I'm as cunning as the lady's yellow toadstool.

I'll tell you what. This is Konnichiwa. Annyeonghaseyo. What are you doing? This story of mine is complementary to what Domme Tufão reported on her profile in: My mind is falling apart. I highly recommend it should be read BEFORE and it will be easily found on her profile. So go there first to enjoy the experience in all its angles and aspects. I expect you to come back here. I 'm sorry . Now that you've read my lady's version, it's me, the bitch slave who'll try to express the satisfaction of serving the wonderful Lord Typhoon. As a good yellow dog that I wish to be, I have sought to give my total dedication and obedience to the commands of my Black Goddess, mistress of my body, my soul and my thoughts. On Wednesday, 11/12/24, during a video call, the Goddess instructed me to put on the shortest dress I had, the smallest and tightest underwear, not to wear a bra, and to put on a collar. I should go to a mall and walk around, Laying me out like a juicy mango in a closet to see if anyone would try to open me up and suck me dry. Like a little puppy in heat my answer was immediately "yes, ma'am". She, with her benevolent affection and care, still asked attentively if that would be a problem. "No, my Lady, mistress of me, no problem, but a great pleasure, irrigator, goddess of my existence". My choice was a dark lace gown, which closes around the neck like a fabric collar and a lace panties in the front and stranded thread in the back. It was the fairest and shortest I had. Still elegant and with a subtle transparency. The shoe with the red detail matched the lipstick on my mouth. Make-up for the day, but with the same whim and style I use as a stewardess and not something casual. I saw myself in the mirror, happy little bitch. I couldn't resist and went to show off for the Goddess. I wanted to make a good impression and make her proud of her yellow dog. On the video call, I showed off my petite figure by modeling that dark dress glued onto me, in contrast to my white skin and lipstick-red lips. The dress almost looked like an extension of my hair, because of the color, as if I was wearing it as a garment to cover my pale nakedness. The summarized sandwich, which was my panties, was practically eating my butt, with its thread properly placed deep between my buttocks. I received the approval and compliments of my mistress, and I was overjoyed to have succeeded in satisfying her in my humble and inferior form. The Goddess ordered me to go to the mall and notify her as soon as I arrived. I said, "Yes, ma'am, as soon as I get there, I'll get in touch with my mistress". I made a big effort not to touch a siren right there in the hotel room before I went shopping, with my mouth watering, my nipples stiffening and my ass flashing. I parked the car at the mall and called Domme Tufão again. Then she gives me her new orders: "Puppy, I want you to walk the mall corridors, parade, and know that everyone is seeing a show-off puppy, a puppy being exposed for its Domme. Walk up all the floors and then go to the ladies' room and contact your Domme. I was trembling with excitement and fear like never before. The phone was swaying in my hand. My walk through the halls has not gone without some foreseeable effect. The fabric of the dress shaped my hips and clung to my small but firm breasts. My nipples were projecting in prominent relief. My panties were nothing more than a rag soaked in my vaginal juice. I tried not to look at people, but even so it was blatant that many of them were focused on me mostly, of course, men. If it wasn't for the perception that my clothes, although excessively sexy, were equally "class", "brand", "chic", I would have already been approached by the security guards and put out as a common whore. I was embodying the role of a ravishing young whore, perhaps, in their minds, the young, exotic wife of some "figure". The few men who, being alone, came to me timidly, until they took it easy. But at one point, I got surrounded on all four sides by guys asking me to do a show with all of them. They must have thought I was a high-end escort or something. But they acted in a crazy way. They cornered me until I could sneak into the ladies' room. I even think they had the intention of pushing me into the men's room with them, only I escaped in time. They acted in a discreet way, in a certain way, so that the passersby and the security guards wouldn't notice so obviously what was going on. They came right up to me, one at a time, to say something, make a suggestion, try to touch me, and one or two took pictures of my butt and tried my face. I made another video call to my mistress and gave a cursory account, without the details, for fear that someone else might overhear if I walked in there at that moment. She, sensing my excitement, ordered me to take off my panties and touch me right there until I reached orgasm. Obedient to the Goddess, and overflowing with horniness, I positioned my cell phone so that she could gaze as I stuck two fingers into the bottom of my foaming-wet little tub. I would make funny little noises as I moved my fingers in a wet, frantic syringe, as if I was satisfying intense hunger or thirst. I moaned softly, well muffled, but mad with a desire to scream. All this situation, risk and restraint has accumulated into a sensational delight. I mentally imagined those men wanting to grab me and what they might have done to me if they had managed to drag me into the men's room. I came to wish that they had succeeded and to regret that they had not had more courage and stopped me from escaping. I spat a river, so intense that it was