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A Slave's Story

By: mistress_diana



My name is Dee and I am 26 years old. This is the story of how I became the slave of Mistress Diana. 

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Mike and I had only worked a month when we took our first business trip together. It was pretty uneventful and I was glad when we were headed out of the airport. We shared a cab as we only blocks away. During the ride he asked me if I wanted to stop by his apartment for a drink. At first I was taken aback since I hadn't known him that long and it was only professionally. Then I figured, what the hell. I had nothing I had to do when I got home.

The sky was looking dark and angry when we got out of the cab and headed up the steps. The storm was rolling in fast. I felt a bit anxious, not liking thunder and lightning. We hurried inside and climbed the stairs to his apartment.

It was nice place - cozy but not small. He had windows that faced the river and the skyline. There was a balcony as well. I sat on the leather couch next to the window and relaxed.

"What can I get you?" he asked.

"Gin and tonic, if you have it."

"No problem."

I watched him go over to the bar and mix us some drinks. As the first rumbles started in the distance I let my eyes wander over his body. He was of medium height with dark hair and dark eyes. His hair was a little long, but acceptable enough for the office. I had a weakness for long hair. His body looked as if he worked out. I could see the muscles under his white shirt. When he turned around, I gazed at a nice, tight ass.

I snapped out of it wondering where those thoughts were coming from. I knew it to be lack of sex in a big way. I sighed and took the drink from his hand as he sat down. The TV went on and we watched the news as the storm got closer.

We didn't say much, opting to relax and unwind from the trip we had. The drink started to go to my head and I wondered where the evening was going. The storm was pretty close and each clap of thunder got me a bit edgy. Mike noticed it.

"What another drink? I can see you don't like storms."

I nodded and held out my glass. It was almost full dark by now. I put on a light and looked for the bathroom. Once inside I calmed myself and fixed my face in the mirror. Just I opened the door there was a huge crash of thunder and the lights went out. 

I let out a short scream and instantly felt like a fool.

"Dee, are you ok?" I heard him yell from down the hall.

"Y-yes," I stammered. I fumbled back to the main room and saw him standing there in the gloom. I was shaking a bit. He noticed that as well.

"It's ok, Dee. Really." He stepped over to me and stood before me. One hand reached out and stroked my hair. Feeling the affects of only one drink, I let him do it. It felt really good.

His hand reached down and caressed the side of my cheek. I closed my eyes as a chill went all through my body. Then he pulled me close to him and kissed me hard on the mouth. The force of it scared and thrilled me at the same time. Before I knew it, my lips parted and his tongue was in. His warm hands were sliding down my back to grip my ass. He pulled me closer to him and I could feel his hardness. I began to get very excited, but I held back. It was so sudden.

After a minute or two of groping he pulled away. I could see his cock was getting very hard now. The thought of if sent a little spasm of pleasure down to my pussy. He began to unbutton my blouse. I stood very still as he did it, liking the feeling of being in his control. He unbuttoned it all the way down to the waistline of my skirt and then he pushed it back on my shoulders. Next he slid my bra straps down my shoulders as well. I sucked in my breath as he pulled down the cups of my bra just enough to let my 36 D's stick out. I felt vulnerable but very horny.

I stood there without a word as he rubbed my nipples. I could tell my submission was turning him on and I went with it. He bent his head and took one in his mouth and began to lick, then suck, then bite very gently. I let my head tilt back and a soft moan escaped me. This made him bite harder and it felt like heaven. I could feel myself get hotter by the minute. He switched to the other nipple and did the same thing. As he sucked, I felt his hand go up and under my skirt to feel my dripping wet box. He groaned in approval and released me.

I was panting as I watched him remove his clothes. When he slid off his boxers, his cock was standing right up and it was a beautiful size. I knew I had to have it in me. He lay down on the couch and motioned for me to get on top. Still wearing my clothes (somewhat), I pulled my pantyhose down as well as my panties and hiked my skirt up. I climbed on top of him and let his cock go the full length of me. I was so wet, I just slid down on top of him.

Mike thrust his hips up again and again as we fucked. I leaned over so he could grab my tits and pull on the nipples. Every time he did, it sent wave after wave of pleasure through me. I knew I was close to coming. Sensing it, he gave a good push and I let out a long moan as my orgasm took me. I could feel my pussy grip his cock tightly. That was all he needed and with that he came inside me. I looked down at his face while he did that and I knew I wanted to fuck this man again.

A couple of days went by before I saw him again. It was late in the day and I was starting to pack up my laptop for another night of work. I seemed to be constantly behind in everything. About 5:30 I heard Mike's voice outside my office. He was talking to one of my staff. They were discussing some hockey game. I tensed up slightly thinking about our last encounter. After we fucked that night, I went home feeling kind of weird about everything. I wasn't sure what was going to happen after that - he didn't talk to me about it. I just got dressed and went home.

Mike wound up his conversation and walked into my office and shut the door. I looked up at him.

"You look good tonight, Dee," he said, smiling.

I laughed nervously.

"No really. Come over here."

I got up and went over to him. He looked just as sexy and appealing as he did the other night. I started to feel anxious, but in a good way, if that is possible. No sooner than I got close to him then he pulled me close to him and started kissing me. His hands went right to my ass and cupped it firmly. As his tongue went to work, I cared little as to where I was and the fact that people would be around. I wanted him again.

His hands left my ass and went around to my breasts. He squeezed them gently and began to work on my nipples. I wanted nothing than for him to suck on them again. But he was in control. Slowly he pushed my sweater up and over my breasts. Then he began to suck on my nipple through the silk fabric of my bra. I felt myself getting very wet. Then he pushed the bra up as well to expose me as he did the other night. Both nipples felt extremely sensitive from the other night's sucking and biting, but I still wanted his mouth there.

"suck me...." I breathed.

He laughed and told me to turn around and go and face my desk. I complied and stood there to see what he had in store. 

"Pull up your skirt."

I pulled it up and held it. He slid my hose down and I stepped out of it. Next he pulled my panties down. I felt his hands slide up my legs and then he began to lick my ass cheeks. It felt wonderful. He licked and licked until I practically came right there. Next he slid his finger into my wet pussy and rubbed my clit for just an instant. The sensation caused me to take a sharp breath.

Satisfied that I was aroused enough, he undid the zipper on his pants. In seconds I felt his hard cock nudging at my pussy lips.

"Lean forward," he whispered. 

I leaned over the desk and he thrust himself inside me. He grasped my ass and started to pump away at me. My breasts hung down over the desk and every thrust caused my hardened nipples to rub against the hard surface. I wanted to scream out in pleasure, but I remembered where I was. Within no time I heard him grunt and then he came inside me. I wasn't all the way there yet but he pulled out of me. I let out a long sigh and turned around.

"I, I, didn't come," I stammered.

He didn't care at that point. He was cleaning up and re-arranging his clothes. 

"You should get dressed. Someone might come in," he said.

I looked at him and disbelief. What an asshole, I thought. I got dressed as he watched me. I was getting angry but there wasn't much I could do. When I was done he finally spoke.

"If you want more of that, then come over to my house tomorrow night. Around 8."

He left without another word and I slumped down in my chair knowing I would be there.

True to my word, I showed up at his apartment the next night. It was a Saturday, so I wasn't worried about getting into work the next day. When I got there he offered me a drink and we sat on the couch and talked about whatever - mostly work. Nothing was said about our previous 'encounters'. He also seemed a bit tense but I didn't ask. After I felt pretty loosened up, I was half-expecting him to make a move when I heard the key rattle in the lock and the door opened. A tall, stunning woman stood there and smiled at us.

Mike stood up and went over and kissed her. I was pretty dumb-struck at that moment. The girlfriend!

"Dee, this is Diane," he said, introducing me. I noticed he didn't say girlfriend, but either way I felt really strange all of a sudden. I stammered a hello and excused myself to go onto the balcony, as I sudden felt kind of lightheaded.

I stood out there for some time finishing my drink and wondering what the hell was going on. I felt pretty used. I didn't want to come between Mike and Diane as it looked pretty obvious they were a couple. I did find it weird that she didn't seem surprised or upset I was there. I pondered that awhile and decided to go back in and leave.

When I walked back in I wasn't prepared for what I saw: Diane was lying on the couch, skirt hiked up and Mike's face was between her legs slurping away at her pussy. Both were oblivious to me standing there. I stood and watched Diane moaning and squirming in ecstasy. Mike had his back to me, but Diane had full view of me. Eventually she opened her eyes and looked at me. Seeing me standing there she smiled and pushed up her top. She had no bra on and her breasts spilled out into full view. Never losing her fix on me, she started to pull on her nipples until they hardened. I didn't know what else to do and I found myself mesmerized by her. Soon Mike's licking brought her to an orgasm and she let out a long, low moan. I realized I was getting wet watching everything, but I felt somewhat sickened by the display.

Mike sat up and turned around to look at me.

"Did you like watching, Dee?" he asked in a low voice.

"I, I'm not sure..."

Diane smiled and stood up, fixing her clothes.

"I think you liked it," she purred. "And you want to participate yourself, don't you?"

I found myself not sure what I wanted. I knew I went over there so I could feel Mike's cock inside me again. But now with Diane in the picture everything had changed.

Diane didn't wait for me to say anything more. She walked over and took my hand and led me to the bedroom. Once the three of us were inside, she shut the door.

"Ok, from now on, you're doing what we say? Do you understand?" she asked.

I nodded, not sure what she was getting at.

"Good," she said as she sat on the bed. "Stand before me and take off your clothes."

Finally, it all hit me and I realized what was going to happen. I was somewhat nervous, but the wetness between my legs told me that I really wanted this. I pulled off my T-shirt and dropped it on the floor. Next I unzipped my shorts and let those fall. I stood there for a minute in my bra and panties. Diane nodded her approval and urged me to continue. I reached back and unhooked my bra. My breasts fell out and right away the nipples hardened from the coolness of the air conditioning. Lastly, I pulled down my panties and stepped out of them. Diane sat back to look at me.

"Very nice, indeed. I can see what you mean, Mike. You must have had a good time fucking her."

"Oh yeah..." he agreed.

Diane got off the bed and told me to lie on it. No sooner than I did that than she was tying my arms and legs down to the four corners of the bed. She leaned over me and put a blindfold on.

"Now, we aren't going to hurt you, but you must do whatever we ask you. Ok?"

I nodded somewhat uncertainly but I was still pretty excited. I lay there spread out for everyone to see and I couldn't see anything at all. I waited for something to happen.

Diane got off the bed and I heard sounds of clothing being shed. After a minute she got back on the bed and straddled me so her ass was almost in my face. I knew that because I could smell the warm scent of her pussy. I had never been with a woman, but I knew the smell. The bed sagged again as Mike joined us. I heard a sucking sound begin and realized she was sucking his cock. How I wanted to watch that. I lie there helpless as Diane's ass occasionally moved very close to my face. I heard her sucking hard and then Mike began to pant and moan, urging her on. Just when I thought he was going to cum, Diane moved away and suddenly I felt the warm feeling of cum on my belly and breasts as Mike came in several long spurts.

After a few seconds I felt a soft, velvety tongue begin to lick the cum off my belly. She did it slowly and deliberately and I began to feel my clit start to throb. She took her time making sure she didn't leave any. Eventually she moved up to my breasts where she licked them, being careful to avoid my nipples. I started to moan softly and squirm.

