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Collected by djian
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The Beginning BY JYM
F/F/F Bnd
I never did find my niche, but it found me on a lonely road in rural Massachusetts one hot August afternoon. My father thought forcing me into teaching would be just the thing to straighten me out, so I guess the joke is on him.
He forced me to take a teaching job by cutting off my allowance and threatening to write me out of his will. Up until I started teaching I'd never done anything useful with my college degree. I was content to enjoy life - traveling the world, partying, sleeping with every guy who caught my fancy, all the while supported by my father's money. It was inevitable that he'd get tired of my shit and do something about it.
And he did. I arrived at Stone Ridge academy in the late summer of 1994. It's located in a small town in the Berkshires. Stone Ridge is a place where rich parents send problem kids to straighten them out. I suppose it's ironic that my father got me the teaching job there, but maybe the old man does have a sense of humor.
My name is Dana Dawes and I was a week shy of my 25th birthday when I arrived at Stone Ridge. I'm a very beautiful brunette with long sleek legs, a nice figure, and big brown eyes. I'm 34c-25-35, stand 5'7" and weigh about 123 pounds. My first year at Stone Ridge went pretty well, all things considered.
It was hard to get used to living in a small town (population less than 2000) and learning to deal with a bunch of kids who act just like I did was no stroll in the park. But I was shocked to learn that I enjoyed teaching, still do in fact. It's just my personal circumstances that have changed. I lived alone the first year, in a room in one of the dorms - part of the job was supervising the brats when they weren't in class.
I kept to myself pretty much and concentrated on making a go of it. I didn't want to get cut out of daddy's will! One teacher who's much admired by the male population is Jill Barrett, the girl's physical education teacher. She's in her late twenties, tall, blonde, athletic, and easily the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And I've seen quite a few. She was courteous and helpful, but maintained a certain reserve, a distinct coolness.
At first I thought it was me - another woman, beautiful, and a potential rival. But I soon realized that she treated everyone the same. I didn't get any vacation this year (1995) and spent the summer teaching remedial classes.
I did get away for a couple of weekends, but that was it. In August, during a major heatwave, I drove to Boston on a Friday night and spent the weekend with an old flame. It was great - dinner, a show, a Red Sox game, and some great sex. It was over all to soon and I drove back to Stone Ridge on Sunday afternoon.
I wanted to rest before classes on Monday. Remedial classes are the pits! I was close to Stone Ridge, maybe five or six miles away, when a tire blew out on a stretch of rural road and my car went into a ditch. I was wearing my seatbelt and the airbag deployed, so I wasn't hurt, but my car wasn't drivable. I locked it up, put a note on the windshield and started walking. I'd walked a little over a mile, and was sweating like crazy before a car passed and pulled over. It was Jill. She stepped out of her car, a gray Accord, looking cool and sophisticated in a halter-style tennis dress that displayed her perfect figure and long, tanned legs. She leaned against the trunk with her arms folded and watched, smiling, as I approached. "Need a ride?" She inquired. I nodded, "God, yes! It's so hot and there hasn't been another car since I've been walking." "I saw your car back there. What happened?" She straightened up as I approached. "Tire blew and it was in the ditch before I could react. I'm so happy you came along. I don't think I could walk another mile in this heat!"
