fuck ! My attempt to toss off John Fitzgerald Kennedy did n't work.

I 've been trying to kill her for a while now, the big trouble is President John F. Kennedy does n't really be. Kennedy is me, or at to the lowest degree one part of my personality. It 's that part which Matt met first. It was that contribution that which he fell in love with, but never told me. She 's a gripe, and Matt likes that about her. I want to be me, I want to be Kiki, I 'm a a good deal nicer somebody, and lustrelessness likes that about me. Matt can get confused ( and confusing ) like that.

I thought I 'd finally killed her when we had a opportunity at a new beginning. We 'd spent two age working in unlike city, and commuting to see each former each week. During that time, Kennedy had shown up periodically and been his perfect bitch, or made him her bitch. You probably do n't want to know what the gripe did to him, or you 've read his story of that. I just wanted to be the perfect strumpet for Matt, `` the adulteress '' is what Kennedy calls me, I wear that label with pride.

We had our new first, flatness 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, delight so much. And you know what, we both enjoyed it. He willingly let me clapperclaw him, I had so much fun doing that, and so did he. He never seems to relish 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 grinning, I was worried I was doing it wrong. But, he assured me I was n't. I let myself revel it, and he enjoyed my enjoyment. We got a prissy big feedback loop going there, we both got off so much on it.

So why has Matt just sent Kennedy International Airport a text ? Of line, Kennedy has a sort number, I got a burner for that. I thought it was office play, but I 'm never certain when it comes to lusterlessness 's perception, he has unusual ways of looking at the world. Sometimes, I really am convinced he sees me and Kennedy as separate masses. The textbook was uncomplicated, just `` ? ''. So I texted back asking what he wanted, and then `` Does n't the hussy do that for you ? '' I mean, I did n't know what he wanted, that I was n't already doing to him.

It took him a while to answer that, and I stewed and worried, what was I doing wrong ? Then I got my solution, his reaction : `` She loves me. '' I really did laugh out loud at that, luckily he was n't in earshot when I got that. He does have some gumption ( very little ), so when he 's arranging parceling with his fancy woman ( i.e. John Fitzgerald Kennedy ), I 'm nowhere near. See what I mean about perceptions.

First, I 'm relieve, I 'm not doing anything wrong. As the strain says, if loving you is wrong, I do n't want to be right. Kennedy Interrnational is a hardhearted cunt, that 's how I, and she, would depict her. She 'd break that label with superbia. But, now what am I supposed to do ?

I did the only affair I could do, release the new Kennedy. The new Kennedy was even more heartless, I 'd already taken almost of her, there was little left to be her. I was also pissed. That is not the right skeleton of mind to go in into a BDSM tantrum with, mea culpa. So the new JFK was also pissed. My plan was to wee things so unpleasant, he 'd never want to see Kennedy again, talk about misreading a office. I 'm supposed to be the one who can learn things like that.

I turned up unexpectedly, typical Kennedy. mat was working at house, I transformed myself into Kennedy ( you know the trick SuperMan does with that glasses, so no one recognizes him, that 's how I do it. ) I just barged in and started being Kennedy. I was wearing the dominatrix getup I like. I was going to use the gymnastic horse whip he hates ( the one that had been a natal day present tense from matte to Kennedy ), though he had let Kiki use it on him. That was another thing Kennedy International Airport 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 secure word of honor, or I 'd leave. I was surprised exactly how a lot 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 ball ( with the whip ), 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 Weird ideas, in some fetid corners of his intellect, I was managing to tap into some of the to the lowest degree pleasant I. I really should give been able to read him better. I 'm supposed to be the one with the people skills, and Matt is the most transparent man being on the major planet. He surprised me there.

I also miscalculated how hard to hit him, or I let my anger get the better of me. I laid into him as hard as I could, with the horsewhip on his butt. I was expecting the condom word to get along out, and President Kennedy would be numb. There was some screaming, then he was smooth, unresponsive. I 'd managed to send him right into sub space. That 's an neuter state of consciousness that submissives can get into when stressed. He usually gets there after going down on a lot of pussy.

I really did n't roll in the hay 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 pronoun about how much he loved me when he was roused, totally high. I was sword lily Kennedy Interrnational was n't there for that, he seemed to be imprinting on me. It was only when he said how tasty my cunt looked that I realized how turned on I was. Fucking hellhole, was I turned on. Being President John F. Kennedy and abusing lustrelessness will turn me on, and I 'm not that comfortable with that. I 'd been so worried about him ; I did n't even realize I was turned on.

So I rode his face and came a few times, then blew him, that was when he finally snapped out of it, and he realized his tail end distress. I felt really guilty about that, I tried to be redundant skillful to him.

So now what ?

I tried again. This time I 'd reach it so bad, he 'd never want to see President Kennedy again. I took notes, I worked out exactly how severely I could beat him, and not have him slip into subspace. Then, Kennedy put in an appearance again. It went much the same as the first meter, but this prison term it hurt him. Again, I did n't tie him up, but he could n't contend with that. I 'd told him to continue 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 for certain if the pain, or the nonstarter was tough for him. He 'd already been crying, Kennedy likes to repress him to teardrop. He was so upset that he could n't do as he was told, I took pity on him and tied him up. Then, I beat him mercilessly.

And it turned me on. Again, I was surprised how often it turned me on. JFK does get turned on by it, but exactly how much was a surprise. After about half an hour of the merciless torment, I could n't endure it anymore. I shoved my cunt in his face, telling him, `` The Oklahoman I come, the Oklahoman I get back to whipping you. ``

I was looking forward to one of his overnice, long, slow, teasing performances. Ye God, those are good. I was expecting him to want a respite, and I was offering him the chance. He should have been able to keep me on edge for at least half an 60 minutes, but he got me off as quick as he could. That was just about instantly. God that was an amazing orgasm, I was n't expecting it, it just knocked me flat. What really got to me was the actualization he actually wanted me to be so rough to him.

As I said, I was not comfortable with the way John Fitzgerald Kennedy was treating him, and how it was turning me on. But, he just gave me permission to do that to him. I took his permission and ran with it, once I managed to move again after that sexual climax. I 'd beat him until I could n't stand it any more, then get him to get me off. If I 'd sensed any hesitation in that, I could n't experience carried on, but he was just as keen as I was to get on with it. I must sustain done that five times, his butt was a raft for days after that. Again, as Kiki, I felt guilty and was extra squeamish to him.

So I gave up on my attack to kill Kennedy, I let her dwell my worst illusion. You know what ? I know all his clit, I know how to get to him. I can wrap him up so badly, while turning myself on, that he 'll look at it out on Kiki, on me. I love that, I ca n't usually get him to care for me like that without him bursting into snag. As a great deal as I hate Kennedy, she does have her U.S. .