my orgasm, thinking about those things and how my goddess would be proud of me. When I mentioned getting paper to wipe myself, my mistress said no and that I should get out and go to my car with my juices running down my legs. Although still a little scared, I just loved the idea. I just licked the two fingers that I stuck in my bouquet to sip my own juice. Moreover she commanded me: "When you come out of the bathroom, take your panties and throw them in the entrance of the men's bathroom. I want some dog to take your panties and smell my bitch. I want him to dream about you, but the one who will eat you will be me, your Lord Typhoon". To me that was almost a declaration of love. And so I did. Sticking my head out of the closet, I noticed that it looked like I was alone in the ladies' room. He came out of the bathroom and I confirmed that the group of men had already dispersed. I walked very slowly and on the outside, firm and convinced while on the inside, feeling that my little heart was going to burst into my chest. Holding her panties in my hand, I kissed her to try to leave a lipstick mark and threw her into the men's room towards the floor itself. On my way back from the bathroom to the parking lot, I walked through the mall slowly and rolling a little more than my normal pace, wanting to provoke, to be noticed, to be seen, to be appreciated. I stopped at the food court and grabbed a simple ice cream for myself to lick as I walked around like a cat. Finished the ice cream I walked and licking my fingers again, only now in public and the same fingers that I had stuck in my bucket in the bathroom. To the glory of Dom Tufan I displayed myself as his property, his tramp, his bitch, his little Japanese-Korean whore. I still went down one floor in the elevator, with two men inside and me in that short, glued-on dress, no bra and panties, breathing out the smell of dog poop in the heat. I stood with my back to the men, checking my makeup in the elevator mirror. I wished they would attack me right there. I would have easily yielded at that moment to any advances from either of you. But they were civilized, and the elevator doors just opened for us to go down. When I got in the car, I took a deep breath and made another video call to my lady. After receiving your instructions, I drove very slowly back to the hotel in my rented car. I've been touching myself the whole way. I lifted my dress up to my waist and did not care about any car, motorcycle, or bus that passed or stopped at the traffic light next to me. Often I would expose one of my breasts for a moment. Sometimes I'd leave it exposed for a little bit longer. I took a longer route. I got more traffic. It took me longer to get here and I spent more time showing off the bitch I am. To glorify the goddess of my boner. Going up to the room, after I'd caused a bit of a stir at the reception, a couple and three men shared the elevator space with me. There was some proximity and he even rolled a contact. I didn't see who it was, but one of the men put his hand on my ass, lightly enough, but enough to make me shiver and have to hold myself back so I wouldn't let out a whimper of surprise. In the bedroom, I made the last video call, still fully dressed. I was ordered by my mistress to get naked and pick up the toys. She wanted to use and abuse me mainly my little hole with little time of use. I followed your orders and rubbed the console on my bouquet to anoint it with my own natural lubrication. I would run the whole length of the console through my damp crack, concentrating well on the head, almost making it penetrate me. After doing this a few times, I stood up and stuck the end of this replacement stick into the entrance of my kitchen and was pushing, forcing myself inside and severely opening my folds. I could feel every inch of that dildo entering my ass and I didn't stop for anything until it was all inserted into my body. I screamed my head off. I sighed, I sweated coldly, and I groaned loudly and loudly. My wonderful Goddess then commands me to use the vibrator on my hungry little bowl. I can only thank you for the extraordinary pleasure of playing with the vibrator on my nightstand while the dildo was all hooked up inside my fragile pink ass. I writhed in bed under the eyes of my mistress, who watched my indulgence in lust and debauchery. I fantasized that it was her hands that touched me and that it was she who had ruthlessly shoved the dildo up my ass and played in my little pussy while I was tied up and helpless yet all open and eager for the pleasure of being one of her bitches. The little yellow dog, so small and insignificant, being hounded by the Great Wolf, my Goddess of Thirst, my Lady Domme Tufão. All that's left is for my little body to deliver a seizure as a joke. I was in a fetal position for a few moments, with that dildo all up my ass, the vibrator in my pocket and sucking my own thumb. I dedicated my orgasm entirely to the Goddess, because it was from her that it emanated and burst into my little body, now almost faint, inert, but pulsating, moist and vibrating inside. After all that, my trembling hand ran down my butt until it reached the base of the dildo. I began to pull him very slowly to enjoy every inch of him moving inside my anal orifice. I looked towards the screen of the mobile phone and I could contemplate the most beautiful sight which was the contented smile of my mistress. I was erasing, feeling a smile on my face, feeling fulfilled, loving to play and being a toy. Being whore, object and yellow dog of the Black Goddess Domme Tufão. I don't know. Domo arigatogozaimasu. What are you doing here? You guys.