"You like that, don't you?" she asked.

"Yesss," I breathed.

She laughed and pulled away. A minute passed and then I heard the distinctive sound of a vibrator come on. She put it between my legs and teased my already swollen pussy with it. I pulled tightly on my bindings. I wanted nothing than to have that inside me. She sensed that and teased me even more.

"Oh please....", I gasped. "Stick it inside me."

She complied by easing it inside my pussy and she pushed until it was almost all the way in. It felt heavenly. The warm, vibrating feeling enveloped my cunt and it spread up to my hardened nipples. I wanted to explode, but I wasn't quite there yet. I knew that Mike's cock fucking me was the thing to do it, but it didn't seem like that was going to happen. Diane was in control here. She let me lie there for a bit getting used to the dildo inside me. Eventually I started to get used to it and didn't quite feel like I was on the edge of coming anymore. I started to squirm hoping the movement would get me there. What happened was I got a slap on the face. It startled me and made me cry out.

"What do you think you're doing? You can't cum yet, you little slut." she yelled.

I was totally taken aback by that, but said nothing. Clearly the power trip got her off.

"Well you can lie there for a while, then." And with that I heard them leave the room.

I wasn't sure how long I lay there with that vibrator humming away. It was a pleasant enough feeling, but I wanted more. But obviously I had to wait. I even started to doze a bit.

After a while I heard them come back in. Then I felt the blindfold being lifted. Both of them were naked and I got to gaze at her whole body. She was beautiful - long legs, small and firm ass and her breasts were probably about a 34C, with large, upturned nipples. She proceeded to get on her hands and knees over me and her face was about 3 inches from mine.

"I'm gonna let you watch Mike fuck me," she breathed. "And you might as well enjoy it, because that's the last you are gonna see his cock tonight, sweetie."

Mike got on the bed and took her from behind, doggie-style. He began to pump away at her and I watched her breasts sway back and forth with each thrust. She lowered herself so that her breasts brushed against mine. The sensation brought new waves of pleasure through me. It was quite a feeling having her tits rubbing against mine. I started to feel myself getting to the edge again. Mike pounded away at her and she began to grunt. Then she lowered her face to mine and assaulted my mouth with her tongue. I can't say she was kissing me. It was more like she was fucking my face with her tongue. With every thrust she sucked greedily at my tongue and even bit it lightly. When she wasn't doing that, she was sticking her tongue inside my mouth, hungrily exploring it. Finally as she started to climax, she pulled away and arched her back up, head thrown back and began to scream that she was cumming. That's all Mike needed as he came too. Watching them was unbelievable and I wanted to cum so very desperately, but I couldn't.

After they finished, Mike got dressed and left the room. Diane removed the vibrator and proceeded to untie me. I was somewhat disappointed that yet again, I was denied the final pleasure. I sat up and went to get my clothes when I got another slap.

"Did I say to get dressed, bitch?" she demanded.

I shook my head.

"Well then follow me, you aren't done yet."

I followed her into the adjoining bathroom where she shut the door. No sooner than we were in then she pushed me up against the wall. One hand twisted my left nipple painfully. I winced in pain and wondered what her game was now.

"Remember, you are to do exactly what we want."

She released me and started the shower. Once she was inside, she beckoned me inside. She gave me the soap and told me to wash her. I proceeded to wash her body being extra careful not to piss her off any further. When I was done, she spread her legs.

"Clean down there, too," she said. I went to use the washcloth when she pulled it out of my hands. "With your tongue!"

I looked at her in disbelief. I had never, ever done anything like that before. She pushed me so I was on my knees and moved her cunt up to my face.

"Do it!"

I had no choice but to start to lick her. At first I let my tongue tentatively slide over her outer lips. Then I got more ambitious as I realized it wasn't so bad. I started to lick and then suck her clit. Within minutes she was moaning and clutching my head as I went to work. I figured I wouldn't be done until I brought her to an orgasm, so I eagerly sucked away. Soon I felt her trembling and tasted her sweet cum as she rocked to another orgasm. I licked every last drop from her swollen pussy until she told me stand up. 

"Would you like to cum now?" she asked.

"Oh yes, please," I answered. I was so hot after that I needed release immediately.

"Stand against the wall and do it to yourself."

I eased up against the wall and slowly started to rub my sensitive clit. I was so wet with my own juices that my finger slid around easily. It didn't matter that she was watching me. In fact, it heightened the sensation. She watched me with a look of hunger on her face. Finally she couldn't take it any longer and bent her head to suck on my tits. The warm water washed over us as she sucked and bit my nipples. I rubbed myself hard and within minutes I was brought to an unbelievable orgasm. I screamed out and put my arms around Diane to hold her tightly against my body. At last I got the relief I needed and it was worth it.

Part 2

A week went by with no contact from Mike or Diana. I began to feel restless and confused at my behavior with them. I had never done anything like that before, but found myself day dreaming about it more than once, and getting somewhat wet in the process.

Finally, Mike came by my office and asked me if I wanted to spend the weekend with them. I blushed deeply and furiously but told him I would. He smiled at me and told me to be there on Friday night. Something about that smile told me it would be an interesting weekend.


A Slave's Story



I’m not ashamed to be writing this. Not that my feelings have any relevance. I do what I’m told, and I know my place.

Who am I? Call me Therese. I’m forty-one years old, divorced, a mother of one (a son, Kyle, eighteen years old). I’m told that I’m fairly attractive, but I can’t see it. My hair is shoulder-length, mousey-brown, nondescript, my figure is, at best, unremarkable, and about the only noticeable feature I can claim is my blue eyes. I’ve been told they are very pretty.

A little historical perspective will probably help you to understand what I’m telling you in this “confession”, and why I’m writing it in the first place. I married right out of high school, only to learn in due course that the man I’d fallen for was an abusive, controlling bastard. I’ve never been at all assertive, so my husband was basically able to completely dominate every aspect of my life. 

I was never the least bit happy with my marriage; the only real joy I ever felt during that long ordeal was connected to the birth and upbringing of my beautiful son.

And even that was poisoned by his bastard of a father. Steven (my husband) never seemed to care all that much about Kyle, but he did enjoy abusing me and humiliating me in front of him. The worst of it happened about six or seven months before he finally deserted us for good: he actually moved his girlfriend into our home, into my bed! Steven made it clear that if I had any objection, I could leave.... without my son.

So of course I stayed, and spent my tear-filled nights on the living room couch. This was when Kyle was nine years old, clearly aware enough to know that his mother had been reduced in status in the house. Steven even forbade me to display any anger or unhappiness in “Shelley”’s presence; he forced me to wait on her with the same humility I demonstrated toward him.

To make a long story short, he eventually tired of the charade of our marriage, and he and Shelley rode off into the sunset together, never to be seen by us again. I was glad to see the back of him, even as I berated myself for failing completely at the simple function of being married.

And in some ways, it’s as though he never left....

Kyle is definitely his father’s son. Steven taught by example, and Kyle learned at his dad’s knee that I can be dominated. I think my son lost all respect for me back when Steven openly gave Shelley my status and my bed. From that time on, I could never control him. Not that he was a bad kid; he wasn’t cruel, never got into trouble, apparently had no interest in booze or drugs. But he always made it clear to me that he did what he wanted, when he wanted, and my feelings on the matter were irrelevant to him.

But that’s not to say we had a bad life. Kyle grew up like any other normal boy, and I made his well-being my reason for living. My absolute, unconditional love for him made that seem completely natural, and I was for several years content to let the days and weeks and months go by in this way forever.

It was not to be.

Three weeks ago, on the eve of his graduation from high school, Kyle informed me that he had changed his mind about going to college here in town, and instead was planning to accept a job offer at a steel mill more than seventy miles away. I was horrified, both at the prospect of him moving away, and at the notion of him discontinuing his education.

Looking back, I wonder if there ever really was any job offer. I think my son may have concocted that tale because he knew precisely what my reaction to it would be. I believe that he knew that I’d do anything, anything at all, to make him reconsider his “plans”. He certainly wasn’t hesitant or shy about acquainting me with the one thing I could do to convince him to stay at home and continue going to school....

We were in the living room that day, the scene of my past humiliation at the hands of his long-gone father. I was in tears, begging and pleading with my son not to leave. Kyle was utterly composed, apparently unaffected by my highly-charged emotional outburst, and clearly determined to do what he wanted to do.

“Please, Honey,” I wept. “Think about what you’re doing. This job might seem like a good idea right now, but there’s no future in it. You’ll be doing exactly the same thing twenty years from now, at almost the same pay. Without a college education, you won’t have any chance to better your situation, or to make a better life for yourself, or for a family.”

“You don’t know that,” he replied calmly, full of teenaged confidence. “And besides, that’s not what’s really bothering you, and we both know it. You don’t want me to move out of this house, and out of your life. Either admit the truth about that, or this conversation is over.”

I knew he was right; it really was the one aspect of this whole situation that filled me with suffocating terror. He was my life, my reason for existing. I couldn’t begin to imagine what I’d do, who I’d be, without him. What could it hurt for me to admit that to him, and to myself?

Trying to regain some measure of composure, I wiped my eyes and nodded. “Alright. I agree, that is probably the most important part of it for me. Is that so wrong? I’m your mother. I love you. I want to take care of you and look after your needs so that you can concentrate on making a future for yourself. I.... I can’t bear the thought of losing you, not yet, anyway....”

Kyle gave me a hard look. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong with that,” he said at last. “I’m a man now, and I’m tired of living in my mommy’s house, under my mommy’s wing. I need a place of my own. A place where I’m the boss. I want to live with a woman who’ll do what I say, when I say it.”

My tears started up again, largely because I knew, as cruel as his sentiments seemed to be, they were true. I didn’t know what else to say. “Please....” I begged, knowing my effort was wasted. “Isn’t there anything I can do to make you happy here with me?”

And then he smiled. It was a calculating expression, one that sent a chill of fear down my spine. I was afraid of what he’d say next, and it turned out that I wasn’t wrong to feel that way.

“Well,” he said through that smile. “There might be one thing you could do that would possibly –not definitely, you understand– but possibly make me change my mind. I won’t guarantee that I’ll stay even if you do it. I’ll only say that it would make staying with you and going to school a little more attractive a prospect.”

I recognized this ploy. Steven used to make me these kinds of “offers”. Either I gave him exactly what he wanted, in which case my situation got only marginally worse, or I denied him (never for long), and things got much worse indeed. As I stated earlier, Kyle was indeed his father’s son. And we both knew I was powerless to refuse him anything he really wanted.

I didn’t even bother to protest. What would’ve been the point?

“Please tell me,” I said through my continuing tears, steeling myself for whatever price my son would demand of me. “I’ll do anything you want.”

His smile grew larger as he got up from his chair, and came to sit beside me on the couch. He gently turned my face up to look into his own handsome features. “You love me, don’t you, Mom?” he asked softly.

“More than anything in the world,” I choked out.

“And you’ve always done your best to see to my needs, right?”

“Always.” I was afraid I might know where all this was leading, but what choice did I have but to follow wherever he might lead? “I’ve always tried to please you and make you happy.”

“I see,” he pretended to ponder this for a moment, then continued. “Well, there’s one need you’ve never taken care of, Momma. And if you want me to stay here with you, that’s going to have to change. In fact, everything around here is going to have to change pretty drastically if I’m going to keep living here.”