Jill smiled. "It is hot, and so humid. But if you want a ride you're going to have to beg for one. On your knees. Nude. Like the slave you are." I stared at her in shock. "What are you talking about? I'm no slave! Are you crazy?" She just grinned. "I've been watching you. You need someone to control your life. Keep you on the straight-and-narrow so you can inherit daddy's money." Suddenly her hand shot out and she slapped me across the face. Hard. She's 5'10" and very strong and the slap rocked me back on my heels. I touched my hand to my cheek and stared at her with tears in my eyes. She slapped me again. "Now get those clothes off and get down on your knees and beg! Or you can walk back and when you get there we can do this again! Do you strip now or later?" I dropped my eyes and whispered, "Now." She slapped me again. "You're first lesson - call me ma'am or Miss Jill or Mistress, and be polite. And answer fully. Now try again." Another slap reinforced the lesson. I was crying, but I stifled my sobs and whispered, "I'll strip now, ma'am." She nodded and I started to unbutton my blouse. She opened the trunk of her Accord and told me to throw my clothes in as I removed them. My blouse was followed closely by my linen shorts and my sandals. Then I reached back and unhooked my bra. "Very nice," Jill commented as my firm round tits tumbled free. "I like your tan lines." I could feel myself blushing as I bent to push my panties down over my hips. Jill chuckled. "I love a modest little slave!" After tossing my panties into the trunk, I went to my knees and begged for a ride back to school. She made me grovel on my belly in the dirt and lick the dust off the toes of her tennis shoes. I was shocked to discover that I was excited. Very excited. She let me lick the toes of her sneakers for a couple of minutes before nudging me away and telling me to crawl around to the passenger door. As I crawled around to the side of the car, she kicked me between my legs. Sobbing, I crawled faster to avoid more punishment. She opened the door and I crawled in, remaining crouched on the floor as ordered. As she drove, she talked about what was expected of me. I would move into her quarters to 'share' them. Her roommate had just left to take another job and nobody would think anything of it. I would be responsible for all of the cooking, cleaning, and laundry. I would also be responsible for the upkeep of the house, the yard, and the automobile. Mine would be sold and the money put into a CD. I would have a wardrobe for school. Around the house, which was surrounded by a high stockade fence and many evergreens and other plantings, I would remain nude at all times. Regardless of the season. I would have one jogging bra, one pair of running shorts and one pair of shoes. I would be expected to run five miles everyday before 6 a.m. When we arrived back at school she parked in a hidden spot behind the gym and got my clothes out of the trunk. She watched me dress and then we got back into the car and she dropped me at the dorm. I went inside and packed. Everything I owned fit into two large suitcases. None of the furniture in the room was mine. I called Jill when I was ready and she came to pick me up. Her quarters, owned by school, are across campus on a hill near the gym. The house is small, but cozy. The exterior is brick and it was built in the '20s. The stockade fence was added a few years ago to give the occupant some privacy. As we approached the gate, Jill pressed a button on a remote and the gate swung open. Once inside, she pulled up to the garage and parked. I was trembling from a mixture of fear and excitement as I got out and followed her into the house. My suitcases went right up to her room where I unpacked and allowed her to sort through my clothes. Dresses, skirts, and most blouses went into the closet for school wear, many things went onto the floor for the trash (all my panties, bras, pantyhose, and slacks) and some went into a pile to be altered. (Jeans - to be converted to shorts for instance). When that was done, Jill had me strip and shower. The shower was symbolic I guess - to cleanse me before I began my new life as her slave. When the shower was over she ordered me to kneel and rest my head on the shower mat. She prepared an enema while I watched with fearful eyes. She hung the bag from a hook sent in the ceiling and then slipped the greased nozzle into my ass. She sat beside me and massaged my belly while the three quarts of soapy water filled my bowels. When the bag was empty, she removed the nozzle and replaced it with a large, tight butt plug. "You'll hold this for 15 minutes. We'll go out into the back yard and I'll show you my gardens." I nodded. "Yes, mistress. Thank you." I followed her down the stairs, walking very slowly. We paused in the kitchen and she had me hold my arms out in front of me with my hands clasped while she tied my wrists together. Not tightly, but tight enough so