“Hey, Sara, get over here! Customer!”
Sara sighed. It had been only recently that she had moved to San Francisco from her small-time town in California , but she had a feeling that she would never really fit in. The different people, the atmosphere – it was proving to be all a little bit too much for this country girl. She looked over at her boss in her big, blue eyes. Mark was a great guy, if not a tad pushy during busy times. She did, however, feel safe with him – she knew for a fact he was gay, and therefore the awkwardness that usually existed with men and Sara was gone. And, with the way Sara looked, Mark was one of the few people in the store who wasn't drooling over her. Petite, with long blonde hair and quite large breasts – she was indeed a sight for sore eyes.
She walked over, rolling her eyes slightly. It was nearly 5pm – the end of her shift – and today had been a particularly long day. She rested on the desk and looked brightly at the woman in front of her.
“Yes Ma'am, how may I help you?”
The woman seemed quite quiet, her eyes never met Sara's. She looked around at the clothes with an air of confidence, her big red lips pouting arrogantly. She had been here every day this week, never buying anything, just looking. Sara had never heard her speak – she would often just leave with a grunt of disapproval. Sara hated these customers.
“Ma'am? Can I help?”
Instantly the woman looked into Sara's eyes, glaring. Sara was taken aback – she had not expected such an aggressive final customer of the day. She composed herself again and smiled.
“Is there anything that takes your fancy, Ma'am?”
The woman smiled weakly; her lips turning. “Yes, as a matter of fact, there is.” Her words seemed so cold and harsh compared to Sara's, making her feel uneasy. Why was she always left with the weird ones?
“I'm having dinner tonight at Dino's tonight, and I was wondering if you'd like to come along.”
Again the woman's words took her by surprise. She was used to getting dates of guys, but women? This was a new experience.
“Oh, no, sorry, I'm not a lesbian.” Sara tried to laugh it off, but she could feel the woman's stare cutting into her.
“I know. Come.” The woman had stopped smiling, and the offer had turned into an order. “7.30. I'll be expecting you.” And with that, the brunette walked out, her heels clicking on the marble floor. Sara watched her leave. What the hell just happened? She had started to sweat a little. She wasn't good in these circumstances, she knew it.
“Hey, Mark! Funny story…”
Mark was always in the mood for gossip. “Oh?”
“Yeah, I just got hit on by a customer.”
“Oh really? Was he cute?”
“Well, that's the thing. It wasn't a he, exactly…”
“Oh really?! Gosh, Sara, you're certainly attracting the oddballs. Did you let her down easy?”
“Well, not exactly. She seemed very insistent, y'know?”
Sara was really sweating now. She hadn't said no, and she had no way of contacting this woman to cancel. Dammit.
“Well, how do you know she was hitting on you? Maybe she's just bad with people, and she just wants you as a friend. You seem like an easily approachable person, anyway.”
Sara smiled at this. Of course that was what it was. She wasn't a lesbian – she had told the woman this. The woman just wanted a friend to come to dinner with her. Of course.
“So are you going to go?”
“Well, I don't have much choice. I can't cancel, and I'd hate to stand her up.”
She giggled slightly. She hadn't got any other plans for tonight, so this was a welcome surprise. Plus, in this big new city , she needed all the friends she could get. She said goodbye to Mark, and went back home to get changed for her night out.
7.35, and she was still in the taxi in traffic. Darn, I hope she's not one of those obsessive types, she thought as the rain came down the window of the taxi. She hated being late, but what with this being her first month in a new city , she was getting it a lot. She got out at Dino's, and walked in, noticing the brunette sitting on her table all alone. She pulled up a chair and giggled.
“Ooh, weather out there is awful, eh?”
The woman looked up at her angrily.
“You're late.”
Sara stood there for a second, taken aback by her tone. She really wasn't good with people.
“Well, only five minutes…”
“You're late.” Her eyes started to dig into her again, and she started to sweat.
“S-sorry.” She went to sit down, but the woman put up a hand to stop her.
“Did I say you could sit?”
“W…what?”
“Did I say you could sit?”
“No, but do I need permission?”
The brunette said nothing, just glared at her. After a moment, she nodded her head. “You may sit.” Sara sat down, shocked. What a bitch! Still, she was probably just nervous. First impressions are always the worst. The woman looked at her with those big brown eyes, and smiled.
“So, tell me. What's your name?”
“Sara. Yours?”
“Ms Davies.”
Sara laughed. “Have you a first name then?”
“You needn't know it.”
Sara rolled her eyes. There was something strange about this woman – still, it was a night out, something of a rarity for Sara these days.
“So, tell me about yourself, Ms Davies. What do you do for a living?”
Silence. Ms Davies just stared at Sara, making Sara shake slightly. Sara couldn't maintain eye contact any longer and looked at the floor to escape Ms Davies gaze. Ms Davies, with a slight smile, ignored her question and cast her eyes down at the menu.
“You shall have the duck, I believe. It's very good.”
Sara, not daring to look up in case of that terrifying stare, muffled a snort. How dare she be so arrogant to pick her meal? Still looking down, she opened her mouth to speak, only to be instantly interrupted by Ms Davies. “You will have the duck.” Her voice was less suggestive, ordering her.
“Yeah, OK. It looks good.” Sara tried to smile up at Ms Davies, but found herself powerless to do so. Her pouting lips and her fiery but harsh eyes made it so hard to disobey.
Ms Davies could certainly pick a meal. When the duck came, it looked delicious, and Sara was just picking up her knife and fork when Ms Davies stopped her.
“Did I say you could eat?”
“What?!” This was ridiculous! She turned to look up at Ms Davies (whose food had arrived some five minutes ago), and started to complain. “You can't tell me when I can and can't eat!”
Ms Davies flashed her another glare and moved in closer.
“Do as I say, Sara.”
She was unsure at what happened exactly, but Sara melted in front of this powerful, beautiful woman. She seemed to have control over her – control she couldn't explain.
“Yes Ms Davies.”
Ms Davies finished her meal and then allowed Sara to eat. Sara did not speak for the rest of the meal, confused at what was going on. This woman had been so rude to her! She had forbade her to sit down, to eat, refused to tell Sara her first name, hell, anything! But…but at the same time, Sara felt so powerless to stop her. She shivered as the bill came. She wanted to get out of here. This was freaking her out. She got up to leave, but yet again, Ms Davies managed to stop her.
“Come back to my place, Sara.”
Sara started to panic. What had she let herself in for? She could barely get the words out.
“N-n…No, I've got a busy shift tomorrow, and…”
“I don't care, Sara. Come back to my place.”
Sara hung her head. She had no idea how, but she was now heading to Ms Davies' flat. She was petrified that this woman had such power and control over her that she could make her do what ever she pleased. Sara just couldn't say no.
“Come in, Sara.”
Sara meekly walked into Ms Davies' apartment. Every part of her body was shaking – why was she here? Why couldn't she just leave? She considered running – Ms Davies wouldn't be able to do anything. The door slammed shut. No chance of that now.
“Sara, what did you notice about tonight?”
Sara's throat was dry. “I…I don't…”
“Let me put it another way. Who was the more…powerful tonight?” She smiled knowingly. Sara was trapped.
“I…”
“Who chose when you sat down, when you ate, what you ate, whether you came here…who chose what you should know and what you shouldn't?”
“…you, Ms Davies.”
“That's right. So then. Logically, who has all the power in this relationship?”
“You, Ms Davies.”
“Who then, logically, is the superior in this relationship?”
“You, Ms Davies.”
“And who…who is inferior?”
“M…me, Ms Davies.”
Ms Davies smiled. “I'm glad you're accepting it, Sara. The whole night, you seemed to think that we were on the same level. I'm…better than you, Sara. Don't you think so?”
Sara stood, stunned. “Y-yes Ms Davies.”
“Yes Ms Davies what?”
“Yes Ms Davies, you are better than me.”
“I am superior to you, Sara. You should be honoured to be in my house, in my lounge – you should be honoured to be in front of me. Kneel.”
“W-what?”
“Well, Sara. I am superior. You should do as I say, surely. Surely I needn't spell it out to you?”
Sara dropped to her knees. What was she doing?
“As an inferior being, you should always be on your knees when in front of me when we are alone, or when I say. At the drop of a hat, you should do what I say. For I am better than you, Sara. Remember that.”
“Yes…yes Ms Davies.”
“Hrm. I'm getting tired of Ms Davies. From now on, you will always call me Mistress.”
Oh god…oh god…Sara's mind was racing. What was going on?
“Yes Mistress.”
“And…and I will call you what I like, Sara. Anything at all.”
“Yes Mistress.”
Ms Davies smiled, looking down at her victim. “When I address you, you shall answer “Yes Mistress”. Is that clear?”
“Yes Mistress.”
Ms Davies laughed slightly. “Is that clear, whore?”
“Yes Mistress.”
“Bitch.”
“Yes Mistress.”
“Slut.”
“Yes Mistress.” Sara's humiliation was never ending, it seemed. She shed a tear. What had she become?
“Strip, whore.”
“What?” Despite her treatment, Sara had not been expecting anything like this. Surely she had enough good inside her to see she had broken Sara, and anything more would just be cruel?
“I said strip, whore!” A hard slap across the face reduced Sara to tears. “I don't like hitting sluts, Sara. I like it when they do exactly as I say the first time.”
“W…why do I need to strip, Mistress?” Sara was clutching at straws – it had all been so rapid, her transformation into a sub-human, that she hadn't had time to realise that Ms Davies didn't need a reason.
“Don't you ever listen, slut? If I want it, I get it. Whatever I ask for, you do. Now don't fucking doubt me again!” With that she slapped Sara again, producing blood to trickle down her lip. “Are you going to do as I say, Sara? Hrm?”
She wiped away her tears. She felt so worthless, so pathetic. “Yes Mistress.” She got off her knees and took off her blouse, sobbing as she did so. Why was she doing this? Ms Davies hadn't held her at gunpoint, she was, in fact, free to do as she wished really. But Ms Davies had such power. Her height of 6ft dwarfed Sara, and whilst her breasts were slightly smaller than Sara's, her lips and eyes made Sara feel like nothing – as if she was a mere mortal in front of a goddess. Her nipples began to harden, and her heart beat faster – oh, God, she wasn't starting to enjoy this, was she?
Sara stood in front of Ms Davies in just a bra and panties, tears streaming down her face. Her nipples started to poke through, and her pussy was starting to go moist. Ms Davies looked at her coldly.
“All of it, slut.”
Sara whimpered again, and started to unhook her bra, revealing her large breasts. Ms Davies raised her eyebrows – round and plump, with hard, bullet nipples – she was stunning. Sara lowered her panties, still sobbing, and stood before Ms Davies, shaved and beautiful. Sara automatically went to cover up her breasts and pussy, but Ms Davies tutted as she got up.
“Hands behind head, girl. Legs apart, eyes lowered.” Ms Davies walked around her new toy, smiling cruelly as Sara quietly cried. “Shut up, slut. Good girls don't cry. They listen to their Mistress and they do as they say.”
“Yes Mistress. Sorry Mistress.” Sara had given in – this woman, who just hours ago had been nothing more than a customer, had complete control of her. Whatever she desired, Sara felt she had to do. She sniffed, trying to stop the tears of humiliation as Ms Davies inspected her body. She prodded her with a cane, murmuring approvingly as Sara twitched. She stroked her breast, looking over her like a piece of meat.
