to being used as a submissive mouth fuck hole for her foot with the beautiful straight and strong toes that are now giving me so much unbelievable submissive pleasure, when she pulls her foot, which must be wet and dripping with my spit, out of my mouth.

Then I feel her hands on my head, pulling me up until I'm on my knees in front of her and she's looking at me. My head is red from the heat, from the effort of getting some air and licking the toes of the goddess that she was just moving in and out of my mouth.

The saliva is dripping from my mouth, has smeared my make-up and is now dripping onto my breasts, which have the pattern of the parquet floor imprinted on them.

I don't know if she still has to read the total submission and greed for even more humiliation in my eyes, because she has known it since I entered her shop and greedily stared at her divine breasts in the beautiful light blue lace bra.

I see the small birthmark next to her nose and realize that it is not as cute as I thought, it is her message to me, from the world of self-confident and free witches and the sign of her total independence and desire for sex and dominant rule.

Kneeling in front of her was like another fulfillment of my submissive desire. Her shorts are still unbuttoned and her lace-trimmed light blue panties are pushed to the side.

"You are allowed to lick me now, slut. But I still have a lot planned for you today, so lick me gently and don't make me tired. If you can do that, you might be able to become my personal licking bitch."

The sound of her voice is businesslike, almost as if she were talking about test driving a car, but her words make my submissive soul tremble.

I slowly move my head to her center, to the slightly curly, blonde plum hair with the moist, shimmering vulva, the slightly open, rosy-red labia and her divine juices, which I was now allowed to taste and drink. Her two hands now clasp my head with her open mouth and her tongue stretched out, pressing it ever harder onto her soaking wet vulva.

My tongue carefully licks and kisses, feels her clit, makes my goddess moan, her juices bubble into my mouth, I drink with the greed of someone dying of thirst.

The firm grip of her hands guides my head away from her wet, pulsating center. I suck air deeply and sobbing into my lungs.

Her voice is soft now:

"You did very well, my wonderful little slut. You belong to me now."

My face is wet from her delicious juice, which is slowly dripping onto my tits. I feel the wetness from my own glowing vulva slowly running down my thighs.

It has never been so intense. Never so incredibly hot and so incredibly fulfilling to be humiliated by a woman and totally used for her pleasure. I always want to kneel here in front of her, worship her vulva, be her slave, be humiliated and used by her.

I can see in her eyes that she has recognized this exactly. She has seen it in my submissive soul and in my submissive eyes.

Now she smiles at me. "Didn't you actually want application photos of yourself? I think now is the perfect time for that."

Suddenly her voice becomes stern and ice cold again: "Come on, get up and put on your dress, slut."

Obediently, I immediately stand upright. She now examines my sweaty body, my face and my breasts, which are smeared with chocolate and biscuits, with my spit and her juices.

She watches how it runs down between my legs as if there were a wet sponge between them.

I feel like I'm senseless, totally at the mercy of this gaze. I'm becoming her submissive, humble, total property of pleasure. I'm ashamed to let myself be used like this. But I don't care at all, because I long so much for more humiliation and her strictness.

I take a step towards my clothes, which are lying on the floor.

"May I have a quick shower first?" My voice is quiet, humble, begging.

Her voice sounds amused:

"You're really sweet. Why do you want to take a shower? These photos are for the application documents as my new slut. Be glad that I allow you to put on your dress."

I nod submissively and reach for my bra. "From now on, you don't need anything like that at all. You belong to me now and I don't want a bra between my hands and my property."

She looks very deeply into my eyes now. Her voice is pure magic and suddenly I have goosebumps all over my body: "I allow you to call me GODDESS. And that's how you will address me always and everywhere. No matter where we are and who is listening. Do you understand that, slut?"

"YEEESSSSS, GODDESS," I say first quietly, with a voice trembling with submissive desire and then screaming with a spontaneous, unbelievable feeling of happiness that surprises even me.

I climb into my polka dot summer dress with wobbly legs and slowly pull it up. Dark, damp spots form everywhere in the fabric, especially on the top. You can clearly see my stiff, protruding nipples under the top, which is slowly soaking up the greasy chocolate cookie residue, my sweat and my spit.

"That looks good, slut," says my goddess ironically. "But we should make more of an effort for your application photos."

Her command comes hard and cold: "Spread your legs, slut, take your skirt, rub it over your wet cunt until it is as wet as you are."

I can't help it, I stand in front of the goddess with my legs spread. With shaking hands I try to soak up as much of my own wetness as possible, which I can feel on my hand through the fabric. The rubbing between my open labia makes me moan with lust again and again. I now completely surrender to my own humble lust and my goddess has meanwhile gone to her camera and started taking pictures.

