Stephanie	Back to T	Back to main page

Collected by Djian
updated oct 1 - 2008

Another Wiley Hunter | Neighbor Girl | Sharing Elizabeth | Stephanie | Hire

WARNING: This story contains strong themes of coercion and forced
sexual behavior. It is intended as a work of fiction for ADULTS only,
and the writer does not in any way suggest or condone similar
behavior. Please do not use this story without the authors permission.

1 | 2

Stephanie
By Wiley Hunter

MM/f, reluc, BDsm, college, humil, modif

Part 9

Steve felt satisfaction and relief fill him at Stephanie's words; she was fully his again. She had surprised him with the strength of her reaction, although Jeff had warned him. He had said that as ready and willing as she seemed, she was really a prude, and having him there would freak her out. He had resisted, but was glad that he had taken Jeff's advice to have a ball-gag ready; his flat wasn't sound-proofed. He was surprised at her surrender also, but Jeff had told him about that too, that all she really needed was a little something to trigger her deep-seated fantasies, and she'd come around. Come around she did, he thought, his hand still damp from the juices on her thighs. He'd have to reconsider, just a little, how he planned on handling his new slave, watching Jeff, behind his bound slave, grab her by the hips and position her for use.


Stephanie kept her head lowered as Steve leaned back against the wall, leaving a few feet between them. She knew that Jeff was going to take her now, her heart hammering in her chest, her stomach clenching in both trepidation and need. She felt his hands grip her hips, his feet settling between hers, pushing her legs apart, forcing her up onto her toes again as she wrapped her fingers around the rope binding her to the hook in the ceiling. She felt his cock against her ass, his thumbs digging into her buttocks, bruising the muscles, making the battered flesh ache, as he pulled her ass-cheeks apart, his other fingers looped around her hip bones, pulling her ass back and up.


Her mouth fell open as she felt his cock, slippery and wrapped in something smooth and cool, slid between her thighs and slide against her gaping cunt, sending pleasure buzzing through her. Then he pulled it back and she felt it press up against her ass, and she let out a soft moan as it slid easily into her ass-chute, realizing that he had soaked it in lube. Her body started buzzing as he began rutting against her, fucking her ass with short, brutal strokes, his hands bruising her hips as he jerked her petite body back and forth, her flesh burning and aching as his hips slapped against her beaten flesh, his cock stretching her ass-chute, filling her, sending a dull pain through her body, all reminding her of her punishment, of her failure as a kajira, of her proper place, serving her Master however he wished.


Lust flooded through her with these thoughts and she wanted to beg her Master to touch her, to touch her clit, to let her orgasm. She knew all it would take would be a touch, even with the discomfort Jeff was forcing on her for his own pleasure, just a touch and she would cum as she never had before. She looked up at him, the sight of him obscured by her hair falling across her face. He was leaning against the wall before her, his arms crossed, his eyes drinking her in, and she begged him with her eyes, knowing that she had no right to speak, begging him to touch her, to bring her the release she craved so, so badly.


He just stood there, though, watching his sweet, sexy little kajira getting violently ass-fucked by his friend as her small, lithe body shook in its bonds, her feet arched to keep her weight off of her arms, her head hanging down, her mouth open and gasping, her small breasts jiggling on her chest, her nipples, small, pink, delicious nipples, hard as rocks, small, whimpering sounds coming from her throat with each brutal thrust into her ass. When she lifted her head to look at him, he saw the need in her eyes, and restrained a smile and stepped forward.


She gasped as her Master stepped forward, anticipation making her whole body tremble, electric pleasure suffusing her body from her toes to her head. When his hand flattened over her pelvis, his fingers spread wide, hot against her flesh, she thrust her hips forward, trying to drag it from Jeff's grip, mewling in frustration as she wasn't able to do more than lightly press her throbbing clit against his palm. Again and again she tried, moving with Jeff as he fucked her ass, trying to bring her hips hard against her Master's hand, lost completely to her need to cum, oblivious to everything except the sensations in her body, the lust the seemed to suffuse everything and turn it sensual and sexual and make her mind spin and whirl.


She didn't know how long she was there, trapped, bound, a cock pounding her ass, her body on the edge, her calves trembling with fatigue, her thighs shaking, her stomach clenching and unclenching, trying so hard to cum, knowing that her Master wasn't going to let her, was teasing her with his palm, letting her get close, oh so close, but not letting her press hard enough against him to set her off. Then she felt Jeff stiffen, his thrusts stopping, holding himself deep inside her as he came, grunting out his own pleasure, frustration making her growl as her Master stepped back from her as his friend found release in her ass.


She felt him slip out from her, his absence sending a cool breeze across flesh wet with sweat and her own spend. Her legs trembled as she slid them together so she could stand normally, panting, squeezing her thighs together to keep the pleasure flowing, her head down, a flush rising in her face as she realized how she must look, beaten, used, and still trying to get off. She didn't stop though, the thought that her Master was looking at her, watching her, seeing how needy she was sent a flush of pleasure through her body. She shuddered and pushed her body against his as he stood close to her and reached up to free her wrists from the cuffs binding her to the hook overhead.


------



"Nadu," she heard him command, his voice firm and strong, and she dropped instantly to her knees with a moan of need, her legs spread wide, her back straight, her head tilted slightly up, her hands face up on her thighs. She watched, her tongue running across her lips, as he unzipped his jeans and slid his pants down his legs, stepping out of them, his boxers the only thing between her and her Master's cock. She licked her lips again, panting with lust.


She watched as his cock seemed to spring out from his boxers as he slid them down to his thighs, and then his hands were in her hair, his grip painful, pulling a cry from her even as he stepped forward and pulled her face toward him, muffling her as his cock slid between her soft, wet lips. She sucked air in through her nostrils, the smell of him sending sparks of lust and need through her body, the slightly salty, smooth taste and feel of his cock in her mouth combined with the grip on her hair signaling both his need and her submission, made her tremble in desire.


She started sucking, her tongue dancing over his cock, rubbing against the underside of his glans, and she could feel him respond even as he began slowly moving his hips and her head back and forth, sliding his cock back and forth in her mouth. Her back aching, her ass sore, kneeling with her legs spread wide, her hands caressing his balls, she felt completely dominated, completely a kajira, and she felt her cunt pulse with pleasure as she continued to pleasure her Master. She vaguely heard Jeff leave, but was too busy, her whole world seemed concentrated on her lips, her mouth, her tongue, the taste and feel of him inside her.


A haze of need seemed to surround her, and she thought briefly of the 'slave-heat', and she realized she was feeling it, feeling the wanton, unconstrained desire a kajira felt, a need so powerful it ruled her every thought and feeling in the presence of her Master. She reveled in the feeling of subjugation, of servitude, of giving herself so completely that she had been whipped and ass-fucked against her will, the heat in her belly seeming to burn.



When she felt him stiffen, his thrusting stilling, his hands tightening around her skull, she sucked harder, rolling her eyes up to see him looking down at her, looking down at his slave as his cock pulsed and filled her mouth with his cum. She swallowed quickly, a feeling of satisfaction flooding over her at the pleasure she had given her Master. She kept sucking, softer now, as he kept one hand on the back of her head as his cock softened just a bit in her mouth before he slid his cock from between her lips, a string of her saliva stretching between her lips and the tip of his cock, breaking to splatter against her chest.


She gazed up at him, the need strong in her eyes, and undulated from her Nadu position, begging with her body and her eyes for him to use her, to quench the heat in her belly, to bring her to climax. She shuddered as he reached down and slid a finger along the choker around her neck that he had given her, and then had to turn her head as he quickly walked away from her to sit down on the couch behind her.


"Perform obeisance on your belly," he said, and her mind rolled over the command, still lost in its need, before she realized what he was commanding. She moaned and turned on her knees until she was facing him, and then slid onto her belly, the hardwood floor cold against her skin. Keeping her elbows out, her hands in front of her, she slowly writhed across the floor toward him, the act of pure subjugation making her pant as if she had been running.



Steve watched as Stephanie slithered slowly across the floor toward him, her ass bunching beautifully, her thighs sliding across the hardwood, her hair hiding her face and spread across her shoulders, her body a symphony of sexuality and submission. He could feel himself getting hard again just watching her debase herself, watching her live out her fantasy. He tried to decide if he was going to allow her to orgasm tonight, tried to decide if it would bind her to him more if he gave her the pleasure she so clearly desired or if he punished her for her actions earlier. He smiled to himself as she reached his feet, her tongue darting out as she began teasing his toes with her mouth, worshiping her Master.


She reverently kissed his feet, sliding her tongue out to slip it between his toes, trying to show her Master her regret for her earlier actions by showing what a good slave she could be, all thoughts of herself as a college student, as a free woman with her own will, were gone--she was only a kajira, only a slave, with a slave's heat in her belly, with a slave's need and a slave's desire to please her Master and be pleased by him. She slid her hands around his calves and slowly ran her tongue up the inside of his leg. When she was kneeling before him, her head between his thighs, her mouth lightly sucking on his flesh, she reached up and found the band of his boxers and, as he slightly lifted his ass, slid them down his legs and off, freeing his cock, almost hard again.


She slid her lips over his testicles, her small hands sliding up and down his cock as she sucked one ball and then the other softly into her mouth before dragging her tongue along the underside of his cock, ending by suddenly engulfing it in her mouth, feeling his thighs tense up with a feeling of satisfaction. Slowly she used her inexpert mouth on him, trying to sense what he liked and what he didn't, using her hands to caress his body even as she used her tongue and lips and cheeks on his manhood. She slid her hands across his chest when he removed his shirt, leaving him as naked as her, and she wanted to rise up and mount him, but knew that she had to wait for his command, that she was to remain on her knees, in obeisance, until he directed otherwise.



He let her pleasure him for a long time, his earlier cum giving him greater control as his sexy little slave tried her best to bring him to orgasm. As he felt himself get close, her shifted, pulling her head off of his cock by her hair, and, as she looked up at him, said, "Usage position," feeling her body almost melt in lust and need as she turned and positioned herself on her elbows and knees, her thighs spread wide, her cunt a wet, swollen slash of red between her legs, seeming to pulse as he knelt behind her, his cock slick with both her saliva and his own pre-cum.


------


She felt him grip her hips and moaned in frustration as she felt it press up against her ass, her forehead resting against the floor, her whole body aching with need. As he forced himself into her ass, her skin seemed to burn with sensation. It felt so different from when Jeff had taken her, the feeling of flesh as opposed to latex warmer, rougher, sexier; the angle allowing him deeper, his balls slapping against her gaping cunt, making her jerk in pleasure.


He started fucking her methodically, sliding his cock almost all the way out of her clinging asshole before quickly jamming it back in, his hips slamming into her ass, rocking her whole body forward, his balls swinging forward to slap against the wet, needy slash of her cunt. She was riding a plateau of pleasure so high it was incredibly frustrating, because she knew all she needed to do was to touch her clit, or have him touch her clit, for just a few moments, and she would cum, a wonderful, powerful orgasm. His hands gripped her hips as he used her, her need and her frustration growing as she mewled and grunted out her desire as he stretched her asshole wide open.


When he came, she shuddered, her own pleasure so intense she couldn't think straight--she wanted, she needed to cum so badly. She stayed, panting, on her knees and elbows as he pulled his cock from her ass, leaving her feeling empty, unfulfilled. She felt him stand, and then lean over her, his hand grabbing a handful of her hair.


"Leading position," he said, and she scrambled to her feet, her head down near his left hip, her body weak with the slave heat that seemed to be devouring her. She wondered what he was going to do as he led her into the bathroom, noticing in passing that it was large, clean, and modern, with a separate shower and bath. His hand still in her hair as she maintained the leading position, she heard him turn on the shower, adjust the temperature, and step in, still leading her.


As the warm water streamed over her body, dripping off her hanging breasts, she fell back to her knees as he released her hair, her head turning up to him, her face and eyes turned just enough to avoid the spray of the shower.


