LETTER FROM HARTFORD
Dear Shoeblossom:
Miguel awaits me, as he and his assistants prepare the cocaine with baking soda. Mig gives orders mostly, and the fellows chop and mix the drugs, and suddenly, there I am in my snug little Hello Kitty top and cargo pants. I’ve been out shopping with Miguel’s Platinum Visa, and I grin at him loopily.
“Remy, honey how are you?” Mig smiles at me. His partner, JaVaughn is always amazed at how respectful and worshipful Mig seems around me. As one of the biggest drug suppliers in Connecticut, Mig has had his share of women, and kicked more than a few of them around…but as JaVaughn comments, I might be the girl “fo’ keeps”.
“Come into the other room, baby” I say, with a false giggle. “I got you something.” And Miguel comes, signaling to his men to continue their work. Mig is good at what he does, and he gets a real kick out of doing it well.
When I first met Miguel, he had naked girls doing the work, because nude, they couldn’t steal anything, but I made him switch to guys, and I insisted he have a bit of trust…so they wear clothes now!
When we got into the other room, Miguel looks at me pleadingly. I snap my fingers and my face turns coldly impassive. Mig undresses, and kneels on a stool, putting his hands behind his head.
His dick is locked in a metal tube, and he knows that if he wants me to run my long French manicure up and down it (there is no hope of orgasm today) he must suck up, and suck up good.
“D-did you have a good shopping trip, Remy?” Mig asks, as I shake a few diamond bracelets (yes, I said a few) out on the table. “You look like you got neat stuff.”
“Oh, shut up, Mig, you simpering idiot.” I snap. I fetch my cane from the table and walk over and whack him hard across the nipples, and tears come to his eyes. Big, tough, drug dealer. Though you know, at least he didn’t remove his hands from behind his head!
Then I unlock his pitiful chastity tube and begin stroking Miguel and telling him how much I want to fuck the young men in the street, or how I did fuck one or two.
“Yup, took the kid who carried my bags from Stop N Shop into the backseat and blew him, Miguel. It was lots of fun. His dick was bigger than yours—I could see it without a microscope!”
“Remy, please, don’t be so mean to me, ma’am.” Migs pleads. But you know he loves it.
My father, an alcoholic physician ironically employed at the famous Institute for Living, here in Connecticut, named me after his favorite drink, Remy-Martin. .
I have long light brown hair, and perky breasts, and long legs (I understand that sort of detail is important to your readers) and I’m a drug dealer’s moll. Miguel is a tough, violent, very successful dealer, too. How he became a submissive is a mystery.
And of course it’s a big secret. I can write about it here, because I don’t think most people in our um, field in Hartford, Connecticut read your letters, Shoeblossom. And I muse about the level of submission that my boyfriend, slave, and soon to be husband is at.
I’ve seen him kick the shit out of rival pushers, or out of one of his menials because the guy was selling to young kids, and yes, Miguel is a tough guy, and after two prison sentences with lotsa weightlifting, he is really strong.
I weigh about 110 soaking wet, and I command him quite easily. Mig used to fuck 20 different girls a day, and now I have him bound and when he’s lucky I unlock his chastity tube and toy with his swelling, desperate erection for hours!
This is a man who can get nearly any request granted, but not from me. I love tickling his frenum and pulling his foreskin, while he struggles against the ropes that secure his hands behind his back.
Mig tries desperately to get me to let him spurt, but I never do—sometimes when he’s really close to cumming, I’ll tie a firecracker to his dick, or just hit it with a little Icy Hot. Watching him tear up when going through an excruciating experience like this is rather hilarious!
Then I like to rub my boobs against his dick. They aren’t huge, but they’re shaped right, and quite soft…Mig’s dick gets bigger and bigger, and I rub softly and then pull my narrow little body away just as he is about to release!
The big thing that Mig is terrified of people knowing is how cruel his homophobic father was. The guy apparently had some kind of complex because his wife had left him for another man, and so he raised Miguel and his siblings alone, and spent a lot of time telling Mig what a worthless little runt he was…Mig has become big and tough and no one talks to him that way anymore, except for little old ME.