She photographs my face, covered in sweat and the juices of my goddess, my mouth smeared with chocolate and spit, my breasts under the wet, stained dress, my incredibly hard nipples that almost hurt with lust, and the wet, shiny skirt that makes my wet center even more visible.

"Come on, lift up your skirt. Whore. Spread your legs. Show me your cunt." I'm like in a trance. Only her voice is in my head. And my total submissiveness. Her camera records everything about me.

There are no more secrets from my goddess.

No shame. Only the longing for humiliation and submission.

[tracycloud]

LOST IN SUBMISSION (part 1)

The photo studio has just opened.

It's located not very far from my apartment. I need new passport photos.

I hate pics from a photo booth. Feel that look like my own mother in this photos. Tell me – any daughter wants that!?!

The studio was once a small toy store, probably 15 years ago. The dolls decorated between the pretty fancy photos in the shop window were probably “left overs” from that time. They reminded me of the dolls of my childhood, my mother had maybe even bought it here.

The photographer greets me with casual friendliness. “Hey, nice that you’re here. My name is Roberta."

“Hi, I’m Tracy.”

There's no one in the store except us.

Roberta is definitely not a doll and not childlike either. She is beautiful in her own special way, as if she had chosen her beauty and her body herself and didn't let any, possibly male, chromosome dictate anything to her.

There is nothing doll-like or decorous or childlike in her expressive, oval face with dark, curious and self-confident eyes, her slightly parted, curved lips and a nose that gives her face this admirable contour.

The small birthmark right next to Roberta's nose is like a message from her own continent, the continent of confident and free witches.

But I just find it sweet and adorable, like everything about her.

Roberta's voice has a very confident tone and somehow I also hear a hidden severity that immediately makes me think of submission.

I just can't do anything about it, a little horny shiver immediately runs through my submissive soul and causes goosebumps.

Of course, she sees it. “It's pretty cool in here, especially after the heat outside,” says her voice, which I've basically listened to now, with a slightly ironic sound.

It's really a hot summer. She is wearing a casual, blue-striped, short-sleeved shirt. Her arms are covered with almost invisible blonde hairs that make me think about sex again. The top buttons are all undone and I stare perhaps a little too long at her boobs in the sheer light blue lace bra.

Of course she doesn't miss that peep. She stares back, first at my boobs, which immediately want to nestle in her hands and then deep into my eyes and from there directly into my submissive soul. I know that if she wants, I'm her property, and she knows it too.

“Do you live around here?”

Before I can answer, Roberta asks further:

“You need passport photos? Or some pics for an application?”

The question is pretty obvious, because of my subtle make-up and  wearing my serious-looking blue polka dot summer dress.

I'm about to explain to her that I hate pics from photo booth and that I'm here because her store is just a few blocks away from my apartment, but I can't get around to saying anything.

“Sit down there!” says her stern voice.

With a wave of her slender, strong hand, she points to a large, somewhat old-fashioned-looking chair and then goes to her camera.

I obediently  sit.

"Sit straight! The face to the camera! More to the left! Now a little more to the right!”

I try to follow her instructions, but somehow I can never get the head position right. Her voice doesn't get louder, but it gets more stern and impatient with my stupidity. I feel at the mercy of this ruthless voice.

Finally she stands behind me, takes my face between her hands to turn it into the correct position.  From one second to the next it's dominance and submission.

Her touch is gentle at first, but strong and powerful. I feel her breath in my hair, her hands move my head back and forth as if it were her property.

It's like one of my hot dreams. Like in a trance, I kiss the finger that is suddenly on my lips. I also kiss her second and third, which move caressingly between my now open lips and slowly and purposefully penetrate deeper into my mouth.

“You horny bitch,” she whispers and pushes her tongue into my ear.

Her other hand is right in my cleavage, in my bra, I moan as her fingers lightly squeeze my nipples.

Suddenly both hands are gone, from my mouth, from my boobs.

“Get up, bitch. Undress yourself. I want to check out my new property”.

Her voice is now colder than ice.

I immediately stand up, pull my dress over my head. My breasts are already hanging out of the slipped bra, she can see my incredibly hard nipples and the wet spot on my panties.

Roberta has sat down on the chair and is watching my moves.

“Go ahead, slap your tits hard.” I can't help myself and immediately slap my boobs with both palms until they turn bright red.

“Ohh, you really are a submissive little slut. Now go to the shop door and lock it.”

I beg her: “But I can’t get to the door like this…..”