"Clean me," he said, handing her a washcloth and soap, leaning his hands against the wall of the shower, his arms straight, his body relaxing as he looked down at her.


She felt something shift inside her as she began slowly bathing her Master, running the cloth first across his feet and slowly moving up his legs, soaping him, caressing him, serving him. The heat she was feeling, the overwhelming need to cum seemed to melt into her, to slide from her skin to her very core, calming her, clearing her mind, letting her think for the first time since it had hit her. The desire was still there, the need to be pleased by her Master, but it was less urgent, less demanding, as if her body accepted that it would come when her Master willed it, and that that was right. Steve was her Master, and she was his, in everything. She leaned into his legs, feeling his warmth as she reached around to wash the back of his thighs.


She slowly worked her way up his body, gently, lovingly cleaning his flesh, sliding the washcloth gently over his testicles, over his cock, her tongue darting over her lips as she suppressed a surge of lust that flared from her belly. She slid around behind him and stood to wash his back, pressing her body against his, her breasts pillowing against his back as she reached around him to clean his stomach and chest. When she was done, she dropped back down to her knees, her thighs wide apart, and waited.


She shivered a little from the cold when he turned off the water and opened the shower door. "Dry me," he said, and she rose, selecting a towel and drying her Master, drying each foot last as he stepped from the shower.


"Very good, Stephanie," he said, as she dropped back down to her knees, the water still glistening on her skin, her wet hair matted against her back. "Tell me, do you want to cum, Stephanie?"


She turned her eyes to find his staring down at her, her nipples hard from both lust and from the water cooling on her breasts, her eyes begging, "Yes Master."


"Do you deserve to cum, Stephanie?"


"No Master. I am ashamed of how I acted earlier with Jeff." The words felt right coming from her lips, and she felt a strange satisfaction in that she had found them, had found just the right words to express her submission.


She gasped as she felt his toes slide against her spread cunt, and she couldn't help jerk her hips slightly forward, the sensation electric against her oversensitive flesh. She saw a smile spread across his face, amused at her need, a blush spreading over her cheeks as she realized what she was doing. Humiliation flooded her as she felt herself humping against his toes as he stood over her, her hands palms up on her thighs, lust flaring as an orgasm like none she had ever felt seemed to race toward her, making her gasp and tremble as she kneeled at his feet.


As suddenly as it came on it was gone, his toes pulled back, leaving her stunned and confused.


"Here, Stephanie," he said, tossing her a towel. "Dry yourself off, get dressed, and go home. I'll call you tomorrow." It was a dismissal, and she felt herself tearing up at her unfulfilled need, remaining on her knees, towel across her lap. She stood, toweling off, trying to calm herself, trying to cool the heat that still burned in her loins. She was still fuzzy with lust as she walked into the living room to retrieve her clothes, her Master calmly watching television, ignoring her. Pain from his disregard flooded through her, but she swallowed it, knowing that it was no more than she deserved, that she must submit to him completely, the thought making the heat in her belly burn stronger.


During her walk home she tried to tamp down the slave-fire that threatened to engulf her mind, tried to start thinking like a good student, trying to think about her classes and her studies, but her thoughts kept being pulled back to her Master and how he had come so close to giving her such an orgasm with just his toes.



------


The night had been terrible and wonderful at the same time, brutally erotic dreams waking her every few hours, her fingers buried in her cunt, slick with her own juices, until she couldn't stand it anymore and decided she would be better up and about instead of thrashing with frustrated lust in her bed. She went immediately to her computer and couldn't help but to start surfing her standard bdsm picture and story sites, her mind wallowing in her need, her fingers stroking her cunt lightly, teasing herself, promising herself she wouldn't cum because her Master wouldn't like it, but needing the stimulation, the pleasure, even as she knew teasing herself would just make it worse.


She checked her email just to cool herself off, and discovered that her Master had left her an email. Her heart seemed to jump, and she couldn't help but reach back down to her clit and slide her fingers across the slippery little bundle of nerves, making her moan in frustrated need. She opened his email and saw a single request, that she e-mail him her class schedule. She quickly obeyed, her lust cooling a bit as she typed in something so non-sexual. She grunted in frustration as she pushed away from her desk and decided to shower, promising that she would keep her hands off of herself.


It was after her second class of the day, around noon, when she was heading to grab a bite to eat when she heard her cell ring, and, looking at the number, realized it was Steve, her Master, a flush spreading over her as she hurried to answer it.


"Hello?"


"Hello what, Stephanie?"


She swallowed, looking around, embarrassment fighting against lust as she cupped her hand around the mouthpiece of the phone, hoping that nobody could overhear.


"Hello Master," she responded, her voice cracking just a little at the last word, her cunt sending a flush of warmth through her body.


"Very good. Now, I see from your e-mail that you have an hour break. Did you cum after you got home last night?"


"No Master."


"Why not?"


Confusion made her pause. "Because my Master didn't tell me I was allowed to...Master." Her heart seemed to skip a beat when she saw a guy walking by glance at her--did he hear?



Her heart pounding in her chest, a blush at wondering whether or not she had been exposed rising in her face, she waited for her Master's response.



"Very good, Stephanie. Now go, right now, to the closest bathroom you can find. Once there, take off your panties and stuff them in your mouth and give yourself a nice, long orgasm, or two, if you wish. When you are done, clean your juices off of your fingers with your mouth and leave your panties off, then call me. Do you understand?"


Stephanie swallowed, lust rising in her at his words, and she nodded even as she said, "Yes Master," waiting until she heard him hang up.


She practically ran to the nearest bathroom, hurrying into a stall and sliding her shorts down her legs and pulling off her panties before putting her shorts back around her ankles. Balling up her panties, she pushed them into her mouth, the cotton drying her mouth, her nostrils flaring as she sucked oxygen in through her nose. Her hand flew to her clit and she leaned back on the toilet, her eyes closed, her thoughts running back to the previous night. Within moments she was close, pleasure racing through her as she pictured herself as the protagonist in a story of submission, as a kajira bowing and crawling and being used like she had been the previous night, augmented by the sounds of people coming and going from the bathroom, so close to seeing what a needy little slave she was.


She coughed into her makeshift gag as her orgasm hit her, the muscles on her stomach and thighs rippling as her fingers and toes arched in pleasure. It was so good, being a slave, feeling this. So good. She sat there for a moment, feeling the aftermath, her fingers still idly sliding across her clit, her thighs damp with her own cum, and she remembered that he had said that she could have two orgasms, and moaned, happy that the panties in her mouth muffled the sound, her fingers starting their dance across her tenderest flesh again.


It took longer, the sensitivity of her clit making every sensation more intense, harder, her imaginings becoming darker. Now she brought to mind a picture of herself hanging by her wrists, remembering the sensation of the belt on her back, on her ass. She remembered how it had felt when Jeff had taken her ass as she was bound, her mind flashing to when Jeff had raped her, raped away her virginity against the wall of a shower, and in her mind Jeff was followed by a line of men, all holding her helpless against the shower wall, all driving their cocks deep into her spasming cunt, using her, taking her, and she came a second time, hard, sharp, almost painful pleasure rocking her.


She sat there, a comfortable relaxation settling over her, her fingers still at her groin. She shook herself once, and brought her fingers to her lips, gently cleaning them with her lips and tongue, sucking her juices from her fingers, the sour taste making her grimace even as she obeyed her Master, internally thanking him for allowing her to cum--she had needed it so badly. She wiped herself clean, pulled up her shorts, feeling strange without panties, and went out to wash her hands and to call her Master.


Outside once again, she found a place that was reasonably private and made her call.


"Master?"


"Yes, Stephanie? I'm surprised it took so long. It's been a half-hour. Did you enjoy yourself?"


"Yes Master. Thank you for letting me cum, Master."


"You are welcome. I have one more thing for you to do before your next class." Stephanie shuddered at his words, wondering. "Go to the campus store and buy two packs of normal sized condoms. Jeff is going to be using you quite a bit, and he doesn't want to have to carry around a pack of condoms on his own. Oh, just so you know, when he uses your ass or cunt, he's to wear a condom. Understand?"


Her heart fluttered on hearing how casually she was to be used, humiliation and lust flooding her. She was a kajira, a slave, a thing for pleasure, and that was how her Master was using her.



"Yes Master. I understand."


"After your classes come by my apartment. I'll be waiting."



She couldn't wait.


------


She was embarrassed to buy the condoms, happy that nobody she knew saw her, and that the girl at the register barely looked up as she rung her up. They were in her bag as she walked over to her Master's apartment, her heart beating like a hammer, feeling her cunt-lips slide wetly against each other with each step she took. The mere thought of Steve, her Master, made her insides turn to jello and a heat rise up from her cunt. Her mind floated in a haze of lust as she walked up the hills to his place until she was standing before the door, nervously straightening herself, preparing herself. She knocked.


The door swung open and he motioned her in, closing the door behind her. She turned, looking at him, wondering why he wasn't speaking, wondering why he was just starting at her with a small frown on his face. Realization hit her, and she blushed even as she dropped her bag on the floor and fell to her knees in Nadu position, her shorts pulling up into her crotch as she spread her legs, her head and eyes up. She saw him nod in satisfaction, a flush of pleasure flooding her as she kneeled submissively before him.


She shuddered as she felt his hands reach around her head, pulling her hair back, bunching it at the back of her head, his hand holding it in a ponytail, looking down at her as she steadied her breathing, remaining in position as he examined her.


"Very pretty," he said to himself. "From now on, Stephanie, you will wear your hair in a ponytail or a french braid."


"Yes, Master," she responded, her stomach fluttering. She loved her hair, loved the way it framed her face, softened it; loved the way it hung around her shoulders.


She saw him nod again, and licked her lips as she watched him unzip his pants, his cock, half hard, springing out as he pushed his pants and boxers to fall around his knees.


"Get me hard, slave," he ordered, stepping forward just enough so that, leaning forward, she could take him into her mouth.


Her hands reached out as she leaned toward him, her lips, soft and wet and red, parted slightly, one hand finding his hip, the other sliding underneath his balls, caressing them, lifting his cock by its base as she gently moved to engulf it in her mouth. The feel of it, soft, smooth, the taste of it, slightly salty, blended as she took him to the root, running her tongue across the underside of his cock, compressing her lips, squeezing its base gently. A rush ran through her as she pictured herself, a slave, on her knees, pleasuring her Master. Excitement and lust rushed through her as she felt him harden, doing her best to please him, to be a good slave for her Master.



It felt like she had just started, his cock now hard, making her gag just a little as she pushed her head down as far as she could, its head pushing against the back of her throat even as her hands caressed both his balls and the base of his cock, her eyes rolling up to look at him gazing down at her, his slave, his kajira--the mere thought making her cunt flutter with pleasure, leaking juices onto the crotch of her shorts--one hand resting on her head, when she felt him slowly draw his cock from between her lips, making her feel strangely empty, useless.


"Usage position."


She fell forward onto her elbows and knees, the hardwood floor hard and cold, turning around for him, her shorts tightening against her ass as she pushed it up and out, an offering for her Master. She closed her eyes to keep from moaning as she felt him drop to his knees behind her, his hands on her hips, reaching around her body, unbuttoning and unzipping her shorts, his hands sending shivers up and down her body as he slid her shorts off of her hips, pushing them down to her thighs, just far enough to reveal the glistening wet gash of her cunt.



When he entered her, his hands hard on her hips, she moaned and thrust back at him, the heat in her belly blossoming into a fire, her body melting in the pleasure of her complete submission. She was his, his to use, to take, to fuck. She moaned again as he began moving inside her, fucking her hard, fast, using her for his pleasure, the thought enough to drive her over the edge, her body shuddering in orgasm, her cunt spasming around his cock as he continued to fuck her.


