Full Rigor Pt. 03

"I see you know where this is going. Slaves are expected to entertain guests, so prepare yourself now and don't disgrace me or yourself."

"Yes, Mistress."

"For tonight, cook us both a light meal and you can sleep in the spare room at the end of the hallway. I'll even let you jill off tonight, but don't expect such permission regularly. If I find you doing it without permission, I'll start using a chastity belt and tie you spread-eagled at night. In the meantime, I have work to do. I'll be leaving for surgery about 4:00 a.m. tomorrow and again Wednesday morning. I don't need you to make breakfast for me, but I do expect you to be awake and upright by that time, and to give yourself both a shower and an enema each morning. No sitting on the furniture, no goofing off until everything on the chore list is done. No telephoning or e-mailing, but answer the house phone in case I call with instructions. Right now, though, your first chore is to use your tongue on me--the prospect of a new slut to play with has gotten me excited."

With that, she pulled up her skirt to display her hairless vulva, and I went to work. I much prefer men to women but servicing such a dominant woman played into my submissive orientation; my first sex act as a slave was actually rather pleasant. I couldn't help noticing that she enjoyed the situation too--as I had always assumed, she was a natural dominant.

Thank heavens she gave me permission to play with myself that night. I was already incredibly horny after my first day of slavery, but my mind kept going back to one of many conversations with my husband before I had indentured myself.

"Look, darling, I get it." Rich had said. "I already knew that you're the most beautiful, kinky, and generous lover in the world, and that you always put my pleasure before your own. Now, you're saying that what you love about being a slave is precisely what bothers other people the most--being forced to humiliate yourself while performing sex acts that even YOUR active libido does not dare permit you. While you're a slave, though, you have no free will and can be forced to live out your darkest fantasies. So, when you become a slave for a year, make the most of it, because society REQUIRES slaves to do things that free people never do, or at least never admit, even to themselves, that they might enjoy. For example, while you're a slave if you encounter someone with whom you previously had disagreements, what should you do?"

"Try to please them?" I replied, cautiously.

"Oh, come on, Babe--don't tiptoe around the subject. Forgive me for being crude, but you should beg that person to use your body any way he or she wants, to fuck any hole in any position, the more debased and embarrassing the better, right? If you don't want to experience situations like that, what's the point of self-enslaving your cute butt?"

He paused, then remarked, "Oh, and by the way, remember that you offered to switch positions when you regain your freedom--I may want to have the same fun you're about to have."

Lying in my bed after my third self-induced orgasm, this conversation led me to the thought of meeting Bill Stephenson again. Rich was right--I imagined how humiliating it would be to appear before Bill as a naked servant, but if given half a chance I needed to channel that humiliation and beg him to shaft me any way he wanted. The true embarrassment would be if he spurned the chance to use me! The image of servicing Bill on my hands and knees immediately brought on another climax.

*****

Over the next two days, as I cleaned the house and prepared various desserts and snacks for the party, I was in a constant simmer--I couldn't decide which person I was more worried about seeing me naked, my best friend Hallie or my former frenemy Bill. For the party itself, Mistress Shirley told me to wear a frilly apron that covered (just barely) my boobs and cunt from the front. From the rear, however, only two thin ties, one at the neck and one at the waist, interrupting the view of my naked back and especially my muscular but prominent butt. Still, it was a lot better than total nudity.

I was briefly humiliated when I opened the door about 3 p.m. in response to Cheryl's ring on the bell. Cheryl was a thin, fit blonde with a beautiful face and an outgoing personality--I'm basically hetero, but I must confess that she was so attractive and friendly that I had a bit of a crush on her. Now that I was a slave, I instantly began to imagine servicing her. Shaking off that thought, I curtsied and invited her in. My mistress, who had recently returned from the hospital, kindly left me alone to talk to Cheryl for half an hour. Cheryl repeated what she had told me before my surrender--that she knew me well enough to know that this was my dream, and she hoped I would be happy and would tell her everything I felt, good and bad.

