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CH 10
After my first session with Mary I was a wreck. I went home exhausted but couldn’t sleep. I was confused and distressed that she had inflicted real pain and had ignored my pleas for mercy, yet I was excited and somehow glad that she hadn’t listened. I didn’t really like the pain (at least that’s what I tried to tell myself) but I was a terrible person and deserved pain, and being such a low and worthless creature, I wasn’t deserving of mercy either.
I needed to talk to someone so I called Jill.
Jill was disappointed that I had fallen back into bondage. She talked to me like I was an alcoholic or a junky, and in a way, I was. I was hooked on bondage.
Jill had lots of experience counseling people and she talked to me for hours. I wanted her help, but couldn’t stop my pussy from tingling when she asked me for the details of my evening with Mary, in fact, I was playing with myself as we talked.
Looking back, I realize that I didn’t really want help, or to get out of my addiction, I just needed a talk down from my emotional roller coaster. I made agreement noises into the phone and promised to try my best, but I had no intention of going straight.
As she had promised, Denise gave me a bondage session free of charge. I spent several hours tied up in the dungeon out back of the shop.
Denise told me to arrive at one o’clock in the afternoon. She made me strip in the store, locked manacles on my wrists and ankles and led me to the dungeon. She chained me standing between two poles and played with my breasts until I was ready to collapse. She pinched and bit my nipples, slapped and punched by boobs until they were purple with bruises, but she wouldn’t touch my pussy. The abuse of my poor breasts was painful and very exciting, and being the slut that I was (and still am) I was wild with passion.
From time to time a customer would interrupt my torture. Each time the door chime rang Denise would shove a gag in my mouth and go wait on the customer. The first time that happened she returned with two wicked nipple clamps with weights hanging from them. The next time a customer came in she put the clamps on my nipples and walked out. It’s a good thing she gagged me, because those clamps were horribly painful and I would have screamed to rattle the windows. When she returned, she tugged on the clamps lightly and I thought I would faint from the pain. Then she flicked a crop between the weights making them (and my poor boobs) bounce. She took pity on me and removed the clamps, and as soon as they were off I wanted them back on. She saw the look on my face and made me beg for them. She put them back on and I nearly had an orgasm. She laughed with wicked delight at me as I groaned with pain and pleasure. She took them off but told me she’d put them back any time a customer came in. I grew to hate and love that damn door chime.
Sometimes she was gone for a long time. The first couple of times I was impatient for her to return, but then I remembered that I was a lowly slave and had to be patient. I slipped into my old trance like state while I waited. And it was nice that I really was secured with no hope of releasing myself. Once or twice I was so deep into my dream state that Denise had to slap me back into the real world.
Like Mary, Denise really worked me over. She didn’t let up when I was shrieking with pain and she ignored my pleadings for mercy.
I assumed this was the way that they always treated their clients, later I found out about role playing and safe words and all that. Professional doms have to play to their customers’ wishes and no matter how cruel they pretend to be, if they want return business they must ease up when the customer has had enough.
I was different. Mary and Denise saw that I was truly a masochist, and that excited them. I wasn’t a paying customer and they didn’t really expect me to come back so they decided to play out their own sick, horrible, sadistic (and wonderful) personal fantasies on me while they had the chance.
Denise beat my breasts until they were in terrible shape. They were bruised and covered with angry red welts. She stood in front of me with a thin supple whip and cracked it over and over like a lion tamer. The whip snapped within inches of my skin and I was shrieking in genuine fear. I struggled in my bonds and screamed under my gag. Denise spun the whip horizontally like a helicopter blade. She spun it so fast that it was a blur. She moved it closer to my breasts until I could feel its breeze. She looked into my eyes, looked into my soul and raised an eyebrow knowingly. I sobbed in defeat and shame and disgusted with my self, I leaned forward and thrust my breasts into that whirling whip. The orgasm was terrific!
When I woke I was till hanging by my wrists. My hands were numb and my shoulders ached. Denise gave me a drink, then set to work torturing my pussy. I learned that nipple clamps work just as well on pussy lips.
Mary and Denise recruited me into their world. They offered me a job.
I was hired to be a professional submissive.
There aren’t many women in the world who are willing to place themselves at the mercy of a stranger, especially a self proclaimed sadistic stranger. Mary and Denise promised to protect me if I would let people torment me. I deserved to suffer after screwing things up with John. I was a horrible tramp and the more people who tortured me the better. (Rationalizing? You bet. I was still fighting with myself and couldn’t admit that I liked torture. I had to have an excuse). I didn’t have to think about it very long, I agreed.
.
Denise arranged my first session. To protect me she was present the entire time, but wouldn’t intervene in any way unless I was in real danger. As it turned out, I never was, although there were times when I was scared.
To capitalize on my youth Denise had me dress up like a school girl in a short skirt, knee socks, penny loafers and a white blouse. I wore cotton panties and an ordinary bra. Luckily my hair was long enough to braid into pigtails. I even carried a couple of textbooks.
I was too broke to buy gas so I took the bus. I was nervous and felt a little silly in that outfit, but the looks I got from men excited me so I relaxed and let them peek up my skirt while I pretended to do my homework.
