Model, Wife, Slut & Whore

by Black_Lace_Vixen©

Authors Note: The story you are about to read for the most part is true. I have lived in South Africa, Switzerland, Washington D.C. and Rome and now am living with my husband near Paris, France. The name I have assumed for my own sexual experiences is "Vixen," the alter ego of a model.

Now I have written about my life; my inner mind and psyche, my experiences, my true nature and the flaw in my character, my weakness for sex, about how I could have said NO, but I let things happen to me. Perhaps some of you will relate to my real life experiences and sexual desires while some of you will undoubtedly fantasise about them and me.

The Beginning

I have never thought about writing about my life, but someone has made me look back at my life, about the many lustful experiences I have made that have changed my life. This is about my weakness for sex, if I could only have said NO! This story is about the things I let happen to me, who I really am beneath my snobbish exterior and expensive clothes, a Vixen..

I first should tell you about myself. Where should I start? Imagine if you could see me, you will see a spoiled but very respectable and stunning looking former model, a diplomat daughter who is very confident and is used to the finer things in life.

People admire me, some view me as very reserved and arrogant, but underneath the surface there is a dark side of my personality, deep inside I crave the attention of men and women who use me and abuse me. No self-respecting women would crave the attention of such men. But I know better, inside I am a slut and have all the right qualities of a high class whore.

Until recently, about six months ago I could not justify these cravings, Perhaps I have deluded myself for years, I was unable to accept who I am inside. I have always considered myself a sophisticated and upstanding member of society.

Now at 29, I still have the looks, the body and the face of a model, my hair is long and dark, my eyes are alluring and sparkling blue, my eyebrows are brown and I have full sensual lips.

I was not the type of model you would think of: very tall and bony. When I walk into a room I turn heads. I have a gorgeous figure standing five-ten, busty 37C, 25" waist, 35" hips at 112 lbs. Sometimes it makes me feel uncomfortable when I feel how men watch me, their eyes on my breasts. I have been told my best assets are my nice long legs and beautiful eyes, but my breast are what men like most about me, they are large and firm and my nipples are dark and usually get hard when men watch me. But above all I am reserved, aristocratic and elegant.

I am very well educated, and am fond of hats, high heels and sexy outfits, especially black silk garters and nylon stockings and g-string panties, but often wearing nice designer clothes or tailored business suits.

I know I have an athletic body that attracts men like flies, especially when I wear a tight catsuit or chiffon I turn heads. I am aware of their eyes on me as they gaze through the semi-transparent material I wear looking at my breasts. I love to go to charity balls and gala functions often an amusing mixture of sophisticated style and decadence, wearing a revealing evening gown with a low décolleté. I see their eyes feasting on me; how they strip me nude with their eyes.

I feel naked when such indignant men look at me like that, but to be honest it also turns me on how some stare at me, it makes me horny when they undressing me with their eyes, how they stare at my breasts, I am wanting to have their hard cocks in my mouth. Imagining what I might look like sprawled naked on the floor with my legs spread, ready for them, I see myself nude on my back and wait helplessly to be violated. I shutter at the my secret thoughts about being used sexually, being gagged and others fucking my asshole. Sometimes I think too much about this.

I am inside an exhibitionist; it's really exciting, feeling of pent up desires rise in me, I rub my tights together, its almost unbearable feeling the lust between my legs, my nipples get hard and are throbbing. I feel myself get wet, wanting to go to the ladies and open my legs and finger myself, giving me release. I tell myself not to think about sex, wanting to protect my marriage, but sometimes my desires are getting too much.

I am married to a much older and rich man, but money was never an issue. My wonderful husband in my respectable life is a true gentlemen, intelligent, kind and tender who has no idea about my dark cravings inside my pretty head. He likes me meticulously groomed, dressed in designer clothes, long stylish skirts, cashmere sweaters, silk blouses and conservative shoes, above all he does not approve at all of my teasing and my flirting with his some of his friends.

