4 comments/ 124055 views/ 11 favorites Labor Day Lesbian Rapture By: susietreasure (This story is not for minors or anyone offended by descriptions of sexual exploration between adventurous women. All characters are ... well, you figure it out for yourself. Feedback is welcome!) When I was very young I had an experience with two older female cousins on a vacation in the country. It was brief but intense and I forgot about it as quickly as possible. But of course it left a mark. I'm now 37, divorced (my husband turned out to be gay – and judging from the quality of our sex life I should have known a lot sooner), living alone and sick and tired of men and bars. I work in the graphics department of a medium-sized advertising firm and I recognize that my job, which can be challenging and fun and even enjoyable most times, isn't contributing much to humanity. In my off-time I sketch and for the past year I have finally let my imagination run a bit wild. My sketchbooks are full of women, women of all shapes and kinds. I simply love the female body. And though I appreciate male beauty, it's only an intellectual or aesthetic appreciation. Men leave me cold. I suppose the fact that my sexual interactions with them haven't been terribly exciting is one reason; but there's more too it. I find them so utterly narcissistic that I can't stand them, their selfishness, their unkindnesses. Yet I've been afraid to venture into the world of lesbianism – until very recently and in what I think was a very big way (but maybe I'm fooling myself – you be the judge). My sketches have become more and more erotic, and darker... I have been drawn (and drawing!) powerful, beautiful and feminine women, and I've found myself craving a taste of their control. Most of my friends are married and now raising kids, so my social circle is not the place to experiment. Although I love to masturbate, and have pleasured myself creatively, I needed more. At one point I even thought about hiring an escort service! But I'm too shy, or maybe too cowardly, for that. Let me describe myself. I'm rather tall at 5'9", 135 lbs, with a firm protruding ass. My breasts are 34C, but my waist is very narrow and my legs slender. My belly is taut and I've taken pains to stay in shape. My long red hair falls down to my waist. I'm a looker, but the wrong sex has been looking at me. What I'm about to describe occurred over the past labor day weekend. I've no-one I can tell, so I thought I'd write this up behind the cloak of anonymity in the hope that readers somewhere will share in my excitement. I've never really thought of myself as a writer, so forgive me the awkwardness of expression here. And I suspect that I'm probably older than the average person who writes these kinds of things. On the Saturday before the long holiday weekend I was terribly terribly frustrated. My whole body seemed to crave touch and I was on the verge of venturing to a bar to pick up a man for a night, even though I swore I would never do so again. I lay in bed gently caressing my large nipples and running my fingers along the sides of my thighs and lightly across my pussy lips, but I stopped myself short. I wanted more, I wanted ... well I wasn't exactly sure, but the thought of kneeling before a lovely strong woman wouldn't leave me. I tried to keep my fantasies in check but they overcame me and I finally gave in to daydreaming and sketching my thoughts. I sketched rapidly, my heart racing as I traced the figure of myself kneeling on the floor, hands tied behind my back, kissing the shoes of an elegant leather-clad brunette while an equally beautiful woman stood behind me, crop in hand. I quickly shut the sketch book and took a long walk. It was a beautiful day. I considered responding to my friends' invitations to join them for barbecues and dinner, but when I returned home a burning inside me, a burning for something alive and adventurous and risky, took hold. I knew better what I wanted. As I walked I gazed lewdly at women, young and old. I wanted to be held and bound and degraded and excited and ordered about and fucked, fucked hard, and maybe even whipped... I felt as if I were going crazy. And mostly I wanted to lick the lovely pussies of a lesbian couple, one by one, and yes, I kind of wanted to be their slave for a night. Aside from the time with my cousins I had never kissed a woman. I wished so much to feel warm succulent lips on mine, to have my breasts fondled and pinched, my flesh caressed. I finally screwed up my courage and decided to go alone to one of the two notorious lesbian bars in town (I live in a big city). I felt I could go rather anonymously and fought through the dread of being discovered by someone I knew. I had no plan except to go, and to go late in the hopes I would be picked up. I took a long bath and nearly lost my nerve. No, I wouldn't back down now. What did I have to lose? I was an adult, 37 ... I guess I worried about rejection, about going unseen in a place full of young people. But I knew I was still attractive. I dressed skimpily, sexily, in a way I had contemplated but never dared before. I donned a white silk camisole and didn't bother with a bra, and I slipped on a black leather vest. Then a white silk thong and a short black leather mini-skirt that I'd never worn before. And cowboy boots. I thought I would look silly at first but as I gazed at myself in the mirror I became aroused thinking of someone perhaps lifting up my skirt or gently parting my vest. I made my face up, to accentuate my hazel eyes, and yet still felt something was missing.....something that would send a message. Yes!, I thought, a choker or collar.... I rummaged about in vain but hit on the idea of cutting an old thin leather belt to fit around my neck. It was a braided belt and as I slid it through the buckle around my neck I thought mischievously that any domme worth her salt would leash me without thinking twice. A glass of wine gave me the courage to leave, finally, and when I entered "Loveladies" it was midnight. I walked straight to the bar and took the only empty seat I could find. It was crowded, people were dancing, and the music was loud. I ordered tequila and I noticed that the barmistress smiled. "You look a little nervous," she said. "Waiting for someone?" I smiled shyly. "Not really." She left and served other patrons. As I sipped on my drink I began to relax and look around. Just as I thought, most of the women were younger than I. A lot were butch. They all looked to be in couples. I felt as if I had barged in on a party. I didn't think anyone even glanced my way. I felt as if I were in costume at a non-costume event! The barmistress returned and served me a second without my ordering. "This is on me," she said. "First timers special." She was about my height and weight, great figure. Her black silk blouse accentuated lovely breasts. Her jeans were tight and supple. Then as she laid the drink before me she grabbed my hair with her left hand and pulled my head back and kissed me full on the lips. A few girls started to clap and snicker as I blushed. "That's to let everybody know that you're mine, sweetie." She kissed me again and I let myself melt into it. "I get off at 1, so what I'd like you to do is get yourself warmed up on the dance floor before I take you home." I knocked down the second drink and slinked into the crowd and just let myself flow to the music a bit. Before I knew it I had a partner, and then another, and another, and I danced from song to song with the anticipation of being with a beautiful woman just as I had desired. Was it that easy? A sexy blond pulled on my vest and kissed me and I glanced at the barmistress who nodded and smiled. I guessed it was OK. In fact, it was delicious and the blond and I had our arms around each other's necks, kissing and gyrating, and the music was increasing our fervor and then suddenly the barmistress yanked my arms away from my partner and put them around her waist. She ground herself into me as I held her hips and then she very lightly touched my breasts. My pussy became wet instantaneously and when the song finished she ushered me out of the club and into the cool air of the street. "I live a block away, sweetie, can you make it that far?" I smiled. "Of course." "What's your name" she asked as we strolled arm in arm in the dark. "Susie," I answered, "and yours?" She paused for a moment. "I think I'll have you call me 'Mistress' for now." My knees nearly buckled. Mistress lived on the third floor of a big townhouse. She slammed the door behind us after we entered her apartment and pinned my arms above me head and against the door as she kissed me passionately. My head was spinning from the drinks and lust. She kept my wrists together with her left hand and with her right she caressed my flank, my thighs and then my breasts. I gave a sigh as her warm hand played about my nipples. Mistress was so lovely, so beautiful, so forceful.... Her features were refined and her skin olive: she looked Mediterranean, gorgeous. What had I been waiting for? Why had I resisted for so many years? I sank into her and pressed my pelvis against hers. She spread my legs apart with her knees, kissing, pressing, licking. "You are so luscious, my sweet little slut, my sweet little Susie!" She bit into my neck and brought her right hand up to my face and held my chin as she kissed me again. My arms were still pinned above my head. "On your knees" she whispered. I was breathing heavily and obeyed without hesitation. The apartment was dark but I could see Mistress by the light of the windows. She was removing her jeans. I could smell her aromatic pussy and I longed to tongue it. But she had other ideas first. She stood before me in her elegant heels, thong and black silk blouse. Her brown hair hung luxuriantly on her shoulders. She seemed to be about 30, and with a body to kill for. Mistress removed my vest very gently and then lifted my blouse up and away. Then she placed my leather vest back again, tying it loosely together at the bottom with its leather laces.... "I like you in leather, Susie, I like to see your breasts behind that lovely vest," she purred. "But I want your skirt off, now." I hurriedly undid the buttons at the back and unwrapped myself. She threw the skirt across the room. "Arch your back for me while you kneel, my little slut." I did as she asked, straining against the desire to thrust my face forward into Mistress's cunt. She knelt before me. "How's my little cowgirl?" she teased, obviously referring to my boots and vest. She kissed me on the lips but pulled my arms behind my back, and then she gathered my thong in her hand and lifted it upwards. Its pressure into my slit sent shocks through me, and now with two hands, one on my beckoning ass and the other in front, she yanked on the thong hard. "Do you like that, Susie?" she asked. "Oh, yes!" I exclaimed. She pulled harder and I began to squirm with wet delight. "Please keep still, slut." It was impossible. "Why are you so disobedient?" she asked softly. