Sarah's Journey into Submission

It began as a leisurely process, starting with blows that were hardly more than a caress, and building in speed and intensity until I had to shut my eyes and I was whimpering through pursed lips. I had been paddled and strapped enough during the week to know that it would be easy to bear if I just relaxed into it, but my bonds forced tension into my muscles. I could only strain against them in my pain and endure the lash. Mrs. Lucy watched my face as she worked my breasts, belly and thighs, seeing resistance battle with surrender. The most telling blows fell where nature provided the least padding, and I was soon showing welts.

She paused just long enough to take a hardened nipple in her mouth, suckling it entirely as I whimpered and leaned forward, presenting my breasts to her.

"You know why I was kissing?" she murmured when she withdrew her mouth. "To make it more slippery," she said, attaching a pair of cloverleaf clamps onto each nipple, the long chain that connected them dangling down between my breasts. "Mmmmmm," she cooed, and I cried out as they were attached, my lips quivering.

The soft caress of the strap returned, and I moved back to meet it as it found my ass once more. "Raise," she said softly form behind me, and I tried my best to lift my ass into the air. This only made my pussy more available to her, and the strap licked down there as well.

Eventually she paused again, but only to lift the chain and place it between my teeth, pulling my nipples up high in the process and stretching them. "Hold onto this," she said, and resumed the spanking, every so often pulling my head back by my hair, the clamps pulling and tugging my nipples even more. These were the ones that tightened as you pulled, and no more how hard she tried to get me to pull them off, they only got tighter, and my juices flowed more liberally from between my legs.

She paused again. "Piss."

I opened my eyes in shock. "Mistress?"

She hit me again, hard across the ass and I yelped.

"There is a floor drain between your legs. Piss."

She knew I had been holding it for a while, but I was shy. She intended this as a deliberate humiliation, my most menial functions no longer to be private. She wasn't into any weird bodily function stuff and neither was I. This was simply another stage of the humiliation, another way to exert her total control over me. She knew me in the most intimate way possible after all, what more did I have to hide? She walked around behind me and lay another series of savage blows across my ass.

"Piss!"

The dam breaks. I spray a stream on the floor, red faced with shame. She uncoils a garden hose and douches me, hosing down the floor as well. I gasp when the gold water hits me.

She shuts the water off and stands regarding me.

I then feel the hard shaft push at my anus, the fake cock she was most fond off strapped to her hips and once again ready to enter me. I was still pretty sore from last night, and I clenched instinctively as she pushed forward.

"Is that hesitation?" she murmured in my ear as she met resistance. With a quick slap to the ass, I relaxed instantly and the fake cock oozed into my backside. "No Mistress" I cooed as she slide it into me. "Please fuck me in the ass," I yelped as she drove it home.

The clamps, still dangling from my nipples, swayed wildly as the tempo increased and my Mistress began her slow rhythmic fucking. "Good girl," she cooed again, nibbling at my neck as she pulled the chain downwards and I crept slowly upwards towards an orgasm.

"Beg me to cum with the cock in your ass," she murmured into my ear as she nibbled the lobe and reached forward to play with my clit. It was enough to send me inexorably higher and I begged and pleaded for release, only to be silenced once more as the chain was placed into my teeth and my head tugged backwards again so that she could wring the most violent, explosive, mind-blowing and intense orgasm that I ever had from my sweat soaked body.

When my body stopped quaking and shivering, the clamps were taken off and I was filled with three different dildoes. Once they were all buckled firmly into place in their respective orifices, I was given the strap for my earlier hesitation and danced about on my tiptoes as she worked me over, my cries silenced by the penis gag stuffed in my mouth.

When her arm tired, the three dildoes were removed and I was down on my knees in front of her, the drain on the floor right under me. I knew what was going to be expected, and whimpered a soft "Ahhh!" as the clamps returned to my nipples. I wanted to cry out that they couldn't take anymore, but whimpered again as she lifted and put the chain in between my teeth once more and bobbed the fake cock in front of my face.