She jerked when she felt his hand slap against her ass, a loud smacking sound ringing in her ears, a shock of pain on her ass blending with the orgasm engulfing her. Another slap made her gasp through her pleasure, seeming to heighten it before it left her, spent and trembling as his cock continued to plunge into her slick cunt, churning her insides, growing the left-over tingling from her orgasm until she was gasping again in pleasure, her forehead resting against the hardwood, her body seemingly no longer her own.


She wanted it to last forever, to be forever on her hands and knees being used by her Master, pleasure filling her as he used her, orgasm after orgasm rolling over her body as she submitted to him. She felt his hands tense around her hips, his hips grinding against her ass as he grunted, a second orgasm rolling over her as she felt him cum into her, taking pleasure from her body.


She knelt there, on her knees, her head against the hardwood, spent, the feeling of him softening inside her so nice, suddenly feeling empty when he pulled out abruptly.


"Clean me."


She turned, her shorts around her thighs slowing her, and, still bent over, took his softening cock into her mouth, tasting his cum and her juices covering his soft, slick flesh, reveling in the feeling of utter submission, the air cool on her swollen, spent cunt. She ran her tongue along his thighs and balls, turning her head and shoulders to reach him as he kneeled there, looking down at her. When she finished she returned to nadu position, feeling his come start to slide from her cunt, the sensation slightly strange and erotic.



Steve stood and pulled up his pants.


"Pull up your shorts and leave. Come by tomorrow after your classes." With that he turned his back on her and went to the couch.


She breathed in deeply, dismissed, and slid her shorts back on, feeling the crotch dampen with their mixed juices, and stood to leave, looking imploringly over at her Master to see if she needed anything else from her, wishing, hoping. He didn't turn, didn't look at her, so, disappointed, she left, closing the door behind herself.



------


The next morning Stephanie stood in front of her bathroom mirror and stared at herself as her hair slid between her fingers, twining about them as she slowly braided her hair, over, under, over, trying to see herself as her Master would see her. She saw a young woman, Chinese, with big, almond-shaped eyes, fine brows, a pretty face with smooth, light-olive skin, and her hair pulled back from her face, exposing the smooth, delicate flesh of her neck curving gently into her shoulders. She saw for the first time how exposed she was, two large hoop earrings hanging free from her ears, no longer obscured by her hair, her neck exposed, open, strangely sexy, the silver choker, a sign of her slavery, tight against her throat. She felt her heart speed up at this simple act of obedience, this simply exposure dictated by her Master's will, and slid her hands down her sides to straighten her summer dress.


All day she felt it, the air on her neck, the choker seemingly heavier, the way her earrings swayed just a little bit more than usual, how it was all at his whim, the sensations, the thoughts, keeping her at a low boil, her cunt slippery with her juices as she made her way from class to class, taking notes, being a good student even as she was being his slave. When the time came and she was standing before his door, her stomach was shivering in anticipation, her cunt juice soaking her panties. When she knocked, she heard him yell to come in, so she opened the door, stepped inside, and closed the door behind her before falling to her knees, in nadu position, as she knew was required of her.


She waited, her eyes locked on him as he sat on the couch, watching television, ignoring her, her anticipation growing, the thought that he would get to her when he was ready making her body burn with humiliation. She waited, wondering whether to speak, knowing she shouldn't, that she should just wait, listening to the sounds of the television, wondering what he was watching. High-pitched female cries mixed with Japanese, and then grunts and the slap of flesh on flesh and she knew he was watching porn, and she blushed, her excitement growing, her body squirming as she fought to maintain position.


She ran her tongue across her lips as she saw him lift the remote; the sounds of the video stopped and he stood up, walked around the couch, his eyes catching hers as she kneeled before the door, and approached. She shivered as he reached down, his hand brushing against her shoulder, running up her neck to the side of her face, her lips parting, her eyes begging.


"Very good, Stephanie. I like the braid." His fingers ran along the choker. "I especially like the way it highlights your collar."


She unconsciously leaned toward him as he stepped closer to her and lifted her braid.


"Take off your clothes, fold them, and put them beside the key," he nodded toward a side-table next to the door, and she noticed for the first time a key there.


Her mind clouded with lust, she stood before him as he stepped back, his eyes on her making her feel owned, possessed, desirable. She slid the dress over her head, folding it before her and slowly, deliberately, placing it where he had commanded. Her bra followed, the simple act of disrobing as he watched sending shudders through her body. She cast her eyes down, a blush spreading across her face, as she slid her panties down her legs, folding those too, until she was standing nude before him, her eyes cast down, shame and lust swirling through her mind.


"High harness position."


It took a moment to register the command, and she gasped when she did, the words seeming to send her deeper into her role as his slave. She straightened, keeping her feet about a foot apart, and leaned her head back, feeling the braid falling down her back, her eyes locking on the ceiling. She saw him in her peripheral vision as he walked around her, her breath speeding up as his hand slid across her stomach, leaving a trail of burning need.


"From now on, slave," he said, now behind her, his hand slipping across the soft skin of her ass, "whenever you come into my apartment, you will strip and then kneel. If I am home, you will kneel facing away from the door; otherwise you will kneel facing the door." He paused, now in front of her, and she gasped as she felt his hand slide across her breast, a spark of pleasure racing through her body as he brushed against her nipple, now as hard as she could ever remember.


"Yes, Master."


"The key," he continued, pacing around her again, now his hand sliding around her shoulder and across the back of her neck, "is to my home. It is yours. Use it only when I tell you to." Surprise widened her eyes, and then a rush of excitement and a profound feeling of, she didn't know what, but it was pleasure beyond sexual.


"Yes, Master."


"Good." he finished, walking away from her, "Now, make me some tea, Stephanie."



Confusion stopped her for a second, almost made her speak out of turn; she came here to be used, to be fucked and humiliated and treated like a slave, and then the realization hit her that that was what he was doing, using her like a slave. He would use her, she knew, use her for his pleasure, and hers, but now he was showing her her place, which was whatever he wanted, not what she wanted. She moved, heading for the kitchen even as she heard the television start back up, glancing at it as she walked by, seeing an attractive Japanese woman naked, a leather collar around her neck and wrists and ankles, kneeling in a cage while a man was leaning down placing a dog-bowl full of food in front of the cage.


It was strange, making the tea, nude, with the sounds of Japanese porn in the background. It was an everyday task, calming, with no sexual connotation, made sexual, every motion she made seeming to both remove her from her situation as a slave-girl, and to re-enforce it. She waited, watching the teapot as the tea steeped, feeling her nudity, her feet against the floor, the air across her thighs, her breasts hanging free; listing to the sounds of and cries of sex and despair in Japanese.


She padded into the living room, keeping her eyes down, avoiding the temptation to watch the images on the television, and placed his tea and teapot on his coffee table before falling back into nadu position, her eyes on him as he leaned over and picked up the cup, sipping his tea as his eyes remained glued to the t.v..


"Look at the television, Stephanie."


She started, doing a quick little double-take, and then turned toward the screen, shifting her body, keeping her thighs apart. On screen the nude woman, wrists encased in black leather cuffs, a foot-long silver chain connecting them, was kneeling before a man, her lips around his cock. A leather collar and leather ankle cuffs completed the look, and in the background her cage seemed to loom over her, a bowl of dog food next to her. She was struggling, just a little, as she was used, gasping and mewling and gagging as her captor used her mouth for his pleasure.



"Play with yourself."



The turned quickly back to him at his words, blushing as she found his eyes on her. Embarrassment flooded her at the thought, to masturbate in front of someone else, to be kneeling and playing with herself as he watched.... She shuddered in lust as one hand slid between her legs, her legs parting even more, as the other slid up to her chest, sliding across her nipples, her head turning back to the television as her fingers caressed the folds around her clit.


The perverse images on the screen filled her mind, joining the knowledge that his eyes, her Master's eyes, were on her, were watching her as she played with herself, at his command. She let out a low moan as her fingers lightly slid across her clit, the moisture from her cunt making them slip across her skin easily. She was that woman in the movie, a Chinese girl captured by a Japanese man, caged, bound, used, unable to understand anything except his desire to humiliate and use his captive. She was on her knees, gagging and choking and crying as he fucked her face, just freed from her cage, leather decorating her neck and wrists and ankles. She dug harder at her clit, her other hand squeezing one breast, rolling her nipple between her fingers, as she glanced toward her Master, an electric shock of pleasure jolting through her body as she saw his eyes, intense, locked on her.


Her eyes returned to the screen, and she knew he was close to cumming; he pulled out, his fist wrapped around his dick, his hand in her hair as he dragged her face toward the dog bowl. Her face and his dick were over the bowl, and he came, strings of his cum landing in her food, covering it. A moment later he was yelling at her, pushing her head to the bowl, and she knew she must eat it, a look of horror and disgust coming over her pretty features at this new degradation.


She moaned louder and came, her thighs trembling, her fingers convulsively clutching at her breast, her fingers dancing over her clit, as the woman in the video slid her tongue from between her lips and, with a look of revulsion, touched the cum-covered food before her. Suddenly the video stopped, the woman frozen in her degrading act, and he was on her, her Master, his hands gripping her head, his pants off, his cock hard as he slid it across her lips. She opened her mouth and moaned as he slid it into her, controlling her with his hands on her head. She sucked, moving her tongue across his cock as he thrust in and out of her mouth, making her gag as he forced his cock to the back of her throat, using her mouth like a cunt.


Everything was a blur, the pleasure from her own cum, the humiliation and shame and excitement of performing for him swept away by her Master's need, filling her mouth with his cock, forcing it on her, using her without any concern for her needs, using her as nothing more than a slave. The aftereffects of her orgasm seemed to flood back into her, her lust growing with each thrust of his cock to the back of her throat. She felt him shudder and then his cock pulsed in her mouth, his cum splattering against the back of her throat as she swallowed.


He kept his cock in her mouth as he softened, letting her taste the last of his juices as they oozed from his cock-head. Done, he turned, leaving her on her knees, panting, and pulled on his boxers before turning back to his sweet, sexy slave.


"Not bad, slave, but a good slave should be able to take her Master down to the root."


She could still taste his cum in her mouth as his words registered, and she felt her heart speed back up, realizing what he meant, what he wanted, excited to try it, to become better, more experienced, for her Master.



------


"Leading position."


She scrambled to her feet, her heart pounding, bending at the waist and letting her braid fall to the side of her head. She grunted when she felt him grasp it, turn, and start to lead her across the apartment, following closely, still excited, even after all her use, by this simple act of submission. As she was led into the bathroom, she felt Steve position her before the mirror before tugging her upright, making her gasp as she saw herself in the mirror.


Her body seemed to shine with a thin layer of perspiration, her eyes lidded with lust, her lips looking swollen and red and wet, her nipples taut and hard against the small mounds of her breasts. Beads of her own juice glistened off her pubic hair, and, as she glanced over at her Master in the mirror, she saw how small, how delicate she looked next to him. Her gaze was torn from herself as Steve stepped in front of her, picking up something from the bathroom counter.


It was lipstick, she saw, red lipstick that he had grabbed and was opening in front of her, and she wondered what he was going to do, licking her lips, thinking maybe he was going to put it on her.


"Hands behind your head, slave."


As she complied, she shivered as he ran his fingers from the soft spot between her collarbones down to just above her pubis, his eyes seeming to judge her body as a canvas. She sucked in her breath as he pressed the lipstick between and just above her breasts.


"S," he spoke each letter as he wrote them, the first starting just above her breasts and ending just below them.


"L"


"A"


"V," where the bottom of the V touched together just below her belly-button.


"E," the bottom of the letter sliding across her pubic hair.