that I couldn't get out. We walked around while she showed off her gardens. They're quite nice and well-planned. After fifteen minutes had passed, she took me over to the fence and had me stand on a wooden box, facing the fence, and she looped the rope around my wrist over a hook in the top of one of the fence posts. Then she pulled the box out from under my feet, leaving me hanging by my wrists, my toes barely touching the ground. Then she spread my buttocks and pulled the butt plug out. She pushed one hand between me and the fence and massaged my belly. I turned and whispered, "Please, don't make me do this! Please, let me go to the bathroom. Please mistress, please don't humiliate me like this!" Jill grinned. "But that's the whole purpose. To humiliate you. To make you realize that you have no privacy, that your a slave. Now be a good girl and expel it. You do want to be a good girl, don't you?" Then she slapped me on the ass. "Or would you rather be persuaded with a good hard spanking?" "No, mistress, I don't want a spanking. I want to be a good girl." Then, weeping in shame, I expelled the contents of my bowels. I felt the water and shit splash on my legs and wished I could crawl into a hole and die. But, at the same time, I felt a perverted sense of satisfaction - I was a good girl and wouldn't be spanked. Jill washed me with a hose and then let me down. Then she took me up to the patio, gagged me, and bent me over a chair. I screamed into the gag as she beat me with a braided leather belt. When it was over, I crawled to her on my belly, sobbing, and licked her bare feet while I begged her to let me prove to her that I could be a good slave. She crouched and ruffled my hair. "The best way to prove that would be to stretch out on the table with your legs spread and beg to be pussy-whipped." I stared up at her in shocked disbelief. A minute later I was on the table, legs spread. "Please, Miss Jill, whip my pussy. Please, whip it hard." I lay there and took ten hard strokes between my legs. I sobbed and begged, but I didn't move. After it was over, I went inside on my hands and knees, a form of locomotion that I was to get well acquainted with over the next few months. I was sent up to shower again, and Jill made me go up the stairs on my knees, hands clasped behind my neck. It was hard! Especially with her behind me, whipping me along with that damn braided belt! I was sobbing again by the time I got to the top. My knees ached for hours. The stairs are hardwood and not carpeted. This time, before my shower, my long hair was clipped short and I was shaved. After the shower, when I was dry and had brushed my teeth, I went into the bedroom and found Jill sitting on the bed cross-legged and nude. Her body was fantastic - firm, pointy tits and those long beautiful legs. She was shaved too and as she moved to sit on the edge of the bed I knew what was coming. I had tried sex with a couple of girls in college and it didn't do anything for me, so I wasn't a virgin in that respect. But to be expected to provide continually sexual services as a slave was something new. I went to my knees in the doorway and approached Jill with downcast eyes. "Please, mistress, may I satisfy you with my tongue?" She sighed and stroked my hair. "Such a good slave. Yes, you may satisfy me with your tongue. Begin at my feet." I crouched and licked and kissed each toe on both feet. Then I worked my way up her lovely calves, paying a good deal of attention to her delicately sculpted knees. Even more time was spent licking and kissing her long firm thighs. By the time I ran my tongue up the furrow between her legs she was dripping. She moaned with pleasure as I teased her with my tongue. "Oh God! You are a great little cunt-licker!" I slipped my hands under her buttocks and lifted her so that I had full access to her sex. After a minute or two I began to tease her anus with the tip of one finger. When she pushed against my finger, I nipped her clit and drove my finger deep into her tight ass. She threw her head back and screamed in pleasure as her orgasm tore through her. She rewarded me by strapping on a huge dildo and raping my virgin asshole as I whimpered and begged. God, it was so right! And that was only the beginning of my slavery. On Monday, I taught a remedial class wearing a clingy gray dress, white thigh highs, and black medium-heeled pumps. The way my breasts bounced when I moved made it clear to all that I was braless. And I heard one girl say to another, "Look, no panty lines. She must be nude under that dress." It was so deliciously humiliating. After class one of the girls, a cute little redhead, stayed after to ask some questions. Something she'd never done before. Jill had ordered me not to resist if any of the girls made advances, but I was not to initiate anything. The redhead, Amy, was wearing shorts and a cropped T-shirt. She's a small girl, no more than 5'4", but she has a great little body and