A Slave To Politics

A Slave To Politics
(F/F, FDom, BD, Blackmail, NC, Toys)

Chapter 1

I just have to cum. Two days of intense teasing is driving me insane. My legs
are weak from the constant sexual stimulation, causing a river of goo to
continuously flow down my thighs. The clip, attached to my painfully excited
clit, has just stopped buzzing, leaving me teetering on the edge of an earth
shattering orgasm. The tiny little elastic bands that were wrapped around the
base of my nipples are keeping them super engorged, making them long and
hyper-sensitive. The prolonged stimulation and denial is wearing me down. I can
no longer think of anything but my need to cum.

I try to breath in some sort of normal fashion, but I have lost sense of what
normal is recently. I want to scream in pure frustration. Without the use of my
hands, I can't reach my pussy. If I could get up and somehow pound my crotch
against something, maybe a railing or chair arm, anything to help me achieve
some sort of release, I would be able to think straight. But I could never cope
with the pain from the exact same device that was torching my quivering clit.

We are sitting in one of the most reputable, posh restaurants in the city, a
haven for the rich and powerful to huddle for power lunches and intimate
dinners. I am known here, at least by those whose job it is to know the
powerful. In fact, I am known in most places in this city. This is humiliating
being so horny in such a public place, with no way of stopping this sexual
torture. How have I sunk so low so quickly. And how was I going to get rescue
from this evil woman.

My name is Alicia, the Deputy Mayor of this fine city. I know you are asking how
someone in my position of power, living a clean life, could get in this
predicament. Blame it on Brittany.

Brittany was my new intern at city hall. Each year I make it a point to seek out
the best and the brightest to intern at my office for twelve months. I pay well,
and I hand select each student myself.

My husband, a wealthy and powerful businessman, passed away two years ago,
leaving me financially secure. Although he was almost 10 years older than me, we
fell head over heels the moment we set eyes on each other. We shared an intense
8 year marriage, filled with the aggressive pursuit of our careers and equally
aggressive love life. Now the void is sometimes to painful to manage.

I use my role as a mentor to these interns as a way of coping with my sense of
loss.

Brittany may be the most promising to date. She scored through the roof on her
SAT scores, had achieved a 4.0 average at her university while double majoring
in political science and computer science. And believe me, she needed these
intellectual muscles with the way she looked. It wasn't that she wasn't pretty.
It is just that you would never know by the way she dressed and walked and
talked and acted. Her oversized, completely forgettable collection of frumpy
blouses and floor length skirts, combined with her complete lack of make-up and
slouching posture made her seem mousy and very forgettable.

Add to this her quiet nature and aloof presence, and you had the makings of
someone who in my opinion would never achieve greatness in her life. Although I
am only 33 years old, I felt an almost motherly instinct toward this precious
girl. She would be my project, yet another woman who will conquer the world with
my guidance. This is exactly what I set out to do.

We had made arrangements in advance for her to rent the apartment over the
detached garage in the rear of my property. It was actually a two story
apartment with several bedrooms that were already furnished. She settled in
quickly and quietly.

With her computer acumen, I had her working on creating a set of databases that
tracked the complex array of city permits and business assessments for all
companies conducting business in the city limits. She had quickly mastered our
system and reconfigured the entire operation. Always courteous, she tended to
stay to herself. I need to open her up and find her inner social animal.

Knowing she was single and alone, I would invite her out to dinner to talk work,
as well as asking her to join me in my evening sessions at the gym. I am a firm
believer in an even balance between the mind and body. If you want to push
yourself and explore your true potential you need to keep both mind and body in
top shape. At 5'9", I am a lean, muscled 128 pounds. My C cup breasts have
stayed high and firm, and look even larger because of my slim torso. My hips are
slim, and my ass and leg are strong  from all of my running and weight workouts.
I do 400 sit ups each day, making my abs the favorite part of my body. I love
how my strong wash board stomach looks in my mid-drift outfits. From my running
and weight lifting, I look much better now than when I was Brittany's age. I
keep myself dressed in only the finest professional outfits, presenting a
no-nonsense woman of power.

She, on the other hand, needed the E channel's Fashion Emergency. For our
workouts, I did not like the dumpy boxers and oversized tee-shirts she wore, so
we bought her new exercise outfits. Surprisingly, she was in much better shape
than I would have guessed. She had large, high breasts, small hips, and a wispy,
sleek frame. With the right clothes, the right attitude adjustment, and most
importantly, the right mentor, she will be a dynamo in politics.

She became enthusiastic about our workouts, and we became fast friends.You could
see the difference in just a few weeks. She stopped slouching and starting
dressing better (with the help of my credit card). Though still quiet and aloof
to strangers, she became very open and energetic around me.

About a month into her work at city hall, she stepped into my office to ask me a
series of questions about a business deal my husband had been involved with. She
ran into some discrepancies in the funding process and zoning approval for a
large commercial/retail complex he helped develop. I did not keep tabs on his
business dealings, so I could not answer any of her questions clearly. She
seemed satisfied and wandered back to her desk.

That Friday evening, Brittany invited me over for dinner.  With all the
ceremonies and fundraising dinners I attend as part of my job, a simple home
cooked meal was welcomed change of pace.

Brittany greeted me at the door in one of her new outfits. The cream colored
silk blouse looked stunning in contrast with her dark slacks and mid-heels. She
was the picture of refined elegance. She was especially cheerful this evening.
We drank wine and enjoyed a superb dinner.

As we finished the main course, I said, "Thank you for such a wonderful meal.
You should be proud of your culinary talents."

With a twinkle in her eyes she responded, "You will truly appreciate my talents
with dessert."

She returned from the kitchen with a covered dish and set it down between us on
the table. "are you ready?' she asked with a smile.

When I nodded, she lifted the cover to reveal a set of documents. I was
dumbfounded.

" I guess you are wondering what this is. Let me explain," she said as she
lifted the small stack of documents and handed me the first page. "It seems that
your husband was quite the shady businessman. The databases which I created
uncovered a trail of crooked financing and bribes," she said, handing page after
page documenting each allegation. I was floored.

"Look on these two pages, how your name was included on the credit documents and
financing applications. And look at this one. While you where sitting on the
city council, you gave the green light to fund the Franklin House Project. That
was a cover for a construction scam cooked up by your husband and several of his
silent  "friends". You see the names that are these ledgers?"

At this point, I was shaking my head in disbelief. I tried to say something,
anything, but I was speechless. I don't remember signing these papers. Yet this
was definitely my handwriting.

Brittany continued, " Let me spell out what this means. You are going to jail.
You and your crony dead husband where defrauding the public and you are going to
pay. I will make sure of it." She stared at me with a cold, icy eyes that dared
me to cross her.

I could not believe what I was hearing. "No this must be a mistake. I never...he
never...this can't be. There must be some error somewhere."

She had risen from her seat and was already approaching the phone when she
responded, "I just wanted to see the look on your face before I called the
police. I should have never trusted you. I let you into my life, just to find
out that you are a ruthless, lying thief. You will learn how to behave when they
have their way with you in prison, raping your ass everyday and every night.
Fair and just punishment, in my eyes."

As she dialed the phone, I started shaking in panic. A helpless denial swept
over me. I needed time to figure this out. How could my beloved husband, a
pillar to the community, be part of this. Before I realized it, I screamed out,
"Please don't call the police. I am innocent. I can't go to jail. I will do
anything you ask. Just don't do this to me."

She responded, "please stop your denials. It is all there in front of you. And
don't worry, I have another file with the originals stashed away. That set is
for the police."

My survival instincts were now at full alert. I knew exactly what all of this
would do to me. My career and my family would be ruined. The proof was iron
clad. I would go to prison. This was a frightening prospect, due especially to
my vigorous campaign to toughen laws against street crimes and prostitution as a
way of cleaning up the streets. The women I helped put away would vow vengeance,
I am sure.

"Please stop this. You will ruin my life. Please listen to me. I had no idea
this was happening. Just don't call the police yet. I'll do anything if you
would just believe me. Please?" I cried.

A devious looking smile crossed her face. She put down the phone and moved close
to me."Anything?" she asked.

"yes, anything," I gulped.

"I don't believe you. I will give you one chance to prove to me that you don't
want to go to jail. Now what can you do? hmmm" she rubbed her chin in a mock
gesture of deep contemplation. "How about I ask you to do stuff, and you do
them. If you fail to do anything I ask, or offer any hesitation, then I call the
police and become the star witness for the prosecution. I need to use the powder
room. When I return, I want an answer, one way or another." With that, she
clicked out of the room.

It was like someone drained all the blood out of my body. I could not believe
this was happening to me. As she left the room, I tried to slow my thoughts down
to some reasonable speed. I felt betrayed. I felt scared. I felt like taking off
out of the apartment and running away forever. This ice queen had a hold of me
with such cold, calculated grasp that I was truly frightened. If she is capable
of this, how far would she be willing to go.

Yet, what choice did I have. At that moment, an image of a prison gang bang
passed through my head. I could not go to jail. I was left with only one answer.

"Well, shall I call the police?" she asked as she returned.

"No"

"Then you agree to my terms?" she stated more than she asked.

"For how long?"

"As long as I want. It is yes or no, right now!"

"Y...y...yes," I mumbled.

"I did not hear you"

"Yes, I said," I mumbled a little louder.

"Stop whining. This is going to be fun," she said as she grabbed the the
incriminating stack of documents and put it into her briefcase, locking it shut.
She turned around to face me with a look that froze me.

"Stand up." I looked at her for a moment, then stood up and faced her.

She approached me quickly and said in an almost whispered tone. "You are never
to delay when I ask you to do something. Do you understand? Any more delays and
I will call the police."

"Yes," I responded meekly, stunned by my feelings of total helplessness.

"You are to address me as Miss Brittany. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss Brittany" I said as I felt a tingle of sexual excitement course
through my body. No, I can't be enjoying this; it must be because I was
frightened.

"You are learning quickly. Now strip out of your clothes. But leave the heels
on!"

Stunned, I stood there staring at her in disbelief. When she moved towards the
phone I moved quickly to remove my clothes. I was shaking as I fumbled with the
buttons of my blouse. It slipped off my shoulders and onto the floor, quickly
followed by my slacks. My skin felt very sensitive, and the cool air brought
goose bumps and a sense of hyper awareness.

I could see the hungry look in her eyes as I removed my bra, exposing my breasts
and already hard nipples to her piercing stare. This just fueled my
embarrassment. Stepping out of my panties I could feel the heat of her gaze as
she assessed my charms. Instinctively I covered my breasts and crotch with arms.

With a controlled, powerful voice she ordered, "Keep your hands down. And only
speak when you are spoken to. Now turn around slowly."

Standing naked in my two inch heels made me feel more exposed and vulnerable
than at any point of my life. I was stopped with my back turned towards her. In
a very deliberate action, she attached handcuffs to my wrist, locking my arms
behind me. I suddenly realized that she had planned this all along. I heard the
snap of a camera. Panic started to rise up within me as my feelings of
helplessness multiplied.

Yet I could feel a strong shudder of sexual excitement. I could not believe that
I was getting wet from this kind of treatment. Between the morning of the
passing of my husband, and the deliberately hectic schedule I kept, I had not
made love to anyone in some time. I did masturbated with my trusted dildo, with
my most intense orgasms fantasizing about being bound naked and forced to
perform sex in degrading ways for men. But always men. And it was just fantasy,
wasn't it? Just a way to relieve the pressures of a high pressure job.

Yet Brittany did not give me much time to lull over my feelings. She wrapped
some kind of strap just above my elbows. I groaned as she pulled my elbows
together, causing my arms and shoulders to pull back behind me. My chest was
forced forward, pushing my breasts up and out.

From underneath the couch, should pulled out a shoe box. She showed me the 5
inch heels. she bent down and took off my right shoe, then put on the new one. I
watched as she buckled the strap which attached just above my ankle. From her
pocket she produced a small luggage lock, which she snapped into place, locking
the straps into place. She repeated this action with my other foot. My balance
was shaky, yet I knew that I would not be removing these shoes for some time.

Another click of the camera.

The room was eerily quiet, outside of Brittany's movements and my breathing.
Still kneeling, she ran her fingers up my legs in a series of feather like
strokes, shooting sensations straight through my body. As she approached my
upper thighs and the bottom of my ass, my breathing became irregular and I could
not help but let out a yelp and a deep moan. I could not believe that, in spite
of my humiliated condition, my body was responding to her touch with an
intensity I had not felt in years.

Her fingers continued their journey north, skipping my crotch but circling my
flat stomach and sides. By the time her fingers drew a light trail around my
breasts, she had gained complete control of my body's sexual responses. She
tickled my hard nipples into long, hard nubs that ached for more demanding
attention.

Yet her fingers rose ever higher, over my shoulders and up the sensitive sides
of my neck. Her fingers trailed down my back and reached my ass, causing an
involuntary tensing of my butt. She lingered on my ass, drawing the lightest
little circles over both cheeks. As she reached the back of my thighs and knees,
I thought I would faint from the erotic sensations coursing through my body.

She repeated the process again. By the start of round three I was a quivering,
moaning mess. My slit was aching for some contact. I could feel my clit throb
with my pounding heart. I had never felt so excited in my life. What was
happening with me? Is there something wrong with me?

This time, she paid attention to my crotch. She drew her feathery touch around
the outside of my labia sending shivers of pleasure through my oversensitive
skin. My pussy was leaking wetness. She ran her fingers over and between my
labia. Never in the world had I allowed another woman to touch me, yet I could
not believe how excited I was becoming.

"Look how wet you are. You are just a horny slut. You must love to being so
helpless. Now, open you mouth and suck my fingers, slut," she said as she lifted
her sex-coated fingers up to my mouth. Her use of the word slut pushed my
embarrassment even further. I thought about keeping my mouth shut, but I was in
no condition for any more surprises. I opened up wide and she ran her fingers
all around my mouth. For some reason, the odd taste of my own excitement,
combined with her fingers being sucked in my mouth and my helpless condition
caused me to well up with tears yet again.

"Don't worry, honey, by the end of this weekend, you will have more pussy juice
than you will ever believe possible. Your desires and excitement will be
controlled by me and only by me." She brings her fingers down to my nipples
again, using a stronger touch, pulling and pinching and twisting until they feel
like they will explode. Out of a large gym bag which I had not seen before, she
grabs two clamp looking devices with a chain connecting the two. She pulls on
the left nipple and attaches the clamp on it's base.

The pain is overwhelming and I scream.

"Shut up, slut. You can moan, but nothing louder." she whispered into my ear.
She attached the other clamp, causing searing pain to criss-cross my breasts. My
grunting and moaning filled the room. I see her pick up the digital camera and
take another picture. I am mortified. She grabbed the hanging chain and using it
like a leash, she lead me into her bedroom. The shoes were uncomfortable and
difficult to walk in. I managed to make it down the hall without having my poor
nipples torn off my chest.

Her bedroom is rather large, with a king-sized four poster bed and a number of
dressers and chests. She walked me over to the full length mirror in the corner.
Next to the mirror was a small video recorder standing on a tripod. She turned
on the camera as we reach the mirror.

I stopped dead in my tracks as I stared at my reflection. I looked like an
excited, oversexed bimbo. My arms and shoulders strained as my boobs stuck out
from my chest, as if inviting anyone to play with the long, clamped nipples. My
excited breathing highlighted my strong stomach muscles. My crotch was
glistening with wetness, and you could see some of this wetness had spread to
the tops of my inner thighs. The high heels made my legs look long and strong.
Overall, I staring epitome of sex. And I could not believe it was me.

"Like what you see in the mirror?" she asked as she ran her hands over my
breasts again, stoking the fire between my legs yet again. As she rubbed me, I
could see how I involuntarily moved my hips and twisted my mouth in small, slow,
gyrating motions that looked sexy as hell.

"That person you see is a slut, a slave to her own sexual needs. I bet that you
would masturbate right in front of me if you had a free hand and bring yourself
to that climax which is building in you like a volcano. Isn't that right, slut?"

And she was right. I would have jammed my hand into my pussy without hesitation.
I would have pounded myself without mercy until I achieved this Herculean orgasm
that was building up inside me. "yes, Miss Brittany" I stammered.

Brittany's hand had moved down to my clit, and she pulled the hood aside to rub
the throbbing button. I gasped at it's size. It was larger than I had ever seen
it, sticking out erect like the tip of a finger. And it was so sensitive that I
knew I would cum in just a moment or two. I could not believe how my body
betrayed me. I should not be liking this. I should not be finding such pleasure
from a woman, someone who is forcing me into become a sex toy against my will.
Yet in just a short time, I was more excited than I had ever been. I wanted to
cum.

I can feel my orgasm approach and just as I am about to climax, she removes her
hand. My hips immediately buck forward, trying to hump her retreating hand. She
laughs at me, grabbing the nipple chain and pulling me towards the bed. She sits
on the bed.

"Kneel. Now you want to cum, don't you slut?" she asked as she rubbed the tips
of my clamped nipples. She was right. My hole body was vibrating with the orgasm
she denied me. "Answer me. You want to cum more than ever in your life?"

"Yes, Miss Brittany."

"Yes what, slut?"

"Yes, I want to cum, Miss Brittany."

"Beg me."

"Ple...Please make me cum. God, how I need to cum. I will do anything, JUST LET
ME CUM!!!......Miss Brittany, Please."

"If you want to have that little orgasm which is ruling you life right now, you
will need to give me one first. Don't ever forget that. You will only cum when I
give you permission. And you will always make me cum first. Or second, Or 40
times. Then, you might get yours." As she says all of this, she leans back and
slides her slacks down her legs. Her sexy black thong panties (I had never seen
her were undies anything nearly as sexy before) smelled of arousal. She lifted
up her butt again and pulled the thongs down her legs. Her pussy was completely
shaved and was moist from top to bottom.

She grabbed my head and shoved my face into her slit. She held me so tight that
I did not think that I could breath. Though I could feel my stomach churn with
disgust, I new what she wanted and stuck my tongue out. I licked her swollen
lips, trying to give her the same kind of attention that I know that I like. Her
odor was a very strong, sweet scent that revolted me and excited me at the same
time.

I heard the click of the camera again. The humiliation kept getting worse.

This was hard without my hands. I licked up under the hood of her clit,
releasing the hard nub. I flicked it with my tongue and sucked it. She was
bucking like a bronco, yet held my head tightly in place. In only a few minutes,
she screamed out. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD...UGGGHHHHHHH.....I'M
CUMMMMMMIIIIINNNGGGGG!" I kept licking until she had come down from her intense
orgasm. She pushed me back. I landed on my bound arms, causing me to scream out
in pain.

"You are certainly a talented pussy licker, slut. Are you sure you have never
licked pussy before. With a tongue like that, I will have much work for you and
you valuable tongue."

She leaned down and started to rub my clit again. "Look at the size of your
clit, slut. It must be twice the size of mine. You are just built for sex,
aren't you?"

I was so excited again I barely answer "Yes, Miss Brittany."

She pulled out a large, 10 inch dildo with some kind of suction device on the
base. She made me lick the suction cup, then walked over to the window and stuck
the dildo onto the window.  "I am going to give you a chance to cum, slut. You
have ten minutes to fuck yourself with that dildo, or you go unsatisfied. And
believe me, with the weekend I have planned for you, you will be one sorry slut
if you don't cum now. You better hurry, time is a-wasting"

I look at her and I can't believe what she is asking of me. She wants me to fuck
myself in front of her window. How demeaning. Yet my pussy is screaming for
attention. The battle was not a tough one...I needed to cum. Struggling to my
feet, I approach the window. She has attached the dildo a bit high, so I have to
stand up on my tip toes for the dildo to reach my pussy. It took tremendous
balance and strength, but I finally got the right angle and push my pelvis onto
the dildo. Geez that felt good. Without hesitation I start rocking my hips back
and forth. I have to teeter on the toes of these high heels to reach, straining
my legs, ass and back.

I then saw Brittany in the corner of my eye. I turned to see her with the video
camera, filming my debasement. I was beyond embarrassment. I lost my balance and
struggled to re-mount the massive dildo.

"You have 6 minutes left. Better hurry, slut" she says as she walks out of the
room.

I continue the awkward process of fucking myself on her window while balancing
on my toes. I fell back a couple of times and had to struggle to re-mount the
monster dildo. I had never wanted anything more than i wanted that orgasm, and I
was afraid that I would lose it each time I lost my balance.

Finally, I was so close to cumming that I start to scream out. Just as I was
about to orgasm, my sight is blinded by a flash outside of the window. I look
down, and see Brittany snapping photos of me fucking her window. Yet I kept
humping. Just as my orgasm consumes me, I see her snap off a set of pictures of
me in this degrading position. I scream out the most intense cum I have ever
experienced in my life. When I am done, I slide off the dildo and slump to the
floor.

As I recover, I start to cry from the humiliation and helplessness. Maybe she
was right. Maybe I am just a slut after all.

Brittany returned to the room, clapping and whistling at my performance.
"Tomorrow will be a long day for you, so you better get some sleep." With this,
she pulls out a collar from her bag and locks it tightly around my neck. She
then locks a chain onto the collar, and locks the other end the leg to the heavy
chester drawers. Returning to the bag, she grabs a set of panties with a dildo
attached. Sensuously she pulled the panties up both of my legs. She steers the
tip of the dildo to my opening, then pushes it in with a slurping sound. She
pulls the panties up tight, then turns the knob of the dildo. I can feel the
dildo start to vibrate. She releases the strap binding my elbows, then attaches
another set of cuffs to my ankles, binding them together.

I don't dare speak, but plead with her with my eyes to remove the dildo. How am
I expected to sleep?

"You will be sleeping on the floor for now on, so you won't leak your slut goo
all over my nice bed. And don't look at me with that tone of voice. I only put
the setting on low. And here is a pillow. Now don't you have something to say?"

"Uh, thank you for the dildo and for allowing me to sleep on your floor. And
thank you for the use of your pillow, Miss Brittany." I said in a defeated tone.

"Very good. You are making a wonderful slave." Then, as if she forgot something,
she ran to the bag and pulled out a red ball with a strap running through it.
She asked me to open my mouth, then she stuffed the soft rubber ball in. She
tightly fastened the strap behind my head. I tried say something, but it came
out as a low murmur.

She patted my head and said, "I can't have you waking me up while I get my
beauty rest. Now go to sleep, my toy."

I lay my head down and close my eyes, tears leaking down my cheeks. The vibrator
sang it's song as my clit heard it's tune, staying large and stiff and excited.
Yet the buzz was only enough to keep me aroused and not enough to push me over
the edge. 

A Slave To Politics

Part 2

by SpeechMasterOne


That first night was emotionally and physically exhausting. The vibrating dildo
in my pussy created a warm sexual tension throughout my body. The fullness
reached deep inside me. Any little movement pushed and pulled the monster into a
new position in my sex, causing my excitement to increase. Yet lying still was
nearly impossible. As I tried to settle down and find some rest, the vibrator
would build up the tension slowly and deeply. It did not touch my clit, though I
could feel the secondary vibrations rattle trough my loins. The frustration
grew. And grew. Within a couple of hours, I was grinding my hips involuntarily.

My nipples remained painfully hard as a thin layer of perspiration covered my
straining body. I grunted and groaned into my gag. In my wildest dreams, I would
never have believed that sexual excitement could be a form of endless torture. I
felt so incredibly helpless. My body was overloading my brain with the need to
find some relief. It screamed for it. Yet my mind could do nothing for it. Even
when I succumbed to my exhaustion and found some sleep, my dreams were filled
with chaotic and kinky sex. I would wake up several times moaning and humping
the air with my hips. Needless to say, I got very little rest.

The sun had been up for just about 30 minutes when Brittany awoke. She had
always been an early riser. As she stretched, the early morning sun lit up her
glorious body. I was amazed how sexy she looked with her large, high breasts
capped with perfectly round areolas and 1/2 inch nipples. She was thin, yet
carried a strong look to her entire frame. Her hazy eyes and sexy body added
just another can of fuel to the raging fire between my legs.

She looked down at me as she rolled out of bed. Leaning down, she watched my
hips grind with great amusement. "Well, aren't we a restless little slut?" she
asked mockingly. "All of my life I have dreamed of a hot slut to own. Yet it
would have remained a fantasy if you had not filled my head with your visions of
greatness. You truly convinced me that i could accomplish anything that I set my
sights on. And believe me, my sights were on you." As she said this, she used
one hand to run along the tight muscles of my stomach, then up to trace lines
around my rock-hard nipples. I thrust my chest up towards her hand, begging
through my gag for more contact. Her other hand found her own nipples and played
with them in earnest.

She got up and grabbed the video camera. Setting it up on the tripod, she
focused it on me and turned it on. She went to the bathroom while I struggled on
the floor. My god, what a sight I must be presenting. Muscles straining, sweat
gleaming, humping my hips in small circles while I moan into my gag, nipples
hard. How would I ever say I was not enjoying this? I felt totally defeated.

Brittany returned about 10 minutes later. She turned off the camera and set it
up in the bathroom. She returned and unlocked my ankles.

"Into the bathroom, slut. Hurry up, we have a busy day ahead!" she snapped.

I moved as fast as my cramped muscles would allow. She leaned down and unlocked
the high heels, slipping off my aching feet. She unlocked my wrists for the
first time since last night. They felt dead. The freedom was short lived. She
pulled me into the shower and snapped the cuffs back on in front of me. She
attached the handcuffs to a chain hanging from a large hook in the ceiling
located over the shower drain. I had to stretch up on my toes to keep the Strain
off my arms and shoulders.

"Your panties are soaking wet. Look at all of your fuck juice!" She said as she
peeled the saturated garment down my thighs. The dildo made a slurping sound as
it eased out of my slit. I held my breath and was a bit startled as it popped
out. Goo practically poured out of my pussy and down my thighs. My overcharged
sex was now void of any sensations, and incredibly, I wanted more. At a primal
level, I needed to cum.

Once the panties were off, she removed the gag. My mouth was sore and my jaw
ached something fierce. Yet she paid no attention to my problems. She leaned
forward and started the shower. I screamed from the impact of the frigid water.

"Quiet!" She screamed back as she smacked my ass hard with her hand.