“Very nice indeed, girl.” She suddenly grabbed Sara's breasts, pulling them, and smiled as Sara's face scrunched up in pain. Sara gasped as she let go, and bit her lip as Ms Davies smiled at her. “Is that good, slut?” All Sara could muster was a nod and a moan, and at this Ms Davies laughed. “Is my little whore enjoying this? Do you like the feel of a real woman touching you?” Again Sara moaned. She had no idea what was happening, but this pain felt good. It felt incredible.
In a flash, Ms Davies was behind her. “Bend for me, slut.” Wilfully, Sara bent over, thrusting her ass into the air. Her heart was racing. She didn't know how, but she loved this woman using her and controlling her, yet at the same time hated herself for doing this. But…she loved being her bitch. “I said legs apart! Are you deaf, bitch?” She whipped her legs, and instantly Sara's confusion about conflicting emotions didn't matter. She had to do as Ms Davies said. Now. She quickly spread her legs wider than she had before, revealing her pussy to her Mistress. Ms Davies smiled and bent down, placing her mouth beside Sara's ear.
“Good girl. Now, we're going to play a game. Every time I hit you with my cane” – at this point she dangled a cane in front of Sara's eyes, making her quiver even more – “you will count along and say “Thank you Mistress”. If you stop counting or forget to thank me, we'll start again. Your aim is to get to fifteen. My aim is to stop you. If you win…you'll get a treat. If I win...” She laughed as she snapped the cane down next to Sara “…you'll get something else. Is that clear, slut?”
“Yes Mistress.” Sara bit her lip again – she'd never been caned before as a girl – or as an adult for that matter. The worst pain she ever got from sex was hitting her head on the top of the bed – this was something totally different.
Thwack. And fucking hell, it hurt. Sara jumped out of her skin as the cane smashed down – she let out a loud cry, her ass on fire. Ms Davies smiled. “Oh dear, slut! You forgot to count, it seems. Or thank me for that matter. Let's start again, shall we – and this time, try to get it right?”
Thwack. Jesus, she felt the cane making its mark on her round ass and she felt the pain shoot through her body – she automatically went to cover up her butt but felt the cane strike there too. “Oi! Stop that, bitch! Who said you could move your hands there? Hrm?” Ms Davies roughly grabbed Sara's hands and tied them together with a piece of rope. “Now then. I hope I don't have to do that again, bitch. And you still didn't thank me for beating you! Stupid whore!” This time Ms Davies smashed down on Sara's poor reddening ass with more venom than before. She was furious and Sara knew she better do as she said.
“Oww! One, thank you Mistress!” Thwack. “Oh, god! Two, thank you Mistress!” Thwack. “OwwwwW! Three…thank you Mistress!” She felt her ass burning up – the pain was unbearable – she tried to move her hands again to stop it but couldn't break through the rope. She started to sob again, and at this Ms Davies stopped and moved next to her slut.
“Aww. Is Sara not enjoying this?” Sara nodded her head. In a way she was – she liked to feeling of doing what her Mistress said – but this pain hurt so much. Perhaps Ms Davies had some sympathy in her, she tutted and looked at Sara. “Well, if that's the case – if you really don't like being beaten…” She looked at Sara sympathetically, brushing away her hair. A sudden smack across the face took away any belief that Ms Davies had any mercy. “Who said you could fucking choose? Huh? Who's the one with the power, bitch?”
“You are Mistress.”
“And therefore who does everything I say? Huh?”
“I do.”
“And why is that, cunt?”
Sara looked down at the floor and accepted her position. “Because I am inferior.”
“Exactly. Now I don't want any more fucking complaining, you hear?”
Sara nodded, and instantly Ms Davies ran back behind Sara again and started beating her again, Sara quietly sobbing whilst counting along and thanking her Mistress. Finally, after Sara screamed “Fifteen! Thank you Mistress!”, Ms Davies rubbed the welts on Sara's ass and laughed.
“Hurt, bitch?” Sara just nodded, all her energy gone. She had been degraded and humiliated in one night – she started it as a respectable woman in a new city , and ended it as a sub human. Nothing. She wept as Ms Davies walked in front of her, untied her wrists and smiled.
“Now, Sara. Have you had fun tonight, girl?”
She couldn't explain it. She was nothing, but she loved it. She was a whore, a bitch, a cunt, a slut, a tramp – she was everything dirty and nothing clean…and she loved it. Sara nodded, but reluctantly. She didn't want to admit it so thoroughly just yet though.
“That's good, slut. Now tomorrow I will be dining at Dino's again. 7.30. You will be there. I don't care if you have other plans. And you'll wear something a little skimpier than you did tonight. A skirt, with no panties, and a blouse with no bra. Is that clear?”
Sara nodded again. She controlled every other part of her life, it seemed, why not her dress?
“Good girl. Now crawl to the door, I'll let you out.”
Sara looked at her, shocked. Go out into the hall naked? Anyone could see her! That seemed a bit much. She looked up at Ms Davies pleadingly, too tired to speak.
“Don't worry, slut. You'll get used to changing in front of people you don't know. You'll also get used to being naked more often than not.” Ms Davies walked to the door, pulling Sara by the hair. “Come on, out you go, bitch!” She opened the door, with Sara now begging feverishly for her not to, and tossed her out into the hall. Sara sat naked in the hall for a couple of seconds, before Ms Davies threw some clothes at her. “Oh, I'm keeping your bra and panties, by the way, Sara. You won't need them.” She laughed wickedly and closed the door, leaving Sara to get dressed quickly before anyone saw her – in vain, as it turned out – three men managed to see Sara completely naked as they walked out of their apartment. Sara blushed – but secretly she loved the exposure. She loved being dirty, being used, being forced to do what anybody wished – just being someone's little whore, little tramp, little slut. She smiled as she put on her top and walked away. Better get used to that, I suppose, she thought as she giggled to herself.
The next day at work, Sara could barely concentrate. Her mind wondered as she rubbed her ass – it still hurt to sit down, so she had to avoid it as much as possible. Every time her hand ran across her backside she would remember how she felt as Ms Davies whacked the cane down across her ass, and how she would laugh as Sara cried out in pain. She was getting wet just thinking about it – she bit her lip and thought more about what Ms Davies had said. She was superior in every way to Sara. Something about that made Sara feel excited – she had no idea what. Usually she would be offended by such rude behaviour, but when Ms Davies said it – instantly she had to do what she said, accept her words as gospel. She felt compelled to – and she had no idea why. Being forced to do things she didn't want to was – bizarrely – a turn on. She was repelled by the idea of going out or kissing a woman. Sex needed a man in order for it to be enjoyable, she would often say. She had, in old relationships, thought about having another woman in there as well, but only if a man was there. She had nothing against lesbians, she just didn't want to be one. And yet, she found herself being ordered to perform sexual acts by this woman. And she loved it. It was all so confusing. Perhaps tonight Ms Davies would explain the situation more. Perhaps she would let Sara in on this strange phenomenon – this thing she couldn't explain. This thing that made her feel like an utter slut, and absolutely love it. Her mind didn't want to be a slut – she wanted to be an ordinary person, living life – not some two-bit whore…but then…but then her body wanted to give itself up to Ms Davies – she wanted Ms Davies to do whatever she wanted to her. Beat her, tie her, rape her, use her – everything and anything. It was too confusing – she started to sweat as she thought over it more. Her hand started to reach down to her clit as she gasped…
“Sara?” Fuck! She took her hand away instantly and sweetly walked up to Mark.
“Yes?” At times she really hated Mark – especially when he told her to look after customers when she was about start masturbating. Although, to be fair to Mark, this didn't happen often.
“Are you OK? We're going to close up the shop – it's just gone 6.30. Usually you're out of the door in a flash.”
“Oh, it's nothing, Mark. Seriously. Absolutely nothing.” She said this in such a way that Mark instantly knew that this was something.
“What is it? Come on, Sara, you can tell me. Problems at home?” Considering she lived alone, she thought this was a particularly stupid question. “Money problems? Family trouble? Problems in love?” Instantly Sara's face went bright beetroot. Damn. Given herself away.
“Fine. Mark, you remember yesterday, I decided to go with that woman to that restaurant?” Mark nodded. He was obviously captivated. “The whole evening was really weird. She treated me like a child – no, worse – like something sub human. She didn't let me know her first name, she chose what I had to eat, she even told me when to sit down. Then, she ordered that I should go to her house! Of all the nerve!”
“So you just refused?” Sara blushed again. This was going to be awkward.
“Urm…not exactly. That's the thing. She had this sort of power. She made me feel inferior. It was…weird. Really weird.” Mark was nodding away, not surprised by this in the slightest. Sara found this bizarre. What kind of man accepts this as normal?
“Then what happened?” Mark was really getting into the story now. Sara was starting to wish it ended in a different way – she wasn't quite ready to admit that she was stripped and beaten by a lesbian to her boss.
“Then…then she ordered that I knelt before her…and…” She broke down. She couldn't admit this to Mark! He'd think she was just a common whore and fire her on the spot!
“…she ordered that you strip?” Mark said these words so casually, you'd think he came across them every day. Sara gasped slightly, taken aback. She slowly nodded, and Mark sighed. “Yep, it's always the same. Shall I tell you what's happened, Sara?” Sara nodded again. “This woman's into kinky sex. She's into S and M and all that. It's not a problem for some people, I just wouldn't think you'd be into that sort of thing. They hang out in this area, looking for people who they think would like to become their slaves.” Sara's eyes widened. Slave? Being a whore or a slut was one thing, but a slave? Jesus, what had she let herself in for?
“S-slave? As in...” Mark interrupted her immediately.
“Let me tell you a story. An ex of mine, John, met this guy on the internet who was into this sort of thing. They had a fun couple of dates – the guy did almost exactly the same thing as this woman did to you on the first date – and one month later, this guy had forced John to give him all his worldly possessions and do exactly as he says. John signed a contract and became a slave. He's still in that guy's basement, being used and beaten up every day.”
“Does he…enjoy it?” Mark laughed in Sara's face.
“Does he enjoy it?! He hates it! He was just looking for some fun, but this guy has him tied up in his basement and rapes him whenever he wants! And it's all legal. He signed a contract, he gave everything to this guy, and now there's no way out.”
Sara trembled in her seat. What if…what if exactly the same thing happened to her? I mean, she could try to control herself, but Ms Davies had such power over her, she could soon be signing her life away! She could soon be tied up in Ms Davies closet, used whenever Ms Davies saw fit, and fed on scraps of food! No-one would hear her cries for help, as she'd be trapped. Forever. She shuddered. She had to break it off with Ms Davies, before anything else happened.
7.32. Again, late. But this time, Sara didn't care. She had dressed in her frumpiest attire, wearing exactly the opposite of what Ms Davies had ordered. She stormed into the restaurant and sat down opposite Ms Davies. She mustered up all of her pride and courage, and angrily spoke.
“Right. I don't know what you think you're doing, but I'm not going to stand for it, you hear? I'm a respectable woman! I'm not inferior to you, I'm not your bitch, your whore, your slut! I'm Sara, and I demand respect from you! You can't turn me into your slave – I don't want to be a part of your kinky sex any longer!” She stopped, breathless, looking up at Ms Davies, who had been reading the menu all this time.