she's pretty - big green eyes and lots of freckles. As I answered her questions, she casually reached out and put her hand on my ass. I glanced at her, but didn't say a word. She went over and closed the door. I heard the lock click before she turned away from the door. I stood by my desk and stared at her in silence as she walked back from the door. "Are you wearing anything under your dress?" She smiled as she spoke because she knew the answer already. I shook my head. She grinned. "Show me." I stooped and caught the hem of my dress and lifted it smoothly over my head. I folded it neatly and put it down on the desk. Then I stood with my hands at my sides and stared at the far wall while Amy stroked me. She cupped my tits and squeezed them gently. I sighed and closed my eyes. She teased my nipples erect with the balls of her thumbs. "Do you like this?" I nodded. "Oh, yes!" "And this?" I sighed as her hand worked between my legs. "Oh God, yessss!" "Is it true that you're Jill's slave?" My eyes opened in shock. Amy giggled. "Jill told me you were. Do you think I'd do this if she hadn't put me up to it? Now get up and squat on your desk - knees apart." I obeyed. And moaned with pleasure as she worked her small hand into my cunt and fist-fucked me. My orgasm was incredible! Then I was down on my knees and eating her delicious young pussy. She was bare and wet and so eager. I knew that life at Stone Ridge was going to be memorable from then on. Amy kissed me before she left and whispered, "Next time I fist your ass." I shivered and whispered, "Please....." And she did. Many times. Blackmailed into Slavery, F/F Bnd - heavy I had just ended a long D/s relationship with a delightful slave when I ran into Dee again. I had taken my slave as far as she could go, at least with me, and had released her to seek a new master or mistress. I felt she was really in need of the latter as she was interesting in exploring some aspects of her nature that only another woman could explore with her. I wished her luck and we parted friends. It was a few days later that I ran into Dee in the cafeteria at the office. Dee and I had worked together for more than a year. Then she had accepted a new job in another division. I still saw her occasionally, but not that often. I was reading a report when she walked by and gave me a cheery "Hello." As I watched her walk away, admiring her trim figure and sleek shapely legs, it suddenly hit me that she would make an ideal slave. And it would be a real challenge to enslave her, one worthy of my efforts. At the time, Dee was thirty-two, married, the mother of two. She was about 5'4", vivacious and pretty, with a compact build, sandy brown hair worn rather short, and brown eyes. I knew a little about her background and I knew her to be a somewhat prim and proper woman, a devoted wife and mother. But I sensed a streak of sensuality that she hadn't suppressed completely. And a hint of submissiveness. Or was that wishful thinking? Time would tell. Over the next couple of months I made a concerted effort to seduce Dee. To no avail, nothing worked. She was steadfast and loyal, although flattered by my efforts. I was about to give up when a misdirected fax message delivered her into my hands. Not overnight, I had to do some further investigation and obtain some addition documents but, within another month I was ready and she was mine for the taking. The fax by itself was harmless, but it had triggered a memory and further digging had uncovered an ongoing scam that had cost the company a lot of money. Each incident was small and slipped through the cracks, but over the years it added up to a hefty sum. A nice addition to one's income. I called Dee one Friday morning in early July and asked her if she could come to my office that afternoon at four to discuss a new opportunity. She was hesitant because she normally leaves work by 3:30. I told her I understood. "Oh, by the way, have you ever heard of a company called Precision Products?" I heard a gasp followed by a short silence. Then Dee told me she'd meet me at 4:00 p.m. I was ready and waiting when she arrived. She sat in the chair by my desk and crossed her legs, showing her dimpled knees and a generous length of smooth, firm thigh. I handed her a copy of the original fax and asked her to read it. I sat back and watched, enjoying my view of her legs, aware that I would soon see much more of her. She read the fax and set it down on my desk. "So, what's this about? I don't see any mention of Precision Products, whoever they are." I had to admire her. "Nice try, a very nice try. But I've got you. Show me your tits. Now!" She jumped to her feet and headed for my door, sputtering that she was going to report me to personnel. "OK, tell them about Janice Markham and Pioneer Cleaning too." She stopped dead in her tracks and turned around. I waved a folder and set it down on top of the fax. "It's all in here. The whole story. All five years