The cold water felt like a thousand little needles hitting my skin. I shivered
violently as goose bumps rose all over my body. It felt as though my lungs could
not draw in any air. After about 30 seconds, I started to relax as the water
warmed. Soon the hot water hit my trussed up body. Brittany stepped in the
shower behind me. For the next 20 minutes, she lathered and rubbed and teased my
every nook and crevice her hands could find. She soaped up my back, kneading the
tension out of my aching muscles. She leaned into me as she washed my neck, then
my chest. She lingered forever on my proud breasts, running her slippery hands
over my nipples until they felt too sensitive to touch. Yet she continued, all
the while rubbing her breasts and hard nipples on my back.

The feel of her body on mine was the most erotic thing I had ever felt. I
loathed myself for allowing her to manipulate me so easily. I fought against her
delicious touch. Yet my body ignored my silent protestations. I started shaking
again, but this time with the need for her to allow me to cum. Her hands moved
down my sides and hips moving towards by swollen slit. The touch was purely
electrifying. Just a couple of light flicks on my clit brought me teetering on
the edge of cumming. But by this time, she moved her soapy hands down my thighs,
not allowing me to achieve release. I groaned with my need.

Once she finished rinsing me off, she stepped out of the shower stall briefly,
leaving me practically hanging with water pelting my nipples relentlessly. She
returned with an enema bag. "Please don't," I protested.

She spanked me twice on the ass with stinging blows. "I believe in progressive
punishment. Each time you disobey me, you earn an additional slap." I shut my
mouth immediately.

"Now that you are clean on the outside, we need to clean your insides as well,"
she giggled as she pressed the applicator against my anal opening. I have never
had anything up my ass before. Before I was ready, I felt her pushing it, trying
to get it past my anal ring. The more resistance, the harder she pushed. I
groaned deeply as it finally pushed it's way in. Once she felt satisfied how far
it was shoved in, I heard her squeeze a pump and I felt the plug expand inside
me. She kept pumping until I was certain she would split me apart.

She filled the 2-quart enema bag with the warm water from the showerhead, and
mixed in a little soap before sealing the bag. The bag was hung in front of me
on the showerhead. She patted me on the cheek and turned the knob, allowing the
water to flow quickly into my bowels. I panicked as I realized that she might
empty the entire bag inside of me. My insides started to expand. The pain grew
quickly. "Please stop. It hurts too much! Stop, Miss Brittany!!" I felt three
rapid-fire smacks on my ass that sent me swinging by my wrists. With the added
weight in my bowels my arms and shoulders were straining to their limit.

I bit my lip as the bag released the last of its contents into my over-extended
intestines. I looked down to see my stomach bulging like I was 7 months
pregnant. First I felt a series of rumbles in my bowels. Then I felt intense
cramps fire pain throughout my midsection. As the cramps increased, Brittany
started rubbing my slit again, light brushing my clit with her fingernail. The
effect was mind shattering. The cramps distracted me as she increased the level
of my arousal to heights I had never explored before. My heart pounded and my
lungs fought for air as she played with my helpless nub, pushing further towards
an orgasm despite the pain. Just as I approached my orgasm, she let go of my
clit.

"My. My little toy is in quite predicament, isn't she," Brittany said in a
little girl's voice. "I want you to tell me what a little slut you are. If you
convince me, I will take this out of your ass. I might even let you cum first."

With a speed and aggressiveness that truly shocked me, I immediately started
begging, almost screaming, "I am your sex toy, your slut. You own me, Miss
Brittany. I want to cum so bad. I need to cum!!!! I will go insane!!!!!  PLEASE
HELP ME!  I AM SUCH A SLUT!!  I WILL DO ANYTHING IF YOU WILL JUST LET ME CUM!!!"

With a grin, she leaned into the shower and whispered into my ear. "You want to
cum so bad that you don't even mind the enema up your ass. Maybe I will leave
this in you for the rest of the day."

Just as the pain intensified, I groaned out "My God, you must take this out. It
hurts. Please help me!" 

"As you wish. But you must promise to hold it in for 5 minutes, or I will not
allow you to cum now."

I nodded. Without a word, she released the air from the applicator and yanked it
out of my ass. She then stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. She
watched with amusement as I struggled to hold in the contents of my belly. After
thirty seconds, I was losing strength; after one minute, I could feel seepage.
Thoroughly exhausted, I gave up after the 90-second mark. Everything released
from my anal cavity and onto the floor. As my bowels evacuated, I felt utter
relief. Yet the brown liquid floating around my toes disgusted me. And I felt
absolutely mortified.

Brittany ordered me to turn around so the shower could wash off the rest. Once
everything had cleared, she reached in and turned of the shower. She reached up
and unhooked my cuffs from the chain in the ceiling. I nearly collapsed onto the
shower basin. She pulled me out and asked me to sit on the toilet seat. As soon
as she returned with the scissors and shaving cream in her hands, I remembered
the sight of her bald pussy. I was so emotionally spent that I had no energy
left to protest.

She proceeded to clip my wispy tuft of pubic hair. She took her time,
"accidentally" bumping my clit several times. By the time she applied the
shaving cream to my mound and the space between my slit and asshole, my arousal
was skyrocketing. She slowly shaved me, pulling on my labia to get a better
angle. I was again near an earth shattering orgasm when she finished up. She
used a wet washcloth to clean away the excess soap. "There you go!  Look at how
puffy your perfect little cunt lips are. And your huge clit is sitting up like a
tiny little pecker. You will never be allowed to have hair again on your pussy.
Even stubble will cause you severe punishment. Do you understand?" She asked
sternly as she rubbed my now bald slit with her amazing feather like touch. I
was amazed at how quickly she could bring me to the edge, and how she
instinctively knew when to stop.

"Yes, Miss Brittany"

She took off the handcuffs and ordered me to clasp my hands behind my head. She
then went into the bedroom and returned with her naughty bag of toys. She
grabbed a towel and patted my shivering body dry. I think she new that the
shivering was from my need to cum, not the chill of the room.

She took out a collar from the bag. Inscribed on the front were the words
"SexToy."  She fastened a collar around my neck, and locked it in place. This
simple act delivered a devastating blow to my self-esteem. I lost all self worth
at that point.

She handed me a garter belt and ordered me to slip it on. It was a bit too
tight, but I knew better than to complain. Next were the hose, which I rolled up
each leg and attached to the garters. She lifted each foot and locked on the
five-inch heels from last night.

"I don't like droopy tits, so you will have the luxury of always wearing a bra.
I will make sure that you will always find them to be, shall I say,
'entertaining' at the least." With this she handed me a heavily boned demi-bra,
with enough support to force my breasts up and out, but leaving the nipples
fully exposed.

She grabbed a six-inch chain from the bag and locked it to my collar. The other
end was locked to my handcuffs. Brittany barked, "Now go down stairs and fix me
breakfast. You are not allowed to cum. And don't get any stupid
thoughts...remember what I have on you now." She pointed to the video camera,
which was sitting on the medicine cabinet. It was pointed at the shower, which
meant that it captured the entire episode with the enema, including my begging
to cum.

I rolled my eyes as I made my way to the downstairs kitchen. I had to move
slowly and deliberately in these monster heels. I tested the length of the chain
and found I could not get close enough to touch my pussy. Even when I stopped
and bent over, I was just an inch or so away from touching my still throbbing
clit.

As I started fixing breakfast, I thought about how I would get out of this
predicament. Could I steal the files? No, they were locked away. What about the
pictures and video? I did not know where they were kept. I could run away. But
where would I go. I would be hounded down by law enforcement. I could give up
and go to prison. But then I would lose everything and my career and reputation
would be shattered. I would need outside help, but it would take time to plan,
time that I did not have at my disposal right then.

The heels were killing my feet. They forced me to walk with an exaggerated sway
in my hips. And this bra was something else. It held my breasts up on two round
shelves, presenting my nipples like twin gun barrels. Even with the collar and
chains, I had to admit that I looked and felt sexy. Without thinking, I used my
fingertips to lightly brush my nipples back and forth.

The heightened level of excitement from the last 12 hours, which had just cooled
to a simmer over the last 20 minutes, was almost instantly stoked again. Never
had my body been so sensitive and felt so hot. I started to pinch my nipples and
pull on them as my breathing increased rapidly.

Realizing what I was doing, I summoned all of my strength and took my hands away
from my nipples. But the damage was done. My body was again buzzing with sexual
need. I took deliberate breaths to calm myself down. I was startled. I whipped
my head around as I heard Brittany in the kitchen doorway. She was dressed in a
mid-thigh length leather skirt, a tasteful sleeveless blouse and two-inch heels.
She looked stunning.

"I had a feeling that I could not trust you and your slut tendencies. You must
realize that I now own your body. You must ask permission before you can touch
it. You must ask permission before you do anything. You are my toy to play with,
and I will exact extreme punishment if you disobey me. Now bend over the counter
and receive your spankings. I believe that we are now up to four!"

Her speech frightened the hell out of me. I quickly leaned over the counter.
Brittany grabbed my hair and pushed my head down as she rattled off her first
slap. My ass, which never completely recovered from the previous slaps, smarted
something fierce. Brittany said, "From now on, you will count them out and thank
me for spanking you after each and every blow. Understand, my toy?"

"Yes, Miss Brittany. One...thank you for spanking me!"

SLAP!

"Two...thank you for spanking me, Miss Brittany!"

SLAP!

That one made me groan in pain. "Three...thank you for spanking me, Miss
Brittany!"

SLAP!

The last was the hardest yet. I could feel my eyes well up. "Four.....thank you
for spanking me, Miss Brittany!" The simple acting of thanking her for each slap
was as humiliating as the punishment itself.

Brittany sat down. "Serve me my food. Then pour yourself a small bowel of
Special K, with skim milk, and sit on the floor and eat it as quickly as
possible."

I moved quickly and quietly, tending to her needs first, then fixing and eating
my breakfast. At her command, I took up the dishes and cleaned them while she
returned to the bedroom to setup my clothes for this morning. I joined her as
soon as I finished.

She grabbed the hook in my collar and pulled me into the bathroom. She unhooked
the chain connecting my cuffs to the collar, and then uncuffed my wrists, only
to cuff them behind me again. She sat me down at the vanity and started to pull
my hair into a tight ponytail. Staring into the mirror, I watched as she started
tying a thin leather strap to the base of my hair, and then weaved it into the
ponytail. I found out later just why she did this.

Finished with my hair, she uncuffed my wrists, freeing them for the first time
since last night. She gave me very strict instructions on how to apply my
makeup. In a word, "heavy!" She went into the bedroom as I finished up.

I finished and joined her in the bedroom as ordered. She had pulled one of my
older business suits. It was a red outfit that I had not worn in a while, and
obviously she had prepared it far in advance of the day's events. She handed me
the skirt, and as I pulled it on, I immediately noticed the hem was much higher.
In fact it was only a few inches from the bottom of my ass. If I bent over, I
would expose the underside of my tight buns. The skirt was now much tighter as
well.

She handed me the matching coat, which was a double-breasted coat with a single
button in the front. This coat was meant to be worn with a blouse underneath.
She had obviously taken this in as well. I had to pull the coat to get the
button to fasten. This pressed my nearly naked breasts and exposed nipples into
the fabric. The roughness of the fabric rubbing against my nipples instantly
brought them to rock-hard attention again. You could see them pushing little
tents in the fabric. The coat also exposed the tops of my breasts, and was cut
deep enough so that you could notice the strap between my bra cups.

She grabbed some kind of plug, 5 inches long and tapered on both ends, with a
broad, flat base at one end. "Lift your skirt, slut," she ordered. As I did so,
she ran the plug up and down my still wet slit. I yelped as she then pushed it
into my pussy, and she moved it in and out, twisting it around with each thrust.
I was again amazed how quickly she brought me to the brink of an orgasm. I was
panting and was about to hit that much needed cum when she pulled it out. I
wanted to scream out, but I did not want another spanking this morning.

"Bend over and hold your ankles," she ordered. In position, I felt her run her
fingers over my hard ass cheeks and upper thighs. I was shaking with need. How
does she know how to keep me at this impossible level of excitement? She touched
the fuck-juice covered plug against my anal hole. She pushed and twisted as I
grunted with the pain. After a short but intense effort, the plug broke through
my tight sphincter and sucked in the plug to its base. For the second time in as
many hours, my ass felt uncomfortably full.

Finished with my anal violation, she commanded that I straighten up. Brittany
piled some items from her toy bag into her purse, and we were on our way.

She led me out to my car. She opened the doors with the remote, and we both
climbed in. "Lift your skirt and sit bare assed on the seat." I did as she said.
The plug moved in my ass.

Brittany pulled out of the long driveway of my five-acre property and proceeded
to inform me of the game we would play as we drove to our first destination.
"You will use one hand to play with your nipples, and one hand to play with your
slit. You are to judge your excitement on a scale from 1 to 10, with 1 being
normal and 10 being an orgasm. You are to announce a number to correspond to you
excitement level. Once you reach the number 9, you are to ask my permission to
stop playing with yourself. Only with my permission are you allowed to stop. You
are absolutely NOT ALLOWED TO CUM!  I know you and your body language, so don't
think that you can cheat. If you disobey me, or if I think you are not being
100% honest in playing my little game, then I will punish you so severely with
my whip that it will take weeks for the scars to heal. Now tell me, what level
are you at right now?"

"Five, Miss Brittany" I did not want to play this game, especially riding in my
car were anyone on the road could see my lewd sexual display. I felt so terribly
helpless and alone.

"You may start," she announced.

With this, I immediately started rubbing my breasts and my slit. Again, my body
betrayed me, growing in excitement like a rocket. "Six," I said almost
immediately. My sphincter squeezed around the plug.  "Seven," I said seconds
later. I pinched and pulled my right nipple as my right hand flicked my clit
with a flurry. I needed to cum so badly that my body was driving me towards my
orgasm at light speed. "Eight," I panted as i could feel my whole body heat up.
I was already leaking goo onto the leather seat. "Nine," I said as I could feel
an earth shattering orgasm forming deep within me. With great reluctance, I
begged, "May I stop playing with myself, Miss Brittany?"

Brittany looked over at me with a huge smile and a snicker. "Keep going. But I
warn you, don't cum!"

I slowed my hands down, which did little good because of the how hypersensitive
my clit and nipples were. My vision blurred and I could hear a ringing in my
ears as I continued to stroke myself. I was grunting and moaning so loud that I
thought that I would shatter the glass. Just when I thought that I would
literally explode, she said the magic words, "STOP."

I took my hands away and struggled catch my breath. I could hear her laughing at
me as my body slowly cooled down a bit. After several minutes, just when my head
was feeling clear, she said, "Start"

I was flabbergasted that I had to do this again! Yet my hands flew to play with
my nipples and clit again. "Seven." I forced myself to rub slower this time, to
somehow control my excitement and not allow her complete satisfaction over me.
But my body was not listening to me. "Eight" I felt like a run away train. I
could not stop my body from racing towards the orgasm that had been denied so
often over that past few hours. In a defeated tone, I grunted
"Nine.....Mi...Miss Britt..ttany...may I stop pla...playing with me?"

Brittany started giggling again as she said nothing, watching my body tremble
and turn beet red as I struggled to keep from cumming. I thought I would lose
consciousness when I her yell "STOP!"

After what I estimated as about ten minutes, she said the dreaded words again,
"Start."

"Eight" I stammered as my hands punished my clit and nipples. My fingers were
listening only to my body now, driving me hard towards the only thing that
mattered in my life, a fucking orgasm. "NINE" I screamed as I held my breath to
fight the gigantic O. I needed it so bad that I cried like an infant. I did not
care anymore. I would take my punishment. I was going to make myself cum, even
if it killed me.

I did not notice that Brittany had pulled off on the side of the road. Just when
I reached the point of no return, she grabbed my hand that was friggin my clit
and pulled it away. She snapped a handcuff on it and quickly pulled it behind my
back. She grabbed my other wrist, maneuvered it behind my back, and snapped the
other cuff tight.

I could not stop shaking as my body screamed at me to cum. Crying was the only
form of release that I could muster. This evil girl was using my sexual need to
torture me, and at that moment I knew that I was broken. I could only imagine
what would come next (forgive the pun).

(to be continued)

A Slave To Politics

Part 3

by SpeechMasterOne

The warm breeze of the early summer morning blew across the road as Brittany
again started driving. I shivered in my seat as my thoughts spun out of control.
I could barely see as the tears clouded my vision. Minute upon minute passed,
yet my heart kept beating as fast as it could to keep up with my sexual
excitement.

Finally, my arousal finally started to recede to a manageable level as Brittany
pulled into a mall parking lot. Activity was brisk as the lot was quickly
filling with morning shoppers. With my skirt hiked up, I was terrified that
someone would see my soaking wet pussy.

I never shopped here before, though I heard of this mall. We were a good 40
minutes outside of the city, A place where I  normally would not be caught dead
shopping. I felt comforted a bit by the precautions Brittany took.

"We are going inside so that you can buy yourself new outfits," Brittany
commanded. "Don't worry, slut, we will keep you relatively respectable during
work hours. But we need more appropriate outfits for you so that I can dress my
toy as I wish. Now remember the rules. I am sure you don't want to give me a
reason to spank your bare ass in the middle of a crowded mall" Brittany slowly
moved her finger to touch my red and puffy sex. Just the slightest touch caused
me to jerk. Brittany ran her finger down the moist lips, then slowly dipped her
finger into the sopping wet folds. Everything was so hypersensitive that I
thought that I would literally explode. I had no idea that I could ever get this
horny. My large clit stood out erect, yearning for even a single blissful
stroke. She toyed with me until she spotted the signs of an impending orgasm,
then abruptly stopped. She brought her wet finger to my mouth in an obvious
offering. I was about to suck the finger into my mouth when I remembered to ask
permission.

"Please allow me to suck my juice off of your finger, Miss Brittany," I begged
in a breathy voice. She smiled and allowed me to move my lips forward. The act
of licking and sucking her finger, covered with my lustful juices, hammered away
at my self esteem. Even though my brain said this was wrong, wrong, wrong, my
body was in absolute control and demanded that I obey in the hopes of achieving
some end to my tortured excitement.

"Good slut," she cooed as she pet my head with her free hand. For some reason,
at that moment, I felt very proud that I had earned her praise. She bent me
forward in my seat and released my wrists from the cuffs. I wanted to thrust my
fingers into my slit, but I was so scared of angering Brittany that I kept my
hands away. I felt week as stepped out of the car. 

We walked together, her arm around my waist. With the unfamiliar heels, butt
plug and pent up sexual excitement I was unsteady in my gate. As we approached
other shoppers moving towards the entrance, I realized how vulnerable and nearly
naked I was. The light breeze blew between my legs and on my soaking wet, bald
crotch. Several times short gusts would threaten to lift up my skirt, exposing
to the world my seemingly whorish condition. My nipples rubbed the course
fabric, shooting daggers straight to my libido.


Every eye seemed to catch my loosely dressed image as the two of us strolled
into the mall and down the main promenade. I was relieved when we entered one of
the stores near the entrance, a trendy teens store. Music blared as we walked by
rack after rack of skimpy, tight, sexy clothes for high schoolers. She marched
me to the racks of blouses, picking up an assortment, none of which I would have
ever considered even in my more rambunctious youth. We skimmed the skirt section
where she selected a grouping of skirts that seemed to lack enough fabric to be
called skirts. She quickly herded me into the dressing room.

"I have coordinated the outfits. Change and come find me so I can assess each on
you. Don't touch your clit for any reason. Now hurry up, slut!" she warned.

Though I feel comfortable in a size 4, she had selected nothing but size 2
outfits, which were already meant for a tight fit. The first selection was a
sheer blue button up blouse which was so tight that it took some effort to
fasten the buttons. I quickly slipped on the tiny skirt. What I saw when I
turned to look in the mirror made me shiver. The hem of the skirt ended just two
inches below my butt cheeks. If I bent over for any reason, I would expose my
plugged ass. You could see the shimmer of wetness on the inside of my upper
thighs. And the blouse did nothing to hide my breasts, showcased by the 1/4 cup
bra. My nipples where straining to poke through the fabric, the smooth surface
rubbing maddeningly against the erect nubs. With the heels, I looked like some
kind of horny tramp. How could she expect me to go out like this.

Yet I knew that I had no choice. I sucked it up and walked out into the store.
Brittany was up at the front counter talking with the sales girl. The heels
forced me to exaggerate the sway of my tight hips, causing the skirt to ride up
a bit with each step. I pulled down the hem as i approached Brittany. "Turn
around," she ordered. The clerk was a smallish girl with an extremely
provocative outfit hugging her tight little frame. Her stares further fueled my
embarrassment.

Completing my turn, Brittany asked, "Precious, isn't she? Look at how horny she
is."

"You were right, she is an adorable little toy. How long has she been your
slave? A day? And she is already leaking like a faucet?"

They both smiled as I listened, mortified at how they were talking about me like
I was a possession, just an object that they owned.  The sales girl approached
me, her eyes level with my breasts. She rubbed my nipples through the fabric,
eliciting a loud moan. As she began to pinch, I moved my hands reflexively to
protect my nipples. In an instant, I knew that I was in trouble.

"Ah, how disappointing. Slut, you will need to be punished. And since you
offended my friend, she will determine how you will be punished."

I was petrified as both girls escorted me to the back room of the store. I
should have bolted out of the store and grabbed someone from security. I am sure
they would help me. But I was dressed like a sexed-up slut in clothes that had
not paid for. I would not be treated like a victim, but like a common thief.
Again, I was trapped.

The sales girl pulled out a set of handcuffs from a desk drawer. She grabbed my
wrists and secured them behind me. She then grabbed a length of rope and tied it
to the strap weaved into my ponytail. Then with the help of Brittany they pulled
the rope over a pipe running parallel to the ceiling. They pulled it tight,
forcing me up on the balls of high heels to take the strain off my hair. I
screamed out my discomfort and was met with a ball gag being popped into my
mouth. Again, I felt completely helpless.

The sales girl licked her lips as she began to slowly, ever so slowly, unbutton
my blouse. She intentionally brushed my nipples as she reached the last buttons.
She looked like a kid in a candy store with the way she stared at my breasts. I
heard the now familiar snap of a camera as Brittany took pictures of my
debasement in the hands of this evil little creature. The clerk unfastened my
skirt and pulled it down my stretched legs, dropping them down around my toes.

And there I stood, bound, naked and helpless, sexually excited in front of two
sadistic teens. What frightened me most was that I was silently begging for them
to touch me, to use my pussy, to make me cum. The clerk massaged my breasts,
then squeezing and pulling my nipples out. God that hurt. She kept at my breasts
for several long minutes, driving me insane with both pain and lust. When she
finished, my breasts where pink and swollen, my nipples again hypersensitive
long nubs.

Snap. Brittany put down the camera and leaned forward to whisper to me,
"remember the rules, my slut." I did not even see the first blow land. A
blinding fire of pain crossed my chest as the small lash slapped across the pail
skin of my breasts. I screamed out in pain. Brittany announced, "You forgot to
thank my friend for the lash, and you screamed out without permission. You have
earned two additional lashes."

I thought that I would die when the lash hit my breasts again, catching the
nipple flush. I bit my lip to endure the pain, then whispered, "Two, thank you
for lashing me." Brittany toyed with the plug in my ass, wiggling it and
twisting it. With her other hand, she toyed with the lips of my pussy and
enjoying my reactions.

Slap

"Three, thank you for lashing me." This was unbearable. The sales girl would
allow enough time for the pain to recede, allowing me to feel the enormity of my
excitement and sending me skyrocketing towards an orgasm. Then she would hit me
again, chasing away the orgasm with the return of the blinding pain.

By the time we finished number seven, I was certain that all of the skin had
been whipped off my precious breasts. Tears streamed down as the pain slowly
turned to a hot, hot burning throb. Brittany stopped toying with me. She ran her
finger up my thigh to mid-level, than lifted two fingers to my eyes to show me
how much of my love juice had leaked down my leg. She then reached up and
released my hair from it's suspension. I was a raw bundle of nerve endings.

"On your knees, slut! Now you will show your appreciation by sucking off my
friend." I struggled to kneel down on the hard concrete floor while my hands
were still locked behind me. The sales girl quickly removed her skirt to reveal
a finally trimmed slit that was already leaking from arousal. She sat on the
edge of the desk and pulled me forward with my ponytail, mashing my face into
her crotch.

Fearing another punishment, I quickly got to work. I licked the wetness off her
nether lips. She tasted different than Brittany, not as sweet, with more of a
musky scent. As I reached her clit she started bucking her hips wildly into my
mouth. She held onto my pony tail tightly, smothering me with her pussy. I
flicked my tongue as quickly as I could. She came violently, moaning and
thrusting like a bronco. I sucked in her clit and she came again. Her orgasms
drove me wild with need. I gently chewed on her clit, using my tongue to flick
the very tip. She was rolling into her third straight orgasm. She had to push my
head away to calm herself down. I landed hard on my back.

I laid there on the floor, panting, with pussy juice all over my mouth and
crotch. Brittany knelt down next to me, lightly rubbing my cheek and cooing,
"You are a good slave. Good slave. Yes...." And as she stroked me and reassured
me, I felt like an owned woman, a slave, a slut. I felt nothing like the
powerful woman I thought I was just a day ago. And I never felt more alive.

(to be continued)

A Slave To Politics
Part 4
by SpeechMasterOne

I lay panting on the cold concrete floor, my breasts burning and red, my nipples
hard and throbbing, my whole body shaking with a kind of tension I had never
encountered before. My hottest, wildest dreams of submission had not come close
to the intensity and sheer power of the last 12 hours or so.

This is all wrong. I am rapidly losing control of my free will. I am losing
grasp of the life that I have worked so hard for. I have no idea what is in
store for me, except that it will include more humiliation, and more sexual
torture and more violations of my body and mind.  My brain is screaming out that
this is bad. But another part of me, a part that I had only explored in my
lonely fantasies and dreams, was not only screaming that this was good, but it
was growing stronger, and I am afraid it is taking control.

Brittany is not giving me a chance to think my way out of this. She commands me
to stand. I struggle with my hands still locked behind me. The sales clerk dried
herself with some tissues and smoothed down her skirt, all the while amused at
the sight of my horny body struggling to stand.

Finally standing at attention, Brittany tells me, "Dry off the goo from your
face and cunt. Put on the second outfit. Then bring the others to the front
counter. I expect you outside in two minutes."