"Hold it up," she warned, and I lifted my head to do as I was told, my nipples protesting as they were pulled up higher. "Open your mouth, and I want you to keep this cock over the chain," she said, sliding the cock into my mouth and lifting the cock up and over to slide down to its base. This tugged my nipples even farther, and I cried out from under the dock as she rocked her hips back and forth. "Use your tongue," she commanded, and once again I did as I was told.

When she had enough of that, the chain was placed back into my mouth and I was told to relieve myself again. "I'm going to count to thirty and you're going to piss and keep going, or I'm going to punish that ass like never before.

The countdown began, but she only needed to get to 15 before it began to flow.

"Look at that," she cooed. "It's interesting what you can do when you're under pressure isn't it?"

"Yes Mistress," I mumbled softly, without letting the chain slip from between my lips.

"What do you say?"

I was numbed again by that point, but knew enough not to keep quiet. "Thank-you Mistress," I crooned with the chain still in my mouth.

"Pull harder," she commanded.

Gritting my teeth, I did as I was told, gasping out an "Ahh! Ahhhh! Ahhhh!" as I pulled.

"I didn't quite hear you," she murmured, coming down to lift my head back.

"Thank-you Mistress!" I finally cried out.'

Chapter 14

Throughout the next week, there were positions I learned to assume on command. "Stand for inspection" meant that I was to clasp my hands behind my head and spread my legs. The other to "Present" meant that I was to spread my legs and touch the floor. There were other poses, kneeling with my hands on my knees, or clasped behind my back or head, kneeling up with my ass off of my kneels and my back straight.

All these postures were humiliating and served to enhance my availability and vulnerability. She would bark these command at random times, and I would be punished if I was slow to respond or carless in the arranging of my limbs. I was to keep my back straight and shoulder back, so that my breasts were thrust out.

All that week she delighted in finding common household objects that could be put to new uses. She would roll ice cubes between her palms to melt off the sharp edge before inserting them into my anus, where they would ache until they melted, leaving me pleading for permission to use the toilet. I folded laundry wearing spring clothespins clipped to my nipples and labia.

One day, she tied a piece of string between my ankles and had my walk up and down a flight of stairs (ass full, of course). She left a foot of slack in the line, so that I could take small steps without strains. I was overeager the first time I tried it; I stepped too high and broke the string. When I tried again, I had a glowing red ass to improve my concentration and a larger plug inserted to remind me to do better.

Another day, once dinner was ready, she sat down and watched as I set the food on the table, admiring my young perky ass as I leaned over the table to set things down. I noticed the lust building in my Mistress' eyes as I prepared the table, and loved the attention.

Suddenly, with a forceful voice, Lucy commanded me to climb up on the table. I thought it strange, but I did as I was told.

"Kneel right here in front of me, with your legs spread, and masturbate while I eat my dinner. I want to see your pussy get wet. I want to see you cum... and don't stop until I tell you to," she said in rather irritated, yet lustful voice.

As commanded, I spread her legs open wide, scooted up close to my Mistress' plate, and began to play with my cunt. Quickly my pussy began to get wet and I began to get more excited as I performed on the table in front of my mistress. Rubbing turned to fingering -- one finger turned to two.

As my excitement built, Lucy stopped eating to watch and leaned back in her chair until I was on the verge of cumming.

"Stop," she ordered, and I knew enough not to disobey, and once the sensations had passed, she ordered me to start again.

I did as I was told and resumed the stroking around my clit, soon to be followed by my fingers going inside. I watched as Lucy stood in front of me, my fingers and this strange situation building my excitement once again. And once again, as I brought myself to the edge of orgasm and asked for permission to cum, I was greeted with a no and told to stop and lie back.

So I laid back on the table with my legs opened, and waited.

Suddenly, I jumped to the stinging slap of the light leather strap across my pussy. I looked up between my legs in fright and was welcome with a sour grin. "Don't stare at your betters," my Mistress said. She came down with another pop on my pussy once again and I laid back on the table. It was all I could do to keep from clamping my knees together to prevent another strike. The slaps hurt, but they also excited. I could feel the juices in my pussy begin to flow again.

"So, you're a nasty little slut, are you?" Mrs. Lucy asked.

"Yes, Mistress, I am a slut. Slap my nasty pussy and teach me a lesson," I moaned out, shocked at my own words as I was slapped four or five more times, driving me higher and wilder with excitement.

