u/Goldiemaso

🎀Summary🎀

This story is a narrated version of a short story submitted to me by a follower who wishes to remain anonymous, they wrote it themselves and gave me full consent to upload my narration of it. the story is another retelling of events the narrator (aka me!) went through with a heavy focus on foot worship, Chasity, and humiliation.

Are you ready to meet her?
—> https://hotaudio.net/u/Goldiebonds/Meeting-Jenna-Part-1

Goldie xx

Note: This smut contains horror and fearplay audiences involving a clown,
Clowns
fearplay
bondage
creepy
horror inspo

The curtains on the wall smell of mildew. They're damp and bleached from the long days sprawled out in the summers heat.. but right now that couldn't be farther from the case.

The tent is pitch black beyond the small ring of yellowish glow that surrounds you, and no matter how much you swing your head and try and capture a slight glimpse of the space beyond what the bare lightbulb illuminates all attempts are futile. From beyond the red and white striped tent, there is a light buzz if eerie music. It cycles on a loop that seems to have no beginning, no end, no theme. It's dragging your psyche on an endless soulless carousel, and considering your current predicament of being bound to the axe throwing target board pressed up firmly into your back it is clear that your captor has zero intentions on letting you off of your ceramic horse.

Just because you can't see me doesn't mean you are oblivious. just because I'm approaching from behind you on my hands and knees scaling the floor like vermin does not mean you don't sense me. You can feel the way my silent breath disrupts the flow of the room. You can feel the looming sense that a predator is near. With dread, your eyes settle on your left side. You watch my leather adorned hand creep around the side of the chipped red wood. I tap my fingers slowly against it. Taunting you, terrorizing you. Your breath hitches in the base of your throat and suddenly you feel as if you're about to vomit. My second hand joins right above my first. My fingers tap one by one, hands synchronized, digits syncopated. Your fear comes off so strong I can taste it, saliva running down my lip past my white and red makeup, dribbling down my face. Now I lean my head over the side just above where I rested my hands. I only let you see my eyes. They're bloodshot with bright blue pupils. Under this lighting they're almost translucent. You can see one of my long blonde braids flutter to the side over my shoulder as my eyebrows lift. We're playing a one sided game.

"Peekaboo!!!"

My voice comes out raw and manic. Sadism drips off of it as I take a full step forward and allow myself to be seen. My clothes are worn, clown makeup smeared across my face. I look at you with eyes so glossy and dazed it surprises you when I slam my fist against the wood right next to your cheek. You let out a meek cry, lip trembling in unison with the stunning tears that trace the outlines of your cheeks. The flush of your salt rubbed skin makes it look almost like you're blushing. I bring my face closer to yours, and despite how hard you try and escape me you can't. You turn your face to the side, but I bring my hand up to it, guiding it back to its centermost position. I feel your shaking gasps against my face as I let my tongue explore your cheek, lapping up your tears, letting the flavour melt in my mouth.

You shake your head no. You don't want me touching you, but I don't care, one of my hands reaching to my own chest, pulling at the top button and letting it fall loose my cleavage just barely peaking out from my bloodied blouse.
Bloodied.. that's when you noticed it. The red sprayed along my mostly white outfit, clinging and drying to the fabric in watercolour splotches. The ends of my hair have been dipped in the iconic crimson too. You can smell it on my skin, you can taste it on my breath. Your stomach curdles as you try and hold back your instincts. You can't fight, you can't act irrationally and risk setting me off in response. My trembling sighs mix with the music. You feel like you're floating.

"Do you like it?"

I prompt, crouching down until I'm a good foot shorter than you, looking up at you with my cutting blue eyes.

"Please don't hurt me.." you beg meekly, more tears gushing down waiting for my mouth to yearnfully collect them. A crooked smile plays on my face as I look up at you, my fire engine red lips brushing up against yours.

"I don't make promises I can't keep. It's bad practice."

"Who ARE you?" You retaliate
My face softens into a smile, the look of innocence has clearly been rehearsed.

"I'm me, silly." I whisper in your ear, hands behind my back as I kiss your nose, making you recoil.
You look over at me, if you really tried your hardest there was a way you could take me down in a fight, but the ropes are too tight and your lungs feel like they're shrunk three sizes. There is nowhere to go, and the more your eyes adjust to the light around you the clearer you can see the objects just beyond your safe little circle of light.

burlap sacks
jars upon jars of popcorn and candy
childlike crayon sketches

But then you see the hacksaw, forming rust along the aged ridges. The orange metal gleams in the reflection if my mirrored over eyes.