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mistress, I can't help it, you make me so fucking hot!" The first slap stung my cheek and made my head spin. "How dare you use obscenities with your Mistress?" She pulled my head back and slapped me even harder, this time on the mouth. "I know what you want, Susie, I know exactly what you want, and I'm going to give it to you, and even more: you'll get far more than you bargained for." Mistress stood up and grabbed my hair and violently jerked my head to and fro. "I saw it in your eyes at the bar, my little submissive slut," she whispered. "We're going to have quite a time this weekend." Weekend? I was growing mildly delirious with a mixture of desire and fear. What did she mean? What did she have in store? What the hell was I doing in this situation? Had I lost my mind? Mistress dragged me by my hair over to a sofa and had me kneel before it. She removed something from a side-table's drawer and within moments my hands had been bound behind me with cord. It was a curiously exhilarating feeling to give in to Mistress, to give up control. She now began to secure my wrists to my ankles, winding the cord around my boots to make sure my back would be arched while I was on my knees – and to make sure I couldn't get to my feet even if I tried! My firm breasts jutted out and my hair hung languorously behind me and I knew I looked quite fetching. Mistress now untied the laces of my vest and pulled the vest back to expose my breasts. My nipples were crying for attention. I grew tired and began to sit back a little on my legs but Mistress sternly pulled me up. "I thought I told you to keep your back arched for me?" she said tenderly. "I'm sorry," I replied meekly. She offered the back of her hand to my lips and I kissed it instinctively. Then she slapped my cheek rather viciously. It was somehow a delicious feeling, the sting and burn of my cheek, the calling me to order. "Thank you, Mistress," I breathed out huskily, dreamily. She smiled down on me. "So, my dear Susie, what do you want?" "I want to please you," I said simply. "You look so wanton, such a whore....I think I'll make a record of this lovely image." Mistress sat before me on the sofa as I, on my knees, faced her and her delicious wet cunt, and the flash from a camera she had surreptitiously snatched blinded me. And another, and another, and another. "Just think what I can do with these, Susie!" she taunted. I blushed. "Now I have just one question for you, dear, just one.....are you ready?" I gulped but nodded. "But I don't want you to answer hastily, so after I ask I'll give you some time to think." I was growing perplexed. "Susie, dear," she cooed as she lifted my chin, "will you do anything I ask, anything? Don't nod, don't answer, just savor the question. And if you do agree you will agree to put yourself completely in my hands, an utter stranger, and you will be my property until Monday evening, ready to do anything I bid. Don't agree unless you're willing to take the risk. If you refuse, which is what any sensible person would do, I'll simply unbind you and send you back to where you came from. But if you have the guts to go along with me, then one sweet wet pussy will be yours to lick tonight. And that's just the beginning." She stole away quietly leaving me on my knees in the dark, my breasts, my pussy aching, my whole body aflame. She knew I would never be able to refuse. When she returned she was completely naked except for her black heels. She sat before me and spread her legs. "If you agree, nod; if not, shake your pretty head." I nodded. She lay back at the end of the sofa and her feet rested on the cushions directly in front of me. "What are you waiting for?" she queried. I'd been so fixated on her pussy that I grew confused until realizing what I needed to do. I brought my lips to her elegant black pumps and slowly licked, first the sides, then the soles and then the heels. "Good girl," she murmured. I kept at it while she began to purr and the scent from her cunt grew even stronger and more irresistible. "I see you like degrading yourself....I like that in a slut." Then Mistress moved herself before me and spread her legs and held them up by her arms wide apart. "Keep your fucking back arched," she reminded me. I was mesmerized by the vision of her smooth-shaven pussy and tight puckered netherhole. "Do you like what you see?" she teased. "Oh, Mistress, I love it, I love it!" "How can it be that 2 hours ago I was serving you drinks and now you, a grown woman, a professional of some sort, is on her knees panting with lust for the cunt of a woman whose name you don't even know?" I breathed slowly. "You turn me on, Susie, you turned me on at the bar when I first laid eyes on you." I was speechless and so so horny and so so grateful..... With a deft quick action she brought my face into her pussy and ground herself against my mouth. I was in a frenzy as I licked her, my entire face bathed in her juices as I began to work my tongue up her slit from the bottom, and back down again, and quickly sideways. I had thought so much about how I would eat a woman that it all seemed second nature, so easy, so exciting. My Mistress moaned as she now held her legs aloft and gave me free rein to pleasure her. And pleasure he I did, nibbling on her nether-bud's rim, pressing my tongue into her ass, sucking on it, and then moving up to her delectably pungent and slippery cunt. Mistress pulled my head away suddenly and I grew afraid, but it was only to lavish a long wet kiss on my submissive pleasuring lips. Then I was back at her pussy and ass again and I could feel her start to rumble and quiver. Her flat hard stomach began to contract and her pussy involuntarily thrust against my mouth and Mistress screamed freely in orgasmic delight. I drank her cum and shook my head from side to side against her mound and she wrapped her legs around my neck and pressed me harder against her, and as she bucked I slathered her clit and sucked up on it fiercely to send her into ecstasy. Oh yes, finally, finally I was fulfilling my dream! "You ... are ... so ... fucking ... good... Susie," gasped my lover. I still couldn't get enough of her cunt and thighs, so I nibbled and gently licked and kissed, taking care now to avoid her oversensitive bud. It felt so utterly natural to be bound before her, completely at her service, bound but yet so free in pleasing this beautiful dominatrix. And I wanted more ... more pleasing, more binding, more teasing.... I wanted her to tie me up or down and stretch me over or out and do whatever she fucking well wanted with me! Just then I heard a door open .....and into the apartment sauntered another woman whom I could barely discern in the dimness of the room and the haze of my frenzied lust. But as she bent over to kiss my exhausted Mistress I recognized her as the sexy blond who had kissed and danced with me at the bar. "Is she good, Gwen?" asked the girl. "Very good, my dear," answered Gwen, my erstwhile Mistress-lover. "I could barely wait to join you." She turned to me. "You like to please, don't you?" "Yes, Mistress," I replied. "I'm not your Mistress," she said, smirking, "I'm Gwen's special pet, Heather." "Yes, Heather," I smiled. "Well, with Gwen's permission, I'd like you to please me now." "Turn me on, Heather," whispered Gwen. "Do you have a name?" asked Heather. "Susie" I answered softly. "Well, Susie, I'm going to strip for you and Gwen, so why don't you relax." Heather was a beauty: about 5'6" and no more than 115 lbs dripping wet. Her thighs were hard and smooth and toned. Her breasts were small and firm, her stomach so flat.....Her blond hair was short, and I remembered our delicious kiss at the bar as she slowly removed her clothes for us. After she had stripped elegantly to nothing but a skimpy thong she pirouetted and stood before me. Gwen meanwhile had moved to the end of the sofa, obviously enjoying the show. "Now Susie, dear, can you finish it for me, can you get these off with your lovely little mouth?" I grasped the top of the thong with my teeth and then leaned back: it was difficult the way I was bound, having to slide backwards as I tried to lower her undergarment. Heather kept her legs together and after barely a minute I had lowered the thong to her ankles. My back was bent over and my head at her beautiful feet as she stepped out. "Good work, Susie. Now get yourself up and arch your back for me." I did as told. Heather then turned around facing the sofa, extended her arms so that they reached and rested on the tops of the back cushion, and spread her legs. Her magnificent ass was inches from my face. Just as I licked my lips, ready to snake my tongue out to pleasure this sultry gal Gwen's hand came down hard across her buttocks. Labor Day Lesbian Rapture Ch. 02 (This story is not for minors or anyone offended by descriptions of sexual exploration between adventurous women. Feedback always welcome -- I love to hear from readers, esp. dommes! This is a continuation of Lesbian Labor Day Rapture) I lay quietly on the bed and my breathing grew regular again and I was conscious of an incredibly warm glow all over the back of my body. Heather must have given me three dozen blows, but to tell the truth I lost count. I remember that sometimes the lashes would come quickly in a volley, furiously from one buttock to the other, and then that she would tantalizingly trail the tendrils along my spine before coming down with a fiercely harsh stroke that made me quiver and scream into my gag uncontrollably. As I write this I want to assure readers that I am NOT ‘in the lifestyle': this was my first and only taste of hard submission. But it's still so fresh in my mind and I'm tempted to of risk something like this again, and I suppose that if either Heather or Gwen called me I would leap at the opportunity. But frankly I've been afraid to return to Loveladies, afraid to stoke my desires beyond what's healthy, afraid of really going over the edge. And yet.... I just hope you readers understand that I am not advocating doing any of the things I did. Anyway, I lay face down on the soft bed in a delicious sort of stupor, waiting. I was still stretched taut and my nipples were being pinched under my leather bra by the plastic clamps every time I moved and my pussy was seeping and yearning to be filled. At least 30 minutes passed and I was growing tremendously frustrated. I had visions of prostrating myself to Heather, of gently licking along her thighs and pulling apart the sides of her crotchless thong to tease her lovely cunt in gratitude. Where was she? Why was she denying me the pleasure of serving her more fully? She was at least 10 years younger than I and the idea of her youth turned me on even more. But then again, everything that weekend did! I was aware of the flickering candlelight and it soothed me as I wondered what more would be in store for me, wondered about Gwen – where was she? Eventually the door opened and I heard Gwen's sultry voice. She approached as I held my breath and kept my eyes shut fearing to displease her. "Let's see how well you've warmed up the little slut for me," she remarked to Heather. Gwen sat on the bed and stroked my hair and I opened my eyes. "Mmmmm," she went on, "my little Susie's nice and red," and she ran her fingers along my back. "Thank you, Heather." I could hear the two of them kiss as their lips met above and across my body, a long lingering wet kiss. "You ought to be very grateful to my pet, slut," she said to me. "Are you?" "Yes, Mistress," I whispered. Her firm hand lifted my head back and upwards. "Louder, please," she commanded. "Yes, Mistress!" "Now, let's get real," she said ominously. "Heather, darling, stand her up for me." Heather swiftly removed the scarves from the bedposts and yanked me up by my beautiful red hair. She left the scarves attached to my wrists and ankles, however. When I rose and caught sight of Gwen I gasped: she looked absolutely stunning in a fierce magnificent sort of way. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face and hung in a long braid. She wore a sort of elegant leather "bra" that exposed her luscious full breasts and their large dark nipples completely. She also wore the same kind of crotchless leather thong that Heather wore, so I could see her pink lovely pussy lips peeping through. Stiletto-heeled black boots that rose just over her ankles completed this awesome vision. I trembled with anticipation as she stood behind me. Gwen ran her hands along my flanks and I sighed, and then before I knew it she had deftly removed the nipple clamps from under my leather bra. As the blood rushed into my nipples I caught my breath and leaned forward from the sudden pain, but Gwen quickly held my head back. She kissed the nape of my neck and licked my ear so delicately and slowly I thought I would melt. I wanted to turn and kiss her, I wanted to drop to my knees and beg for her to use me as she saw fit, I wanted to lick her boots – I would do anything to please her, this utter stranger…..What had happened to me? She folded my arms behind my back so that my hands were as close to my elbows as possible. This made my breasts jut out as my shoulders were pulled towards my spine. She fastened my hands and forearms very tightly with the trailing scarves and turned me over to Heather. "Heather, dear, please give our slut the tour." Heather guided me – by the hair, as usual – over to a set of louvered doors along the far wall opposite the bed. She opened them and I stepped back in surprise: arranged on the shelf inside the closet were a variety of implements – instruments of torture. I hesitated, fear surging into my breast as my eyes played on the crops, paddles, whips, cuffs, clamps, dildoes… I didn't know real people actually had such things. Heather's grip on my hair tightened as she lowered my head towards a particular flogger, black and with very long spaghetti-like strands knotted on their ends. "Pick it up, slut, now! And get on your knees!" commanded Gwen. I opened my mouth and took the handle of the whip in my tender mouth, clasping it with my teeth, and swiftly knelt. "Take that fucking useless bra off her too!" said Gwen. Heather complied and tossed it across the room. "Now, slut, I want you to crawl over to me, quickly." Gwen was standing in front of one of the small sofas, not far from the windows. I knelt before her looking up at her magnificent strong sexy legs and lovely beckoning breasts. "On your back – hurry!" she urged. I let myself down to my side, awkwardly since my hands were bound behind me, but the whip fell from my mouth. "Pick it up, slut, and try again," she continued impatiently. I bent over and took it into my mouth once more and slowly rolled on my side and then onto my back. I was now staring up at Gwen's pussy as she stood over me, legs apart, back to the sofa. The way my hands were tied and positioned behind me caused my back to arch naturally upwards. Heather began to wind the scarves around my ankles – very tightly, as was her wont. She pushed my bound feet as close to my ass as possible, roughly, and then with another scarf she linked my bound arms to my bound ankles and pulled tight, as tight as she could, before knotting it securely. The effect was that my heels nearly reached my buttocks. I cried out as she grasped my ankles and slid me over the carpet a bit further towards her. Then Heather leapt up like a cat and returned with a set of long cords. She wound the cords around the crooks of my knees and anchored the other ends to the feet of the sofa behind me. This made it impossible for me to pull my legs together. I was splayed open and now she unbuckled my leather thong so that my newly shaven smooth pussy was completely exposed and vulnerable. The thong itself was wet from my excitement. Heather prevented me from squirming backwards to slacken the cords by maintaining her hold on my ankles. Even though I was truly afraid, I couldn't help but appreciate the artistry of my tormentors. With a few scarves and cords they had lain me open like an immobilized prey. They went about their motions deliberately, without rushing, and this gave rise to a mixture of increased fear and anticipatory excitement. Gwen removed the whip from my drooling mouth. "Are you afraid, slut?" she inquired. "A little, Mistress," I lied – in fact, I was afraid a lot. "Just a little?" Gwen lashed the inside of my unprotected right thigh and I yelped, "Oh my god, oh my god, it hurts, oh my, it hurts!" "Just a little?" she asked again, before stroking my left thigh fiercely. I screamed and tried to squirm but Heather held me in place. "Please, Mistress," I said, panting. "Please what?" "Please, Mistres…. It hurts….." said I, wincing still. "Isn't that what you're here for? Isn't that what turns you on, slut? Isn't that why you walked into my bar, bitch?" said Gwen coldly and softly. I gave in and nodded. "You're here to please me, aren't you?" I nodded again. "To do anything I ask, correct? Isn't that what you agreed to?" she continued. "Yes, Mistress." The artful whip came down across my exposed and tender cunt. I moaned as the pain climaxed, and then a warm new glow spread from my loins to my neck. Then Gwen went to work in earnest. She brought the whip across my breasts, my stomach, my thighs, my pussy, relentlessly. I screamed and squealed and quivered and winced. Heather spat on my cunt and the whip seared it and it was all becoming too too much and I thought I would literally faint -- but then it all suddenly stopped. I was heaving and sweating, tremendously relieved but still somehow wanting to please, wanting more, wanting to give more. I fought back tears, but I didn't want my Mistresses them to stop punishing me like the fucking deserving submissive girly whore that I was. Gwen returned to her post alongside me with two lit candles. I knew what was coming and my resolve to bear more torture melted away. "Please, Mistress ... don't, I can't take it," I begged. Gwen knelt beside me and kissed my lips. "Do you know what a ‘safe' word is?" she whispered. I shook my head. "Well," she continued, " it's a word a slave like you can use to keep things from getting too rough….. But there's one little problem." My heart sank. "You don't have one." The next thing I knew a stream of hot wax seared my left breast. It was nearly unbearable – my body arched upwards and twisted and a scream escaped my lips -- but I found I could take it, I discovered that I had the ability to withstand it and then more: to be excited by it. I confess: it was turning me on. I wanted more. And more I got. Gwen took her time and brought the candles closer to my flesh thereby increasing the intensity of the heat and pain, and she left trails of wax all over my breasts, my nipples, my stomach, my splayed thighs. She did this all slowly and deliberately, maximizing my fear and the shock and electric lust. I was crying out and shaking and panting in lust and in fear. "Do you want me to stop, Susie," she asked. I shook my head. No, I wanted to please Mistress, to please myself in pleasing her. I caught my breath and licked my lips, determined to bear all she would offer. The searing wax splashed across my pink labia. I pursed my lips in an "O" but didn't let out a sound. My cunt gushed. She covered my pussy with molten wax as I writhed and flinched. Heather held my legs firmly and the cords from the sofa kept them from instinctively moving inward for protection. Gwen then kissed me, long and deep. "Are you my good little slut?" she cooed. I was sweating and breathing rapidly. "Yes, Mistress," I managed to mutter, "I love what you do to me, Mistress, I love how you make me feel, I'll do whatever you wish, I'm your slut, your total fucking slut." I was babbling deliriously and gulping for air. "And do you know what your Mistress would like from you right now?" she asked seductively. "No, Mistress, please tell me." "Your Mistress would like to see you cleaned up." She paused. "Heather, would you mind?" she continued, handing her the flogger. "Not at all," Heather replied, smiling mischievously. Knowing how well I had pleased Gwen made me believe that Heather was becoming jealous. She rose to her feet and had me kiss the handle of the whip before she commenced. I didn't have the strength to protest. I didn't have the desire either. Strangely enough I had grown so crazed with desire I yearned for more pain from either beautiful young sadistic bitches. Heather was cruel and merciless as she scattered the dried wax with her blows. From time to time she cast a glance at Gwen who caressed the arches of my feet with her fingers as she held me. I had entered a new world, a world where the distinction between pain and pleasure became meaningless, where only intensity, gratitude and excitement mattered. With every vengeful blow of Heather's whip across my breasts or thighs or pussy I knew I was giving Gwen pleasure. I knew I was becoming special. I moaned and writhed in ecstasy. "Harder, Mistress!" I shouted. "More, more! Punish me, you bitch!" Heather deviously complied, directing a series of sharp relentless blows across my cunt. "You fucking slut!" she shouted, whipping me. "Take that, you bitch!" "Fuck yes, harder, fucking whip me you fucking bitch!" I was in a frenzy and in a flash I found myself cumming, screaming wildly with release. Heather lost no time in slapping my mouth viciously, admonishing me: "Keep quiet, bitch, what do you think you're doing?" I was still in spasms from my orgasm as she disciplined me. "Oh dear," frowned Gwen as she tested my cunt with her finger, coating it with my cum and inserting it into her mouth, "Heather made you cum without my permission...." She hesitated, and cast a disapproving glance at Heather. "What a pity. She should know better than that." Gwen glowered at Heather and forced her to her knees as she attached a leash to her collar and roughly cuffed her hands behind her back. Heather seemed dazed as she was led to the door. The leash was wound around the doorknob to anchor the supplicant. "Now you can watch, bitch," said Gwen to her pet. Gwen then turned and released me from my bonds and led me gently to the bed where she cradled me and covered my burning body with kisses, so tenderly. I ravished her breasts and ferociously licked her aromatic cunt until she came thunderously over my face, crying and screaming as she pressed her pussy against my lips in a maelstrom of ecstasy. I glanced at Heather who was turning bright red as she watched enviously. Eventually she rose and led her downcast pet away and out of the room before returning to me, her slut, her bitch, her new-found cunt. I gratefully shared this magnificent creature's bed for the entire night. Labor Day Lesbian Rapture Ch. 03 (This story is not for minors or anyone offended by descriptions of sexual exploration between adventurous women. All characters are … well, you figure it out for yourself. Feedback is welcome, esp. from like-minded Dommes and Subs!) Part 3 "Are you sore?" asked the barely recognizable voice in my ear. I awoke startled to see Heather standing over me in a white rumpled tee shirt and jeans. Gwen was nowhere to be found and I was confused and apprehensive. I instinctively felt for my collar: it was there. And so were my heels – I had slept with them on overnight! And during the course of the night I remembered a vaguely comforting dream about the cousins who seduced me so long ago…. Contrary to my expectations Heather was friendly. "Yeah, a little," I finally responded. "Let's see," she said. She sat on the bed and turned me gently on my side to inspect my back. "Well, your skin's got a rosier glow now, as well a few stripes on that lovely ass and back of yours – but they'll go away in a day or two. That's it. But you really took it well, honey, you were amazing. You've given Gwen and me a year's worth of fantasy material." She smiled and I smiled back. "You mean you aren't angry with me?" I asked softly. "Angry? What for? You were such a fucking turn on, how could I be angry? And then the thought of you with Gwen drove me wild – it was all I could do to keep from playing with myself all night, thinking about the two of you. Usually Gwen goes for the younger girls, you know, the barely legal ones on the dancing scene. Well, don't we all?" "I dunno…" I was blushing. The idea of being with an 18 year old, someone young enough to be my daughter made me embarrassed. It was embarrassing enough that both Gwen and Heather were so young. I looked up at Heather's blue eyes: she was deliciously beautiful in her unkempt state, and I remembered how glorious it felt to surrender to her ferocity the night before. "Where is she?" I asked, attempting to get off the topic. "Where she usually is – the club. Inventory, staff, you know, it's always something. Maybe she has someone there too…. I don't know. Hey, we share the rent and we're not married and so far it's been a great arrangement for both of us." "C'mon," she continued, "I've got lunch waiting for us in the kitchen. You're quite a sleepyhead, you know – it's almost 3." She tossed me a robe and over lunch we talked some more about ourselves. Heather was obviously intelligent and articulate: she had been going for her Masters' in Comparative Literature, had run into some money problems, got a tip to try dancing and has been at it ever since: the money is too good to stop. Anyway she didn't fancy herself as the professorial type. Right