“W....what need?” I stammered, fearing the worst. “I already told you I’ll do whatever you want.”

Kyle’s smile widened even further, and he said “Let’s just test that statement, shall we?”

With that, he placed his hand on one of my breasts, and began to fondle it possessively.

I froze in shock and horror. This was what I’d feared the most. Suddenly I was unable to respond, unable to breathe or think. My own son was playing with my breast, as if it, and I, were his personal property --and I was helpless to stop him.

Taking my lack of protest as acquiescence, he leaned over to kiss me. That was what finally got my mind working again. Before his lips found mine, I managed to make a tiny plea: “Please don’t.... Please don’t make me do this. It’s so wrong....I’m your mother. It’s incest....”

Kyle instantly released my breast, and pulled his head back to look me in the eye again, more sternly this time.

“I’m not going to make you do anything, Mother,” he leered. “You know what your choice is. Unless you want me to get up and leave right this minute, you’ll offer me what I want of your own free will. It’s up to you to convince me to stay; I’m not asking you for anything. And I’m not promising you anything, either. All I’m doing is giving you a chance to get what you said you wanted –how did you put it?– ‘more than anything in the world’. Now it’s up to you.”

It wasn’t a nightmare. This was really happening, and I had a terrible decision to make: surrender myself to my son unconditionally, or lose him forever. And I knew that he, like his father before him, wasn’t kidding in the least. What choice did I really have?

Through an ever-increasing river of tears, I bowed my head submissively and said yet again “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

Kyle laughed, as unmoved by my shame and horror and sadness as ever. “Is that any way for a woman to offer herself to a man? You know better than that. You’re going to have to try harder, Momma. You’ve got to convince me that you want to serve me that way. You need to offer yourself to me as property. Show me that both incest and slavery are what you really, really want. And I’ll give you just one more chance to get it right.”

Although my heart was breaking, and humiliation inflamed every inch of my body and mind, neither of us doubted what my response would be. Sobbing quietly, I stood up and began to undress. Kyle watched with bright anticipation on his face as I exposed myself. His eyes drank in the sight of my bared breasts, and the furry mound of my pubic hair.

Completely naked, I knelt on both knees in front of my son. “Please let me serve you, Kyle,” I whimpered, nearly choking on the hateful, shameful words. “I want to please you in every way. I want to belong to you totally. I beg you to commit incest with me, and let me be your slave. I swear I’ll obey your every wish, fulfill your every fantasy, if you’ll let me. Please.”

My cheeks burning with shame, I again bowed my head submissively, hoping with every fiber of my being that I’d done a good enough job, that I’d succeeded in pleasing his need to completely dominate me, his own mother.

He laughed again, this time with obviously sincere delight. He’d won, and we both knew it.

He took me by the upper arm, and pulled me up to sit beside him again. “Lean back, Momma, and spread your legs,” he ordered. “I want to inspect my property.”

I did as I was told, and braced myself for the indignity I knew was coming. My son didn’t disappoint. He leaned over my naked body and placed his mouth upon mine. I wanted to fight, to push him away, but I knew better. Instead, I parted my own lips, and accepted his tongue into my mouth.

My son, it seems, is quite an accomplished kisser. If anyone else had kissed me that way, so lovingly, so gently, I probably would have had an orgasm right then and there. But it wasn’t anyone else. All I felt was degradation. But make no mistake: I kissed him back with all the manufactured passion I could muster. It seemed to please him; the kiss lasted for what seemed like many long minutes before he broke it and sat back, a satisfied smirk on his handsome face.

“That was very good, Momma,” he said condescendingly. “Keep up that much enthusiasm, and you’ll make it very hard for me to leave you.”

He didn’t seem to require a reply; he had other things on his mind. His hand again found my breast, and my nipples involuntarily stiffened as he resumed fondling me. It wasn’t long before he replaced his hand with his mouth, and started sucking my tit. Against my will, it had the intended effect: I could feel my vagina becoming hot and moist as my traitorous body responded to his obviously-well-practiced ministrations. My breathing grew heavier, less stable.

I was quite unwillingly aroused by the time he finished with my breasts, but my son was in no hurry. He made a very leisurely inspection of my vagina, stroking the folds of my labia, inserting first one, and then another finger up inside my body, and lightly brushing my clitoris with his thumb. My hot wetness belied my conscious lack of desire; I could not deny that, shame and disgust and humiliation aside, my body had no qualms about committing incest with my son. Physically, I was tortured by the need to have a penis inside me, no matter whose. Quite unwillingly, I heard myself begin to moan softly.

“Momma likes that, eh?” Kyle whispered with undisguised glee.

“Unnh....” I let out a shuddering breath. What use in denial? “Yes, baby. That feels....wonderful.”

“Good,” he said. “You’ll like this, too, because I’ll enjoy it so much.”

He withdrew his fingers from my pussy and raised them to my face. Horrified, I didn’t move as he drew them across my lips. But I knew what he wanted, and I knew it was useless to refuse. Bracing myself, I parted my lips and allowed him to put his fingers in my mouth. I tasted my own vagina as I sucked them clean of my juices.

“Very good, Momma,” he said with a smile. Then he stood up and motioned for me to resume my kneeling position. This put my face on a level with his crotch, and I knew he’d decided it was time to get down to more serious matters. I watched with trepidation and self-loathing for my own weakness as he took off his shirt, revealing his muscular, nearly-hairless torso. He was quite well-built, I had to admit. I found it a little surprising that a young man so fine looking would even give a woman my age the time of day. Of course, I doubted that many teenaged girls would surrender themselves to him the way we both knew I would, and already had.

Then came his jeans and briefs. When he finally stood naked before me, even my shame and reluctance couldn’t prevent me from admiring his straining, erect penis. Perhaps it didn’t belong in a porno movie, but it was at least seven or eight inches long, and of impressive girth, maybe an inch and a half thick.

“Tell me what you want, Momma,” he said.

Knowing that I had no choice, I told him what he obviously wanted to hear: “May I please take you in.... in my mouth?”

“You want to drink my come?”

“Yes,” I whispered, and at that moment I felt myself surrendering any last vestiges of resistance. From this point on, I decided to submit to my son willingly, no matter what he might demand of me. It was clearly the only way to keep him. “Please let me drink your come....I beg you.”

“Very good, Momma. That’s what I like to hear,” he smiled down at me, then reached out to take the back of my head in his hand. “Here’s your reward for being such a good slave.”

With that, he pulled my head forward. I parted my lips, and took his penis into my mouth, symbolically demonstrating my acknowledgment of his complete dominance. As I began to slowly piston my head on his erection, I closed my eyes and simply accepted my new status as my son’s slave and property. And, oddly enough, as my submissive act of fellatio continued, I found myself enjoying the simple pleasure of performing oral sex upon the man to whom I belonged. By the time he began to moan softly in preparation for his orgasm, I found myself anticipating it as well. When I felt his penis swell and tremble on my tongue, I eagerly swallowed the jets of his semen as they fired down my throat. I drank my son’s come as the reward for service that he had claimed it was. I looked at it as his gift, and my privilege.

How quickly things can change! In the space of a few short minutes, I had gone from being an independent, single mother to being a willing incestuous sexual slave, a role I was determined to fulfill to the best of my ability. I had always loved my son. But now my love was truly unconditional.

He allowed his penis to slip from between my lips, and, with an honest twinge of disappointment, I let it go. “That was great, Momma,” he breathed. “Did you like swallowing my come?”

I looked up into his eyes, so that he might see the truth of my response. “Yes, Master,” I smiled at him. “I enjoyed it very much. Thank you.”

I could see from the look on his face that he was both surprised and delighted at my response. He sat down on the couch , and leaned over to kiss me again. This time, my response was not feigned. I was kissing my lover and my master, and I reveled in the sensation of doing so. When his hand touched and then cupped my breast, I placed my own hand lovingly over it to show my approval and my gratitude.

At last, sadly, his sweet lips and tongue parted from mine. “Do you want to serve me some more, Momma?” he asked me, as if to test whether or not my commitment to being his slave was really sincere.

“Yes, Master,” I replied, still smiling. “I want to serve you in any way you want me to, more than anything in the world. I beg you to let me please you.”

“Very good,” he repeated, and then he stretched out on his belly and spread his legs. “From now on, this is something you get to do every day, to demonstrate to both of us that you know and willingly accept your place as my property. I want you to learn to love doing it, and to want it, and to beg me to let you do it at every opportunity.”

Unsure of what he meant, but determined to submit to anything, any degradation or humiliation he might require of me, I willingly agreed. “Whatever it is, Master,” I said, “I promise to do it, and to want it, and to beg for it as often as pleases you.”

He sighed happily, then said “Lick my asshole, Momma. Show me that you know your place.”

For just a second, I was mortified at the thought. But then I realized that he was right. What better way for a slave to demonstrate her complete submission to her master? My son owned me, I was his property, and this was a fine opportunity for me to show my appreciation of that fact.

“Yes, Master,” I replied. “Thank you, Master.”

Gently, I reached out to part the cheeks of his buttocks to expose the tight brown pucker of his anus. My son was very fastidious about his personal hygiene, thank goodness, so I knew the experience would at least not be sickeningly grotesque. And, as far as the humiliation of performing such an act was concerned, I was more than willing to accept, and even embrace that.

I lowered my face between the cheeks of his ass, and lightly kissed, then licked his asshole. I was surprised to find that I wasn’t at all revolted by either the taste or smell of him. It was musky, manly, and it made me even hornier. Soon I was performing my duty with eager lust, licking and probing my son’s anus with even more desire than I had shown toward his beautiful penis. I wasn’t going to have to convince myself to want this every day. I loved it! And every time I felt him tremble with satisfaction, my own pleasure increased. I actually thought I might have an orgasm myself! But I resisted it, fought against it. This was about my son and master’s pleasure, not mine. He would decide when and how and if I received that level of personal fulfillment.


After what seemed like far too little time, he told me that was enough. With great reluctance, I sat back into my previous kneeling posture to await his next command. To my surprise, he leaned over to kiss me again, apparently not minding the taste of his own ass on my lips and tongue. His hand slipped down my naked belly and between my parted legs, which I forced apart even further to accommodate his exploration. His fingers found my vagina sopping wet, and he stroked me gently, covering his fingers with my juices. When he broke our kiss, and withdrew his hand, I did not need to be told what to do. I eagerly accepted his fingers into my mouth, and greedily sucked and licked my own vaginal secretions from my son’s hand, like the good slave and loving mother I so wanted to be.




A Slave's Story



Kyle waited, watching with approval, until I had cleaned every last bit from his skin, then he gently pushed me backward onto the floor. Now it was my turn to tremble with excitement. It had been so long since a man had taken me! I spread my legs eagerly, exposing my most private parts for his inspection and use.

Again, my son did not disappoint. He lay down on me, his again-erect penis touching the opening in my vagina. And there he stopped.

“Mother,” he said seriously, looking deep into my eyes, into my very soul, it seemed. “Do you offer yourself to me as mother, wife, slave, and property? Renouncing all your rights, freedoms, and dignities, and swearing to obey and serve me for the rest of your life? Will you accept that this in no way means that I have any similar obligation to you, and that I am still free to do whatever I want, with whoever I want?”