“You're late again, Sara.” Sara was outraged. She'd just poured out her entire soul, using a great deal of courage and anger, and this woman pretended that she hadn't heard any of it.
“Yes, I'm fucking late, and I don't expect it to bother you! I'm a respectable woma…” Ms Davies put her hand up and silenced her. She looked up from her menu, and straight into the eyes of Sara. Again, like the first night, she felt herself melting away. Oh, Christ.
“Sara, when you were a child, did you rebel at all? Did you cry if you didn't get your way? Or did you accept it, like a good girl?” Sara was shocked. What a totally random set of questions! She thought about it.
“I…I did as I was told. I accepted it. But I really don't…” Again the hand came up and silenced her.
“So you were brought up following orders. Being ordered around. You didn't rebel or try to get your own way. You just accepted people's wishes.” Sara nodded reluctantly. Ms Davies smiled. “You were born to be submissive, Sara. You were born to follow orders, to be forced to do things that you didn't want to do – you were born to be a little inferior slut. There are millions of people out there who need to be told what to do - who need to be dominated , but aren't. They aren't because they don't want to admit it. Now Sara, you should admit it. You need to be dominated. You need to feel the boot of someone on your ass. You need to be someone's little fucktoy. You need to be a whore, a tramp, a bitch. You need to be bossed about, because, simply put, Sara…you were born to be one. And I was born to be a Mistress. I disobeyed, I wanted people to do what I wanted. That's how I liked it. And you want people to tell you what to do. It's a perfect match, Sara. What do you say?”
Sara was stunned. This was it. She could either walk away, and not admit to what was driving her wild – or she could stay. Stay and fulfil her destiny as a whore. She slowly opened her mouth to speak.
“Yes Mistress. It is a perfect match.” She bit her lip as she said these words, and lowered her eyes. Ms Davies smiled weakly.
“Good whore. Now, the second thing I must address – I asked for skimpier, not less. You're wearing my grandmother's clothes, whore. Come with me to the bathroom. Let's see if we can't sort that problem out.” Ms Davies got up from her seat and beckoned Sara to follow. She walked, her eyes lowered, looking at the floor. She started to get wet again. She smiled. Ms Davies didn't seem that annoyed – perhaps being Ms Davies' bitch wouldn't be that demanding at all. Ms Davies walked into the ladies room, holding the door open for Sara. As soon as the door shut, the mood changed. Dramatically.
“Right. Let's set out some rules, slut – and see how many you've broken.” Ms Davies grabbed Sara's hair and threw her to the floor. Her eyes were glowing with fury – Sara whimpered. She was in for it now. “Number one. You shall always address me as Mistress. You didn't do that at the start of the meal, did you? Did you?!” Sara just shook her head meekly. “Number two. You will only speak when I give you permission. You certainly didn't do that – how dare you speak to me in such a fashion! A fucking whore like you? Number three – you will sit when I tell you to…you didn't do that…number four, you will come to the restaurant at the correct time…number five, you will wear the correct clothes to a meal…” The list went on, humiliating Sara more and more. Thankfully no-one came in to see her in this state – being berated by this woman! Sara started to cry as Ms Davies snarled out more broken rules.
“Oh, is my slut upset? Is she unhappy that she is being treated like the inferior whore that she is? Hrm? Is that it, bitch?” Sara turned away, unable to look her Mistress in the eye. Instantly she felt the sting of her Mistress' hand against her face. “Look at me when I am talking to you, bitch! Now…I think you're wearing a little bit too much tonight, slut. Especially when I told you to come without bra and panties. Take off the jumper. Now.” Sara lifted the jumper up over her head – she cried out as the cane smacked her stomach as soon as it was exposed. “Faster, slut! Take off your skirt too.” Sara looked at her as she placed her jumper on the floor. Surely she wouldn't degrade her here, in a public toilet? Again she felt the cane across her midriff and she instantly started to lower her skirt – and within a matter of moments, her blouse cast aside as well, she was wearing nothing but bra and panties. She went to cover herself up again – force of habit – and the cane snapped down across her arms. “Don't do that again, bitch. You're already on thin ice as it is. Don't let it get any thinner. Drop to your hands and knees and crawl to me.” Sara yet again felt totally degraded. How did she have such power over her? She felt so helpless now – so submissive, willing to submit to any request that this dominant, brooding woman wanted. She fell to the floor and crawled to her Mistress, her eyes lowered. She didn't want to risk getting Ms Davies angry again.
“Good whore. You're starting to learn your place. Very slowly mind. We'll have to do something about that later.” She dangled her heels in front of Sara, in an almost hypnotic fashion. “My shoes. They're looking very dirty, aren't they, girl?” All Sara could do was nod. She had promised herself that she wouldn't let Ms Davies dominate her again – but it felt so good! She loved being a bitch, she adored it – but at the same time…she was so confused. “Now then, slut, what can we do to clean my shoes?” Sara opened her mouth to speak, but found it was dry. She had lost all of her confidence – her confidence she had shown so flawlessly just minutes ago. She moved to get a cloth to clean her Mistress' shoes, but Ms Davies grabbed her hair, pulling her back, and causing a yelping noise. “No, slut! I was thinking of a different way. You have a tongue. Lick them.” Sara looked up at her Mistress, shocked. Lick her shoes – was she mad? She was repelled at this, and hesitated.
“Oh dear! It looks like you've decided not to obey me again, slut! Well then…” Instantly Ms Davies grabbed Sara's hair and pulled her closer to her shoe, forcing her mouth to take in the toe. “Suck it, bitch. Come on. Suck my shoe clean.” Sara started to choke – she couldn't believe it…she was half-naked in a restaurant bathroom being forced to lick the shoes of someone she met yesterday! She licked and sucked as Ms Davies laughed.
“Come on, bitch! You can do better than that, can't you? Take it all in!” She thrust the shoe into the back of her throat, choking Sara. Sara struggled for air as she tried to get the shoe out of her mouth. She could see her Mistress shrieking with laughter as she struggled to breathe. Her life was in Ms Davies' hands, and all she could do was laugh at her?! She prayed that soon this would be over – she felt so helpless as Ms Davies' foot played about in her mouth. The shoe, at last, was removed from her foot, leaving Sara on her hands and knees, breathing heavily as Ms Davies laughed at her and inspected her handy work. “Not a spot on it. Good work, whore. I should get you to clean all of my shoes.” Sara stared up at her, totally humiliated, coughing harshly. Just as she tried to regain her composure, a woman walked into the bathroom.
“Oh! I'm…erm…terribly sorry. I'll just go, shall I?” The woman seemed distressed at seeing a half-naked woman in front of her, on her knees. Ms Davies couldn't think why.
“No, please, my dear…stay! I can offer you a free shoe polish.” She smiled wickedly at Sara as she said this. “Sorry, dear, what is your name?” The woman, obviously taken aback, struggled for words.
“K-karen.”
“Excellent. Karen, this is my slut. She's supposed to do everything I say, but today has been particularly bad. I'm giving her punishment for her disobedience – she has to lick people's shoes. I was wondering – your shoes seem a little muddy. Would you like them cleaned?” Karen laughed.
“You're kidding, right? Is this a joke?” Ms Davies seemed slightly annoyed that she was taking her offer in this manner.
“Not a joke, Karen. Just place your foot in front of this little whore, and she'll lick them clean.” Karen hesitated, as this bizarre situation slowly started to dawn on her. She smiled and thrust her foot forward.
“Oh, what the hey. Please can you lick my shoes…” She looked over at Ms Davies, hoping to be prompted for Sara's name. Ms Davies looked down at the boot-cleaner and smiled.
“Oh, call her whatever you like, Karen. She doesn't deserve better. Isn't that right, slut?” Sara nodded slowly, hating the situation she was in. Sure, she loved being a whore, but this was ridiculous. “Also, Karen, be a sweetie – don't say “please” or “thank you”. She's just a little tramp. She can't appreciate that sort of thing. And order her to lick your shoes. She doesn't understand questions very well.” Sara glared up at Ms Davies – and then instantly regretted it, seeing the ice cold eyes staring back at her.
“Oh, alright. Lick my shoes…you…erm…” Karen struggled for words. She seemed a little bit drunk. “Lick my shoes you…whore!” She said this triumphantly, much to the delight of Ms Davies, and much to the distaste of the degraded Sara. She slowly moved forward and placed her tongue out to start licking Karen's shoes. Karen laughed as Sara groaned at tasting mud – where had this girl been? Her shoes were filthy! She continued licking, every once in a while stopping at the horrible taste – every time she did this, Ms Davies would shout out “Keep licking, bitch!” or “Get that tongue back on that shoe, you fucking piece of shit!” – she would usually laugh as Sara submitted and started to lick again – encouraging Karen to hiss drunken abuse at her. “Yeah, you slut! You little bitch! You worthless tramp!” Each insult made Sara feel more and more humiliated – more like a little slut. Again, like the night before, she began to wonder what was stopping her from getting up and walking out. Ms Davies and now, it seemed, Karen, had this power over her – they had this control over her. When she thought about it, she hated being called a bitch, or a whore – but at the time, she loved it. She loved being forced by these women to do exactly as they pleased – she almost enjoyed the taste of mud, because she was being controlled by these women. She couldn't explain it – she loved being called these things, but at the same time hated it.
Ms Davies put her hand out to stop her slut from licking any more. Karen looked down at her shoes and smiled. “Man, that's great! Real professional! Thanks, bitch!” She giggled as she walked out, leaving Sara and Ms Davies in total silence. After a couple of seconds, Sara looked up at Ms Davies and went for her clothes. Again the hand came out to stop her – this time to smack her on the ass.
“What do you think you're doing?” Sara couldn't speak – partly because she was terrified, and partly because she had used up all her saliva in licking Karen's shoes clean. “Answer me, bitch!”
“I…I was going to get my clothes, Mistress.” She croaked these words out, much to the amusement of Ms Davies.
“It's funny, girl. I don't remember ever telling you to put your clothes back on.” She started to smile wickedly again as Sara realised what she was saying.
“But…Mistress…I can't go out into that restaurant dressed like this!”
“I think you can. Plus, you seemed so fond of wearing a bra and panties – despite my expressed wishes – that I thought you wouldn't mind.” She laughed as she pulled her hair towards the door, forcing Sara to crawl with her. “Out we go, slut!” She walked out confidently, dragging Sara, half naked, to many gasps of shock. Women were outraged, men were aroused but pretended to be outraged – children saw just seconds before parents covered their eyes up. Ms Davies, as casually as normal, sat down in her chair, before looking down at Sara, who was on the floor, blushing.
“You may sit, slut.” Sara sheepishly sat down, wearing next to nothing and wishing that she had never come to the restaurant tonight but also, bizarrely, that Ms Davies asked her to do more degrading things. She had never been so aroused or embarrassed – and Ms Davies could tell. The evening continued as normal – Ms Davies told Sara what to eat and drink, and only allowed her to speak when she wanted. The rest of the restaurant, having gotten over their initial shock, either went about their business, or complained to the manager of the place. As the main course arrived, the manager walked over angrily and started shouting at Sara.
“How dare you come in here dressed in such disgusting and revealing clothes?! This is a family restaurant – we expect only decently dressed people! If I had known that you were planning to perform this striptease, I would have barred you from the start! Get out, you filthy tramp!” Sara sat stunned at this verbal tirade, and opened her mouth to speak – only to be interrupted by Ms Davies.