now she was stashing her earnings away and having a great deal of fun at the same time. She had no taste at all for men: to her they were simply sources of income, usually tipsy, and she wouldn't let one of them so much as touch her. I well understood. As I listened to her, gazing at her pretty face, I noticed she hadn't the hardness or unreachability I imagined that girls who stripped for a living would. It was comfortable and natural to be sitting across from a table with her, chatting as I might with one of my straight and normal girlfriends. For my part I talked about my so-called marriage, how I had ignored for years my husband's gayness, and also ignored my attraction to women. I told Heather that the incident with my cousins may have had something to do with this kind of denial: I was so young at the time, and they were really perverse….. I'd never told anyone about that experience before. "And you were their sweet young thing…." Heather mused. "No offence, but I can't blame them if you were half as hot then as you are now…." I chuckled, and blushed a little, and she went on, "You know, Gwen and I had a foursome last year with an aunt and her niece – who had just turned 19. Maybe it was really wrong, but it really really felt good all round – nobody complained, that's for sure." She looked at me keenly and lustfully. My pussy warmed involuntarily at this forbidden idea, and I hastened to change the subject. I asked about dominance and submission, told Heather I couldn't believe I had done what I did, and that…. She interrupted by saying that she and Gwen weren't into the full-time lesbo SM scene: if that's all you do it gets old and stale real quickly, she opined. "Gwen and I get into it for variety, maybe a few times a year," she added. "But it takes some practice, some skill to do it right – which is why you're not crawling in pain right now. "You've gotta know how to use your tools properly." She was quiet for a while as she gazed at me. "So little time, so much to explore," she said cryptically. She continued, "You really set Gwen off -- I haven't seen her this charged up in a long while." Then she lowered her voice and moved her face close to mine: "And I haven't been so excited either – the thought of your lovely bound body jumping at my whip is almost too much…" Her voice trailed off and we kissed over the table, lightly at first, then with increasing passion, then ravenously, and Heather rose and clasped my head in her hands and started to make me swoon with arousal. My body was still a bit sore – actually, tender is the better word – pretty much all over, but tender in a warm exciting way. Her hands felt good as they stroked me while we kissed. We made our way back to the playroom and snuggled in the bed. I tore off her tee-shirt and feasted myself on her breasts. They weren't big and floppy, but deliciously firm and sensitive; her pink nipples were rock-hard and I sucked and bit on them with abandon and was delighted at her passionate response. I noticed she was careful to avoid touching my pussy or nipples – which made them all the hotter. I couldn't believe I had so much sexual energy – maybe it was all those years of frustrated desire unleashed like a flood. Suddenly she stopped and stood up and I could see by the light in her eyes that the gears had shifted: she was my Mistress once again. The pit of my stomach dropped a bit and my pussy grew wetter. Was I so addicted so soon? "Okay Susie -- slut," she said slowly, fixing my gaze, "it's just the two of us now." There was a touch of menace in her voice: would she now get her revenge on me? Was she feigning intimacy a few moments ago? She looked incredibly sexy as she stood topless in her jeans, her tousled blond hair mussed. I remembered our kiss on the dance floor, and I remembered the strokes of her whip last night, and I remembered my place, I guess. I wanted the thrill of submitting to this beautiful wicked bitch again. I bowed my head as she went for my hair and yanked me off the bed and onto my knees. "This time I'm going to give you what you really want," she cooed, "and you will not be disobedient, you hear?" I nodded. "Do you hear?" she asked again, slapping me. "Yes, Mistress," I replied. She slapped me again for good measure. "Hands behind your back and face on the floor away from me," she ordered, "and don't move." Several minutes passed during which I heard an occasional metal clinking. Heather approached me from behind and began to braid my long lustrous hair. I was motionless and silent. This took several minutes. She finally pulled me to my feet, harshly. "Arms out, slut," she commanded. I did as told and she dexterously fastened leather restraints on each wrist. She then knelt and affixed two similar restraints around each ankle. The restraints each had 4 thick metal O-rings. She led me towards the windows and it was then that I noticed that the hanging plants had disappeared. Now I understood why they looked out of place. From the eye-bolts on which the plants had hung now dangled two leather leashes. Heather positioned me under the leashes. I was now facing the mirror between the windows. "Arms up," she ordered. She threaded each of the leashes through the O-rings of my wrist restraints and pulled as tightly as possible before winding and knotting them. My arms were stretched nearly to their limit, over my head and my hands were about three or four feet apart from each other in the air. Heather then brought over a long bar with sturdy metal snaps at either end, to which she attached my ankle restraints: a ‘spreader' bar, as she told me. My legs were now about four feet apart. It was impossible for me to move my thighs inward and just to be able to maintain my balance with my heels I had to point my toes outwards which thrust my cunt further forward. My pussy was again completely open and vulnerably exposed. I was completely at her whim, and this was the feeling I so loved, however dangerous it might be. "Do you like what you see, slut?" she asked, gently holding my waist as I peered across into the mirror. "Yes, Mistress, if it pleases you." "It does, bitch, it pleases me a lot, and it's going to please me even more very soon. Wait for me," she added, "I'll be back" Heather left the room and I was left to contemplate myself in the mirror, newly constrained. I liked what I saw. I imagined what it would be like to go down on someone like myself, wished I were a double and could lick my own pussy! I liked the way my body looked in its bondage, in its stretched submission. I loved the roseate glow of my skin and the occasional thin red stripe. I loved my toned thighs and legs and my firm breasts and tender open pussy just waiting to be set aflame. I even loved the kinkiness added by the sexy heels I had inadvertently worn in bed. But I loved most of all that I was Heather's right now, that I had become the sweet slave-toy of a woman more than 10 years younger than I. And that I had Gwen too…. Heather must have been gone for about 10 minutes – it seemed like ages and when I heard her shut the door my heart beat wildly. She came up to me and I could see her in the mirror as she gently encircled my waist with her arms and kissed my flanks. Ooooh, it was thrilling to feel her lips and licks along my sides and underarms and then across the back of my shoulders while her hands roamed. "You're so preciously edible, my slut," she whispered. Heather wore only her pair of jeans and heels. "But you know, dear, I think you'd look even more ravishing with some jewelry – the right kind, of course." She walked to the closet and returned with a sort of T-shaped silver chain, relatively thick, on whose ends pincer-like clamps were attached. My nipples were as sensitive as my clit and I could swear there was a direct connection: when Heather or Gwen had touched them I immediately felt a current of sexual excitement in my clit and pussy and I was sure I could orgasm merely from nipple play – the right kind, the right woman, of course, maybe even the right instrument…. I winced as Heather affixed the clamps to my nipples and pulled on them, and winced again as she attached the lower clamps to my outer pussy lips. The clamps were very snug and painfully exciting. But then Heather surprised me by pulling the chain up and asking me to open my mouth. I obeyed as she inserted the silver links between my lips. "Open up and keep a grip on it, slut!" She really never shouted, but she could say things with a certain emphasis that accentuated her power and that always seemed to send a tingle along the back of my neck. I could feel the tension on both my nipples and labia with the slightest motion of my head, which I had to keep lowered to prevent the clamps from inflicting further pain. Then Heather abruptly jerked my head back by the hair and my pussy lips and nipples were seared with terrible pain. I was shocked and all I could do was swallow. "Don't dare let that out of your mouth, you fucking cunt!" Again, her voice was soft but commanding, and I had a hard time breathing as the pain subsided, for fear of letting go. Her hand remained on my braid as she stood behind me. "There, bitch, get a good look at yourself: do you like your new jewelry?" she sarcastically asked. "Yes," I replied quietly. And my head was jerked back again and my nipples and labia hurt so much I could have cried – but they also galvanized my desire. I was so confused but also so grateful. Heather moved away to the closet again and returned. With her left hand she traced her fingers along my side and with her right she slid the smooth back of a wooden hair-brush along my stomach. "Just so you know, my little susie-slut, tonight you will be begging to cum, and there will be no free ride, whore." She smacked the inside of my right thigh, hard. I breathed out heavily from the pain and almost lost the chain. I was also beginning to drool and my spittle started to stream onto my chest. Heather nestled her chin between my face and elevated left shoulder and then smacked me even harder along the outside of my right thigh. Her arm around my waist kept me from moving forward or backward. She began to smack along the top of my mound and then along my stomach, very hard, and she moved the brush up between my chest and wet it with my drool. Heather then shifted to my side and took aim for my inner thighs and lashed at both of them from my knee to my groin. The pain was searing and I could see my flesh turn red instanteously. "Does my slut like this?" she purred. I nodded my head and she surprised me by pulling on my hair which pulled the clamps fiercely, and she surprised me further by slapping my right breast with the flat of the brush. I groaned in a muffled way as the piercing blow took its toll: it stung so terribly much and my drooling increased and again she wet the brush and leveled a blow across my other nipple, driving the clamp into my breast while she pulled my hair yet again. My mind was swimming: this perverted bitch was a master at doling out punishment. She stepped away and swung and spanked my ass with hard powerful strokes and my buttocks were on fire. And then she embraced me from behind, nibbled at my ear, wiped the involuntary tears from my eyes and asked me if I wanted more. I mumbled "yes" through the chain-gag, taking care not to lose my hold on it, and as Heather stepped aside she gripped my hair and tilted my head up just enough to start the piercing clamp-pain, and then .... And then I would have collapsed were it not for the leashes that suspended my wrists. She had delivered a direct blow to my gaping and clamped pussy and I screamed uncontrollably as the brush pushed the pincers into my cunt. I dropped the chain from my mouth and just concentrated on breathing, in and out, in and out, in and out. Heather stroked my hair gently and I gathered myself. I loved her touch. I wanted to kiss her hand. "Open up, sweetie." Again she placed the chain in my mouth. I was trembling from the shock to my cunt. Heather stood in front of me and kissed me on the mouth, chain and all, and moved behind again. "Take a good look at yourself… you make a very beautiful slave-girl, a very lovely slut. Such