The sales girl unlocks the cuffs and saunters up to the front with Brittany. I
grab the tissues and wipe off my face and crotch. I quickly change into the new,
preposterous outfit. The top is a spandex white shirt that is so tight that I
struggle to fit it around my firm breasts. The skirt is a black, spandex item
that covers only the very top of my thighs. My glance at the mirror screamed of
sex. My breasts looked large and round, with my nipples hard as little fingers
pointing forward. You could even make out every detail of my tiny little bra.
The skirt showed off my tight ass and my runner's legs, and the heels defined my
calf muscles. I turned away to keep from eliciting unwanted tears (or maybe to
keep from getting too aroused yet again...I am not sure of anything now).

I gather the clothes and trot towards the front counter as quickly as the heels
will allow. I made it just in time. Brittany hands the clerk my credit card. As
the clerk hands me the packages, she tells me "See ya soon, fucktoy!"

I carried the packages as we walked to down the mall to our next destination.
The mall is becoming packed and I felt as if all eyes were staring at me. Boys
would stop talking at start following us from a distance, making lewd comments
just loud enough for me to hear. I was relieved when we turned into the food
court.

She picked up two salads and sat at a table that was closest to the escalators.
She sat down and started to eat her salad while I stood next to her, waiting for
some indication that I could sit. Everyone stared at me as I stood there for
long minutes.

"You may sit now my champion cunt slut. Keep your legs open. You have a choice,
now...you can eat without the use of your hands, or you can starve until the
next time I allow you to eat. Believe me when I tell you that you will need your
energy...I have been too easy on you so far!"

I was stunned. Too easy? I can't imagine my life getting any more difficult. And
i can't believe that I have to eat like a dog from this dish, with everyone
watching. Yet the fear of punishment snapped me back to my new reality.

"Yes, Miss Brittany."

I leaned forward and started chomping on the salad. As long as I kept my eyes
pointed at the dish, I could almost forget where I was and what I was doing in
front of all of these people. The salad was not big, so I finished in relative
speed.

"May I wipe my face, Miss Brittany?"

"Not yet. Grab a napkin and follow me into the ladies room."

I quickly followed her, carrying my bags and struggling to pull the hem down to
hide my charms. I was a beacon to everyone's eyes. I wanted to scream at them to
mind their own business. Or tell them to help me stop this devil girl.

She pulled me into the large handicap stall. "Watching you being such a slut
today has me very horny right now. Here are your choices, my little slavee. You
can wipe your face, get on your knees and eat me until I say, or walk around
with the dressing all over your face for the rest of the day. And to tilt the
scales, I will also require you to wear these," she said as she held up a pair
of wicked looking nipple clamps.

The choice was clear. "May I lick your pussy, Miss Brittany?" Even as I asked
the question, my I could again feel the waves of both revulsion and excitement
rush through me.

"I thought that you would never ask," she said as she lifted her skirt and
pulled down her thong panties. I wiped my face, knelt down and braced my arms on
her thighs. I dove in, working her cunt with the care of someone who was scared
to death to get whipped. She was definitely sweeter tasting than the sales
clerk, and in a warped way I appreciated her for it. I worked as fast and
furious as I could, fucking her hole with my tongue and flicking her clit in an
effort to get this over with as quickly as I could.

"Slow down, slut. I know that you love my pussy, but you need to take the time
to worship it. If I cum too soon, you may still have the honor of wearing the
nipple clamps." So I slowed down, using my fingers to pull apart her lips as I
jabbed and swirled my tongue into her pussy. For over 15 minutes, I worked her
pussy, slowing at her order when she was getting too close to cumming.

All the while, people were entering the rest room. It was all too obvious to
anyone who entered what was going on in our stall. Shame spread through me as I
heard horrid comments from these women as they left.

When she was finally ready, I unleashed a fury of licking and sucking to make
her cum. Her orgasm was thunderous, yet she was able to keep her noise down to a
surprisingly low level. She was pulling on my ponytail, holding me tight to her
pussy as she humped hard into my face. Then she came again. And again.  My face
became drenched and my jealousy raged.

Finally she came down from her high. "You are becoming quite a cunt slave. We
will definitely share your skills with others. Lots of others. But i get ahead
of myself. Help me up, and let's get over to the shoe store. And don't wipe your
face. I like the look of 'face paint' on that beautiful face. I am sure everyone
in the mall will as well. Come on, let's not doddle."

My knees ached something fierce as I struggled to get to my feet. The "face
paint" comment shot another dagger into my soul. Not only did she make me lick
her, (which I can't believe I will ever enjoy) but now I must display her juice
on my face like some kind of badge of dishonor. I wanted to yell to everyone I
passed 'I Am Straight; I Am Not A Lesbian; I Am Not A Slut!!!'

I felt so humiliated as we strolled the promenade, everyone passing by noticing
the slut with wetness on her nose, mouth and chin. I happened to glance down and
I noticed that some of the juice had dripped onto my top. It just kept getting
worse.

I thanked God as we finally arrived at a women's shoe store.

The place is quite busy. The shoes are a bit cheap and are meant for the
younger, dance club crowd. Brittany grabs several pairs of platform heels,
stiletto heels, and high heel leather boots. She commands me to sit down and we
wait for sales lady.

"Bring each of these in a size 8 1/2 please."

As we wait, Brittany leans over, "accidentally" brushing my sensitive nipples.
She whispers, "I want you to keep your legs open as you try on the shoes. I also
want you to push your chest out whenever possible. Show as much of yourself as
you can without getting me in trouble. You are to keep eye contact with the
sales girl at all times."

"Yes, Miss Brittany."

I was shaking. She wants me to act like a slut in heat to this perfect stranger.
And was she perfect. The sales lady was in her mid twenties, blond, blue eyes,
tall and thin with legs that did not quit. The thought of exposing myself this
beautiful girl was not only humiliating me, but making me wet again. God, don't
I have any control over my body?

As she sat down, I separated my knees, exposing my wet pussy to anyone giving me
more than a passing glance. I thrust my chest out as the clerk takes out the
first pair of shoes and turns towards me. You could see the shock in her face.
She stopped cold for several seconds. yet I had my mission, and did not want yet
another punishment. I slowly lifted my right leg in offering. She could not help
but see my wet slit as she removed my shoe and slipped the platform heel on.

Repeating this with my left, I stood up. I had not realized how high these heels
were. I must stand six feet one, maybe six feet two with these outrageous heels.
I wobbled down to the full-length mirror. My legs looked as long as redwoods,
focusing attention to all of the curves and muscles in my legs. What's worse, it
made my skimpy outfit look even skimpier.

The smile on Brittany's face showed she was pleased with the enormous heels.
"What do you think?" she asked the sales girl.

"Fine", the clerk mumbled.

"I am sorry, I could not hear you."

The sales girl spoke up, "They look fine. They are definitely appropriate. Does
she always dress like this?"

"She is a sex slave, my personal fucktoy. She enjoys dressing like this."

My mind was screaming. 'This Is Not True. She Is Making Me Do This. HELP ME!!!'

"Wow, I never met a lesbian slave before. She is very beautiful, in a sluttish
kind of way. What is that on her face?"

"She is wearing my love juice on her face. She loves licking my slit," Brittany
smiled triumphantly. "Well, if you ever want to see more of her, just let me
know," Brittany said as she winked at the girl. "We would like this pair and the
matching pair of boots." She handed the girl my credit card.

I stood there in front of Brittany, choking back the tears of humiliation. Why
can't I do anything? I feel so helpless. When the girl returned with my receipt
for signature, she handed me a tissue to wipe my face. Brittany nodded, and I
wiped the tears and wetness from my face. Some of the juices had begun to dry.
Brittany whispered for me to write down her phone number on the receipt, just in
case. I kept my eyes staring straight into the clerk's eyes, and you could see
both her embarrassment and her intrigue.

Brittany pulled a chain out of her purse and hooked it to the front of my
collar. She yanked it as she walked out the door. With bags filling both hands,
tears rolling from my eyes, my hips swaying and my tiny little outfit barely
hiding my charms, she led me like a dog down the length of the mall and through
the parking lot. At her command, I put the bags in the back seat, lift my skirt
above my ass cheeks, and sat down on my seat. Some of my juices from the ride in
had dried on the seat.

We said nothing to each other as we drove home. The events of the day were so
overwhelming that I sobbed, the recollection of each and every event so
shameful. By the end of the drive, it was late afternoon and I felt more
settled.

Once we settled into my house, she told me to lie on my back on the bed. She
tied my wrists together and secured them to my headboard. She repeated the
effort with my ankles, attaching them to the end of the bed. She then threaded
it under the small of my back and around my waist. She secured each end of the
rope to the bed frame to either side of me. She then grabbed the strap in my
ponytail and tied a rope to it, then attached it to the headboard. I could
barely move.

"I am going to allow you a couple hours of sleep...you are definitely going to
need it for tonight. But don't worry, I won't let you get to lonely, my slavee
pooh!"  She then pulled a blindfold over my eyes and strapped it tight behind my
head. She then placed earphones over my ears. I could feel her pulling another
strap around my head, pulling the earphones tighter. Several seconds later, the
sound of Brittany's voice filled my ears.

"You are Miss Brittany's sex slave. Miss Brittany owns your body. You will do
anything she asks, without hesitation. You will give your body to her anytime
she wishes. You will serve her in any way she commands. You will not speak
unless spoken to. Any violation will mean painful and prolonged punishment. Miss
Brittany enjoys that you hate many of the things she will do to you or require
of you. Only Miss Brittany's pleasure matters. Again, only Miss Brittany's
pleasure matters."

"You are Miss Brittany's sex slave. Miss Brittany owns your body. You will do
anything..."

I struggle to get free, to strip these headphones off of my head. I am tied so
tightly that my prolonged struggles are in vain. I try to think of something
else and keep my mind strong in an effort to resist her obvious attempt to
brainwash me.

"You are Miss Brittany's sex slave. Miss Brittany owns....." Finally my
exhaustion catches up to me and I quickly fall to sleep, while my subconscious
is repeatedly pounded by this message.

(to be continued)

A Slave To Politics
Part 5
by SpeechMasterOne

His penis was huge. It must have been at least nine inches long and amazingly
thick. As I road this faceless stud with wild abandon, his penis seemed to touch
every part of my insides. We fucked like animals, grunting and sweating, the
passion escalating to a fevered pitch. The sensations were beyond description.
This was not lovemaking. This was pure animal need.

We could not stop. The fucking went on and on, yet neither of us could cum. We
switched positions, having him fuck me doggy style, then on my back with my
ankles at my ears. Still, the passion rose. Still, no orgasm. I was crying from
the frustration as I humped and humped and humped.

Suddenly, I saw Brittany sitting in a chair next to the bed, smoking a cigarette
with one hand (funny, I don't remember her smoking before) while the other hand
was rubbing her clit.

"Please, Mistress, please help us cum. We are going to die from fucking if you
don't help us. Plllleeeeeeeaaaaaaasssssseeeeee!!!" I screamed out between the
pounding and the erotic tidal waves of pleasure.

"Silly, cunt, don't you understand. I want you to die fucking. It makes me so
hot. Beg me some more and maybe I will allow you to cum before you die." She
said as she stubbed out her cigarette.

I was transfixed with watching her rub her clit in little circles, while her
free hand snaked under her blouse and started squeezing her breasts, pulling her
nipples. She stared at me the whole time. I continued to fuck my brains out,
slowly losing my sanity as I watched Brittany approach her gigantic O. I
screamed out in total frustration just as she hit her orgasm.

"PLEASE LET ME CUM. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE. CAN'T YOU SEE THAT THIS IS KILLING ME!
PLEASE....."  All the while she came and came and came for what seemed like
hours as I fucked away in my frustration.

Suddenly I shot awake as I felt Brittany's hand stroke my hair. She smiled down
at me as she comforted me and hushed my screams. "You were having quite the
dream, my toy. I am not sure what it was all about, but you certainly were loud
about it."

It was just a dream! It was both wonderful and horrible all at once. It was
heaven and hell in the same place. I was still tied to the bed, although my head
was now free and the headphones removed. My skin shimmered with a thin layer of
perspiration and my heart was starting to slow from the race it was running.
Brittany untied me as I lay their, recovering from the mind-crushing dream.

"Get up. Now. Change the sheets. You have soaked the bedding with you slimy fuck
juice. I want you to take a shower, apply your makeup again, change into the
clothes I have laid out on the chair, and meet me in the kitchen. You have 20
minutes. I have installed hidden cameras all throughout the house. I will see
your every move. So don't try to bring yourself off. Now hurry up, you are
eating into your time."

The clock said it was now 7:30 p.m. My God, I must have been sleeping for hours.
Brittany marched out of the room as I started my struggle to get up. Groans
escaped my throat as I could feel everyone one of my muscles ache, probably from
being tied up for so long. The bedding was soaking wet under my drenched skirt
as I sat up. I groaned again as my weight added pressure to the butt plug.

I stood up on shaking legs as I balanced on the heels. I glanced at the time.
Shit, I only had eighteen minutes remaining. I rushed to the closet and grabbed
new sheets. I worked quickly to strip the bedding and replace with the new
sheets.  I discarded my drenched skirt and my sweat soaked top and bra and set
everything in the hamper. I slipped out of the heels.

7:37. Time was my worst enemy. I could feel a need to pee, but I had no time. I
rushed into the shower. The hot, soothing water instantly relaxed my stressed
body. As I washed, I purposefully avoided my sensitive nipples and clit. I lost
my self in contemplation about Brittany. She had been so quiet and aloof when we
met. I must have mistaken that for shyness. The little girl I had noticed in her
was still there, but in a much different way. She did not need the mother figure
I had intuitively offered. How could I be so wrong?

What she needed was a toy to play with, much like a cat playing with a mouse.
And what does the cat do when the mouse no longer provides entertainment value?
It kills the mouse. This thought woke me out of my daydream. I avoided getting
my hair wet as I rinsed and stepped out of the shower.

7:44. I am going to be late. I can't take another punishment today. I quickly
applied makeup and rushed into the bedroom to change. Lying on the bed was a
collar, a boned bra that had a round hole in the center of each cup two to three
inches wide, garter belt, silk stockings, and the new black stiletto heels. I
had to hurry up.

7:49. I buckled the strap of the last shoe, stood up, and hurried down the hall.
As I negotiated the steps I felt more naked than if I had no clothes on at all.

7:51. I entered the kitchen just one minute late. I knew I was in trouble as
soon as I caught the scouring look on Brittany's face. "You are late. You will
be punished for your disobedience. Now come over here, cunt toy, and present
yourself." I walked over and stood next to her.

She shook her head in disappointment as she noticed that the bra was stretched
to its limits. "You stupid slut. Your slut tits should stick out of these holes.
Let me show you," she said as she grabbed the nipple of the right breast with
one hand as she held the bra cup against my chest with the other. I groaned and
gritted my teeth as she pulled the nipple forward, causing my breast to squeeze
through the hole until the bra squeezed the base. She repeated with the left
breast. When she was done, my breasts where squeezed into balls of skin, capped
with long angry nipples. Though the pressure was not bad it was constant and
restricting. They looked exaggerated in size and firmness and where sensitive to
the touch.

She then reached down to my bald pussy and flicked my clit a couple of times.
Instantly the clit pushed past it's hood and stood erect and throbbing with
excitement. I could feel my wetness, and I again felt embarrassed and ashamed.
It is amazing how she has such complete control over my body.

"Is my little cunt toy wet and ready again? Look at how large and hard your clit
is. It must be so sensitive and uncomfortable. Maybe if you are a good slut
tonight, do everything I say, your clit will get the attention it wants and you
will get the orgasm you so desperately need," she gleefully announced as she
pulled her hand away and wiped her fingertips off on one of my breasts. I was so
horny again.

"Now you may have the yogurt and dry toast which I have placed on the counter.
Drink the entire glass of water. You must kneel by my side as we eat. You are
then to wait until I am finished." I grabbed everything and kneeled in place.
"May I start with my meal, Mistress Brittany?"

"Yes," she answers without looking my way. My hunger consumed me and I was
finished as quickly as I started. The glass of water was in a pint glass, and I
downed it without even thinking.

"Drink another glass. Hurry up, we don't have all day."

I was not sure if she was testing me to see if I would slip up again and earn
more punishment. "May I stand and fill my glass at the sink, Mistress Brittany?"

"Yes"

I filled the glass and emptied it again. She orders me to drink a third glass.
It took much longer, since I was no longer thirsty. When I was finished, she
asked me to stand beside her. She turned me around and handcuffed my wrists
together. Pulling a chain out of her pocket, she clipped it to my collar and led
me out of the kitchen, down the hall, toward the basement door. A panic set
through me as I watched her reach for the basement door. Nothing good could
happen down there. I hesitated, causing her to jerk the leash to yank me through
the door. My resolve started to crumble as she led me down the stairs.
Everything was amplified; the click of my heels on the wooden steps; the rapid
beat of my heart; the tears that tried to force their way past my eyes; and the
slow drip of my pussy.

My basement is extremely large, separated into two spare bedrooms, a laundry
room, a large workroom (were my husbands huge tool collection has collected dust
over the past couple of years), a large game room and an adjacent media room.
The wood flooring of the hallway amplified the sound of my heels. She led me to
one of the bedrooms, one that acted as my workout room. It was outfitted with
ceiling hooks, ropes and pulleys. This devil-girl has been busy.

She led me over to a thin, raised bench. The padded area had a 3-inch gap in the
middle. The padded surface on the top was just below with were my hips and waist
met. I was shaking. "Spread your legs wide," she ordered me. "Wider!"  My feet
must have been more than three feet apart. I felt her lock on a set of padded
ankle cuffs, and then she secured them to a set of hooks I saw mounted in the
floor. Where did those come from?

Surprisingly, the handcuffs were unlocked and removed. She reached back on a
table by the door and grabbed a strange looking leather sheath with laces up one
side. "Now hold your hands together behind you, palm to palm, and don't let go."
She slipped the sheath up my arms, and buckled it in place with straps that
reached over my shoulders. She then started to pull the laces tight. I grunted
as my arms were drawn towards each other. Closer and closer. Until my elbows
finally met.

She tightened the laces until I thought she would pull my shoulders together
behind me. It hurt, but was it was not unbearable. She readjusted the shoulder
straps so that it erased all slack. My breasts, already bulging out from
constricting bra, now were thrust forward much further. I knew that they must
look like two irresistible toys to Brittany.

From an overhead pulley she pulled down on a rope, which she then secured to a
ring at the bottom of the leather sheath encasing my arms. Throwing me a wicked
smile, she pulled slowly on the rope, pulling my arms up behind me and forcing
me to lean over the padded bench. My arms were wrenched back into a painfully
awkward position, forcing my chest horizontal to the floor. I could not imagine
it could get worse than this. I had no idea how wrong I was. She tied a short
piece of rope to my hair tie, and secured it to my upper arms, forcing my head
back.

"My, oh my, what a sight you are," She said as she stepped back to examine my
totally helpless and prone body. Slowly she touched the curves and crevices with
her finger, using that feather-like touch which she is a master at. "Hold on,
this will work better," she stated, moving over to a large bag on the floor and
taking out something I could not see. But Oh Geez did I feel it. A feather.

"You have the most magnificent legs. Your calves are so strong and defined," she
cooed as she tickled the back of my leg. "Look how toned your hammys are, and
how tight and round your ass is." I was grunting and wiggling from the intense
sensations. This seemed to only spur her on. She ran the feather down my other
leg, concentrating around the junction of my butt and my legs, and behind my
knees. She giggled every time I jerked or moaned. "You have the most delectable
body, my toy. You should be ashamed for not working hard to share it with
others." The feather trailed along the sides of my torso. My abs and back
muscles involuntarily tightened wherever the feather touched, causing my
tormentress to giggle.

"I am going to ask you some questions. You will answer every one truthfully and
completely. If I think that you left anything out, or have fibbed to me, then I
will add to your punishment tonight." All the while she was driving me crazy
with that fucking feather.

She started peppering me with questions. "How often did you and your husband
fuck? What was the kinkiest fuck you had with your husband? What do you find
disgusting?" I answered immediately and completely, trying to avoid additional
punishment.

She flicked the feather over my whole body, raising my sensitivity tenfold. "Who
was your best friend from college? Who is your worst enemy? What do you
fantasize about?" From time to time she would stop for a minute and take a
series of pictures. Then she would resume. That damn feather! 

It was increasingly hard to answer with her concentrating on my nipples and
clit. She gradually built up my excitement, bringing me closer than I have been
all day to my desperately needed orgasm. Yet she skillfully manipulated the
feather to keep me from kicking into overdrive. I also felt pressure build on my
bladder. I wasn't even thinking now, just responding. "What is your bank code?
What is your computer security code?"

Her questions went on endlessly. The feather was the center point of my
universe. Every time it gently flicked over the raging erection of my clit, my
whole body vibrated like a guitar string. My breathing was shallow and sweat was
dripping off my body. She toyed with my overloaded body for what I later learned
was almost two hours. It seemed like two months.

"Oh fuck toy, you are so fun to play with. I never imagined that you were such a
horny slut. I bet that you are the horniest cunt on the face of the earth at
this very moment," she announced with a final flick of the feather. And she was
right. She had me so wound up that the only thoughts in my mind were about my
need to cum. I was hoping for a heart attack or stroke or something to end the
never-ending torment.

Now that teasing had ceased, I became exceedingly aware of my expanded bladder.
I needed to pee almost as bad as I needed to cum. I could not believe that I had
turned into this. My arms ached. My back, neck, legs breasts ached. And oh how
did my nipples, clit and bladder ache.

I was so out of it that I did not even notice that she had again dipped back
into her evil bag. She showed me the set of nipple clamps, which she held up for
my perusal She opened and closed them in a teasing fashion before finally
clipping onto my distended nipples, both at once. Never had my nipples felt so
much pain. I screamed and screamed until the pain dulled a touch. She then
showed me a set of fishing weights. With a laugh, she hooked these onto each of
the clips, then dropping them. I screamed again. "You hesitated in answering my
questions 3 times tonight, so I have added a three pound weight to each of your
nips. You should really appreciate them as I whip your legs. One more thing; I
know that you are feeling quite full with urine. If you let even a drip slip by,
you will earn additional punishment"

I trembled, both from fright and from the sustained sexual excitement. And I now
felt the full force of my overloaded bladder, causing great discomfort as I
struggled to hold it in. She toyed with me more, running what felt like a paddle
up and down my legs.

Without warning, she smacked the back of my left leg, causing me to flex in
pain. This started the weights rocking back and forth from my poor nipples. I
heard a faint little voice in the back of my mind say 'count.'

"One....thank you...for....spank....ing....me," I choked out.

"Good salve. You are learning well," she said gleefully

Slap. Behind the right leg.

"Two...oooo....thank you for....spanking...me."

I was racked in pain as she continued with the remainder of my eight strokes. I
struggled not to scream from the frustration and pain.  I needed to pee. I
needed to cum. I needed to die.

"Okay, my little cunt licker. I will let you pee, but only after you lick me to
two orgasms." She had removed her skirt and was standing on a small exercise
step. She jammed her pussy in my face. She must have been exceedingly horny. Her
juices coated my face and she came in half a minute. I sucked on her clit trying
to coax her to her second cum as quickly as possible. I did not have long to
wait. Her second was stronger than her first. She screamed out her orgasm. Her
reaction only added to my frustration.

She finally stepped away. My bladder was close to bursting, yet I waited for her
to release me so I could use the toilet. But she made no move to release me.
Instead, she left the room and returned with a large party bucket, the type that
I used to chill up to case of wine.

"Go ahead, pee," she commanded. I could not. Not like this. No matter how much
my bladder hurt, I would not pee standing here like this. "You either pee now,
my cunt slave, or I plug your hole until the morning," she giggled as she
flicked the weights on one of my nipples. I groaned and realized that I was at
her mercy. I relaxed and felt instant relief as my pee splashed into the bucket.
Some of the backsplash hit my legs. I was mortified. And I was relieved. And
again, I was grateful to her. This is quite the warped world she has created for
me.

Once the last of my pee trickled into the bucket, she removed it. She pulled
another set of ropes from the same ceiling pulley. She pulled one end under me.
Wrapping it above my breast and around my back, under my arms. She repeated this
several times before tying it off. She pulled on the other end until I could
feel it supporting part of my weight. She added several inches of slack to the
rope pulling my arms, releasing the aching tension to a much more manageable
level.

She brought a small fan, which she set on a short stool. This was placed between
my legs. She plugged the fan in and turned it on to its lowest setting. I had
not noticed the she had two feathers attached to the fan by thin strings. The
fan would blow the feathers wildly around, erratically brushing my inner thighs,
vulva, that area in between the sphincter and the vagina, and my tortured clit.
The air from the fan started to slowly dry my juice even while my pussy pumped
out more. Being so hypersensitive, the touch of the feathers and the gentle
breeze of the fan were keeping my nerve endings on full alert.

She removed the nipple clamps, causing me to yell out in pain from the rush of
blood. This gave her the opening to push a red ball into my mouth and strap it
tightly under my ponytail.

"I am tired now. You have no idea how tiring it can be to play with my toy. If
you are a perfect cunt slave tomorrow, you will get the opportunity to cum.
After all, what good would you be if I break you. Now try hard and get some
sleep." She said as she pet my forehead and kissed me on the cheek.

For the second night in a row, I would be in continuous excitement. I again
started to cry as I thought that this might be my life as I forever know it.

(To Be Continued)

A Slave To Politics
Part 6
by SpeechMasterOne

It just keeps going. My mind is unable to rest, unable to stop reacting, unable
to think about much of anything but my throbbing sex.  I am so prone and
vulnerable, my hope for someone or something to end this torment almost
obliterated. I feel so alone.

After several hours, the fan and the feather irritate my skin. Every touch rubs
on the raw nerve endings in my thighs and between my legs. That is, except for
my clit. It seems to be thriving from the feather's attention. In fact, it seems
to take over for my brain as the control center of my body. Each time the
feather flutters over my erect nub, it shoots powerful sensations throughout my
body. Even with my limited mobility, my body tries to follow the feather as it
flits away. My body is hot, with a light gleam of sweat covering those areas not
accessed by the fan.