of it." Her shoulders slumped and she started to walk back to my desk. "Stop, go back and lock my door. I don't want to be disturbed. And call your husband, tell him you'll be working late. Until about 9:00, maybe later. That should give us plenty of time." She sat down and made the call. When she put the phone down she gave me a bleak look and asked what was next. "I don't want you to go to jail and I don't want you fired. Sign the top paper in that folder and hand it to me. Then you will stop the scam. And for the next year you will be my loyal, willing sex slave. At the end of the year I'll give you the originals of the papers in that folder and you'll be free. Otherwise you can delight the bull dykes up at state prison for the next 7-10 years. Your choice." She stared at me in silence for a moment. Then she opened the folder, read the top page, and hastily scrawled her signature across it. It was a simple confession of her crime and an agreement to accept a year of slavery as punishment. Incriminating for both of us, binding us together for a year. I signed it and made her a copy, placing the original in my office safe. Then I sat down and gave her a long look that caused her to blush. "I believe I asked you to show me your tits, didn't I?" She hesitated, then nodded. "Yes," she whispered. I leaned over and slapped her across the face. "Yes, what? Be respectful. And now I want to see more of you. Stand up and remove your blouse and skirt." She rubbed her cheek and blinked. "Yes, sir." She stood up and slowly unbuttoned her blouse, slipping it off finally and laying it across the back of the chair she'd been sitting in. Then she unsnapped her skirt and eased it off, laying it carefully atop the blouse. When she straighten up I caught my breath. She was wearing a plain cotton bra and matching panties. But instead of pantyhose she was wearing white thigh highs. She was nicely tanned. Her hips were a trifle wide, but otherwise her body was perfect. She obviously worked hard to stay in shape. Her stomach was flat and her navel deep and perfectly round. I gestured and she turned to give me a view of her back. Nice broad shoulders to balance her hips. A firm, full ass. And her thighs looked as good from the back as they had from the front. I told her to remain facing away while she removed her bra. Her hands came up and unhooked it and it joined the growing pile of clothes on the chair. Then I had her turn around slowly, revealing full, firm tits with hard, pointy brown nipples. Just the slightest trace of sag, enough to make her tits more erotic than if they'd been perfect. She was a real woman, not a plastic goddess from the magazines. Her panties came next. I was mildly surprised to see that her pubic bush was wild and untrimmed. That didn't go with the tanlines that showed on her body. I asked her about it and she blushed again. "Sir, my husband likes to see pussy hair when I wear a bikini. The children are too young to notice." I smiled. "Do you show pussy hair on public beaches?" She hesitated before nodding and whispering, "Yes sir." "How do you feel about that?" She glanced toward the window before answering. "It makes me feel like a slut. And it excites me.....sir." I told her to keep her stockings and shoes - medium heeled black pumps - on and turn around. When she was standing with her back to me I told her to spread her legs a comfortable distance apart and then bend forward from the waist until her torso was parallel with the floor. When she had done so, I told her to reach back and spread herself so that I could get a look at her asshole. She obediently reached back and spread her buttocks. Her anus was a tightly pucker little ring, dusting pink shading to beige/brown. "Have you been fucked in the ass?" She shook her head but I caught the tiniest hesitation. She was lying. I let it ride for the moment. I had her turn back toward me and squat with her feet together and her knees spread. I showed her how to place her hands on her thighs and told her that that was position #1. "Remember it. When I snap my fingers and say 'one' this is the position you will assume." She nodded. "Yes, sir, I'll remember." I had a sudden thought. I leaned and slipped my hand between her legs. She was sopping. I held my wet finger in front of her mouth and she licked it clean without being prompted. "You like the humiliation, don't you?" Another nod. "Yes, sir, I do. Very much." "Good. You'll get plenty of it over the course of the next year." I stood up then and unzipped my pants. My cock was hard and I stepped close and told her to suck me. She took me in her mouth and gave me a wonderful blow job. Just as I was about to cum, I pulled out and shot my load over her face, tits, and belly. She took it with her eyes wide open. I let her squat there while my cum dried on her body. Then I told her to put her blouse and skirt on and we'd go somewhere more private. "Where I can hear you cry when I spank