She gasped, a roaring seeming to fill her head as he hooked two fingers up inside her cunt, his thumb pressing against her clit, sliding back and forth just a little, as he stepped aside to let her see herself marked as a slave, his slave, the letters a scarlet slash across her torso, seeming to glow in her vision as a submissive excitement tore through her, making her legs tremble and her stomach quiver. She stood like that, quivering, her excitement building and building, her eyes locked on the word across her body, on how it marred her skin, how it degraded, dehumanized her, the addition of his fingers in her cunt driving her crazy with need and lust, watching how her body started to slowly rock as if of its own accord against his hand.


"What are you, Stephanie?"


"A slave."


"What are you?"


"Your slave."


"What is the purpose of a slave?"


"To serve her Master."


"What is your purpose, slave?"


"To serve you," she gasped out, a small, rolling orgasm shaking her body as she watched herself and answered him, pleasure seeming to consume her body.


"Would you do anything I asked?"


"Yes."



"Really?"


Confusion rippled over her even as another small orgasm rolled through her, making her moan. What did he want?


"Yes Master."


"So if I told you to get a nose ring through your septum, you would go out and get one?"


Her stomach tightened up, and before she could answer, he continued, "And if I told you to get a tattoo of the word 'slave' across your right cheek," he brushed her cheek with the back of his hand, "you would?"


Her mind swirled, knowing the right answer, and knowing the true answer, seeming to paralyze her lips, making her unable to speak.



"Of course you wouldn't, Stephanie. I understand. This need of yours, this need to be sexually degraded and used and humiliated, this fantasy you have of complete submission, is secondary to maintaining your respectability. You still need to hide your true self from your friends and family, don't you, Stephanie?"



She found it hard to follow his words, his fingers now working her cunt, the word slave emblazoned in scarlet lipstick across her torso, but she recognized the question at the end.


"Yes," she gasped.


"Just because I understand doesn't mean I won't punish you for not being a true slave."


At the word 'punish' a third small orgasm bloomed from her groin, sending pleasure though her body and making her legs tremble with weakness.



"Yes Master. I'm sorry. Please punish me for not being a true slave."


He smiled at her words, and smiled again as she gasped when he removed his fingers from her cunt, her body shivering as if cold even though sweat slicked her body and her skin was flushed with exertion. He wiped his hand across her thighs, transferring the juices that had soaked it back onto her skin. He opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out two medium sized binder clips that he had placed there earlier, and one small one.


When he had removed his fingers from her, she had closed her eyes, trying to regain some control of herself, blocking out the picture she made in the mirror, of a marked slave in full slave-heat. When she opened them again she saw that he had pulled out three binder clips, and shuddered to think of what he was going to do with them. She trembled as he stood before her, one hand sliding across her breast, squeezing it, making the nipple, already hard, stand out, the other hand opening the binder clip and closing it over her sensitive flesh, crushing the nipple in its embrace.


She sucked in her breath as the pain hit her, sharp and insistent, slowly dulling into a steady ache. He repeated his actions with the second clip, and she breathed out through her mouth, the pain colliding with the pleasure still radiating from her cunt, with the excitement she felt at being punished like this. She closed her eyes, shaking, as he kneeled before her, his fingers spreading her swollen cunt-flesh, knowing where he was going to place the last clip, knowing how much it was going to hurt, wanting to pull away, the lust driving her holding her in place.


She moaned in pain, her knees bending, her stomach and breasts shaking, her head falling just a little bit back as the last clip closed over her clit, binding it, binding her, the pain throbbing, aching, pulsing through her body.


He walked behind her as she stood there, her mind consumed with the sensations throbbing through her body, lust and pain and need and excitement filling her. His hands were hot on her hips as he grabbed her.


"Hands on the counter, elbows straight. Look at yourself in the mirror," he commanded, and she obeyed.


He pulled her hips back, his feet slipping between hers, pushing her legs apart, bending her over, and then she felt his cock pressing against her swollen, needy cunt, and her lips parted, her eyes locked on her own face as if she were watching another, her Master a shadow behind her. She grunted as he entered her, slowly, as if he wanted her to feel every inch of him, her nipples throbbing, blood pulsing through them, her clit aching even as her flesh stretched around it, the pain seeming to stretch with her flesh.


He fucked her slowly, steadily, the sensations in her body building, intensifying, the clamps seeming to hold back her lust, her need, her pleasure, letting it build up behind a wall of aching, throbbing, pain, leaving her craving release, craving more, harder, faster. She lost track of time, feeling and staring at herself, at the markings of 'SLAVE' across her chest, at the binder clips crushing her nipples, at the binder clip's arms sticking out from between her legs, at the expression of need and lust on her face.


Suddenly his hands were off her hips and at her breast and the clips were gone, and then the clip at her clit was gone. For a second there was nothing, and then the pain hit, blending with the built-up desire that he had filled her body with, and she moaned in both pain and pleasure as her nipples and clit seemed to light up in pain and she shuddered into orgasm even as she felt his hands back on her hips and his cock pulse inside her, her mind going blank as the intensity of it darkened her vision. It seemed to last forever, the muscles in her stomach, thighs and cunt pulsing in time with the horribly fast beat of her heart, the pain of blood flowing back into her sensitive flesh slowly bleeding away until she leaned down onto her elbows, her head against the counter, her breathing coming in gasps even as his cock remained in her cunt.


He pulled out, and she heard him tell her to clean him. She turned, unsteadily, and fell to her knees before him, taking his cock, coated with her juices, into her mouth, almost numb from the power of her orgasm, her body falling into a quiet, pleasant lethargy, drained of lust and need. It felt so wonderful.


------







------




Future ideas:



1. Steve has two coins made, a gold one and a silver one, each stamped with a Kef on both sides. Stephanie is not allowed to hold either coin in her hands, only in her mouth or her purse. She is required to give a blowjob to anyone who offers her the silver coin, and is required to offer any of her three holes to anyone who offers her the gold one.

2. Steve takes her to a plastic surgeon to have her clitoral hood removed

3. Steve forces her to wear a pony-tail or french braid at all times

4. Steve gives a silver coin to a lesbian friend of his

5. Steve takes Stephanie to a SF party, masked and collared, where she is forced to dance and then 'auctioned' off, the party members bidding sexual favors to Steve in return for using her ass or cunt.

6. Steve forces her to wear a crotch rope underneath her clothes; he also forces her to wear a rope bra instead of an actual bra

7. Steve has her belly button pierced

8. Steve has her get a nose stud

9. Steve has her nipples pierced

10. Steve exposes her to her best friend, causing a drastic change in their relationship

11. Steve gives her a slave name, Erika.

12. Steve buys a cage and has her stay in it when she's over at his place and not being used or useful

13. Steve makes her wear a slave garment whenever she comes over to his place

14. Steve makes her wear ben-wa balls whenever she's in class

15. Steve forces her to get a tattoo of a Kef on her right thigh, near her hip

Part 10

He pulled out of her mouth, making her feel strangely empty, and she turned her eyes up to him, her eyes following him, watching as he turned and cleaned himself, the quite afterglow from her orgasm gently fading as he looked down at her there, kneeling before him on the cold bathroom floor, his spend slowly leaking from her, drying on her inner thighs, her lips bright and swollen and wet from cleaning him. He smiled and touched her head, and she mewed softly, not knowing what was happening to her.




She couldn't take her eyes off of him as he pulled his clothes back on, her body relaxed, exhausted, her mind seemingly empty of anything except what was right before it.




"Go get dressed, slave," he said, looking down at her as she dropped her eyes from his gaze, a blush spreading over her as she realized how much she had exposed herself, how she had humiliated herself. "I know you have a full day of classes tomorrow, so come by at noon the day after. I won't be here, but Jeff will. He says he wants to fuck your ass again; Amy doesn't let him in her ass, and he really likes yours."




The words didn't register fully as she stood and walked to the front to retrieve her clothes. No Steve tomorrow, a strange disappointment flooding her before she pushed it away. She liked him, liked the games they played, but it was too much, too fast. God, had she really played with herself in front of him? Had she really told him that she was his slave, that he should punish her? Her face burned in humiliation, even as she remembered how her body had reacted, how her skin had seemed to burn and her body shake with need. How, how was it possible? Was that really her? And then the import of his words sunk in. Jeff. He was 'giving' her to Jeff as if he owned her.




"No." Apprehension fluttered in her stomach as the word came out of her mouth. God, it had been so good with Jeff, but it had made her so ashamed, so ashamed that she was having sex with her best friend's boyfriend, so ashamed that she hadn't been able to stop herself. She didn't want to start up again, she didn't. She stuttered, and then continued. "No. I won't have sex with Jeff. He's my best friend's boyfriend. Not anymore. I don't want to be like that." Why was she so nervous about this? "We can do anything, you can do anything, but not Jeff. Please."




He turned, still seated, and stared at her, and she quivered at his silence. She liked him, liked Steve, sex with Steve, in a way she hadn't with Jeff, and the sex, god the sex, was unbelievable, even though it scared her, even though the way she reacted, the way she turned herself over to him so completely, the way each humiliation, each small degradation made her pant with lust frightened her beyond belief. She wanted to be with him, but not like this.




"Give me the choker, and the anklet."




It was as if he had punched her, her world seeming to fall away.




"Please Steve, please...."




"Shut up. Give me the choker and the anklet, and leave. Oh, and leave my key too."




"Please Steve, it's wrong. It's wrong for me to have sex with Jeff, please...." She could feel tears in her eyes, and ran her hand across her face, her body, so hot just a few moments ago, was now so cold.




"A slave doesn't get to decide what's right or wrong. A slave trusts her Master. I don't want a slave, hell, I don't want a girlfriend, who doesn't trust me. Go."




She didn't trust him? She did, she did, she wanted to say, but it was wrong, what he had asked her to do was wrong, would hurt Amy--she couldn't do it. All those weeks when she had been being used by Jeff had been wrong, no matter how good it had felt. She had to stop it, had to keep it from happening again. She felt a tear slide down her face as she took off the anklet and the choker and placed them on the side table by the door and leave.




Walking home, she was in a daze, the scene running over and over through her mind. It was over? It had just started, and now it was over? Why was she crying? Why did it hurt so much? All he had done was humiliate her and use her for sex. Jeff had raped her, they had beaten her. God, what was wrong with her? She shook her head, trying to clear it, and recalled the markings on her body, blushing. Her fantasies, she thought, they had played on her fantasies, taking advantage. That was it. It had felt so good, though, so good to lose control, to give in. She shuddered and tried to shut off her thoughts.




She was glad that Amy wasn't back yet, glad that she was all alone in her apartment. She undressed; she needed a shower, needed to clean herself of sex and the markings down her torso. "SLAVE". She looked at it in the mirror, running her hand down the smeared, faded lipstick. It was a fantasy, only a fantasy, she thought as she pulled on fresh panties and a night shirt. She would take a shower later. Now she just wanted to sit.




The front door opening shook her from her thoughts and she jerked up in surprise as her door was flung open.




"Jeff, what the? Amy isn't..."




"Steve called me. Said you and he split." A grin split his face. "I figure you'll need someone to console you."




Surprise overwhelmed her, freezing her in place, as Jeff walked up to her, his hands gripping her head as she tried to pull back, leaned over, and kissed her, his lips hot on hers. She pushed back, angry now, grunting into his mouth even as he pushed her back onto the bed, dragging her small body until he was on top of her, pinning her even as she struggled, his hands now around her wrists, holding them back over her head.




"Get off! Get off!" she yelled, her lithe body squirming under his.




"Go ahead and scream, Stephanie. I'm sure," he said, leveraging himself up onto his knees, leaning over her, one hand pinning her slender wrists above her head as the other slid her nightshirt up her body, "that when the police come, and Amy comes, and they see these letters on your body, and the whole story comes out, everything will work out for you just peachy." He leaned down, his mouth finding her neck, sucking her flesh between his lips.




Oh god, oh god, Amy, her parents, her friends, they would all know. Fear and humiliation flooded her. She couldn't do anything, couldn't stop him.




"This is rape. Jeff. Rape. You're raping me."