And I am tired. I am finding myself starting to nod off, only to be awakened
every time the feather dances across my clit. Finally, my clit loses the battle
and my mind shuts me down into a fitful sleep. I faintly remember waking up and
being lead upstairs by a leash. It seemed more of a dream.

When I awake, I am lying on the bed, naked except for the collar and my wrists
cuffed behind my back. The light from the windows illuminates the naked curves
of my mistress. I stare at the ceiling, hoping for a few minutes for myself
before Brittany starts with me today. I need the rest.

Unfortunately, I am provided little time to contemplate. Brittany wakes up and
leans over to me. Without a word, she uses her fingernail to lightly scrape one
of my areolas and nipples. Sparks shoot through me. My nipple stands up in rapid
attention. I am shocked at how quickly my body is reacting to the simplest of
touches.

She continues to toy with me, playing with my nipples, and then running her
finger up my neck and around the collar. She traces faint lines behind my ears,
along my cheekbones and over my lips. The sensations are making me horny again.
I hate how she has such command over my body.

Her finger roams down my chest and tight stomach. She traces a sensitive line
around, then over my pouty, swollen pussy lips, which are coated with my dry
fuck juice. She flicks her fingernail over my clit, the enormity of the
sensations causing me to jerk violently. She flicks me a few more times, quickly
bringing me to highly aroused level. She stops as I pant and moan in need.

"Now, lick me. Be a good little pet and take your time...we have all morning,"
she said with a wicked grin. I adjusted myself, which was difficult with my
wrists cuffed behind me. Lying between her legs, I start lightly licking her
pussy lips. I work methodically, licking everything. I follow my instincts,
knowing what I like. I nibble here, lick there. With desire, but without
enjoyment, I bring her to a level of pitched excitement, and then start sucking
on her clit. This sends her skyrocketing into orgasm. After her blissful peak
and a long recovery period, the cycle starts again. I bring her to five gigantic
orgasms for over two hours. My body aches, especially my neck, jaws and tongue.
I am exhausted.

"Every morning, you will masturbate yourself to the brink of orgasm and then
stop. You will then wake me up by licking me to orgasm. Unless, of course, I
have you tied up in some delicious position. Now go take a shower...you smell
like such a slut. Make sure you shave everything closely. And hurry up, I have
an exciting day planned for you," she said as she unlocks my cuffs. I move as
quickly as my achy body will allow. Everything seems to hurt. The hot water of
the shower soothes the aches and allows me to escape my predicament for a few
minutes. When I run my soapy hands over my nipples, it sends erotic pulses
throughout my chest. And it is even more intense when I shave my pussy. I want
to frig my clit to get that orgasm I so badly need, but I am even more afraid of
the punishment. I reluctantly pull my hand out of my crotch and turn off the
shower. I pull myself together as I dry my hair.

Entering the bedroom, Brittany finishes laying my clothes out on the bed. "Step
over to the mirror'" she ordered. I tremble as she cuffs my wrists together in
front of me, and then attaches them to a chain that was hanging from a hook in
the ceiling directly over the full-length mirror. I had never seen the hook
before, so it must be some of her demonic handy work. She pulls me high enough
that I have to lift my heels off the floor. Using her feet, she nudges my legs
about 2 feet apart, causing me to stand even higher on the balls of my feet.

She walks around me, assessing my body, still damp from the shower and
erotically stressed from this morning's teasing and the activities of the past
few days. Maybe from fear or from anticipation of more teasing and punishment,
my nipples immediately pop erect. And I can feel my clit grow and throb. I
marvel at how quickly my body betrays me now. I am turning into such a slut.

"You look so beautiful," she purrs as she runs her fingers over my breasts. "You
are coming along much quicker than I had anticipated. I thought that it would
take at least a week, but look how quickly I have taken control of your body.
Despite how hard you fight it, your body now listens to me."

And she was right. As she talks, her fingers dance over my body, running up my
arms and down my neck, over by belly and along my thighs. Within seconds, my sex
starts dripping. Despite every effort to keep from getting excited, I can do
nothing to stop her from heating up my body. After several minutes, I am
panting.

"Open your eyes and look at how I control this body. Look at how it is a toy -
my toy - to play with, as I like. Watch,'" she purrs as she toys with the lips
of my sex, tickling them, massaging them. The reflection haunts me.  I see
myself, yet I have never seen this person before. The body in the mirror is
glowing with erotic need; breasts have swelled, vagina has opened like a flower,
all puffy and oozing, chest rapidly expanding and contracting, hips gyrating. I
can see the sexual strain pulse through every muscle.

She stops as I near my peak. The flash blinds me as she snaps off a series of
pictures, making sure not to get any with her reflection in the mirror.

She allows me to cool down as she changes into her workout clothes. I can't help
but stare at her reflection in the mirror, her proud breasts swaying gently over
her thin torso as she pulls on her sports bra; her tight ass flexing as she
pulls up her thong, followed by her stretch pants.

Finished dressing, she unlocks my wrists. "Put these on. We are going to the
gym, where I will instruct you on your new workout regimen," she said as she
points to the workout clothes lying on the bed.

The sports bra and the lycra pants cling like a second skin. I can see the
outline of my swollen sex without and it looks obvious that I am not wearing
underwear.  Once the shoes were laced, I feel some what normal again.

Brittany is sitting at the table eating her cereal. She pours milk into a second
bowl and sets it down on the floor. "Eat quickly, my pet," she said as she taps
the floor with her sneaker. Scared of being punished, I kneel without hesitation
and stick my face in the bowl. I am so hungry that I almost inhale the small
portion of cereal she had laid out for me. It is only when I finish eating that
I think of this humiliating position. The dread washes over me again.

We hustle out to the car and start our drive to the gym. "Let me explain how we
are changing your workouts. I have admired how lean and strong you are, though
you overestimate your conditioning. I want you stronger with more endurance and
flexibility. And I love the look of strong women. I never told you that did I?
Anyway, I want you to build more muscle in you ass, thighs, calves, shoulders,
etc. You will need the added strength for the rigorous activities you will be
required to perform. I went easy on you last night because I knew that you
lacked the strength and endurance. We will remedy this through changes in your
diet and workouts."

That was easy? I am fearful of what would be a normal session!

"We will workout for 2 hours everyday - 30 minutes free weights, 1 hour stair
master, and 30 minutes stretching. You will give me maximum effort, or I will
severely punish you. Repeated offenses will send you straight to jail and I
spread your pornographic pictures to every person living in this city," she says
matter-of-factly as we pull into the gym parking lot.

For the next two hours, she nearly kills me. I had always worked out at a high
level, but nothing like this. She concentrates on my shoulders, chest, triceps,
hamstrings and abs today, introducing me to heavy weights and something she
calls "super sets." She explains that we will alternate days, working on the
back, lats, biceps, thighs, ass, and calves tomorrow. By the time we are done, I
believe that my chest and shoulders will explode. I look in the mirror and I can
already notice the slightly enhanced curves of my shoulders and arms.

Next comes the stair master. Although I run hard 4-5 days per week, I realize
that I am unprepared for the stair machine. Brittany sets the machine for an
extremely high level, pushing me to my limits. The muscles in my legs and ass
are killing me, and my lungs are screaming for more oxygen. I am a wreck by the
end of the workout.

We move to an un-used aerobics room, where she assists me with my new stretching
routine. Believe me when I tell you that this is not what I consider routine
stretching. She helps me into positions that stretch the muscles that we
concentrated on today. We move to stretches help me spread my legs wider, bend
my back further, and pull my elbows together. Using yoga techniques, she helps
me use my breathing to stretch my muscles much more effectively. She is
certainly knowledgeable.

We stop by the juice bar, where she grabs an orange juice for her and a low fat,
high protein shake for me. She also grabs a high protein nutrition bar for me. I
am feeling so hungry that the shake and protein bar are completely scarfed by
the time we reach the car.

"Take off your stretch pants before you get in the car," she requests as she
opens her door. I freeze-up. What if someone sees me? What a cruel bitch she is.
Humiliated, I take off my pants as quickly as possible.

Naked except for my sports bra, socks and sneakers, I pull on the door handle.
It is locked. I pull again and again in a fit of growing panic. "Open the door
before I am seen. You must open it." Then I realize I have broken her rules.
Shit, not only am I humiliated beyond belief, but I now know I will be punished.

She smiles as she hits the automatic lock button. I jump in the car and shut the
door, all the while staring down in defeat. "What number of strokes are we up
to, slut?" she asks.

"Nine, Mistress," I respond.

"Correct. We will take care of that a little later. I beg you to break more
rules so I can add ten more," she grinned wickedly. "Here is your final workout.
You will do this everyday on your drive home after your workout. You will stick
your fingers into your pussy. You will then squeeze them as tightly as you can
with your vagina muscles. Squeeze for five seconds, relax for ten. We will start
today with my fingers. Each time I don't feel you squeezing, I will add a stoke
to your punishment. And knowing how much of a slut you are and how excited you
will probably get, you should remember not to cum without permission. Go ahead,
start your workout."

She dips two fingers into my already lubricated pussy. I struggle with the task,
working hard on muscles that I never consciously attempted to use before. She
wiggles her fingers every minute or so, torching my sex with excitement. By the
time we are nearing the house, I was grunting in an effort to squeeze.

Her hand withdraws as we pull to a stop. She lifts her hand up to my lips and I
knew what she wanted done. I licked my fuck juice off of her fingers until she
is satisfied. I do not even mind the taste on her fingers, though the act still
sends a wave of repulsion through me. As I get out of my seat, you can see the
shimmering puddle I had left.

"Lick up that mess before you come inside, fuck toy"

Being almost completely naked, I had no desire to show my wears any longer than
I had to.  I lick up my mess as quickly as possible. How low have I sunk?

Brittany was waiting for me in the kitchen when I returned. "Bend over and grab
your ankles," she commanded. With a wooden spoon, she proceeds to stripe my ass
nine times. Being a bit tender from my previous punishments, I had to work to
hold back my tears and count the strokes. But how it hurt.

"You may go and relieve yourself. Then report to the bedroom for further
instructions."

I dared not sit, both from her previous instructions as well as pain from my
still stinging ass. I walked as quickly as I could to my bedroom. "Put on these
clothes and do all of the chores which I have on this list. Be done by 6:00 p.m.
Anything left undone, or done half-assed, will bring on more punishment. I will
be watching from the computer, so be a good girl." With that, she marched out of
the room.

Lying on the bed is a skimpy maid's outfit. I struggle with my stiff muscles to
strip out of my sports bra and sneakers. I change into the tiny black dress,
which is made of stretchy material. It also has built-in support for my breasts,
much like a wonder bra. It takes some effort to get into. My breasts are
squeezed together and up, causing them to nearly pop out of the plunging
neckline. I will have to be careful. I tie on the tiny little white apron, wrap
the white choker around my neck, then roll up the fishnet stockings and attach
them to the garters hanging from the inside waistband of the dress. I lock on
the patent leather stiletto heels

My reflection tells volumes about who I have become. I see a sex slut staring me
dead in the face. The skirt is so short that you can see the tops of my
stockings. If I bend over, my red ass and bald pussy are on full view. And the
dress did nothing to hide my semi-erect nipples.

The list is long. I must clean dishes, scrub the kitchen and bathroom floors,
clean toilets, wash the windows, wash the clothes (both hers and mine), change
the sheets on my bed and several other things. I have no time to waste.

The hours stretch on as I work. My arms and legs are dead tired and ache with
every move. Yet I speed through my tasks, and I expect to finish everything on
the list, with time to spare.

Every click of these outrageous heels, every time I bend and expose my sore ass,
every time a boob pops out the top of my dress, and each and every time I catch
my reflection in a mirror, I am reminded of the sex toy that I have become. The
competing forces inside me leave me paralyzed with confusion. The way I look,
the way I am treated, the utter helplessness of my situation is keeping me
buzzing with unwelcome arousal. This is wrong. It is not moral. I am ashamed. I
have never acted this way, or felt this way before, so my arousal is not my
fault, it is Brittany's. Or is it?

So even if she is taking control of my body, I can still keep control of my
mind. I will become strong again and not allow her to penetrate my psyche
anymore.

I knock on the open door of my home office. Brittany waves me in and commands me
to kneel by my desk. She continues to work on the computer as I kneel quietly.

"Do you want to see this terrific new web site? Come here and see this thing,"
she said with girlish excitement. I look up as she navigates the computer screen
to a site called "mylesbianfucktoy.com". She clicks through the password section
and starts clicking on the thumbnail pictures.

"Look at this one," she said. It looked familiar for some reason. It was a rear
view of a bent over woman. You could not see her face, but you could make out
her gaping sex and her plugged ass.

"Look at how hot this one is," Brittany says as she opens another photo.  This
one features a woman, her face digitally scrambled, with her wrists secured
above her head, her proud breasts and long erect nipples being paddled.
Something familiar struck me about the picture.

"And look at this one," she said as a third photo loads on screen. This is in a
shower. I see the back of a thin, sexy woman with her hands locked over the
shower head, and an enema tube sticking out of her ass.

Then, like a freight train, it hit me. These are pictures of me. I let out a
loud gasp and starting crying.

"I see you recognize the star," she asked while clicking open more photos. "This
site has already received over 125,000 hits in just one day. Don't worry; this
is not open to the public. You have to buy a membership to log on. What a real
moneymaker you are, by the way. All the money is being credited directly into
your money market account." She clicks open an endless stream of humiliating
photos, each one showing in detail my humiliating slide into depravity. Despite
my best efforts, she is stealing my soul.

With her free hand, Brittany reaches down the front of my dress and starts to
massage my right nipple. All the while, she keeps showing me photos of my
dripping pussy, my smacked red ass, my clamped nipples, etc.. Even while I cry,
the photos and the manipulation of my nipple has me excited in no time flat.

"Do you remember this one? This was the last time you came. That must have
seemed a year ago, fuck toy," she said with obvious joy as the picture of my
fucking the dildo on her window popped up on screen. The picture was
devastating. What an evil girl.

"Pet, I want a few more for today. I want you to lie on your back and play with
your pussy and clit. I want you to get real excited, but you are not to cum
without permission. Make it last" Wiping away my tears, I lie on my back and
lift up my dress. Brittany's video camera is set up on the tripod, poised to
catch my every action. My pussy lips are already soaked as I use two fingers to
slowly finger fuck myself. Brittany watches me for a while as I work my sex. I
heat up to a boil in just a few minutes. In short order, I am grinding my hips
into my hand and panting like a bitch in heat. I need to cum so bad I am about
to have a total melt down. Yet she keeps me going. I fight the urge to cum. The
punishments hurt so badly, I can't take another round today. My need is tearing
away at my will. I fight with every ounce of energy. I feel dizzy with need. I
feel light headed. Before I know it, Brittany is leaning over me, splashing cold
water on my face.

"Wow. You are full of surprises. You passed out on me. You are certainly an
entertaining fuck toy, aren't you?" she asked mockingly. "Go take another
shower. Remember, no cumming. I am just looking for an excuse to show your face
in these pictures and send a note to the media. Wouldn't they enjoy seeing your
hot, nasty body? I did not even get a chance to show you these video clips."

"After your shower, I want you to apply a conservative amount of make-up and I
want your hair done up nicely. We are going out to dinner to a very fancy place,
and even though you are a slut, inside and out, I don't want you to embarrass me
by looking like one tonight. Hurry up, we are leaving at 7:00 pm."

I finish my shower quickly, avoiding my sex and nipples to keep from
distraction. I do my hair and apply my make-up, then enter the bedroom. Brittany
is waiting for me.

"Before you put on your dress, I have a few items for you to wear." She grabs my
left nipple and toys with it. My tit is so sensitive that even the briefest
touch sends it to full erection. Once she is satisfied with how large it is, she
takes out a tiny rubber band and places it over my nipple, wrapping it around
the base. It is not painfully tight, but it will keep the nipple fully engorged
and hypersensitive. She repeats this with my other nipple. She hands me a
beautiful lacy 1/4-cup bra. Once fastened, my breasts are lifted high on my
chest with my nipples pointing the way. I glance at the mirror, and with my tits
presented as they are, I look like a sex doll.

She then asks me to step into a tiny little g-sting. As she pulls it into place,
I notice a small, flat device, which she carefully places over my clit.

"Now put on the dress and the heels and meet me down stairs. We are running
late."

I slip the black dress on. It is beautiful, conservative number made of silk. It
fits me perfectly, not too tight, but enough to show off my curvås. When I bend
down to fasten my heels, I feel my sensitive nipples rub the fabric, and I
almost scream out from the intense sensation. Geez, this is going to be another
long evening. The heels are about four inches; very manageable in comparison to
the stilettos I have been wearing lately.

She hands me my purse as we rush out to the car. Each step causes my boobs to
move, rubbing my nipples in a soft, tortuous dance. My slit is wet and I will
have to fight hard to keep from getting my dress wet. Before we start out of the
long driveway, she takes a small box out of her pocket. She thumbs a switch and
slides a lever. My panties jump to life, silently vibrating my clit. I squeal
out at the intensity and my hands grip the seat as if I might fall off. She
thumbs down the control to a low, constant buzz. I look over to her, begging for
mercy with my eyes. She flicks the device off and starts the car. I find my
breath and start to comprehend what I am in store for today.

Without any conversation, we pull into Reflections, a restaurant with beautiful
fountains and waterfalls. It is the place to be if you want to network with the
rich and powerful. She could not have picked a more compromising place.

"You are to introduce me to all of your friends in the most flattering terms
possible. You will address me as Brittany until we leave. You will do everything
I ask. Do you understand?"

Yes, Mistress," I meekly respond. The valet takes the car and the maitre' de
greets me at the door as an old friend. I introduce him to Brittany, a very
talented young lady whom he should get to know. On our way to our table, I stop
here and there, saying hello and introducing Brittany with all the charm I can
muster. All the while, my nipples keep brushing the silky material. I wonder if
everyone in the room can see my fat nipples poking my dress or smell the arousal
leaking from my pussy.

We sit along a far wall, with me sitting with my back to the wall. It is a
semi-secluded spot, private enough to hold discrete power conversations but
public enough to still be seen my the other elite diners.

The menu and wine list are delivered, and as soon as the waiter leaves the
table, I feel my clit start to vibrate. It is a low hum, enough to rev my engine
but not enough to blow my gaskets. My body temperature rises along with my
arousal. I struggle to order when the waiter returns. Brittany orders me to
clasp my hands behind me as she watches me. She engages me in conversation about
work as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening. She is cooking me in my
own sexual stew and she acts as if this is just a normal business dinner.

She flips off the vibrator as we eat. Once we finish, she quietly orders told me
to take the small pair of thumb cuffs from my purse. I am to pull my hands
behind me and cuff my thumbs together. It takes a bit of struggle, but I do as I
am told.

So here I sit, my mistress using a remote vibrator to speed me towards the brink
of orgasm, then stopping just in time to keep me from achieving the painfully
needed cum. A light sweat beads my forehead and my chest as I struggle to keep
my composure. She slowly works on the bottle of wine that we had ordered,
talking to me conversationally about this and that. And she plays with that damn
switch. On again. Off again. On again. Off again. I am struggling not to moan.
My breathing has quickened and I wonder if anyone notices. Every breath rubs my
excited nipples. Panic rises up as I realize that I am about to lose my mind.

(to be continued)

A Slave To Politics
Part 7
By SpeechMaster


A slight, smug smile can be seen as Brittany worked her evil magic with this
wicked device. She knows what a spectacle I can make of myself if I did not
maintain control. I just want to rip my clothes off and fuck something,
anything. The throbbing in my clit is so intense that it is now painful. I fight
for my breath. My hips gyrate in slow, uncontrollable small circles. Please God,
help me fight this. I can't embarrass myself in like this. My life will be
ruined.

I was lost in my feelings when I heard my name being mentioned. In my fog I
heard Brittany contemplate desert, toying with the switch as she stared at me
while making up her mind. I held my breath so as not to give my condition away
to the waiter (like my huge nipples did not give it away already). "No, I think
we will have desert at home this evening. Please bring the check."  I finally
could breath, though it does nothing to quell the four-alarm fire raging between
my legs.

She is unrelenting on the fucking switch. After a few more cycles of this
torture, I am ready to completely give up. Just as I start to give a loud, hardy
voice to my moans and start begging her to allow me to cum, Brittany stops the
vibrator.

"Do you feel okay? You are not coming down with a fever, are you? Poor baby,
maybe we should get you home now," she coos as she leans forward and swabs my
sweaty forehead with her hand, never losing her wicked little smile. She leans
in a bit further and drops the key to the cuffs into my bound hands. After
several minutes of nervous struggle to unlock my thumbs, I finally spring them
loose.

"Let's go."

My dress is soaked in the back from the free flow of juices. Thank God the dress
is black. My legs are shaky and I clearly look flushed. I am so humiliated.

Once in the car, I just want to crawl up into the fetal position, hugging my
shaken body. But as I have already learned, Brittany is insatiable with her
games. "I want you to play with those huge captive nipples of yours. Keep going
until we get home."

I do not mean to constantly overstate the issue, but I cannot come close to
explaining how sensitive my nipples and clit are at this very moment, or how
each additional sensation feels so extreme, or how my mind is collapsing from my
urgent and inescapable need. I groan and scream out my lust as I play with my
nipples. I want so bad to beg her to make me cum. This is what hell must be
like.

By the time we arrive at my residence, I think that my chest will explode.
Devastating as it is, I know that I will do anything to end this torture. Once
inside, Brittany orders me to strip down to my bra, heels, and clit vibrator and
stand with my hands clasped behind my head and my legs spread apart. Juices are
literally leaking down my legs.

"Hmmmm. You seem a little excited my pet," she purrs as she runs her hands
lightly over my body. The light touches are driving me wild.

"Frustrated, are we? Well, we will test your resolve. If you want to cum this
evening, then you will do everything I want, and beg for it like the
bitch-in-heat that you are. Hesitate once, or fail to convince me of your
sincerity to please me, even once, and I will play with you all night and not
allow you to cum. Do you think that you can hold on to your sanity that long? Do
you want to try?"

Her hands find my huge, distended nipples and she flicks them. The sensation is
so powerful that my knees give for a split second. I let out squeal; followed by
the horniest moan I have ever heard. She left the room for a few seconds and
returned with the camera and her bag of toys. She set up the tripod as she
explained things.

"First, I want you to beg me for permission to masturbate your ass with this,"
she said as she reaches into her bag and pulls out a six inch dildo with a
curved handle on the end. It looks huge. It will hurt like hell. But I am past
rational thought. I need to cum at all costs.

"Please let me fuck my ass, Ms. Brittany. Let me use my ass for your pleasure.
Let me show you how sexy I look fucking it. Please let me please you. I will do
anything to please you!" I nearly scream.

The smile on her face is beaming as she tosses the dildo my direction, as well
as a tube of KY. "Go ahead, pet, I give you permission to fuck your ass. You
will take your time and get in several positions so I can get views from many
angles. And don't let your fans down," she says as she points towards the
camera.

I am mortified. Yet my desire easily won out. I grab both items and lube the
dildo. I turn away from the camera, bend over the couch, braising myself with
one arm, while the other hand reaches back with the dildo. With a painful grunt,
I force the dildo into my ass. Brittany (and the camera) has a terrific view.

"Turn your face to me. I want to see your face the entire time. And I want you
to talk to me, tell me how you feel, how much you want to please me and how
badly you want to cum."

I don't want to talk, but I have no choice. If I don't convince her, she will
torture me. I know I can't take anymore. "I am such a nasty slut. I am fucking
my ass for you. It hurts, but it also has me turned on," I say as I painfully
plow the dildo in and out of my ass. Brittany starts to slowly unbutton her
blouse, exposing her lacy bra and beautiful cleavage. Her breathing has
increased, so I can tell I am having an affect on her. Then she pulls out the
little remote control, and flips the switch. The vibrations shoot through my
clit like a Mack truck. I nearly collapse to the floor.

"OH GOD. OH GOD. OH GOD," is all I can say as she teases my throbbing clit. She
finally flicks off the remote. It takes a few moments for me to get my head on
straight again.

"This is degrading, fucking myself in front of you. I need it. I need to cum. I
feel so low. I feel like a common slut..." The words just flow without even
thinking. The pains are lessening and the feeling is become oddly erotic. I
babble on and on without giving thought to what I am saying.

And I watch intently as Brittany sensuously strips down to nothing but her
matching bra and thong set. Her sexy heels set off her long legs beautifully.
She sits in the chair and starts teasing her nipples. For minutes on end, she
watches me rape my ass while she pulls roughly on her tender nubs.

"I want you on your back, your ankles tucked up nicely near your ears, while you
continue with that tight little ass of yours. Hurry up now," she demanded. I
scramble to the floor, pull my legs back and stuff my ass with the dildo again.
I am so exposed to Brittany.  The humiliations keep coming as my profane
diatribe rambles on endless. I feel less than human. It feels as if everything
has been stripped from me, even my soul. I am doing this as much out of my
insatiable need as from the threats of punishment and blackmail.

Brittany has slips a hand under her panties, her breathing quickening and her
body undulating in her seat. The excitement of this bizarre situation is driving
her nuts. She unsuccessfully tries to control her sexy body. With her free hand,
she starts toying with the remote switch, bringing me to the edge over and over
again. We have been at this for so long that my ass is getting quite raw and
sore, and my pussy is dribbling juice down my ass crack. I am no longer speaking
in coherent sentences, just grunting and spewing out nasty words like a turrets
victim.

Finally, she came in a screaming orgasm that seemed to shake the house. I was
raging with jealousy. That should have been my cum.  Unknowingly, I was taking
out my anger on my poor asshole. Brittany had not given me permission to stop,
so I just kept working my sore sphincter while I watched her recover.

She gathered herself and reached over to the camera, turning it off. "You can
stop now, my horny little sex toy. Crawl over here." On shaky arms and legs I
gingerly crawl over to her chair. She reeked of sex. It was driving me crazy.

She stood up and grabbed some items from her bag. She kneels behind me and
attaches a thick collar. This forces my head to tilt down 45 degrees. I cannot
move it up or down, or side to side; I am forced to stare at the bottom of her
chair. She locks leather cuffs to my wrists, then pulls my wrists up and locks
each to my collar. With my arms pulled so high up my back, the position is
extremely uncomfortable. She then proceeds to lock cuffs just above my elbows.
With a bit of effort, she locks my elbows together, causing me to groan out in
extreme discomfort. My chest is already sore from the killer workout today. This
position forces me to curve my back and thrust my chest out.