My son was offering to marry me, right here and now!

“Yes, Master, I do,” I whispered gratefully.

“Then I now pronounce you my mother, wife, slave, and property,” he said. “You belong to me completely now.”

And with that, he thrust himself into my body with one stroke, hurting me and fulfilling me and marking me as his own. I screamed with pleasure and pain, forcing my legs open even wider, and pulling myself down onto his impaling shaft. Over and over again, he drilled his penis into me, pounding the soft flesh of my tender vagina without regard for my pleasure, little knowing how much I needed this very disregard. Until that moment, I’d never realized just how much I desired and deserved this kind of treatment. I was born to be a slave, it seemed to me, and I could think of no man to whom I would rather have belonged than my sweet son. I had found my place.

In the mindless throes of mutual lust, I barely registered the buildup of a coming orgasm. And while that release seemed to be the most natural thing in the world, I realized that it was not what I wanted. It was a distraction from what was really important: my son and husband’s pleasure. And so again I fought against it, concentrating on suppressing my own fulfillment, so that I could give all my effort and consideration to his. In a few moments, the feeling subsided (for the most part), and I was able to concentrate on bringing my son to his orgasm.

And that didn’t take long; he was, after all, still only eighteen. In a handful of moments, his back arched, his beautiful body strained, tense as wire, and I felt his dick swell inside me and begin to pump my womb full of his precious semen. He groaned with the pleasure of it, and my heart nearly burst with love and pride and happiness. My son was coming inside me! My master was filling me with his seed. I clamped the muscles of my vagina down as hard as I could, attempting to draw every single drop of his gift into my body.

At last he collapsed down on top of me, spent, and I wrapped my arms around his trembling body. I couldn’t prevent tiny tears of joy and gratitude from filling my eyes, and I whispered “Thank you, Master. Thank you so much. Thank you for letting me serve you, and for giving me the gift of your sweet come in my body,” into his ear.

He raised his head and kissed me, and for that moment, I was in a world of complete and utter bliss. I knew then that I didn’t just love my son, my husband, my owner– I was in love with him. I knew that there was nothing I would not do to please him and serve him.

His lips parted from mine, and he smiled at me. “Did you come, Momma?”

Proud of my self-control, I admitted “Almost. But I managed to stop it before it happened.”

“What?” he seemed surprised. “Why did you stop it?”

“I didn’t want to be distracted from giving you pleasure,” I explained, suddenly afraid he might be angry with me. “I assumed you’d tell me when I could have an orgasm. I didn’t feel that I had the right to think about my pleasure, when what was important was making sure you had a good time.”

I needn’t have worried. Wonder seemed to be his main emotion. He briefly kissed me again, then said “You’re a wonderful slave, Momma. But in the future, unless I tell you otherwise, you can come when I’m in your pussy. It would make any son happy to make his mother come. And I trust you to not let it distract you from doing your duty to me.”

“Thank you, Master,” I whispered yet again.

“And from now on, there’s something I want you to do every time I’m through being inside you like this,” he said. “Every time my dick leaves your pussy, you need to clean me up. With your mouth.”

“I’d love to do that,” I assured him. “I’ll be glad to take you in my mouth any time you’ll let me.”

“Good girl,” he responded, and with that, I felt him slide out of me, leaving him free to roll off of me, and onto his back.

As directed, I immediately sat up and leaned over him, taking his softening penis into my mouth, relishing the hot scent and flavor of our mingled fluids. I knew that at least some of the mixture was composed of his sperm, and that made my efforts to suck and lick up every bit of it even more obsessive. He let me go on for some minutes before pulling me back onto the floor with him. His arm encircled my shoulders, and curled my body up next to his. What a feeling! Lying naked on the floor in the arms of my son and husband. I had never felt so perfectly at peace.

I had almost drifted off to sleep when Kyle said “That was good, Momma. But I’ve been thinking about what you said, about not wanting to be distracted from pleasing me when we’re having sex. And I’ve thought of a way to make that easier for you. Would you like to try it?”

“Oh yes,” I said. I didn’t care what he had in mind. It wasn’t my place, after all to decide how or when he used me. “Please.”

“OK,” he replied. “Wait right here.”

He got up, leaving me curled on the floor, and I watched with no small amount of admiration and lust as his naked body moved toward the kitchen. He rummaged around in there for a minute or so, then returned holding a bottle of canola oil that I used for cooking.

He sat down beside me, cross-legged, and I could see that his penis was twitching, starting to re-stiffen. Ah, youth! I felt my own excitement begin to bubble anew, not that it had ever subsided very much.

“What we just did was pretty normal sex,” he explained. “And that’s good. We’ll probably do that at least once or twice a day. But I’m about to tell you about your new favorite way to do it. This way, you’ll have less trouble keeping your mind on pleasing me.”

I nodded. “Please tell me more, Master. I’m dying to know how to serve you better.”

“Naaah,” he shook his head. “I’ll just show you. Lick my asshole.”

He lay down on his belly again, and I obeyed his command gladly, licking and kissing the tight knot of his anus with renewed enthusiasm. Already, this was becoming perhaps my favorite part of foreplay, because it demonstrated my complete submission so effectively. I felt that every moan that escaped his lips, every tremble of his muscles, was confirmation of my success as his slave.

After a time he said “That’s good,” and I reluctantly ceased my ministrations. Then he put his hand on the back of my neck, and guided my face to the floor. He moved behind me, and parted my legs. I was on my knees, face to the floor, ass in the air. Then I realized what he intended to do.

Back during my first marriage, to Kyle’s father, I always hated anal sex. Steven was rough, and I did not give him my ass willingly. Of course, he took it anyway, which probably accounts for the fact that I was now personally rather unenthused about having my son and new husband take me this way. But it was not my place to object, and further, I would do anything, no matter how unpleasant, to serve his needs, even his whims.

So I obediently parted my legs, without waiting to be told, and knelt patiently while he applied the canola oil to his penis. Once that was done, he moved up behind me, and I felt his hard dick pressing against my tight sphincter. I took a deep breath, trying to relax, then winced as he began to penetrate me. But, unlike his father, Kyle was gentle and slow. The process of sliding his dick into my anus was a revelation to me: I never knew it could be at all pleasant, but it actually was. He filled me without hurrying, allowing me to experience the entire sensation of anal surrender, and I actually found myself enjoying it. I let out my pent-up breath in a rush as his pubic mound pressed up against my buttocks. He was all the way inside me, and it really felt good! So full! So hard and strong. Once again, my master and husband was sharing something priceless with me, allowing me to serve his needs without the distraction of vaginal stimulation. Again, I had the realization of being where I belonged, face down on the floor, with my son’s dick in my ass. It was wonderful.

Then he began to fuck me slowly, carefully, and I was more able to concentrate on responding to his gentle thrusts, pressing back against him, then holding firm as he retreated. It was a long, slow, sweet process, and I reveled in it, enjoying the sensations, and, yes, the degradation of being ass-fucked by my own son. When at last he finally came with a grunt, I actually regretted the end of this sweet interlude. He had taught me yet another lesson in humility and servitude, and it was one I would cherish.

I gasped unhappily as he pulled out of me, leaving me a little sore, and very empty. But I still kept my priorities straight. “Oh, thank you, Master. That was wonderful.”

But we weren’t finished. “Come on, Momma,” he commanded, getting to his feet, and heading for the bathroom. I got shakily to my feet, and followed obediently.

In the bathroom, Kyle was standing before the sink, a washcloth in hand under the faucet, which ran with warm water. Once the rag was soaked, he rubbed it with a bar of soap, and handed it to me. “Clean me up,” he said.

I complied, gently washing his dick and balls, then rinsing the cloth and wiping him free of soap. While I dropped the used hand towel into the dirty clothes hamper, he was pulling back the shower curtain.

“Get in,” he directed me. “On your knees.”

I did as I was told, and then he was standing in front of me, his limp penis in his hand.

“Close your eyes, Momma, and open your mouth.”

Again I followed his instructions without question. No sooner had I complied than I felt a stream of warm liquid splashing on my breasts and belly, moving up toward my face. As the stream entered my mouth, I tasted the salty flavor of my son’s urine. He was pissing on me! A part of me wanted to rebel, but then my natural submissiveness kicked in, and I accepted this as his right. I was, after all, his property. He could use me as he wished. As his pee covered my face, then moved back down my body to spray my pubis, I found myself becoming grateful. My son and husband and master was marking me as his own, creating for me a kind of liquid wedding dress. Once I thought of it this way, I began to enjoy the experience. The warm flow of his urine felt quite good, really, and the meaning behind it made the humiliation even sweeter. I felt a twinge of disappointment as the stream dwindled and died out.

I opened my eyes to find Kyle standing close to me, his fingers pinching the shaft of his penis, which was inches from my face.

“I saved the last few drops for you, Momma,” he said. “Do you want them?”

“Oh, yes,” I replied. “Please.”

He smiled and moved closer, and I opened my mouth to accept his soft dick. As soon as my lips closed around it, he released a last squirt of urine, which I gratefully swallowed, savoring the tangy salt flavor. Taking just a tiny bit of liberty, I sucked his dick a little before he pulled it from my lips.

“No dick for you just now, Momma,” he chided me gently, turning his back to me. “It’s all about ass for right now.”

I understood. This way of having sex was what he intended to be my favorite version, a wish I intended to honor. I didn’t think it would be too difficult, as I’d enjoyed every minute of it. First, I had licked his asshole. Then, he’d fucked mine. After that, he’d pissed all over me, and now, finally, we had come full circle. I leaned forward, parted his buttocks, and, with his urine still glistening all over my body, I proceeded to lick his asshole yet again, savoring every degrading moment of it.

Afterward, he had me shower. When I was done, he took my place. Later, I made his favorite meal, and we dined, naked, at the dining room table. A mother and her son, a wife and her husband, a slave, serving her master. I finally felt that my life was complete.

And there you have it. Most people would say I should be ashamed, that I’m the most horrible mother imaginable. But I’m not ashamed. And, whatever kind of mother I am, I am also an excellent slave. My master tells me so often. And he loves his mother very much. We’re both very happy. 

And isn’t that what really matters?



A Slave's Story



Authors Note.

This is the first chapter of an almost complete, full-length novel about star-crossed lovers. There are two streams to the story, this one is aimed at female readers the other, entitled Master, is aimed at male readers. Therefore Females should read the Slave chapter #n before reading the Master chapter #n. The story is of the interaction of the main characters as they travel the bumpy road of experience that is life.

It is intended to get readers of both sex's able to identify (get their juices flowing) with the main character (of their sex) while understanding what the other character is doing.

All characters are drawn from real life; names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Be warned the female character has a hidden agenda right to the last chapter!

Also be warned the lovers are very sexually adventurous and this story has them experiencing activities that are injurious to health if practiced in real life. 

The ultimate and safe sex is to read about it!

Where in your body is your highest erogenous zone? Answer between your ears.

I hope you like the humor buried here, so read on and enjoy James and Jessica's story.

*

Slave by Accident

Hello dear reader my name is Jessica and this is the beginning of my story of Masters and Slaves, of Bondage and more much more. I hope you like it.