Seeing me kneeling before her in a collar, Cheryl remarked, "I'd die of embarrassment if I were in your position, but you're positively glowing. [She was too diplomatic to mention my aroma] I hope you don't mind, but I've already asked Rich to lend you to me next week so you can clean my house while we talk to each other."

"Why would I mind, Mistress? I signed up for much worse when I enslaved myself, and I'd love to talk with you some more."

I may have been happy to talk to Cheryl's friendly face but serving a crowd of medical professionals as a nearly-naked slave was as excruciating as I had anticipated. No one went out of his or her way to humiliate me, but the men in particular took the opportunity to goose and fondle my body when I came within their reach. I was no longer a human being, still less a fellow professional, but simply a mobile sex object. The experience gave me a mild submissive thrill at the time, and an even greater one when I recalled it afterwards, but even I won't pretend that it was an epic sexual high, nor one needed to repeat (although I did, of course, have similar servant roles, often with less clothing, during the remainder of my servitude.)

By 5:30, the living room was full and the doorbell had not rung in 20 minutes. As I hurried to serve drinks and tried not to spill things when I was grabbed or goosed, I couldn't decide whether I was relieved or disappointed by Bill's apparent absence.

Of course, he chose that moment to arrive, making a fashionably-late entrance even though he was relatively junior in Shirley's group. My face flushed when I opened the door to him, but I still managed to curtsey and repeat a formula of welcome. He grinned at me but did not immediately remark upon my drastic loss of social status. Then, as I turned away to lead him into the living room, he got a full view of my exposed backside. It was mortifying yet thrilling to notice his sudden intake of breath, followed by a low comment that only I could hear: "Damn, Michelle--I always knew you had a nice body, but that ass is spectacular!" He echoed the comment by gently squeezing of my right butt cheek; I paused in mid-stride to thrust my butt backwards at him, letting him know I welcomed the gesture.

I realized that this was exactly what I had sought by self-indenture: acute humiliation that actually stoked my sense of being a desirable sex toy. For the next hour, he pretended to ignore me whenever I was near, but when I happened to turn unexpectedly, I always found his eyes on my scantily-clad body. When I bent over to offer him my tray, he looked straight down my barely-covered cleavage.

Apart from Bill, I got over most of my embarrassment about being a slave in front of this particular group of free people--until Mistress Shirley decided to introduce one final twist. As people began to leave, she assigned me as a naked doorstop--I had to drop the apron and kneel, thighs widespread, holding the front door open and thanking each passing Master and Mistress for coming. Meanwhile, of course, only the clear glass storm door (which the new slave had cleaned, standing naked outside, four hours earlier) separated me from the street where other cars were passing on their return trips from work.

I noticed that Bill lingered when most others had departed, staring openly at my body. Fortunately or unfortunately for me, Shirley decided to take the bull by the horns--and is this case, Bill was the bull on my mind as I imagined his "horn" invading me.

"Look, Bill," she began. "For the last hour or more you've been staring at this slut. If you'd like to use her body, just say so--there's plenty of bondage equipment in my spare bedroom to arrange her any way you'd like."

His face lit up at the prospect, but because he was basically a good guy he tried to show me some residual respect, even while his eyes were exploring every inch of my body. "Oh, no, I couldn't. I mean, she's gorgeous, but we used to work together, and it would feel like taking advantage of a co-worker if I fucked her now, when she can't object."

Shirley snorted, and her voice became impatient. "The little slut has been dreamy-eyed and dripping ever since I told her you might come to the party. She's a glutton for humiliation and forced sex, and a good hard fucking would make her day. Michelle, do you mind if Bill uses you for a few hours?"

"Oh, no, Master Bill." (My apologies to Bill Murray). "I always found you attractive, but being a slave means that I MUST serve you. Please, I'd love it if you would fuck me any way you wanted to." I was pink with embarrassment but determined to fulfil one of my dirty dreams.

He looked at Shirley. "A pleasure slave has no rights, but I don't want to offend her husband."