She hooks a leash to the collar, grabs her bag of toys and leads me, on my
knees, up the stairs and into my bedroom. She commands me to stand and helps me
out of the g-string/vibrator. My wetness is leaking all the way down my legs.

"Get up on the bed. I want you to crouch like a baseball catcher."  After some
maneuvering, I am in the position she is happy with. My feet are wide apart, my
knees are up towards my shoulders and my ass is almost touching the bed. She
sits on the bed and rubs my long nipples. She snaps two clamps down hard on my
poor nipples, causing me to wail in pain. My whole body shakes. When will all of
this stop!!!

Brittany then moves to the wall and grabs a rope, which is connected to a series
of pulleys above the bed. She has been terribly busy, hasn't she? The rope
lowers from the pulley to a spot just above my head. She grabs the 18-inch long
elastic band, which connects the clamps, and she pulls upward. I have to lift
myself up quite a bit to prevent her from tearing my nipples off of my chest.
She attaches the hook in the rope to the elastic band.

Stepping off the bed, she goes back to the wall and pulls on the rope. I have to
lift up further. My thighs are parallel with the bed straining to maintain the
position. She secures the rope and walks back to her bag. She takes her time to
zip up a leather mask on her face. She sets up the camera again, switches
cassettes, and starts recording.

"You look great, slut. But I want to prove to you, once and for all, how much of
a slave you are to me. Right now, you are so horny that you would tear out your
eyeballs just to cum," She snickers as she pulls on a harness with a strap on
dildo. "I am going to let you cum, but you will have to work for it. And when
you are done, I will own you, mind, body and soul."

She climbs on the bed and in between my legs. She sits with the humongous dildo
right under my pussy. She locks a belt tightly around my waist. "Lower yourself
a bit, will you pet?" She positions the dildo to the mouth of my slit.

Two more elastic bands hang from either side, which she pulls down and attaches
to the sides of her harness. While she pulls, she forces me to impale myself on
the top of the huge dildo, splitting me wide open. This also causes my nipples
to stretch a bit.

"Here is your challenge. You can fuck yourself on this wonderful dick. Lucky for
you, it never gets soft, so you can go at it all night, if you want. I will just
lay here and enjoy the show."

I looked at her for several seconds, trying to figure this out. I squat down
further, piercing my cunt with the huge plastic shaft. God that feels right!

But my nipples are painfully stretched. I lift up a bit, lessening the bite on
my nipples but causing more strain on my thighs and back. My body then takes
control, squatting up and down, fucking her dildo. The shaft is so thick that it
pulls my pussy lips in and out, yanking on my engorged clit with every stroke.

With this collar, I can only look down. Brittany lies there, doing nothing to
help my effort, just toying with her nipples as she watches me struggle to gain
a sustainable rhythm.

Though I am tired and sore from the tortures of this surreal weekend, my body
can feel the orgasm build. I mindlessly squat up and down, up and down, the pain
of my stretched nipples just fueling my excitement. Brittany must be feeling
this to. She is breathing heavy and pulling harder on her own nipples.

I can feel the orgasm approach. Out of a dark corner of my mind, I remembered
her instructions. "May...your....sl..slut.....c...c...cum,
Msssss.....Brit.....tany!" I panted.

"That's a good girl. I thought that you would forget. I will let you cum in 25
more strokes on Mr. Big here. If you cum before that, you will be punished and
your face will be exposed on the web site. If you don't cum on the 25th stroke,
we will stop for the evening and you will do without."

I can't believe what she is telling me. I struggle to hold back my Mt.
Everest-sized orgasm while continuing to pound myself on this monster. 10....oh
this is so hard...15...I can't hold it...20...I scream out...23...24...25."
Finally!!!

I let go of myself and was rewarded with a cum that was so immense and violent
that I thought I would have a heart attack. I scream out as I shake and spasm.
My eyes see nothing but white explosions and my brain pounds from the overload.
I can't find my breath as my body writhes in pleasure. The orgasm goes on and on
and on. Every muscle convulses. My mind is shattered and I believe I am going to
pass out.

And yet, my body wants more. I notice that I am starting to ride the dildo
again, at the expense of my wobbly legs and aching nipples. I have to stare at
Brittany as another orgasm hits, then another, each one piling on top of the
first. Brittany smiles her wicked smile, getting off on the pressure I am
creating as the dildo hits her clit on each down stroke. We both know that she
does not have to say a word; my body is speaking volumes. She owns me. In that
second, her orgasm hits her hard. Yet she never loses her wicked grin as she
slams the dildo up into my defenseless cunt.

She grins with pride as cum after cum racks my spasming body, driving me harder
to the next cum. I am addicted to the feeling, filling all of the empty spots
and the parts of my soul that Brittany has taken from me. She has just stolen my
life from me.

Despite everything, I keep fucking. And cumming

(to be continued)

A Slave To Politics (part 8)

By SpeechMaster


Brittany is unrelenting and tireless in her use and her control over me. She
continues to challenge the outer limits of my endurance, both physically and
mentally. She makes me extremely horny all of the time and then manipulates my
need to make me beg for more. She now makes every decision.

After several weeks, we have established a routine. Every morning, I wake up to
my alarm. I masturbate my clit until I am on the verge of exploding. It takes a
tremendous amount of willpower to stop; yet I must or be severely punished. I
usually roll up into a fetal position until the painful ache of my clit
subsides. My nipples and clit seem to be perpetually aroused and sensitive.

I then crawl into Brittany's bed, pull the covers from her sleek body, and start
to lick her pussy until she awakens. I work slowly, as she demands, and bring
her to several powerful orgasms. She loves to watch me slave away on her bald
sex.

I scamper off to use toilet, if she gives me permission, and then draw her bath.
I make the bed and straiten up the room. She then has me join her in the large
tub. I wash her with my bare hands, enjoying her smooth skin. She enjoys rubbing
soap into my long hard nipples and my smooth, shaved pussy. Over the last few
weeks, Brittany has taken me to have my pussy hair denuded by electrolysis. It
is now as smooth as a baby's bottom

I help her from her bath and dry her gently with a big, fluffy towel. Still
dripping wet, I help her make up her hair and make-up. She enjoys being pampered
by me.

I then get myself ready as she puts on her outfit and selects my things for the
day. Brittany demands that I keep my skin as soft as possible, so I coat every
exposed inch of my body with expensive lotion. My make-up and hair are done as I
always have, so I don't attract any unwanted attention at work.

My clothes are my usual conservative affair. But what is underneath can get
quite radical. She will have me wear any one of an assortment of fetish bras.
Several of her favorites include a lace bra that covers my entire breast, except
for the nipple. The lace squeezes and rubs my nipples all day long, driving me
nuts. Or the bra that has a small vibrator which sits right over my nipples. Or
the one she used the first weekend that squeezes my breasts into tight balls of
flesh. Once, she had me wear a chain necklace, and attached nipple clamps to the
necklace, which caused my nipples to be pulled every time I twisted or walked.

She would have me place a very flat little box over my large, erect clit.
Several thin straps held it in place. This was a device of her own invention
that I have learned to hate. It constantly monitors my temperature, heart rate,
blood pressure, etc. Through experimentation, Brittany programmed it to indicate
exactly when I was about to cum. It would then shut off until the next random
time, when the damn thing starts up again. From 9:00AM to 5:00PM, this thing
would torture me, bringing me to the brink of orgasm anywhere between 5 - 12
times per day. Through the use of what Brittany called bluetooth technologies,
the device constantly sends signals to my computer, adjusting itself throughout
the day as my condition progressed.

Because I am stewing in my own juices, I have to flip back my skirt while I sit
at my desk, and I cover my seat with hand towels. I also have to dab the goo
from my pussy frequently.  My overheated body also sweats as the day goes on. By
the end of the workday, I am a leaky, horny mess. Brittany demands that I drink
at least 2 quarts of water during work to keep from dehydrating. This has an
added benefit to her since I must ask permission to go to the bathroom. She
sometimes has me squirming for hours with a full bladder.

She keeps me in respectable 2 or 3-inch heels, again to keep from drawing
attention in the wrong places. Brittany is careful to keep up appearances and
have me keep one foot in normal life.

Breakfast is always brief. Brittany is strict about what I eat. Over the past
few weeks, the low fat, high protein diet, in combination with my killer
workouts at the gym and our nightly "activities", has transformed my body.
Before, I was proud of my body. I was strong and sleek, with strong legs and
abdomen from my running and sit-ups. Yet now, I was quickly growing muscles
everywhere; in my back, shoulders, arms, legs, etc. After a workout, you could
see the definition of my muscles. Don't get me wrong; I don't look like one of
those huge women bodybuilders. But my ass is tight and muscled, my waist has
lost 1/2 and inch while my chest has gained 3/4 of an inch, accentuating a "hard
body" hourglass look. And since Brittany is working out with me, her body is
getting nice and tight as well.

We travel together to work, which seems an obvious thing to do since she rents
an apartment on my property. Once at work, the evil little device begins its
torture on my poor body. Throughout the day, Brittany will stop by and smile as
I whimper and groan from the frustration.

During lunch, she will toy with me by showing me the latest additions to the
porn site she has set up. It has turned into quite the little money making
venture. I have no doubt that Brittany will make herself rich at almost anything
she set her mind to do.

Because of the nature of my job, I will meet with important people throughout
the day. Brittany will turn down the clit stimulator during these times, keeping
me excited but not bringing me up to the edge of orgasm. I am thankful for these
occasions.

The totality of this has me out of my mind by the time we leave work and drive
to the gym for the workout. The skimpy little workout clothes I am allowed to
where clearly outline my erect nipples and puffy labia. After the weights, stair
climber and the stretching, I am exhausted. First thing I do when I return home
is to make both of us a fruit salad, washed down by a high protein shake.

The one constant every evening is that I will be naked and teetering on the edge
of orgasm for hours on end. Sometimes we will be alone, and sometimes she will
invite other people into the mix. Around others, Brittany has me wear a leather
hood, which completely encloses my head. It has holes for eyes, nose, mouth and
ears, but hides the rest of my face and all of my hair. The mask locks in place
with a wide leather collar and a small padlock. I hate the mask, but I have
grown to appreciate its use in keeping my identity hidden from others.

Brittany and her friends are insatiable. Her imagination is without end. Let
paint a few pictures for you of my evenings of servitude and degradation to give
you an idea of how evil she is.

One evening, she led me into the entertainment room in my basement. She ordered
me to strip while she collected her things and made a few muffled calls from the
office. I was trembling as she entered the room with her bag. She pulled my
leather hood in place, locking the connecting collar shut and tight, and then
securing a blindfold over my eyes to keep me in total darkness. She locked
padded wrists cuffs to my wrists and attached them to cords running from the
ceiling. My arms were pulled widely apart above me until I was straining on my
toes. She then fastened cuffs to my ankles and attached a cord to each. She
pulled outward on one, then the other ankle, until my legs were spread at least
four feet apart. This is where my stretching and lifting has paid off for her.
She was able to string me as tight as a crossbow, pulling me until I was hanging
by my wrists and stretched so tight that I was left with no slack to wiggle or
move.

She started playing with my body, using her maddening feathery touch to bring me
up to the boiling point. I was grunting from the strain on my over-stretched
body and from my building frustration. It is amazing how a day or two of sexual
frustration will turn you into a needy animal.

I next felt her attach a heavy ring like clamp to one of my long, rock hard
nipples. She pinched the tip of my nipple and stretched it severely away from my
chest. As she did this, she slid the base of the ring further down my nipple.
She tightened the base until it caused me to screech in pain. She repeated the
process with my other nipple. My breasts throbbed and my breaths were rapid and
shallow. I then felt her rub my clit, bringing it to its unnaturally long and
stiff condition. She used tissues to dry my clit, and then she pulled one of the
clamp/rings over my clit. She stretched the clit until I screamed out my pain.
She slid the ring against the base of my clit, and then tightened it. My God
that hurt. When she let go, I could feel the weight of the clamps hanging on my
nipples and clit, causing a deep throbbing that was moving from pain to a
constant discomfort. I could feel her attaching wires to each clamp, all
connected to a small box that was strapped to my collar.

Just then I heard the doorbell ring. For some reason, it was at these times,
when I was helpless bound and meticulously prepared for a long night of sexual
torture with Brittany and her friends, when I felt most alone and truly
helpless. After about twenty minutes, she escorted her friends down stairs. The
sexy, trembling, helpless slave suspended spread-eagle before them caused all
sorts of cheers and excited comments. I felt so embarrassed, being so obscenely
stretched out and leaking juices out of my clamped hole. I could smell the wine
and popcorn as they filed around me.

"Ladies, this is my slave cunt. Slave cunt is an excitable slut. At the drop of
a hat, she would make herself cum repeatedly if her hands weren't bound. We are
here this evening to teach her some self-control.  In my hand is a remote
control with two slide controls. Let me show you how this works. This one is for
her huge nipples," she said as she moved the slide upward. I could feel the
clamps start to vibrate. After several seconds, I could not help but moan and
tense my body. The sensations were shooting from my very sensitive nipples
straight to my clamped clit, causing it to throb. I then felt it stop.

"Then there is this one," she giggled as she started the clit clamp to vibrate.
The feeling was purely electric. The clamp buzzed my clit, exciting my little
nub and causing me to moan in lust. The girls giggled at me as I struggled in my
tight suspension.

"And here is what happens if you slide both controls up," she demonstrated. Both
my nipples and my clit were on fire. In just about a minute, she turned me into
a lowly, moaning, wiggling slut. A powerful orgasm started approaching. Just
before it hit, she slid both levers off.

"So here is the contest for the evening. Both controls have 10 levels. Every
second that you have a control on a level, it will tally that number in a
running total on the computer over there. Each of you gets 10 minutes with the
controls, and we will give slave cunt here 5 minutes to rest in between
sessions.  You can't touch her, and you can't make her cum. Violating either
rule will disqualify you and you will be sent home immediately. Whoever has the
most points at the end of the evening will be the winner. It will cost each of
you $50. The winner will not only collect the pot, but will get 1 hour with this
gorgeous, hanging slut, all to themselves in private. Please pick numbers out of
this hat to determine the order."

As I heard them moving about, I was yet again lost in the realization of pitiful
existence. They did not care about how this would drive me insane. In fact, they
were making my torment their entertainment, and there was nothing I could do
about it. Or maybe there was. If I could act a bit and achieve my orgasm by
surprise, I could end this game and send each of them home. Of course, I had no
idea that Brittany had set up the same program which monitored my vital signs
with the clit vibrator which I wore at the office everyday. Each person in the
room would know how close I was to orgasm at any time.

Everything quieted and you could feel a thick tension in the room. I then felt
my nipples start to vibrate. My clit started to buzz as well. The sensations
drove me crazy with lust. I could feel my orgasm approach, and I did my best to
fool them into believing that I was nowhere close. Right as I was about to hit a
mind-splitting orgasm, the buzzing stopped. I groaned loudly in frustration as
the girls laughed at my condition. The controls were moved to a low level,
building the heat much more slowly this time. I could not believe how incredibly
horny I was becoming. My breathing was short and shallow, my body was tensing
and I was emitting a constant sluttish moan that was just audible to the
audience.  This unknown girl drove me right to the edge again, only to shut off
the controls.

I lost it and started begging to cum. I needed to cum so bad. My sex zones
throbbed so hard that it hurt. Yet the girl kept playing. She revved me back up
again, but did not bring me to the edge, thankfully.

"Stop," Brittany yelled. "Out of a possible 12,000 points, you scored 3,346. We
will start again in five minutes."

I could feel sweat beading down my skin. And I could feel a steady flow of
juices flow out of my pussy and down my stretched thighs. I must have been some
kind of sight.

Before I knew it, the room hushed and the buzzing started again. The level was
not at it's highest. The girl played with the control to keep me excited but not
bringing me to the edge. I moaned uncontrollably. It seemed like an hour, but
time was called after 10 minutes.

"Contestant #2 has 5,190 points. Good work. We will start in five minutes."

My body ached fiercely, and I had no idea how many more times I would go through
this.

The next girl played with the switches, and talked with me to distract me. She
demanded that I tell her about the last movie that I saw. Through my moans of
lust and my panting, I did my best to describe the movie and answer her
questions. Near the end of this session, she had me so close to the edge that my
voice was cracking and I could not make intelligible statements. I finally
started babbling about my need to cum. When she finally stopped, I thought I was
going to have a heart attack.

"Contestant #3, you have scored a whopping 7,944. Outstanding."

And on it went. Each girl became more creative. One girl scored extremely high
by having me describe the things I hate most, like my least favorite foods and
the ugliest person I have ever seen. That girl scored in the low 8,221.

But it was the last girl who won. She simply walked up to me and whispered "If
you cum, I will find out who you are and I will whip you until you bleed to
death. You have 9 1/2 minutes to hold it back. If you think that I am joking,
just try me." Her voice was so menacing and evil that, despite my overheated
condition, a chill raced down my spine and my skin felt a cold breeze. For the
next ten minutes, she put the controls near their highest levels. Within minutes
I had to cum so badly I did not even breathe. I was so scared that I fought with
everything I had not to cum. She whispered in my ear a few times to renew her
threats, each time the punishment for an orgasm more horrendous then the last. I
was screaming for permission to cum. This was the worst pain I had ever felt. My
body was shaking with need.

But I survived. "And the winner, with 9,339, is contestant #6! Congratulations.
You win $300, and you get an hour with this slave cunt. Here are the rules...no
water sports, no permanent marks, and you can't ask her anything that would
reveal her identity. Help me release her and we will take her into the play
room."

My hands and feet were numb from the restraints. I was dripping with sweat. I
hurt so bad from the torture they inflicted that I was crying. And I was
begging. I would do anything to cum. I kept begging and begging. My mind had
snapped, and all I could think about were the overwhelming signals of need my
body was sending to my brain. I screamed out when the clamps were removed. They
helped me into the playroom down the hall, which had been converted from my
workout room into a sexual playroom. They laid me on the bed and left the room.

The winner took the time to tie me face up on a wide padded bench. Everything
but my head was supported. My arms were secured to the legs of the bench, and my
legs were secured wide apart. My body was stretched tight as my head hung over
the end. I soon felt a hairy, smelly pussy pressed against my face. "Lick me
good, or I will hurt you something fierce." She smacked a strap down hard on my
flushed and prone breasts. I screamed into her pussy as I started to lick. I ate
her out as though my life depended on it. She would occasionally hit me with the
strap if I momentarily lost concentration. She came over and over and over
again.

And to torture me further, she would lean over from time to time and flick the
strap across my engorged clit, which stood up past my bare labia like a mini
cock. Each time I would scream into her pussy. The vibrations of my scream must
have been driving her crazy, because she would moan loudly every time I had to
scream.

She finally had to take a rest. She lay on the padded bench next to me, running
her fingers along my sweat-drenched skin. She leaned down and would flick
fingers her around my oozing pussy lips. She would occasionally flick my clit
with her tongue. She said I was built for sex, that I was the sexiest piece of
ass she had ever laid eyes on. She was so turned on by how horny I was that she
laid on top of me in a bit of a 69, with her legs standing on the ground while
her body laid over me. This caused my neck to bow back unnaturally. But she had
little care for my comfort. I started licking again while she played with my
sex, keeping me buzzing with my need to cum.

Finally, after several more orgasms, her time was up. She dressed and left the
room. Even in this uncomfortable position, I found sleep in a matter of minutes.

Or there was the night that she threaded a strap into my hair in a ponytail. She
tied my wrists together, and then pulled my elbows together until she could tie
them together. She had me lay down on the floor, where she attached padded cuffs
to my ankles. She attached cords to the cuffs. Using the pulleys she had
installed in the ceiling, she pulled the cords, pulling my legs off the ground.
Little by little, she pulled my legs up and apart, lifting my ass off the floor.
She kept pulling, lifting me on to my shoulders. She pulled until I was
suspended off the floor. When she stopped, my legs were pulled almost into the
splits. She attached another cord to my wrists, and then pulled the cord through
a pulley above and slightly behind me. This pulled my arms up and caused me to
bend backwards, thrusting my chest out further. She then tied a ten-pound weight
to the strap in my hair, keep my head stationary.

As you can tell, she enjoys suspension. This had to be the most helpless I have
ever felt. My pussy was so vulnerable and I could barely move a muscle.

For the rest of the evening, she played with my upside down body. First, she
licked my pussy until I was on fire with need. After over an hour of this, I was
begging with need. She then grabbed some ice cubes from the freezer upstairs and
proceeded to pop ice cubes into my pussy. It immediately brought my excitement
level down and numbed by pussy and clit. Once a couple of cubes had melted, she
started licking again. Her tongue felt like it was burning me. Then the ice
again. Then the tongue. Each time she licked me, she would stand in front of my
face, which was the perfect height to lick and suck on her cunt. She came
multiple times. My tongue was tired and worn out after several hours of this
torture.

Again, she had taken complete control of my soul. I was shaking and crying and
begging for her to stop. Then I begged her to let me cum. I could not stop my
mind from thinking about what a cunt-licking, cum-begging, slut-slave I had
become.

To vary my reactions, she would coat a finger with my juice and slide it into my
asshole. She would then finger fuck my ass for a while, shooting erotic
shockwaves throughout my body. And she would also stop to grab the hated
feather. She would tickle me for a few minutes, causing me to convulse in fits
of laughter. My body would strain to the breaking point. 

When she was exhausted, she grabbed a huge, ten-inch dildo, turned it on, and
jammed it into my pussy. She then sat back in a chair and watched me build
towards a gigantic orgasm. When it hit, I screamed out so hard that my voice
became scratchy. Yet she sat back and watched as the first orgasm receded and a
second one ripped through me. As a third hit me, she got up, patted me on the
ass and said, "I'll be back in an hour or so. Have fun." I screamed out to her
as she shut the door behind her.

Although it was only 15 minutes, it felt like 15 days. Orgasm after earth
shattering orgasm rocked me to the center of my being. They just would not stop.
I lost my voice I was screaming so hard. Finally, my body and mind could not
take any more and I passed out.

And all of this is just the tip of the iceberg.


(to be continued)

A Slave To Politics (part 9)

By SpeechMaster


I am panting, struggling for a steady breathing motion that will never come. My
muscles strain, tugging and pulling and jerking in spasms of primal lust. A
gleam of perspiration coats my perfect skin, dripping beneath me in a slow,
steady flow. Worse of all, my clit is painfully erect, glowing with an angry red
color as it is teased and teased and teased without relief. Hours upon hours of
torment and struggle.

Brittany is training me to perform a new trick. My legs, due to weeks of
flexibility training, can now be pulled back behind my shoulders. My wrists are
pulled around my legs and secured by a length of rope behind my back. Each of my
ankles is tethered to a 10-foot length of rope, which are secured to the walls
on either side of me, preventing any lateral motion. The only thing that I can
move is my head, which is the evil purpose of this training.

My owner (I have come to realize that she now owns me, no matter how much I hate
that fact) has not allowed me to cum for four days now. She has teased me
relentlessly. I have been begging and shaking with need without mercy. Now this
Friday evening she methodically ties me in this position and starts to tease my
clit to a powerful level of excitement. She knows that I am most accommodating
and submissive to her demands when I am pulsing with need and insanely
frustrated.

She brings me to the brink of orgasm, then pulls back. She then brings be to the
edge again, the backs off. I grunt and moan and beg, but to no avail. Over and
over and over, using vibrators, feathers, fingers and other tools at her
immediate disposal. Then she stops and allows me to catch my breath. Once I am
settled a bit, she runs her soft fingers along my legs and explains what this is
about.

"As my sex toy, I need you to expand your talents and provide entertainment for
my friends. You are going to learn how to lick and suck your own clit. As an
incentive, the only way you will find relief from the orgasm you so desperately
want right now is to use your mouth and tongue. Until you can find a way to
reach, I will occupy my time by keeping your clit throbbing and ready for you.
Despite the great improvements in your flexibility over the past month, I know
that you are not at the point of performing as I require. We will work several
hours each day, for as many days as it takes. You will not cum until you can
bring yourself off. And even then, we will continue training until you can
consistently bend down and suck yourself off."

I can't believe what she is asking me to do. She has already turned me into a
slut, a sex toy to be wound up and wound up without any release. But now she
wants me to be a cunt-sucking slut to myself, erasing even more dignity
(whatever I have left).

She starts again with that fucking feather to tease my clit, sending jolts of
need throughout my body. Using all of my strength, I pull with my arms and arch
my head down to reach my crotch. My head is about 3 1/2 inches from the top of
my vagina. I muster all of my strength and pull even harder. I get another 1/2
inch closer. Extending my tongue, I am about 1 1/2 inches away from the tip of
my clit. Yet no matter how much I try, I can't get any closer. Exhausted, I fall
back and rest.

Yet her incessant manipulation of my clit has me screaming with need. Driven by
my brain, which is now centered in my clit, I try again. And again. And again.
Without success.

Every 30 minutes or so Brittany stops and feeds me water through a straw. Then
she starts anew. She runs her hands all over my body, making me feel so good.
She repeatedly tweaks my nipples. And she continues her expert manipulation of
my pussy. I cry from the pure frustration and humiliation. By the time this
session is over five hours later, I can get my tongue about 3/4 inch from my
clit. But not close enough.

She unties me and slowly helps me unfold from this position. Once I have
stretched the cramps and kinks out, she orders me to crawl up the stairs to my
bedroom. She ties me face up in a spread eagle position, locking cuffs to my
wrists and ankles and pulling them until I am stretched tight. "Don't go
anywhere,' she chirps mockingly as she strolls out of the room.

Though I know I can't get loose, my frantic need to find some relief has me
tugging hard at my restraints. I stop when I hear her returning. She smiles as
she glances at my panting chest and damp forehead let me know that my struggles
where not a secret.

She sets a tray of food on the bed and props my head up with pillows so she can
feed me. I am used to this now from being fed repeated meals while bound in one
demonic position after another. Brittany takes her time to feed me. At these
times, she is tender and loving, as if nurturing her favorite puppy. More
importantly, I suck up the attention like water to a sponge. I feel intense, yet
conflicting feelings of love and disgust that are battling for my soul. Each
day, the she wins a little bit more ground.