When I arrived at the store and was introduced to the man. I actually curtseyed and lifted my skirt. We chatted for a few moments, then he took me to the back. He started by tying my hands behind my back and putting me over his lap. He raised my skirt and spanked me. It felt wonderful!
After my first spanking, he took my panties off and stuffed them in my mouth. That was the first time I experienced a panty gag, and I was very startled. I tried to spit them out but he secured them with a leather strap then punished me for being rebellious by spanking my pussy.
Denise looked in from time to time but didn’t see anything that worried her so she left me to him. I expected to be bound to all the torture equipment but he never used any of it. Instead he tied me in different positions with rope and spanked me, used his belt on my butt and legs, and pinched and slapped my breasts.
The man was very strong and picked me up easily. He moved me around like a child and placed me in all sorts of positions. He used the old armchair almost exclusively and most of the time I was lying across his lap. Sometimes he bent me over the arms or back of the chair, especially when he was turning the backs of my legs bright red with his belt.
Then he tied me over the back of the chair with my legs apart. I thought that he was going to spank my pussy, and he did, but he also fucked me.
I was horrified when I felt his cock slide inside me. Denise had assured me that no intercourse would take place. I screamed into my gag and really fought to get loose. It was no use, he had me tied too tightly to escape.
Denise came back when she heard my scream but didn’t seem too surprised when she saw what he was doing. I glared at her furiously and tried to shout through the gag. She watched calmly, then spoke to him.
“Fuck the little slut till she can’t walk,” she said. “She’s only a slave.”
That did it! I came!
I thought I’d experienced or imagined just about every form of submission, but I never dreamed that verbal humiliation would excite me. Her words sent me into one of the most terrific orgasms I’d ever had.
The man came too. I felt his cock swell inside me then he was spurting. I screamed and he groaned and pumped a few more times, then staggered away. Denise sensed the effect her words had on me, she picked up his belt and began whipping my ass furiously while berating me. She told me what a tramp I was. She called me every name in the book, demanded to know why I was such a slut, how could a nice girl from a decent family do the disgusting things I did, what would my friends think if they could see me now? What would my mother say?
Between the belt and her abuse I was cumming about every thirty seconds. I was squealing in my gag and bouncing up and down on the chair. I tried to talk through my gag. She was right! I was a slut, a cheap little tramp, a whore and a sex slave! Every word was like electricity through my pussy, but when she mentioned my mother the image of Mom watching that man fuck me sent me through the roof. I orgasmed and fainted.
When I woke Denise untied me and I curled up in the chair and fell asleep. I slept until closing time and she drove me home. It was a good thing because I was a mess and in no condition to ride the bus. At my apartment she handed me a large sum of money.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Your share of the fee,” she answered. “We don’t do this for free you know.”
I honestly had not thought about money when I agreed to the session. I was disturbed and didn’t want the money.
“I don’t want that,” I told her. “I’m not a whore.”
She grabbed my breast and pinched my nipple hard. “Yes, you are a whore,” she said fiercely. “You were born one. I can tell when I see that expression on your face.”
“What expression?” I gasped.
“The one you have right now,” she said, pinching my nipple harder. “Only a whore likes this.”
I writhed in delight. I couldn’t help myself. The pain felt wonderful.
“Why are you being so cruel?” I asked.
“Hell, I’m paid to be cruel,” she laughed. “And you’re paid to take it. We’re naturals.”
“But I don’t do it for money,” I said.
“I know,” she said, her fierceness evaporating. She released my nipple and rubbed it gently. She smiled understandingly. “I’d do it for free if I could afford to. And since you didn’t enter into this looking for money, in my book that doesn’t really make you a whore.”
“Just a slut,” I said bitterly.
“Actually, I think you’re one hell of a naturally sensual woman,” she said. “And a natural submissive. You enjoyed what happened to you today didn’t you?”
I blushed and nodded.
“Then why not accept the gifts that will come your way?”
“Am I a prostitute now?” I asked.
“Nope, you weren’t expecting to be paid,“ she said. “And if it makes you fell better, donate the money to charity or use it to pay someone to dominate you in your spare time.”
“Pay you?” I asked sarcastically.
“No, I won’t take your money,” she answered. “Neither will Mary.”
“Why not?”
“Because we like you,” she said. “If you truly feel the need to be dominated just say so. We’ll do it for you for free.”
“Why would you do that?” I asked.
“Because you’re our friend.”
She kissed me, tucked the money into my bra and drove away.
CH 11
I was in a real quandary. Despite what Denise said, I knew enough about the law to know that what I had done constituted prostitution under the law. I had never considered taking money for bondage, and all of my discussions with Denise and Mary had led me to believe that there wasn’t sex during their sessions. I was very naive. I had trouble falling asleep that night. I wanted to talk this out with someone, but calling Mom was out of the question, so was Jill. Jill was a cop, I didn’t think that she would be very sympathetic to learn that I had just joined the ranks of Denver’s hookers.
I finally fell asleep but had some very troubling dreams. I dreamt that my secret was out and I had been exposed to everyone. I was horribly ashamed about the money. Having it known that I was a bondage slave was nothing in comparison. I awoke in the middle of the night whimpering in shame.