I love it how his friends admire me, looking up at me, knowing they will not getting anywhere with me, seeing me as a respectable woman But I know better, when I am naked I do as I am told, deep inside I am a slut, a cheap worthless whore, the contrast is so exciting for me, just thinking about it, being told what to do make me wet.. They have no idea about what is beneath the surface, the dark side to my personality, craving the attention of men. My husband is often on business trips and then I spend my days shopping, going to lunch with friends.

My decent husband has no idea how I miss my model days, the parties, the clients and photographers, my weakness for sex and making love with my body to the camera, that I am a natural exhibitionist who thinks about being displayed, only dressed in a black lace bra, with black silk suspenders, panties, stockings and 6 inch high heels, in public or at private parties.

Those bad parties with important clients, their friends and other models still run through my head. I did not say NO and let things happen to my, feeling the pleasure from feeling fear and being controlled. When I am naked I do as I am told, letting men and women touch me, being on my back for them with a line forming, opening my legs when I was told. Everything just seemed to happen when I am being fucked hard like that.

I have realized that abuse, humiliation, and submission are now a strong aphrodisiac to me, there is nothing that turns me on like being forced to display my dark bush which is nicely trimmed and to perform on my back in front of different men.

How easy it would be for my husband to turn me into his slut whore, making me wear a tight fitting PVC catsuit, performing and serving the needs of his business friends and others, the needs of ruthless strangers, making me feel alive, my cunt, mouth and ass at their disposal.

I see the admiring glances on my breasts I get from his friends before anything else, some undressing me and I love it to be at the centre of attention. I have known always that my sexuality can get me whatever I want.

But my husband is not like that, he is a real nice gentlemen, kind and tender. When he is away, I like to wear short and sexy dresses from Azzedine Alaia which are extremely tight and sexy, and when I travel alone I prefer short skirts, silk tight shirts and nice elegant blazers with sexy black silk or lace underwear mostly from La Perla with black lace stocking from Fogal, spiked high heels and of course nice hats, making me look respectable and reserved just like the aristocratic snobby bitch I am.

Some, mostly rather common men who want to get in my panties but who I have ignored, have called me an arrogant bitch or even in their terminology, "a cock teaser," but to me they are just working class guys who do not really interest me. I often feel contempt for them, sometimes they are like unpleasant flies, always returning but they are so boring, having nothing to say, but in a way they are right, I am a first class tease and when they look at me I feel the heat between my legs. It all is very innocent to me, just a smile, a comment, a touch, a comment, but it can be taken wrong.

My parents are rather conservative, aristocratic, especial my Mother giving me a very strict upbringing, now I understand much better why. They have no idea, but deep inside, beneath my expensive clothes, I am not as decent and respectable as I seem.

If they would had ever known, there would be a family court where all the senior members of my family would meet at the family castle and would discuss my misbehavior. In my case I am sure they would come to the conclusion that my behavior had been deplorable and would never speak to me again and my family would disown me. But they are very proper and nice and have been very good to me and I would never want to hurt to them.

The truth is my nice and decent world is unraveling. I am fighting those wonderful, shameless sexual desires of passion and lust. Sometimes I think that my purpose is to dress like a slut in short skirts and tight tank tops without a bra, showing my nipples and have other men tell me what to do.

Deep inside I have desires to become a shameless slut, a sex addict, a passion slave for men and women, opening my legs for everyone who wants me however they want and whom I am told to fuck. I have wild dreams, you may call them nightmares, but I dream of being a whore, being bound and fucking complete strangers, sucking their cocks, opening my legs for them, doing whatever I am told to do. I know deep inside I am a bad girl who should be punished.

I often imagine myself tied up in a dark and cold cellar, unable to move, completely surrendering myself to different men, being used really turns me on. I try to forget about my fantasies, about the images and I can't think about anything else. Regardless of what I fantasize, nothing brings me off as imagining herself bound and gagged, being humiliated and used by different men and women with absolutely no regard for me.

I imagine how they use a permanent marker and humiliate me by writing what they call me on my body, on my breasts. Mostly when I am alone I surf the net looking for pictures of girls in varying states of bondage, bound and gagged, discovering new sites while I masturbate.