My face is wiped clean and she sets the trey on the floor. She coaxes my mouth
open and inserts bit gag in mouth. "I want you to watch me, slut. Pay close
attention to what you are missing out on," she said as she leaves the bed.

Brittany starts a slow strip tease, peeling off her clothes in a very sensuous
way. I think about turning away, but I know I would be punished for displeasing
my owner and I am now up to 42 lashes. So I watch her young, tight, sexy body as
she undulates her hips. Slowly her blouse is unbuttoned, revealing a sexy
turquoise lace demi-bra that is set beautifully on her flawlessly tanned skin
(we both have been tanning on the new tanning bed she ordered me to purchase
several weeks ago).

She slithers out of her slacks displaying a matching thong that frames her long
legs. I can feel myself shiver with need again while viewing this evil, sexy
creature.

She dances silently around the room. She never takes her eyes off me as she runs
her hands up and down her body. Her breasts pop out the top of her bra as she
massages them with both hands. She pulls on her nipples. I can feel my own
nipples grow rigid from watching her. I would have never believed just one month
ago that I would be so turned on by another woman. Now here I am with a dripping
pussy while being teased by this creature.

I watch intently as one of her hands finds its way down her taught belly and
underneath the front of her panties. With a flare for showmanship, she licks her
lips and moans loudly as her fingers find her clit. She is obviously horny and
loving her power over me.

"Please let me lick you, Mistress Brittany," I beg, hoping that it will get me
closer to some kind of relief for my throbbing sex. Brittany again smiles slyly
as she pulls her soaking panties down her legs. She crawls on the bed up near my
head, then turns and straddles my head while facing the foot of the bed.

"You asked for it, my pet, now get to work," she purred as she lowers her crotch
in my face. As trained, I start by licking the rose bud of her tight ass. I
swirl my tongue around, teasing the sensitive area. She moans loudly as she
reaches down and pulls on my nipples. She scoots up to allow me access to her
slit and clit, which I lick and suck agressively.  My nipples are aching
fiercely as she continues to pinch and twist and pull on them.

Brittany is fast approaching her orgasm. When it hits, she screams out in
ecstasy. Yet she never releases my poor, tortured nipples. She rides me through
another cum, then another. Licking her for hours at a time has built up my
stamina to eat her out through multiple orgasms. I continue on as she rides me
like a bronco.

After more cums than I can count, she rolls off of me and shuts off the lights.
She snuggles next to my bound body and absently caresses my skin as she basks in
her afterglow. My fire is roaring hot, yet she gives no thought to my current
frustrations. She soon falls asleep, leaving me to stew in my juices for what
feels like hours until I cool down enough to sleep.

I wake up to her hands roaming my body again. She brushes over my inflamed
labia, causing my hips to jerk up in response. Within a minute she has me close
to orgasm again. I can't believe how my body is ignores my wishes and is so
responsive to her will. She again rides my face through several cums. She
releases me from my restraints and guides me into the shower, where she lathers
up my body and lovingly washes me. Her soft hands feel so wonderful. Of course,
she make sure that my arousal level is red-lining before she stops and orders me
to wash her. I enjoy the softness of her skin, the feel of her breasts and hard
nipples, her thin hips and high ass. It is when I reach her shaved pussy that I
feel the familiar flush of shame. This is all wrong.

She dresses as I fix breakfast. After we eat, I am tied again and we spend hours
working on my new trick. About halfway through my tears open like a spicket and
I can't stop crying from my frustration. I need to cum so bad it is causing
shooting pain through my crotch. By lunchtime, I can get much closer, but I
still can't reach.

After a lunch and a nap, I am again bound and teased. I am delirious with need
and I practically snap my spine trying to reach my beckoning clit, yet I find no
success. That evening, she again binds me to the bed, secures a double sided
dildo gag, and fucks my face while tormenting my overheated body. I pass out
from overload.

By late Sunday morning, I finally succeed in touching the tip of my tongue with
my clit. The feeling is incredibly odd and incredibly erotic all at once. With
all of my might I hold my position as I flick my clit a couple more times. It is
enough to finally send me rocketing through a mind shattering orgasm. I feel so
ashamed and degraded. Of all of my lowest points, this is even lower.

All through the week Brittany continues to train me, rewarding me by allowing my
tongue to bring myself off repeatedly. By the end of week I can wrap my lips
around my large clit and suck on it. I am amazed and embarrassed at great it
feels and at how fast I can suck myself off.

On Friday evening, she invites her friends over. She prepares me by locking on a
mask that hides my face, but not my mouth, eyes or ears. She ties me in the same
position from the weekend, with my arms ties around my thighs and my legs pulled
up and out. Her trusty vibrator is used bring me to a high level of arousal. She
then says, "You are to follow my every command, and not to cum without
permission, no matter what. You must beg me to cum whenever you get close." She
then sets up the video camera and sets up the room for guests.

It is bad enough to perform for Brittany in private. But to be used and
humiliated in front of her friends is truly a shattering experience, which I
must try to mentally prepare for. As always, they gather around with their
drinks, making degrading comments about me.

"Again, thank you all for attending our little show. My sex toy has developed a
rather incredible talent that will be unveiled for the first time tonight."

Looking at me, she commends' "You may start, my pet. Remember my earlier
commands."

I bend down and start to flick at my clit with my tongue. Her friends yelp in
astonishment as they see me lick, than suck on my towering clit. Within minutes
I am on the verge of cuming. I stop and beg, "Mistress, may I be allowed to
cum?"

"Who will make you cum? Ask correctly and I will consider," Brittany gloated.

"Please, Mistress, may I be allowed to lick my clit to orgasm?" I said with a
tremor in my voice. I feel like such a slut.

"No, you may not cum, fuck slave. Now hold your position and I will tell you
when to resume."

Over and over again I suck on my huge clit to the brink, and over and over again
I am ordered to stop just short of the abyss. Her friends are having the time of
their lives at my expense. By the end of the evening, I need to cum so bad that
tears are again welling up.

"I will let you cum if you volunteer to use that talented mouth on my friends
here for as long as they wish. Do you consent?" she asked, as if I had a choice.

"Yes, Mistress, your fuck toy will eat out everyone here for the right to have
my orgasm," I practically screamed out.

"I am not sure that you want it enough. Beg for it'" she commended

Oh Please Mistress, I beg you, please let me suck myself to orgasm. I will do
anything for you and your friends. I need to cum, Ma'am. Please..."

"You may cum, my obedient slut," she ordered.

Without hesitation, I wrap my lips around my clit and swirl my tongue around the
tip. I immediately exploded with a violent orgasm, flopping around in my
restraints. My heart hurt from the magnitude of that cum. to my further
embarrassment, her friends applaud as I ride out my orgasm.

As Brittany united me, I could finally see how worked up her group of 5 friends
were from my extraordinary show. Needless to say, my evening had only just
begun.

A Slave To Politics (part 10)

By SpeechMaster


Over the past few weeks, the sexual games have become all the more frustrating
and humiliating by the hidden, yet unrelenting control of my work life.

I secretly submit to her constant teasing throughout the work day. On especially
hectic days, she has me wear the clit vibrator with the remote. As I mentioned
before, this device is run by both a 2.4 GHz remote, which she keeps in her
pocket, or the bluetooth wireless connection with the computer in my office. She
will spend the day remotely buzzing my clit, sometimes in short, intense bursts,
and sometimes in protracted, low, simmering sessions.

Repeatedly, I dig my nails into my chair or hold my breath as I am forced to the
edge of a desperately needed orgasm. I can never get used to the feeling when
she backs off, leaving me teetering with my need and the powerful emotions that
follow. The need sometimes becomes so overpowering that I can't hold back the
tears. In my entire life, I have never wept as much as I have in the past few
weeks.

She loves to play with the remote during meetings. She will tease me and watch
my reactions. She is careful and has never taken me so far that I give myself
away to the meeting attendees.

Against my most urgent wishes, my body has become constantly alive with sexual
need. My skin is so sensitive now to the slightest touch; my nipples are almost
constantly hard and hypersensitive; my sex is constantly dribbling juice
(causing me to use so many tissue each day that I plow through several boxes per
week); and my clit's throbbing tension demanding my attention and has become the
center of my world. It is as if my body is now constantly prepared for sex.

Yet I have lost all control over satisfying my desperate and constant need. Only
Brittany has that power. And she wields this power to draw me further and
further into her inescapable web. I am sure I will be a drooling vegetable in a
matter of time.

When she does not attach the clit vibrator she will tease me in other ways. On
some days, she will lock the door to my office and require me to use a huge
dildo to fuck myself with until I am about to cum. She will order me to stop and
to suck the dildo clean. Although I am becoming familiar with the taste of
pussy, I will never get used to licking my own juices. It seems so wrong. These
sessions are more brutal to my psyche because of the wonderful feeling of
penetration. I feel a perverse loss when I have to yank the monster out of my
contracting hole. She will repeat this several times per day.

Or she will have me go into the women's room and rub my clit to near orgasm. It
is so tempting to just keep going until the amazing climax hits. But the orgasms
are so intense that I can't help but scream out when they hit. If you consider
that the woman's room in town hall is always busy, it would be apparent what was
going on in one of the stalls. That would be disastrous.

This is something that Brittany has been extremely careful about. She loves her
games and will push me to the brink of public humiliation, yet she knows where
to stop and how to keep our relationship invisible. She controls everything:
What I wear, what I eat, when I go to the bathroom, when I sleep, etc. It is the
power which fuels her intoxicating and insatiable desires.

In the afternoon, we now have a 30-minute strategy session scheduled. Brittany
will lock the door to my office and command me to strip. She sits in my chair
while I crawl under my desk. I must lick her to at least three orgasms or I will
be punished later that evening. This activity is especially degrading. For
goodness sakes, this is my office. It is my place of work. Now it is a place to
satisfy a sex-craved girl.

She has instructed me to introduce her to the city's power players. First it was
top business executives and community leaders. Then to the leaders of our
political committee. And then, last week, the mayor himself. Being the
incredibly smart girl she is (I swear that she is a certifiable genius), she
quickly analyzes the problems and weaknesses of each person she meets and, in
just a couple of days, impresses them beyond belief with the solutions she
proposes. Her photographic memory allows her to instantly connect people with
other people. Her slightly shy persona is endearing to everyone she meets.
Within the few months she has worked in my office, she leveraged her control
over me to become a connected and important person in the inner circles of power
and is working to push me out as the chief confidant to the mayor.

Brittany is also involved with every piece of my decision-making. She prepares
documents, which I must sign without the chance to review. She punishes me for
even bringing up the subject.

Today is a very special day. At 2:00PM we are meeting in the mayor's office to
discuss the details of the mayor's reelection bid this fall. Positions will be
decided and strategies developed. Impressions made today will help solidify the
power positions if the mayor wins another term. My mastery of election strategy
is unmatched and is the most important reason the mayor won his first election.
This is where I shine the brightest, and this is where Brittany's weaknesses and
inexperience will be exposed.

I go about my morning routine overloaded with sexual frustration. Over the past
few days, Brittany has tied me in bed and teased me for hours. The more I moaned
and begged and cried, the more she got off on it. For four nights straight, I
was tied tightly and played like a Stradivarius. I had to wait to be untied this
morning, allowing me to work my now expert tongue into the sweet folds of my
Mistress as she sat on my face. I have learned to read the signs of her
excitement, allowing me to return a small dose of prolonged teasing before
finishing her off with a cluster of strong orgasms.

"Go into the bathroom and prepare a one quart enema. You are to hold the
contents in your dirty little bowels until I finish my shower," she commands as
I follow her. I set up the enema bag as she tests the warmth of the water. She
knows that I hate anything up my anus, so she enjoys my humiliation as I insert
the enema and blow up the bulb to hold it in place. When I am finished filling
my bowels with the warm soapy solution, she says, "Don't let even a drop slip
out, my pet," as she gleefully pats my bloated belly.

I struggle to hold the contents of the enema as she luxuriates under the hot
streams of water. I dance a little in an effort to manage my discomfort.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, she shuts off the water and gives me
permission to go potty. I tend to her hair and makeup.

I jump in to take a quick shower. I make sure that every inch of hair is gone
below my neck. I finish the shower, dry off and rub lotion deep into my skin. 
As I do my hair, I can't help but admire the way my body is changing. I look
sleek and strong, like one of the fitness models you see on magazine covers. The
strong muscles and the strict diet are accentuating my curves. God I look hot!

I quickly change into the clothes left for me on the bed. I snap on the black
underwire 1/4 bra that lifts up my naked breasts and draws attention to the
long, hard nubs of my nipples. The note on the bed instructs me to use the
electrical tape on the dresser to tape my nipples down so that they don't show
so much. This is never pleasant. Indeed, the tape works in pressing my nipples
down, but the constant pressure makes them ache incessantly, like an
unscratchable itch.

I slip on the black garter belt, which fits snugly around my waist, and roll the
dark stockings up my smooth legs. My eyebrows rise as I grab the 4-inch heels
(Brittany never allows me to wear anything higher than 2 inches in the office).
I peak at my erotic form in the mirror, which sends jolts straight to my sex. A
wave of self-loathing rolls over me as I shake off the bout of sexual
excitement. I slide on the black silk blouse and the black skirt, both very
professional and appropriate for work. It's the slut outfit underneath which
burns at my soul.

I rush down stairs to fix my mistress her breakfast. After I eat my measly 2
slices of toast and a banana, we head off to work. I can tell that something is
brewing in the mind of this evil minx.

The day starts off with a good dildo fuck in my office. My slit is dripping as I
pull the dildo out of my overheated pussy. Through the morning, she has me
repeat this over and over. By lunch, I am insane with need.

"Follow me!" she orders as she leaves my office. Not wanting the harsh
punishment, I follow behind quickly as we make our down the hall. The conference
room would befit a hundred year-old law firm, with its dark wood paneling,
paintings of mayors past, a long table with leather chairs, and a closet by the
door. Locking the conference room door behind us, Brittany turns and orders,
"Take off the blouse and skirt. Hurry up!"

She opens up the closet door and takes out one of her large gym bags. I feel so
vulnerable and ridicules, as I stand practically naked in this room. She turns
toward me with a wide butt plug, already lubed. "Hurry up and put that where it
belongs!" I struggle with this especially wide plug. With some effort, I finally
lodge the monster in my ass, with my sphincter wrapping itself painfully tight
around the small rim at the end of the plug.

"Kneel," Brittany demands. She starts a ponytail in my hair and proceeds to
weave a leather thong throughout its length. She ties it off at the end, leaving
about 2 feet of thong left.

"Stand," she orders. As she turns me around and starts tying my elbows together,
I start to become frightened. She secures my hands together as well. Without
delay, she rips the tape off both of my nipples. Although I hold back most of my
scream, a small one escaped. "I would advise you to practice your noise-control
today," she grins as she backs me up into the closet.

As she grabs something her bag of goodies, I shiver with the thought of what is
in store for me. When she returns, she backs me up further until the balls of my
heels were standing on a 2 by 4 piece of wood. "Stay on your toes," she
commanded.  She kneels down and attaches ankle cuffs. She then locks chains to
each and pulled my ankles at least 2 feet apart, locking them to hooks embedded
in the wood directly beside my heels. She repeats this again with chains that
secure the inside of my ankles. I think, "two chains per foot...isn't that
overkill? I certainly can't move my feet and inch!" My stomach was now churning
with anxiety.

She uses a chair to tie the thong in my ponytail to a chain, which is hanging
from the short ceiling. "I don't have much time," she stated as she hurried up.
She put one-foot by two-foot metal plate beneath the heels of my shoes.

She used her finger to strum my clit until it was fully erect. Without warning,
she clips something on to my clit. I stifle a yelp as my body shakes.

"Here is the deal. Today is my day to shine. By this evening, a new star will be
born and your significance will be greatly reduced. I have rescheduled the
mayor's reelection meeting from his office to this conference room. After all,
this room is larger. And the meeting has been stepped up to 1:00PM. Don't worry,
you will have an opportunity to hear everything and admire my work. I will
explain your absence. But you will be here in spirit," she giggled. "I want you
to lower your heels on the floor," she requested. As I did, I could feel my heel
make contact with a strip of metal of some sort. The clip on my clit started
teasing me with electric currents. It felt awesome. I was quickly getting
excited.

"Enough. Lift up your heels, slut." I do as commanded; disappointed that I can't
cum and embarrassed that I want to orgasm so badly. The clip buzzes very
lightly, sending gentle currents through my clit.

She reaches forward and shoves a wiffle-ball gag in my mouth and straps in
behind my head. She softly runs her fingers down my cheek and along my neck. She
looks at me lovingly.

"Today we will test both your physical endurance and your sexual discipline. I
hope that you have fun today. I know that I will, just thinking of you in this
delicious predicament. Oh, I almost forgot," she said as she reached in the bag
and grabbed a flat piece of plastic. On the top were two small chains with clips
on the end. Brittany snapped the chains shut on my nipples, causing me to scream
out.

"The sign says 'Please fuck me. I beg you to spank me. I am a fuck toy. See more
at http://www.mylesbianfucktoy.com'"  I start crying as my body trembles in
fear. I can't believe this is happening!!!

"You will want to keep your noises in check today, pumpkin," she said, rubbing
my cheek softly. "Otherwise, you and your kinky, slutty life style will finally
be discovered. Not only will your life be ruined, but also I will send my little
package to the police. Have fun!" She beams as she shuts the closet door and
leaves the conference room.

Here I stand scared to death. The doors of the closet are solid wood on the
bottom but have wood slats in fixed louver setting in the upper section. I can
see the floor and the bottoms of the closest chairs. The only sound I hear is
the rapid pounding of my heart. 

My clit keeps receiving these delicious light charges, keeping my fire stoked
without letting the flame get too hot. I can feel a single drop of juice slowly
roll down my left thigh.

To keep my balance, I have to keep still and stand on balls of my high-heeled
shoes. I experiment by dropping my heels. My head yanks up hard as my heels hit
the metal plate, sending my clit into a buzzed frenzy. It is like a bolt of
erotic lightening sweeping through my sex.

I quickly stand on my toes again. My chest is heaving as I try to comprehend my
situation.

I suddenly hear the conference door open and several people shuffle in. My
breathing quickens as I hold completely still, afraid of being discovered. I
recognize some voices, while others are less familiar. Within minutes, the room
is filled with members of the re-election committee. Many of these people are my
closest colleagues and friends. A handful are bitter rivals who have tasted
defeat at my hands so often that they secretly hate me, even though they show me
the fake graciousness that permeates politics. And the rest of the attendees are
relatively unfamiliar to me.

I can hear the mayor as he brings the meeting to order. "Where is Alicia?" he
asks, eliciting the dreaded response from Brittany, "she is regretfully tied up
right now, working on an important donor or something. She will come as soon as
possible." I could just imagine the sly grin that Brittany is trying to contain.

"One of the most important meetings of our lives and she chooses not to attend?
We need her brilliance here today, not out in the field." Obviously, the mayor
did not catch the puns that Brittany laced her answer with.

He commences forth with the meeting. I know how these meetings drag on through
the evenings and sometimes into the wee hours of the night. I shake with the
thought.

Brittany is masterful, throwing out concise and innovative ideas that are wowing
the room. She is easily taking my place as the leader, the mastermind of the
mayor's political machine. I feel both anger and despair as I feel her steal
more of my power away from me.

The low vibration on my clit is starting to wear me down. I have been tortuously
teased all week without any relief and my body is demanding relief. I can feel
the slow leak of juices crawling down my thighs as my clit is teased
relentlessly.

And my calves are starting to ache. After at least an hour, maybe even two, my
calves are losing some strength and are cramping. In the middle of one of the
mayor's diatribes, I unknowingly let my heels touch the metal plate. The sharp
current to my clit sent a quick yelp from my throat. The room fell quiet
instantly. I jerked back up onto my toes and held my breath. Within seconds
(though it felt like minutes) the monologue resumed.

That was close. I need to concentrate on keeping completely silent, no matter
what happens.

The time feels as though it is standing still. My arms ache. My back aches. My
mind is becoming consumed with my aching calves and my pulsing clit. The clamps
on my nipples leave a dull, throbbing ache. I feel like I am going to collapse
soon. And all the while i listen to this evil girl steal my career away from me.
Brittany has again succeeded in finding a way to deepen my feelings of
helplessness.

"It's 3 o'clock now. Be back by 3:15. And Brittany, please find your boss. We
need her here now," stated the mayor. People quickly shuffled out and the room
becomes dead quiet.

I let my heels down to rest them briefly. Immediately, the clamp on my clit
fires sharp pulses, sending me quickly towards an orgasm I so desperately need.
Within seconds I am on the brink of a mind-blowing orgasm. Just as I hit the
massive peak, I scream out through my gag as my orgasm takes over. My body
spasms and shakes with the power of the awesome cum. Then a second orgasm hits,
even harder than the first. The cums are so powerful that I know that I can't
take another without screaming at the top of my lungs. I quickly lift my heels
and strain to stay up on my toes.

It takes me a quite some time to come down from that huge sexual peak. Now, my
nipples ache from the sign swinging as my chest expands and contracts heavily
with the need for oxygen. My skin is plastered with a thin film of perspiration.
My body is cramping in my shoulders, thighs, and calves. And my clit throbs as
with excitement. The low buzzing is no longer welcome. In fact, it is driving me
insane. I need a rest! Yet there is no respite in sight.

Another hour or two into this meeting, the conversation is less controlled and
more spontaneous. I hear my enemies using my absence to trash me. I want to
launch through the door and strangle them. Yet I remain here, bound, naked and
horny. My calves are starting to give in and I find myself accidentally touching
my heels to the plate. Even though I lift myself back up immediately, the short
burst of power to my clit increases my excitement level. I concentrate on my
breathing and my absolute need to keep quiet. I know that I will not be able to
stay quiet if I cum again.

The cycle repeats its self in an agonizing dance. My legs shake. I accidentally
touch my heels to the metal plate. My clit gets a blast of sexual stimulation. I
raise my heels. I struggle to regain balance and control. And excitement level
rises. For hours this goes on. Fuck juice is dripping down my legs. I need to
cum so bad I want to scream!

My Mistress is slowly stripping everything from me. I have no control left.

By nightfall, I am shaking with need and exhaustion. I am on the brink of the
most massive orgasm of my life. One long zap and I am a goner. I can imagine the
way I look, my body gleaming with sweat, my ass filled with a large plug, my
pussy sending rivers of juices down my legs, my nipples two long erect points
holding a sign that begs for anyone to use me like a fuck toy. My legs are about
to completely give out and allow me the cum I need so bad right now.

(to be continued)

A Slave To Politics (part 11)

Time is my worst enemy, progressing as if everything is in slow motion.
Everything but me, that is. My feet and calves and legs and back all scream in
painful fatigue. I can feel Brittany's brutal power rush through me.  As I fight
my body, and it's overheated desires, to keep some dignity and self-esteem, she
attacks me from yet another front, rapidly eroding the base of my professional
power.  Like an onion, my life is being peeled away from me, one layer at a
time. And there is nothing I can do about it but fight. Even in my extreme state
of arousal, I am somehow tapping some deep pool of reserve energy that is
keeping me from the brink of collapse.

The meeting had adjourned what seemed like an hour ago, although it was actually
only a few minutes. Everyone was partnering up and heading to their favorite
watering hole. Many of our best ideas came to be during these happy hour drink
fests (which always lasted much, much longer than the advertised hour). The
alcohol and informality of our evening forays are a strong prescription for the
bureaucratic constipation that infects government offices like an incurable
virus.

The numbers dwindle down to 10, then 6, and then 4. It widdles down to just
Brittany and the Mayor, who are setting up goals and timelines and
congratulating each other with such giddy energy that they could light up the
entire building. I watch with utter fascination as Brittany uses her "shy side",
which in combination with the raw energy of the moment, is used to manipulate
the Mayor's sense of power and ego and seduce him into her web. I watch as she
puts her hand on his, and then withdraws quickly with a blush. I watch as he
reacts, putting his hand on her shoulder and assuring her. I watch as she feigns
embarrassment, yet not moving away from his hand. I watch as he moves quickly to
scoop a strand of hair from her face, then locking his eyes with her in a
smoldering stare. I watch as he cradles the back of her head and guides her lips
to his. The kiss starts off slow, but quickly rises to an animal-like frenzy.

I watch as Brittany breaks off the kiss and mumbles something about his wife and
his being twice her age. He grabs her again and kisses her even more intently.
She again breaks off contact. Her face displays an expression somewhere between
"I should run out of here as fast as I can" and "I should fuck the shit out of
this powerful man."  Finally, she walks to the door and secures the lock. I
watch this drama unfold as if it were my own private R-rated movie. 

I watch as Brittany moves to the mayor and kisses him with a smoldering
intensity that reverberates all the way to my throbbing clit. My heels touch
down as I momentarily lose concentration. My pussy feels like it will burn me
alive. My heels graze the metal plate and shoots electrical current through my
clit. I jerk back up on my toes, but the damage is done. It takes me a few
seconds to find my breath again.

I watch as they unbutton each other's shirts, grabbing and pawing at each other
like high school sophomores. I watch in a blur as she rips his pants and boxers
down, revealing a beautiful cock. It is proportionate to his height; it's raging
head extending maybe 7 inches from his heavy ball sac. I watch as Brittany
quickly licks and sucks his dick. Under the clip, I can feel my clit surge as if
she were sucking on my ragingly erect love button.

I watch as he grabs her hair and starts to fuck her face with an animal lust.
The whole scene is ripe with a hungry, primal urgency. I watch as they send
papers and pens and cups flying off the table. He lifts her onto the table with
ease, and then jams his penis into her in one powerful stroke. I watch as he
labors to control his driving lust by thrusting in and out with deep, even,
circular strokes that seem to drive Brittany our of her mind. My body is
trembling as I fight off an orgasm that is rising from the deep pit of my soul.
If I don't control this O, I will die from the coronary it is sure to cause.

I watch as they increase their pace, his penis pounding her hard and fast while
her hips bounce to meet his frantic thrusts. They fight to keep silent as they
fast approach their peak. In crashing orgasmic waves, their bodies go rigid for
what seems like minutes. I start to silently weep at the huge sense of lost that
I am somehow feeling.  I need to have that happen to me SO BAD! I strain with
all of my might to keep on my toes.

