EXTRACT FOR
FemDomme Punishes The Burglar With Facesitting Ballbusting
(Scarlett Steele)

Elise wasn't about getting in anybody's business, keeping to herself mostly, because it was just easier that way. She was in her early twenties, and she lived in a house that was so far beyond her years, and beyond the grasp of observers, that rumors had started to surface. But these rumors were so far removed from the truth, that Elise really didn't mind them at all. She actually enjoyed hearing about herself in passing, from people who really had no idea who she was. 



The rumor mill was rife in town, but it was very, very wrong. At least when it came to her. 



There were stories of old money passed from generation to generation. The people who spread the rumor, this particular one at least, didn't even care about filling in the details. Coloring it seemed so unnecessary, when the meat of the matter was just so juicy. It wasn't clear even who had started this rumor, but it started shortly after the so-close-to-twenty-it-was-sickening young woman moved into the old mansion of Walnut. It actually started days after, when it was clear that nobody else would be moving into the house except for the young, beautiful, incredibly alluring Elise Stewart. 



The story went that she was an heiress, who had been disinherited by her family. However, to save face, they gave her just enough money so that her new lifestyle wouldn't bring the family into disrepute. Now, how it was possible for anybody to come up with so colorful a tale was really outside of the ambit of Elise's reasoning, but when she took into consideration where she heard it, it made sense to her in a funny sort of way. She really had no choice but to find it amusing, because it really was just the beginning of a barrage of stories about her that would surface. 



She was in the showers at the country club, a membership she has since relinquished just because the women there were really not her cup of anything, when she first got wind of this theory about her life. The woman spreading the rumor was Sandra von Helmsley, also in her early twenties, married to local property tycoon Seth von Helmsley, who was thirty years her senior. Elise remembered thinking that she was a fine one to talk, when she was the butt end of many jokes in that very country club. But it really was none of Elise's business, and so she just stayed in the shower cubicle and listened.    



The content of the story didn't bother Elise. She knew that she was bound to cause a stir, as she had in the last two towns where she lived. This one, she thought, would be no different. Why would it be, when she knew that she presented a whole lot of questions, and not too many answers? So no, she really didn't care about the content of the rumors she inspired. It was a part of the territory, an occupational hazard, if you will. 



What bothered Elise, more than she even cared to admit to herself, was the enthusiasm with which Sandra told the story. It was as though she were giving a factual account of the news, and it was as though, no matter how you tried, nobody could refute that what she was saying was nothing but the absolute truth. A simple google search of her name would of course reveal that this story was not true, but nobody was about to conduct said search. Everybody just lapped up the story, adding their own interesting addendums to this script that was carefully constructed in the mind of Mrs. Von Helmsley.