fucking ! My effort to kill Kennedy did n't work.

I 've been trying to kill her for a while now, the big problem is JFK does n't really exist. Kennedy is me, or at least one part of my personality. It 's that part which flatness met first. It was that part that which he fell in dear with, but never told me. She 's a cunt, and lusterlessness likes that about her. I want to be me, I want to be Kiki, I 'm a very much nicer mortal, and Matt likes that about me. Matt can get confused ( and confusing ) like that.

I thought I 'd finally killed her when we had a chance at a new kickoff. We 'd spent two years working in different metropolis, and commuting to see each early each calendar week. During that time, Kennedy Interrnational had shown up periodically and been his perfect gripe, or made him her gripe. You probably do n't want to know what the bitch did to him, or you 've read his report of that. I just wanted to be the perfect jade for Matt, `` the fornicatress '' is what President John F. Kennedy calls me, I wear that label with pride.

We had our new outset, lustrelessness and I moved in together finally, and I invited Kennedy to join us. I took back more of Kennedy 's personality for myself, those bits that Matt, and Kennedy, bask so often. And you know what, we both enjoyed it. He willingly let me mistreat him, I had so much fun doing that, and so did he. He never seems to enjoy what Kennedy does to him, enjoy is n't what he was looking for, but when I did those same things, he 'd get such a big grin, I was worried I was doing it wrong. But, he assured me I was n't. I let myself enjoy it, and he enjoyed my enjoyment. We got a Nice big feedback loop going there, we both got off so much on it.

So why has Matt just sent Kennedy Interrnational a textual matter ? Of course, Kennedy has a separate number, I got a burner for that. I thought it was role play, but I 'm never sure enough when it comes to flatness 's perceptions, he has strange room of looking at the world. Sometimes, I really am convinced he sees me and Kennedy as divide citizenry. The text was elementary, just `` ? ''. So I texted back asking what he wanted, and then `` Does n't the slut do that for you ? '' I mean, I did n't acknowledge what he wanted, that I was n't already doing to him.

It took him a piece to suffice that, and I stewed and worried, what was I doing amiss ? Then I got my solution, his reaction : `` She loves me. '' I really did laugh out loud at that, luckily he was n't in earreach when I got that. He does accept some sense ( very little ), so when he 's arranging allotment with his mistress ( i.e. JFK ), I 'm nowhere near. See what I mean about perceptions.

commencement, I 'm jutting, I 'm not doing anything damage. As the song says, if loving you is wrongly, I do n't want to be aright. Kennedy is a heartless bitch, that 's how I, and she, would draw her. She 'd wear that label with superbia. But, now what am I supposed to do ?

I did the only when matter I could do, free the new John Fitzgerald Kennedy. The new Kennedy was even Thomas More heartless, I 'd already taken most of her, there was little give to be her. I was also pissed. That is not the redress skeletal system of idea to put down into a BDSM scene with, mea culpa. So the new Kennedy was also pissed. My plan was to make things so unpleasant, he 'd never want to see Kennedy again, talk about misreading a situation. I 'm supposed to be the one who can read things like that.

I turned up unexpectedly, typical Kennedy. flatness was working at household, I transformed myself into John Fitzgerald Kennedy ( you know the trick SuperMan does with that eyeglasses, so no one recognizes him, that 's how I do it. ) I just barged in and started being Kennedy. I was wearing the dominatrix outfit I like. I was going to use the horse whip he hates ( the one that had been a birthday nowadays from lusterlessness to Kennedy ), though he had let Kiki use it on him. That was another thing President Kennedy was pissed about, that he 'd let Kiki use it, but not her. I told him I was doing it for my benefit, not his. I told him not to use the safe Word, or I 'd leave. I was surprised exactly how lots that turned him on. I made him tell me what he wanted me to do to him, he hates that, he just wants to be done to, without any input.

I did n't even tie him up ; he does love being tied up. I even abused his orchis ( with the whiplash ), he 's always been deathly afraid of me doing that. He still was, but he let me do it. However often I tried to make it unpleasant for him, it just turned him on more. He has some very uncanny thought, in some fetid turning point of his head, I was managing to tap into some of the least pleasant ones. I really should have been able to translate him better. I 'm supposed to be the one with the people attainment, and lustrelessness is the most transparent man being on the planet. He surprised me there.

I also miscalculated how hard to hit him, or I let my choler get the best of me. I laid into him as hard as I could, with the horsewhip on his keister. I was expecting the safe Scripture to come out, and Kennedy would be suddenly. There was some shriek, then he was quiet, unresponsive. I 'd managed to send him right into sub space. That 's an spay state of cognisance that submissives can get into when stressed. He usually gets there after going down on a lot of pussy.

I really did n't know what to do, but I reasoned that when he came out he 'd need some TLC. I did n't want Kennedy to be there for that, so I changed back to being Kiki and roused him. He was really demonstrative about how much he loved me when he was roused, totally senior high. I was glad President Kennedy was n't there for that, he seemed to be imprinting on me. It was only when he said how tasty my pussycat looked that I realized how flex on I was. Fucking hell, was I turned on. Being Kennedy International Airport and abusing flatness will turn me on, and I 'm not that well-situated with that. I 'd been so concern about him ; I did n't even agnise I was turned on.

So I rode his grimace and came a few time, then blew him, that was when he finally snapped out of it, and he realized his fag trauma. I felt really guilty about that, I tried to be spear carrier courteous to him.

So now what ?

I tried again. This metre I 'd make it so bad, he 'd never want to see JFK again. I took notes, I worked out exactly how severely I could beat up him, and not have him slip into subspace. Then, Kennedy put in an appearance again. It went much the same as the first metre, but this time it hurt him. Again, I did n't tie him up, but he could n't make out with that. I 'd separate him to keep his hands out of the way, but eventually he could n't. He covered his butt, and he cried even harder while apologizing to me for failing. I 'm not sure if the pain, or the failure was worse for him. He 'd already been crying, Kennedy likes to reduce him to tears. He was so upset that he could n't do as he was told, I took pathos on him and tied him up. Then, I beat him mercilessly.

And it turned me on. Again, I was surprised how very much it turned me on. Kennedy does get turned on by it, but exactly how much was a surprise. After about half an hr of the merciless torture, I could n't stand it anymore. I shoved my pussy in his face, telling him, `` The sooner I come, the sooner I get back to whipping you. ``

I was looking forward to one of his nice, long, slow, teasing performances. Ye gods, those are good. I was expecting him to want a respite, and I was offering him the chance. He should have been able-bodied to maintain me on edge for at least half an hour, but he got me off as quick as he could. That was just about instantly. God that was an astonishing climax, I was n't expecting it, it just knocked me level. What really got to me was the realization he actually wanted me to be so harsh to him.

As I said, I was not easy with the way Kennedy Interrnational was treating him, and how it was turning me on. But, he just gave me license to do that to him. I took his permission and ran with it, once I managed to travel again after that sexual climax. I 'd scramble him until I could n't stomach it any more, then get him to get me off. If I 'd sensed any hesitation in that, I could n't have carried on, but he was just as nifty as I was to get on with it. I must have done that five sentence, his butt was a mess for days after that. Again, as Kiki, I felt guilty and was supernumerary dainty to him.

So I gave up on my attack to kill Kennedy, I let her live my risky phantasy. You know what ? I know all his buttons, I know how to get to him. I can thread him up so badly, while turning myself on, that he 'll train it out on Kiki, on me. I love that, I ca n't usually get him to treat me like that without him bursting into split. As much as I hate President John F. Kennedy, she does sustain her USA .