POP! POP! POP! Mrs. Lucy swung the strap down on my pussy lips and I squirmed my ass around on the table waiting for the next slap. Soon my eyes rolled back in my head and I began breathing heavily.

At that moment, she suddenly stopped and leaned forward, burying her face into my hot swollen snatch. My pussy was on fire at this point, and her warm mouth was cool and soothing on the heat of me steaming cunt.

Licking and sucking, Mrs. Lucy pushed me closer and closer to an intense orgasm. I didn't require much at that point before I was ready to explode into wet climax, and I moaned and squealed as my Mistress' talented tongue danced about my clit and pouting lips. I reached forward and gripped her hair instinctively as I felt myself reaching the top. My legs came together and wrapped around her head, pumping my pussy into her face again and again. When she reached up to pull on my nipples, I suddenly exploded, gushing my juices into her mouth.

Drained of energy, I went limp on the table as my Mistress rose up, wiping her hands on my thighs and licking her lips.

That night, Mrs. Lucy invited me into her bed and cuddled me under her arm until I slept. Of course, I wore the chastity belt and I had a little present stuffed into my rear, but I was in bliss. Before finally dozing off though, she whispered into my ear.

"Tomorrow you're going to get the real thing in that lovely ass of yours, and you're going to wriggle and squeal for it."

Pause-a-logue

I know what you're thinking, that Mrs. Lucy was a total bitch, maybe some kind of predator and I was the prey. She was going to pimp me out tomorrow, after all, and that wasn't right was it? But it wasn't like that, not at all. We spent plenty of time talking quietly by the fire. I enjoyed the way she cuddled me after a session, how she brought me down from the high and soothed me. It was comforting.

Do I have to tell you that we had the most incredible sex too?

She knew exactly what buttons to push and where to push them, and after that first ass fucking, I was allowed to cum without something in my backside. She wringed orgasms form me that left me positively weak in the knees, that had me seeing stars and crying out for more. Which she delivered, wringing them out of me until I couldn't possibly take any more, despite being multi-orgasmic. Then she would make me cum again, and I thanked her for it and licked her fingers clean afterward.

Mrs. Lucy wasn't grim about punishment sessions either, even when I was getting something I deserved. She was a pro after all and she could read me like a book and knew exactly when I had had enough, or when I could take just a little bit more. We had safe words and she took every precaution, at every stage I was allowed the right to refuse and call an end to the game. She never broke the skin or did anything irreparable, we had talked in great length about my limits and she knew when I was close to breaking, and never went over the line. I was never tempted to cry out for her to truly stop the game.

As my affection grew, the choices became more and more unthinkable. So I often said nothing when I was blindfolded and bent over to be fucked. It was a harmless game.

She also liked to talk, and there was a time when I was fastened to the bench with my ass glowing like a neon light and my anus stuffed with a hose, when it was surreal. Out of the corner of my eye, I was sneaking frightened glances at the plastic bag of full of blue foamy stuff she would be pumping up my ass later. The inflatable nozzle kept dripping on the tile floor, less I forget. All this time, she was yakking away like we were just two friends, talking about movies and recipes and all that happy crap

We even talked at length about what was to come the next day, exactly who the bloke was she was going to let fuck my ass, and I even met him beforehand. Like a first date, we all sat down for coffee one night and went over the whole premise of what was to come, and I was fine with it.

Where was I? Drifting again. I do that a lot. Anyway, the next morning I was on the bench, my buns blazing (so what else was new?). Mrs. Lucy had been working my ass with her hand, opening me up until three fingers were going in without much strain. I was getting nervous that she might be thinking fist.

I had already measured that cock she was wearing. It was a real mouthful, and I knew that I was in for a long hard ride later that afternoon if she was preparing me this early. Of course, I was hoping she would put it where it belonged, but she stuffed my pussy instead, fucking me hard and fast until she came and I was left whimpering and unsatisfied.