It all began with an accidental death. A client of a well-known Dominatrix died of heart failure while serving her. She did all she could to save him. Called for help and did CPR very expertly. The client was pronounced DOA when he got to the Emergency Room. Of course, the cops arrested her and her dungeon became a crime scene. She did not have a Lawyer so one was appointed and the firm I work for as a very raw junior was appointed. None of the partners wanted the job, so as the token female lawyer in the practice she fell into my lap, I was given some advice from the senior partners. 

"Do not make waves, do your best, but let it all go down, she does not have a hope. It's open and shut." Said the stern senior partner.

I went to the Watch House facility where she was being held and was given the details of the charge sheet. Murder in the second degree! The senior detective in charge who I knew only by reputation took pity on me and agreed to let me see the crime scene photos, before I saw my client. I soon realized he was trying to intimidate me, as well has have a laugh at my expense.

He showed me photo after photo. Whips, a riding crop and a school cane. Ropes, pulleys and pieces of wood with steel rings attached. The panoramic shots of the inside of the dungeon with all sorts of instruments of torture. Wooden structures, one like a cross, padded benches and rings attached to the floor, walls and ceiling.

He grinned as he showed me the pictures of the deceased, lay upon the stone floor as the ambulance men worked on him. The police had arrived before the Ambulance. The dungeon was just across the road and round the corner from the local red light district police sub-station. A patrolling office had been the one to respond to the woman's call for help. He had thought the man dead from the instant he saw him.

The photos were not pretty. There was a wooden bar quite thick and quite long, which spread his legs wide. With cuffs around his ankles. His entire arms were in a strange leather glove like thing that bound them behind him. There was a rope around his chest that had obviously been tight. And it hung limply from a ring in the ceiling. And went round a two-stage pulley system back to the wall. 

There were angry red welts over most of the mans body and worst of all there was a purple thing sticking out of the mans bottom. This last photo was very poor quality. The detective told her the attending officer had taken it with his cell phone as he called for the ambulance. There were others he had taken of the scantily clad accused giving CPR. A very sordid case, made worse when his identity was revealed, a minor politician from a regional city here in the state capital for a representatives meeting. I could just about recognize his face when I obscured the state of his body and just looked at the face. It seemed to be in rapture. A smile, not a grimace of pain.

The policeman told me I would get copies as soon as the prosecution could reproduce them. He handed me the last photo of the sheaf a full length shot of the accused. The woman was dressed if you could call it that in what could just be referred to as shiny red leather underwear, but most of her breasts were exposed as was her pubic mound de-nuded of hair. She had shiny red thigh boots on with ridiculously high heels.

The detective handed me a final sheet. This was a list of places where they expected to find the deceased's DNA. It was a long list. He banged home the final nail. The woman's desk diary showed the man had been there for just over two hours of a three-hour appointment. I was very hot when I left the interview room and was escorted to the cell interview room. The woman was in an orange shift that did not fit well and she had bare feet. Her first words are imprinted on my mind.

"He had just ejaculated and he went puce. I knew what had happened. I had him down on the floor, called for help and was giving him CPR in seconds, now they say I murdered him. You can get me off this can't you?"

So began my descent into darkness, a world I knew nothing about. A sordid world of prostitutes, Sadists and Masochists, of dungeons and torture. I took a copy of the statement she had already given the police and went through it with her. I asked her to tell me what had happened again beginning with when she had first had the man as a client, and how many times he visited. I took notes in a shaky hand. At last I could go.

"Annie it does not look good. I will do my best, we will have to wait for the autopsy report. I will contact this person you mention who he had visited in his hometown. She may be a good defense witness, that is, if she would be willing to appear. I will do my best."

I struggled not to run from the room, I was moving very quickly when I gained the street. I do not normally visit a bar at 11:30 am, but that day I did.

I was still shaking when I reported back to chambers. The senior partner had me read him my notes and I am sure I saw him grinning like a Cheshire cat as I described some of the photos.

"Thought so, she does not stand a chance." He had a smile on his face. "Now remember what I said about not rocking the boat. A quick plea of guilty will be in the client's best interest."

I was dismissed.

I had two terrible photos. One of that purple thing sticking from his behind and one of his smiling face. Then I noticed my first bit of good news in this terrible case. The pictures had a time stamp on them. The photo of the face was before the 911 call had been recorded by two minutes. The photo of the purple thing was some 17 minutes after the ambulance arrived! An interval of 29 minutes. What had the police officer done before calling the ambulance?

Then having had to confront the demons those photo's represented I saw the second glimmer of good news. There was not a trace of a tear on the mans face. No sweat marks. Remove the background and the lifeless eyes and he could just be a happy chappy. I made a call to the coroner's office and made an urgent appointment. My deceased was next for the knife. I rang a friend and found the name of a private forensic pathologist. The good doctor a female was expensive but as Annie had told me she did not care what the cost, I got her to attend. I gave her very specific instructions.

The hour and a half at the autopsy gave me nightmares for the four weeks before I met James. I had others to replace them after I met him!

Next day at the office, I began a quest for a defense. I contacted the other Dominatrix by phone, she agreed to meet me, but she was in hiding until the dust died down. She gave me valuable information about the equipment and the name of a magazine where she thought Annie had purchased hers, through a contact listed there. I had gone to a local adult bookstore. Buying that magazine had turned my knees to jelly. The things that were on show were shocking. I had frantically tried to look elsewhere when buying it, I had seen a filthy magazine showing a naked woman with her arms restrained by a similar glove as that the victim had been found in. I added it to my purchase. 

The seedy man at the counter said, "I have had a run on that mag I've only those two left." He told me, "enjoy, enjoy!" 

I was scarlet as I hurried out into the fresh air. I was carrying a brown paper wrapper. I hurried back to the office locked myself in the toilet and read through the contact magazine and there it was an advert exactly as the woman had said. A Slave master who supplied bondage equipment. I thrust the filthy thing back in its plain brown wrapper and returned to my desk in the Junior Lawyers pen.

I stowed the filthy things in my briefcase. I told the receptionist that I would work from home as it was too noisy in the office and left. I had been indoors seconds when I had a call from the senior partner.

"Good Idea working from home, don't want to upset the troops. Take as long as you need. Tell me as soon as you have a hearing date. I will give you some time then to review the case. Have you got her to make a plea yet?"

I told him, "She is protesting innocence very loudly."

"Do your best then Jessica, I will leave it all up to you."

The phone line went dead before I had chance to reply.

I took the contact magazine from its wrapper careful not to look at the other one. Turned to the instruction page for replies and filled in the silly pro-forma.

Name, contact details, the details of advert number being contacted. A slip of paper less than four inches square. Little did I know where that piece of paper would lead me. I posted my reply.

I spent quite a time on the internet looking up precedents. I seems manslaughter was the harshest penalty handed down to prostitutes who had been unfortunate to have a client die on them. Longest sentence I found was 5 years, the shortest was two. Annie looked likely to go down. I printed a few examples to take in to her when I next saw her. A guilty plea to manslaughter would be a good bargaining point. I delayed looking at the other magazine. I had picked up the brown wrapper and then put it down again. all afternoon. I had had dinner with it on the table beside me as I ate a sparse meal. I found myself taking it with me as I made myself a late night drink of Chocolate and it sat on the kitchen table. It sat like a time bomb on the coffee table in front of the TV.

The mans death had been headlines yesterday, today it was reduced to a filler. The brown paper thing kept attracting my eye.

I had taken the filthy thing upstairs and thrown it across the bed as I prepared to sleep. I knew it was laying there on the floor beside the bed. I re-set the alarm, no need to get up early while working from home. I turned off the light and prepared for a sleep that refused to come. I really tried to sleep. I tossed and turned for ages. The red numbers of the bedside clock flickered ever onward as time marched past, I found myself looking at those numbers again and when I realized that less than two minutes had passed since I had last looked I gave up turned the light on and sat up.

I shuffled across the bed and lent over the side. The magazine had slid out of its wrapper and fallen open. The lurid picture that confronted me made me moan in shock. It took me all my strength to reach down and pick the filthy thing up.

I took a gulp of air and began turning the pages. I looked at the clock again and saw that I had been turning pages back and forth for almost a hour before I threw the thing away in disgust. Turned the light off and thumped the pillows and sought sleep once again. As I turned on my side, I felt a damp patch and realized my nightgown was wet! Dear God what was happening to me. I turned the light back on threw back the covers and saw a damp patch where I had been propped up looking at that damn thing. I drew my nightgown over my head and threw it away found a clean one then replaced the soiled sheet. I then realized that I was still very wet between my legs and retired to the bathroom. I sponged myself down and returned to my freshly made bed.

Eventually I slept.

I woke in a lather of sweat and I realized my fingers were busy at my crotch. I was wet again so was my nightie and so was the bottom sheet. I tore the nightie off and moved over the bed. I wrapped the top sheet between my legs and sought sleep again. I looked at the red numbers again scarcely two hours had passed. It was a long night. I woke twice more disgusted with the state I woke in. The bed reeked of sex. I had leaked everywhere. Even the pillow was wet. From tears or drool, I wondered.

I rose well before my normal time and had a cool shower and began work. I had kicked that damn magazine beneath the bed. 'Out of sight out of mind,' I told myself. There was no news from the pathologist, they were busy! I stewed all morning.

I had to stay focused, but then when I was looking through my briefcase I saw the contact magazine. The phone interrupted me four hours later. I had read and re-read every advert. I had made copious notes yet understood not a thing about what I had read. There were all sorts of code words and mnemonics used that I could only guess at. The small thumbnail pictures that accompanied some of the adverts were pathetic or lurid or just plain disturbing. I cooked a lonely meal and sat before the TV all evening, I was dreading going to bed.

It was late when I eventually climbed the stairs. I got in bed and again watched the red numbers count the passing seconds. I do not remember groping under the bed for that filthy magazine, but here I was at 3:30 still turning the pages. The sheet was wet again. I turned off the light and sleep took me. I woke several times with my hands in my groin. I was constantly wet. I was disgusted. I got up early again. Took the magazine down stairs picked up the contact magazine and threw them both in the rubbish bin.

I worked hard all day.

I went out and had a nice meal with a girlfriend. I did not talk about the case. I returned home slightly the worse for ware, and went to bed. An hour later, I was rummaging through the rubbish bin retrieving those damn magazines.

I was soon masturbating furiously. I had a massive orgasm. Threw the magazines to the floor and slept, indeed I was surprised when the alarm went off.

I worked on the case getting more internet data. I rang the pathologist no news. I ate, watched TV and went to bed. I masturbated looking at the pictures. The ones of the woman on the cover were the one's I looked at most. I slept reasonably well.

This seemed to establish a pattern. I worked at the case all day. I watched some TV in the evenings. I masturbated every night and dreamt lurid dreams. The autopsy report came in and it looked like I just might have a defense. The body was released and a televised funeral took place. Annie would not consider a guilty plea to manslaughter. She told me she had got her equipment from interstate but she did know of the man in the contact magazine, she gave me his name and address. I employed a private detective and within three days had a report on the bondage supplier.

The days then weeks passed. I was still masturbating every night before I tried to sleep. I looked at those pictures quite often and soon the magazine was with me where ever I was, open on the table or hidden in my briefcase, if I had to go out.

It was three weeks since I had posted that 4 inch square of paper, and on the Thursday evening, the phone rang. A mans voice spoke.

"Is that Jessica? You sent a reply to an advert I have in the contact magazine." The voice sounded quite normal, soft and well spoken.