a sweet little whore. Let me take a picture! Maybe your friends will want to see what you really are like, what you really crave, what their Susie really wants." She snapped a half-dozen shots as I stood swaying slightly in humiliation. When she was through with this exercise, as I gazed in the mirror at this grotesque transformation of my personality, at this reddened, drooling, helplessly captive plaything, she came to my side and grasped my braided hair. Very slowly she pulled, and to make sure I didn't let go of the chain she placed her left hand over my mouth, and very slowly the clamps pinched and twisted my cunt-lips and nipples higher and higher -- and then very quickly she yanked on my hair with such sudden and tremendous force that my head jerked far back and the clamps tore away from my flesh, biting into it as they did so, and hurting so so much. The loose jewelry dangled from my mouth as I bit on it to quiet the hurt, and as the circulation began to return to my exquisitely tender tissues the pain became even more intense, and I would have buckled over were it not for my bonds. Yet through it all I was conscious of Heather's soft breasts as she pressed herself behind me and gently cupped my own poor tortured breasts with her elegant hands. And through it all I could smell her arousal,the sign that I was pleasing and exciting her, driving her wild even – which gave me the strength to endure. "What does my slut say now," she asked as she slid the chain out of my mouth. "Thank you, Mistress, thank you!" I answered as she bit into my neck. (to be continued) Labor Day Lesbian Rapture Ch. 04 Heather removed the spreader bar and all of my restraints and led me to the bathroom. I relieved myself as she drew a warm bath for me. She was now very gentle and loving and as I lay in the soothing water she brought smoothies for us to share: they were delicious and we drank greedily. My thirst and hunger disappeared. . I let her soap and clean me thoroughly, though we took care to keep my long braided red hair dry. We really didn't talk much, didn't have to. She rinsed and toweled me gingerly and even applied some soothing lotion to my breasts and pussy. "The night's still young," she said. I was utterly naked except for my collar as Heather lay me out on the warm soft bed, such a welcome relief from dangling. But she bound me again, this time with cords. My wrists were pulled straight back to the headboard, and my legs were lifted backward and spread apart, each ankle attached to opposite ends of the headboard. My ass was elevated and exposed in addition to my tender cunt. I could move very little, but at least I could rest. And yet again I experienced the thrill of being at this beautiful bitch's mercy. "Why don't you relax for a while before Gwen gets back?" cooed Heather. "Mistress," I tentatively spoke, "please …." "What is it, slut?" Heather responded. I screwed up my courage, out of sheer lustful desperation. "Please fuck me, please! Or lick me, please make me cum before Gwen gets back!" Heather got that look in her eye again and I feared the worst for I had spoken out of turn. Instead she crawled between my legs and began to lick the insides of my thighs, so beautifully. Holding my legs even further apart with her hands she brought her lips to my crotch and snaked her tongue in the cleft between my leg and pussy, on either side, and then she flicked it over my nether-bud. I was crazed with the need to cum and when she traced the tip of her tongue upward along my pussy lips I pushed my cunt into her – but she pulled away. Smirking, she said, "I'm sorry dear, I'm not going to make the same mistake twice….I promised Gwen that she would have that honor." "Oh please Mistress, lick it, fuck it, fuck me, do something now, anything!" I pleaded hoarsely. "Well, maybe we can compromise" she said coolly. Heather left the bed for a moment and then returned with a rather large black dildo. It was tapered at the front and grew very thick in the middle, and it was ribbed. She spat on it and coated it with her spittle using her tongue and offered it to me. I sucked and spat on it and wet it until it glistened and dripped with saliva. "This will keep your lovely ass nice and warm for a while." Heather inserted the dildo into my puckered ass very slowly, twisting it and occasionally spitting on it some more until I had taken it entirely into my once-violated ass (and that was many many years ago..) The feeling was incredible. My cunt throbbed from the pressure and I closed my muscles around the thick ribbed dildo and felt a gushing inner heat. I guess I now knew what my ex had liked so much about being gay! Heather worked it in and out a bit, letting the ribs of the dildo pass through and stretch my sphincter as it moved and I was in a minor kind of heaven. I wanted her to become more aggressive and to fuck me with it harder, but Heather merely settled it into my ass snugly and told me she had to leave for a while to wait for Gwen. It was getting dark outside and I lay in semi-contented expectancy. The room was warm and I smelled fresh from the bath and I reflected on the explosiveness of the past two days, how Gwen had boldly taken me home from her club, the wild sex with her, the surprising initiation into submission, the entrance of Heather, the next day of sleeping and walking followed by the night of humiliating bondage and then the sweet embrace of Gwen. And I thought too – how could I not? – about the past few deliciously devious hours with the merciless yet tender Heather…How would this all play out? When would it end? What would Gwen – who really scared me – do with me tonight? And as I lay I thought about how I truly loved the way I was being held captive, immobile, spread open so lewdly and helplessly, and I can't describe how different this feeling was from anything I'd ever experienced, how much more satisfying and overwhelmingly exciting. I could have screamed out, and I fantasized about asking my Mistresses for more, for sharper blows, for more degrading and subservient tasks. I wanted to show them how much I could bear, how much I could sacrifice, how much I could please. How could I ever go back to the way I was before? I must have dozed off because now the room was candlelit again and Gwen and Heather were at my side. Gwen wore a corset that exposed her breasts, and thigh-high leather boots: she looked very forbidding, very much the Domme. He shaved gorgeous pussy was on display. Heather wore only her collar, a nearly sheer thong, and heels: she really was a darling, beautiful in a very different way from Gwen. Next to Gwen's hand on the bed were a crop and a flogger. I noticed that the strips of the whip were knotted throughout. I became anxious. Gwen spoke: "Well, slut, I hear you've been a good and obedient little whore today." She paused, "Are you ready for our last night together?" I was disappointed: did this mean I'd never be seeing them again? But I didn't let it show and simply answered, "Yes, Mistress, whatever you wish." "Good girl…. You know, I really shouldn't have blamed Heather for your mishap last night; after all, it was you who didn't ask permission, wasn't it?" "Yes, Mistress, I was at fault." Gwen picked up the whip and I instinctively turned my head out of fear. She trailed it between my legs and up along my breasts and I got a very close look at what it might do. "I'm going to show you why Heather is my pet, Susie, I'm going to show you how a truly obedient slave responds to her Mistress." She continued: "Heather, get the restraints, please." Gwen turned to me and said, "Susie, my slut, I want you to watch." It took only a few minutes before Heather was suspended and spread just as I had been a few hours before, except that she had her back to the mirrored wall. She looked so incredibly attractive. Gwen approached and flicked the whip lightly on her stomach, and lightly across her breasts, and lightly across her thighs. "Are you watching, slut?" she said to me. As I was answering I saw a forceful swing and heard the loud snap of the flogger across Heather's breasts. "Just for starters, Heather dear, just for starters. I hope you're not planning to dance this week, are you?" "I was, Mistress, I'm supposed to start up again tomorrow night." Another sharp lash across her breasts and Heather bit her lip. "I'm not sure your patrons will appreciate the stripes I'm going to leave." The third blow fell across her pussy and upper thighs and Heather let out a soft breathy moan. I watched in horrified but excited fascination as Gwen ferociously snapped her whip across Heather's helpless body. Heather winced and flinched and moaned and panted, but each time Gwen asked her how she liked it, Heather begged for more. And more she got. Her poor breasts and tummy and thighs were bright red, and Gwen started taking aim at her pussy until by the tenth sharp lash Heather broke. "Please," she whimpered. Gwen stepped toward her and kissed her on the lips and stroked her beautiful face. "Not bad, my pet, not bad – I'm surprised you held out so long." She turned to me and lashed me twice, just as hard as she had lashed Heather, across my buttocks and anus and I squirmed and gasped but had the good sense to thank her through the unexpected pain. If I hadn't had the dildo in my ass the lashes of the whip on my anus would have destroyed me, I thought. "You're learning well, slut," she replied. "But now I'm going to show you just how good Heather really is." Gwen unbound me from the bedposts but immediately tied my ankles together and forced my hands behind my back, winding the cord around my wrists and arms just like the night before. She dragged me by the hair and positioned me before Heather's cunt which was glistening behind the flimsy fabric of her thong. "Now, Susie-slut, open your mouth and press your lips to your girlfriend's pussy, ever so lightly, but don't under any circumstances use your tongue, understand?" I nodded. "Heather is NOT, I repeat, NOT, to cum." Gwen took several steps back and stood behind Heather. "How old are you, bitch?" she asked me. "37" I replied. "Heather will count backwards…." The lashes began. The whoosh and snap of the whip made my heart leap. The blows landed on her back and buttocks and the backs of her legs, and Heather counted. She leaned her head forward to give Gwen access to her upper back. With each blow Heather's pussy was thrust up against my mouth, and with each blow I smelled her became wetter and wetter. I could taste her sweet pussy juice on the sheer thong and feel the beginnings of quivering as her cunt yearned for release. The intensity of the blows increased and Heather's panting became much heavier. Gwen was ruthless. She started a quick hard volley that began at 13 and ended at 3 and I thought Heather would capitulate and cum or scream for her to stop, and then I thought for a second that I could get back at the bitch by tonguing her into a forbidden orgasm. But I didn't act on that thought: Heather had become too precious. She screamed as the next-to-last lash landed cruelly across her back. Gwen pulled on Heather's short blond hair and spat in her face. "Do not cum, bitch.," she said sharply but quietly. And then she finished with a searing blow to her ass. The aroma of Heather's sopping cunt was irresistible and I involuntarily moved my mouth into her before Gwen vigilantly yanked me away.. Heather was a glorious mess: red, sweating, panting, but beautiful and victorious. Her thong was soaked through and through. I knew how much she wanted my tongue and I admired how she restrained herself and I vowed I would somehow pleasure her before I left. "Thank you, Mistress Gwen," whispered Heather gratefully. "You're welcome, my pet," replied Gwen. (to be concluded) Labor Day Lesbian Rapture Ch. 05 (This story is not for minors or anyone offended by descriptions of sexual exploration between adventurous women. Feedback welcome! All characters are...Please read the previous parts 1-4 before this!) * * * * * Even as I write this I have to stop to catch my breath, because writing is a form of reliving, and reliving the intensity of my extraordinary last evening with these