“I'm terribly sorry, we didn't know of the dress code before we came in. My slut is awfully sorry, and she'd like to make it up to you.” She smiled wickedly again, and beckoned the manager over. She leaned over and whispered something in his ear – making him smile.
“I'm sorry to have bothered you fine women. Please. Carry on with your meal.” Sara was totally and utterly confused, and went to ask what had just happened – but again was stopped by Ms Davies.
“Never mind about that, bitch. Just enjoy your food.” Ms Davies smiled, and looked down at Sara's breasts – her nipples were starting to harden. “Hrm, slut. It must be very cold in here.” She laughed as Sara blushed even more – at least she hadn't noticed her cunt yet – she was so wet that her panties were now basically transparent. She sighed and continued to eat.
Ms Davies paid the bill and looked over at Sara, who was now bright red as more people started to stare at her. “Come on, bitch. Let's go.” Sara went to walk out, but Ms Davies laughed cruelly. “Crawl, whore. Remember your status.” Sara dropped to her knees and crawled out – on the verge of tears as people grumbled and complained about her – she could hear them talking: every single one of them called her a two-bit prostitute, or a slapper, or a whore, or a tramp – she felt utterly degraded. But then, in the back of her mind – and in her heart – she felt this urge to obey and to be treated in this way. She followed Ms Davies out, and expected to get into the cab. Instead, Ms Davies led her around – behind the restaurant, to a dark alley. Sara opened her mouth to speak.
“Urm…Mistress? What's going on?” Her answer was a slap to the face.
“Did I give you permission to speak, you tramp?” Sara shook her head. She started to get worried. “OK, Sara. Take off your bra and panties.” More humiliation?! Naked, in public? Surely not! Again, a slap greeted her, this time producing a little bit of blood. Sara started to break down into tears as Ms Davies snarled to her. “Don't hesitate, you little bitch! Just do it!” Sobbing, Sara took off her bra and panties, and knelt, fully naked, in front of her Mistress. “Excellent, whore.”
“Mistress…what's happening?” Sara should have known not to speak there – Ms Davies grabbed her hair and pulled her face close to Sara's.
“Don't ask questions, girl! How many times do I have to tell you this?!” Again, a slap – this time on the ass – made Sara keep silent, but for the occasional sob. She was being broken again. “Ah ha, here's our man.” Ms Davies cracked a small smile, as the manager walked out of the restaurant and towards Sara and Ms Davies.
“Is she ready?” The manager leered at her, looking down at her.
“Of course. Well, apart from the handcuffs.” Ms Davies jumped down and handcuffed Sara's hands to her feet, meaning that she was stuck in this kneeling position. Sara started to panic. There was no way out.
“Good, good.” The manager slowly undid his flies and snarled at Sara. “Remember me letting you wear your trampish clothes? It comes at a cost, bitch!” He took out his cock – now fully erect – and pointed it into the face of Sara, who was now shrieking with fear. She was going to get raped by a man! This was it! She was going to be used and abused by someone she didn't know and didn't like! She started to scream, only for Ms Davies to slap her again.
“Shut up! This man was very kind for not throwing us out! You will accept what he wants! And what he wants…well…” Ms Davies smiled as the manager licked his lips. “What he wants is for you to open your mouth.” Sara looked up at her horrified. How could she do this? The manager grew impatient, and started to shout at Sara – she couldn't hear him, she was so immersed in fear. Ms Davies saw this, and knelt down to whisper in Sara's ear.
“Just remember my slut. What's your position? Who's inferior?” Sara, now crying, turned to her Mistress.
“M-me, Mistress.”
“And who is superior?”
“You, Mistress.”
“Whose orders must you obey fully?”
“Yours, Mistress…”
“Who have you submitted to totally?”
“…you, Mistress.”
“Good girl. Remember your place. Remember what you were born to be. A little bitch.” Sara started to moan – she was getting even wetter. She revelled in being called that now. “So…my whore. Submit. Do as I say. Open…your fucking…mouth!”
Instantly Sara opened her mouth. She couldn't resist her Mistress any longer – and instantly the manager thrust his cock into her mouth, throat-fucking her. She could feel it ramming the back of her throat, making her feel sick – but she knew she could do nothing. Even if she were uncuffed, even if she were ten times stronger than the manager and Ms Davies put together – she knew that Ms Davies had such a power over her. She could do nothing. And, in a way, she liked it that way. The man continued to brutally thrust his penis into her mouth – she tried to suck it as best she could, but found his actions so fast that she couldn't do anything. He continued to pump her throat, faster and faster, before screaming as he climaxed. He slowed down as he came – Sara could feel the hot cum on the back of her throat and choked.
“Swallow it, bitch. Drink it all up.” The manager laughed as he put his cock away and watched as Sara reluctantly swallowed. Ms Davies looked down at Sara, and patronisingly stroked her hair.
“Now what do we say to the nice man, bitch?”
“Thank you, Sir.” Sara lowered her eyes as she said this – she had no idea why. She just knew these people were superior, and that she probably shouldn't be looking at them. She let Ms Davies and the manager talk, before looking up at her Mistress as she came back and uncuffed her feet and hands. Ms Davies walked in front of her, and placed her foot in front of her mouth.
“Kiss it.” Sara had no choice – she reluctantly kissed it and knelt, totally naked, in front of Ms Davies. “Well then, slut. That was fun, wasn't it?” Sara nodded enthusiastically. She had never been more turned on. “Good, good. Tomorrow, I want you at my flat, by 7.30pm . Naked. Is that clear?” Sara looked down at herself – being naked wasn't anything new, she supposed. She nodded, and Ms Davies smiled. “Very good.” She threw Sara's bra and panties at her, and laughed again. “This is all you've got to walk home in, I'm afraid. I'm sure you'll manage, bitch.” Sara quickly got changed as Ms Davies walked away slowly, towards the cab. Just as she was getting in, she turned and called out to Sara.
“Oh, and don't be late. I can allow mistakes twice. Anymore, and you will be very, very sorry, whore. You hear?” Sara nodded again, still topless. Ms Davies chuckled as she got into the cab and drove away, leaving Sara again totally exposed. Sara started her long walk home in just her bra and panties, being as nonchalant as possible. She got odd looks from two women, and whistles from a gang of boys. Every humiliating thing that happened that night had just her more and more horny – she wanted to submit more and more. In fact, as she reached her house, five men across the street started to compliment her drunkenly on her womanly features – and then went on to ask how much for a blowjob. And, as Sara smiled to herself and considered turning around and whoring herself out, she knew she had made her transition from respectable woman to total tramp. And she couldn't have been happier.
It was 7.20pm , and Sara was running up the stairs towards Ms Davies' apartment as quickly as she could. She had had a terrible day at work, but knew that tardiness was unacceptable, no matter what the excuse. She smiled as she passed the familiar doors – this was the first time Ms Davies had invited Sara to her house first. Then again, this was only their third meeting at all – and already she was putty in Ms Davies' hands. Sara stood in front of the door, and was about to knock before she remembered her Mistress' words. Be naked – she had willingly agreed the night before, when she was nothing but a whore to the manager of a restaurant – she felt she had no choice, as a dirty little slut – she had to be naked. But, in the cold light of day (or late evening), she realised how embarrassing it would be to be fully naked in the middle of the hallway. She was already blushing, having been recognised by some of the men across the street as the slut at Dino's, where she was paraded about, in just a bra and panties. She sighed, knowing that embarrassment was nothing compared to what Ms Davies could do to her. She unbuttoned her blouse and took off her skirt reluctantly. Did she really need to be fully naked? She pondered again, remembering last night – remembering how she had been abused for wearing a bra and panties. She ripped them off in a flash – she wanted to avoid as much unnecessary punishment as possible. When Ms Davies was angry, it was best to be a good few rooms away. Preferably in another building. She went to knock the door, fully naked, before remembering her place – the floor. She shot to her knees, kneeling before the door – like a good little slut. She smiled to herself – last night, at the start, she had been unsure. She didn't know whether she wanted to be a whore or not – whether she was so inferior that she wanted Ms Davies to walk all over her as her bitch. Tonight was different. She knew her position. She was a tramp – she was below her Mistress all the way, as a dirty little fucktoy to be used by Ms Davies and anyone else she wanted. She proudly knocked on the door, and awaited her Mistress, eyes lowered like a good whore.
Sadly, instead of Ms Davies, a tall, beautiful black woman appeared at the door, and looked down at Sara with bemusement. “Can I help you at all?” Sara instantly jumped. Fuck! Wrong flat! She grabbed her clothes and started to put them on hurriedly.
“Oh, Jesus. I'm so sorry – I must have the wrong house – do you know where…erm…Ms Davies lives?”
“She lives here.” Sara was taken aback.
“Then…urm…who are you?”
“I'm Ms Scott, Ms Davies' friend. You must be Sara – she's told me all about you, my dear.” She looked at Sara and frowned. “Shouldn't you be naked and kneeling, Sara?” Sara looked at Ms Scott, stunned – she hesitated as she tried to get over the initial embarrassment of being naked in front of a complete stranger. Her hesitation was punished instantly, as a hard blow to the face brought Sara back to reality. Ms Scott's expression had changed from mildly annoyed to an ice cold stare. She didn't tolerate delays. “When I say something, you should do your very best to adhere to it. Ms Davies obviously hasn't taught you well enough.” Sara shot down to her knees and started to undress again – if Ms Scott told Ms Davies about her behaviour, she would most certainly feel her wrath once more. Within seconds, she was kneeling before Ms Scott's beautiful legs obediently, her eyes on the floor. Ms Scott smiled softly.
“You got there in the end, Sara. I must say how impressed I am at how you are so indifferent to being naked in public, my dear. That's the sign of a good slut – Ms Davies must have taught you something I suppose.” She opened the door and walked in, her perfect ass wiggling as she walked. Sara still didn't think of herself as a lesbian – she was just a slut really, to be used by man or woman – but she could appreciate Ms Scott as a very beautiful lady. She stayed on her knees, almost hypnotised by Ms Scott's body. Ms Scott turned and smiled at the small naked girl who knelt before her. She pointed to her feet and stared at Sara. “Come here, slut.” Sara instantly began to crawl into the flat, her eyes still lowered. Ms Scott seemed to be nicer than Ms Davies – she wouldn't get annoyed with you if you dared to look up at her, and she wouldn't get annoyed if you dared to not look at her. Often, with Ms Davies, Sara felt she couldn't win – that constantly she was expected to do things she couldn't do. Ms Scott wasn't like that. She looked down at Sara and picked up a crop from the floor, smiling as Sara assumed her position below her.
“Ms Davies will join us in a couple of moments – she is just out getting some…things for tonight. In the meantime, I reckon you should show me what a good little slut you are. Spread your legs for me, whore.” Sara quickly opened her legs, revealing her pussy which was slowly getting wet. She bit her lip as this total stranger walked behind her and started to examine Sara, every so often grabbing a piece of her flesh and murmuring to herself. She smiled as she knelt before Sara, and started to stroke her face softly.