I lay awake for a while then fell asleep again and dreamed again. This dream was nicer.
I dreamt that I was a street walking prostitute, only I was a slave prostitute. I had a sleazy pimp who wore a white zoot suit complete with a wide brimmed hat. He led me out onto the street in handcuffs and collar. I wore the same skimpy clothes that I’d worn the night that John took me to jail. My pimp handcuffed me to light pole on a busy corner and offered me to every passing man. He tugged my tank top down to expose my breasts and lifted my skirt to show my pussy. He made me kneel and suck men’s cocks as free samples, but I wasn’t permitted to make them cum, only whet their interest. When a customer decided to buy me, my pimp uncuffed me from the pole and handed me over. The customer would lead me down a dirty alley and torture me.
Sometimes they hung me by my wrists from a fire escape and whipped my breasts and pussy with their belts, then they’d spread my legs and screw me. Other times they bent me over a trash barrel and tormented my poor ass before fucking me. Dozens of people watched my humiliation from tenement windows. When a customer finished with me, my pimp would take me back out to the street and chain me to the pole again.
I woke up with my fingers in my pussy. I got out of bed and washed my face. The dream seemed very real and I was very mixed up. I was ashamed that I dreamt of being a whore, but the bondage and torture were very erotic. I went back to sleep and more dreams came.
Now I was chained to a bed in a cheap motel. The door and windows were open and my pimp stood in the doorway inviting passers by to screw me. Men walked in, looked at my naked body and paid him money.
Man after man crawled atop me and thrust their cocks into me. I sobbed in shame and tugged at my bonds but couldn’t escape. The men didn’t leave after they screwed me, they hung around and watched the next man. Then John walked in wearing his police uniform. He said nothing, he just watched.. He was joined by his young partner Gary, and other police officers. Jill arrived too. She looked at me with total disgust and I tried to hide my face, but couldn’t. Then the police arrested me. They led me naked past crowds of people and threw me in the back of a police car. I was driven to the police station and chained to the desk in the holding room. The officers crowded around and watched as Jill fucked with her night stick, and after I’d exposed my inner soul by having a screaming orgasm, they took turns with me.
The next morning I was an emotional disaster. I was exhausted and decided to skip class. I moped around the apartment until lunch time, then gave in and called Jill. It was her day off and she agreed to meet me for coffee. I dressed very conservatively, trying to reassure myself that I was still a decent girl.
Jill and I chatted for a while, then I told her about my dreams but didn’t mention that I’d already taken money for bondage, just made it sound like I’d had a dream about being it. Jill wasn’t too concerned. She told me that prostitution fantasies weren’t uncommon in decent women. (She still thought I was a decent woman). She slid into her counseling role and gave me a little course in female sex fantasies (as if I didn’t have enough already). She talked about ordinary women who have rape fantasies, domination fantasies, exhibition and infidelity fantasies, and so on. I sat quietly and listened. She knew that I’d been tied by Mary but was distressed when I told her about the session with Denise.
I listened and pretended to want help. Actually all I wanted was companionship. Jill looked at me in disappointment when I told her that I had decided that I was what I was, and it was foolish to try to pretend any differently. I was hooked on bondage and that was that. I told her that I hoped she would still be my friend, but I was going to continue to live that life.
Jill tried to explain about low self esteem and why some women became masochists rather than be alone, all the things I’d already heard in college psych classes. I told her that I wasn’t submissive in order to please some man, I was doing it to please myself. I began to relate in detail some of my experiences. I tidied them up a little, and left out all references to my mother, but I told Jill about hot nights on the farm when I tied myself to the gate post, or hung by my wrists from the loft crane. Jill was squirming in her chair as I told the stories an impish mood came over me. I became more graphic and went into great detail when I told her about my home made torture rack. She almost spilled her coffee when I told her how many orgasms I could give myself just by pushing a weight off the hay loft.
The power position between us shifted. Now I was in charge and Jill no longer lectured me, instead I was making her nervous and uncertain. I watched her closely and talked dirtier. Her nipples were erect under her shirt and I just knew that her pussy was wet. I realized that I actually had power over Jill, even if it was only momentary. I came close to suggesting that we go to my apartment and tie her up. Luckily I didn’t.
I changed the subject, to Jill’s relief, and we talked about ordinary things. As soon as she could, Jill left. I watched as she practically ran to her car.
I felt a little bad for making her so nervous, but laughed inside to think how excited she’d been. I came to the conclusion that down deep just about any woman wanted to be enslaved at one time or another in her life. After all these years I still haven’t met one who won’t admit to having been tied up, or who wanted to be tied.
I went into the ladies room and took off my bra and sensible panties and put them in my purse. Then, while getting into my car I made sure that my knees came apart and a passing gentleman got a good look at my pussy.
I decide to continue working for Denise and Mary and let them rent me out for torture. And if accepting money made me a whore, then so be it. I’d be a whore.
It occurred to me that if I was now officially a prostitute I might get arrested for real. The idea was appealing. I might be able to take off my clothes in the police station again, and if I got real lucky, maybe I’d spend another night in chains.
I went home and tied myself to my bed.