He pulled his lips from her neck and bared his teeth at her, his face mocking, his free hand slipping between her panties and her flesh, his fingers hooking up into her cunt, thrusting hard into her slick canal. Her hips arched in surprise as a sharp pleasure shot through her. When did she get wet again? Why did his fingers feel so good? Humiliation piled upon humiliation as he laughed in her face.




"You can't rape the willing."




------




"Please Jeff, please...", she whined, his fingers rubbing up against her cunt walls making her head spin, "I don't want this, please."




"Jesus, Steph, you have no idea how hot you are," he leaned down on her, covering her body with his, his fingers pulling out of her, sliding against her swollen clit. "Like this, resisting, begging, when we both know you really, really want it, that you're just a teasing little slut."




She arched her back as his fingers smashed her clit, shocks of pleasure/pain making her body shiver, her mind spinning. Why did it feel so good, so good? Why was she trembling so much? She didn't want this, but it felt, it felt.... She couldn't stop him, couldn't do anything, she was completely at his mercy, forced, against her will. It was rape, rape, her mind seeming to melt along with her body.




"Okay, Steph," he spoke into her ear, his hot breath making her body flush, her nipples hardening underneath her sleeper, "I'll tell you what. I won't fuck you unless you beg me to, okay?"




The words seemed to come from far away, and she nodded, hope filling her, and somewhere deep down some other feeling that she didn't understand. Then his assault really began, his body heavy on hers, his legs between hers, his hand still holding her wrists above her head and his lips found her lips, and her neck, and her collar bones, leaving a burning trail of sensation across her flesh. His free hand ran across her body, up her shirt, across her breasts, each brush across her nipples dragging a moan from her overly sensitized body, his hips pressing her down on the bed, the bulge in his pants joined with her pubic bone, smashing the tender flesh protected only by the thin layer of her panties, the pleasure almost making her gag. Over it all, under it all, was her helplessness, his strength, his domination of her body, his weight holding her pinned to the bed, forcing her, making her take it, making her feel this pleasure.




The assault seemed to go on forever, until she was grinding her groin back up against his, her lips parting when his mouth found hers.




"Beg me to fuck you, Steph, beg me," he said, pulling back, only his hands and his hips holding her down now, looking down at her flushed, panting face, her lips parted in need.




Oh god, her body burned with need, her eyes captured by his face as he looked down at her; he was so big, so strong. All she had to do was to say the words, say them and he would take her, right there, would give her the relief her body craved. She couldn't, couldn't. It was too humiliating, too wrong. He was her best friend's boyfriend, and she had told Steve 'No'--Steve floated through her mind, the memory of the shock of his rejection cutting through her lust--so that she wouldn't be that person anymore, wouldn't be that person who fucks her best friend's boyfriend.




"No."




She cried out when he jerked her into a sitting position, dragging her arms behind her, his belt looping around and around her wrists as his body pressed against hers, and then she was back down again, her arms forcing her breasts forward, her hips tilted above her bound hands, his hands and lips and tongue all over her.




She closed her eyes, trying to think about other things, other things than how hot his mouth was on her nipples, how his fingers seem to draw burning sensations across her stomach and arms, how her wrists were bound beneath her, how helpless she was, how all Jeff saw her as was flesh, flesh for his pleasure, flesh upon which to gratify his own lust; about how firm his fingers were, twisting about in her cunt, sending sparks of pleasure rushing through her body, about how close to cumming she was as his fingers found her clit.




Again and again he teased her to the peak before letting her draw herself back, fighting her own pleasure, each time the peak seeming to get higher and higher, and every time he would stop and say, "Beg me, Steph, beg me," and every time she would whisper "No," at which he would laugh and continue tormenting her body.




A ringing phone interrupted him and he sat up, off of her body, only his fingers in her pussy still connecting him to her, still making her writhe and pant on the bed.




"Hey, Amy. What's up? Okay. Yah. Yah. Five minutes? I was just coming over to see you, so I'm close. I'll have Steph let me in and I'll wait for you. Yah. See you soon. Love yah.




"Too bad, Steph. It looks like we'll have to continue this tomorrow. You'd better get cleaned up before she gets here; you wouldn't want her to think we were fooling around," he smiled, and she hated him right then, but she hated herself more for being so disappointed that Amy was coming back.




------




Her clothes left a trail behind her as she staggered to the shower, her body trembling in need, denied lust fogging her mind. Cold water sluiced over her body, the shock helping to clear her mind, cool her body, her trembling being replaced by shivering as the cold seemed to seem into her bones, displacing the heat that had made her want, so much, to beg for Jeff to take her, to rape her. Through the shower she heard Amy come back and heard Jeff answer her, their voices mumbles through her water beating against her skin as she adjusted the heat of the water and began to soap herself clean.




Stephanie closed her eyes, remembering her first time, the time when Jeff had raped her in the shower of Bowles hall. Raped. The word seemed to make her body flare with lust. He had raped her and then used her to satiate himself, and she had loved it. Tears slid down her cheeks as she remembered how much it excited her, how much she had anticipated his arrival, her next use. She felt the humiliation of it, the degradation of it, the pure wrongness of wanting her friend's boyfriend so much. That was part of it, though, she knew, part of her fantasy, to be completely and utterly sexually possessed, to have her will mean nothing in the face of a man's lust, to have his desire for her be so powerful he desired to own her completely.




When she had been with Jeff, it was like Stephanie had disappeared and another girl, a slave-girl, a kajira, had taken her place, and she shuddered in the shower at the thought, her fingers sliding down to tease her clit, excusing herself for her weakness, needing to cum, needing to clear her mind of the lust which wouldn't let it be free from imagines of herself held down and raped, bound and beaten, used over and over again by Jeff, by Steve, by every other one of her male friends, each spitting on her in disgust at her depravity even as they vented their lusts on her body. As pleasure grew, her fingers becoming more insistent, her mind flashed fantastic images and sensations to her, images and sensations that were more exciting for being true: of the feel of the belt striking her skin in Steve's apartment, her arms held above her; of that moment of surrender when she apologized to Steve for refusing him and asked for punishment; of the image of herself in the mirror, just hours ago, marked as a slave, her body writhing and arching in pleasure; of the feel of the platinum choker around her neck, another around her ankle, marking her as owned. She grunted as the orgasm took her, shaking a little in relief as her need peaked and then receded.




As she was stepping out of the shower, she shuddered as she realized the memory of the sensations that had sent her over the edge had been the simplest ones, that of the feel of the collar around her neck, the knowledge of being owned, completely owned, by another. What was she going to do?




------




"Jeff. You know you can stop calling me every hour."




"Sure. Sure Steve. Just tell me again why I don't just take that little slut and fuck the shit out of her like I was doing before."




"Really, Jeff? Do I really need to do that?"




"Steve, it's been three days. My balls are fucking turning blue. Amy's getting pissed because all I want from her is to blow me, and I've been reduced to screwing Rosie. So yes, I do need that."




"Okay, okay. If you go back to just fucking Stephanie like you were before, either she'll break down and tell Amy or Amy'll figure it out, and, either way, you'll be screwed. Think about it. Your parents and her parents are friends. I wonder how many hours you'd have to listen to your mother and her disappointment in you. Amy and Stephanie and you travel in the same circle. Amy and Stephanie would end their friendship, people would take sides. You'd be the bad guy, and Stephanie wouldn't be much better. It'd be a huge shitstorm for weeks.




"When she comes back to me, you'll be able to use her whenever you want. I mean, she'll be going out with me. You'll be coming over to visit me, and Stephanie will just happen to be there. There is no way that Amy'll believe that you'd fuck her when I'm around, or that I'd let you. It'll be perfect for you."




"Sure, sure. But why hasn't she broken yet? I've been playing with her for hours a fucking day, man. I mean, you said it wouldn't be long before she'd be crawling back to you. Jesus, you try to keep from raping the little bitch when she's writhing on the end of your fingers, moaning and tossing her head around."




"So she hasn't begged you to fuck her yet?"




"No. If she had you'd think I'd be bitching about blue balls?"




"She fighting you at all?"




"No, man. She's pretty submissive; always has been, except for that first time. She won't give in, though."




"She'll give in. Trust me. I told you within a week, right?"




"Yah."




"Then give it a few more days. Keep working on her. Let her know what she's been missing. Heh."




"Okay, okay. I'll play it your way. I just hope it pays off soon. I don't know how much longer I can hold out."




"You break, she wins. Remember that."




"Sure. Got you. Talk to you later, man."




"Bye."




------




Stephanie leaned her head against the side of the shower, the water beating against her back, her knees aching, uncomfortable in her kneeling position, panting as her fourth orgasm of the day left her. It had only been three days, three torturous days where Jeff seemed to spend all his free time teasing her, playing with her, telling her what a needy little slut she was and that all she had to do was to beg him to fuck her and he'd take care of her needs. She hadn't broken, but how she wanted to, how her body seemed to be constantly on fire, only an almost pathological level of masturbation keeping her from giving in, the release of an orgasm quieting her need, but not for long enough, not for long enough.




It wasn't working. She knew it. She had even started thinking about going to a club in SF and picking up some random guy to fuck, letting him crawl on top of her, his body hot and strong and hard, and slide himself inside her, taking her, possessing her, owning her. She felt her body start to warm up again and she moaned in despair--she had to stop it. Even her friends had started to notice that she was distracted. Amy even teased her, saying she was obsessed about a man, and she had blushed, embarrassed by her friend's innocence and tormented by her own guilt. Soon, she knew, soon she would give in, she would beg Jeff to take her, to fuck her, to rape her, anything, anything to relieve the need that rode with her almost every moment of the day, to dispel the dreams that had come, dreams of being bound and taken, of being forced to dance before the lusting gaze of hundreds of men, of crawling and writhing toward them in the flickering light of a fire, of being raped over and over, of offering herself to faceless bodies with cocks and fingers that would torment her until she woke up with her fingers buried in her cunt and an overwhelming need to cum.




She knew, too, that it wouldn't be enough. As exciting, as fulfilling as it had been with Jeff, as it would be with Jeff, it wouldn't be enough. He wanted her, would fuck her once or twice a day, but that's all she was to him, a fuck-hole, a place to put his dick to relieve an urge. She shuddered, her fingers working their way back down her her clit as pictures of him using her filled her mind. She couldn't deny it, wouldn't deny it anymore, that that was only part of what she wanted, part of what filled her fantasies. Her hand gently rose to her neck and she remembered the chain that had been there, had signaled her slavery. A kajira was more than just a fuck-hole, more than just masturatobory toy; a kajira was a valued possession, a treasured animal, a pet that was loved for its obedience, its beauty, its pliancy. She wanted that, fantasized about that, and, ever since she had met Steve, ever since Steve had taken her, taken her by force, she needed that.




Captured, broken, raped, forced to learn what it meant to be a slave, trained to use her body to please, images of her fantasy rose up in her mind as she lost herself in the fantasy, one hand stroking her throat, the other playing over her swollen, needy clit as her fifth orgasm of the day welled up inside her, her heart racing, pushing from her mind the sure knowledge of what she knew she had to do.




------




As Steve stepped out of his shower and made his way to the kitchen, a towel still around his waist, he paused, just for a moment, as he saw Stephanie kneeling, naked, head down, legs spread, in Nadu, just inside his door. His heart tripped, and he smiled inside as he continued to the kitchen, ignoring her, and pulled out a beer. Luckily, he had been prepared for this moment. A beer in hand, he walked over to her, looking down at her as she kept her gaze at his feet, taking in her nudity, her long, smooth, dark hair pulled back into a pony-tail, exposing the creamy flesh of her neck; her small, rounded breasts, moving slowly with her breathing, her nipples hard and demanding; her narrow waist, her stomach flat and sexy; her thighs, strong and lean and sexy, spread wide, exposing the glistening pink gash of her cunt, her body open to him, for him.