you." She dressed without a word and tucked her underwear into her purse. It was after 5:00 by then and we didn't see anyone except a female security guard as we walked across the lobby to the exit. I pointed out my car and told her to follow me to my place. I told her to park in my garage as I had an extra space. When we got to my house I opened one garage door and she pulled inside. I parked on the driveway in front of the middle of the three doors. She removed her skirt and blouse and left them in her car as I had instructed. She got out of her car and walked forward until she was standing in the doorway. She didn't seem to mind that she was visible to anyone passing by. Not easily visible because my driveway is 150 feet long, but visible just the same. I stopped and admired the way she looked standing there in stocking and shoes, dried cum on her face and body. My house is located in a wealthy suburb. The houses are large and set on large, fairly private lots. My property is extensively and expensively landscaped. I've done a lot of the work myself and I'm proud of it. I had Dee remove her heels and then I took her on a tour of the grounds. Before we left the garage, I put leather cuffs on her wrists and cuffed them behind her back. Then I put a leather collar around her neck. I snapped a leash on the collar and led her out. She was blushing but she didn't protest. Not a peep. But I had made a call from my car phone and, as planned, my neighbor, Sara, was out and about. Dee hung back as soon as we walked around to the side of the house and saw Sara coming toward us. Sara is a tall, thirtyish redhead, never married and wealthy in her own right. We met a few days after she bought the house next door to mine. Later, after she was settled, we had dinner and discovered a mutual interest in D/s. Sara is domme and a lesbian, so our interests coincide more than if she was hetero. She's also a stunning beauty - long red hair, jade green eyes, a slim supple body with small firm tits and long beautiful legs. She was barefoot, wearing shorts and a little cropped top. Sara and I fuck occasionally, but the basis of our friendship is our interest in D/s and our willingness to share our slaves. Her current slave, Joanna, is a college senior. She's just 21, a long, limber California blonde. I knew that Joanna was due back from a quick visit home and was looking forward to putting her with Dee. But the first priority was to teach Dee some manners. I jerked the leash and pulled her forward, forcing her to her knees in front of Sara. I'd given Sara a quick rundown over the phone and she knew enough to proceed. She took Dee's leash and wrapped it around her left hand. She had a wide, thick leather strap in her right hand. And Dee felt it across her firm buttocks a moment later. I was ready. When Dee's mouth opened I stuffed a ball gag in, cutting off her scream. Then, after it was secure, Sara gave her a good hard dozen across her ass. After the punishment was over, we took Dee out to my patio and put her on her knees. Tears streamed down her face as she looked back and forth from me to Sara. "Sara, do you want to whip her tits now or have her eat you?" Sara grinned. "Tough choice. I wonder if the slut has an opinion? She leaned forward and removed the ball gag. Dee, still sobbing, whimpered, "Please, let me eat you! Please!" Sara nodded and lifted herself off the seat long enough to remove her shorts. Then she pulled her top off. I sat and enjoyed the sight of two lovely nude women having sex. One on her knees, eating pussy for the first time. But not the last. Not by a long shot! After Sara was brought to a very satisfying orgasm, she leaned forward and licked her juices from Dee's lips and chin. "Now, Dee, you have another choice. You can have your tits whipped, twenty hard ones, or you can walk over and jump into the deep end of the pool." Dee glanced at me but I shrugged and she knew that I wouldn't help her. Then she got up and walked over to the edge of the pool and jumped in. Her hands were still cuffed behind her back. Sara glanced at me and chuckled. "The bitch really doesn't want to have her tits whipped!" We walked over and stood watching Dee struggle in the deep end. She kept herself afloat by kicking hard but it was obvious that she was slowly drowning. She didn't call for help, just stared at us as she struggled and lost. As she was going down for probably the last time, Sara jumped in and pulled her to safety. As Dee crouched on the edge of the pool, on all fours, gasping for breath, Sara slipped a hand between her legs and began to masturbate her. Dee lifted her head and stared at me with a strangely intent look on her face as Sara skillfully masturbated her to orgasm. As her orgasm hit, Dee threw her head back and whimpered with pleasure. Later, with Dee again on her knees in front of us, Sara glanced at me and then back at Dee. "Slave," she asked, "How long has it been since you've had an