CH 12
Being a professional submissive was not what I’d expected. I’d imagined myself lounging in a slave cell wearing a harem girl costume and chains, languidly waiting to be tortured. In reality I worked by appointments that were set by Denise or Mary. And I didn’t get enough work to make a living at it. I had to keep my part time job. And it wasn’t all fun. Some of the sessions were dull and tawdry, a few were silly and some ludicrous.
Mary arranged a session where we went to a man’s house. It was an ordinary house in an ordinary Denver neighborhood. It wasn’t a mansion like in the bondage novels, and he didn’t answer the door in a tuxedo. He took us to the basement, which had a large wooden table with leather straps, a few ropes hanging from the ceiling, and lots of household junk in cardboard boxes. The family Christmas tree was stuck in a corner.
He didn’t even torture me, Mary did. She wore a dominatrix outfit, black leather mini skirt, black panties a vest and spike heels. I wore a conservative dress.
He watched as Mary stripped me, then tied me to the table and tortured me. She whipped my breasts and belly for a while, all the time chiding me about what a slut I was, then the turned me over and whipped my butt. The customer never participated in my torture, he just watched. Mary put on a nice show for him bending and letting him pool up her skirt and peek at her boobs. She kept a close eye on her watch, (he had paid for two hours) and when the time was nearly up she released me from the table, tied my hands behind me and forced me to kneel and suck his cock. He didn’t even undress, he just unzipped his pants and took out his cock. It wasn’t very large. He spurted onto my face, then he handed Mary the money. I got dressed and we walked out. The man barely spoke the entire session.
“Did you have fun?” Mary asked as we were getting into her car.
“Not really,” I replied. “It was pretty boring.”
“Yes, that’s what I thought,” she said. “But I’m feeling horny. Want to go back to my place for a private bondage session?”
“Only if you promise to whip me for real,” I said. “And start by tying me up here in the car.”
She dug behind the seat and came up with a bunch of leather straps. She buckled them around my ankles knees, thighs and waist. She buckled my arms behind me and worked straps around my stomach and upper body. I was much more excited than I’d been with the customer. I happened to glance toward the house. Our client was watching from a window and he was masturbating.
“I guess he’s more of a man than I thought,” I giggled. “His dick is hard again.”
Mary glanced toward him. “Well, let’s give him a show.”
She tore open my blouse and yanked my bra off. She pinched my nipples and the man masturbated faster. Mary bent over and bit my nipple and I came for real! When I opened my eyes he had disappeared.
“He’d better wash that window before his wife gets home,” Mary said as we drove away.
Some sessions were worse than that. I acquired a regular customer who dressed up in a silly monk’s robe and hood and whipped me with the lightest whip I’d ever seen. He didn’t even hit me hard, he just brushed the whip across my back. At first I bit my lip to keep from laughing but I soon grew so bored that I taunted him to try to make him whip me harder. It didn’t work. He stopped the session and scolded me for talking. He assured me that I was safe and he was never going to really hurt me. I tried to tell him that I wanted to be hurt, but he didn’t want to listen. He gagged me and went back to stroking my body with the little whip. At the end he blind folded me and masturbated. He didn’t even spurt onto me. The only way I knew he came was from his breathing. I felt like giving his money back. Unfortunately I was sold to him on a weekly basis.
Other clients were into silly play acting. They talked in stilted theatrical voices as if they were reading a script from a bad porn movie. Their idea of bondage was just as tepid.
Another client would tie me in a nice hogtie, then sit and talk. And he didn’t talk about sex either. I realized that he was just lonely and felt very sorry for him. I tried to keep the conversation on sex and slavery but rarely could I get him fired up. Most of the time he untied me after the session and sent me on my way. He didn’t even undress.
Not all sessions were dull. One gentleman in particular really knew how to torture a slave girl. (He still knows how. I still see him).
We met at Denise’s dungeon. She rented a small house and converted it to a torture chamber. Apparently she reached an arrangement with the landlord, she got a discount rate and he got tortured for free.
My customer, whom I shall refer to as MAC (his initials). Rented me and the dungeon. We clicked at once and he seemed to know exactly what to do. He stripped me naked, took off his clothes, then tied me into an excruciatingly delightful hogtie. He tied me so tightly that I quickly lost sensation in my hands and feet. While I lay on the floor he whipped every inch of my body (except my face) with a slender and very painful whip. I was covered with tiny pink stripes in minutes and had my first of several orgasms.
MAC let me catch my breath, then grabbed my ankles and spun me around on the floor. It sounds silly but I loved it. I was completely in his control. He pushed me across the floor, rolled me over and over, spun me around using his foot and while I was laughing hysterically, flipped me onto my face and thrust his cock into me.
Instant orgasm!
He fucked me until he came, them he took a break. He didn’t offer to untie me and I was content to stay bound. When he was rested he switched my position so that I was hanging by my wrists. Then he broke out another whip. A lovely, cruel flogger with heavy leather strands. He soon had me shrieking and dancing around trying to escape that monstrous whip. I like pain, but everyone has their limits, and that whip drove me quickly to mine. I begged him to stop.