Since I was a little girl, I always wanted to be a fashion model. I was extremely cute for my age yet looked much older. But my parents did not want any of this. Being a model was not done, and they were always very strict about everything, especially boys.

At school, a nice Catholic school I also was supposed to wear a school uniform, a blue plaid skirt with a white school blouse and tie, white knee-high school socks and shoes. At school I was already turning heads and I was one of the most popular girls and was at the top of my class, which was of course expected of me. I always had a lot of trouble with the boys, especially with older boys, which sometimes annoyed me when they harassed me, the way they were always staring at me and made remarks, which disgusted me.

I knew what kind of effect I had on them, but I also enjoyed teasing them, watching how they always where falling over themselves, like little boys. That might have something to do with my long dark hair, my face and I developed in the right places very early. So I guess that’s why I loved to be in the center of attention and still do. It gives me control over them.

But not all boys liked me, some could not stand me, they found me to be a stuck-up arrogant bitch, but if I was a bitch -- a sassy bitch to them, I was a very beautiful rich bitch and I knew it and was not afraid to show it. I always got what I wanted. Of course these were boys who were very common, even at our school we had a couple of such boys, I would not look at them but they would look at me, calling me names behind my back.

The boys I went out with were of course from my own social class, who would love if they got the chance to take me to the movies, and as soon as the lights went out it would not take long, all they wanted was to get there hands under my shirt. I would often wear t-shirts and they went into my cups and start fondling my breasts.

Of course being a nice girl, I protested but basically I loved it when they started touching my tits or we ended up often in the darkness of a parked car. I know I should have stopped them, my life would have been different, but I protested only in a minor way and let it happen. It felt so good when they touched my breasts and squeezed my nipples , my nipples are so sensitive and it's always so easy to get me aroused and make me do things they liked with my eyes closed feeling their hands exploring my body, but I never went all the way.

The one who got me started on my sexual adventures was my first boyfriend Claudio. He was 21, much older then I was. Claudio was a tennis pro at the country club. Since the first time I saw him smiling at me, I was really exciting about him -- giving me butterflies when he looked at me. I immediately had a big crush on him.

He was dark and extremely good looking, and I was young and innocent that summer and could be found most of the time at the tennis courts, but doing much more then playing tennis. I thought about him all the time, and at night I would touch myself, it made me feel so good, squeezing my breasts, rubbing my nipples and pleasuring myself to sleep like I always do when I am alone. I also started to masturbate in the morning, even in the shower.

One night during a party at the country club, while my parents were at the club, Claudio danced with me. I could see how my parents were looking at me when we danced close, not liking very much what they saw, not liking him at all, since they considered him below our socoal class, common. They told me I should behave and go home.

Not much later I left, knowing that Claudio would wait for me outside and he took me to his dressing room. He was so nice, pressing his mouth to my soft lips, his hands caressing my breasts, fondling me; exciting me. His tongue slid in my mouth, thrilling me, exploring me, kissing me softly, we kept squirming and thrashing. I kissed him back, sticking my tongue in his mouth; everything was so natural. His kiss was so exciting, not at all like those little boys who tried to kiss me. With Claudio I responded; my head was spinning.

He picked me up in his arms; I could feel how strong he was, still kissing me on the lips, passionately. At first I was hesitant but it really turned me on. The idea that my very decent parents were within distance, able to walk in while he was opening my blouse, feeling my well-developed tits, pressing his hard body against mine. I felt the heat fill me, feeling my pussy moisten between my legs. I really loved the way he touched me, his hands massaging my very young sex through my panties, fondling me. After a while of kissing and petting, he unsnapped my shorts, pulled them down, pulling up my shirt, slowly pulling it off me. His hands slipped between my legs, stroking lightly on my sweet young virgin patch, letting his finger slip inside me. I was on fire.

He pushed me against the table. It was the first time he made me a prisoner of my lust, biting on my nipples, unable to say no to his fingers slipping in and out of my very tight pussy. It was heaven. I opened my eyes when he pulled my panties completely off; I just let him. Within minutes I was naked. I was shaking with excitement and desire, loosing all sense of where I was, who I was and what I was doing. He took a step back and looked at me, stroking his penis. I could tell he really liked what he saw.