“Good girl. You know your place – you are lucky in that sense. I've met so many submissives who haven't known it – in the end, I had to show them the way. Sometimes by force. I remember this one girl – about your height, British Indian – who had just moved to the States. She wasn't a lesbian, she wasn't into BDSM, she didn't know I was until one day, after work. We were sitting about, chatting, in a bar. We were getting drunker and drunker – I was getting more dominant, and she was slowly starting to get more submissive. I looked her in the eye and told her about my…practices, as it were. She started to get scared – looking for a way out. They're all scared the first time – I'm sure even you were, little whore. She got up to leave, afraid of what might happen. I grabbed her by the arm, pulled her close to me, and slapped her hard in the face – she burst into tears and screamed for me to let go of her. She should have known better – if anything that turns me on more.” Sara noticed Ms Scott biting her lip now, remembering this episode.
“Fortunately for me, the barman is a friend of mine, and it wasn't a very busy night. The barman's usually turned on by it anyway – he turns a blind eye to it. Sometimes he asks to use the people I capture – as payment for his silence. I usually heartily accept – but, tonight, he wasn't all that interested. I'm not sure why, Nadia was a very beautiful girl and she had a classical English accent – one which made the whole damsel-in-distress scenario more appealing. So she was wriggling about as I reached about for a cloth I had prepared earlier – she tried to spit in my face, impolite bitch. I couldn't have that – I grabbed the cloth and pressed against her mouth as she struggled – within seconds she was unconscious – dead to the world. I moved quickly, stuffing her into the boot of my car – the journey wasn't that long, so there was no chance of the chloroform wearing off before it was over. I took her up to my apartment, stripped her naked and tied her to the bed – gagging her with her own panties – a nice touch, if I do say so myself. Of course, when she woke at first, she was pretty dang angry – understandably. But people go through phases when they are met with a situation like this – after a bit, she knew who held the power – she could tell by the red marks on her breasts and her pussy. I whipped her, beat her, humiliated her, spanked her, slapped her, raped her – I made her my bitch, I made her understand that I was the goddess, and she was but a mortal – nothing. She begged, she screamed, she cried – all in vain, of course. And then, when I had had my fill, I untied her and threw her naked into the hallway. Now, I know what you're thinking, Sara. You're thinking that this woman could have run to the police, she could have ratted me out, and I could be serving time in jail for rape, instead of standing in front of you today. But she didn't. I knew she wouldn't – I can tell when women want to be dominated. There are some who want to be chained up, tied up – they just don't know it. You, for one – and, of course, Nadia. It was only a matter of time before she crawled to my door, knocked on it and asked, very submissively, if she could come in. In fact, it was just twenty minutes later. She was still naked, and was still crying. She knelt there, on my doorstep, and asked me if she could stay. I laughed, pulled her in by the hair, and tied her up again. The next day, she quit her job, and became my personal fucktoy. She hasn't left the apartment since.”
Sara knelt there, amazed at the story. How…how could that girl submit so willingly? She looked down at herself. Actually, she wasn't that amazed. If anything, it was amazing that she wasn't Ms Davies live-in slave by now. She was pretty much everything else. No! Shit! She couldn't afford to think like that! She had only just accepted the idea of being a casual slut – she wasn't quite ready to accept that she was capable of being a live-in slave. She was fine about submitting. Commitment was a different matter. She didn't want to leave her job, for one. And there were so many other matters to consider…she felt a sharp slap on her ass and stopped daydreaming. Apparently, Ms Scott had started talking again, and Sara had not heard a word of it. Ms Scott stood over her and snarled. “I hate having to repeat myself. Don't make me do that again.” She walked over to the counter and picked up a cigarette, lighting it.
“As I was saying, there are other situations. There are other times when my judgement is wrong, sadly. Five years ago, I had been tracking this guy called Eric for a month. He seemed very submissive – he couldn't bear to look me in the eye at work, he called me “Ma'am” when I hadn't asked him to – he was, in short, the perfect male slut that I had been looking for. So one night, after drinks, we were walking home. I suddenly pin him up against a wall and tell the guy to lick my shoes. He doesn't know how to react, so I grab him by the hair, throw him to the floor and tell him to lick. He's still not doing anything, so I take out my gun – it wasn't loaded, I just feel it helps people to hurry up when they aren't doing what I want – and point it at his head, telling him to start licking. He freaks – he breaks into tears and starts to grab my legs, begging me not to shoot. Instantly, I knew I had made a mistake. This guy was just terrified – he didn't want to submit to me at all. Sometimes it's hard to tell.” Ms Scott took another drag on her cigarette and looked out of the window. “But he had all he wanted to take me to court – sexual assault, threatening use of a firearm – so letting him go would be risky. We couldn't have my secret being out, could we, Sara? So…I drove him, at gunpoint, to a cliff-top. People can lose their footing up there…it's such a shame.” Sara's eyes widened as she realised what Ms Scott meant. “He didn't want to lick my boots in the end. I'm sure he's regretting that now: it was quite a fall. They never did find the body – if they had they would have noticed that he was naked, and his asshole was considerably wider than average.” Sara started to sweat. Suddenly Ms Davies seemed like a much safer option – as far as Sara knew, she had never killed someone. Sara felt very subconscious – she was naked, in the hands of a killer. She felt like screaming out – but hell, if she did, who knows what Ms Scott would do to her? She could easily lose her footing at the top of a cliff…
“Oh, what's wrong, my dear? You've gone all pale! We'll soon sort that out, get some colour back into those cheeks…well…one pair of cheeks at least.” Sara nodded, unsure how to react to Ms Scott's words now. “You know, I love white bitches. I've tried to dominate black girls – I really have – but it never feels right. I feel as though they should be on their feet with me, laughing at some little white bitch. Nadia's not white, of course – lovely Indian skin, which goes a bright purple colour when I beat her enough. Still, I envy Ms Davies. Having a little white whore to play with is a dream – I can have more than one bitch though, I suppose. There are plenty of Caucasian girls out there who like to be chained up and used – I guess I'll find one some day. I was rather hoping Eric would be my bitch. Sadly, it was not to be. Oh well. C'est la vie, and all that shit. I can't complain, really, can I? I've got a little tramp knelt before me, a bitch who knows that I am better than her in every way – that I am superior, as Ms Davies would say. My life…is good, I suppose. Keep your legs spread, Sara.” She quickly swatted Sara's thighs, causing Sara to cry out and spread her legs out further, so that her cunt was exposed to Ms Scott. Ms Scott smiled weakly. “My my. Someone's enthusiastic. But we'll get to that later, Sara. Right now I want to catch up on the day's events.” With that, Ms Scott walked over to the television and turned it on, before sitting down on the sofa, resting her feet on Sara as if she were some kind of piece of furniture. Ms Scott pretended as if Sara didn't exist as a person whilst she watched the TV, apart from when Sara started to tire, and her back began to cave in from the pressure of Ms Scott's legs. Then she would grab her crop and whip Sara's ass whilst muttering insults at her, along the lines of “No good whore…” or “Ms Davies will not be pleased…” The latter scared Sara the most. As frightening as Ms Scott was, Ms Davies still gave Sara the chills. She would shoot up back to her original position as quickly as possible when she felt the crop against her backside – which, as it was tiring, was often. Finally, after Ms Scott got bored of the news and turned to MTV, Ms Davies walked through the door, holding several bags.
“I'm back! Is my whore here yet? Or is she late as always?” She turned and looked at Ms Scott, who was now digging her heels into Sara's back and laughing at the pained expression on the poor girl's face. “Oh. She is here. Glad to see you've made yourself comfortable with her, Alice.” Ms Davies smiled at her good friend, who had acknowledged her arrival with a wave and another jab into Sara's ribs. She wasn't into the habit of calling mistresses by their domme name – she felt it put her on the same level as the subs – and that, considering Alice 's dominant nature, was the worst thing she could do. She remembered a couple of years ago, when she had first met Alice – neither had revealed their lifestyle to each other until they had known each other for a month. Alice had gotten the wrong end of the stick, sadly: she had pushed Ms Davies to the floor and told her to worship the ground she walked on. In a couple of seconds, Alice had a black eye, and soon realised that Ms Davies was perhaps not the correct person to try to dominate. After an angry exchange, the two got talking, and discovered their similarities – they ended the night firm friends, after seducing two hapless men into submission – they revelled in their dominance, using the men as whores and slaves, before dumping them by the side of the road, tied up and with the words “Cum Dump” on their foreheads. It was a good night indeed, and since then, Ms Davies had stayed excellent friends with Alice . It was rare in this city to find a person who used people as she did.
“Well, it took some work, Jenny, but I finally was able to make her submit.” Ms Scott licked her lips, looking down at Sara as she said this. She knew that if Sara had dared disobey her, Ms Davies would be furious. Sara quivered as the two mistresses talked.
“What? What did the bitch do wrong?” Ms Davies looked down at Sara with her usual contempt, thinking of all the punishments she could administer with every wrong foot Sara had made.
“Well, for one thing, she was not naked and kneeling when I answered the door.” Sara opened her mouth in protest – this, strictly speaking, was not true. She had been kneeling naked – she had just got up and dressed again as soon as she saw Ms Scott. Instantly the hand came down – one from Ms Scott on the face, the other from Ms Davies on the ass – and instantly Sara shut up. One mistress was bad enough – she didn't want any more trouble.
“Please, continue, Alice . So my whore was being disobedient – no surprise there. Had to choke the bitch yesterday when she had a tantrum. She forgot her place – let's hope it's not a recurring habit. Anything else I should know about?” Ms Scott smiled and produced a list of fantastic accusations – ranging from speaking out of turn, to attempting to escape, to even trying to attack Ms Scott. Sara listened to the list with horror – none of it was correct, of course – the worst crime she could think of was not listening to Ms Scott, or sagging as a piece of furniture. Ms Davies tutted (rather insincerely) at each of the accusations, until Ms Scott accused Sara of calling Ms Davies a “bitch”. At this, Ms Davies glowered at Sara, who couldn't take it anymore. She knelt up onto her knees and opened her mouth to speak.
“Mistress, please! I would never call my Mistress a bitch – I did not do any of those things!” She received a hard slap from Ms Davies and a cold stare.
“Are you calling Ms Scott a liar?” Sara bit her lip. How could she phrase this delicately?
“Yes.” Ms Davies snarled at Sara, and pulled her face close to her mouth by yanking her hair harshly.
“But, bitch, correct me if I am wrong – which is rare indeed – isn't Ms Scott superior to you? Is that true?” Sara could not disagree with this – she was below Ms Scott – she was a Mistress, and Sara was…well, nothing. She nodded her head reluctantly.
“So why should I believe you, a common tramp, over my dear friend Ms Scott? Why should I do that, slut?” Sara was lost for words, and was suddenly confused. Did she have to accept lies as the truth from people who were superior to her? If someone better than her said it, did it suddenly become the truth? As Sara tried to sort out the problem in her mind, Ms Davies got out her cane and started to beat Sara. “I want an answer, bitch! Why…” Thwack. “…should…” Thwack. “…I…” Thwack. “…do…” Thwack. “…that?!” Thwack thwack thwack. Sara was in tears, her ass red.
“I don't know, Mistress.” She spluttered out the words through her tears, much to the delight of Ms Davies, who put the cane down and looked at her slut.
