Don't you believe me?

Everybody has a story to tell. It might not necessarily be an interesting one but there is always a story. Life experiences, good and bad, always build up the memories that fill our past. And as a publisher and ghost writer of biographies it's my job to go through the memories of celebrities and write something we both hope will be engaging to the public. After all, it benefits both myself and the celebrity in question if it's a huge hit.

I don't always know if the information I'm told is correct. And when the memories involve other people there is always the risk of litigation if it turns out to be untrue. But that's part of the risk I take. Some of the celebrities I've written for have been absolutely crazy. Some have been so fake it should be criminal.

Then there's this celebrity. The one who destroyed me. Mentally and physically. How did it happen? Why did it happen? Well let me tell you…..

I had taken on an assignment to ghost write the autobiography for a female rapper in the early 2000's. At 28 I was still learning my craft and eagerly took on this assignment. Even though the woman in question ‘Sis Rich’ was only 24 herself. I was a bit surprised that someone so young had lived a fulfilling enough life to have even been able to fill 100 pages let alone the 450 or so I was tasked to write. But I hadn't taken into consideration how hard it was to get recognised within the industry she worked within.

I walked up to her mansion and noticed the color pink everywhere. She clearly had an affinity towards this color. And when I was let in by one of her minions I was completely unsuspecting of what the day would eventually lead to.

I was led towards her study and as I walked in she was sitting behind a mahogany desk. She took one look at me and rolled her eyes.

‘Fuck sake I asked for a brother to write this. Not some Momma’s boy.’ I uneasily sat down on the chair opposite her and got out my laptop and notepad. I tried not to react as I didn't want to lose my job before I had even started. It paid handsomely!

‘Who the fuck are you?’ She asked nonchalantly, almost uninterested in my response.

‘Tyler Davins ma'am.’

‘Do you even know who I am? Do you even listen to my music?’ She was taking the offensive straight away.

‘I've heard of you ma'am, but I am unfamiliar with your music.’ I answered honestly.

‘Then you best listen to this song of mine. It's called boot bitch.’ She pressed play on the stereo and put the third son on. I listened to the song and quite frankly it petrified me. She was rapping about how she always kicks men in the balls when she's wearing pink boots.

As the song finished she put both her feet up on the desk. My eyes widened in alarm as I saw she was wearing a pair of pink leather platform thigh high boots. She laughed as she watched my discomfort.

‘I didn't suck cocks to get where I am, Mr Writer man. I kicked, kneed and stomped my way to the top baby. And boy have I got some epic fucking stories.’ I gulped. The panic was beginning to set in. She began putting on some pink leather gloves.

‘Why don't you come over here for a closer look Mr Writer.’ She beckoned me over with her fingers.

‘It's not an option bitch……it's an order.’ The anger and malice in her voice told me not to anger her. If I didn't need this job I'd have walked out then and there.

I slowly stood up and walked over to her side of the desk. I stopped in front of her boots, my crotch inches away from the sole of her boots.

‘Have a touch, tell me Mr Writer, how do they feel? Ever been dominated by a bad bitch and her boots before?’ I slowly with trembling hands began caressing her boots. She had thick calves and thighs and these boots fitted like a glove to her shapely legs. I felt my cock growing harder as I suddenly felt like I was hypnotized by her whole personality.

‘Didn't I ask you a question?’ She snapped me back to reality.

‘S-s-sorry, they feel soft and amazing. Urm no I've never been dominated before. Don't intend to personally.’ I tried to sound confident.

‘Hahahaha, they won't feel soft when they smash into your balls continuously Mr Writer.’ She began laughing. Suddenly the whole dynamic changed. Her finger pressed a button on the desk locking the door behind me. She stood up and her relaxed demeanor had changed to one more pressing and forceful.

‘How about you just do what I say and I'll respect you more for it. I hate it when I have to beat the resistance out of em before they listen to me.’ I nodded my head. She stood beside me slowly undoing the belt on my denims. She was a few inches smaller than me still even in her heels but she had complete power over me at that moment.

I just stood there as she pulled my denims and underwear down to my ankles. My cock had stiffened up and was now erect as she took it into her hand and wrapped her fingers around it.

‘Mmmmmmmm, I do love an obedient slut.’ Her hand slowly began stroking my cock as she took my balls into her other hand. She had asserted her complete dominance over me in a matter of seconds. Reflecting back she had me captivated from the first time I walked into the room.

I felt her fingers tighten on my balls as she slowly stroked my cock closer and closer to the edge.

‘Please stop, you've made your point. I don't want this, please.’ I begged her to stop. I had no wish to be dominated. I just wanted to write her fucking biography.

She looked up at me with anger burning from her Hazel eyes. She didn't say a word but her look said it all. Her hand that gripped on my balls tightened as she continued her gloved handjob. The pain suddenly began creeping up on me. First it was an uncomfortable pressure, now it was beginning to feel like a sharp but dull ache.

