Fifteen Minutes

Story Info
The makings of a whore.
1.5k words
3.85
17.2k
13
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
CurvyMrs
CurvyMrs
46 Followers

It took just 15 minutes... No more, no less. 15 minutes and I had taken the step from which I would not look back:

It began far earlier though, as all stories do. I had always been the most innocent of good girls. Wholesome and protected for much of my life. That was unlikely to change in the autumn of 2021. Until then, my favourite word was no! I, Kelly Collins, was a feminist, a prude, naive. Frankly, I was a bit of a bitch, and anyway; who had even heard of a kink psychologist 🤷🏻‍♀️.

My upbringing was a good one but sheltered and for good reason. My parents were (and are) amazing. Very safe and protective of me in all ways. Their love was absolute, yet circumstances had been challenging. By age six I had become quite unwell, to the extent that I would become wheelchair-bound for seven years. The pain in my bones was awful. I spent many times on steroids and medication. Trips to the physio were torturous and, at the worst of times. There were times when I feared I may not see my adult years. Fortunately for me, the worst passed, and whilst there will always be difficult periods. I not only made it into adulthood but am here at age 40.

So. Why am I telling you this? What the heck am I doing here on an erotic literature website? I think it's important to understand where I've come from to understand what a leap I have taken and continue to take.

I was a very naive, sheltered 21-year-old who sang in the chapel choir when I first met Wyn. I had had previous boyfriends and had my heart broken. I was struggling to overcome a past trauma. These experiences affected my trust and relationship with others, particularly men. I was in a dark place.

Wyn was different. He listened, really heard me. And as it turned out was a horny kinky bugger with plans for me far beyond my imagination at that time. What was supposed to be a final term, end of uni fling became very intense and two months later, we were engaged on our graduation day. We have now been together for 19 years.

Wyn would soon gradually start introducing me to kink. First a little dressing up. I retain fond memories of a black PVC nurse's uniform and Wyn travelling up to see me from Swansea on a public coach in his tight vinyl police uniform. I was extremely vanilla in my outlook but this excited me. However, I was still very judgemental (I apologise for this as I didn't know better). Wyn has always been kinky. I struggled to understand this and how much it was (and is) a part of him. I hated porn, was scared of so many things and was terrified of judgement. Equally, what did it say about me? Girls are unconsciously programmed to be good. To be nice. Not to hurt others, etc.

Fast forward a few years. I was married. We had bought a house. I had two hip replacements and a healthy child. You would think things must be rosey. While we loved each other deeply, we struggled sexually. My sex drive was low, and he was very high (never ideal). We had regular conflicts regarding the amount of sex, let alone the type. We continued to try to identify areas of kink which we both enjoyed, we tried a lot. However, when Wyn would try to dominate me, it just never felt right; I would shut down and become unresponsive. This in itself led to more conflict and frustration for both of us.

I know now that It wasn't that I didn't need a dom. It's that it wasn't him.

The breaking point for us came 2 years ago when my sex drive had declined to practically nothing. Sex had at that time become a chore for me, particularly kink and I hate admitting that. It wasn't that I didn't love Wyn, I did, but lockdowns and being on top of each other 24/7 and not in a fun way, really tested us. We were both unhappy, especially Wyn. I felt that I wasn't enough and would never be able to match his needs. In desperation, after a particularly gut-wrenching argument, I suggested marriage counselling. Wyn shocked me by agreeing but was scared that he would be judged for his fetishistic needs. He sought out a kink-friendly psychologist and this has been life-changing for both of us. Ella enabled us to communicate without judgment and listen to each other.

Ella recognised that our dynamic was wrong, so we changed it. Once I accepted that my negative prudish attitude and lack of communication was hurting our relationship. I made changes. I had to.

As a result, our relationship has improved considerably. I have had to deprogramme myself, as a child you are programmed to be a certain way, and I needed to change this. I am a work in progress and to be honest I probably always will be, but I have progressed a long, long way. I struggled to reject society's expectations and beauty standards and struggled with body confidence. I listened far too much to angry women. I thought far too much and worried about who I was. I am now saying fuck this shit and moving on. Developing into the person I wish to be.