MAC is a strong and determined man. He put a gag in my mouth, hoisted me higher until my feet were off the floor and resumed whipping me. I cried and pleaded and whimpered and he didn’t care. It was one of the most painful and delicious whippings I’ve ever endured. I came several times, and after almost thirty years I remember it.
When he noticed I’d slipped over the line from pain to pleasure, he dropped the whip and yanked my legs apart. He slid his fingers inside my pussy and wiggled them around until I came. Only he didn’t stop. One of the truest forms of torture is to manipulate a woman’s pussy, especially her clitoris, after she’s had an orgasm. Everything becomes so sensitive that touch becomes painful. And MAC knows that, he’s a sadistic bastard that still does it to me.
He paid for two hours. When they were up he asked if I wanted to leave. I shook my head emphatically no. I mumbled in my gag so he took it out.
“Your time is up,” I said. “Now we’re on my time, and you can have me for as long as you want.”
We had a truly delightful afternoon, the first of thousands together.
MAC is married, has children and grandchildren, and though I am no longer a slave for hire, we still get together at least once a month. Even after I got married my husband never knew that I was being tortured by another man, neither did MAC’s wife. He is still my cruelest master, my most wicked lover, and my dearest friend.
CH 13
Mary arranged another session for me. Like Denise she rented a small house for business purposes. I arrived early and she showed me around. The house was a little bungalow in an old neighborhood. Most of the houses on the block were rentals and were just this side of shabby. Mary’s house looked like all the rest except for having an oversized garage. A previous owner built it to store a large boat. Mary used the garage for her dungeon. The garage had open rafters like our barn back home and it made me feel homesick.
Mary had painted the walls black and lined them with whips and chains and all sorts of bondage paraphernalia. There were a couple of jail cells complete with bars, a large kennel type cage, a real rack made of heavy wooden planks (my pussy throbbed at the sight of that), crosses, stocks, and a closet filled with over sized women’s clothing for cross dressers.
(She had to explain cross dressing to me and how some men pay to be ‘forced’ into wearing women’s clothes. I found the idea repulsive. I prefer men to be dominant and don’t enjoy seeing them in submissive roles. Over the years I’ve watched men submit to dominatrixes but I’ve never enjoyed it. I enjoy being submissive and like other women who are, but I just don’t like wimpy men, even ones who are acting out roles).
In addition to the equipment Mary had decorated the place by hanging a lot of plastic skulls and silly Halloween junk in an effort to make the place more dungeon like. I thought it was a bit silly.
The interior of the house was not much better. The living room was passable with a couch and chairs, and the kitchen was ghastly. It was clean and tidy but the cabinets were old, the counter top was battered and the linoleum worn through. Surprisingly, the bedrooms and the bath were quite nice, which made sense because they were only used for sex, Mary didn’t sleep with her clients but she occasionally leased it to real hookers or she rented it to clients who wanted to use it for trysts. She also hosted bondage parties from time to time.
For my first session she locked me in one of the cells and dimmed the lights.
The client was into humiliation and Mary had coached me as to how to act. When he arrived Mary led him to me. She flicked on a light that illuminated my cell and ordered me to take off my clothes. I begged her not to make me, but she was adamant. Sobbing in shame I slowly undressed. When I was naked I shrank back and tried to cover my breasts and pussy. Mary barked at me to stand still with my hands at my sides. I kept my eyes on the floor while the client examined me.
Mary gave him the key to the cell and left. She went into the house and watched television.
The man brought me out of the cell. He ordered me to stand with my hands clasped behind my head. I pretended to be embarrassed as he touched my body. He squeezed my breasts, explored my pussy, even had me bend over while he inserted a finger up my ass. I kept up my act of pretended shame. After groping me, he grabbed my arm and walked me to the center of the room. He flipped a switch on the wall that turned on several spotlights. I was flooded with light. He walked around me examining me while making comments about my body. I writhed and whimpered as if I were dying of mortification and tried to hide my pussy. Each time I did he cracked a riding crop across my butt. He made me display myself. I had to spread my legs, bend over, arch my back, squat, kneel, lay on my back with my legs in the air. I spread my ass and opened my pussy lips. I furtively touched my clit and got the riding crop across my butt for it.
He dragged a chair out and commanded me to sit with my legs over the arms. He made me clasp my hands behind my neck and shake my breasts. All the time he kept demanding that I admit that I was a slut and that I secretly enjoyed what he was making me do. I sobbingly denied it and pleaded with him to let me cover myself. This only brought more smacks from the riding crop.
Now I enjoyed that session and the longer it went the harder it was to pretend that I didn’t. I loved what he was doing to me only wished that I was performing in front of an audience. The only downside was that he never tied me up.
As the session progressed I pretended to reluctantly admit that I was a slut. He ‘broke down’ my resistance and I confessed to more and more. He marched me to a shelf filled with dildos and ordered me to select several. I carried them back to the center of the room and knelt with my knees apart. I teased my pussy with one while in a small voice I confessed that I had wicked secret thoughts. I admitted that I went out with no panties and played with my pussy in my car and in public places like restaurants and movie theaters. I told him that I was a secretary and kept an enormous dildo in my desk that when no one was watching I opened my legs and shoved it up my pussy.