“No answer. We'll punish you later for your multiple cases of insolence, whore – first, though, I'm hungry. I got us some take away, from the Chinese restaurant.” Sara stopped sobbing. She loved Chinese food, and hadn't eaten all day. She couldn't – she was too nervous about seeing Ms Davies. She licked her lips as Ms Davies and Ms Scott walked to the kitchen to get the food – she couldn't wait. However, when they returned with just enough food for two people, Sara started to worry again. They sat down, ignoring Sara, and chatted about their lives – Ms Scott talking about Nadia, and how she “raped” her five times yesterday (Ms Scott preferred to think of every sexual encounter with a slave as rape – made it seem as if the slave wasn't enjoying it, and that she was the only one getting any pleasure from the experience. Often she would make sure she would catch Nadia at her least turned on, to make this fact ring true – she loved the sounds of pain and screams for mercy as the dildo went in – something which could never be simulated), and Ms Davies talking casually about her exploits with Sara – about satisfying the manager at Dino's, and about cleaning a stranger's shoes in the toilet. Sara blushed as Ms Davies explained what happened – often, Ms Scott would call Sara a dirty whore under her breath after every story Ms Davies told. Sara was still waiting for her food when Ms Davies and Ms Scott were eating their fortune cookies – they continued to ignore her, until the very end. Ms Davies suddenly feigned surprise as she looked down from her seat to see Sara.
“Oh my! We seem to have forgotten someone, Alice! There's a hungry little bitch here wanting some food! What shall we do?” They both pretended to ponder over this difficult conundrum, before Ms Davies got up and walked to the kitchen. “I have just the thing!” Finally, Sara thought. Some food. She was not impressed with what she got.
Ms Davies came back in, holding a tin of dog food and a dog's bowl, with the name “Sara” engraved. Sara groaned – surely they wouldn't do this to her? Ms Davies grinned evilly as she placed the bowl in front of her, opened up the tin and dumped its contents into the bowl. “Dinner is served.” She giggled at her joke, and then stepped back to see Sara's reaction – of utter disgust. She couldn't eat that! It wasn't good for her! It had big lumps of jelly and meat – and the stench was positively revolting! Ms Davies looked at her, unimpressed. “Well, you are a bitch, so a dog's dinner you shall have! I thought it was a rather clever pun, whore. Didn't you?” Sara nodded meekly. “Go on, tuck in. You must be starving.” Sara held her breath, and went to pick up a piece of the dog food. Instantly she received a harsh kick up the backside.
“Oi! You're a bitch, so eat like one! Mouth first! No hands!” Sara shuddered, and, sobbing with humiliation, licked a bit of the dog food. Ms Davies was still not happy. “Oh, come on! Put some effort into it, slut! Eat!” With that, she put her foot on the back of Sara's head and pushed her head into the food, holding her face down in the dog food for about a minute. Ms Scott was shrieking with laughter as Sara begged for mercy. Eventually Ms Davies took her food off Sara's head, and bent down to speak to the humiliated girl. “Finish it all. Or you'll be in even more trouble.” With that, Sara started to wolf down this muck, afraid of what Ms Davies would do – much to the delight of both of the mistresses, who were laughing themselves silly at this pathetic bitch. Ms Davies wiped away a tear as Sara sobbed over her situation – at the start of the week, she was just an ordinary girl…now this. Her tears fell into her food slowly – she felt she couldn't be degraded more. How wrong she was…
After the bowl had been licked clean, Ms Davies dragged Sara by the hair into the living room, where Ms Scott was sitting by the television, flicking through the channels. Sara looked confused. Was this her punishment? TV? Her heart sank as Ms Davies got out a smallish rack from behind the couch, and propped it against the wall. She ordered Sara to crawl to her, and then pulled her up by the hair – causing her to shriek out and causing Ms Davies to angrily slap her breasts. Sara stood nervously as Ms Davies secured her arms to the rack, and then her legs. She was utterly helpless – just as Ms Davies wanted her. Now that she was restrained, Ms Davies began to explain the rules.
“OK, slut. We're going to play a game. Have you ever played drinking games, whore?” Sara nodded her head. She was confused, but still didn't like the sound of this. “OK, this is kind of like one of those games. We're going to watch a couple episodes of Friends , whore.” Sara groaned again. The one thing worse than being chained to a rack in the same room as a sadist and an apparent killer was sitting through an hour of that drivel. “But we're going to have fun with it, bitch. Every time Chandler is sarcastic, I'm going to put a breast clamp on you. If he does it more than twice, I'm going to pull them off and start again. Every time Phoebe plays the guitar, I'm going to cane your stomach ten times. Every time Joey does something stupid, I'm going to pinch your nipples. Every time Ross does something nerdy, I'm going to spit in your mouth. Every time Monica says something to do with cleaning, I'm going burn you with Ms Scott's cigarette. Every time the audience laugh at Rachel, I'm going to bite you on the tits. And if one of them kisses…I'm going to take this dildo…” She picked up a dildo, and started to line it with Tabasco sauce, “…and I'm going to ram it up your ass.” Sara stared, wide eyed at Ms Davies. This was going to be hell – her body was in the hands of six actors and script-writers. She stared at the television nervously as the episode started up, every so often looking at Ms Davies, who was smiling at Sara wickedly. Just a couple of seconds went by before Phoebe picked up her guitar and started to play – much to the horror of Sara, who started to scream out as Ms Davies caned her bare stomach ten times. Sara lowered her head in anguish after Ms Davies had finished – before Ms Davies pulled up her head by her hair and stared at her.
“I forgot to mention – after every action, you will thank me. Understood?” Sara nodded reluctantly, but then started to squirm again as Ms Davies grabbed her head and ordered Sara to open her mouth – Ross had just said something nerdy about dinosaurs. Sara wept as Ms Davies spat into her mouth, continuing her degradation.
“Thank you Ms Davies.”
“You're welcome, whore.” She flashed a smile, and the torment continued. Sara moaned as Rachel made a joke – Ms Davies smiled as she lowered her head to Sara's breasts, opened her mouth and then closed in on her tits, causing Sara to squeal out.
“Thank you Ms Davies.” Sara had barely enough time before Chandler said something sarcastic – suddenly a breast clamp dug into her tender flesh, causing her to scream out – Ms Scott was loving it. She tried to thank Ms Davies, but before she could, Joey had done something moronic – and she felt her nipples – already in a tight spot as her breasts had been clamped – being tugged and pulled mercilessly. She started to sob her thank yous, as Ms Davies struggled to keep up.
“Hrm, this is harder than it looks. Alice , could you give me a hand?” Ms Scott jumped at the chance, and walked over to Sara, who was now crying with pain – she had a breast clamp on one of her tits, her nipples were sore and red, welts were growing on her stomach – she was crying uncontrollably. The hits continued to ring out – Ross said something, then Joey, then Chandler – instantly Sara felt another breast clamp on her other breast by Ms Davies, and was ordered to open her mouth by Ms Scott as she tugged her nipples. All the while, Sara was thanking these evil women as they laughed at her pain. Monica suddenly blurted out things about cleaning, and rapidly Sara felt a burning pain like no other as Ms Scott casually pressed her lighted cigarette against Sara's flesh several times. Sara tits were bitten again, her stomach was beaten – the punishments blurred into one as she moaned out her thanks to her mistresses. She began to go dizzy with pain – all these horrible things happening to her at once – she screamed out, begging for them to stop now.
Then, suddenly…nothing. Both Ms Davies and Ms Scott stopped, looking at Sara, who was battered and bruised like she had just been in a war. Her breasts were bleeding, her nipples were raw, her stomach was bloody, and her legs were covered in cigarette burns. She swallowed the last of Ms Davies' spit, and looked at her, wondering why they had stopped.
“Fucking commercials.” Ms Davies sighed, and flicked Sara's breast, causing her to scream out. Sara's face was red with tears – she looked at Ms Davies, begging her to let her down, to stop this horrible pain. Ms Davies grinned. “We've still got forty-five minutes to go!” Sara moaned in anguish, her body unable to take anymore of this. Ms Scott looked at Ms Davies, and smiled wickedly.
“Perhaps we should change the rules a bit. If someone kisses, instead of getting that dildo up your ass, we will untie you, stop playing this game and take you to the bedroom. How does that sound?” Sara jumped at the chance. She nodded happily – anything to stop this horrible experience. The show began again, and the torture continued – the breast clamps were yanked off after another sarcastic comment from Chandler – Sara's stomach got redder as Phoebe played the guitar – Ms Scott even started to cigarette-burn Sara's face after Monica made more cleaning comments. Sara continued to thank them, until, at long last, two of the characters kissed. Sara screamed out in joy, and Ms Davies and Ms Scott reluctantly untied her, threw her to the floor, and dragged her to the bedroom. Sara smiled happily…until she saw what they had in store for her here.
Ms Davies and Ms Scott had both put on huge strap-ons, and were standing before this poor girl with huge grins on their faces. “Open up wide, bitch. Ms Scott will take your mouth, and I will take your rear. And we hope you like it hot, whore. We've put some extra hot sauce on these strap-ons, just for you.” Sara started to whimper, and shook her head as Ms Scott tried to put her strap-on into her mouth.
“Oh, dear, slut. Why do you choose to be disobedient at the worst times?” Ms Scott smacked down on Sara's back, causing her mouth to open, allowing her to force in the huge plastic penis. Sara choked on it – it was massive, and it was burning her mouth. She had no choice but to accept it though – Ms Scott was thrusting as hard as she could, raping her mouth. At the other end, Ms Davies had spread Sara's ass cheeks, and was about to thrust her “cock” into Sara's wriggling, struggling ass, before she noticed how white Sara's back was.
“Tut tut, slut! We can't have you having a red stomach and a white back! What would people think! Don't worry, Mistress is here to sort it out for you!” She picked up her crop and started to whip Sara's back, making her scream into Ms Scott's penis. She wasn't expecting that – it was pure agony! She started to cry again – being spit-roasted by two women after being essentially beaten up and tortured by them was not what she had in mind. She was in hell – her mouth was on fire and…as Ms Davies thrust her cock into her ass, now her ass was as well. She started to wriggle and squirm even more, before she felt the smack of the crop again on her back. Tears rolled down her face – she couldn't win. It was horrible.
“Look at me, slut! Look at me!” Ms Scott ordered Sara – her big, brown eyes looked down on Sara. Sara noticed for the first time the same anger that was in her eyes – it was just like Ms Davies – very determined. It automatically made you feel inferior – which was what you were, Sara assumed, if you were in Sara's position. Her brown hair was flowing down past her shoulders, and her breasts, held up now by her latex corset, jiggled with her thrusting motion. “Look at your goddess, whore! Look at your superior, you white cunt!” She laughed at Sara again, before finally climaxing – she shuddered to a halt, just as Ms Davies was cumming as well. Sara felt the two pull the cocks out, and collapsed to the floor, exhausted. Ms Davies and Ms Scott fell onto the bed, also extremely tired. Ms Scott got out her cigarette again and took a drag on it. “We must have you two over to see my slut. I had a really great time, Jenny.”
“Think nothing of it. Sluts are there to be used, after all.” The two laughed at the expense of Sara, who was lying on the floor, leaking out all sorts of fluids and writhing about in pain. At long last, she got back on all fours and raised her hand weakly.
“Yes, what is it, bitch?” Ms Davies had obviously lost her patience with her.
“Mistress, I was wondering if I may leave now. It is late.” Ms Davies laughed.
“Oh, my, slut! What makes you think you get to choose if you leave or not? I'll be the judge of that, and I say you must stay.” Sara's face fell.