"Yes, yes I did, could we meet I need to ask you some rather detailed questions." I felt foolishly self-conscious. But took down the details of a wine bar and agreed to meet the next afternoon after working hours. The voice told me how he could be recognized. I put the phone down in a blue funk.

I was too agitated to eat and went to bed early. I masturbated furiously, had two gigantic orgasms and slept with even more lurid dreams.

Friday and I was in a state all day. I could not achieve any real results, no matter what I tried to put my mind to.

I dressed very formally, as if I was due in court and caught a cab to the wine bar. There was a coffee shop across the road from the wine bar. I found a window seat and ordered a flat white. I studied the men going in to the wine bar. He was early. 'Tall, just a bit taller than me,' I thought. I did not get a good look at his face, but got the impression that he was older than I had expected. There seemed to be a touch of grey at his temple. He was casually dressed and the sweater he had described was very distinctive. I drank my coffee and then another. I forced myself to wait another ten minutes hoping that he would give up and go away, but no he was still in there.

I used the ladies at the back of the coffee shop, I was disgusted to find a damp patch in my panties. I excused myself, 'you are going to meet this man just once so get as much as you can from him.' I returned to the window seat, then hurried out. I almost got myself run over crossing the road. What if he had left while I was in the loo?

He was still there. I dithered then composed myself and crept up behind him.

"Hello are you James. I'm Jessica." I tried to sound confident just another casual meeting after work.

"Yes that's me, can I get you a wine, Dry White?" He was studying me with smiling eyes.

"Yes please that would be nice." I sat at a stool beside his, he had obviously kept it for me despite me being so late. The bar keep served me the drink. I had not seen him ask so he had obviously been primed. This was probably his local watering hole. No money changed hands.

"I saw your advertisement quite by accident and I am both curious and somewhat disgusted that people make and sell such implements of torture." I tried to put him on the defensive. He did not respond

"Do you use them as well as sell them?" This was not going how I wanted it to, I kept my eyes away from his.

"What sort of disgusting things do you sell then?" I tried to put him in his place, a disgusting torturer. I briefly glared into his blue grey eyes. I found him rather attractive. I hastily looked away.

"I have a range of equipment." He replied, smiled then drank the rest of his wine. 

"Yes, but what sort?" I took a quick glance to see him watching me intently with almost a grin on his face.

"They are all hand made. I am a skilled worker and they are of the finest quality, soft leathers, silk ropes and varnished wood." He was obviously proud of his filthy stuff.

"Yes but what sort and do you use them yourself?" I felt myself getting hot. I tried to look at him through the mirror behind the bar. He was watching me intently. That damn smile was very fetching and seemed to be permanently fixed on his rugged good looks.

"Well there are many different sorts of bondage implements, what sort are you interested in?" Damn it, again he answered my question with another. I realized I had almost finished my drink. I was getting nervous.

"I don't really know, did you see the photographs in the paper a month or so ago?" I tried to get him to say something rather than ask questions.

"Yes I saw the paper and read of the stupid woman who went too far and killed her client." He was brutally honest I began to hate him.

"Yes that paper, that woman, but your are a man so you torture women." I sensed I was getting the better of him at last.




A Slave's Story



"I could not work out what half the things in that picture were for, let alone imagine anybody letting someone use them on them." I attacked his position. I drank the last of my wine while he did not reply. 'That got you thinking,' I thought. He continued to smile.

"What sort of things do you make?" I tried a different tack. I looked him in the eye as he thought of a reply.

"Would you like to see some?" His words were unexpected and I reacted.

"What! Do you have some with you?" I blurted out.

"You did not answer my question?" He tied me in a knot verbally

"Yes, I would like to see what you make." I felt nervous again. Things were not going anything like I had expected and he still wore that damn attractive smile. He put a hand in a pocket and I jumped when he showed me what he drew out.

"How does this work?" I asked. I took a quick look at his face.

"Hold out your wrist." He said softly, and my wrist went out all of its own accord.

"This is so the other things don't leave ugly red marks or chafe your skin." He said in a soft voice as he wrapped the soft leather round my wrist.

I felt the smooth supple leather and lifted it to smell it. There was the distinctive odor of kid leather. "Do you have anything else to show me?" My voice was betraying me now. I looked down at the leather round my wrist.

"Do you want to see some more?" He asked, and again I saw he was smiling broadly.

I found myself nodding assent, just what was I thinking of. This was not what I had expected at all. I was hot, I was bothered. And I seemed to have agreed to something.

"You will have to come to my home, I use my lounge as a show room, it's around the block only a few minutes walk." 

He took my elbow and gently escorted me from the wine bar. I was in a daze, almost a trance. We did not talk as we walked the short distance. I was frantically trying to remember what I had agreed to.

He unlocked the front door of a small house on a small block with almost no front garden. I stepped inside his lair. He indicated a door and I entered a lounge room with wooden floorboards, Very sparsely decorated and a WHITE SETTEE exactly like the one in that filthy magazine.

"Another glass of wine?" He asked and pointed me in the direction of a stool beside the bar. I was not going to sit on that white thing!

I nodded and took the second stool closer to the wall. Keeping some distance between myself and him as he went behind the bar. He took a bottle of cheap wine from the bar fridge and filled a rather large wine glass.

"What sort of things do you want to see?" he asked, again that damn smile.

"Oh, I want to see them all." I said casually and matched his smile.

"Well I think I can do that, what would you like to see first?" he said.

"You said that this was to stop things chafing the wrists. What sort of things did you mean, handcuffs or rope?"

"Both can damage skin and both are used, which would you like to see?"

Damn him he keeps answering with another question and now I have to give an answer.

"Rope." I said, again my voice let me down I had meant to speak with much more confidence.

He reached below the bar and put a short piece of rope across the bar.

I picked it up and fingered the silk patterned outer threads it was only six feet long.

"What is this for, it hardly seems long enough to secure anyone." I twisted the soft coils around my fingers.

"Would you like to try it round one wrist?" He said reaching out and taking hold of the end, I had carelessly left in his reach.

I watched as my wrist reacted without my consent again, and he wrapped the rope about my wrist in a strange way and there were several coils wrapped and knotted round my wrist. It had taken him just a few seconds. I found myself fingering the rope coils.

"Would you like me to do the other one?" He asked softly. 

I felt myself nod not trusting myself to speak.

He fitted another soft leather cuff and a second rope coiled around my other wrist. I sipped my drink, I fiddled with the rope, a few long seconds passed.

"But these are hardly restraints?" I failed to see what was happening so was some how less nervous.

"But they can be. Would you like to see how?"

I nodded. 

"Hold out your hands." 

I did not put the glass down. I held them out.

He bought up from some storage below the bar a shiny steel thing and un-screwed it, fiddled with the wrist holding the glass and let me look at what he had done.

"It's become half of a hand cuff, but would be very easy to get off." I turned the screw end back and forth it turned quite easily.

"Would you like to try the other half?" 

I held out my other wrist and he fitted another steel thing to the rope round that wrist.

"How do they fit together?" I asked.

"Well they can be used like that and joined together with other rings or with rope to keep your wrists together or used to hold your arms apart separately." He explained in a soft gentle voice.

He took a small thin rope and tied the steel things together quite loosely. 

"I suppose they are crude handcuffs, but aren't they rather easy to get off?"

"Perhaps, but that is part of the game, being tied, but easily freed. Try walking about." 

I stood and walked about. "Where is the bathroom please?"

He took my elbow and led me down a short corridor. 

"Can you manage like that, here let me untie that string."

He turned and returned to the lounge room. 

While I used his facilities, I pondered upon just how far I was prepared to let this go. He seemed a nice man and it was ages since I had had a half decent fuck. I was as hot as hell and dripping wet. I half made my mind up, if he wanted me, he could have me.

I pulled my pants up smoothed my skirt fluffed my hair washed my hands flushed the loo. I returned to the lounge. He was sat on the white settee. I picked up my almost empty glass and sat beside him.

"I suppose you have similar things for legs?" I asked

He nodded.

"Could I try them?" I felt myself flush. "You won't do anything will you?"

"I will let you try the leg cuffs on. If you tell me to stop, then I will stop." He gave me a nice smile. Went behind the bar and returned with more leather and more rope. And more metal things. And placed them on the arm of the settee.

"Just pass them to me, the cuff first then the rope then the 'd' shackles. Take your time there is no need to rush." He said, again with that big smile.

I think I was trembling slightly when I lifted my left ankle and he took it in his strong hand and wrapped a soft leather cuff round it.

Soon the equipment was fitted to both my ankles.

"You usually spread the legs I suppose?" I asked feeling myself go pink. I tried to avoid looking him in the eyes.

He nodded, smiled and said. "Do you want to try a spreader?" 

I felt myself blush, but nodded. I had decided I wanted to try a spreader in another more intimate place.

He fetched a stout wooden pole and handed it to me. It was smooth and polished, nice wood with five metal eyes, one in the middle and two near the ends and one poking out each end.

"What are these for?" I asked, there was a frog in my throat and I coughed.

"Perhaps I can show you later, but you wanted to try the spreader. Your skirt will be too tight, could you lift it up a little?" 

At last, he was showing a little initiative.

He took the pole from me and fiddled with my left ankle then put the pole on the floor. He looked up at me then down at the end of the pole. He wanted me to move my right ankle. I shifted my position a bit and realized that my tight skirt would not let me spread my legs far enough apart so hitched it up quite a way. Then placed my ankle next to the end of the pole.

He fiddled around some more and had my legs spread apart.

'Well James,' I thought, 'you are definitely going to fuck me now!'

I fiddled with my skirt making sure he got a flash of my black panties.

I handed him my empty glass.

He asked, "Another?" 

I smiled and while he filled it, I bent and tested the fastenings.

"I am hardly trusted up, these don't seem to be terribly effective. I could get free in seconds. How can you justify the silly prices you probably ask for these bits of rope, metal and wood?" I felt confident. He was acting cool, but I could feel the tension in the air

"Oh they can be very difficult to get out of. Would you like to try?"

I nodded. "You won't do anything will you?"

"You can try to get out when I tell you, just wait, do what I tell you, then I will sit here and watch while you get free."

He fetched two more bits of wood and fixed one between my right ankle and wrist, then the other between my left ankle and wrist. I had held still while he did this. He poured a smaller measure of wine and one for himself. He clinked glasses and we both took a sip.

"Just one more thing and you can try to get free." 

I fingered the loose metal pins at each wrist. I sipped more wine while He fetched a fourth wooden pole and fitted it to my left wrist.

He un-tied the rope from the metal bits then fiddle with them feeding the screw piece through the ring in the end of the pole. He then held the pole across my body I had to stretch out to put my wrist next to the end. I still had the glass of wine in my hand.

"I will screw it in quite loosely. I don't want you to think I have cheated. Would you like to try and get free now?"

I looked at him rather shocked. I looked from hand to ankle to other hand. Everything seemed to be out of reach I could just get the glass to take a sip of wine.

I said. "Er, please hold this."

He took the glass and placed a stool in front of me and sat down to watch.

I got an end of the rope between my teeth and only succeeded in tightening the silly knot. I bounced around a bit and got a little more room to move, then when I bounced again my skirt slipped down and it would not ride back up. The damn thing was in the way. I looked at him. 