[tracycloud]

[tracycloud]

Happy horny New Year

[tracycloud]

HAPPY NEW YEAR

♡♡ a dumb, drooly puppy ♡♡

[tracycloud]

[tracycloud]

Drawer in the morning

[tracycloud]

[tracycloud]

[tracycloud]

Oh, don't worry, even empty little brains can be trained to follow directions. It's just the big thoughts that are hard.

And if needed, they can start taking away your access to all those bad things that you might be able to do accidentally. If they tell you not to touch yourself without permission, a chastity belt would do the trick nicely, or maybe just tying you up entirely if they don't need you up and around doing other things.

If they tell you that you're only allowed out without them if you have a plug in you, because they know you get distracted when you're all empty and aching, they can lock that plug inside of you so you can't take it out by accident.

Doesn't that sound like it would make your life easier, princess?

-🌹

Yes, that would make life a lot easier, I wouldn’t have to think for myself one bit mommy. Day by day I’d be turned into just a brainless mess, until the only thing I know is what you want me to know. I don’t need access to my holes, they belong to you, not me🥺

[tracycloud]

COOKING FOR ROBERTA (Part 4)

A few weeks after Roberta's birthday, I was in the kitchen of Café Ravenna. It was early in the morning. For the first time, I cooked a ragu of wild boar, mushrooms and herbs, braised in a rich red Colli Bolognesi. Naturally, it was a recipe from Erika. She had entrusted it to me with the promise never to reveal the details of the recipe to anyone.

The mushrooms were not permitted to be rinsed, but had to be brushed individually, the herbs chopped in a certain way, the meat cut into equal-sized cubes (I was even allowed to use Erika's personal knife in the meantime) and then rubbed with a secret seasoning mixture.

Giovanni called through the open kitchen door. “Hey, Cuoca, here's an American ragazza who's desperate for a job. Says she's an artist. Like you.”

I was frantic. It was the dish for lunch, nothing was to be allowed to go wrong. I wasn't in the mood for job interviews with some crazy artist girls. 

I was about to shout just that to Giovanni when a young woman in her very early 20s, maybe 150 cm tall, with short brown hair and a few wild orange color explosions in it, stuck her head into the kitchen and said “Hey, I'm Ava and I'm looking for a job” with a pretty sweet American sound.

Of course I couldn't resist looking at her very tight tank top, under which pretty, rather small breasts were clearly visible. “Ohhh, almost like mine,” I thought immediately.

She had a clever, somewhat mischievous look and a cheeky twinkle in her eye. I love old Hollywood movies and immediately thought of Ava Gardners eyes in the sensational movie “Pandora and the Flying Dutchman”.

But above all, I thought of all the unbrushed mushrooms and the time ticking away until lunchtime. “Do you have any experience?  In gastronomy or cooking, I mean, of course.” 

“Sure, I sometimes helped my mother in the kitchen. And I was sometimes permitted to make baked cheese... and crepes for dessert,” she said without batting an eyelid.  Okay. At least she had been in a kitchen before.

I sighed: “Okay, we'll do a test run. Go and wash your hands, the kitchen aprons are in the cupboard back there. And hurry up”!!!

Ava was really quick, just nodded briefly, did what I told her, then stood next to me, waiting eagerly for instructions.

I showed her how to use a special brush to clean the vast quantities of earthy mushrooms that Erika had foraged in the forest this morning.

I began to prepare the wild boar meat, occasionally checking that Ava was working carefully, giving instructions that she followed wordlessly and with a smile.

I can be strict and authoritarian in the kitchen.  She seemed to like that. In fact, I saw a longing in her eyes that I knew very well in myself.

I thought to myself: "Why on earth did my new kitchen help have to be a young submissive brat?"

I would have no choice but to introduce her to Roberta.

In a kitchen, especially one as cramped as the Ravenna, you can't avoid bumping into each other from time to time. Ava seemed to enjoy it. After a while, her cute little ass seemed to randomly bump into mine whenever I had to push past her. She was testing me out.

The cool morning slowly turned into a warm autumn day. The meat was roasting in the large iron pan and lardo, the fatty Italian pork bacon, was sizzling in the huge cast-iron cooking pot.  Soon the mushrooms would be added for frying. It was getting really hot in the kitchen.

Little beads of sweat were already glistening on Ava's forehead. Her tight, white tank top was forming larger, damp patches. It looked pretty seductive. She caught me staring at her and grinned. I threw her a kitchen towel so she could wipe the sweat off her face.

Finally, all the ingredients were in the big pot and slowly simmering in the red Colli Bolognesi wine.

