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A Privileged Background

Posted by: Author: Age: 18 Posted on: 0 comments
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One may imagine being born into a privileged family, educated at great expense and given the best life has to offer is something one may feel grateful for-however, it is restricting to the point of being abusive if you happen to be the daughter in such a family.


You see, one is expected to marry well. Indeed, developing the blood line and fortunes of the family are what we daughters seem to be for. As such, our schooling is less focused on the academic, and more on the etiquette of life, the meaningless and much sought after 'breeding' that is looked for in a society wife.

But deep within is the repression. Has uttering a word ever made you dizzy to the point of almost fainting? Has merely sitting in a certain way almost caused you to lose control? Come with me into the world of the poor little rich girl.

They chose the school well. It was puritanical and designed to ensure two things. One was that we would all understand the etiquette of the nobility in England, and secondly that we would all emerge with out virginities very much intact. (To give you an idea, there were no tampon machines in the lavatories, only towels!)

So, the club was formed. Myself and two other trusted friends. We would find ourselves secret places to be and we would at first merely talk as lewdly as we could. It took us months to pluck up courage, but I remember the day I first said 'cunt'. Mine jumped in response, and the wetness began. Angela said 'I want to get fucked' Maria spoke of her desire for 'a fucking good wank' and Anna suggested that to be 'covered from head to toe in a mans spunk, right from his fucking enormous cock' would be rather pleasant.

That wonderful, heady day when we swore like troopers and each of us left our little den wet and aroused.

The next meeting we sat deliberately with our legs open, and touching ourselves as we spoke again uttering filth into the safe embrace of good friends.

Then, we did what, with hindsight was inevitable. We masturbated together, or rather one at a time, the others encouraging verbally. The masturbator was always blidnfolded, and we painted pictures for her. 'He's here. He has his cock out and he is going to ram it up your flithy little cunt, then he is going to fuck your brains out whore, and then he will cum up you.' We said anything we could imagine, falling over ourselves to be the most depraved.

But for me it was the words, those wonderful, forbidden words that sent me into a frenzy of desire.



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