"Please pull my skirt up." I smiled and stood still. He hiked it up beyond mid thigh. 

"No higher, tuck it in. Yes there." He tucked the hem into my panties each side I liked his fingers on my flesh. He made no attempt to touch me further. 

"Damn silly things won't turn, perhaps I can reach the other side better." I switched sides and reached the pin at my ankle with a finger, but could not get it to turn. 

"You are enjoying this aren't you." I accused him, feeling very hot.

"Of course, that is the whole point of bondage. How often do you think I get to see a perfect stranger voluntarily in bondage with her skirt up round her waist and secured by a few bits of rope, four poles and a few steel rings?" He was positively beaming.

I returned to try the other ankle and the skirt fell back again restricting me further. "This damn skirt is in the way! Please take it off?"

"What did you say?" he said in a strained voice.

I stood still and said in a clam voice. "Please take my skirt off its getting in the way." 

He unzipped it and slid it down past my hips. He released one pole at a time and I stepped out of it. I felt sure he could smell me. I know I could. I saw his fingers go white as he tightened the screw things. 'He's done them up tighter,' I thought, 'the Bastard. Perhaps I won't let him have me.'

I tried really hard but ended up with the poles behind me unable to move with-out falling over. I was stuck.

"I cannot get free and seem to be stuck like this please let me go."

"I thought you wanted to see what the other rings were used for?" He said.

"Yes, but please let me out of this ridiculous position. Its embarrassing."

"Would you like a photograph to remember what it felt like?" He smiled that sweet innocent smile again.

'Photo's ,' I thought 'Oh No what have I let myself in for, I will be all over the net by tomorrow.'

I blushed furiously, but nodded when I saw that it was a Polaroid camera. "Yes please."

He took my photo. He helped me up and sat me back on the settee.

"Just think how you would feel if you were naked." he said, as he released the poles securing my ankles to my wrists. 

I blushed again, but said nothing. 

"Would you like to walk to the bar and sit on the stool facing me." He said.

I thought to myself, 'I would like to sit on your cock facing you,' but did as asked.

He went behind the bar and said, "This is what the other rings are for," and in a trice had the bar spreading my arms hooked to a rope over the ring in the ceiling. 

I struggled a little, but said nothing. 'Oh,' I thought, 'he can feel my tits now, things are defiantly going in the right direction. I think I will let him fuck me.'

He took some more rope and fastened the centre ring of the wood between my legs to the barstool. I was going nowhere. He took the wine glass and offered it to me. 

"Just ask if you want another sip." He said

I said. "Thank you, but I could do with a stiff whiskey!" 

He went behind me and poured a large scotch. And found more rope with metal bits attached. He laid one at each end of the bar, then stood in front of me and put the glass to my lips. I took several sips and ran the fire round my mouth before swallowing.

"What are they for?" I asked in a bold voice.

"Would you like to really see how it feels to be under a mans power strung up and helpless?" He asked.

"Yes I think I would." I smiled and licked my lips.

"A little more whiskey first perhaps?"

I opened my mouth and in three mouthfuls had half emptied the glass. It had been at least a triple measure. I thought, 'For Gods sake man you don't need to get me drunk. Why don't you just fuck me.'

"You are rather over dressed for the full treatment, but I suppose you will get to feel most of the effects."

I thought 'That's more like it.' I said, "What is to stop you tearing my clothes off me any way, with me strung up like this?"

"Oh I would not do anything so crude, or rough. I like submission, not domination." He said in a sober voice.

I thought, 'What a wimp.' 

He sipped his wine.

"Let my arms loose and I will take my blouse off." I said quietly thinking, 'Well if he won't I will.' I thought. I said, "I cannot run away."

He undid the two screw things and my hands were free. He stood back and smiled at me. I drank half the remaining scotch. 

He sat on the damn settee! And turned to look at me. 

I looked him in the eye and slowly undid the buttons of my blouse and slipped it off my shoulders. I let it fall to the floor. I took the last of the whiskey in two gulps. I reached behind my back and released the bra catch and let it fall forward. I held it to me for a moment then let it fall to the floor. I sat up straight pushed my tits out and held my wrists out.

"You can shackle me again now!" I said. I thought 'you can play with my tits if you like and then fuck me.' 

I smiled as he refitted the poles and pulled my arms above my head spread wide by the pole. I knew this would make my tits an inviting sight, but he made no attempt to touch them. I had a bad thought, 'perhaps he is gay!'

"Are you comfortable?" he asked. 

I said, "Yes you won't take advantage of me will you?"

"If you want me to stop all you have to say is Stop, stop, stop. Alright?" he was pissing me off, why did he not get on with it.

I nodded.

He said. "Would you like me to take a photo of you like that?"

I blushed, again but breathed a soft, "Yes."

He set up the camera on the tripod and told me to smile and took my photograph with him beside me. He moved closer so I stuck my tits out further, he ignored them. 

"You are very beautiful you know, I almost wish that I could do what I liked with you. How do you feel?" 

'Silly bastard you can,' I thought.

"I feel very strange. On a tremendous high, I cannot believe that I have let you do this to me, yet it feels very nice." I was telling the truth.

"Do you mean that you are sexually turned on?" he asked.

I blushed, nodded my head, but said nothing. 'Thank goodness he will fuck me now.' I thought. 

He fixed another rope and metal things to the eye in the wood between my ankles attached it to an eye in the wall and pulled it tight. My legs were pulled up in the air.

"How about another picture then?" he asked and when I did not reply he snapped away.

"It would look much better without the panty hose." He said.

I thought 'Well rip the bloody things off or go get a knife, come on I want to be fucked and the sooner the better.' He did not move. I whimpered.

"Did you say something?" he said looking intently at me.

I whispered in the tiniest of voices. "Let me take them off then."

"What did you say?" he asked sharply.

"Let me take them off, please?"

"That's better, you did say please and you did say take them off?"

I nodded. 

"But I would have to undo all ropes and shackles to do that." He waited while I thought about it.

"Will you please let me loose. I will let you tie me up again." 'That's if you do not want to fuck me as soon as I am naked.' I thought

"You mean you will let me restrain you like this again?" He asked.

"Yes, but please do it soon, I want to try it naked!" I was blushing furiously.

He quickly let me free. I was out of panties and hose in a flash, but he just fitted the ankle cuffs and ropes and wood again. While I sat on a wet barstool. He refitted the ankle cuffs as I sat naked on the barstool. 

I was still blushing, 'What are you waiting for, stupid man.' I was getting more cross, there he was, a naked woman sat on a stool in his room and he was fiddling around with bits of wood, rope and metal.

"When I lift you, you will swing towards the settee a little, but don't worry its quite safe. I will move the stool as your weight shifts."

I felt his hands on me as he adjusted the wooden things beneath me. 'Ah, he is quite strong and surely he must fuck me soon.'

"Just a few more adjustments and you will be quite comfortable, would you like a little more whiskey?"

I shook my head, "No thank you." I thought, 'I would like a good fuck.'

He fiddled about and at one point put both hands on my body but only to adjust my weight and position. I was eventually in the air spread naked with legs wide, arms up above my head and also spread wide and all he did was take pictures of me.

"Yes, please take pictures of me!" My voice full of emotion.

He took the whole pack of 24 perhaps 36.

I was getting angry. I was hot, I was bothered. I was wet as wet could be and he would not even touch me.

He asked me how I felt and reminded me that all I had to say was stop three times and he would stop. I smiled radiantly back at him. He finally came close to my defenseless body. His hands reached out, not quite touching. I was trembling as he took the last of the photo's a close up of my FACE when there was a dripping cunt there for him to use.

"Well Jessica, what do you think of Bondage and Submission now? He asked.

"I do not know. It is so sexy, yet so gentle, so easy and so stimulating!" There was a touch of sarcasm in my voice. 'Its not up to much if you never get to fuck,' I thought, 'I was ready ages ago.'

"Yes, but you thought these ropes and cuffs and spreaders were for torture. I have not touched you in any suggestive way. I have not taken advantage of the situation. Why did you assume that bondage and submission meant torture?"

"Well you could do absolutely anything and I am helpless!" I was breathing hard trying to get him to do something about it.

"Ah, now you begin to see the light. I could do some dreadful things to you!"

"I could take my clothes of and have sex with you in any position I wanted, but I am here talking to you about how you feel. Does that not make you wonder about how I feel about this situation?"

"You would not be normal if you weren't turned on!" I was almost shouting.




A Slave's Story



"Of course I am turned on! But I want this situation to be repeated. Indeed, I want this situation to be repeated many times. If I were to take advantage of the situation there would be no chance of that, so I have to proceed at a pace dictated by you!"

"You are in charge of what happens next. I will do exactly what you want!"

He looked at me intently waiting to hear what I had to say. I bit my lip.

"But if I asked you to let me free would you do it?" There was an implied negative in my voice.

He was a real Stupid Bastard and turned my question back at me.

"But then you would not know how far this situation could go. I would of course set you free. You would get dressed and I would say goodbye and you would go home not knowing how far you were prepared to let this situation develop. You would have learnt a little about me. You would have learnt a little about yourself, but you would always wonder just how far..." he let the sentence fade away unfinished.

"Well just where could this situation go?"

"Jessica I will give you an honest answer. I DO NOT KNOW, but I want to find out!"

I mulled this over for quite a few seconds. "I have never wanted sex so much in all my life, but do not know how, when or even if it will happen!"

"Yes it's a delicious condition to be in isn't it?"

"Well are you going to take advantage of me or not?" I was flushed and breathing hard.

"Jessica I could but that could destroy the mood. Could I perhaps take you to a higher plane of sensation?"

"Dear God, I am as high as a kite already. How could you get me more desperate?"

"Well I could touch you, er... perhaps your cheek or waist or even thigh."

"Good God man you can touch me anywhere why prevaricate?"

"I was just answering your question." He calmly explained.

"But I need to be fucked!" I blurted out. "I need to orgasm!"

"But Jessica we only met this evening hardly two hours ago. I do not want to take advantage of your situation I just wanted to..."

"For Gods sake, touch me, fuck me, fuck me any way you like, but don't just stand there talking!"

He moved slowly forward one finger extended. The finger got closer and closer to my left nipple.

"Jesus I am coming already! Touch me you Bastard!" I was really struggling, arching my back, thrusting my breast high, and trying to get contact.

He finally relented and made contact. I came!

The current of passion flashed between the tip of his finger and my hard nipple and I gasped and shuddered beneath that simple touch.

"If you don't fuck me, you had better kill me rather than let me loose because I will not be responsible for my actions when I fuck you to death! Fuck me you bastard!" I was angry, roused to a passion. I wanted to be fucked hard and now not in a few minutes. This waiting was torture.

And so he complied. Slowly, a hand, a tongue, a mouth, then both hands, then hands and mouth.

I had had so many orgasms before he finally entered me and I could not touch back. Oh such wicked torture.

I was screaming as I felt him cum after a furious ten-second fuck!

I think I lost consciousness a few seconds later.

I felt a cold wet object at my mouth. I was on the settee and James was naked beside me an ice cube held to my lips. I had another orgasm, a great shudder traveling through my entire body.

"Did I Die?" I asked him.

"No Jessica you did not die, but I suspect that you will never have an experience like that again: ever!" 

'I hope I don't have to wait that long again either,' I thought. 'But it was a great fuck!'