Without saying a word he reached down and grabbed her hair and pulled her into leading position, a little surprised at how easily that term came to mind, dragging her after him into his bedroom. He led her to the foot of his bed and pushed her back down to her knees, smiling as she resumed her Nadu position, the foot-board of the bed to her back. Leaving her there, he pulled a tripod that was leaning against the wall and set it up, placing his video camera on top of it and putting Stephanie, nude, kneeling Stephanie, in the frame.




"Okay, Steph," he said, walking over to his desk chair and moving it behind the camera, sitting, still in his towel, "I assume you want me to take you back. Well, you're a pretty bright girl; and you're damned fine; and I do love fucking you; and I especially love how much you get off on acting like a slave. It really turns me on. The problem, to me, is simple. You don't trust me. You don't trust me to give you what you want within your limits. I tell you to fuck Jeff, and you tell me no. You don't tell me your feelings, you don't tell me why you might not want to fuck him, you just say no. Kajira don't get to say no, Steph. You know that. It doesn't mean that you cannot respectfully question my command. With Jeff, I know you don't want to fuck him, and I know why. Hell, he's your best friend's boyfriend. He thinks first with his cock. You might cum your brains out when he fucks you, but you can't enjoy betraying your friend like that.




"Yah, I know all that. I also know that if you become my slave again, I will let him fuck you. I owe him for introducing us. I also know that if I don't, he'll go around telling everyone what a kinky slut you are. I'm guessing you really don't want that, Steph, that you really don't want him talking about you like that, telling everyone what he's seen us do. Besides, you're a slave, you don't have a choice. You aren't betraying your best friend, I am, and he is. You are simply doing what you're told.




"Now that that is out of the way, I'm going to tell you what you have to do if you want to become mine again. It has to do with this video camera. When I turn this video camera on, you are going to look right at it and tell it your dirty little secret, about how you came to want to be an owned fucktoy. The whole time you will be playing with your slutty little cunt, and the grand finale, after you finish your tale, is that you'll have a nice big cum for the camera.




"You understand, Steph? You are going to give me the power to completely and utterly humiliate you to everyone you know, and to millions of strangers. You are going to have to trust me that I will not betray that trust. Your choice, Steph, your choice."




She was terrified as she listened to him, the hope of his hands in her hair, of his leading her to his bedroom, replaced by the sinking feeling of rejection, the feeling that even debasing herself like this would not be enough, that she would be left to her own devices, her own needs overcoming her such that she would give in to Jeff, let Jeff use her, as unsatisfactory as that would be. She trembled as she listened, one edge, wanting to speak, knowing she shouldn't, until he spoke those final words.




Silence seemed to roar in her head; the choice, the choice.... Her body seemed to burn with those final words, to be humiliated like that, to be exposed to everyone, a video of her, of her telling everyone of her true nature even as she teased her aching clit. Oh god, she burned--she wanted it so badly, so badly, even as she wanted to stand up and run back, put on her clothes, and leave. He was just sitting there, watching her, almost nude, covered only by a towel: she wanted to look up, wanted to see him, wanted to see his cock, but she was afraid to raise her eyes.




"So, Stephanie, do I turn the camera on or do you leave?"




She raised her eyes, looking not at Steve, but right at the camera, her body trembling. "Please, Sir, please turn on the camera."




Smiling, Steve turned on the camera and sat back down, ready to enjoy the show.




------




"My name is Stephanie -----. I am a junior attending U.C. Berkeley; I am 20 years old." She paused, uncertain on how she should continue, her face red as she remembered that Steve had commanded her to masturbate. She swallowed, her face red. "I am kneeling here...here," she stuttered, one of her hands sliding down her thigh to brush against her cunt, "because I'm a slut. Ah, god." Her cunt felt swollen, her clitty already hard. "I'm a slut who wants everyone to see what a dirty little girl she is." Her consciousness seemed divorced from the words, her mind floating distantly. "I'm a slut who wants you to watch as I play with my pussy. I'm a slut who wants you to watch her cum. Ahhhh," her body quivered as she concentrated on her clit, pleasure rolling through her body, the humiliation of what she was doing feeding it, feeding her perversity.





"It started...I guess it all started when I was 11. I mean, this desire, this, oh god, consuming desire, to be seen as a, as a...a sexual thing. It was when I was 11, that was when I first read John Norman's Gor books. It was like I was reading, for the first time, about how a woman should be, about how I should be. Sexy, desirable, wanted, lusted after.... Owned. Free to be all of that because she was owned. Because she wasn't free, she could be herself, without censure, without constraints. Her true self. It was like a revelation. I was 11, and I wanted to be those women. I still want to be them, to be a kajira, a slave-girl--wanted, owned, valued, possessed."





She paused, the camera catching her eyes, her unfocused eyes, as if they were looking inward, even as she moved her other hand to her breast, slipping across her nipples, teasing them, her other hand glistening with the juice slicking her swollen cunt, a red gash between her legs.





"It was all sexual back then, but not like now. I really didn't know about sex then, didn't know anything. I just knew that I needed to be sexy, and submissive, without really knowing what that meant. It excited me, but, I guess, not really in a sexual way. It is weird, really. It didn't really become sexual until I was 12, when I first got my braces put on. I mean, there I was, lying on a dentist's chair, unbound but helpless. I mean, I was free, but I wasn't supposed to move, was just supposed to lie there, my mouth open, while the dentist did these things to me, these things.... They didn't hurt, not really, but it was close, like a pressure around my teeth as he tightened the braces, a...a...a sensation.... I don't know, but, anyway, it made me feel something down there, for the first time.





"When I got home, after, you know, I couldn't stop thinking about it, couldn't stop thinking about just laying there while a man played in my mouth, bound my mouth, and I started to think about Gor again, and kajiras, and how they would obey, even if it meant being whipped, and I found myself clenching my thighs together and unclenching them and it felt so gooooood." She paused, her focus coming back, back to the camera, her hips rocking slightly back and forth, back and forth, her nipples being rolled gently between her fingers, her cunt being pierced by her other hand, her thighs quivering, her chest rising and falling more and more quickly.





"I came. I still remember. Oh god it was so good, my first cum. It was so intense it hurt, and I wanted to stop, but I couldn't, didn't, and then it hit me and it was wonderful. I was hooked. I was a slut. Every day I would think about sex, and think about being owned, and almost every day I would masturbate and cum. I kept it secret, though. I was a kajira in my fantasies, but a good girl for everyone else to see. You are seeing my true self," she paused, looking at the camera, her fingers lazily teasing her cunt and nipples, "a slut who wants to be a slave, kneeling, pleasuring herself."





She was shaking now, her voice the only steady part of her, her words coming as if from somewhere deep inside her, as if she were telling a secret she had long prepared, long rehearsed, to tell, and only her body resisted, quivering and shaking and sweating even as the pleasure of her masturbation filled her, the humiliation of saying these things, saying them at all, and in front of a camera, filled her with dread and shame and yet thrilled something deep inside of her, thrilled that masochistic exhibitionist who trembled in excitement at being so exposed, thrilled that little girl laying on the dentist's chair, a man hovering over her, dominating her, controlling her.





"This slut," she gasped, knowing she needed to cum, wanting to cum, wanting to cum while the camera caught her, caught her expression, her need, her craving for the pleasure that was building within her, "this slut wants to cum. Oh god. Oh god.... Ahhhh!" she cried out, her whole body trembling, her body hunching over as her orgasm overwhelmed her, leaving tears in her eyes as she twisted her nipples and pinched her clit, trying to tear out every last bit of sensation from her cum. When it was finally over, she returned to nadu position, looking down, her mind spinning, regretting, glad, happy, fearful--emotions blazing through her as she waited for Steve to act.





------




Steve stood and moved over to the camera, casually turning it off, his cock seeming to pulse with pleasure as he had watched Stephanie expose herself so fully, all for him. "Very good, slave," he said, turning his eyes to her.




That word, "slave," seemed to flash through her mind like a strobe, clearing it of everything, an almost physical sense of relief flooding her.




"From now until I say otherwise," he continued, "you will be under the discipline of the she-quadruped. You may moan; you may yip; you may scream; that's it. Now, crawl to the closet there and retrieve the collar I have in there and bring it to me."




She still couldn't look at him; she was too embarrassed by what she had just done, too embarrassed by her relief in being accepted by him again, too excited at his command for her to suffer the discipline of the she-quadruped to look at him. She fell down onto her hands and knees and started to crawl over to the closet, acutely conscious of him as he watched her, as he backed up and sat back down, his eyes on her body, her nude body, crawling for him, debasing herself for him. Every motion of her body--so unnatural, to crawl so--reminded her that she was watched, her thighs sliding against each other, her breasts hanging, jiggling, beneath her, the floor hard against her knees, her hands, her wrists twinging, her hair falling down past her face as she kept her eyes down.




She listened as he pulled his phone from his pocket, opening the closet door with one hand, careful not to use her thumb--he had said she was to act as a beast, and he was watching. She listened as he dialed, pawing through the bottom of the closet looking for a collar, her collar, feeling her body heat up at the thought, a pleasurable flush filling her groin, her mind starting to fog.




"Hey, Jeff," she heard him say, and she stopped in shock, a shudder racking her body. She had known that he would let Jeff use her, but not so soon, not now. She felt like she was going to cry, and then her eyes found the collar. It was a simple, leather dog collar, with chrome spikes around most of it and a single loop next to the buckle for a leash. Thoughts of Jeff left her mind and she almost reached out for it, remembering only at the last moment that she was not to use her hands.




"My bitch is back. Yah. She's right here, crawling for me. Yep. That's right. The sooner the better. Okay. Okay. I'll see you in a few. Bye."




The words seemed to flow into her, through her, running around her body as she lifted the collar with her teeth, tasting the leather against her tongue. They filled her body, flooding it with lust, her mind fogging, her thoughts narrowing to the feel of her own body, of its movements as she crawled back to him, of the sensation of the collar between her teeth, of how she was a bitch, a dog, an animal, her Master's pet, her Master's pet that he was going to show off to his friend. She wanted him, wanted him to touch her, to mount her, to use her like a wild beast; she could feel herself start to whimper with need deep down in her chest as she turned her head up to him, offering him her collar.




He smiled down at her as she lifted the collar up to him, crawling, a tiny, almost whine coming from her as he took the proffered collar and tossed it onto the bed. "Not yet, Steph. After your punishment is done, after I release you from the discipline of the she-quadruped, then you will wear the collar. Now, crawl into the living room, in front of the TV, and get down on your elbows, ass up. Jeff will be here soon, and I suspect he'll want to fuck you."




She almost moaned in disappointment, the need inside her growing. She found herself wanting Jeff, wanting him to come in and see her, see her kneeling and obedient, see her willingness to be used, to give him pleasure, at Steve's command.




------




Every minute she knelt, every second that passed, seemed to build the tension inside her body, the waiting almost a torture, feeling every inch of her nudity, of the way she arched her back, of how her weight pressed against her elbows and forearms and knees, of how exposed she was, her body parallel to the couch, her ass raised high. Time ticked by slowly, ever so slowly, as she listened to Steve, to her Master, walk around the house, her eyes closed, willing him to take her, willing Jeff to come and take her, clenching and unclenching her inner muscles just to feel that fleeting moment of pleasure deep inside her groin. She had never felt so much a possession, had never been so deep before, everything submission before a prelude to this moment when she had given everything up, had given up her deepest, darkest secret, had had it taped--she shivered as she realized how much power she had given him, her Master, how he could ruin her, destroy her; the very thought made her body burn with both humiliation and lust. She wanted him to do it, to show it to everyone, to make her a pariah, and outcast, good only to be used as a kneeling slave.




She jerked as she heard a knock on the door, and then Jeff was there, loud footsteps and a loud voice. "Where's the little bitch," she heard him say, and then, "Ah, there you are, Steph. Looking good, you teasing bitch. I've been waiting for three days now, you stupid cunt, and I'm really going to enjoy this."