CHAPTER 15

That afternoon, I wore a pleated blue skirt that barely covered my ass. Above that, rough against my bare nipples, was a wool sweater. Where the school initials should have been, embossed letters spelled SLUT. I held a pair of pom-poms, a third with its handle formed in the shape of a large blunt cone, stuffed into my ass, that that it looked like an absurd bunny tail.

Raising my pom-poms high, I shouted: "Spank me hard and fuck me up the ass!"

Hands above my head, I called out: "I like to take it in the rear. Bone me! Bone me!"

Kneeling between him and my Mistress, wearing my skirt and sweater, the bunny tail of my pom-pom tickling my cheeks, I kept my eyes down out of respect, but I had already learned the trick of seeing peripherally, and used a moment to glance at the same who would claim my anal virginity.

He was tall and lean, his features strong and displaying the same implacability that I had learned to love on the face of my Mistress. The bulge that strained the seam of his pant leg suggested an organ of truly frightening proportions, and I was suddenly grateful for the thick plugs and training exercised that had prepared me for him.

"Stand up, sweetheart," he said gently. "Let me have a look at you."

I did not trust his kindly manner. It was a mask. There was cruelty lurking within. He planned to lull me with tenderness, and spring upon me when I was no longer wary. Yet his manner was seductive, and when he stroked my cheek with a strong hand, I leaned in, hungry for the affection it promised.

His hands moved down to caress my throat. "You look lovely in a collar," he murmured. He fractioned my nipples through the rough wool of my sweater, and they stiffened appreciatively. His hands circled my waist before he lifted my skirt to cup my mound and slip a finger into my slit.

"She's already wet," he commented. "Do you cum from being fucked, or do you need to play with your clit?"

"I have been permitted to cum only while my ass is used, Master, but I am capable, Sir"

"I told you she was born for this," said Mrs. Lucy behind me.

He lifted my sweater, and I raised my arms and leaned forward so that he could slip it over my head. "I think you know that it isn't your cunt that interests me."

"Yes, Master," I replied. It came naturally to my lips, and my smiled as he tugged my skirt over my hips and I stepped out of it.

"Present," said Mrs. Lucy.

I turned my back to him, spread my legs, and touched the floor with my legs straight. He grasped my bunny tail and twisted, twirling the plug inside me. I tightened against it. There was no chastity strap to hold it in, and it had been heavily greased. I feared that it would come shooting out of me. "There is a bow on my gift," he chuckled. "Almost a shame to unwrap it," he said, but twisted the tassel off the plug all the same, smacking my ass before pulling it out in one smooth motion and discarding the plug.

"You're tense," he muttered, "Nervous?"

"A little," I admitted.

"You should be. Tighten."

I clenched my muscles as tight as I could. "You're well dilated. Open enough to take a cock easily, but tight enough to give a good ride."

"Thank-you, Master."

He kept one hand planted firmly on my ass while he used the other to deliver one cruel slap. "That didn't require a reply," he said softly.

I pursed my lips and clenched and swallowed my instinctive apology, thinking that silence was the best answer.

He struck my other cheek. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Sorry Master!" I quavered, curling my toes to contain the agony that made me want to kick and dance.

"I see many marks on your ass. Are you a bad slave?

My mind was blank, numbed by fear. Or was it excitement? I could feel the lube, slippery between my cheeks as I knelt there between the two of them. It took all my courage to kneel there on the floor, and I knew instinctively that tonight would mark a turning point of some kind. I would enter a new phase of humiliation and terror. My abasement would be total. My limits would be tested. It was going to hurt.

"No, Sir. I have been punished for pleasure."

Could I bare this? All I had to do was tell Mrs. Lucy that I wanted to leave. She had promised me that the door would always be open. Was it love, really, that kept me there, or only my raging hormones? Had I already passed the point of no return? Could I really ever hope to be happy with a normal life?

I was brought out of my reverie when Mrs. Lucy handed me a box. It had no cover; I was meant to see the things inside. Several condoms, a tube of liniment, and another of lubricant, and inflatable plug, two pair of spring nipple clamps, a penis gag, and a collection of dildoes. Some were ribbed, some covered with warts, some were designed to vibrate of squirm, and all of them were thick.

I was looking at my own torture, and as I moved to lay the items on a nearby table, I laid out the things that would make me moan and thrash.