“But…where will I sleep?” Ms Davies stared at Sara, got up, and dragged her back to the living room. She threw her onto the rack, securing her arms and legs in nice and tight.
“Here seems like a good enough place, whore. And, just to make sure you don't snore during the night…” She produced a ball gag and stuffed it in Sara's protesting mouth. “…there we are! See you in the morning, slut! Don't let the bed bugs bite!” Ms Davies giggled as she walked away, turning out the light and leaving Sara, tired, beaten and sobbing, to wonder whether this slut lark was such a good thing after all.
Her mouth was aching. It had been all night
– that big ball gag had ensured that. It had been a restless night for Sara,
being chained to the rack like that – she couldn’t get comfortable. She
wouldn’t have been able to get comfortable even if she had been at home in her
usual bed. Her body was cut and bruised, her eyes wet from tears and her head
was pounding after a night of pain and anguish at the hands of two Mistresses.
She couldn’t sleep, and instead watched the clock on Ms Davies’ wall tick as
she slipped in and out of consciousness. At about
“Oh, goodness, slut. You spent the whole night out here, didn’t you?” Sara nodded her head, her eyes half angry, half pleading. She had half a mind to lunge at Ms Davies as soon as she freed her. Ms Davies walked up to her, smiling as she brushed up against Sara’s breast. She started to massage it, laughing as Sara moaned. “Still tender from last night, bitch?” Sara nodded again. “Would you like me to stop and unchain you?” An enthusiastic nod. “Too bad. Now, what day is it today?” Ms Davies walked over to a calendar in the kitchen. Sara struggled against her bonds as Ms Davies searched down the list for the date. “Ah, it’s the 30th. Saturday. No work for you today, whore! You must be so happy!” Ms Davies flashed a grin at Sara, who was now just thinking about her freedom. She wanted to go home, have a shower and sleep. Properly, not in this way. She felt like being a human for once. Ms Davies walked back over to Sara and sighed, brushing her hair. “Of course…if I had it my way…every day would be a Saturday for you. Every day, I’d come home from work, and there you’d be, chained up like this…my little whore. Of course, I can’t really ask that of you…you’d have to be willing, I suppose.” She walked over to Sara’s hands and placed her hand over the cuffs, pressing the release button. “You’d have to be willing to stay…” Sara’s arms were released, automatically they dropped to the floor, exhausted. “You’d have to be willing to be here forever…” She uncuffed Sara’s feet, and the poor naked girl fell to the floor in a drained mess. Ms Davies grabbed Sara’s face and looked her deeply in the eyes. “You’d have to be willing to be my slave.” She dropped Sara’s face and walked towards the door. “I’m going out for an hour. I hope you’ll still be here.” With that, she closed the door, leaving Sara alone in her flat.
Ms Davies had made things pretty clear. She was free to leave if she wished – the door was open – hell, if she really wanted to, she could probably loot her house. But at the same time, if she stayed…she would be submitting herself for the long term. Until she said, and only until she said. Sara contemplated this. Being a slut was one thing – a slave another. She looked down at her scarred body and thought of all the pain she had suffered. Was it really that much of a turn on? Every time she had been whipped, been spat at, she had felt a little bit of her dignity go. But there was something so arousing about that – she was so confused. She lied on the floor, thinking about last night. Her cunt slowly started to get wet again. She smiled wickedly – would Ms Davies want her to cum in her apartment without her permission? Probably not. Still, she was out for an hour. Perhaps a quick orgasm, then she’d get down to making this decision. She thought of Ms Davies’ voice, scolding her, insulting her, laughing at her and started to rub.
Ms Davies walked back from the shops, feeling slightly anxious. She was quite hopeful that Sara would still be in her apartment, showing that she did want to be her slave. Still, she could never tell. The most submissive can get cold feet and bottle it. She placed the key in the lock and turned, praying that a kneeling Sara would greet her. Instead, a naked, sleeping Sara with two fingers stuck in her pussy met her, much to her surprise. Well…at least she was here. Still, this would not do.
“Slut!” Sara woke with a start and went to cover herself. Ms Davies grabbed an umbrella and hit her with it. “How dare you touch yourself without my permission? How dare you even cover yourself up without my permission?” She hit Sara again, furious yet also incredibly aroused. Sara, still groggy from sleep, crawled towards the door, unsure of what to do. Ms Davies struck down on her exposed ass and grabbed her hair. “You’re coming with me, slut. I’m going to teach you some manners.” She pulled Sara to a chair, grabbed some rope and tied her to it – twisting her nipples for fun as she bound her to the chair. Sara yelped out, before feeling a hard slap against her cheek and a ball-gag – the same as the one last night – being thrust into her mouth. She was at Ms Davies’ mercy once more.
Ms Davies walked about the chair, smiling as she examined her captive. She stroked her face slowly and looked into Sara’s eyes, which were now lowered to the floor. “My little whore, this simply will not do. I think you deserve to be punished for your disgusting display.” She grabbed Sara’s hair and smacked her bare breasts several times, to the annoyance of Sara, who was screaming into her gag. Suddenly, Ms Davies stopped, and whispered into Sara’s ear. “Do you want to be my little slave girl, Sara? Do you want to be tied up here all day for me to use whenever I want?” She stuck her tongue into Sara’s ear, who was squirming uncomfortably. She had no idea what to say. Did she really want to be her slave? She looked up at Ms Davies, who was slowly getting angrier. “Answer me, slut!” Sara watched her, in all her beauty, and knew what the answer was. Ms Davies moved like a goddess, like someone who was superior – and Sara was a little whore, tied to a chair. She had no choice really. She nodded her head, and with that, Ms Davies gave a small whoop of joy. She untied Sara, and stood before her.
“I am glad you have chosen correctly, Sara. However, there is a condition. It is a little test I give to each of my slave candidates before I decide whether or not they can become my little slave whores, and it is one which you must be subjected to now. Name the last boyfriend you dumped.” Sara was taken aback by this order, which seemed very much out of the blue. She hesitated, and received a sharp blow of the cane on her ass. “Come on, slut! Who was it?”
“H-his name was Alex, and he lives upstate. I dumped him to come up to the big city. We kinda left on bad terms, Mistress.” Ms Davies smiled and looked down at this helpless and cowering girl before her.
“Well, come on, slut. We’re going on a roadtrip.”
Alex sighed and looked out over the countryside. He stubbed out his cigarette and moved inside, as the cold wind started to get to him. He’d just been on a date with another woman – someone he would probably never call again. He flopped onto the sofa and contemplating lighting up again. He hadn’t been able to hold down a girlfriend since Sara had left him, something which confused him. He hadn’t loved Sara, and yet he found it difficult to connect with anyone like he had done with her. He rolled over, and turned on the television. Yet another lonely night in, with nothing but soft porn and reruns on the box. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Alex looked down at his watch – it was past 10.30, well beyond the decent hour of calling. He stumbled to the door, slightly clumsily – slightly disconcerted that someone could be here so late. He opened up the door, and, to his amazement, saw his ex-girlfriend, Sara, kneeling and naked before him.
“Sara! What the fuck?” He hadn’t seen her in ages, and knew things may have changed, but this certainly wasn’t what he was expecting. “Are you OK? What…what are you doing here?” Sara didn’t answer, and just continued looking at the floor. Alex leaned forward, to see that her wrists had been tied behind her back. He stepped back in shock. “Jesus, who did this to you?” Still no reply. “Look, come inside and I can get you some clothes and untie you or something -”
“No, Master.” Alex looked at Sara, in astonishment.
“I’m sorry…what?”
“I said, ‘no, Master’, Master.” Alex still couldn’t believe it.
“Look, has someone put you up to this? Your new boyfriend?” Sara looked at the floor, not saying anything, instead giving him a telephone number. “What’s this?” Sara didn’t move. Sighing, Alex looked at the number, then back at Sara. “So…what? Should I call this?” Sara shrugged.
“As you wish, Master.” That “Master” crap was really getting to Alex. What the fuck was she talking about? How dare she come back here after all this time and just show up naked on his doorstep, calling him her “Master”? What was this number all about? He walked away, before realising that Sara was still naked outside, waiting. He sighed again. He was really far too tired to be worrying about something as strange as this. He shut the door on Sara and wandered over to the phone. Time to get to the bottom of this.
Almost instantly after dialling the number, a woman picked up, and purred into the phone. “Well, well. I see you got my little present, Alex.”
“Sorry, what? Who the fuck are you, and why’s Sara outside, naked and tied up?”
“Oh, you call that ‘tied up’? Christ, if you’d seen what I’ve seen, Alex…”
Alex wondered at this comment. Something strange was going on, that was the only thing he was sure of. Also, how did this woman know his name? Totally confused, Alex tried to regain composure. “Look, stop avoiding the question. How do you know Sara? What’s going on?”
“Well, I hate to keep people in the dark, Alex. Unlike Sara – remember how she told you that she was leaving for the city two days before she did? Remember how painful that was, Alex? Remember all of those things you planned to do to her in revenge?” Alex was really frightened now. How did this woman know all these things? “Well…consider this your chance. Your one night to do what the hell you want with that little lying slut.” Alex’s eyes widened. What the hell he wanted? Christ. He paused for a while, thinking of all he could do – tie her up, rape her, face fuck her…all he had planned the day she broke his heart. “Alex? Hello? You still there?”
“Yep! Yep! Still here!” Alex’s voice was less cautious now, but still slightly wary of this strange woman. “So…why? Why are you giving me this…chance?”
“I’m a nice person, Alex. Well, not to Sara. But she’s not really a person. She’s a little whore, a little slut, eh Alex?” Alex smiled nervously.
“Heh, yeah…I guess.”
“Well, in a couple of days, she’ll be more than that, Alex. She’ll be a slave. To me. My little plaything to do what the hell I want with – completely.” Alex was taken aback – even though this wasn’t his average night, he hadn’t really expected Sara to be a lesbian. Well, he hadn’t expected her to be tied up and naked before him, either. “This is her final test. One night with you, and then she can be my slave forever.”
“Oh.” He really had nothing to say to that, because really, he’d never thought a situation like this would come up. “So…I can do anything to her?”
“As long as it’s not fatal.”
He thought for a minute. “Is this legal?”
“Look, this is all consensual. Sara wants this. Well…not wants, strictly speaking. She wants me to be happy, and this makes me happy. Therefore she wants this. If she goes running to the police or something, I’ll could just track her down and make her my forced slaves. They’re sometimes more fun…well, I’ve kept you here long enough, Alex. Go give her the most torturous night of her life. And pinch her nipples a lot. She really hates that.” With that, the phone went dead, and Alex looked out at the doorway, dumbfounded. Anything he wanted…he closed his eyes and imagined it. Sara, begging for mercy, he, laughing at her helplessness…he smiled and went to the door.
“Hello, Sara.” His words were cold, and he could see that Sara could tell he had accepted her Mistress’ conditions, and would now have her at her mercy. He smiled cruelly and grabbed her by the hair, dragging her inside.