“Tell me you’re my faggot, tell me you’re a maricon, Miguel” I tease, knowing that saying such a thing will torture his macho soul forever. Or I turn him over, still bound and whip his bare ass with a thick leather belt, reminding him of how his Daddy used to beat him.
“Daddy gave it to you because you weren’t manly enough, queer.” I say in a singsong voice as the thick leather welts his handsome brown Mexican skin. “You’re just a worthless little girl…your daddy made you that way.”
Apparently, Miguel’s father, to impress upon his son that he must be macho, would send Mig to school back in Guadalajara wearing a little pink nightgown, and for a boy of eight in a tough neighborhood, this got him in a lot of fights!
So I sometimes make Mig strip off his tight black jeans and his muscle shirts and all the medallions, and the engineer’s boots, and make him parade around in a pink nightie and a pair of panties. It’s quite hilarious, and it brings him back to the nightmare of his childhood.
And when he looks at me through tear streaked eyes as he minces back and forth as I play “Itsy Bitsy Spider” or a “My Little Pony” video, I taunt him. “You don’t want to fuck me, you’re just a little girl who wants to lick a boy’s dick, aren’t you, Miguelita?”
And then I take my buggy whip (an antique that I made Migs pay about $800 for) and I stalk up in my tight top and short-shorts, and I RIP off his nightie and his panties and whip him and make him DANCE as the lashes crack across his thighs and his hard cock.
“Faggot, pansy, worthless little bitch” I chant as the buggy whip lashes crisscross his skin until Mig is sobbing and crying. “You’ll NEVER get to fuck me. I’d rather fuck your lowest employee or even the crack heads that beg for your rock then let you put your dick anywhere NEAR ME.”
I force Mig onto his knees, and I get a huge dildo and I RAM it into him. When Mig was a boy, his five older brothers would beat him up and sodomize him, and his mother would tell him “They love you, they just are teasing.” His poor butt hole, filled with blood and his brother’s semen because they love him?
But I ram it down his rectum also…and then make him lick the blood and shit off it, threatening to make him suck some nigger dick on the street to show his true submission…for whatever reason this helped him process his evil childhood.
At the end, of course, I let him take me to the bed and cover my beautiful naked body in kisses and licks, telling me how wonderful I am. I giggle to myself because he groans and moans as he moves about, because I’ve whipped him so hard!
Miguel, for such a brutal person, can be so sweet and gentle with me when he’s worshipping my body. He loves me, thinks I’m hot stuff, and of course it helps a great deal that his cock is denied for such long periods of time.
Five orgasms from Mig’s mouth later, I tie him up, ice down his erection and lock it back in his chastity device, and roll him under the bed to sleep alone, while I seduce some young stud from down the hall to come in and fuck me in every hole! And Miguel is on the hard floor, thinking of how his Remy is having the time of her life!
The young man of course usually is either employed by Mig or terrified of him, and would shit a brick if he knew that Mig was hiding under the bed. But he can’t resist me because I’m so HOT.
In the morning, after such escapades, I pull poor Miguel out, and of course he’s covered in dust bunnies, and he’s all stiff from lying there all night, and some of his bloody welts from the whipping are now infected from the dust.
“Get me my coffee and breakfast, asshole. You wish your dick was big enough to satisfy me, right Mig? Poor Pasquale, who is terrified of you, is a better fuck than you’ll ever be. You have a dick like a Vienna sausage…but of course you know that, right?”
But he cheerfully bathes and massages me, shaves my legs and paints my nails, and tells me I am his PRINCESS. And why not? It’s difficult, because of course his dick is practically going to burst out of the chastity tube.
And then he showers and dresses for his day. And I can spend the day doing blow and hanging out, fucking whoever comes by…
Sometimes I even tell Mig to send me different men to fuck. This is especially difficult for him, as he is not allowed to show his jealousy at all. Wiping out that machismo thing has been a real goal of mine!
I still remember the old days, when I was just one of his “Bitches” and then finding out his interest in female domination. I knew a bit about that kind of stuff, as I had kinky neighbors.
I used to watch this old couple who lived behind me…she would make her husband drop his pants and she’d whip him with a cut-off garden hose in the back yard, and then tie him to a tree!
Once I went over and stroked him off, this 70 year old slave boy, and I snuck off right after he came, so his wife wouldn’t be too cruel to him!