"First, though," he said, making her quiver, her eyes still closed, "I'm going to make your ass nice and red for giving me such a fucking case of blue-balls. Damn, girl, you even managed to get Amy pissed at me I was asking for so many blowjobs. She just didn't understand that her best friend was making me so horny."




She heard it before she felt it, a 'woosh' through the air, and then it struck her, her body jerking, pain lancing through her ass, his words mingling with the slap of the belt across her flesh. "Bitch. Teasing. Little. Fucking. Bitch. Sexy. Fucking. Cunt. Damned. Gonna. Fucking. Hurt. You. Damned. Slut." She was moaning, tears running down her face, dripping onto the hardwood floor, her ass burning, pain filling her body, her lust unabated, wanting him to stop only so that he would fuck her, the pain a repentance, a catharsis, her body rocking forward with each blow, seeming to sway backward into the next.




Then it stopped, and she sobbed in pain and need as she heard him step out of his pants, waited as he fumbled, remembering that he had to put on a condom to use her now--she was Steve's, and Jeff had to follow his rules to use his property, the thought making her almost cry out for him to use her. Then his hands were gripping her hips and his cock, cold in its sleeve, covered with lube, pressed up against her ass. At first it was slow, pressing into her nether hole, making her tremble as she felt herself give, her anus opening under the pressure, and then, suddenly, his hips jerked forward, and she screamed out as her ass was filled, as his hips slammed into her ass cheeks, her whole body jerked forward, pain and pleasure mixing, her cunt spasming in jealousy as Jeff started riding her hard.




"Fucking teasing cunt," he growled, pounding into her, thrusting forward each time as if trying to drive her whole body into the ground, as if trying to punch his cock through her body, to skewer her from ass to mouth. His hands on her hips hurt; his cock pounding her ass hurt; but just the right amount, it hurt just the right amount to be so good, so good she thought she was going to pass out, so good she thought she was going to explode. He stopped, her body trembling against hers, his hands digging harder into her hips, making her moan, and she knew he was cumming, disappointment flooding her, and she groaned, humping back at him, trying to relieve the burning need in her cunt.

Part 11

I think my bitch wants to cum," she heard her Master say.



"Then she'll just have to suffer. Bitch gave me blue balls for three days. It'll serve her right to feel a little bit of that. Hey. Is it okay if I take a seat and have her suck me off a bit? I love having a hot mouth around my cock after I get off."




"As long as you clean yourself up first, go to it. I don't want the bitch to get sick. Oh, and I'll show you Steph's video debut, too. You'll love it."




"Thanks." She knelt, panting, her heart throbbing in her chest, her ass pleasantly sore, the pain of his hands on her hips still lingering, her forehead resting on the floor as she listened, the heat in her body, so focussed just moments before, dissipating throughout her body, her mind empty except for the need for more: more sensation, more pleasure, more pain, more use. The water in the bathroom ran, and she heard Jeff's footsteps as he came out of the bathroom, felt the floor shift as he stood next to her, his hand grabbing her hair, dragging her over to the couch as he sat, pulling her face against his cock, the scent of soap filling her nostrils as he held her there and simply said, "Suck."




She moaned as she slid her lips around his softening cock, her hands on his thighs, kneeling like a slave before him, her knees apart, her ass sore, her cunt feeling empty, tingling with desire, her body hot. As she caressed him inside her mouth, she heard the television turn on, and suddenly, behind her, she heard her own voice, "My name is Stephanie...". She quailed inside, her stomach tightening, her body shivering as she listened to herself, listened to herself as she degraded and humiliated herself in front of the camera, heard the quiver in her voice, heard the hitches in her breath as her excitement built on camera. She could feel herself turning red as Jeff's hand tightened on her scalp and his cock started to harden again. She saw Steve out of the corner of her eye as he sat down on the other end of the couch, her body growing hot at his nearness.




"Jesus, Steve," she heard him say, "you've got the bitch now. Jesus."




The words made her tremble. She had placed all her trust in Steve; she had given him something horrible, something with which he could truly blackmail her, could truly make her do anything. Her body burned hotter as she continued to work on his friend, as she knelt before him.




"Damn, Steph, I always did like the way you came, that sexy expression on your face," she heard Jeff say as his hands took either side of her head, guiding her mouth over his cock. "Hey, Steve, can I have a copy?"




The pause by her Master made her moan in despair, mouth filled with cock, "No. I don't think so. I'll keep this to myself for now."




"Eh. Too bad. Jeez, Steph, you've gotten good at this. Uhh. Take it, you bitch, drink it all down, you stupid little slut. Uhhh."




She gagged as the first spurt of his cum hit the back of her throat, swallowing quickly, hollowing her cheeks and sucking, flattening her tongue, pleasure filling her as she accepted his spend, taking it into her, giving him pleasure at the will of her Master. He kept her there like that, suckling his cock, until he softened again, and then pushed her away and pulled up his pants, leaving her kneeling, unsure as to what to do.




"On all fours, bitch," she heard her Master say, and immediately fell to her hands and knees. "Hey, Jeff, why don't you get her something to eat? Just toss it on the floor--she'll eat every bite, isn't that right, Steph?"




She could feel her face turn red, her whole body trembling with the need that had been stoked in her since her Master had ordered her to get her collar, that need that had built through Jeff's ass-fuck and had grown with the taste of his cock in her mouth, his cum filling her, sliding down her throat, on her knees, enslaved.




"Yip," she yipped for "Yes, she would eat from the floor for him; she would crawl and lick the floor clean; she would do anything for her Master."




She crawled into the kitchen, her ass high, her eyes on the ground, as Jeff rummaged around in the refrigerator and Steve restarted her video, the sound of her own voice, her needy, wanton voice, a background to the buzzing in her ears, the throbbing of blood through her body, the slickness on her thighs signalling her need. She jerked when a piece of sandwich meat slapped to the ground in front of her, glancing up at Jeff who had sat down at the kitchen table, watching her, a smirk on his face. She bent down, using her lips to pull the meat into her mouth, feeling like an animal, a beast, feeding on scraps by the kitchen table. She shuddered and clenched her thighs, whining in need.




"Hey, Steve, I think your bitch needs to cum. She's practically humping air here."




"Sure. Whatever. Have her fuck the table leg. That's what bitches do, isn't it?"




"Heh. You heard the man, Steph. You can cum, you greedy slut, but you'll have to do it by rubbing your nasty cunt up against the table leg here."




Humiliation flooded her, made her pause, just for a moment, before a fire seemed to blossom in her belly. It was awful, humiliating, degrading, and her mind was filled with fog as scuttled over to the table, her knees on either side of the table leg, her arms behind her, supporting her as she leaned back, her hips pushing her cunt up against the leg, her head hanging back, her hair brushing against the floor, her lips parted as she moaned in pleasure as she pushed slowly, steadily, against the table leg.




"Eager little bitch, aren't you Stephanie?" she heard Jeff say, his words filling her with a self-loathing that seemed to fuel her lust, her hips jerking upward, pain that was pleasure rocking through her body, another moan torn from her.




"Jesus, Steph, you're one hot bitch, you know that?" More, she thought, she wanted more, harder. She wanted Amy here, to see her, to see her shame, her degradation. She moaned again as her hips bucked against the table leg, the leg glistening with her juices. She came, grunting out her pleasure, but she couldn't stop, couldn't stop with Jeff just sitting there, watching her; she imagined that it wasn't just him, wasn't just Amy, but all her friends, all her friends watching that tape, all her friends watching as her Master led her crawling, on a leash, before them.




She felt hands in her hair, and she opened her eyes to see Steve looking down at her, "She's a beautiful, sexy fucking animal, isn't she, Jeff." The words, the feel of his hands, his eyes on her body as she ground her cunt against the table leg brought another orgasm crashing down around her, her body shaking, a gagging, incoherent sound coming from her throat, her mind blanking as pleasure filled her.




------




As she dressed, getting ready to go home, she thought about what Jeff had said after she had come down from her orgasm.




"You are one lucky girl, Steph. I mean, I love fucking you and all, but no way could I put up with this crazy slave-thing you've got going. I mean, making you crawl, and eat off the floor, and shit like that might be fun for a time or two, but, man, I'd get tired of it pretty quick. Steve, though, Steve's totally into it. I can't think of too many guys who'd put in the effort. They'd just do what I was doing and come by and fuck you; maybe they'd play a bit, but not like Steve's doing. Like I said, you are one lucky girl."




She had felt it, she had felt that relief, that release of tension, when she had known that Steve was going to take her back, was going to treat her like a slave again. Before Jeff had spoken, she hadn't thought of what Steve had been doing as work--she had thought that she was the one giving of herself, that he was only taking from her, using her body, using her as a thing. But, she realized, he had had to manage her, had had to push her, and tease her, and keep her sexually stirred up, had had to be in control so that she could lose control completely. She was lucky, lucky to have such a person, a person who didn't judge, a person who wanted for her what she wanted, and wanted for himself what she wanted for him--her sexual slavery to him.




The next day Steve showed up when she and her friends were eating lunch and made it clear that he was her boyfriend, surprising her with how good it made her feel, even though her friends teased her and peppered her with questions until it was time to go back to lunch.




That evening, she was back on all fours, her ass up in the air, crawling for him, laying on the floor, forced to watch the video of her humiliating herself, waiting for Jeff to come and fuck her. For the next week it was like that, one moment a young woman, a student with a new boyfriend, laughing with her friends, studying with them, the next a slave, on all fours, crawling, wishing and hoping for her Master's touch, being denied in her punishment, being taken and used by his friend, humping her cunt against his shoes, his couch, his table, anything to find release, no matter how humiliating or degrading.




Amy teased her about Steve, and, as bad as she felt about deceiving her friend, about knowing what her friend's boyfriend was doing to her almost every day, the need to submit to her Master overwhelmed her until it seemed she lived for those few hours a day when she could be crawling at his feet. It was when she was leaving his apartment, just before the weekend, that he asked her a question.




"Hey, slave. How long has it been since I've fucked you?"




She paused, her eyes downcast, "Eight days, Master. It's been eight days since you've fucked me."




"Pack an overnight bag. You are staying over here for the weekend. If you're good, maybe that will change."




"Thank you Master," her body trembling with a sudden, overwhelming need as she left.




------




She was glad that Amy was home for the weekend--she was sure that Amy would tease her mercilessly about spending the weekend at Steve's place, especially since she thought Steve was such a good catch. Standing at his door, the excitement and need in the pit of her belly making her quiver, she took a deep breath and unlocked the door, stepped in, shut and locked the door, and immediately fell to her knees. She kept her eyes cast down as she removed her clothes, folded them, and placed them on the side table near the door. The humiliation of it, the submissiveness of it, seemed to blank her mind of everything except her own nudity, of her own servitude, and she fell to her hands and knees, knowing that she was still under the punishment of the she-sleen. Tucking her legs under her, she lay down, waiting for her Master's orders.




"Come here, slut," he said, and she rose to her hands and knees, eagerness filling her; he had made her wait for an hour before, lying there, hoping, a dog waiting for her Master's call.




Keeping her ass up, her elbows bent, she crawled across the floor, her eyes up, her heart skipping a beat as she rounded the couch and saw, right where the coffee table used to be, a cage. It was a cage. She stopped, and moaned, her eyes lifting to meet his as he sat on it, holding the front of the cage open, an evil smile on his face and two vibrators in his hands.




"I had this custom made for my slave. It cost me a bundle, but I'm sure she'll be happy waiting on my pleasure here, when I so desire it. Oh, and notice that it opens from the inside, but only locks from the outside, so you'll be able to get out whenever you want, but I'll know." He smiled again, loving the way her breathing had quickened, the way her pupils had dilated in lust. "Oh, and before you go in, I've got two toys for your slutty fuck-holes." With that, he waved the two vibrators in front of her, one clearly meant for her ass, the other with a jointed end and a protrusion for her clit. "Now, back in, my slave. I want to see how you look in a cage."