Shirley grinned: "Who do you think asked me to have you come see her like this? Like any good master, Richard knows what his bitch-slave needs. He said that, since she was dumb enough to enslave herself, he would consider it a personal favor if you'd fuck what's left of her brains out for him." I had thought that being naked on my knees, begging a former co-worker to fuck me, would be the ultimate in humiliation. Knowing that my husband had set this scene up was another level of thrill to me--my husband/owner pimping me out to a former enemy, because he knew that I craved such a combination of submissive sex and embarrassment.

For a moment, I almost thought he would reject my offer, but his face took on a predatory smile. Still looking at me but talking to Shirley, Bill suggested,

"If she's really that eager to abase herself, what better way than for her to service me in front of an audience? I hope you won't take offense, Doctor, but before I take her into her bedroom, may I start by having her fellate me in front of you?"

"I like the way you think--what a great way to put the whore in her place!" my mistress replied. "Why don't you sit down on that sofa and order her to suck you off. In fact, let's go even farther." She stepped into her own bedroom briefly and returned with a very large, battery-operated vibrator in the familiar white rod form. "Here, slut," she said, pushing the rod into my mouth. "Crawl over there, do what Master Bill tells you to do, and while you're at it, use this vibrator on your cunt. But remember--you need his permission before you climax."

As I've remarked before, I couldn't get redder if I tried, but these two dominants really knew how to push my buttons. My mouth filled with white plastic, I shuffled as quickly as I could over to kneel between his open legs. My heart was pounding and I was incredibly turned on, but dared not look up at my temporary master.

"Go ahead, slave," he instructed, very calmly. "Shove that vibrator up your cunt and turn it on, then unzip me, take out my cock, and worship it. I want to see you licking and swallowing every inch--you can use one hand to fondle me but the other is to work that rod in and out of your horny slot. At last--I finally get to shut your smart mouth up and put it to proper use. This is just what you've been dreaming of, isn't it?"

I nodded and mumbled "Yes, Master," the obligatory response, but in this case it was true. I found my hands unzipping him and pulling out a prodigious penis that was fully erect! I know, I know--most pricks look large when they're only a few inches away from your mouth, a mouth that has to accommodate them. And it's not as if my husband was under-endowed, or as if I hadn't swallowed some big dicks back when I was dating. But, Bill's cock looked to be just this side of porn-star proportions--it must have been close to eight inches long and several inches in circumference. He so obviously enjoyed having me serve him that his prick stood out firmly at an angle. For a moment, I wasn't sure if I could handle that monster, and my mind quailed at the thought of taking it in my other openings. But I took a deep breath and swallowed at least half of it on the first lunge. What a rush! I began tonguing as rapidly as possible, pumping him in and out in sync with the vibrator I was rubbing down below.

I'm sure that, had I used that vibrator on my clit, I would have exploded instantly. As it was, the whirring object filling my cunt was more of a tease than a thrill, which was just as well since he'd forbidden me to come without permission. As I tried to suppress my gag reflex and inhale more of Bill, I imagined how nice it would feel to have his large shaft pounding between my legs. Just the thought of that caused me to close my eyes in a blissful daydream.

The moment my eyelids fluttered down, however, Bill was snapping his fingers to get my attention. "Eyes up here, my little cocksucker. Keep your eyes on your co-worker slash master who's fucking your slave face. And you obviously love this, so don't forget to smile!"

He was right--the whole point of this exercise for both of us with the fact that it was BILL finally making me play "slutty nurse" to release years of sexual tension. Besides, I wasn't getting enough oxygen as I tried to accommodate that invader, so I'd better try to get him off. I smiled around his rod, fondling his balls with a few fingers while I focused on his face, revelling in the subjugation of sucking him off when I was forbidden to climax myself. I'm sure I looked like the most wanton bimbo to ever inhale a cock. After I had spent less than a minute in this position, still fellating him rapidly, he suddenly grabbed my head to immobilize it and pumped rapidly in and out, fucking my face.