“So, Sara. You didn’t tell me you were going to the city to become a lesbian slaveslut for some bitch, did you?” Alex laughed at the naked helpless girl in his front hall, who was now fighting back the tears. Those tears will be flowing by the end of the night. “Head up, slut. I want to see those breasts again.” Sara grudgingly lifted her head, allowing Alex to see, for the first time in over a year, her supple breasts. He gorged on them with his eyes, before slowly reaching to touch them. “Do you remember I said that as long as we were together, I wouldn’t let anyone harm your beautiful body?” Sara nodded, knowing what was coming next. “Well…we’re not together anymore, are we?” She nodded. “And whose fault is that, slut?” Sara stayed silent, before yelping out as her breast was smacked by Alex. “Whose fault is that, slut?!”
“Mine, Master.” Alex laughed as a tear rolled down her face.
“That’s fucking right, slut. Now, go into the kitchen, and find those candles you used to like so much. Then bring them to me…in your mouth.” Sara wept softly as she got up to do her Master’s bidding, before being hit again, this time in the stomach. She fell back down to the floor with a thud. “Did I say you could walk in my presence? Did I?” Sara shook her head. “Then get on the floor and crawl.” Sara looked at her wrists, still tied behind her back and looked pleadingly at Alex, receiving only a quick twist of her nipples as reward. “Move!” Sara quickly started to crawl her way to the kitchen, as her cruel Master for the night looked on and laughed, planning his next torture for his victim.
After much fishing about for the candles, Sara finally found them, and carried them back to Alex in her mouth, two tears rolling down her face as she did so. Alex snatched them from her “’bout fucking time, slut.” He grabbed her hair and shoved her head to the floor, before quickly untying her wrists. “Get on all fours, whore. I wanna see that ass in the air.” Sara stretched her arms and slowly started to move into the position. “Not fast enough, slut!” A hand smashed down onto her ass, and she yelped out in pain. Alex smiled as he reached for the candles, softly caressing her naked ass. “Oh, we’re going to have such fun, you and me.” He smiled even wider and grabbed a candle, shoving it forcefully into her exposed ass, causing Sara to scream out, and causing Alex to reach round and twist her nipples harder than before. “Oh, don’t worry, little whore. That’ll feel like heaven by the time I’m done with you.” He reached out for his lighter. Sara heard the click and the soft sound of the flame, and started to scream out for mercy. Alex looked at her coldly before grabbing her hair, pulling her head back and making her squeal. “Mercy? Does the bitch want mercy? Have a candle instead, my dear.” He stuffed another candle into her mouth and threw her head back down to the floor. “Now. Where was I?” He felt the candle in her ass and smiled. “Oh yes. I remember.” He took up his lighter again and slowly coaxed the flame onto the wick, smiling wider when it caught alight. “You’ll enjoy this, you little whore!” He stood back to admire his work, whilst Sara wiggled her ass in desperation, hoping to extinguish the flame before the wax melted and hit her exposed thighs…
Sara screamed out as the searing pain pierced her flesh, her open mouth dropping the candle to the floor. Furious, Alex grabbed some duct tape and wrapped it round her mouth, leaving her whimpering helplessly. “That’ll stop that screaming,” he chuckled to himself, before grabbing a chair and relaxing, resting his feet on his helpless slave’s back as she tossed and turned, trying to stop the wax from hitting her thighs. Alex turned on the television, laughing every so often as Sara jolted up from the pain of the wax. Soon Sara could feel the heat of the candle near her ass. It was melting down, and soon it would bubble and melt around her ass, causing her more pain than she could imagine. Her desperate pleas turned into wails for mercy – something Alex noticed eventually, once his television show had finished. He looked down at her ass and yanked the candle out, making Sara both yelp in pain and thank him thousands of times through her gag. Alex smiled, before lowering himself to just next to her ear. “I don’t want to hurt you that badly, Sara. Besides…that orifice will come in handy in a few minutes.” He laughed, before grabbing Sara by the hair and taking her to the kitchen. He searched the room for something to tie her to – drawers, hooks – before settling on a nice little position where she would be bent over the stove, her breasts touching the cooker. He checked to see it wasn’t on or anything first – could have been a nasty surprise. He grabbed Sara and threw her onto the stove, tying her hands to the hook round the back and her feet to the handles of the stove at the front. Her ass was well-exposed and, as ever, beautiful. Alex licked his lips, and took up a spatula by the side. He had been making pancakes before, but this was a much better use of this particular kitchen utensil. He tore off the duct tape and began to stride around the room. “We’re going to make this interesting, slut. You’re going to give me reasons to spank you. I want you to list every time you fucked up in our relationship, and for each thing, I’ll spank you five times. Sounds like fun, eh?” Sara moaned in reluctant agreement. “Good. Well. Let’s begin.” Silence greeted Alex as Sara struggled to think of any times she had done anything wrong in their relationship – she’d been pretty good, as she recalled. Alex grabbed the spatula and started to spank in fury. “Fine! I’ll get things started off!” Sara began to scream as her ass started to go red from the dozens of thwacks she was receiving. Alex was just angrily screaming out reasons for her punishment, not caring about the rules he had just set. “That time you wouldn’t put out on our third date! That time you invited your friends over here without asking me! That time you threw a big party here without consulting me! That time you were wrong about me smashing that vase but wouldn’t admit it!” He threw down the spatula and stared at his helpless slut. “Your turn. Three reasons. Now.” Sara, still writhing about in pain, began to blurt out words in the hope that they would make reasons.
“That…that time I accused you of being unfaithful, Master…” Thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack. Sara yelped in pain at each one whilst Alex chuckled, striding about with his makeshift whip, looking like the tyrant he had always dreamed of being. “That time I kissed your co-worker at the Christmas party, Master…” Alex looked shocked. He didn’t know about that. He gave her an extra five just for that – lying slutty hypocrite.
“Last one, whore. Come on, you can do it.” Sara was still sobbing from the last ten spanks. She knew what he wanted to hear – she bit her lip and swallowed her pride.
“That…time I left
you to start a new life in
“Good bitch. Knew exactly what I wanted to hear. Still won’t spare you from your final punishment though…” Sara heard the unzipping of his trousers and her eyes widened. This was it. Her rape – she knew it was coming. She began her futile begging – she’d do anything to avoid this. Alex sighed, grabbing the roll of duct tape again. “Your mouth has served its purpose. Now let’s get down to business.” He wrapped it round her head before lowering his trousers, allowing his cock to spring out. Sara was struggling furiously against her bonds now – the final humiliation was just too much for her. Alex laughed as he rested his cock on her ass. “Ooh, feels good, doesn’t it? Don’t worry, you whore. It gets better.” He slowly started to circle the ass with his cock, before easing himself in. Sara gasped as his cock began to enter her – with every inch she sobbed a little bit more. Slowly but surely he had the entire thing in her ass, and just as slowly and just as surely he began to pump in and out, accelerating ever so slightly after every pump. Sara moaned through her gag, utterly helpless to stop him and his ever rising speed. Soon Alex was pumping furiously, fucking her without mercy – not that she wasn’t begging for it – loving that slopping sound as he went in and out of her ass at an amazing rate. He started to slap her ass, just to make sure she wasn’t enjoying it, and laughing at her as she made almost sheeplike noises through the gag. “Hah, you enjoying this, you bitch? Does your lesbian mistress do this to you, eh? Stupid whoooore!” He pulled her hair, forcing her upwards as he came, before throwing her back down once he had finished. “Oh, yeah. That was good, wasn’t it, whore!” Sara moaned in disapproval as Alex removed his cock, covered in blood and shit. “Ugh. Have to wipe that off.” He did so on her ass, much to the horror of Sara.
He stood back to admire his handy-work, before realising it was missing just that little something. He grabbed a permanent marker and began to write on his slut’s back, chuckling as he did so – writing out “FUCK ME HERE” with a big arrow pointing to her ass. He looked at the permanent marker and laughed. Why not make her humiliation worse? He cut her free – something which was quite risky as she was kicking out now, tears rolling down her face – and placed her on a chair, tying her back to it, exposing her lovely breasts to him again. His canvas! He began to get to work, writing and abusing his lovely temporary whore. Once he was finished, he had to go get his camera – Sara looked at him with those big, innocent eyes whilst covered in profanities. He took ten, perhaps twenty pictures of Sara – what a sight she was. On her left breast, Alex had written “DUMB WHORE” – on her right “COCKSUCKING BITCH”. Just below her breasts it said “STUPID SLUT FOR USE”, and, of course, just above her cunt, he had written “USE ME HERE”. On her arms he had written “TIE ME UP AND ABUSE ME” – his little serving suggestion, almost. He sat there, laughing at her for a while, before untying her and dragging her upstairs by her hair. She whimpered all the way, his little piece of art, knowing what was going to happen next. Alex used to have a really big dog, which often scared the neighbours. Just to keep them happy, he bought a cage, in which he would put the dog every time it misbehaved. The dog had died long ago, but the cage remained. She knew where she would be staying the night. Alex opened the door to his bedroom and found the cage – it was a lot smaller than Sara had imagined. He smiled, and opened the door. “Crawl in, bitch. A dog house for a dog. How appropriate.” He laughed as she crawled into the cage, just managing to squeeze in. He slammed the door closed, and padlocked it, just to make sure she wouldn’t escape in the night. “Well, goodnight, whore. Sleep tight!” Alex laughed, getting into his warm cosy bed as Sara struggled to make herself comfortable in this barred monstrosity. Once again, she was going to have trouble sleeping because of her new life as a whore. She sighed, and rubbed her sore ass.
The doorbell rang
at some ungodly hour –
“Can I help you?” Alex said, trying to appear a little bit civilised towards this woman who was clearly enjoying seeing him only in his robe.
“Yes. I’m here to pick up my slave.” It suddenly all clicked for Alex, and bizarrely he felt less subconscious, feeling as though he actually knew this woman.
“Right. Right, yeah, she was great. Thank you so much.” Alex ran upstairs and unlocked the cage, grabbing Sara (who was not quite awake yet) by the hair, causing her to scream out. He quickly slapped her across the face. “Oi, you little bitch! Do as I say, or I just might not let you go home now!” Sara’s face lit up, only to be extinguished as Alex pulled her hair first down the stairs and to her Mistress. Ms Davies looked at Sara, and the writing on her back, with amusement.
“I take it this is your work?” She looked over at everything, particularly liking, it seemed, the “STUPID SLUT FOR USE” below her breasts.
“Yeah, sorry. It comes straight off.” Alex was still rather sheepish about his actions last night – he might have crossed a line in drawing on someone else’s slut.
“No, no, don’t worry about it. We’ll have some fun with it.” With that, she grabbed Sara by the hair, as Alex had, and dragged her to the car. “Well, slave. You passed with flying colours. Did you have a good time?” Sara, who was still duct-taped from last night, shook her head vehemently. Ms Davies laughed. “Good. I don’t like my bitches having fun whilst I’m not there. Get in the trunk, whore.” Sara reluctantly got into the trunk of the car, and, just as something to add to her new slavery, Ms Davies handcuffed her hands and feet together, making her adorably stretched out and begging for a kinder position as she closed the trunk door. Ms Davies drove off, waving to Alex all the way, chuckling as she did so. After about an hour, in the middle of a large wood, Ms Davies stopped the car, and walked back over to the trunk. Staring down at her slave, who was dumbfounded as to why they had stopped, she smiled whilst looking at the writing just above her cunt – “USE ME HERE”.
“Oh,
I just thought I’d take the advice of Alex’s writing,” she said, holding up a
strap-on and some ropes, before grabbing her squealing slave and carrying her off
into the woods.
Review This Story || Email Author: jamb