As I created more and more wicked and outrageous confessions I put the dildo up my pussy and masturbated for real. I was very excited. I got so hot that I put a second one in my ass. I toppled backwards, spread my knees and slammed that dildo in and out of my pussy until I was ready to cum. I arched my back until my weight was on my toes and shoulders. I was thrusting my pussy up into the air in rhythm with my dildo when something warm struck my face. I opened my eyes and was delighted to see the client standing over me masturbating. He pumped his cock and spurted cum for several minutes. I watched the drops of semen arching down in the bright light, saw them land on my chest, felt them hit my face, and I came like an earthquake! I arched my back higher until my weight was on the top of my head, and I wasn’t acting!
When I opened my eyes he was gone. I didn’t know what to do, so I lay there for a while, idly rubbing his cum into my skin. I didn’t know if he was coming back or not so I decided to be patient.
Mary walked in and turned on the lights.
“Nice job. Kiddo,” she said. “He really likes you.”
“Are we done already?” I asked.
“It’s been two and a half hours,” she told me. “He only asked for two. I peeked in and saw that you were both enjoying yourselves so I let the time run over.”
“Two and a half hours?” I stretched contentedly. “I thought we’d just started.”
The dildo was still in my pussy. Mary laughed. “Would you like to borrow that for a while?”
“I think I’ll keep it,” I replied.” Just deduct it from my check.”
“Go take a shower,” she laughed. “I’ll clean up in here. I have to leave soon.”
“Do you have another appointment?” I asked.
“Nope, PTA meeting tonight. Get going.”
I showered and dressed, but before I put my panties on I slide the dildo up my pussy again, then used my undies to hold it in. Mary was waiting in the kitchen. I lifted my skirt and showed her my panties. Her eyebrows rose in question.
“I didn’t think you wore panties,“ she commented.
“I usually don’t,” I said. “But I’m wearing your dildo home.”
“Keep it with my best wishes,” she laughed. She reached over, pulled the waistband of my panties open and dropped my share of the money in.
CH 14
I had done about a dozen sessions when Mary asked if I’d be willing to go to client’s house on my own. She told me that the client and his wife wanted a servant girl for the evening. She knew them quite well and vouched for my safety, but understood if I wasn’t prepared to simply take her word for it. I asked what they wanted from me and she replied that I would be a ‘French maid’, complete to skimpy costume and high heels, and that I would be trained to be a maid but probably get a lot of punishment if I didn’t learn quickly. I thought it over and agreed to go.
Several days before the session Mary took me to a costume shop and had me fitted for my maid’s outfit. The client was paying for it and apparently paying quite well. The seamstress was expecting us and completed the dress ready the same day as my fitting. We also selected a pair of ridiculously high heeled patent leather shoes. The heels were so high that I had to practice walking in them. I wore them around my apartment every evening.
Mary drove me to the session. She arrived at my apartment and helped me get into costume.
The maid’s dress was silvery gray with white lace trim. The skirt was very short and under it I wore a stiff ruffled petticoat which pushed the skirt out like a ballet tutu. The ensemble included a lace cap and apron, black thigh high stockings and white lacy panties. Mary brought extra panties, a dozen in all. She explained that panties were going to play a large role in the session and were likely to be torn off of me several times. I would need extras. I put on one pair, Mary folded another and tucked them into the breast pocket of my dress so that they just peeked out and put the remainder in the apron pocket. She also added several pair of stockings.
I looked at myself in the mirror and had to admit that I looked and felt very sexy. Mary took several pictures. Mary was dressed in an expensive and elegant dress. She looked nothing at all like a dominatrix.
I put my raincoat on over the costume and Mary drove me to the client’s house. I whistled when we arrived. It was literally a mansion. We were admitted by a tall elegant gentleman wearing a dark blue suit. I expected a butler but he turned out to be the client. He took us into a parlor and introduced us to his wife. Her name will be Lady L, he is Lord L. (Oh they weren’t English, but they possessed a degree of grace and elegance that was almost aristocratic).
Lady L was about forty at the time. She was tall and slender, almost lanky. Her face was thin and hatchet like. She had a beaky nose and large predatory eyes. Mary introduced me as the new temporary maid. Lady L suggested that I remove my coat. They looked me over, then both nodded in approval. Lady L asked to see my panties so I lifted my skirt. They looked at me for several minutes, then she made a twirling motion with her hand. I turned slowly in place. I enjoyed being looked at.
“I think that you will do,” Lady L told me. “Come with me and I’ll show you your duties.”
She took me to the kitchen and had me brew a pot of tea. “All of the regular staff are on vacation,“ she said. “So I am afraid the burden of service will fall upon you alone.”
“Yes ma am,” I said.
“You understand that we require strict adherence to high standards of conduct,” she warned me. “And corporal punishment is used to correct infractions.”
“Yes ma am.”
“For example, if you spill things or are untidy you will be spanked on the spot,” she said.
I immediately spilled some of the tea. “Oh dear,“ I gasped.
“Heavens!” she said. “That is precisely what I meant. Now I must spank you. Lean over the table and rest your elbows on it.”