I grin. My teeth are stained blue from cotton candy
and you know you are not making it out of here in one piece.

Note: This smut contains horror and fearplay audiences involving a clown,
Clowns
fearplay
bondage
creepy
horror inspo

The curtains on the wall smell of mildew. They're damp and bleached from the long days sprawled out in the summers heat.. but right now that couldn't be farther from the case.

The tent is pitch black beyond the small ring of yellowish glow that surrounds you, and no matter how much you swing your head and try and capture a slight glimpse of the space beyond what the bare lightbulb illuminates all attempts are futile. From beyond the red and white striped tent, there is a light buzz if eerie music. It cycles on a loop that seems to have no beginning, no end, no theme. It's dragging your psyche on an endless soulless carousel, and considering your current predicament of being bound to the axe throwing target board pressed up firmly into your back it is clear that your captor has zero intentions on letting you off of your ceramic horse.

Just because you can't see me doesn't mean you are oblivious. just because I'm approaching from behind you on my hands and knees scaling the floor like vermin does not mean you don't sense me. You can feel the way my silent breath disrupts the flow of the room. You can feel the looming sense that a predator is near. With dread, your eyes settle on your left side. You watch my leather adorned hand creep around the side of the chipped red wood. I tap my fingers slowly against it. Taunting you, terrorizing you. Your breath hitches in the base of your throat and suddenly you feel as if you're about to vomit. My second hand joins right above my first. My fingers tap one by one, hands synchronized, digits syncopated. Your fear comes off so strong I can taste it, saliva running down my lip past my white and red makeup, dribbling down my face. Now I lean my head over the side just above where I rested my hands. I only let you see my eyes. They're bloodshot with bright blue pupils. Under this lighting they're almost translucent. You can see one of my long blonde braids flutter to the side over my shoulder as my eyebrows lift. We're playing a one sided game.

"Peekaboo!!!"

My voice comes out raw and manic. Sadism drips off of it as I take a full step forward and allow myself to be seen. My clothes are worn, clown makeup smeared across my face. I look at you with eyes so glossy and dazed it surprises you when I slam my fist against the wood right next to your cheek. You let out a meek cry, lip trembling in unison with the stunning tears that trace the outlines of your cheeks. The flush of your salt rubbed skin makes it look almost like you're blushing. I bring my face closer to yours, and despite how hard you try and escape me you can't. You turn your face to the side, but I bring my hand up to it, guiding it back to its centermost position. I feel your shaking gasps against my face as I let my tongue explore your cheek, lapping up your tears, letting the flavour melt in my mouth.

You shake your head no. You don't want me touching you, but I don't care, one of my hands reaching to my own chest, pulling at the top button and letting it fall loose my cleavage just barely peaking out from my bloodied blouse.
Bloodied.. that's when you noticed it. The red sprayed along my mostly white outfit, clinging and drying to the fabric in watercolour splotches. The ends of my hair have been dipped in the iconic crimson too. You can smell it on my skin, you can taste it on my breath. Your stomach curdles as you try and hold back your instincts. You can't fight, you can't act irrationally and risk setting me off in response. My trembling sighs mix with the music. You feel like you're floating.

"Do you like it?"

I prompt, crouching down until I'm a good foot shorter than you, looking up at you with my cutting blue eyes.

"Please don't hurt me.." you beg meekly, more tears gushing down waiting for my mouth to yearnfully collect them. A crooked smile plays on my face as I look up at you, my fire engine red lips brushing up against yours.

"I don't make promises I can't keep. It's bad practice."

"Who ARE you?" You retaliate

My face softens into a smile, the look of innocence has clearly been rehearsed.

"I'm me, silly." I whisper in your ear, hands behind my back as I kiss your nose, making you recoil.
You look over at me, if you really tried your hardest there was a way you could take me down in a fight, but the ropes are too tight and your lungs feel like they're shrunk three sizes. There is nowhere to go, and the more your eyes adjust to the light around you the clearer you can see the objects just beyond your safe little circle of light.

burlap sacks
jars upon jars of popcorn and candy
childlike crayon sketches

But then you see the hacksaw, forming rust along the aged ridges. The orange metal gleams in the reflection if my mirrored over eyes.

I grin. My teeth are stained blue from cotton candy

and you know you are not making it out of here in one piece.

You know what I would actually be obsessed with as a domme? A jester. I need me a jester. The clown outfit, although appreciated, is not mandatory whatsoever.

