Enthralled Beyond My Own Words
Have been reading!!!
"My darling," He whispered as he knelt down to blow out the candle, "I think you are ready for your grand performance."
He had groomed her with obsessive care. the white greasepaint covering her face made it appear as though she were sculpted from purest alabaster. Her blood-red lips and charcoal eyes with the long catapillar lashes were painted with symmetrical perfection. Her chestnut tresses, normally an unruly mane about her head, were tamed into ringlet curls and held in place on either side of her head with blue ribbons. Two rosy suns were painted on her cheeks, and finally, a tiny teardrop was drawn below her right eye as if to mock the tears she could not shed.
Her dress was of the purest white lace, held tight to her waist by a satin corset and on her feet, a brand new pair of ballet points he'd ordered for her from Russia.
She waited in the darkness behind the thick velvet curtain, the barrier between ordinary life and fantasy, though the question of which side is the more real is left to the realm of philosophers. the rope-strings held her as securely as a snare. they were firmly attached to her various limbs and joints, and beneath her costume three strong ropes swept down in a V-shape under her crotch.
The other ends of the strings reached upwards to a giant controller frame high above the stage. It had taken him months to make the contoller, resizing every piece to scale so that her body could be twisted and bent like his puppets in whichever direction he wished. It swung from the roof and could be tilted this way and that so he could work it easily without having to bear her weight. A pulley system could raise it or lower it. He would dictate her every movement through her strings. She could not so much as scratch her nose unless the puppet master deemed it so.
She closed her eyes. She should have been aflutter with the nerves inherent is stage preformance, and yet she sould not remember ever in her life feeling such a deep sense of relaxation. It was as if all her worries and concerns had been lassoed as tightly as her limbs and lifted away from her mind.
It was time. the puppet master, high in the gods, relaxed the ropes to allow her body to gently slump to the floor, motionless, as though she were asleep. In the tiny space between the base of the curtain and the stage boards she could see the houselights dimming and hear the excited babble of the audience fall to an anticipatory hush, as if the theatre itself had sucked the words from their mouths.
Slowly the curtain began to rise. A single spotlight picked out her lifeless from in the centre of the black stage. Gradually the puppet master tilted one end of the giant controller. The rope became taunt and a limp hand was raised high in the air. the marionette was pulled into a sitting position, her curls flopping forward over her bowed head. The strings were pulled again and the ones supporting her crotch lifted her until she stood on highest tiptoe. Her head was raised upright so she could stare, with a rigid beauty, at the audience.
The puppet master hoisted her arms into fifth ballet pasition above her head, and then her leg was slowly lifted until it was just as high and she balance on one foot. She wobbled for a second but the halter beneath her groin ensured she would nat fall. She felt completely safe, as though a giant hand held her in its palm-----
Author- Rosaleen Young
Book: Fantasies of a Young Submissive
This is the only exerpt I could serious put here. Other chapters had Other Fantasies that were very enthralling but to grapic to put up for everyones eyes. I jsut love the surrealness here<>. I guess it just takes my fantasies of being a submissive to new and entirely exquiste levels of enthrallments. I think I will stop with this..If you want to read it the boook and author are above. its a good and well written book on this idea of a submissive/slave fantasies.
"My darling," He whispered as he knelt down to blow out the candle, "I think you are ready for your grand performance."
He had groomed her with obsessive care. the white greasepaint covering her face made it appear as though she were sculpted from purest alabaster. Her blood-red lips and charcoal eyes with the long catapillar lashes were painted with symmetrical perfection. Her chestnut tresses, normally an unruly mane about her head, were tamed into ringlet curls and held in place on either side of her head with blue ribbons. Two rosy suns were painted on her cheeks, and finally, a tiny teardrop was drawn below her right eye as if to mock the tears she could not shed.
Her dress was of the purest white lace, held tight to her waist by a satin corset and on her feet, a brand new pair of ballet points he'd ordered for her from Russia.
She waited in the darkness behind the thick velvet curtain, the barrier between ordinary life and fantasy, though the question of which side is the more real is left to the realm of philosophers. the rope-strings held her as securely as a snare. they were firmly attached to her various limbs and joints, and beneath her costume three strong ropes swept down in a V-shape under her crotch.
The other ends of the strings reached upwards to a giant controller frame high above the stage. It had taken him months to make the contoller, resizing every piece to scale so that her body could be twisted and bent like his puppets in whichever direction he wished. It swung from the roof and could be tilted this way and that so he could work it easily without having to bear her weight. A pulley system could raise it or lower it. He would dictate her every movement through her strings. She could not so much as scratch her nose unless the puppet master deemed it so.
She closed her eyes. She should have been aflutter with the nerves inherent is stage preformance, and yet she sould not remember ever in her life feeling such a deep sense of relaxation. It was as if all her worries and concerns had been lassoed as tightly as her limbs and lifted away from her mind.
It was time. the puppet master, high in the gods, relaxed the ropes to allow her body to gently slump to the floor, motionless, as though she were asleep. In the tiny space between the base of the curtain and the stage boards she could see the houselights dimming and hear the excited babble of the audience fall to an anticipatory hush, as if the theatre itself had sucked the words from their mouths.
Slowly the curtain began to rise. A single spotlight picked out her lifeless from in the centre of the black stage. Gradually the puppet master tilted one end of the giant controller. The rope became taunt and a limp hand was raised high in the air. the marionette was pulled into a sitting position, her curls flopping forward over her bowed head. The strings were pulled again and the ones supporting her crotch lifted her until she stood on highest tiptoe. Her head was raised upright so she could stare, with a rigid beauty, at the audience.
The puppet master hoisted her arms into fifth ballet pasition above her head, and then her leg was slowly lifted until it was just as high and she balance on one foot. She wobbled for a second but the halter beneath her groin ensured she would nat fall. She felt completely safe, as though a giant hand held her in its palm-----
Author- Rosaleen Young
Book: Fantasies of a Young Submissive
This is the only exerpt I could serious put here. Other chapters had Other Fantasies that were very enthralling but to grapic to put up for everyones eyes. I jsut love the surrealness here<>. I guess it just takes my fantasies of being a submissive to new and entirely exquiste levels of enthrallments. I think I will stop with this..If you want to read it the boook and author are above. its a good and well written book on this idea of a submissive/slave fantasies.