Ava and I stood by the open window, but there was little cool air coming in. “You worked quickly and quite carefully,” I praised Ava. “You can start here tomorrow for all I care. As kitchen help. Papers, money and stuff, you'll have to sort that out with Giovanni up front.”

I had expected a “Thank you, great” or something similar, but not that Ava would start crying with joy. I spontaneously hugged her. She whispered in my ear with her cute US accent: “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Now I don't have to beg my parents for money. They want me to come back. Do something useful. Not breadless art.”

That sounded pretty familiar. I squeezed her even tighter. Today I was wearing my new, swanky “Grand Chef Lady” chef's jacket, which I bought from my first salary as second chef (after Erika, of course).

But nothing underneath.

I felt our boobs pressed tightly together.

I sensed her warmth, her stiff nipples, the slight smell of her fresh feminine sweat, which I impulsively and audibly sucked in deeply.

Ava reacted to this with her tongue, which she suddenly stuck in my ear. I automatically placed my hands on her beautiful buttocks and stroked them. Ava pushed her right knee between my thighs, which opened automatically and gave her access to my already wet pussy under the linen fabric of my blue checked chef's trousers.

I felt her knee pressing harder and harder against my wet center, I moaned and rubbed myself against her thigh. I don't know how she managed to get her hands under my chef's jacket. I felt her fingers caressing my nipples and making them even stiffer. Then suddenly she was massaging my boobs, pinching my nipples between two of her fingers, squeezing hard. I moaned louder and rubbed myself harder against her knee.

“Ohhh, you seem really submissive and maybe a bit horny for pain?” she whispered in my ear. “Me too.”

In my nose, her intense smell of sweat and pussy mingled with the unfolding scent of the ragu, which was simmering quietly on a low flame.

“Ohhh... my hot little chef. You made me so horny earlier with your strict manner, your instructions. I dreamt of being humiliated by you. Please, please, do it. Hurt me, humiliate me. Make me cum.”

Her breath was hot on my ear, her hands now gently caressing my boobs. “Then we'll switch.  That's what you want, isn't it?”.

Ava suddenly squeezed my nipples hard and I moaned: “YAAAA”.

Ava grinned diabolically.  “NO, we'll do it the other way around.”

She squeezed even harder. First came the pain, then it turned into lust and devotion. Ava tongued from my ear to my slightly open mouth. Her tongue penetrated and took possession of my mouth. Her tongue was everywhere. I could hardly breathe, our saliva flowed together, dripping onto my fancy chef's jacket.

Her left hand suddenly slipped into my pants and was immediately firmly on my pussy, squeezing her hard and short. Without Avas tongue in my mouth, I would have cried out. As it was, I could only gasp.

I felt her fingers between my wet pussy lips and then how she suddenly penetrated me deeply with two or three fingers, quickly and expertly finding my sweet spot.

My pelvis was now moving rhythmically against her rubbing fingers. Suddenly this hot wave rolled over me, my whole body exploded, twitched, trembled, my legs went weak. For seconds I was paralyzed.

When I opened my eyes again, Ava was smiling at me. “Wow, you're just so incredibly cum. And so incredibly submissive. I've never experienced it like I did with you just now”. She stroked my hair. “Come on, sit down. You look a bit wobbly” .

The ragout simmered quietly on the nearby stove. Ava took off the heavy cast-iron lid. “Wow, baby, how that smells. So awesome. Can I have a taste?” How could I refuse when she had just given me an incredible orgasm?

Ava tasted the hot sauce with a spoon instead of a flat plate and naturally burnt her tongue. But she still liked the taste. “ Fantastic. You cook like a champ. Here, have a taste”.

She held the spoon to my mouth. Luckily it wasn't that hot anymore. The ragu wasn't cooked yet, but I knew it would be good. And thanks to Ava, I had been quicker than I thought. I praised her for her good job cleaning the mushrooms.

Suddenly she was sitting on my lap. Her mouth was at my ear again, whispering: “Please reward me! Touch me! Hurt me! NOW! “ Her voice was now demanding, authoritative. She pressed my hand onto her boobs. I obeyed. Squeezed her nipples. Hard. She moaned. Her tongue was deep in my ear again. I felt my own wetness, lust and lust flooded me, I kissed and bit into her soft neck, my hands slid to her center. I felt her heat and wetness through the fabric of her jeans. My hand pressed against her vulva. She pressed against it just as hard, rubbing wildly against my hand, trembling violently, her whole body twitching convulsively, an inarticulate scream right by my ear, she was clinging to me, sinking into the hot waves of her cum as they crashed over her.

[tracycloud]