Then in college, I waitressed at one of those bondage retreat deals, and I had to say, there’s nothing funnier than watching a woman make her husband jack off into his coffee to give it “Cream”!
I saw a few of Migs’ magazines, the S&M ones, but I didn’t say anything till he brought it up. But soon thereafter I took over. The fun of tease and denial is just wonderful! I began rubbing all over him and then pushing his hands away, and he would get so upset…but it was amazing how submissive my poor drug dealer could be!
The first time Miguel let me tie him up naked and whip his ass, I was a little afraid he might shoot me afterwards (this is evidence of how much we’ve changed as a couple) and then when I was astounded that he wanted me to put him in chastity…God it was weird.
Initially, we went for two or three day periods of his being in the tube, and he just bitched and moaned constantly about being locked up. But after a while Miguel realized that his darling Remy was doing him a real favor—after all, when you’re constantly focused on sex, how much drug dealing can you get done?
See now, super-hot girls can’t negotiate with Mig anymore. They have to produce cash or nothin’. After all, the only thing he can use on them is his tongue, right?
Miguel must keep it a guarded secret that he is a tranny chastity slave. It’s terribly hush-hush. Sometimes he goes just crazy with jealousy when we go out to one of the clubs that he owns, as he watches me bump and grind in hot dances with rival dealers, many of whom are black.
And I greet every man I meet with a deep tongue kiss, and that is not pleasant for poor Miguel either. But he understands that I have to be me. If he doesn’t understand this, I have a nice frat paddle that makes his butt so cherry red that he’ll understand anything I tell him, dig?
He gets such cruel pleasure out of watching his customers beg and plead for credit, or sometimes when he’ll actually take their money and then screw them over with bad dope.
So I do the same to him! I’ll tell him that if he skips a Super Bowl game to watch the Lifetime channel, I might fuck him, and then I don’t…and when he cries, I laugh hysterically.
Mig is very busy, but when he has time off, I find interesting stuff for us to do.
We go out in his expensive car and travel around the country, going through Connecticut and Jersey…we stop in weird woodsy areas, and I cut a couple of switches and make him bend over a picnic table…and I can break four or five…I have one helluva backhand, you know?
Then once or twice I tied him to the ground, he’s really never been out in the woods, and poured sugar water all over his cock and balls and left him to the ants. This is quite hilarious….Apparently once some fire ants got into a rumble with black ants, or something, and they fought a desperate painful battle right near Migs’ left testicle, and he cried like a little girl, as they accidentally bit him more than a few times.
Think, that bothered him, but the time his lieutenant shot a little girl off her porch during a firefight with the cops, he just laughed. It’s so important to teach compassion, don’t you think?
Once or twice I’ve taken his keys and his clothes when we were skinny dipping and then drove slowly along Highway 93 while he panted naked after me. Everyone thinks that’s hilarious as they’re driving by, truckers honk, etc…and he is so angry, because of course he has murdered people for less!
These damn drug dealers though…ego reduction is crucial, don’t you think?
Sometimes we drive to New York City and I make poor Miguel go out and stand on Eighth Avenue with the male hustlers, telling him if he can make five hundred dollars I might let him orgasm!
It’s fun, watching from our expensive Peugot as Miguel is forced to suck some fag off in the back of the trick’s Nissan Sentra. As if Mig needed the money! But I take Mig’s wallet right before he goes out to trick so I can be sure he’s going to make me real cocksucking money, not the money he brings in from drug dealing.
As a cock sucker, Miguel is not nearly as good at making $$$...
Once I rented poor Mig out as a bondage slave. He is quite good looking, and these faggots loved working him over, twisting his nipples, making him suck cock big time, and running needles through his poor suffering dick. I made the codicil that I get to watch while it all went on, through a one-way mirror. Yowza!
But I had to say, by the time it was over, Mig’s cocksucking and ass-rimming skills were really up to the mark. He loves eating out my ass, but it isn’t much fun to lick shit out of the chubby butt of a hairy fifty-five year old leather clad chemistry professor.
Reducing the ego of a macho Hispanic criminal is quite the adventure! Sometimes I just feel like really fucking with him. Once, for six weeks, I didn’t allow Mig to see me naked at all. Didn’t let him perform orally on me either.