I realized that he had also lost control because he had not asked about using a condom or about any health issues. Men are such pliable creatures.

"Can I stay the night?" I asked.

"Of course, I expected you to, the moment I saw you." He said.

'Smug bastard,' I thought. 'But he did give me what I wanted in the end.'

*

Author's Note

Dear reader, the next chapter in this series is:-

If you are Male then read A Master Story Chapter 2. Due Nov 06

If you are Female then read A Masters Story Chapter 1. Released Oct 06

Most of the background information is in A Masters Story.

Most of the plot information and clues are in A Slaves Story.



A Slave's Story



She pumped me through my orgasm and withdrew her fingers. I slumped to the floor, completely spent and felt tears running down my cheeks. She licked her fingers clean of my juices and left. I lie there on the floor - a whimpering mess. At that moment I hated Diane for doing what she did. It was total humiliation and not what I wanted to happen. I only wanted to please her and Mike, but she clearly had other ideas about it.

A few minutes later she came in and told me to get dressed and stop acting like a baby. What she had planned for tonight would be nothing compared to this.

Part 4

Diana left me alone until dinner time. The three of us had a great meal, this time prepared by Mike. Afterwards, I felt better and even curious as to what they had planned for me that evening. Diana had me shower and put on the black dress we had bought. I was to wear nothing underneath it.

I pulled the dress over my body as Diana admired how it hugged every curve. She was very pleased as to how it showed off my full breasts and ass. I, on the other hand, felt very self-conscious about it. I knew that I was to be on public display that night and was a little wary. Diana sensed that and reassured me that nothing 'bad' would happen to me, but I was a bit skeptical about it after the dressing room incident.

Finally, we were all ready and Mike drove us to a rather upscale dance club. I had never been in there before as it really wasn't my scene. Apparently Mike and Diana went there a lot as more than a few people waved hello to them.

Once we were inside, I was given my instructions. I was to wander around by myself. I was to allow anyone to touch my ass or tits but they couldn't go further. After an hour I was to find them back at the bar and I would find out what was to happen next. Diana let me have one drink to get my courage up and off I went.

I wandered around the club amid the loud music and flashing lights. I didn't want to have anyone come near me, but it was hard to avoid since it was a crowded place. I was extremely self-conscious about my body. The dress hugged and rubbed against my skin. It barely covered my ass and my breasts. The first man to notice me came right up behind me and groped my ass and moved his hand under the dress to touch my bare skin. I gasped but didn't pull away. I had to let him do this and I knew Diana would be watching somehow. His fingers brushed my smooth pussy lips and he grunted approval before moving away.

I was grateful that the hour passed quickly. A few different men groped my body as if they were trying me out. None of them spoke more than a few words such as "nice tits" or "can't wait to see that cunt". When the hour was up, I found Diana and Mike. I realized I was more than a little aroused at that point.

They smiled at me and led me to the back of the club to a small office. We went inside and closed the door. The room was brightly lit. I looked around and saw that it was just that - an office. A desk and some chairs were present along with file cabinets. I did notice that in the corner was a video camera. It was then I realized what was going to happen. All those men that had handled me were going to use me. I quickly counted in my head how many and remembered four different ones. I began to tremble slightly.

Mike went out and left Diana and myself alone. She went over to me and tried to soothe me.

"Don't worry, you'll enjoy yourself. You'll be begging for those cocks to be in you," she purred in my ear.

She stroked my cheek with her soft hand and I shuddered. She began to kiss me and run her tongue along my lips. I turned my head aside slightly and she laughed. At that moment Mike came back inside with all four men that had checked me out that night. The 'fun' was about to begin.

Mike went over to the video camera and turned it on. I was to be the 'star' of the show. Diana took a seat off the to side and told the men to do whatever they wanted with me.

I don't know who these men were or what their names were. It was strictly anonymous sex and I was merely their slave for the night. I can only refer to them by their looks.

The first guy to step forward had long, blonde hair. He stood before me and I could already see the bulge growing in his pants.

"On your knees, slut," he growled.

I knelt before him and found I was face to face with the bulge. He quickly opened his pants and pulled out his cock. He leaned forward and rubbed it around my face, lightly smacking my face with his slowly stiffening shaft. I knelt obediently before him.

"Open your mouth and suck me."

I reached up and took his cock in my mouth and began to stroke and suck him. He slapped my hands away.

"Just your mouth, you stupid bitch."

I kept my hands to the side and sucked on his cock hard in my mouth. Soon he was groaning and moving faster. He clamped his hands on the side of my head and began to fuck my mouth. His huge cock began to force its way deep into my throat making me gag. Saliva started coming out of my mouth and dripping down my chin and splattering my dress. My mouth began to feel numb as he fucked my face. Each thrust brought him deep into my mouth. His balls were pushing against my chin and his pubic hair tickled my nose. His moaning grew louder and I knew he was almost there.

"Oh yeahhhh...that's it, slut, take me deep."

He stopped thrusting and I felt his cum suddenly flood my mouth. I gagged a little but swallowed all of his cum. He pulled out of my mouth and little dribbled on my face. He wiped his cock on my face, patted my head and took a seat on the other side of the room.

The next man was also blond, but his hair was cut very short. He was extremely good-looking as well. I looked up at him as he smiled down at me and pulled me to my feet. He pulled my dress up to my waist so my pussy and ass were exposed. 

"Get up on the desk and lean back," he ordered.

I climbed on the desk and did as he asked. He pushed my legs open and immediately began to lick my pussy lips. Small waves of pleasure radiated throughout my body as his tongue went to work, lapping and sucking my already wet pussy. Each time he thrust his tongue into my wet hole, I moaned. I couldn't believe how turned on I was.

One of the other men, a dark-haired one, moved over to the side of the desk and took his cock out of his pants. He waved it in my face for a second before placing it at my lips. He ordered me to suck, and I did. It was hard to concentrate, though, as the first guy had now inserted too fingers in my dripping cunt, but I sucked hard, eager to please him and my Mistress who was watching me intently.

After a few more minutes of finger-fucking, I was getting extremely hot. The blond guy stopped and stood up, unzipping his pants to free his hard cock. He placed it at the entrance to my pussy and pushed it in hard. I groaned against the cock I was sucking and eagerly took him in. I felt my legs being lifted up and placed on his shoulders. He began to pound me hard. I sucked harder on the other guy's cock as my pussy was rammed hard by the blond guy. In the back of my mind I wanted them to cum at the same time so I could have cum in my mouth and deep in my cunt. I knew how slutty I was becoming and I'm sure Diana enjoyed it.

Both of the men were yelling encouragements at me. I felt my breasts wobbling under the tight dress as I was pounded unmercifully. It only turned me on more as my nipples were rubbed by the tight material. I was getting close to cumming when the dark haired guy suddenly pulled his cock out of my mouth and came all over my face. He pumped his hard shaft several times to spurt his warm cum on my face, neck and hair. It was all too much for the blond guy - he yelled out and exploded deep in my pussy. I gasped and felt my own body responding and we came together in burst of energy. My pussy clenched around his cock and milked it hard almost pulling the cum from his cock.

I lied on the desk and caught my breath after that incredible orgasm before getting up. I was allowed to wipe the cum off my face and stretch. Diana offered a sip of her drink and I thanked her. There was still one guy left. However, my body was on fire - it was tingling and ready for more.

The last guy had long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. He had already had his cock out and was stroking it by the time I noticed him. Pulling off his pants and shirt, he lie down on the desk, his huge cock flopping over onto his belly.

"Come over her and suck my cock for a bit, slut."

I walked over and leaned over him, taking his cock in my mouth and began to suck hard, playing with his hardening balls.

Up until now, all the men were somewhat silent about their fucking. Mostly it was grunts and moans, but this guy liked to talk dirty to me. 

"Oh yeah, take it all into your mouth - take it deep."

I opened my mouth wider and deep throated him.

"Ohgodyes...", he moaned as he grasped my head in his hands and pushed my mouth down. 

I started to gag a little and he stopped.

"Climb up here and push that slutty cunt of yours down on my cock."

I got up on the desk and straddled him, letting my pussy slowly glide down on his stiff shaft. I moaned as it filled my pussy, still slick from cumming earlier.

"mmmm....you have a nice, hot cunt. Lean over me a little."

I leaned over and watched him yank each thin strap off my dress.

"Lean back and pull your dress down so I can see those tits."

He watched me hungrily as I pulled the material over my breasts, setting them free. My nipples were already hard.

"Oh yeah...nice tits...big and full."

He reached up and began to tweak my nipples, pulling and pinching them until I was moaning loudly.

"You like that, don't you slut?"

"Yessss...I do...."

He responded by pulling me down so he could suck on my nipples. I squirmed around on his cock as he did that.

"Oh yeah, ride me, you bitch. Ride my cock."

I moved my pussy around on his cock, humping him hard and he bit my nipples. I felt like a bitch in heat.

At this time, Mike gave the video camera to Diana and moved behind me, but I couldn't tell what he was doing until I felt the tip of finger brush against my asshole. I jumped a little at the sensation which made them both laugh.

"You ever do double penetration, bitch?" the dark-haired guy asked.

I shook my head no and he only laughed. "Well, there is a first time for everything."

I felt Mike get on the desk behind me and force the tip of his cock against my asshole. He spit on his hand and rubbed his cock before thrusting it in. When he did, I screamed loudly as my ass was very tight and not used to having a cock in it. Both men responded by assaulting me harder. My tits were mauled, licked and bitten. My nipples were swollen and there was red bite marks on my soft tit-flesh. My pussy and ass were completely filled with cock as they pummeled me. But still, I fucked them right back as my mind began to blank out a bit. I was totally driven by this animal desire to be fucked hard and taken.

Both men were calling me a cunt, a slut and a whore over and over as their cocks filled my fuck holes. My whole body felt electrified as they pounded me over and over. I was thrashing and moaning against their cocks and I wanted to cum very badly. And I was getting close.

The dark-haired guy looked up at me. "Tell us what you want, whore."

"Oh please...I want to fucked hard. I want you to fill me pussy and ass. I want my tits to be sucked raw."

"Do you want to cum?"

"Oh yes...I want to cum very much," I whined.

"Then cum....cum all over my cock. Let your juices coat me."

I shut my eyes and concentrated on the cocks filling me and stretching me. Suddenly I felt a huge wave building fast in my body. My body felt weak and my vision clouded a bit but I still knew I was going to cum hard. I leaned back and screamed - "OH YESSS...CUMMINGGG!!!!"

I rode hard and slumped over the dark-haired guy, not even knowing if they had cum and within seconds, I blacked out.

When I came too, I was lying on the desk by myself. I could feel cum leaking out of both holes. I felt weak and spent and I was shivering. Mike was showing the guys out the door and Diana was by my side helping me up.

"We are so proud of you, Dee," she said softly. "What a good slut you are now."

I nodded weakly and pulled my dress back to the correct position after wiping the cum off my legs. All I wanted to do was to go back to my own apartment and take a hot bath. The entire weekend had caught up to me suddenly.

Diana knew how I was feeling and together we walked out of the room and found Mike. We had a silent ride back to their apartment where I was allowed to change and get my stuff and go home. 

Diana congratulated me on becoming their newest slut and looked forward to using me again sometime. As tired as I was, I also wanted to see them again.