‘Please, stop. What is the point of this? Please.’ I begged as I felt myself being edged to orgasm. My balls were beginning to ache really bad. The pain was intense and deep down I knew even with her tightening her grip, she was barely using her strength at all. And here I was standing in front of her in a heap of pain and yet feeling a pleasure so intense I had never felt like this before. I didn't know whether I wanted this to continue or end.

Her hand began stroking my cock quicker and quicker and as I was coming to the point of no return she suddenly squeezed my balls so hard my legs buckled and gave way. I fell onto the floor on my ass as she pushed me backwards to avoid falling on her. As I screamed in agony at the sudden sharp excruciating pain in my balls I felt my cock releasing it's load. To my horror Sis Rich had timed it to perfection. My cum suddenly landed, as she continued to milk me dry, all over her boots.

‘Now you see Mr Writer, you'll have to be punished for that. No one cums on my boots without expecting retribution.’ I gasped as the pleasure died away and I was left with nothing but pain in my balls. It was now clear to me the pleasure had masked the true pain I was now feeling. I groaned as I took in what she had said.

I didn't even get a chance to respond before she issued her next demand.

‘Lick your fucking mess clean from my boots. NOW!’ I jumped onto my hands and knees and began licking my salty mess up from her boots.

‘Slower, bitch, slower.’ She demanded as I slowed my licking down. I felt humiliated. The pleasure wasn't worth this degradation. I was beginning to see how she had actually dominated her way to the top.

It felt like it took forever before I finally finished cleaning her boots and by this time I had felt my cock getting harder and harder. I clearly had a boot fetish I didn't even realize was this intense until now.

‘Lay on your back Mr Writer. Now I need to show you how I get business done.’ I thought this was a strange turn of phrase but as I lay down on my back she had stood over me.

‘Spread those fucking legs.’ I didn't dare disobey and as soon as they were spread she lifted her left boot up high and stomped them down hard on my already delicate balls. I screamed aloud as I tried desperately to remove her boot from my balls. But the strength within me had completely disappeared. I had no ability to even move her boot an inch.

‘Now ya seeing how I worked my way up. You see Mr Writer, from this position a guy would pretty much do anything to get me to stop. And when I do this, they're catatonic with desperation.’ She began grinding my delicate balls underneath her boot. I felt the pressure she was applying slowly ramping up as well. My cock was still hard so my balls were even more tender. The pain was unbearable. My hands were now tapping on her boots in submission completely. She just laughed as she continued to build up the pressure on my balls.

Ten agonizing minutes of this continued as she somehow managed to apply even more pressure whilst continuing to grind my balls into even more pain than I thought imaginable. I had stopped touching her boots by now and my hands were uselessly by my side unable to even move an inch. My cock had stayed hard somehow and as she continued her assault on me in silence I wondered whether she would ever stop.

‘Mr Writer, you best cum soon, otherwise you'll have no balls left.’ She laughed at her own joke as I felt delirious through the pain. The sweat mixed with my tears tasted salty on my lips as I begged myself internally to just cum. I didn't want to lose my balls.

With one last crunching grind of my balls I finally cum all over my chest. Wave after wave of cum spilled out of my cock and it was a full minute before Sis Rich finally stopped grinding my balls as I was milked dry by her boot.

‘I ain't ever seen this much cum before. Especially from someone who had already shot his load out. You must have enjoyed that a lil too much Mr Writer. Looks like we'll have to do that again sometime.’ She laughed as she stepped off my balls. I couldn't move. I was barely conscious. The pain was so bad I could still feel tears running down my face. Now I believed truly how she had worked her way to the top of the rap chain.

She got down on her knees and hitched her skirt up as she sat down on the cum that covered my chest. She slowly twerked her ass all over my chest with her bare cheeks.

She then placed her legs on each side of my head before resting her ass just in front of my face.

‘Lick your mess off my ass Mr Writer. You earned this lil reward.’ I slowly began licking her ass cheeks removing my cum from each of them. I had no energy left so it took me longer than I'd have liked. But once she was satisfied she finally got up and sat back down on the other side of the desk as she patiently waited for me to finally recover.

Twenty minutes later I had managed to pull my denims back on and sit back down opposite her.

‘Now Mr Writer. When I tell you the stories I have, you'll believe me now?’ She licked her lips taunting me a little.

‘I have to remind you about litigation for false stories though. It's my duty.’ I cautiously replied.

‘I understand completely. I'll tell you what. When I tell you each story, I will reenact it for you. But as you'll be the only man present, I'll have to demonstrate it on you and your balls.’ She laughed as she saw the color drain from my face.

‘Outsmarted you haven't I, Mr Writer. Well, can't say I'm not looking forward to the next few months.’ She was now laughing hysterically.

‘FEW MONTH'S!’ I shouted barely able to hide the surprise in my shout.

‘I'm gonna enjoy every fucking second of it too Mr Writer.’ She replied, the smile leaving her face.

‘Every. Fucking. Second.’ Fuck, I had well and truly been trapped.