I would adore having a scene where my submissive is made to entertain me for a few hours entirely unsexually. I'd get them to do an array of tasks, some because I know they're good at them and enjoy doing them and some because they have zero experience whatsoever and will make an utter fool of themselves for me. I want to see the sub flicker between light, joy, and whimsy in their eyes when they can show me a skill they have mastered, and the humiliation all over their face when they are made to do something that utterly humbles them.

For those who would also enjoy a little bit of jesting around, here are some of my marvellously amusing ideas that you may in fact steal.

Making the jester sing karaoke of your favourite songs (especially if they don't know it so they kinda have to make it up as they go).

Have them do an improvised stand up comedy routine, and don't laugh at anything.

Make the jester juggle.

Make the jester preform a dance for you in a style of your choice.

If they play an instrument, have the jester preform songs for you

If you play an instrument they cannot play, have the jester TRY and preform songs for you

Make the jester put on a one man show

Make the jester freestyle to a YouTube rap beat

Make the jester try and do cartwheels, somersaults, or other low risk gymnastics

Make the jester write a sonnet in your image and read it out as dramatically as possible.

make the jester read a novel to you while maintaining the voices of each character.

Make the jester give a lap dance or makeshift pole dance

Really just get creative about it. I don't know, something about having a sub "clown around" to amuse you even if it makes them override their own dignity and truly embarrass themselves for your amusement.

You know what I would actually be obsessed with as a domme? A jester. I need me a jester. The clown outfit, although appreciated, is not mandatory whatsoever.

I would adore having a scene where my submissive is made to entertain me for a few hours entirely unsexually. I'd get them to do an array of tasks, some because I know they're good at them and enjoy doing them and some because they have zero experience whatsoever and will make an utter fool of themselves for me. I want to see the sub flicker between light, joy, and whimsy in their eyes when they can show me a skill they have mastered, and the humiliation all over their face when they are made to do something that utterly humbles them.

For those who would also enjoy a little bit of jesting around, here are some of my marvellously amusing ideas that you may in fact steal.

Making the jester sing karaoke of your favourite songs (especially if they don't know it so they kinda have to make it up as they go).

Have them do an improvised stand up comedy routine, and don't laugh at anything.

Make the jester juggle.

Make the jester preform a dance for you in a style of your choice.

If they play an instrument, have the jester preform songs for you

If you play an instrument they cannot play, have the jester TRY and preform songs for you

Make the jester put on a one man show

Make the jester freestyle to a YouTube rap beat

Make the jester try and do cartwheels, somersaults, or other low risk gymnastics

Make the jester write a sonnet in your image and read it out as dramatically as possible.

make the jester read a novel to you while maintaining the voices of each character.

Make the jester give a lap dance or makeshift pole dance

Really just get creative about it. I don't know, something about having a sub "clown around" to amuse you even if it makes them override their own dignity and truly embarrass themselves for your amusement.

🎀Hey cuties! This is a short one but after a long night of endless pleasure I decided to capture my last orgasm of the night for you all! I really hope you enjoy!

The sound effects are in fact real, and I hope you enjoy hearing your subby girl loose all control x

Listen here: https://hotaudio.net/u/Goldiebonds/Fucking-Myself-to-Sleep

🎀Hey cuties! This is a short one but after a long night of endless pleasure I decided to capture my last orgasm of the night for you all! I really hope you enjoy!

The sound effects are in fact real, and I hope you enjoy hearing your subby girl loose all control x

Listen here: https://hotaudio.net/u/Goldiebonds/Fucking-Myself-to-Sleep

So, after discussing with my mistress, she gave me permission to share this little story with her from last week! 🤍

For context—I am not the kind of person you expect to be kinky, but I am far more into it than the average person. When you become my friend it gets more apparent, and because it is a big part of my identity it is something I’m very open about discussing with those I’m really good friends with! But upon first glance you would not expect it. I’m a scholarship university student, good grades, a little ditzy and very social. I do have a flirty personality however not in the way that screams “I have submissives!”.

One of my subs is also my domme (switch4switch) and on the day of this story she was very much feeling dominant. She had been teasing me all day as I say in my university library and studied. She was really trying to get the better of me. Sending flirty messages, nudes, voice messages. It got to a point where I was going insane. That’s when she told me to go to the bathroom. Hesitantly I left all my things and scurried through the hallway to the single room bathroom with my Mary Jane heels clicking on the ground in a hurry.

When I locked the door she told me to touch myself.