orgasm?" Dee looked at me and I nodded. "Three years," she whispered. Sara glanced at me and arched one brow. Then back at Dee. "And how long, slave, since you've been fucked?" Dee shrugged. "Three years." I was stunned. I asked her to explain. "My husband doesn't want any more children and he refuses to practice birth control. It's against his religion. So, the last time I got fucked was the last time I was pregnant." Sara and I glanced at each other. This was an interesting development, a very interesting development indeed! Sara turned to Dee again and asked her if she wanted to have sex again. Dee glanced back and forth from Sara to me and then back to Sara. "Yes, please! Oh God, yes! I want it!" Sara leaned forward and cupped Dee's full, firm tits. She squeezed them gently, running her thumbs over Dee's hard nipples. Dee arched her back, moaning, and pressed her tits against Sara's hands. I had a sudden thought and I asked Sara to sit back for a moment. She nodded and released Dee's tits. I got up and crouched behind Dee, releasing the clip holding her cuffs together, freeing her wrists. She glanced over her shoulder, a quizzical look on her face. I patted her on the back. "I'm sorry Dee, I made a mistake. You're free to go. I'll give you the papers Monday." Dee got this look on her face like a kid who's just had the cookie jar snatched away. I glanced at Sara with a look of triumph. I was right, Dee wanted slavery because of the sex. "Please, Jack, no! Please...." Her voice trailed off. Sara reached out and stroked her. "Dee, what do you want? How do you feel about being a slave now? I know you were blackmailed into it but you seem to have changed quickly. Explain it to us." Dee took a deep breath. "Yes, it's true that I was blackmailed into it. But now I'm a slave. I'm not responsible for anything that happens to me. Or anything I'm forced to do. I'm free to have sex. A lot of sex. I don't want to give that up!" Sara nodded. "What about your children and your husband?" Dee sighed. "I don't want to lose my children. My husband? I don't care any more. Well, I do care, but I want this!" Sara cupped Dee's tits and fondled them gently. "There will be pain, lots of pain. Whippings. Humiliation. Sex, lots of sex. With men and women. You'll be pierced. Branded. Tortured. Fucked in the ass. The mouth. Pissed on. Things you can't imagine." Dee shook her head. "I still want it. I hate the thought of some of the things you mentioned, but I want the sex. And the humiliation. I just have one request." Sara glanced up at me. "What is that, Dee?" Dee took a deep breath. "When you're done with me. At the end of the year or two years or five.....I want you to hang me. My favorite fantasy has been about hanging. I want to hang nude and die slowly. Very slowly. In agony." Sara leaned forward and kissed Dee on the mouth. "I promise you that you will hang someday. And die very slowly. In great agony. Your nude body will be oiled and gleaming as you are led to your death. You will be fucked repeatedly before you hang. And you will be fucked while you hang. Your death will take hours." The End The Business Trip, F/F, Bnd, Heavy I was just a few days shy of my twenty-third birthday when I left on the first important business trip of my career. I didn't want to go, but I had no choice since it was my first big assignment and I didn't want to refuse it and end my career before it even got started. The main reason I didn't want to go was my wedding which was less than a month away. My birthday was a minor consideration at that point. My name is Samantha Tyler, Sam to my friends, and I was fresh out of college and working at my first real job. I won't go into detail because it's boring and because I don't want to take the time to do so. I'm a slim, athletic woman with brown hair, hazel eyes, and olive/tan skin. I'm 5 foot seven and weigh 122 pounds. I have a pretty nice figure but my long, slim legs are my best feature. The trip went well right up until it was time to fly home. It wasn't a major success, but it wasn't a failure by any stretch of the imagination. The first part of the trip went fine, but then my connecting flight was cancelled because of poor weather conditions on the East Coast and I was stranded in Connecticut. No chance of a flight out until the following day and, as a few phone calls revealed, no chance of a hotel room anyplace near the airport. The airport itself was packed and a seat in any of the bars or restaurants was as precious as gold. I wandered around for a while and finally found myself in a little bar at the far end of the terminal. I didn't see any place to sit other than tables full of guys and I'd resigned myself to going back to sit near the gate when a soft voice from behind me asked, "Would you like to join me?" I turned and saw a redheaded woman in her early thirties smiling at me from behind a small table for two. There was an empty seat and I sank into it with a grateful