She looked at him, through him. A cage--he had purchased a cage, had had one built for her, for her. A cage. The thought sent a warm flush through her body, seeming to concentrate in the pit of her stomach, pleasure blossoming in her cunt, hazing her mind. She looked up at him smiling down at her, at her, his animal, his willful beast, his slave, and then back at the cage, wondering at it. It was all black, with crossed bars, thick for being woven through each other, with about two inches square between each weave, with the frame consisting of inch thick steel, easily supporting Steve's weight. She could see that, if she crawled into it, that her lower back would press against the top of the cage unless she spread her legs.




She looked up at him again, and turned around, a whimper escaping her throat, a need building inside her, a need to be caged at her Master's command, a need to be completely bound by him, completely kept. She slowly backed up, her head turned, her eyes behind her, her knees feeling the pain of the bars against her flesh first, drawing another whimper from her as her Master looked on as she caged herself. As her head entered the cage, as her hands pressed against the hard, meshed metal of the floor of the cage, as her toes felt the back of the cage, she shuddered, a wave of intense feeling washing over her, her eyes closing as she paused and just felt, just felt, the cage around her, the bars holding her in, capturing her, possessing her. She lowered herself onto her elbows, and pushed her hips down, adjusting herself, feeling the extent of her cage, feeling how uncomfortable she would be, her weight pressing down against the metal bars, unable to stretch out, caught, trapped, kneeling, naked, exposed.




Her body jerked when she felt and heard the door to her cage close, her eyes opening, seeing her Master from within her cage as he looked in at her. Oh god, she felt like her skin was burning, her thighs clenching, drawing a moan from her as pleasure flooded her whole body, the pain of her confinement a minor distraction to her complete subjugation.




"Here slave," her Master said, pushing the vibrators through the cage. "You know what to do with these. Now, try to be quiet. I have some work to do. Oh, and see, right there? If you need to get out, just get out. Of course, that's only for an emergency. I'll come by and check on you later." He gave her a little wave and walked into his bedroom, leaving her alone.





------





The feeling of the anal vibrator sliding into her cunt sent electric shivers down her spine, making her gasp, her breaths coming in pants as she lubricated the vibe using her own slut juices, feeling so dirty, so degraded, as she participated in her own humiliation. Pushing it into her ass she closed her eyes as pleasure washed over her, a strange heat making her gasp as a sensation akin to an orgasm flooded her, leaving beads of sweat on her body. She jumped when she turned it on, her heart thudding in her chest as the vibrating sensation flooded her ass and lower body. She waited, motionless, until her breathing evened out and her heart stopped thudding in her chest, and moved the other vibrator to her cunt, slowly pushing it in, gasping as it slid easily into the tight sheath of her pussy. She shuddered and came, a gentle, rolling pleasure suffusing her body, as the vibrator's clit teaser slipped against her clit, holding it there as she accepted the pleasure, rode it, panting when it left her body. She had just cum, and she was still so close, another orgasm seemingly just within reach, her body hyper sensitive to any sensation, even the pain in her knees and elbows transformed into a wonderful ache.




She turned on the vibrator lodged in her cunt, the sensations striking her like an electric bolt, a strangled scream pulled from her, her fingers curling around the cage bars as she pushed her head against them on the floor of the cage, the sensations almost too much, almost painful. She felt it coming, felt the pleasure building deep in her groin, the vibrating plugs in her body, against her clit, sending her pulse racing, her heart hammering in her chest, her breath short and shallow and quick as she closed her eyes and felt her captivity all around her. Her hips jerked, her lithe Asian body trembled and spasmed and ecstasy flooded her, rushed through her nerves, sending her body shaking, the cage rattling around her as she shook and moaned, her mind blanked, the only thing that mattered was her cum, her wonderful, wonderful orgasm that made her toes curl and her body tremble.




Sweat dripped from her body as the orgasm left her body, leaving her limp and spent, panting in the cage. The metal bit into her arms and forehead and knees and she shifted, the reminder of her captivity, of her utter subjugation, combined with the vibrators still maddeningly pulsing and twisting in her ass and cunt to reignite her lust. She moaned again and shifted, greedy for the coming pleasure.

Part 12

Lost in her own lust, every sensation she was feeling inside the cage adding fire to her need, she barely heard her Master, her jailer, when he walked in and looked down at her through through the cage.






"Slave. Hey, slave!" She looked up at him through lidded eyes, the vibrators driving her toward another orgasm. "Shouldn't you thank your Master for getting you such a nice cage?"






"Ah. Ah." Her mind fogged with pleasure, she almost forgot herself, almost forgot that she was only an animal now. "Yip. Yip yip." She tried to wiggle her ass, the movement turning into a trembling shudder as another orgasm gripped her body.






"That's a good bitch," he said as she sagged in the cage, her head against the ground. "How many times have you cum, slave?"






"Yip, yip, yip."






"Good slave." He patted the cage, driving home her confinement. "I'll be done in about an hour. Enjoy."






She moaned, sliding her fingers back to her cunt, to her clit, the feeling of the cage under her knees, under her arms and head, up against her thighs and hips as she shifted around, keeping her in a constant state of heat, the buzzing of the vibrators in her cunt and ass relentlessly pounded her insides, turning her body and mind into a soft, liquid gel that seemed to burn with pleasure. Another hour, she thought, another hour locked in a cage like an animal, and she felt the pleasure begin to build up again deep in the pit of her stomach.






An hour later she lay panting in the cage, the aches and pains of being confined, on her hands and knees, settling over her, her last orgasm, her fifth since she had crawled into the cage, her cage, hers. It had taken some time, some time to build up, some time for her to tease her overheated and overused flesh into more pleasure, the vibrators almost a distraction as she shifted around in her cage, feeling her bondage, her submission, her fingers squeezing her clit, ignoring the pain of overuse that radiated from her pleasure bud, rubbing it and teasing it, wanting so badly to cum again, her mind demanding it, demanding that the caged animal cum. When it had finally hit she had rattled her cage, had writhed and bucked against it as her mind went blank except for the perfect ecstasy of her orgasm, her slender Asian body shaking sweat from it as it thrashed inside its cage.






The sound of clapping made her turn her head up, and she blushed in shame as she saw Steve standing before her clapping, clearly having seen her cum, having seen her grunt and thrash like a greedy pig, pushing herself to an orgasm while locked in a cage.






"That was beautiful, slave. Just like a beast, rutting in her cage." He kneeled down and opened the cage door. Standing, he quickly stripped his clothes off and said, "Now come, you sexy little animal, and show me how happy you are to have your very own cage." With that he sat down on the couch, his eyes seeming to bore holes in her back, his cock hard against his leg.






Stephanie whimpered as she crawled out of the cage, her body aching from the movement after the forced confinement, the vibrators humming inside her cunt and ass relentless, almost numbing, making her groin ache as she crawled around her cage and genuflected before the feet of her Master. He had called her an animal, a rutting animal, her mind fogged with pleasure and need; that's what she was, a needy pet, a thing, not yet a slave. She wasn't good enough to be a slave, wasn't good enough to serve him as a human being--she could only be his beast, his pet, until she was worthy to wear his collar. She shuddered at her own thoughts and slid her tongue across his feet, bathing them, caressing them, showing her Master how much she loved him and his gift for her.






His whole body tingled as she worked her way up his legs, his feet and toes still warm from her attentions, and he took a deep breath as her hair brushed against his calves, her head turned to the side so that her tongue could caress the inside of his knee. His cock throbbed as he looked down at her, marveling at the way she had fallen into her role, how quickly she had taken to it, taken to being his slave. She was such a sexy little piece of meat, such a beautiful, desirable thing, so lithe, so lean, and she was at his feet, pleasuring him, his cock throbbing as she made her way to his thigh, her face hidden by her hair. It wasn't enough, though, he thought. He wanted more, he wanted everything she had to give. He wanted to own her completely, totally, knowing that she wasn't there yet, that there where things she still wouldn't do for him. He growled deep in his throat as he thought of it, of how he was going to make her his, completely and irrevocably, her breath on his testicles turning the growl into a low moan.






Her mind fogged as she knelt at his feet, her tongue, her lips, her hair, her cheeks and hands and arms and breasts all servicing him, using every part of her upper body to pleasure him, to make this man, her Master, happy with her submission. Her slender body, exhausted and spent by her own need, by her own greedy lust, was filled with a low, pleasurable buzzing warmth as she rubbed herself across his feet and his calves and his thighs. She was his slave, meant to please him, meant to be used by him, her body warming as her lips brushed against his testes, her breasts crushed against his legs. She was going to take him into her mouth, going to use her tongue and her lips to pull his cum from him, and the mere thought made her body grow warmer.






He groaned when her mouth, warm and soft and greedy, engulfed his cock, the feeling so good after having denied himself for so long. As she worked on him, he knew that, had he not been so excited, she would, for all her enthusiasm, have trouble making him cum with her mouth without his active participation, and he smiled even as she rolled those sexy eyes up toward him, looking at him for approval, knowing that it didn't matter, that he could train her, teach her, teach his slutty little beast-girl how to suck him, how to take him until she gagged, his cock down her throat, and her tongue lapped at his balls. He reached down and ran his hands through her hair, loving the way his cock looked as it slid between her sexy red lips.






Her jaw began to ache as she slid his cock across her tongue, her lips encircling it, sliding up and down across its smooth flesh. It was a pleasant ache, an ache that showed her dedication, her willingness to do whatever was necessary to please him, an ache that warmed her and excited and and made her want to climb on top of him and mount him, his cock buried deep into her grasping, greedy cunt, pleasuring her, making her cum, again. She felt his thighs tense under her hands, his cock pulse, and then the taste of him flooded her senses, his hands clenching against her head as he filled her mouth with his cum.




"Don't swallow," she heard, and shuddered at the command, keeping her lips tight around his cock as he finished inside her mouth, his cum bitter and harsh against her tongue. She kept her lips pressed together as she slid him from her mouth, turning her eyes toward his, waiting for his next command.




"Crawl over to the kitchen and then let my cum drip out onto the floor. I want to see you clean it up with your tongue, Stephanie, like a good dog. Wait, though. I want to get my video camera." He quickly went to his room, grabbed his video camera, and focused on her as she knelt, waiting. He waved his hand and watched her as she crawled past him, the camera focusing on her face, obscured by her hair, her lips tightly pressed together, then her hanging tits, and finally her ass, held high, her cunt swollen and red. He followed her as she crawled to the kitchen, stopping beside the table, and lowered her head, his cum, mixed with her saliva, dripping from beneath her lips onto the tile.




"Look up at me, Stephanie, and lick your lips for the camera. Good girl. Good slut."




Her face burned with humiliation as she looked at Steve, at her Master, and licked her lips, the taste of his cum still heavy in her mouth. It was so dirty, so nasty, what she was doing, what he wanted her to do, it was so good.




"What are you waiting for? Clean it up, you nasty, greedy, slut."




Her breathing quickened as she leaned down, trying to keep her hair from falling into the puddle of saliva and cum, and put out her tongue, licking the floor as her Master commanded, her body trembling in lust, her still sore cunt seeming to burn with need. She wanted him, she wanted him inside her so much, so much, the taste of him against her tongue, the feel of the cold tile and her body bent and prostrate as he video taped her degradation filling her with need.




Walking home that evening, a nine-inch gel dildo buried in her cunt, the soft, rubbery material feeling strangely intrusive with each step even as it reminded her that she was his, his slave, his pet, his to do with as he pleased. She was to use it, he had said, after cumming over it, to practice deep-throating. She was, he had said, to be able to take him to the root by the end of the next week. She moaned under her breath as she thought of it, and she thought that she would do anything for him.

Back to T Collection | back to main page