He was always naked when we were around, and I just wore my hot belly shirts, tube tops and shorts, and teased him that “Mommy” wasn’t going to let him see anything “provocative”.
His eyes would fill with tears as I would go into the bathroom and come out in my robe and make him turn away as I rubbed Camay oil on my naked body…one of his more enjoyable chores.
And I’d tell him how much other men were enjoying staring at me. I even told him once that I was considering becoming a stripper, so everyone BUT Miguel could see my gorgeous figure.
Sometimes during this awful period, I would tie a bandanna over Mig’s eyes and secure him naked and really go to town teasing his cock. I think he went nuts trying to check me out from under his blindfold.
I even took him to an orgy and made him kneel in the corner, crying, while I and lots of other pretty girls (that he had hired) fucked geeky, lucky guys…but poor Miggie didn’t get to see a damn thing! He was relieved when, after nearly two months, he was allowed to see and touch and kiss my naked breasts and pussy again.
I am asked by my few friends “in the know” why I am quite so hard on Miguel. Sure, he likes being spanked and tortured a bit, but don’t I go a little too far? Hey…he’s ordered people killed, he is unusually cruel to those who work for him, and once I saw him shoot a dog. He needs a little coming back.
Besides, since I’ve worked Migs over, I think he’s become a bit gentler. I can’t guarantee that, but it seems that it’s so. Certainly I’ve taught him to be more civil. One new rule I’ve made is, he can’t use profanity at all. Imagine! After cursing constantly since he was able to speak, now he can’t use George Carlin’s seven words. Or is that Lenny Bruce’s seven?
His associates chuckle when he gets mad and tells them to stop their “doggoned screwing around” but that’s the rule now! I have gotten Mig to replace “Son of a Bitch” with “Great Scott” like Perry White used to say on the old Superman serials. It’s much prettier.
When Miguel forgets and begins cursing, I make him stand on a stool and write punishment sentences, balancing the sheet of paper against a wall. It’s cruel, but kind. He is really learning not to curse! Sometimes when I have him stand, I make him wear high heels…wicked, wicked me.
I also enjoy making him eat large bars of soap when he begins doing his potty mouth routine. I cane him if he doesn’t eat them fast enough, and it’s really calmed his vocabulary down quite a bit.
I read about cock caning on one of Miguel’s computer sites, and I’ve really enjoyed it. I love stroking his dick on the rare occasions I take it out of his chastity tube. I stroke it and get it real hard, while rubbing my boobs in the tight camisole against Mig’s big chest…and then I SWAT his dick ten or fifteen times until it’s a little red shrinking thing again.
Or, another sport that fascinates me, is cock-kicking. I used to play Women’s Soccer at U-Conn, and sometimes I’ll have Mig lie down and put his penis on a section of wooden dance floor I have in his living room, and then I put my leather boots on and kick his dick until he cums, and then of course I punish him for it! The kicking is like a great sport, if you know what I mean.
Sometimes I’ll get one of his old crack whores, the cuter ones, and have her suck his dick, and tell him that if he cums, the penalty will be dire (and I tell her if she doesn’t make him cum, I’ll cut off her drugs for a month) That usually brings some interesting consequences to the poor guy!
I don’t actually allow poor Miguel many orgasms. I figure he’s had all the fucking he wanted to when he was young. After all, he’s the one who wanted ME to dominate him. Every two to five months, I am merciful and I let him jerk off into a shot glass and drink it, but I generally put him through some nonsense like tossing a die and requiring that it land on “two” or no cum…or I time him, and he must squirt in three minutes using his left hand.
But Miguel seems quite happy with me! Last year he gave me an engagement ring, and he’s promised that he is going to get out of the drug business, and he’s purchased a string of CD music stores…I seriously may make him dress in bridal outfit and take his rectum on our wedding night, just to freak him out…I’m an evil bitch!
I doubt he’ll really quit the drug thing completely, but that just gives me one more thing to punish him for!
So I thought you’d enjoy a letter from the underworld!
Fondly,
Remy
Dear Remy—
I hope that you continue to bring a little pain to a man in such a vile business. Since the FBI and the cops can’t get him, you keep working on it!
Best,
Shoeblossom
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