diabolically beautiful tormentors is almost unbearable – unbearable because of their absence. Somehow or other Gwen and Heather divined my essence and reached my core. I'm ashamed of this, ashamed of having found out what I want and wanted, and the only way I figure I can work through this is to write about it, in every memorable detail. I hope it doesn't become tedious, so bear with me. I guess the other thing for readers to know is that you really have to be in 'the mood' to be turned on by what I'm about to describe, you have to have that naughty horny feeling ahead of time... At least that's what happens to me. Otherwise it's all bland and boring and distant. Which it certainly was NOT while I experienced it! Anyway, to go on... Heather was released and Gwen guided me over to the sofa where I was permitted to kneel at her feet. Heather seemed visibly shaken – not by the physical pain of the lashings, but by the enormity of her unfulfilled desire. Gwen gazed at her demurely while stroking my cheek. "You can use a drink, honey," said Gwen. "In fact, I've got a nice bottle of champagne for us, for a toast. Why don't you do the honors, Heather?" As her "pet" left for the kitchen I looked with keen lust at her exquisite lithe sexy dancer's figure. Gwen unbound my arms but commanded that I keep them behind my back as I knelt. Heather returned with a tray holding 3 glasses of champagne filled to the brim and set the tray down as she seated herself on the sofa beside Gwen. I know it sounds crazy, but the dim candlelit room with its view of the tree-lined street seemed very romantic. I was permitted to take a glass and Gwen offered a toast. "To my pet," she said, and we all clinked glasses and sipped. Then, "To our beautiful new slut," and we drank again. And finally, "To an exciting conclusion." We drained our glasses and the alcohol quickly suffused me, warming my body and smoothing the rough edges of my mind, taking the edge off my fear of their unknown plans. "And now for the piece de resistance," exclaimed Heather, showing off her French. They turned me around on my knees so that my back was facing the sofa on which they sat. Heather bound my wrists very tightly together and wound the length of dangling cord around my braided hair, pulling my head backwards as far as it could go, linking it to my wrists and fully exposing my neck. It was literally impossible for me to move my head forward even an inch. They then guided me back towards the sofa so that the small of my back rested against it and my elbows were supported by the cushion. My ankles of course were already bound and my thighs were spread lewdly apart and my entire body was arched upwards. It was physically uncomfortable because I was leaning back so far, but the discomfort was compensated for by my knowing how provocative, pleasing and incredibly sexy I must have looked with my pert full breasts, flat tummy and slender strong splayed legs, and of course my sweet tender expectant willing cunt. The dildo in my ass continued to fill and stretch my insides to add to my nearly uncontrollable sexual tension. "How does our whore feel now?" asked the forbidding Gwen. "Wonderful, Mistress, and wonderfully randy," I replied honestly. "You think it's wonderful to be tied and stretched and spread to be totally at my whim?" she continued. "Yes, Mistress." "Well, I hope you're ready for what's coming, slut because this is what I had in mind the moment I poured your drink the other night." At this point Heather blindfolded me and I shuddered with apprehensive lustful expectancy. "Open your mouth, please, bitch," ordered Gwen. "This is a crop," she said, inserting the tip between my lips, "and I'd like you to suck on it, to get it nice and wet." "Have you ever felt the sting of a crop?" she asked. I shook my head. Her voice was sultry and low. "It's a wonderful tool – it can really make a statement." She withdrew the crop's tip from my mouth and in a second it cut through the air and landed on the inside of my right thigh. "Oh my god, oh my god" I moaned. I tried to pull my thighs together but an even more viciously stinging blow landed on the tender inner part of my left thigh, and I screamed in pain. "Keep those fucking legs open, bitch!" Gwen warned. Because of the blindfold my anxiety was increased: I couldn't tell where she would strike next. I felt a tapping on the anal plug and then a flicking across my mouth before another swoosh landed on the underside of my left breast. Again, I couldn't help but scream out. Heather's hand was on my hair making sure my head and neck were arched up and back as far as possible. And then Gwen struck me rapidly and unpredictably, on my outer thighs, my flanks, my breasts, and I flinched and winced and squirmed and moaned, and a sharp snap on my pussy forced me to cry out involuntarily. "Oh, fuck, oh my god, oh, please, please..." I groaned. The crop lashed my mouth next. "Quiet, Susie, you're getting what you want, aren't you, aren't you getting just what you deserve, you randy fucking bitch?" said Gwen. Then suddenly she struck my pussy again, and my pelvis twitched upwards, but I bit my lip and remained silent as the pain spread over my pubic mound and throughout my loins. She tapped quickly and lightly at times, and then deliberately and very hard at others, all over me, barely leaving me time to recover from one blow before she administered another. I could smell Heather's arousal and I longed to lick her sweet burning cunt as my own cunt and body burned. Gwen had paused, giving me time to recover, to catch my breath, and then she started again, this time focusing on my pussy. She tapped and smacked lightly and rhythmically and my lips tingled and my pussy oozed with juice and a tremendous tension started to build as the force of her strokes grew and I thrusted violently into her blows just on the verge of finally, finally cumming... But I remembered my duty, and cried out for permission at the very last minute: "Please, Mistress," I panted, "please may I cum, please do me, make me cum, I can't take it, please Mistress..." But it was not to be, at least not then. Gwen had brought me to the very edge and quickly and wickedly she led me away: two unbelievably painful strokes of the crop to my inner thighs stopped my climax in its tracks and I screamed out as much in utter frustration as in agony. "Oh fuck, shit, I can't take it, oh fuck you, you bitch, fuck you, you fucking bitch, I need to cum, I need to cum now!" I yelled. Gwen's lips were on mine and she muffled my complaints with a deep kiss, small but welcome solace. "You'll come only when I let you, my slut. Your cumming is entirely in your Mistress's control," whispered Gwen, "do you get that? I own you and your pleasures and your pains, and you'd better well understand it. Do you understand that?" Her voice was cool and level but insistent. I nodded silently. She paused. "Why don't you rest for a while," Gwen continued, lightly tracing her finger from my chin to my pussy before she rose. "There's more to come." There I lay, blindfolded, my heaving body stretched backwards from the carpeted floor on which I knelt across the edge of the sofa. My feet were bound together, my legs opened vulnerably wide. My hands were tied behind my arched back, and my hair was bound to my hands curving my neck up and forcing my head back. I could occasionally feel the heels of my feet with my buttocks when my pelvis recoiled in response to Gwen's vicious blows of the crop, but generally Heather's hand kept a firm grip on my hair to compel me to remain as arched upwards as possible. I could imagine no more vulnerable position, and in this exquisite vulnerability I found sweet degraded comfort. I was indeed Gwen's and Heather's bitch, slut, slave, whore, plaything, pleasure-doll, cunt... And now I wanted to kiss and lick Gwen's and Heather's cunt and asses, just like the first night, out of sheer gratitude. I wanted them to cum so wildly and fully that they would never forget me. I was aware more fully again of Heather's glowing presence. As I had witnessed her whipping, she had witnessed mine. And as I had become sexually inflamed by watching her under Gwen's magisterial punishment, so must she have become inflamed by watching me under Gwen's command: I could smell it. And now I felt it as her hands stroked my cheeks, as she ripped the blindfold off me and turned and squatted on my face, pressing her copiously moist pussy on my mouth and grinding it furiously as she lifted my head into her wondrously aromatic cunt. She exploded in a matter of seconds as my lips and tongue feasted on her slit and drank her ambrosial juices. I shook my head rapidly sideways to enhance her pleasure and sought out her clit with the flat of my tongue and sucked it between my lips, and I reveled in her cumming as she moaned and moaned, finally attaining the release that had so long been denied her. Our eyes met when she gazed down at me as she thrashed about and this electrified me and increased my own yearning to be touched and to cum. I was discovering how different these beautiful women were from one another. Gwen, despite her Latin looks, was cooler, more imposing, unreachable – and frankly more powerful. Blond and blue-eyed Heather was softer, grabbable – she could be vicious and merciless, but there was an aphrodisiac quality to her commands that was just very different from Gwen's. There was also something about her with which I myself identified, something... Provocatively, invitingly submissive maybe? Gwen was all dominance, that's for sure, and the thrill of submitting to her was more encompassing and almost awe-inspiring, reaching into and throughout my entire body. I was exhausted from the tension of wanting to cum. Heather's kisses on my mouth as she undid the knot tying my hair to my hands were delicious and I just wished she would kiss her way down to my pussy. But she didn't. Instead she pulled me to the floor and lay next to me, caressing me. Her hand traveled to my thighs, which jumped at her touch, and then settled on the dildo in my nether-hole. She very slowly removed it and waited for me to settle down when I shook as each rib popped through my sphincter. After it was out altogether she brought it to my lips and I took it into my mouth without hesitation. She joined me in kissing and licking it and kissing me after we had cleaned it off and lying on top of me, but taking care not to touch my cunt with her mound. My hands were still bound behind and under my back and my ankles of course were tied so that the soles of my feet were pressed together and my turned-out legs formed a diamond shape. "Hi girlfriends," said Gwen, startling us out of our play. Heather quickly moved aside and smiled as if she'd been caught in mischief – which she was! "You just can't keep your slutty body off her, can you pet?" said Gwen. "Well, I can't say I blame you – Susie is so terribly fucking docile and fetching, isn't she?" I was burning with frustrated desire and determined I would get Gwen to minister to me. She set a basket down and withdrew a strap-on and tossed it to Heather. "Do me, pet," she ordered. "On your knees!" she added, preventing Heather from rising. Heather went to her and attached the harnessed dildo and Gwen looked like a fucking glorious goddess with her new addition. Yes, I thought, use it, Gwen you bitch, fuck me through the floor, you beautiful cunt! As Heather buckled the harness Gwen sniffed the air and lifted Heather's chin. "You've cum, haven't you?" she asked. Heather lowered her eyes. "Yes, Mistress," she meekly answered. "By her tongue?" "Yes, Mistress, by her tongue." "Well, pet, I'd like you to use your own tongue and clean my boots for me while your girlfriend watches." Heather bowed her head and started by licking the heels and insteps of Gwen's expensive leather boots, which reached over her knees. When Gwen lifted a foot Heather very slowly sucked on a heel and then licked the entire sole up and back, up and back, and very gradually she made her way to the upper part of the foot, the calf and finally the thigh, and then back down again! It must have been almost 10 minutes – 10 of the most