I watch as they catch their breath, then they awkwardly reassemble their
clothing. They fumble through an uncomfortable departure, agreeing to meet
tomorrow at 10:00AM to officially declare her role as the new campaign director.
I want to scream out "NOOOOOOO!" but I can't let myself. Instead, I just watch.
She asks what will happen to me, and he responds that I will be slowly phased
out as this current term ends. He needs someone like Brittany who better
understands him.

As he hustles out of the room, Brittany quickly re-locks the door and opens the
closet. She yanks the plug from the wall before I realize that I can now cum
without consequence. She grabs her evil gym bag, whips out her camera and starts
snapping pictures.

Click "My poor, poor slave slut." Click. "Look at how your skin is glistening
with sweat." Click. "Look how your labia is so puffy." Click. "Your clit is
almost as long as the mayor's penis." Click. "It is actually throbbing, jiggling
the clip with every beat of your heart!" Click. Click. "Look how your juices are
dripping down your legs and pooling on the floor." Click. Click. Click. "That
sign has tortured you nipples in angry, long points." Click. "You are just a
bundle of raw nerve endings, aren't you?" Click.

Brittany puts down the camera and unfastens my hair as she continues her
monologue. "I know that you are pissed at me. You are starting to learn that I
can take anything I want from you. I own you." She runs her fingers through my
hair, sending shivers coursing through me.

"Does my fuck toy want to cum," she purrs in a baby-talk voice as she releases
my trapped nipples, causing me to yelp out through the gag.  She unclips my
turgid clit, causing more painful moans from my throat. She proceeds to release
me from everything but the wrist and elbow restraints and the butt plug.  She
pulls me toward the table as she lifts her skirt and lies back on the table.

"Do be so kind as to use that slut tongue of yours to clean the mayor's spunk
out of me." I start to cry as I lean forward to perform another degrading
activity. My body aches from the prolonged torture and sexual teasing. Yet I get
no relief while my owner gets everything she wants. Not wanting to feel her
punishment, I dig my tongue deep into her sweet young pussy, licking the pool of
cum as quickly as I can. The taste of his semen, even mixed in with Brittany's
sex juice, brings back memories of my wonderful husband. I feel the spectrum of
emotions flood through me; the love for him, then the sorrow of not having him
any more, then the anger for his putting me in this situation, then resignation
that I no longer have control over my life.

"Keep licking until I am satisfied," she commands. Once I have lapped up the
remaining jism, I start to work on her clit, licking and sucking it in just the
way she demands of me. Even as my own clit throbs, I work meticulously to excite
her and bring her to a crashing orgasm. I lose myself in my duty, freeing my
mind from my body and giving me a short reprieve from my endless torment. One
her orgasm hits, I sink to the floor and start to cry again. 

"Oh, how pathetic. I do enjoy how you are fighting me every step of the way.  I
enjoy the challenge," she smirks as she gets up from the table and smoothes out
her skirt. "Stand up!" she orders. It is difficult with my hands tied tightly
behind me, but I finally manage to get to my feet. She wordlessly exams my
pussy, tracing lines along my engorged lips and flicking my large, erect clit
with each up stroke. I am delirious with need. My heart pounds and I see stars
as she expertly brings me to the edge. She then stops and orders me to turn
around. She releases my elbows and wrists and allows me to rub the circulation
back into my aching limbs. As she grabs her camera, she orders me to lie on the
conference table.

"Do you want to cum, my fucktoy?" she asks in a condescending voice.

"Only..if...it..pleases...you," I stumble in between deep breaths of lust.

"You have two choices. I will allow you to cum. You must lick yourself to
orgasm. Or we can get dressed and leave. I might not extend the invitation to
cum again for a while, but at least you can maintain some dignity. So choose
right now!"

Like a flash of lightening, I shake my head yes and scream out my need to cum
right now. I am in such need that I discard my dignity for the chance to relieve
the painful need in my sex.

She taps her finger against her cheek in mock contemplation. She then smiles,
gets her camera and orders me to start licking. I grab my legs and pull them
back and behind my arms, allowing my tongue to access my long, stiff clit. I lap
at it with all of the speed I can muster. It feels so good and I can feel myself
quickly approaching an earth shattering cum.

Click. Click. Brittany has positioned herself to get several photos of me
licking myself on the conference room table. As I near orgasm, I realize that
she is also capturing the city seal and the paintings in each shot. Click.
Click. Click. My mind goes blank as the biggest orgasm of my life rockets
through me. I scream out as wave after wave of powerful sexual pleasure consumes
me. Click. Click.

My fate is sealed.

(to be continued - suggestions are welcomed)

speechmasterone@yahoo.com

A Slave To Politics (part 12)

Once home, Brittany ties me to the bed and quickly rolls off to sleep. As the
hours tick by, I think about the day's events and how much further into the
quicksand I have sunk. Her diabolical plan has been executed without a flaw. She
found my skeleton, and then used it to build more skeletons. She has trained my
body to demand sex all of the time. She uses my need to distract me from the
rest of her plan. I am denied satisfaction for days on end. Even when I am
allowed to cum, it is most often in the most humiliating ways. Building more
skeletons.

I must stop this vicious cycle tomorrow. I will turn myself in and face the
music, so-to-speak. I will march into the mayor's office and tell him exactly
what has happened. I know I won't get my life back, but at least I will avenge
the wicked treatment of this evil girl and start a new life somewhere else.
Anything is better than this.

I fall to sleep with a grin of satisfaction on my face.

I awake in a haze, not quite understanding why I am so agitated. A long moan
emerges from deep in my throat and I try to thrust my pelvis into the air. I can
feel a chill sweeping across my body. It is taking a while for me to clear the
cobwebs that cloud my thinking. My mouth is filled with a gag, I think, maybe a
ring gag because I can stick my tongue through it. My clit, ass and nipples are
on fire with stimulation. I moan again with the intensity of my need. GOD when
will this end?!?

I try to jerk my arms down but find both are stretched almost painfully tight to
the corners of the bed. I quickly realize that my legs are spread and tied to
the other corners as well. In fact, I am stretched so tightly that it is
painful. I try again to jerk my hips around, but I can't. Looking down my body,
I shiver with the sight. My nipples and clit are both clamped with the maddening
little vibrators and I am sure my ass is plugged with a vibrator as well. I can
see wires trailing from each of the clamps to some kind of handheld
computer-telephone, which is taped to the middle of the bed's footboard. My head
falls back to the mattress as I realize that Brittany has rendered me completely
helpless and is running her evil little program to keep me excited without
orgasm.

My mind is clearing. The pure lust I feel pulsing through me is driving me nuts.
I grunt and groan and thrash about, although my thrashing is severely limited. I
feel sharp electric shocks attack my most sensitive spots. The shocks increase
as I start to scream. The pain increases to a torturous level. I am silent for a
second as I gather my breath and I find that the shocks stop, immediately. I
realize that the shocks are noise controlled. I will have to remain as quiet as
possible.

I pick up my head and look down again. My waist has been tied tightly and the
ropes leading down the sides of the bed, no doubt tied to the bed frame. Looking
further down, my thighs are tied and secured in the same fashion. She must have
slipped me something to make me sleep, then secured me before she left for work.
UGGGHHHHHHH!

I can see that she has somehow programmed the handheld with that blasted program
that uses my vital signs to keep me on the edge without cumming. I stifle my
groan as another wave of helpless lust washes over me. She will eventually drive
me insane with these torments.

I am wallowing in my need when I am abruptly surprised by Brittany's voice.
"Good morning, my pet!" she bellows though the handheld. "It's about time you
have awoken. Sorry to keep you tied up today, but I figured that you had had
enough and would have tried something stupid today. And it is much too early to
end the fun, don't you think?"

I scream out at her as I try to move my arms to smash the handheld into a
million pieces. Instead, I accomplish nothing but zapping my nipples and clit
and ass with painful electrical pulses. I shut up immediately.

"That's a good little slut. Keep quiet and things will be much easier for you
today. I will keep the phone on during my meeting with the mayor. Here we go,"
she says as I moan with need. I can here the clapping of her heels as she
marches down the corridor, then the muted steps of the carpeted outer office of
the mayor. She is quickly shown into the main office, greeting the mayor as the
doors are closed.

"I once again want to congratulate you on a brilliant job," the mayor says. I
have never heard the mayor so smitten with anyone like this before. The mayor
then asks, "Without sounding too bold, I think that you will be key to my future
political career.  I know that you are still attending school, so we will need
to wait until you receive your degree. How far off are you until you graduate?"

"I just received my degree. Although I just finished my second year, I took 24
credits per semester, plus 16 credits for each of the past two summers. My
graduation became final last week. I graduated summa cum laude with a B.A. in
business administration and a B.S. in computer science. The school had allowed
me to take graduate level courses as well, so I am almost half-way towards my
M.B.A. as well."

I was shocked. I had no idea she was this smart! I have been so distracted with
her torment that I did not even see what was going on around me.  And as I
listen, I am kept on the edge. I suppress a loud moan as a wave of frustration
rolls over me.

"Wow. What can I say Brittany? You are a special person...smart, creative, and
certainly sexy!" he says with apparent joy. "I have not seen your boss for days.
Have you heard from her?"

"She called in sick this morning. May I be frank with you, Mayor?" Brittany asks
quietly. The pit of my stomach tightens as I dread what this little actress will
say next.

"Everything is confidential in this room," he says with a lie. I know how some
of the greatest leaks came from the mayor and his staff just minutes after a
"confidential" meeting in this office.

"I fear that the Deputy Mayor is suffering from a minor break down. I think that
the job places too high of demand on her. She has no social life after the loss
of her dear husband. She just has work. She has not been getting things done,
even with the massive hours she has been pulling. You have seen how harried she
has been over the past month. Sometimes, she is almost out of breath from
running around.  I have had to cover for her time and time again, and I honestly
believe that she is dropping the ball more often than we can afford." She
proceeds to tell the mayor of the various screw-ups, which are lies and
half-truths weaved into a tight, believable little story.

I scream out in a rage and I immediately feel the wrath of these fucking
electrodes. I scream out again as the pain shoots through my nipples, clit and
ass. It is her fault I am tired and extremely distracted while at work!   I
struggle to keep silent as I thrash in my bonds.

Brittany continues, "I talked with her this morning and she feels she needs a
change. She wants to go on a two-week vacation to wind down, and then return in
a role, which is not as stressful, one that allows her time to rebuild her life.
I want to go with her on vacation to keep her company. When she returns, I ask
that you keep her here to work with me. She will remain a very valuable asset as
we develop your career."

I almost pull my arms out of their sockets as I struggle to get free. Loud
grunts escape my throat, causing the electrodes to play their painful tune
again. I just can't believe how helpless I am.

"Sounds like a good plan.  I am touched by your caring for her," he says to
Brittany. "She has been very valuable to me and she will always have a place
here. We need to do everything we can to ease her stress. Now, let's talk about
your role here."

As I suffer the worst of all humiliations, Brittany outlines her plan to revamp
the administration and take control of his affairs. She sounds so smart and
convincing that he agrees to everything. They agree to meet that evening for
dinner. He then buzzes his secretary and things are set in motion.

Over the next few hours, I listen as the mayor introduces Brittany to the staff,
then to the press. His glowing terms send daggers through my heart. I hear
everything as I struggle helplessly in my inescapable arousal. I need to cum so
bad that I can't help but scream out my frustration from time to time. Then I
must deal with the shocks.

Brittany convenes a meeting of the staff and lays out her plans. She asks for
suggestions and feedback. She asks everyone to spend the next two weeks defining
their roles and laying out exactly what they need from her to make them as
successful as they can. She is a real leader, and for the first time, I don't
hear the petty political bickering that has permeated the office for years. All
at once I realize that she is winning their hearts, and they will never want to
go back to me being their more controlling, repressive boss.

Brittany explains her vacation plans to everyone. As she excuses her self for
the afternoon, a round of congratulations follow. Twenty minutes later, I hear
her entering the house. She bounds up the stairs and emerges into the room with
a huge smile on her face.

"Wasn't I amazing?" she asks as she rips off her clothes and jumps on top of my
damp, horny body. Her noises are sending painful shocks into my body.

"Oh, I'm sorry my pet. Let me turn that off for you." She kneels back and shuts
off the nasty little handheld, allowing my body a little rest.

"We need to celebrate. Let me free your mouth up, pet."  She sits straddling my
waist and quickly unfastens the straps.

Brittany starts pawing at my breasts, releasing the clips from my sore, erect
nipples. I struggle and moan as the blood rushes back. I could literally kill
her right now if my arms were free.  Yet my body enjoys the feel of her soft,
naked flesh against mine. She kisses me aggressively. She eats me up with her
smoldering lips. My need creates an urgency in me as I respond back just as
aggressively. The kiss goes on for some time as she continues to strum my
nipples with her fingers.

"I have not heard you congratulate me, pet," she coos as she massages my tender
breasts. I hesitate just long enough for Brittany to grab both nipples and pull
them roughly away from my chest.

"Mistress, you are so brilliant. Congratulations on your great job. You will be
the best deputy mayor this city has ever seen." As I say this, the tears start
flowing unabated. Brittany rubs my damp hair back and looks into my eyes with a
love that is overwhelming. The tenderness of her touch makes me forget all of
the torment. I lose my heart to her.

I succumb to her needs as she turns around to "69" me. I start to lick her as
she unclips my clit. I scream into her pussy as she tenderly licks my pussy to
ease the pain. Her tongue is so soft and warm. I lick her with a passion I can't
contain. "She loves me!" I think as I strive to make her happy.

Brittany stops licking me every time I am about to orgasm. While my body cools
down, she tells me about how she will have dinner with the mayor, and then
invite him back so she can fuck him in front of the hidden cameras she has
placed throughout the room. She tells me of our vacation plans, leaving some
juicy details blank, and lying hints to the evil activities that she has in
mind. I birng her to her first of many orgasms that afternoon.

I am so fucking horny that I am moaning constantly. I have never felt more
alive, and something about losing my job to Brittany has freed me from
responsibility. My need to cum and Brittany's need to be served are the only two
things that I have left. I grasp on to them as strongly as I have tried to
protect the rest of my life. I will not allow her to take these last few things
away from me.

After a couple hours of serving my Mistress, bringing her to unbelievable levels
of bliss, she climbs off of me and unties me from the bed. My body is sore and
shaking from my unfulfilled need.

"Run a bath, pet,"  she suggests. She invites me in and we soak for over an
hour, relaxing and occasionally running our fingers along each other's legs. A
couple of times she playfully flicks her big toe over my still sensitive clit,
causing me to yelp. I feel at home for the first time in weeks.

"We are going downstairs for a workout. Mine will be brief because I must get
ready for my date, slut. I want you to run on the treadmill for 45 minutes, do
your shoulder and abs workout and do your stretches, and meet me here in the
bedroom in 90 minutes," Brittany demands.

When we workout at home, Brittany has me wear a tiny little white sports bra,
socks and running shoes, and nothing else. The workouts have progressively
become more grueling. Running on parallel treadmills, we both run at a fast
pace. She has a small remote on her control panel that controls my machine as
well. She increases the speed of my machine, pushing me to run faster. I quickly
become soaked in perspiration, causing my little sports bra to become wet and
transparent.

When we first started home workouts, Brittany experimented by having me run with
a dildo or ben wa balls lodged in my pussy. After these sessions, I was left
with painful bruising that prevented my workouts for a day or two. She now only
inserts something in my holes if I need to be punished.

She increases my speed again and I feel like a thoroughbred being trained for
the derby. I struggle to finish the run. I cover just under 6 miles in 45
minutes, with Brittany keeping pace the entire time. She runs through a quick
circuit as I labor through an intensive shoulder workout.

"I am going to get ready for my date. Finish your workout, eat the salad and
protein drink I have laid out for you and meet me in my bedroom in exactly 30
minutes. I'll be watching you on the monitors." Brittany says as she hurries out
of the room.

I do my 750 crunches, working my abs and obliques. I stand and stare at my
figure in the mirror. I am amazed at how my body is shaping.  My stomach is now
rippled with muscle and flat as a countertop.  My shoulders are fuller and
rounder, setting off my extremely slim waist and my strong legs.  I had
previously bought into the myth that you would look like a manly body builder if
you lifted weights. Instead, I must admit that I look like one of those fitness
models on the cover of the workout magazines. Even my breasts look larger
against my lean, strong torso.

Breaking from my self-reverie, I rush through my stretches, run to the kitchen
and wolf down my sparse meal and rush to meet my mistress in the nick of time.
She is made up beautifully, with an elegant, yet professional red business suit,
which hugs every curve on her body. Her matching heels and red lipstick make her
look powerful.

"Follow me!" she snaps as she walks down the hall to one of my spare bedrooms.
When she opens the door, I am flabbergasted. I knew that she had work done in
the room while we were at work each day, but I had not dreamed of anything like
this. This is one of several rooms that I am forbidden to enter without
Brittany's permission.

Before my eyes was a multimedia command center that would make any TV producer
envious. Eight monitors line one wall, with digital taping machines, servers and
editing terminals decking another.

"This is were I have created and run the websites that are bringing in so much
cash. I haven't told you yet, but, in total, the websites bring in over $125,000
per month. And that may double within two months. My overhead is very low, since
I don't have to pay the talent, or the rent. The trick is to create multiple
sites that are basically mirrors of each other. Of the 150 sites I have created,
they all funnel the viewer to one of three main web sites, or hubs. You may be
the most popular sex slave on the internet, and nobody has even seen your face
yet. I have already started the ball rolling on getting a second star. But I am
getting ahead of myself."

In the middle of the room is a strong wooden chair with an ominous dildo
sticking up at least eight inches from the seat.  "You might want to grease that
up before you sit your ass on that thing." Brittany laughed. I was hurt. I
thought that she loved me and would not torture me anymore. How could she be
doing this?

Yet I realized that she promised nothing, showing me only a few hours of love
that I so desperately need. Like a little sissy, I fight back the tears caused
by my hurt feelings.

"I don't have all night. Do it or you will get a spanking. We are up to 73 now,
if I am not mistaken."

Even before she finishes her threat, I jump towards the seat and proceed to
apply a liberal coating of lubrication to the extremely wide dildo. How was this
monster supposed to fit in my ass? I look up at Brittany looking wordlessly for
pity.

"Now climb aboard, fucktoy," She cackled.

I climb up onto the seat and straddle the dildo. I slowly squat down, impaling
my anal cavity. It takes a few minutes, but I finally feel my ass touch the hard
wooden seat. Brittany then helps me straighten my leg out and sit. She pulls my
arms over the back of the chair and ties my wrists together, then struggles to
pull my elbows together. Due to the workout and the angle of my arms behind the
back of the chair, she only succeeds in pulling my arms painfully close to one
another.

She then grabs a chain that has three clamps on it. She pulls on my left nipple
and attaches the clamp, then repeats this procedure on my right nipple. My body
shivers with the pain and I moan continuously. The chain connecting my nipples
has a second chain attached. My clit starts to get rubbed vigorously, bringing
it to full erection in seconds. She pulls the chain down and clips it on my
clit. I scream out in pain.

Ankle cuffs are secured and ropes are tied to each. I feel both of my ankles
pulled toward the back of the chair. I groan in pain as my ankle ropes are
strung over my wrists and the slack is pulled out of the rope. She continues to
pull my ankles up towards my wrists, causing my body to bow as much as it can
with eight inches of thick plastic trapped in my ass. The bow in my body also
causes the chains connecting my nipples and my clit to pull hard on each other.
The more I bend to relieve the pain in my arms and legs, the more I tug
painfully on my more sensitive spots. My grunts increase as she cinches off the
ropes.

She clips a tiny little vibrator, which is no more than 2 inches long, onto the
nipple/clit chains. A cord that runs from the vibrator is plugged in to one of
the computers in the room.

"Open your mouth," she commands a few seconds later and stuffs a 3 inch cock gag
into my mouth, fastening it securely in back of my head.

"Have fun. I'll see you after dinner. I hope that you enjoy the show!" she
squealed as she leaves and locks the door.

I test my restraints, hoping against hope that she slips up for once and gives
me an opening to escape this bondage. Yet all my struggles do is cause
discomfort in my arms and legs and bring a painful throb to my nipples and clit.

Out of nowhere, I feel the vibrator start, buzzing the taught chain and sending
a light hum to all three extended nubs. The feeling was exquisite. The
vibrations stop after a minute, then start again three minutes later. Oh that
feels nice!

Off, on, off, on, off, on.

Over and over the cycle repeats.

My arousal level increases again. Not quite to the edge, but still to an
annoyingly high level. Every time I move, I can feel tugging and pulling on all
the wrong parts of my body, with the aches, pains and arousal that follow. With
the huge dildo up my ass, I feel like a skewered pig at a Hawaiian roast.

Several hours later, I hear noise in the house. The tape machine light turns
green and I can see that the machine has started taping. She must have set up
motion detectors on the cameras, taping anything that moved.  The mayor takes
off his coat and drapes it over the living room sofa, while Brittany pops a
bottle of Riesling and pours them into two crystal flutes. They toast, clink
glasses and sip the sweet wine.

I had never noticed before how sexy the mayor looks. He has a classic, chiseled
jaw that has always been muted by his spectacles and his conservative business
suits. He is in great shape for a man in his early forties. His hair is only now
starting to show a little gray, which will only make him more distinguished
looking to voters. I want to fuck him. I want to feel his strong hands over my
erect nipples. I long for his long, stiff cock to pound my pussy into oblivion.
I am panting from the power of my thoughts.

 I watch him longingly as he puts his glass down, then grabs Brittany's and sets
it down as well. He cups her head with his large hand and pulls her lips into
his. They kiss softly, exploring the feel of each other. He pulls her to her
feet and they start a slow sensuous dance in the silence of the house. They kiss
and snuggle. He the picks her up effortlessly and marches up the stairs to the
master bedroom.

They undress slowly and make love slowly, over and over and over again. I am
suffering. This is so unfair. I am the one who needs that cock, not her. She
came repeatedly today. I have had to wallow in my own excitement with no way of
relieving the powerful tension. The vibrator starts its dance on the chains for
the 100th time, causing me to strain into the chains to intensify the
sensations.  And for the millionth time since I have met Brittany, I start to
cry. Somehow, she has found something else that is locked up inside me and took
it from me.

At about 10:00 p.m., the mayor take a quick shower with Brittany, then puts on
his clothes and heads home to his wife. Brittany enters my room and sees her
dream slave, overheated and drooling as usual.

"His cock is so long and thick. It feels so good sawing in and out of my cunt.
It has been a while since I got some cock. I must tell you how good it feels,"
Brittany purrs in triumph. She grabs hold of the chain connecting my nipples and
clit and starts to pull.

"It's a shame that you won't be feeling cock for quite some time, at least not
in your hot little fuck box. You are my little lesbian fuck toy, to be teased
and used to my desire. Don't you agree?" she says as she gives the chains a
serious of yanks. I nod, fighting to keep my breath through the pain and
excitement she is causing. I flex my body upward, moving the dildo in my ass.
She smiles as she realizes how close i am to cumming.

"I bet I can make you cum by just yanking on your naughty little parts. Shall we
see?"

She gives the chain a serious of quick, short jerks that bring me to the edge of
a massive orgasm. I am such a slut that she can make me cum like this. She
grasps the chain harder and gives it one powerful yank, ripping the clamps off
of my clit and one of my nipples. I scream out through my gag as the pain
translates into pure sensations, sending me over the edge. I cum so hard that I
pass-out.


(to be continued)

A Slave To Politics (Part 13)
By SpeechMasterOne


God I need this vacation.   It's been almost three years since my last, and to
quote the rock band Boston, "It's been such a long time, I think I should be
going', yeah!"

The relationship between Brittany and me seems to be taking a turn for the
better.  I believe that under the super-smart, manipulative veneer is a lonely
little girl whose maniacal behavior is merely a coping mechanism. She still toys
with me at will, but I feel her expressing more compassion and tenderness
recently, which I desperately need after all I have been through.

All day yesterday I was allowed to catch up on my sleep (though I was locked to
the bed with a collar and chain), as Brittany shopped for new clothes for both
of us. We went out for dinner without any teasing or sexual behavior what so
ever. This morning she even packed suitcases for both of us while I relaxed in a
hot bath.

We rushed out to the airport without eating breakfast. I knew we were going to a
resort, but she waited until this morning to pop the surprise. We are reclining
in our first class seats on our way to a secluded (and expensive) Mexican Spa. 
It is extremely hot there this time of the year, so we are both dressed in
short, yet respectable sun dresses with 2 inch heeled sandals. Of course, I am
completely naked underneath, which I have never really gotten used to. 

As we clear the clouds and jet through the bright blue sky, I feel Brittany's
breath on my ear. "Lift up your dress and sit your tight little naked bottom on
the seat."  I look over to see a wry little grin on her face, and I know that
the game is on. Already feeling a surge of sexual lust, I do as she requests.

"Play with your cunt, my pet. I want to see you get steaming hot for me. You do
not have permission to cum. Here is a blanket," she whispers as she covers me
from the hips down. As trained, I immediately reach down and play with the naked
lips of my sex. I tickle my labia and draw light lines from my cunt to my
puckered hole. I touch my clit and rub it in light, slow circles. It has been a
few days since I have had any sexual stimulation, so I am surprised by how
powerfully my sexual need has hit me.

My nipples become little bullets tenting my dress. My breathing becomes a little
ragged and my body temperature warms dramatically. As I build up to orgasm I
realize just how much higher I must now climb to reach the peak. My entire body
is shaking as I reach the fine edge of a climax. I am even a bit dizzy as I
reluctantly move my hand away from my clit and down to my drenched lips. I toy
with my ass, as Mistress has taught me, helping me maintain most of my lust
while allowing me to back off the edge just a little. My hips rock in tiny
thrusts as I reach for my clit again. I can feel the sweat bead on my forehead.

For over two hours, I repeatedly bring myself to the edge of orgasm. I know the
seat had to stink of sex; thank God the blanket was there to mask most of the
odor. I was so preoccupied that I skipped lunch.  When nobody was looking,
Brittany would occasionally reach over and pinch one of my incredibly distended
nipples, causing me to stifle a squeal. The denial was torture, but it was a
familiar place that felt strangely comfortable.