I was mortified, I have never and never thought I ever would do something so debasing in a place like this. My legs were shaking and despite all of my desire to hold my ground she had beaten any amount of restraint I had left. I swallowed hard and let my hand trace up my thigh as I slid it between them, softly rubbing my clit. Honestly, I assumed she just wanted me to tease, after all it was such a risky location and at the end of the day she knows just how loud I can get. When she told me to speed up I did, swallowing my pride alongside the whines that threatened to escape. She kept calling me her puppy, her doll, her disgusting filthy slut. And that’s when I really couldn’t help it anymore. I stood up and washed my hands. I looked at the corner of the room. My heart dropped as I felt my body move without my minds permission. She was sending me voice messages now of her sadistic smooth voice, driving me up the wall with desire.

“You’re such a pretty puppy” she whispered as she touched herself. I couldn’t fucking help it. Puppies hump, don’t they?

With a great feeling of shame fueled lust I got on the floor and began to grind against it. Humping is my favourite method to please myself. I sent her a photo and an audio recording of me trying my very hardest to keep my voice down and she only responded with laughter. The sound of her amusement was utterly humiliating and it felt like I had no choice but to go faster and faster. Tears brimmed in my eyes with shame but I couldn’t stop. My dignity was fighting to hold on, but when put under her command it’s just feeble. So I came.

I came from humping the bathroom floor.

I seriously don’t know if I’ve been more embarrassed in my life; the raw and utter need I have to please this woman has to be studied.

After that I had to go right to my calculus lecture, washing up and grabbing my things, hurrying across campus with a flushed face and hard nipples. I kept silent the whole lecture, knowing if I said any words it would just come out as a pathetic stutter or whine. I had fallen into subspace and there was no way to get out of it.

(And yes, of course she teased me through the class to the point I had to go on DND because the little notifications at the top of my laptop screen had me going feral for her.)

Anyways, that was my little story, hope you enjoyed! 🎀

- Goldie xx

So, after discussing with my mistress, she gave me permission to share this little story with her from last week! 🤍

For context—I am not the kind of person you expect to be kinky, but I am far more into it than the average person. When you become my friend it gets more apparent, and because it is a big part of my identity it is something I’m very open about discussing with those I’m really good friends with! But upon first glance you would not expect it. I’m a scholarship university student, good grades, a little ditzy and very social. I do have a flirty personality however not in the way that screams “I have submissives!”.

One of my subs is also my domme (switch4switch) and on the day of this story she was very much feeling dominant. She had been teasing me all day as I say in my university library and studied. She was really trying to get the better of me. Sending flirty messages, nudes, voice messages. It got to a point where I was going insane. That’s when she told me to go to the bathroom. Hesitantly I left all my things and scurried through the hallway to the single room bathroom with my Mary Jane heels clicking on the ground in a hurry.

When I locked the door she told me to touch myself.

I was mortified, I have never and never thought I ever would do something so debasing in a place like this. My legs were shaking and despite all of my desire to hold my ground she had beaten any amount of restraint I had left. I swallowed hard and let my hand trace up my thigh as I slid it between them, softly rubbing my clit. Honestly, I assumed she just wanted me to tease, after all it was such a risky location and at the end of the day she knows just how loud I can get. When she told me to speed up I did, swallowing my pride alongside the whines that threatened to escape. She kept calling me her puppy, her doll, her disgusting filthy slut. And that’s when I really couldn’t help it anymore. I stood up and washed my hands. I looked at the corner of the room. My heart dropped as I felt my body move without my minds permission. She was sending me voice messages now of her sadistic smooth voice, driving me up the wall with desire.

“You’re such a pretty puppy” she whispered as she touched herself. I couldn’t fucking help it. Puppies hump, don’t they?

With a great feeling of shame fueled lust I got on the floor and began to grind against it. Humping is my favourite method to please myself. I sent her a photo and an audio recording of me trying my very hardest to keep my voice down and she only responded with laughter. The sound of her amusement was utterly humiliating and it felt like I had no choice but to go faster and faster. Tears brimmed in my eyes with shame but I couldn’t stop. My dignity was fighting to hold on, but when put under her command it’s just feeble. So I came.

I came from humping the bathroom floor.

I seriously don’t know if I’ve been more embarrassed in my life; the raw and utter need I have to please this woman has to be studied.

After that I had to go right to my calculus lecture, washing up and grabbing my things, hurrying across campus with a flushed face and hard nipples. I kept silent the whole lecture, knowing if I said any words it would just come out as a pathetic stutter or whine. I had fallen into subspace and there was no way to get out of it.

(And yes, of course she teased me through the class to the point I had to go on DND because the little notifications at the top of my laptop screen had me going feral for her.)

Anyways, that was my little story, hope you enjoyed! 🎀

- Goldie xx