erotic minutes imaginable – before Gwen asked Heather to remove her boots for her. Gwen had the most elegant and beautiful legs...I ogled them even as I lay helpless before her. She nodded and as if on cue Heather retrieved the basket for her. Gwen looked simply magnificent and imposing with her long dark hair and eyes and curvaceous tall figure, with her large tantalizing phallus emphasizing her power to pleasure. Looking down on my prostrate form, she commented, "Let's try some different jewelry for you, slut, something more modest." She retrieved a handful of wooden clothespins and knelt at my feet. "I know what you want and need, bitch, and I'm going to give it to you" she warned. My pussy was sopping. She pulled my outer labia together very gingerly and placed the first clothespin on them in the middle of my slit. It pinched tremendously making me wince but also sending lustful jolts through my pussy. "I want to make sure you protect your treasure," she added wrily. Gwen attached five pins along my cunt and the combined effect was incredible: the heat of the pinch and pressure coursed through my loins. She held one pin aloft and asked me where I thought it would go. I knew but couldn't respond! Very slowly she opened the clothespin and clamped it around the hood and body of my clit and when she finally let go my I moaned in agony and writhed upward. It felt so hot, so painfully wonderful! "Now, I think your wicked tongue needs to be taught a lesson! Open your pretty little mouth, Susie." I complied and Gwen attached a clothespin to my tongue. This too hurt awfully and I began almost immediately to drool. "Have you even seen such a lusciously helpless and willing bitch, Heather?" she asked rhetorically. Gwen turned to me. "Let's see, how old did you say you were, 37?" I nodded and grunted, "Yes, Mistress." Heather scooted to my head, rested on her knees and pulled my hair back and gently held it as Gwen fetched the flogger with which she had tortured Heather a short while back, the one with the knotted tendrils. I gasped but lust gave me courage. "Count for me, bitch," commanded Gwen. The first blow landed on my stomach searing me... the second across my chest. I recoiled and forgot to start counting because of the sudden shock of her lashes. "Shall we start again?" asked Gwen coolly. She wielded the whip with devilish accuracy, inflicting intense burning pain along my thighs, my tummy, my breasts. I counted but sounded like a fool with the pin in my mouth and my drool. She flicked from one breast to another for a while, then used a harsh powerful stroke across my right thigh. I tried to turn to my side but Heather placed her arms on my shoulders and held me down, and when I tried to move my legs inward Gwen struck the inside of my thighs even harder. "Keep those fucking legs open for me, bitch," she ordered, lashing my tender inner parts. she strode around me imperiously, the huge cock dangling menacingly as she fondled her flogger. She then brushed the tails of the whip over the clothespins pinching my pussy and I screamed. "You" – LASH! – "fucking" -- LASH! – "slutty" – LASH! – "Susie" – LASH! – "bitch"... the blows landed everywhere, harshly, snapping with force, and I writhed and groaned, but kept my count: I would not give in this time, I would not let her defeat me! "Eleven" I mumbled incoherently. Gwen paused and walked around me. I lay panting heavily, completely red, my skin everywhere aflame. Heather kissed my forehead. My hands were under my back and my legs were open. My cunt throbbed from the pins and ached to be filled, ached for Gwen to fuck it nonetheless. Without a word Gwen attacked the clothespins on my pussy with her whip, furiously, knocking five off: only the one on my poor burning clit was left. She stood back between my legs and brought the whip down so fiercely from over her head that this last remaining pin was torn from my clit. I twisted and bucked frantically as the blood rushed back into my cruelly pincered nub. Heather quickly removed the clothespin from my mouth and kissed me to muffle my cries. It took minutes to quiet me. I was quivering and shaking and moaning, but somehow mysteriously happy and grateful. And so alive! "Let her go, Heather! I want to hear her beg like the helpless fucking seductive slut she is, I want to hear her tell me what more she wants, I want to hear her tell me how much she likes my whip." I managed to catch my breath finally and I looked Gwen right in the eyes. "I want you to fuck me, Mistress! I want your cock in my fucking cunt! I want to cum!" Gwen knelt down. "Fuck me, Gwen, I can't stand it!" "Do you like my whip, Susie?" she asked quietly. "Yes, I love your fucking whip, you bitch , you know I do , but I need your cock NOW, I need you to fill me, I need to cum so fucking badly!" I was like a frenzied animal jumping out of its skin. Gwen relented and lifted my bound legs over her head and touched the tip of her lovely fake cock to my pussy's entrance, teasing me yet some more, and then unexpectedly she thrust into me hard all at once, so fucking hard that by the third stoke I was in spasms. "Cum for me, bitch, cum for me, my lovely fucking pretty Susie slut," she intoned. And I came and came and came and Heather kissed and kissed me deeply, and Gwen fucked and thrust me further into ecstasy than I could ever have imagined. It was very very late by the time I hastily threw on some jeans and a blouse. I'd have to call out the next day, I knew: I was in no shape to work We three of us shared another glass of champagne, and another series of kisses and although I really wanted to stay the night I wasn't asked. Instead Heather invited me to bind Gwen to the leashes dangling from the ceiling, affix the spreader bar to her ankles, and insert a gag into her luscious mouth while she donned a strap-on. I was mesmerized... We left Gwen waiting while Heather accompanied me to the door and gave me a long lingering kiss, along with a card with the name of the club where she danced. "I'd love for you to stay, dear sweet Susie," she said as she caressed my cheek, "but this is between Gwen and me now." I shuddered to imagine what would ensue. "Hey," Heather called before I stepped out the door, "wait." She took my hand and pulled me to her and kissed me deeply once more. "You're a real treasure, darling," she whispered. In the cab on my way back to the real world my tender scorched skin glowed. As I fingered the collar around my neck I dreamily celebrated my newly awakened self. The End (and thanks to all for the great feedback) Labor Day Lesbian Rapture "Oh, yes, Gwen," Heather cooed. Gwen repeated the spanking to Heather's clear delight and then she grasped her buttocks and spread them apart for me. I didn't hesitate a second. I attacked Heather's netherbud with delicate ferocity, pressing my hungry lips over its rim and flicking and darting my tongue in her succulent orifice. The smell was sweet and incredible and the taste of her was exquisite. Occasionally Gwen would release Heather's cheeks to smack them or to use a hand to press my face further into Heather's bum. I felt like an animal and I wished that my own hands had been free to roam along Heather's muscular back and torso and smooth thighs and calves.... Heather was sighing and squirming and Gwen commanded me not to let my tongue stray to her pet's pussy. "I want her to beg, Susie, I want Heather to grovel for a pussy-licking." And grovel she did, while I hardened my tongue and pushed it past her sphincter, in and out, and while Gwen kneaded and spanked her pet's ass viciously, eliciting screams. "My god, Gwen, please, please let her kiss my cunt, please! I need to cum, I need to explode! Please, honey, let her do me right!" Gwen pulled my head back suddenly and Heather gasped in frustration. "No, don't stop now, c'mon Gwen, c'mon Susie, I'm dying!" she screamed. "On your back, bitch!" commanded Gwen, " and you stay where you are" she added to me. I remained in position, back arched, hands bound to my ankles. Heather rolled over and Gwen guided her ass to the edge of the sofa. Then turning her back to me Gwen, with her beautiful long dark hair, settled her pussy on Heather's face. She reached behind her and grasped Heather's ankles to lift her legs aloft and spead them open wide. "Now, Susie, lick that luscious cunt for me, sweetie," she ordered. I leaned forward and plunged into Heather's copiously wet cunt, spitting on it, lathering it, pressing my nose and lips into the folds of her pink labia, sliding my chin along her slit, tonguing and sucking her hard clit like a madwoman. My face was completely wet. I pulled on her labia with my teeth and then bit down with exquisite delicacy on her swollen clitoris, sending Heather over the top. She exploded and I thought she would have leapt off the couch were it not for the weight of Gwen's cunt across her face and the iron-like grip that held her legs. "That's it, pinch my nipples, my pet," screamed Gwen, "lick me baby, lick your lover's cunt!" Gwen heaved and shuddered over Heather's muffled orgasmic groans and after several minutes she let loose her hold on Heather and finally dismounted. She turned to kiss me tenderly on the lips and to stroke my moist and matted hair. I myself was completely aflame, yearning desperately to be touched, pinched, prodded, caressed, stroked, slapped – anything! I wanted to cum so badly – I was truly crazed with desire. Gwen knelt behind me and unbound my hands. "Oh, Gwen," I murmured in desperation. She kissed the nape of my neck gingerly and lifted me to my feet and nodded for me to stretch myself out on the sofa. My ankles were bound still. Heather pushed my feet up to my ass (I of course still wore my cowboy boots) and removed my thong before pulling my thighs wide apart. Gwen stretched and held my arms behind my head. My leather vest was flung open leaving me gloriously and utterly vulnerable, utterly in my captors' power, and craving hungrily for release. Heather lifted my bound legs up and then slid her lithe body between them to lay upon me. She kissed me full on the lips as her warm taut flesh pressed against mine, breast to breast, pussy to pussy. Her eager hands found my nipples and pinched and squeezed them mercilessly sending shocks to my beckoning cunt. I kissed her with fervor and Gwen graciously released my arms so I might embrace Heather freely, so I could pull her hair, caress her wonderfully firm ass and guide her grinding pussy against mine. I came in waves, wave upon wave, delirious in ecstasy as I drifted off into a brief dream. I awoke a short time later alone, bound hand and foot to the four corners of a welcoming soft bed, and in the dark I thought of the sweetness of my perverse desire to submit. What would my friends or relatives say if they knew how I had degraded myself, if they knew that even worse (or better!) was to come from the person they thought of as kind and honest and moral and decent? They might like me even more, I mused mischievously, before falling fast asleep. Lesbian Labor Day Submission: Part 3 by Susie T (susietreasure@yahoo.com) Disclaimer: (This story is not for minors or anyone offended by descriptions of sexual exploration between adventurous women. Feedback always welcome!) When I woke next it was already past noon judging by the fullness of the light streaming in through the windows and onto my bed. I was nude except for my makeshift collar – no boots, no bindings either, for they had been removed and I was now free to walk about. I hastily made my way to the bathroom and after I had finished relieving myself I went to try the door. It was locked. I knocked lightly a few times and cleared my throat and even called for Gwen and Heather, but no answer. So I returned to bed and stretched and began to relive the previous crazy night. A sickly feeling of dread, maybe even horror, began to steal over me. I wished I could have wished it all away. I could barely bring myself to look in a mirror. And yet my body was exulting, singing even. The bedroom was not very large, but it was comfortable, obviously a guest-room. I picked up a book on gardening – how could I act so normal? – and then