He was really very good to me. I didn't resist at all when he pushed me on the table -- he opened my legs and rubbed his cock against my pussy making me surrender to him, slowly driving his cock slowly into me. He held me down on the table; I couldn’t move while he pawed and grabbed my breasts, pinching my nipples, squeezing them hard, as he started to fuck me faster and faster. I heard him tell him to move my hips and I responded, then to thrust back, trying to bear the pain while my body was on fire, losing my virginity, making me shiver, feeling wonderful vibrations inside me. Afterwards he made me think I was the most wonderful girl in the world, pulling me close to him. I could feel him again getting hard, rubbing against me.

Later he wanted me to suck his penis. I was very hesitant at first -- wasn't sure what to do. He pushed me on my knees on the floor and I just did what he wanted, he had control over me He began rubbing his dick over my face and over my lips, slapping my face with his penis.

I closed my eyes and took it in my mouth. It tasted salty but was exiting. It was beautiful how it began to thicken. He told me what to do, to massage his balls. I tried to be good -- he grabbed my head tightly with both hands and forced himself deeper, rocking his hips in and out making me gag on his dick. He ejaculated and I tried to move away but he held me, forcing me and then making me swallow him. That was so wild feeling his cum inside my mouth. And from then on every time I was near him I wanted to feel more and more of him.

When I got home, I crawled into bed. The next day he started to give me tennis lessons but now I was exchanging sexual favors for this, as a payment he made me suck his cock for every thirty minutes he taught me. First I hesitated, but I felt like fire, feeling myself getting exited with the thought of serving him. At first I could not; the idea to exchange sex for tennis lessons was terrible, but later it also exited me..

When he told me this I protested. I tried to resist, but not much later I agreed, hating myself for it, . I know now he changed my life, it could have turned out so differently, but I just let it happen, if I could only have said NO to him then, but I would come to his dressing room whenever he wanted his payment. I simple stopped resisting him, accepting how he pinned me to the wall, finding myself on my knees before him, afterwards we would play together in the shower, soaping my body making me shake with lust and exhaustion.

Another time, he took me on a drive and he parked somewhere out of sight. He would tell me to reveal myself, to open my blouse showing him my lovely big breasts, making me lift my skirt and touch myself for him; it was if I had no choice. Opening my blouse, he made me pinch my nipples which made him hard and then making me ask him to suck his cock, making me jerk him off and swallow his cum. After a while, he made me ask him to fuck me.

Sitting on my knees in front of him, he made me open his pants for him, accepting his hard cock into my lips, stroking him with my tongue as I started to pump with my right hand, loving it, kissing and sucking him made me always excited. Then he started to talk dirty to me; sometimes he called me a rich bitch, commanding me to finger myself as I sucked him, doing what he told me, to rub my breasts and clit. After a while, he told me I sucked like a natural, that I was a very good little cocksucker.

It made me ashamed and turned me at the same time how he treated me, unable to say no; how he grabbed my breasts and made me ask him to suck his cock, it was not the first time he called me a bitch, but I didn’t care anymore. The truth is it excited me when he called me a slut.

After the couple of weeks with him, different, older boys, who knew him, wanted to go out with me. I was horrified when I found out they knew, but I could not say no to them and started to do what they wanted. I loved sucking their cocks, especially if someone talked real dirty to me, that makes me wet. I like it sitting on my knees in front of them, looking at them, at their face, how I turn them on while I give them head.

After the first weeks, my life changed becoming pretty sexual active, every chance Claudio and I got -- he was such a great teacher. He made me get hooked on sex. I couldn't believe how good it felt to have his penis inside of me, I felt my pussy muscles clutching, it felt so good being aroused. Sometimes he would take me to the back of the tennis club, it was dark, but it was exciting how he pushing against the wall, how we could have been caught, when he lifted my skirt I was ready to cum the moment he put his cock into me and fucked me,