“Yes ma am.” I bent over the table. She didn’t have to lift my skirt, that stiff petticoat pushed it up so that my butt was exposed. Lady L touche my bottom gently, she slipped her fingers between my legs and caressed my pussy. I opened my legs obligingly.
“I hope that you aren’t one of those naughty girls who get excited easily,” she said. “I don’t want you walking around with damp underwear.”
Too late for that. My panties were getting wetter by the second.
“I’ll do my best ma am,” I said. “But I must confess that sometimes I am a naughty girl.”
“We will just have to correct that,” she said firmly. “Beginning now.”
She slipped my panties down and spanked me. She must get a lot of practice because her hand was hard and stung like the dickens. She gave me about twenty smacks and my butt was soon burning. So was my pussy.
She pulled my panties up. “See to it that you keep your underwear on at all times,” she told me. “I don’t mind looking at pussies but my husband is a busy man and I don’t wish to have him distracted.”
“Yes ma am.”
She returned to the parlor and I finished making tea. I took it out on a silver tray and served them. I bustled around pouring tea and placing cookies out. I bent over a lot and saw to it that every one got a good look up my skirt and down my cleavage. Then I retreated to the wall and stood quietly.
Mary chatted with Lord and Lady L for a while, then having finished her tea she left. I tidied up the tea things then Lady L Instructed me as to how I should comport myself. I was shown how to walk in a prissy mincing style, to stand with my chest out, my hands at my sides and my palms down, to bend with my feet together. I felt like Bettie Boop. When I was able to walk and stand to her satisfaction, Lady L told me to dust the furniture. She told me to start in the formal dining room.
The room was large and furnished with a massive medieval looking table. It was ten feet long, five feet wide and built of heavy dark wood. The top was several inches thick and adorned with massive bronze fittings, including heavy rings. I didn’t have to be told that the table was an antique and undoubtedly very expensive. I didn’t know what purpose the rings may have served originally but I giggled when it occurred to me that they would be handy for tying down slaves. As it turned out, I was right.
I was puttering around with a feather duster when Lord L entered the room. I made sure he got a good look at my panties. He called me over and told me that he preferred that maids be naked under their skirts. He knelt and took my panties off. He tucked them in his pocket, patted my ass, and wandered away.
Moments later Lady L came in and immediately saw that I wasn’t wearing panties. She scolded me for disobeying and gave me another spanking, then ordered me to put on my panties. Lord L had taken them with him so I took a pair from my apron.
She left and he returned. He was outraged that I was wearing panties. He marched me to a chair and dragged me over his lap. He tore my panties to shreds and gave me a sound paddling. Twenty minutes later Lady L noticed that I was naked under my skirt and guess what happened.
For the entire evening I was spanked for wearing panties, and for not wearing panties. My butt was red and very sore and my pussy tingled.
At about pair number six of my reserve panties Lady L discovered that sure enough, my pussy was wet. She was outraged and concluded that simple spankings weren’t getting through to me. She made me lie across her lap face up and spread my legs, then she spanked my pussy. Lord L came into the room and she told him that spanking my butt didn’t seem to be enough. They discussed the matter while she slapped my pussy and they decided that all spankings would be between my legs. That was fine with me.
I’m afraid I wasn’t a very good servant. Aside from being unable to get it right about wearing panties I made other mistakes. I spilled water on the kitchen floor, I bumped into Lord L’s chair, I knocked over a stack of magazines, and did many other clumsy and unacceptable things. They had to spank me many, many times.
I was so bad that Lord L opened a cabinet and called me over. I stood rubbing my butt as he showed the cabinet’s contents. It was filled with riding crops, paddles and whips. He warned that they would have no choice but to use them on me if I didn’t improve. I hung my head and promised to be good, but unfortunately as I turned to go I almost knocked over a lamp. Sighing with exasperation Lord L removed a wooden paddle and told me to bend over.
Lord and Lady L tried their best to teach me to be a good and proper servant, but no matter how hard they tried I continued to make mistakes. They used every paddle in the cabinet on my very tender butt, to no avail. As the evening went on they were forced to use riding crops and eventually whips on me. I didn’t complain, they were only looking out for my best interests.
When Lord L came to the conclusion that not even riding crops were getting through to me he had no choice but to use a whip.
They took me to an enormous bedroom. Lady L buckled leather cuffs to my wrists while Lord L lowered a chandelier from the ceiling. He unhooked the chandelier and set it aside, then clipped my cuffs to the hook and raised me until I was a tip toe.
Then he whipped me.
Lady L sat regally in a chair and watched as her husband methodically tore my dress to shred with the whip. He was quite adept with the whip, and I was nearly naked before the whip touched my skin. But when it did I felt it!
I was soon shrieking in pain, and I was not play acting. That whip hurt! (But it was sexy too).
After a few dozen strokes he stopped and Lady L rose and removed the wreckage of my dress. She released me from my bonds and ordered me to go into the bathroom and clean up.
I washed my face, touched up my makeup, and went out. The bedroom was empty. I rummaged through my dress and found the spare panties and stockings. I put new ones on and went out. I had to serve the rest of my shift nearly naked.
Lord L asked me to bring him a drink and clumsy me, I dropped some ice cubes on the floor. That earned me another whipping, this time from Lady L, and believe me, she was just as good with a whip as her husband. She had me dancing in pain.