threw it down, too confused and overcome by memories of the hours before. But what worried me was that a quiet burning in the pit of my stomach had begun again, and that my fantasies were becoming even wilder: I wanted more, and I wanted something more extreme, but I was also afraid to let my imagination roam any further. I did everything I could to keep it in check, but it was a losing battle. I sensed that last night was merely an introduction and I was overcome by the wish to give of myself utterly, in ways that made the predictably insipid fetish videos I peeked at seem humdrum. My ex had introduced me to porn, massively heterosexual, and I had never really responded. In my more depressed and unsatisfied moments I had rented lesbian videos, some of which I liked when I was in heat; but the fakeness of it all always took away the excitement. I wanted something genuine, real, intense, especially now that I had crossed a threshhold. The door opened quietly as I was musing and Heather came in. She was about a thousand times more lovely in the light of day. I was intimidated by her youth and beauty. She approached and kissed me on the lips and asked about my sleep – all so normally, as if we were old acquaintances. "Mmmm, I can still smell my pussy on your face," she said. "Was this really the first time you've been with girls?" She sat down on the bed and pulled me beside her and I kissed her on the lips and stroked her short blond hair and we started to talk about ourselves. I told her about my cousins, my blasé and mistaken marriage, my work, such as it was. She in turn told me about meeting Gwen while dancing at the same Gentlemen's Club. I should have known she was a dancer judging from her incredibly taut and supple body! Gwen had moved on from dancing and was now a co-owner of Loveladies while Heather continued to perform for the men she loathed and held in thrall. "I'm trying to save up to buy into Gwen's club, but for now the money's fabulous, and the perks are great – most of the gals are lez and that's where Gwen and I get our occasional playmates. That's how we keep things hot. I'm surprised she picked you up – that's a no-no for her, not good for business. But actually I guess I'm not surprised: you're really very fetching, very alluring, very .... "sub", like me I think – and that drives Gwen over the edge." "And let me tell you," Heather added, " last night was soft-core. The best is yet to come." My heart leapt – and sank! What had I gotten myself into? "But hey," continued Heather, "we've got work to do.... Gwen told me you're staying through Monday night, is that right?" I nodded quietly, in a kind of daze. Was that right? I asked myself. "If you need to check messages or make a few calls I'll give you my cell. And you must be famished by now. Let's grab a sandwich and take a walk while Gwen's at the bar. She won't be getting back until 10 anyway, so we have plenty of time to kill." So we ate and went outside. Heather has rustled up a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt for me and we made our way around town on a warm sunny day just as if I had been with an old friend. We stopped for coffee, took a brisk loop around the park and then returned to the brownstone. I was feeling invigorated and was on the verge of just thanking Heather and stealing away to my cozy home before I made more of a fool of myself than I had to. But Heather's luscious lips and body beckoned.... And I remembered how frustrated I had been – for years, not days! Why should I let this opportunity get away? And after all, what could top last night, what more could actually happen? I threw my arms around Heather as soon as we returned to the apartment but she gently peeled them away and drew me by the hand to the very same sofa we had frolicked on. We necked for a few minutes and then Heather cautioned me that it would be angering Gwen to do anything in her absence. "Besides," she remarked, "we should get ourselves ready – it's after 8." She ran a bath for me and I luxuriated in it, feeling my desire mount and my curiosity increase. As I was toweling off Heather entered the bathroom with shaving implements. "Both Gwen and I like our playmates' pussies to be smooth," she smirked. So she lathered my cunt and carefully and tenderly shaved me. When she was finished she gave my pussy a smack that sent delightful shivers through my loins. I was taken aback when she drew me into their bedroom. It was spacious and very comfortable. Three windows looked out on the tree-lined street, but in between the windows were large mirrors. The room held two small sofas and a king-sized bed. But there was something funny about the setup, and I didn't recognize it until after a few minutes. Four plants hung from large eyebolts in the ceiling – but the plants were between the windows, and not in front of them; plus, they were about 5 or 6 feet from the windows' wall and more towards the center of the room. Curious, I thought. Heather led me to the bed. "Here are your things for the evening," she said. "These?" I asked incredulously. On the bed were a leather bra and thong, both with buckles, a leather collar with 4 O-rings, high patent-leather heels with ankle straps, and several long black silk scarves. Heather wasted no time in pulling me by the hair and smacking my mouth, hard, as she shoved me to my knees. "Stay on your fucking knees and don't ask questions, bitch." She slapped me again on the mouth, and again. "Open your mouth, slut." I did and she inserted her hand, which I licked, and then she slapped me several more times, across my cheek and mouth, backhand and forehand. I couldn't believe how quickly she had been transformed – but worse: I couldn't believe how much I enjoyed feeling the sting of her hand, the burning of lips and cheek, coupled with how she jerked my head by the hair. "Now get into these fucking things, slut." I meekly and hastily obeyed. Heather intervened to help with buckling the bra and thong straps, and then she replaced the makeshift collar around my neck with a new one, securing it with a tiny padlock. "I'm Mistress Heather until otherwise notified, bitch," she said curtly. "On your knees." As I knelt she fastened my wrists behind my back and bound my ankles and dragged me harshly by the hair in front of one of the mirrors between the windows. "Here, I want you to get a good look at yourself, you degraded little bitch," she hissed. I was breathing rapidly. "Keep your fucking back arched," she added, pulling on my hair and again slapping my mouth. "How many times do I have to tell you this? Didn't you learn from last night?" Her voice, like Gwen's, was stern but controlled and quiet. "I'm sorry, I..." I couldn't get the words out because she started slapping me again, sharply, and --- and I liked it. My lips grew slightly puffy and were tingling. "Don't" – smack! – "you" – smack! – "dare" – smack! – "speak" – smack! --"without" – smack! – "permission!" Smack! Smack! Smack! "Get it?" I nodded. She knelt down and kissed my neck and my burning lips very sweetly. "Good little slut," she whispered. "You're so delectable, even if you are middle-aged....Now stay here and think about what a subservient cunt you are, and this (she held a leash in her hands) is to make sure you don't stray." She clipped the leash to my collar and lashed the other end to the bedpost behind me. By any reasonable standard I should have been terrified, agitated, weeping – and yet, gazing at my kneeling and bound and leashed and leathered figure, a strange stillness swept over me. I liked – no, I loved! – what I saw. My lustrous long red hair cascaded around my reddened face, my pussy was sopping wet, my skin was alive all over – and it had only just begun! I was so relieved that I could finally, finally surrender. I felt as if I were in dream and lost track of time. Even the softness of the silk around my wrists and ankles thrilled, paradoxically making me feel freer than ever I felt before. The light was falling and the trees outside the room rustled ominously. Heather re-entered and ritualistically lit at least a dozen candles around the playroom's perimeter, creating an eerie but warm ambience, an ambience fitting for sacrifice, I thought. "I see you've been still, like a good girl," she teased. She was wearing my vest, a crotchless leather thong and expensive heels. She too had a collar like mine around her lovely smooth neck. "Now crawl over to our Procrustean bed," she commanded. Wow, I thought, a classics major! I hoped I fit! When I reached the bed she pulled me roughly by the hair to show me what she wanted, which was that I get lift myself onto it, after she removed the leash. After several awkward tries, I succeeded, and knelt facing the headboard. "I have a little surprise for you, slut," cooed Heather, and reaching around me from behind she affixed two small toothed plastic clamps onto my hard nipples. I began panting from the initially sharp pain. She untied my hands and pushed me down onto my face and stomach. The clamps on my nipples made me cry out as my breasts rubbed against the sheets. But this too I relished, and I relished the way Heather stretched each arm to its limit as she wound the scarves around opposite bedposts. She did the same with my feet and legs, and the sensation of my entire body being so taut, so stretched, while my nipples pulsed with the pang of friction, made me pant in a sort of delirious excitement and fear. I cried out again and Heather jerked my head sideways and slapped my mouth sharply several times. "How many times do I have to tell you to be quiet? How many times?" She sounded genuinely irritated, and the next time she grasped my hair she slipped a ball into my mouth and tied a strap around my head. So this was a ball gag, just as I had seen in those awful fetish films..... Every sound I made was now muffled. I squirmed and pulled on my bindings but I was stretched so tautly and securely it was useless. "I'm going to warm you up for Mistress Gwen," said Heather, and before I could figure out what she meant my back was afire and I screamed. She cruelly brought the tails of the suede flogger under my neck and lifted my head with them and then stepped back from the bed and brought the whip hard across my buttocks. I flinched involuntarily and my cunt seeped. I can't describe how I loved how she used me, how it was to lie there with no control whatsoever while beautiful fierce Heather stung me. It hurt, oh it hurt, but it felt so good too, like nothing I had ever experienced. "You like it, don't you bitch?" asked Heather. I tried to nod but another blow came down on my back and I shivered again and panted and drooled a little. Yes, keep it up, I thought to myself, Susie is yours, Heather, yours to do with as you please. With every blow of the long lashes of the whip my breasts were jolted by the clamps that rubbed on the sheets and pulled and bit into my nipples. "I like the way you take it, slut," continued Heather, "and I know you want it harder, don't you?" I weakly answered through my gag. "Don't you?" she repeated, louder, as she lashed my ass and I twitched. Tears filled my eyes but I wanted her to go on, to take me, to lash me over and over. "Yes, what a good little slut," she murmured. My back and ass and the backs of my arms and legs were aflame. She had timed the blows masterfully: just as the burning would begin to subside the whip would fall and the sharp pain would crescendo. I was breathing so fast and heavily now..... "Susie, dear," said Heather, "when I take the gag out, I will expect something." She removed it and I breathed with relief, barely able to contain myself. Then the whip fell again across my back and I screamed out, "Please!" "Please what?" Heather inquired. I gulped, on the verge of sobbing. And after the slowest several seconds of my life, so worried that I was trying Heather's limited patience as I gathered my thoughts, I whispered, "Please....please may I have another?" Another I received, across my ass, so so hard and stinging and vicious, and yet so comforting somehow. "Thank you, Mistress!" I shouted. "You're welcome, bitch." Then Heather disappeared. (to be continued)