"You may stop now. Go freshen up and find a way to clean your smelly seat. And
put these in your cunt," she whispered. She hands me a set of ben-wa balls. It
is these demands that bring back the feeling of humiliation and submission.
Somehow, I had to clean up the drenched seat without being noticed, and slip
these devilish little balls in my vagina.

I lean forward and use the blanket to dry off the seat, as well as my drenched
thighs. I tuck the blanket under the seat and walk to the restroom.  The mirror
tells me the truth. I look like a horny slut, dying for a chance to orgasm at
the whim of my Mistress. Feelings of self-pity mix with my extreme lust to cloud
my head. I squat down and roll the balls into my sopping cunt. All I can truly
concentrate on is the throbbing of my swollen clit. I press down on my nipples
to try to relieve the swelling, but without luck.

After landing, we are met at the gate by two distinguished gentleman in
chauffeur uniforms and a lady in a professional business suit. With the
greetings out of the way, we are escorted to the baggage claim, where the two
men grab our luggage and lead us out to the stretch limousine. They stare at my
large nipples pushing out the fabric of my dress. I have to squeeze my vaginal
muscles to keep the balls from falling out, which only causes them to hit each
other and vibrate. I am in a daze, fighting to keep this orgasm from washing
over me in front of these people. As we drive towards the coast, the woman pulls
out her clipboard and starts asking me a series of questions.

"Have you had anything to eat since midnight?"

"No," I say. I feel the feathery touch of Brittany's finger on the back of my
neck.

"Are you allergic to any medications?"

"No," I say distractedly.

"Are you taking any medications now?"

"No," I frown. What's with all of these medical questions?

"Who should we contact in the case of any medical emergencies?"

Brittany pipes in, "The will be me."

"Please sign the consent forms," requests the lady.

Brittany whispers into my ear, "Don't worry, my pet, I forgot to fill out your
medical history for the spa. It's just a formality. Just sign the forms and we
will be set."

I try reading the forms, but they are written in Spanish. Besides, all I can
think about is how these balls vibrate every time we hit a bump, pushing me a
fraction of an inch closer to a mind-blowing cum. I look at the comforting smile
on Brittany's face and I sign the forms.

30 minutes later, we pull up to a luxurious building, set on a hill overlooking
the ocean. I can feel the warm ocean breeze blow up my dress and onto my wet
pussy as we step out of the car.

"Shall we get started immediately? Please follow me," states the woman as she
walks elegantly down a series of hallways. Brittany explains that we must take a
physical before we can take part in any activates. We enter a plush room, were
the woman signs us in and escorts us to an examination rooms. She instructs me
to take off all of my clothes and put the gown and slippers on. She tells me to
drink the little cup and to lie down on the gurney that sits in the middle of
the room. She leaves as I change into the gown.

Brittany instructs me to remove the ben-wa balls, lick them clean and place them
in her hand. I am so horny that I can barely think. I remove the balls and pop
each in my mouth, tasting myself in the process. I dab my hairless pussy with
tissues, then down the contents of the cup and lay down on the bed.

Within a few seconds, I am woozy and I can't find my speech. I try picking up my
arms, but I find them extremely heavy. My head keeps twirling, faster and
faster, and I feel like I am falling into a hole. I finally black out.

When I wake up, I am lying in a private room with large windows overlooking the
shore. As I gain my senses, I witness the most amazing sunset I have ever seen.
My body is sore, as I start moving a bit. Brittany sees me stir.

"Nice to see you back, pet. I bet you are wondering what happened."

I nod my head.

"I love you so much that I wanted to give you a gift. Let me explain. You have
been such a good little slave, working so hard. It was inevitable that when you
lowered your body fat, you would lose some of the mass in your breasts. So I did
you a favor to remedy the problem," she says as she approaches my bed. Her hand
cradles the back of my neck and she lifts my head up, while her other hand pulls
my blanket down to my waist. I gasp at the sight.

"I have bought you breast implants. Almost a full DD. You can't see them now
because of the bandages. They will take several weeks to heal. But we can take
off the dressing tomorrow."

I am dumbfounded. My gown tents up into a mountain of material on my chest. She
changed me! Without my permission! Never in my wildest dreams did I ever
consider getting implants. My C-cups have always been large enough, and if
anything, looked larger against my newly conditioned torso. But this? My God,
DDs are huge. What will people think?

Brittany is apparently enjoying my expressions of astonishment and anguish. She
gently lowers my head back to the pillow and strokes my hair as a wave of tears
roll from my eyes. The feeling of humiliation and helplessness roars like the
winds of a hurricane. I slip back into sleep from exhaustion.

Waking up hours later, I am lying in a private room, with Brittany working on a
laptop.  I am groggy and sore. I look down at my huge chest and my heart falls
again. I can't control my thoughts as I picture myself walking around on
extremely high heels in skimpy little outfits, with my breasts sticking straight
out. I will look like a fuck toy. I have been able to hide my new life from
everyone so far. But I can't hide these. What am I going to do?

I notice that my pussy is getting moist again. I am such a slut, getting wet
with the thought of me being a fuck toy. Brittany sees me move and immediately
jumps to action. She reaches under my blanket and inserts the balls in my pussy
again.

"There we go. With no TV, we need to keep you entertained, don't we. Remember,
you are not allowed to cum without my permission. I have set up the camera on
this laptop, which will keep tabs on you while I go for dinner. Be a good girl
and you will be rewarded."

She emerges from the bathroom dressed in an evening gown that hugs her every
curve and makes her look amazing. My pussy stirs as I see her prance around in
front of the mirror, knowing the effect she is having on my libido. Then she is
off, and I left to stew in my juices and stare at the mountain that sits upon my
chest. I sleep on and off throughout the rest of the day and night, and well
into the next afternoon.

Brittany wakes me up, takes out the ben-wa balls and forces me to lick them
clean. I eat the lean lunch provided while she instructs me to be a good girl
for the Doctor or I will be punished. My chest feels heavy and a bit
uncomfortable, but not nearly as painful as yesterday. I get dressed in my robe
with nothing on underneath but the bandages and the thong panties that my
Mistress gave to me. The robe can't even close around my cleavage. I am
mortified.

A very distinguished looking English doctor visits with me. I remove my robe,
leaving me nearly naked as he removes my bandages. I turn to the mirror and am
amazed with the size of my breasts. Although my old breasts never really sagged
before, these new ones sit up perfectly on my chest. They look huge on my
strong, slim, fit body. I look like a life-sized Barbie doll, but with two
melons for breasts. I am some kind of living, breathing wet dream.  I run my
hands over the tender flesh.

"We went through your belly button, so your are left with no scars. Your breasts
will be tender for another few weeks. I want you to wear this special support
bra, but if you don't, make sure you where something with substantial support
for the next three weeks.  Your breasts will feel hard right now, but will
soften and feel much more natural as the swelling subsides. Do you have any
questions," The doctor asks as he finishes his examination.

As my fingers run over the surface of these large globes, I notice that my
nipples are hard. "When do my nipples lose their erection?" I ask.

"They will stay like that," he says with a puzzled look.

Brittany interjects, "Don't you remember, dear. You love the look of erect
nipples so much that you requested that they be modified to remain erect at all
times. And it was explained in the consent forms that the side effect of the
nipple modification is that your nipples will be hypersensitive, 24/7."  She
shows me the consent forms, written in Spanish, with my signatures and the
signatures of a third party.

My eyes become wide and I was about to yell out my protest, but the look in
Brittany's eyes told me to keep my mouth shut. Instead, I gently touch the nubs.
A bolt of electricity shoots straight from my nipples to my clit, making it
throb. God, they are hard and sensitive. I heart sinks as I realize that my
nipples will poke through any shirt or blouse that I wear.

The Doctor helps me into this massive post-surgical support bra. However, once
the Doctor leaves our room, Brittany orders me to take off the bra and put on
the half-cup bra that she has in her hand. The cups are huge, yet they barely
contain my swollen tits. My nipples are fully exposed over the edge of the cup.

"Vacation is over for you. It's back to work. Remember the rules, slut. Now
stand still, with your hands locked behind your neck. Let me play with my new
toys."

She uses that vaunted feather-like touch to feel up the swollen mounds,
occasionally brushing over my extremely sensitive nipples. I moan like a whore
and become wet quickly. She takes her time, fascinated with her new playthings
and examining them with a child-like glee. I feel a wave of humiliation wash
over me as the thought of being her lesbian fucktoy slut rolls repeatedly
through my mind. My panties become soaked as she keeps toying with my nipples.
Being fully erect, they are finally in proportion to my breasts. But they seem
much more sensitive, which is not necessarily a good thing. Each touch sends
signals straight to my growing clit.  My excitement is nearing its peak, and I
am amazed that I am close to cumming from nothing more than nipple-play.

After more than hour of this teasing, she is ready for more. "On your knees,
pet. It is time for you to start paying back the favor," she coos as she pulls
open her robe to expose her naked body. The workouts have done wonders for
Brittany. She now has a hard, lean, smoldering body that is completely hidden in
her everyday outfits.

I drop to my knees and give her wet little pussy a lick. She stops me. "You will
be punished. I did not give you permission to lick me. Grab hold of the bed
while I administer your spanking."

"Please don't. I will be good. I promise," I beg, even while I bend over as I am
told. It has been 8 days since my last spanking, but it feels like a year. I
quiver in fear as she grabs the brush from my bag.

Smack!

"One. Thank you, Mistress"

Smack!

"Two, Thank you, Mistress"

The smacks keep coming. I start to cry from the pain at number 20. I am a
blubbering idiot by number 60. I collapse on number 73. Brittany allows me to
recover, then orders me to kneel in front of her again.

"Lick me, my fuck toy. Now!"

I go to work on her shaved slit. I pay special attention to her asshole and her
clit, swirling my tongue in little circles and slowly bringing her to the crest
of her orgasm. Then I eat her to another. And another. My own pussy is screaming
for attention and throbbing in pure need.

After catching her breath from her last orgasm, she gets up and walks to one of
the suitcases. From my knees I see her displaying a bikini, with a full support
bra and a tiny, tiny thong. I catch my breath as she hands it to me and orders
me to get up and put it on.

The bra is white and reinforced with an underwire support. My new, swollen tits
spill out over the top and I struggle to it to try to hide my areolas. The
bottoms are also white and are so small that anyone who has not completely
shaved their pussy would show pubic hair. You can clearly see the outline of my
engorged labia. She tosses me a pair of high-heeled platform sandals to complete
my outfit.

I can't help but marvel at Brittany in her sleek leopard-skin tank-top bikini
with thong bottoms. Brittany turns me towards her and slides her hand under my
bottoms and rubs my bulging clit. She keeps this up until I am whimpering in
need and close to the edge. She then stops, pulls her fingers out of my wet
snatch and feeds me her fingers.

I catch a glimpse of the two of us in the full-length mirror, which is attached
to the door. My breasts look monstrous. They are bulging obscenely out of my top
and my nipples are prominently on display. My bottoms are so skimpy that I can
see a little of my moisture seep through. Brittany's manipulations caused the
bottoms to move down a little, exposing the top of my slit. I pull up the
strings on my hips to stretch the fabric to cover my charms.

"You look smoking, pet. You look like the perfect bimbo fuck toy," She smiles as
we leave the room.

(To be continued)

A Slave To Politics (Part 14)
By SpeechMaster

The afternoon sun radiates an intense heat that is only tempered by a brisk sea
breeze rolling in from the ocean. The view from the cliff-side pool is simply
breathtaking, with the blue ocean reaching out into the horizon, the waves
breaking on the soft, white sand shores, and the palm trees framing the vista.

Yet my concentration is pulled back to the intense heat radiating from between
my legs. For hours now, I have had to bathe in the sun, my body slick with oil
and sweat, as the thin fabric of my white bikini soaks through to
near-transparency. Exposing for the world the telltale signs of a slut in heat.
My boobs sitting hard on my chest like two balloons, nipples permanently hard,
my labia puffy, my toes curling and my breath lightly ragged.

You see, Brittany handed me a book to read as we arrived at the pool, with a
blank leather cover. The story turns out to be a graphic and erotically charged
tale of a teacher who was blackmailed by a student to become her sex slave.  The
more the teacher was sucked into the inescapable web of slavery, the more
aroused I become. So for hours I have been sitting, stewing in my own juices.

Some people are sneaking an occasional glance at my condition, while others
openly stare. With my translucent pool wear, my huge new breasts, my gleaming
tanned body, and my apparently aroused condition, I am the center point of
attention. The more I read, the more I aroused I become, causing my public
humiliation to increase. And if I know Brittany, more devious things are to
come.

Two particularly handsome men sit at a table at the other end of the pool. They
kept staring at us, talking about us, and pointing fingers at us. Eventually,
Brittany crooks her finger towards one of them, beckoning him to come to her. He
jumps from his seat saunters over, his tall frame and lean, powerful muscles
augmenting an athletic grace.

"I hope you don't mind if I come over and introduce myself. My name is Jake, "
he says as he extends his hand out to Brittany, then to me.

"Well, Jake, it is certainly nice to meet you. My name is Brittany, and this is
my sex slave, Alicia," Brittany proudly boasts. Oh My God! What did she say? I
shot Brittany a look of pure mortification. Jake is silently stunned for what
seems like minutes, before gaining back his composure. All the while, Brittany
is smiling.

"That is something you don't hear everyday," Jake responds, now with a sly smile
of his own. He can't take his eyes off my huge boobs. My highly charged arousal
level spikes even higher. "What exactly does your slave do?" He asks boldly.

"Everything I wish. She is an insatiable slut who follows my every order. It is
apparent to everyone here how aroused she is just laying out at the pool."  Then
Brittany crooks her finger again, and as Jake leans forward, she whispers not so
softly, "Maybe you and your horny friend would like to use her later?" My heart
beats a mile a minute as Brittany flashes her mischievous grin.

Jake's bathing suit is helpless to conceal his excitement. He leans back, looks
both of us over, and says, "How can we refuse such a generous offer. We will
meet you at the restaurant bar at 7:00PM?" He oozed confidence.

"Jake, 7:00PM it is. And get your rest, big boy!" She exclaims with a wink. Jake
smiles and adjusts his hard-on through his boxers. He struts to edge of the pool
like a proud rooster and dives in, apparently to cool down from such a steamy
exchange.

"Well my pet, looks like we have our evening plans set," she says in an ice-cold
tone. With a sense of both anticipation and dread, I know that I am in for a
long night.

It is late afternoon, so Brittany whispers, "We must go, we have much to prepare
for."

Slipping on the high-heeled sandals, I feel a bit shaky rising from the chair. 
I need to cum something fierce, and as Brittany parades me the long way around
the pool, I am sure everyone can see just how desperate I really am.  I am
top-heavy with my huge tits, causing me to occasionally teeter off balance. My
cheeks are flushed with embarrassment as people stare. They shoot me looks of
disbelief, or disgust, or most often, of pure lust. But they ALL stare. I just
want to run and hide, but my owner would never allow that.

Once back at the room, Brittany orders me to stand in position, with my hands
locked behind my head and my feet spread apart. "Did you see all of the people
staring at your sex crazed slut body? Some where so disgusted," Brittany purrs
as she lightly scratches her fingernail down my flat stomach.

"Some wanted to fuck you," she says as she toys with the fabric of my thin
little bikini, teasing my swollen lips. I let out a frustrated moan.

"And some wanted to use you like a bimbo fuck toy," she whispered, all the while
toying with my pussy and flicking her nail across my turgidly erect clit. I was
grunting and thrusting my hips as she manipulates me.  She stares straight into
my eyes while she brings closer and closer. She can read every thought and
anticipate every reaction. I helplessly moan as she brings me to the very
precipice of orgasm. Then she stops!  I groan in utter frustration.

"Go clean yourself, you smelly pig," she barked as she removed her hand.

Because of my healing breasts, I have to take a "bird bath"  with a washcloth
and soap. I can't help but stare longingly at her young, tight, sexy body as she
takes a soothing shower.  She looks exquisite with her perky breasts, flat
stomach, tight ass and strong legs. It is amazing that she can transform herself
from a hot looking sex kitten when naked, to a cute but almost forgettable
looking girl when dressed. She is like a chameleon. 

I towel off Brittany, and then lull off into a daydream about her body as I rub
her down with oil. Brittany moans as I rub the lotion deeply into her
breasts...her ass...her freshly shaved vagina.  I am nearly panting as I finish
her nearly flawless legs.

"Wow, my pet, you have certainly put me in the mood. Put on a heavy amount of
make-up for tonight. We don't want to disappoint those two hunks, do we?" she
winked as she drifted into the bedroom.

Although I don't have to shave my pussy anymore, I have to pluck the few rogue
hairs that appear from time to time, which is a degrading part of my daily
preparations for my owner. I then rub lotion into my skin, being careful not to
stimulate my hypersensitive clit and nipples. I spend extra time massaging the
oil into my swollen breasts. I marvel at their size and firmness. I finish by
applying a heavy coat of makeup, as instructed. 

Laid out on the bed is my outfit for the evening. A heavily boned 1/4-cup white
bra, which lifts my huge melons and push my nipples out. Next is a tiny
vibrating ring that fits snugly around the base of my clit. I have to dry my
thick clit with a tissue, then it enough to slip the ring into place. And the
whole time I have to fight a mounting orgasm.  Once I let go, the clit snaps
back, securing the ring in place and guaranteeing that my clit stays thick and
sensitive for as long as I wear it. 

I strap on a pair of 5-inch heels and wiggle into the tight fitting blue dress.
My long nipples push rigid tents in the fabric. I stare into the mirror and
again see a porno version of a Barbie doll. Brittany glides behind me and stares
at my reflection.  She tenderly runs her fingers down my neck, tracing a line
down my arms with her feathery touch. My skin is so sensitive that I moan in
response.

"We will be late. Hurry up," she orders as she marches out of the room.

My first set of steps brings a shuddering surprise. The clit ring wiggles around
as I walk, sending delicious signals to the heart of my sex. By the time I
arrive at the elevator, my breathing is shallow and I am leaking juices. 

Brittany snuggles close to my ear and whispers, "You are not allowed to cum
without my permission. No matter what happens tonight, you are not cum without
my say-so, or there will be dire consequences."

Oh Lord!  How will I survive tonight?!

We arrive at the bar to find our gorgeous men waiting for us.

"Hi, my name is Brian," says Jake's friend as he takes our hands and kisses
them. "You two are a pleasant surprise for our vacation. Jake has told me a few
interesting items which I would love to explore further," he says seductively
and gives me a wink. Like Jake, Brian is another tall, lean and athletic man in
his late 20s.  Despite myself, my trapped clit throbs.

Over drinks we find out that they are both lawyers from Boston taking a
much-needed vacation. "The 80-90 hour weeks are a little tough on the social
life. No time for serious girl friends. I had to settle with this guy, who is as
big of loser as I am," Jake grins. " What do the two of you do...for work, that
is?"

"We both work in politics," she says in that matter-of-fact way that puts a
period at the end of the thought, taking any further discussion off the table.

Both Brian and Jake can't take their eyes off my tits. I am basking in the
sexual aura radiating around the table. With my clit squeezed by the ring, I am
dribbling juices onto my seat.

Dinner is first class, but rushed. We all have an urgency to move the party to
our suite.

"Meet us in room 2301 in fifteen boys," Brittany winks.

The walk back creates an urgency as well. The little ring pushes me to the edge
of a gigantic orgasm and I fight with all of my will not to cum. My entire body
is trembling by the time we arrive to our suite.

Brittany dresses me in a black, snap corset with open bra cups to hold my two
balloons. I roll up the silk hose and snap them to the garters hanging from the
corset. I fasten the buckles to the 5-inch heels. Brittany returns to the room
wearing a navy blue cat suit hugging every sexy curve and crevice of her body.
She snaps on a thick collar around my neck and locks it, then and secures my
heels with two luggage locks. She uses some rope to tie my wrists together, then
circle my forearms until my elbows pull close (they usually touch, but the
surgery mad my chest hard and sore), thrusting my huge breasts out even further.

Brittany straightens my clothes and my hair, and then reaches down and toys with
my engorged labia and sensitive clit, still captured by the tight little ring. I
groan my need and breath raggedly as my owner primes me for our company. As
usual, she stops at the peak. She gives each nipple a quick hard tweak and leads
me by the leash out to the living area.

"On your knees. There you go. Good Girl!," she purrs as I submissively kneel
facing the door. "If you are a good slut tonight, you might get some dick. If I
am truly impressed by your actions, I might even let you cum tonight. Do you
want to cum, my pet?" She asks as she gazes deep into my eyes. In a flash, my
predicament hits me - I am a smart, self-confident and successful professional
woman over a decade her senior - kneeling, bound, dressed like a bimbo sex toy
and pumping out sex juice like a spicket. And all I can think about is how to
serve my owner and relieve this orgasmic itch that is ruling most of my
thoughts. Just the thought of possibly getting some cock in me has me panting
like a puppy dog.

I feel a tear roll down my cheek as I nod.

She grabs my chin and pulls my head up briskly, "I did not hear you."

"I need to cum tonight, Mistress."

"And why?" she taunts.

"I am cum-addictive sex toy who thinks about orgasms all of the time, Mistress."
I am shocked by the ferocity of my declaration.

"Correct. I expect you to act like one. Make me proud or suffer a rather
unpleasant day tomorrow."

We hear a knock. Brittany winks at me and opens the door. Our two smiling studs
stop dead in the entryway, staring at my body and practically drooling. I can
see their cocks growing rapidly in their slacks.

"You are to refer to her as Slut. You may play with her as you wish, with some
strict rules. Her tits are new, so don't damage them. You can use her in anyway
you want, but you are not to fuck her cunt. And she is not allowed to cum unless
I give her permission. Any violation and the evening ends immediately.
Understood?...good! Now get your clothes off and fuck me."

These two hunks waste no time tearing their clothes off, as Brittany pulls my
leash and leads everyone into the bedroom. She has me kneel as the three of them
kiss passionately and fall onto the bed. With an animalistic force, they rip the
body glove off of Brittany and mount her on her hands and knees, Jake taking her
vagina while Brian fucks her mouth. The action is hot. Very hot! I want it to
happen to me. The beautiful, large, throbbing cocks pound my owner. Brittany
moaning and groaning in pure ecstasy. I whimper in need.

Brian pulls out, points his penis at me and spews a load all over me. Rope after
rope of creamy white jism land in my hair, my face, my chest. He swaggers into
the bathroom to pee while Jake continues to saw into Brittany. I just kneel
there and watch helplessly.

"Do you want to clean me off?" Brian asks me in such a cute, boyish way when he
returns. I nod my head. I have to do it. The thing is, I do want to. I need cock
so bad that I don't care how I get it. Brian holds up his limp penis as I extend
my tongue. I swirl my tongue around the sensitive gland, then lean forward and
suck his soft member between my lips. I roll my tongue up and down the
underside. His penis rapidly expands to its full turgid length.

Jake screams out his climax, pumping and spasming while Brittany is finishing
what must be her third orgasm. Her body gleams with a layer of perspiration, her
hands grabbing violently on the sheets as she is rocked with another tectonic
orgasm.

Jake gets up from the bed, himself glistening with sweat. He looks like a God to
me. He relieves himself, and then uses my mouth to bring his cock back to life.
All the while, Brian and Brittany fuck again.

And so the cycle went. For two hours, I would service one while the other fucked
Brittany. Everyone came over and over and over again. Except me. I struggle to
hold back the tears that threaten to overwhelm me. My knees hurt, my back aches,
my jaws are tired, and my clit is throbbing. I had no idea that my torment had
just begun.

After they rested and cooled down, the three of them whispered and pointed at
me. The two men approach me, pick me up and set me on the bed. They untie my
arms, Strip me, only to retie my hands spread to the top corners of the bed.
They pull my legs up and tie them to the same corners, spreading my legs wide
pointing my ass and cunt toward the ceiling, completely vulnerable and exposed.
My hips are tied down to the footboard.

Brittany mounts my face. "Be a good slave and clean out all of the fine jism
that these wonderful studs have deposited."

As I obediently start to lick her pussy, the men grab the clit ring and roughly
yank it off. The cunt in my face muffles my scream and I pull hard on my
restraints. My clit throbs, first with the shot of pain, and then with a wash of
overwhelming need. A pull of my hair draws my attention back to Brittany, and I
dig in to her tender folds.  I feel a tickle on the tip of my clit and I grunt
as it drives me out of my mind. With increased intensity I feast on Brittany
while they torture my engorged bud.  The tiny, incessant tickling on my clit
goes on and on. I am so in need of an orgasm I feel my head swoon.

I suck all the leaking cum from her as I start to toy with her clit. She reacts
by pressing harder on my lips. I feel something else tickling my puffy labia.

I have to cum so bad. But since I don't have permission, I hold it back. On and
on it goes. I feel a tickling move from my clit to my nipples. And from my labia
to my little puckered hole. I fight the growing orgasm with every ounce of
energy. I need them to stop. I scream out into Brittany's cunt as I lick and
suck like a wild woman.

Yet they keep pushing me. I feel a hand smack down on my ass. The distraction is
welcome. Another smack. And another. The tickling moves back to the tip of my
clit. Another smack. I feel an even larger orgasmic tidal wave approach. I fight
and scream. It is almost impossible to catch my breath.  My mind goes blind with
the massive effort.

I can feel Brittany cum and flood my face with her discharge. She lies back
against the head board as she winds down and watches the men play with my body.
Knowing how distreesed I am, she asks, "How bad do you want to cum?"

"PLEASE!........PLEASE....LET ME......CUM..... MISTRESS!!!...PLEASE!!!!!!!"

"And why do you need to cum?"

"THIS SLUT'S PUSSY..... AND TITS....... ARE BEING TOYED.......WITH.......
MISTRESS," I say in between breaths. The hands keep pushing me.

"Why should I give you permission to cum?"

"I WILL.....I WILL........DO ANYTHING......YOU WANT.....MISTRESS!!!!"  This has
got to end, or I will not survive. I can see nothing but mounting excitement
from my three bedmates.

"Anything?" She askes with gleeful excitement?

"YES.......JUST....LET........ME...CUM....MISTRESS!!!!" 

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