sigh. The redhead held her hand out and we shook. "My name is Sara Hill." "Hi," I said, "Samantha Tyler." "Hi, Sam. Care for some wine?" She gestured at the bottle sitting on the table. I nodded. "Love some, thanks." She waved and a harried barmaid brought another glass. I asked her to bring another bottle of the same wine. It turned out to be a wonderful White Zinfandel that tasted delicious. Of course, at that point Hemlock would have probably tasted delicious. Sara and I discussed the weather and our current situation for a while and then we talked about our reasons for traveling. I told her about my job and she told me that she was an attorney with one of the Federal Agencies in Washington. By the time we finished the second bottle of wine I was feeling no pain. I put some money on the table and thanked Sara for sharing it with me. "I guess I'll go and try to find someplace to put my head down for a few hours." Sara grinned at me and said, "Don't rush off in such a hurry. Then she held up a plasic keycard and I recognized the name of a national hotel chain. "I have a room upstairs in the hotel. If you like you can use the spare bed. You're in no shape to spend the night alone in the airport!" I hesitated and then accepted with a smile. I waited while she counted out some money, then followed her out of the bar and down the concourse to the hotel. I was pretty drunk and leaned against her in the elevator. When we got to the top floor, she guided me off the elevator and down the hall to her room. She got me inside and I made a beeline for the bathroom. I got there just in time and crouched over the toilet as I threw up. I glanced up and saw Sara standing in the bathroom doorway, an enigmatic smile on her face. "I'm sorry," I whispered, "I'm not used to drinking." She grinned. "I'd kind of guessed that. Are you okay?" I nodded. "I think so." "Good. Now lets get you in the shower." I stood up, shakily, and she started to undress me. I stood there and let her strip my clothes off. Then she helped me into the tub and turned the water on. I screamed as a jet of ice-cold water poured over my body. Sara held my arm in a tight grip and made me stand under the cold water until I was shivering violently. Then she turned it off and handed me a towel. I stepped out of the tub and she took another towel and began rubbing my back briskly. When I was dry, but not much warmer, she guided me out of the bathroom and into one of the double beds. I saw her disappear back into the bathroom and dozed off as the water started running again. I was half-asleep, but still shivering, when she slipped into bed with me. I protested when she slipped her hand between my legs, but she was stronger and I was still groggy from the wine. She threw the covers off and made me get up on my knees. She forced me to spread my knees and clasp my hands behind my neck. When I resisted, she slapped me. I knelt there, sobbing, while she masturbated me to orgasm. It was humiliating and I felt ashamed even as my body betrayed me. The night seemed endless. She kissed me and fondled my breasts and then masturbated me again. And again. I begged her to stop, but she paid no attention. At one point, I put up another brief fight but she pulled me across her lap and spanked me until I was sobbing. Then she put me on my back and began to lick my thighs. I closed my eyes and moaned as her tongue pushed between my labia. She brought me to orgasm at least three times with her tongue. When she finally stopped I fell into a fitful sleep. The next morning when I woke up she was gone. I showered and dressed and flew home in a daze. I called the wedding off a few days later and returned my engagement ring. A week after that I was fired from my job after a shouting match with my boss. Two days after I was fired I got an envelope in the mail. Inside was a plane ticket to Washinton and a slip of paper with an address written on it. I gave the key to my apartment back to my landlady and told her she could dispose of my personal belongings and clothes in any way she saw fit. I closed my bank accounts and sold my car. I arrived in Washington on the eighth of July, a hot muggy day. I was wearing a cropped t-shirt, denim shorts, and sandals. I had one small carry-on bag with a few personal effects and a change of underwear. I took a taxi out to the address I'd been given. It turned out to be a large brick colonial in Georgetown, in one of the wealthier areas. Sara answered the door when I rang the bell. She smiled when she saw me and invited me inside. I shook my head. "First, I want you to promise me something." "What's that?" I took a deep breath. "I want you to promise to kill me when you're done with me." She smiled. "Is that all? Of course. I'll take you to Virgina, out into the woods, and you'll hang naked, slowly strangling, while I sit and sip some wine." She stepped aside and I walked into her house to begin my short life as her lez toy. The End