I am today, aside from my vanilla responsibilities, a submissive and a slut. I am a possession. I do not belong to my husband. Having had two relatively short experiences with dominants, in July 2023 I accepted the collar of a wonderful man (who does not wish to be identified). I respect him completely and please him sexually, masochistically and emotionally in all ways. My husband understands and supports this. Wyn is not a cuckold but he is very submissive himself and I know he loves seeing me fucked and used. He has bought me most of my extensive slut and fetish wardrobe and is quite wonderfully manipulated by the most subtle tweaking of his very sensitive nipples. I continue to meet others through the kink community on a well-known fetish website. My popularity there has become somewhat crazy, with over 35,000 followers alone. I attend events and have been known to host kink play and even attended my first gangbangs this past year as the main event.

Through BDSM and kink, I have met a wonderful community of individuals which has opened my eyes and introduced me to a new and wonderful world. I have realised that there are many people with more interesting outside interests, and I am one of them. I have discovered the pleasure of being a total slut. I thoroughly enjoy submissive hard sex with various men and women. I belong to my owner. He can train me as he wishes and he does with his particular interest in latex. I like fucking, even as an object. I need it rough and intensive. I am a masochist who enjoys pain and being degraded and treated like shit. I fucking love sex again. I have become a very active hotwife and proud.

More importantly, I am so proud that myself and husband have salvaged our relationship. Love was never the issue for us; Wyn and I are happier than ever.

Recently my limits have fallen one by one in the last few months alone, I have been fucked publicly, worn full latex, been hooded, attended countless kink events, and had my back tattooed and my 34g tits pierced.

In October of this year, there was one more limit that I had continued to say no to. It started as a desire, suggested by Wyn many years ago and since echoed by many based on my activities. And yet it stewed in the back of my mind. I had had offers, serious offers. Each time, saying no. It was wrong, it was risky, I couldn't do that.

Of course deep down the interest was not only there but growing, over weeks and months. I would think of the extra money and think, 'that would be nice'. I would look up the words escort and prostitute and think 'i'm already submissive and trained, maybe I could just give it a go'. Deep down I knew it would be dangerous and probably sordid but that only increased the interest. I was already hooked without fully knowing it.

Then... one evening I found myself looking online at a well known sex working site I had heard of many times.I believed as per normal I would veer away to literotica and finger myself to oblivion reading myself into a sexual stupour. This time however the feeling wouldn't shake. This time thecalling in my head was just to stong. Before I knew it I had clicked create profile and in just 15 minutes... Tiffany was born.💋

N.B. This is the prelude to 'notes of a submissive whore' which will follow soon.

CurvyMrs
CurvyMrs
46 Followers
Please rate this story
The author would appreciate your feedback.
  • COMMENTS
Anonymous
Our Comments Policy is available in the Lit FAQ
Post as:
Anonymous
6 Comments
patient1patient14 months ago

Personally, I like sex as an expression of affection. That said, I admire your expression of your personal truth, and for that I gave it five stars.

AnonymousAnonymous4 months ago

Honest, open, and well told! More please!

AnonymousAnonymous4 months ago

it did well in this spilling. Good girl!

it, and Wyn and its Owner all are lucky, and this kink friendly psychologist Ella was perfect in bringing it out, and freeing it to fly.

Wonderful! it needs to spill more.

CurvyMrsCurvyMrs4 months agoAuthor

I’d appreciate any feedback at all. I know it’s not a typical story but I wanted to set the scene. Yes this all happened. Xx

amadeuseroticamadeuserotic4 months ago

I admire your courage, Kelly Collins, exposing yourself in a brutally honest autobiography. Many details remain to be uncovered: how did the switch from prudish to sex-positive happen, exactly? I think you planned it all out, when and how you are going to reveal such details, as you are announcing your submissive whore series.

It feels that the typos in your last paragraph (thecalling in my head was just to stong) are almost intentional, illustrating how excited you were at the prospect of crossing the bridge to becoming fuck meat for sale, so your capacity to write coherent sentences was temporarily diminished.

Well done.

Show More
Share this Story

Similar Stories

Tiff - Notes of a Submissive Whore Kelly becomes Tiffany and goes on the game.in BDSM
My Destruction Fet slut CurvyMrs goes that one step too far.in BDSM
Hot Slutty Night A story about a hot summer night my drunk wife.in Loving Wives
The Rent Agreement Ch. 01 Young couple strikes devious deal with cocky roommate.in NonConsent/Reluctance
Wife & the Black Loan Shark: Pt. 01 Paying off hubby's debt sends Shannon on a journey.in Interracial Love
More Stories