My doltish inability to serve Lord and Lady L forced them to punish me well into the night. At one in the morning they gave up and went to bed. I was given a pillow and blankets and permitted to sleep on the floor beside their bed. And I got to watch as they made love.
Unfortunately being the silly slut I was, I grew so excited that I played with myself and they caught me. To keep me from doing such a wicked thing, they tied me tightly, covered me with the blankets and turned out the lights.
The next morning Lord L woke and untied me. Lady L was still asleep. He told me to clean up in a guest bathroom, then make myself breakfast in the kitchen. I looked around for my clothing but my panties had disappeared during the night. All I could find were my shoes and cap.
After eating I returned to their bedroom and knocked softly on the door. Lady L called me in and told me that I was to bring her a pot of coffee, then attend to Lord L in his shower.
Lord L was waiting when I brought the coffee. He directed me to start the shower then remove my cap and shoes and put on a shower cap. He entered the shower stall, which was huge, and ordered me to wash him. Well, as I soaped his body, I couldn’t resist touching his rather large cock and it became hard instantly. He was very patient and generous and permitted me to stroke, then suck his cock until he spurted into my mouth.
After Lord L had completed his toilette he dressed and instructed me to draw a bath for Lady L. As with him, I attended to her needs as she soaked in the tub. I washed her body and it seemed that my hands had a mind of their own. They inevitably strayed to her breasts and pussy and in no time at all I was fingering her into a wonderful orgasm. Lady L grew so passionate that she splashed a lot of water out of the tub. Afterwards I toweled her body then cleaned up the mess.
I found a mop and while mopping the floor a wicked urge came over me and I couldn’t resist fucking my self with the mop handle. I lay back on the cool marble floor and slid the handle inside my pussy. I made so much noise that Lady L heard and came in. I started to get up but she commanded me not to move. She called Lord L in and they stood and looked at me. Lord L sighed resignedly and told me that I might as well finish what I was doing so I fucked my self to a sweet orgasm as they watched. Of course, this earned me another whipping. This time they took turns.
After my whipping Lady L told me to make the bed and tidy the bedroom, then wait. She returned and told me that Mary had arrived to take me home. She looked me over and decided that I shouldn’t leave completely naked. She opened her dressing gown and told me to kneel at her feet.
“You may remove my panties and wear them home,” she said.
I gasped in amazement. What an honor for me!
I slid her underwear down and she stepped out of them.
“Fetch me another pair from my dresser,” she commanded. “And a pair of stockings.”
I crawled on my hands and knees to the dresser, opened a drawer and found her lingerie. I selected a pair of panties and held them for her to see. She nodded and I crawled back. I started to put them on her, when on an impulse I kissed her tummy.
“What in the world?” she asked.
“Forgive me ma am,” I said. “But I couldn’t resist.”
She looked at me sternly, then her expression softened. “Oh, very well,” she said. “Come over here.”
She sat in a chair, opened her gown and spread her legs. I crawled between them and kissed her pussy. This was the first time in my life that I actually put my mouth on another woman’s pussy and I loved it. The only thing missing was I wasn’t tied up. I thrust my tongue as deep into Lady L as I could. I licked and kissed and nibbled her until she came.
When she collapsed in orgasm I sat on my knees and waited until her breathing returned to normal.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t do a better job ma am,” I said. “But I’ve never done that before.”
She smiled at me and touched my hair gently.
“Don’t worry my child,” she said. “I’ll see to your training when you come back. I’ll make sure that you get lots of practice.”
“Thank you ma am.”
“You may put my panties on,” she said. “The fresh pair on me, the others on yourself.”
I slipped her panties up her legs then she surprised me by holding her old ones for me to step into. She checked to see that they fit properly by running her fingers over every inch of the material, especial the crotch. I was pink faced and breathing hard when she finished. Then she put the stockings on me and told me to find my shoes.
I felt very sexy wearing her panties. When I got home I carefully packed them away. I still have them. Once a year I put them on. When I press them to my face I can almost taste Lady L’s pussy again.
Mary was waiting when we came out of the bedroom. She helped me into my rain coat and took me home.
“They want you back in a few weeks,” she told me.
“Well, they’ll have to pay for another maid’s dress,” I told her. “The one I came in is ruined.”
“Not to worry,” she said. “The seamstress was told to make several in your size.”
I told her about my night on the drive home. Mary was surprised when I told her how Lady L had disciplined me.
“That’s a change for her,” Mary said. “Usually she’s submissive.”
“What?”
“I’ve seen her crawling on her hands and knees and sucking cocks while her husband watches,” Mary said. “That’s how I got to know them. He brings her to my parties and lets everyone treat her like dirt. She loves it.”
I stared at Mary in utter astonishment. The idea of aristocratic Lady L in slavery was unbelievable!
“But she’s such a grand lady,” I marveled. “And to think, just half an hour ago I was on my knees between her legs.”
“I imagine her pussy tastes like any other,” Mary chuckled.
“I wouldn’t know,” I said. “It’s the first one I’ve ever eaten.”
Mary looked at me in surprise. I smiled and leaned back against the seat.
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