"Swallow my come, Nurse Michelle. How many times did you dream about sucking my dick?" I couldn't answer with my mouth and throat filled, but in seconds I felt a large load shooting inside me, so far down that little swallowing was required. That was just as well, because I find the taste and the swallowing to be the least enjoyable aspects of servicing a guy. In this case, though, his ejaculation deep into my throat was the perfect climax (pun intended) for a thrilling experience of submission. The thought flashed through my mind that THIS was what I wanted when I enslaved myself.

A moment later, my mouth was suddenly empty as I gasped for breath. I was shivering from the excitement of my humiliation but frustrated because I was trying to follow orders and avoid a climax. In the background I became aware that my temporary mistress was clapping and commending Master Bill for his performance--or was she applauding me for mine? Thanking her, he hastily zipped up his pants before standing and looking sternly at me.

"That was adequate, slave; at least you got me off, so I can last longer when I plug your other holes. Lead me to your bedroom."

Still shaking, I hastily stood up and led the way, getting a firm slap on my butt as I passed him. I heard Bill thanking Shirley for her hospitality and apologizing for his crudeness in using me in front of her.

"Not at all," she replied, a hint of excitement in her own voice. "I always enjoy watching a skilled dominant impose his or her will on a submissive, especially on a natural whore like Michelle."

*****

(George Holmes' experience)

After the thrill of public stripping and enslavement, followed by being on display while caged in a pickup truck, my first days of self-indenture were frankly boring. Master Richard took me back to his home, where he gave me the standard warnings as well as chore lists. He permitted me a clear plastic apron for cooking, and a clear plastic jock plus safety boots when moving heavy objects or mowing his lawn, but otherwise I remained naked, doing routine household chores without the constant prospect of being ravished by my owner. My darling Domme Shirley had given Richard carte blanche to use me sexually, but he didn't seem interested. That sort of relieved me; I was willing to submit to another man to please Shirley, but the actual experience of homosexual rape was NOT something I sought. That first evening, Richard removed the leash from my cock and allowed me to jerk off in my bed but thereafter he had me don a chastity belt that I recognized as one that Shirley had purchased several years earlier.

My temporary master did warn me that he wanted the home cleaned thoroughly before he had a group over for a party on Thursday evening. Cleaning wasn't a problem, but it was boring, as I said. On Wednesday evening, he called me into the living room; I knelt in front of him, hands behind my neck.

"This is just between the two of us," Richard began. "I know what my wife wants to experience as a slave, but I don't know what YOU'RE trying to get out of this. I've seen you do some extreme things at the club when ordered by your Mistress, and that was when you still had a safe word. We both know that I could simply force you to serve in any manner I chose, but that's not really ethical, because you chose to enslave yourself for a specific experience. So, tell me honestly--if tomorrow you had to suck the cock of someone you knew, what would your real feelings be?"

I had been prepared to obey as a slave; to hear him ASK what I felt about that performance was surprising. I should have expected it, though, since I knew from the club that Richard had some submissive tendencies of his own which made him empathize with my self-imposed slavery.

It took me a minute to put my words together so that I could answer him. "Well, I'm not attracted to men, and giving a blowjob would be humiliating. On the other hand, I asked for this subjugation with my eyes wide open, and I know my Mistress wanted me to experience things I would not agree to voluntarily. So, I would feel both disgusted and turned on."

His reply sounded like a court sentence: "OK, your mistress has already told you to service anyone I tell you to. You've been warned."

The next morning, on his instructions, I gave myself an enema, then reported to him. He ordered me to bend over in "Display." I noticed that Master Richard tried his best to minimize touching my body as he first removed my cage, then worked a well-lubricated vibrator up my rectum, and finally wrapped a harness around me that both held the damn thing inside me and gave him a short leash with my scrotum at one end and a snap-hook at the other. He literally had me by the balls! Then he ordered me to climb into the passenger seat of his truck and crouch on the floor while he drove us to the grocery store. There, he attached my leash to the back end of a shopping cart. Yes, I could easily have unsnapped myself, but he clearly intended me to push the cart while he selected groceries (not to mention massive amounts of alcoholic and soft drinks) for his party. Although I had already been a naked slave for several days, I was now surrounded, at close quarters, by fully dressed citizens, most of them women. To say I was intimidated was an understatement, but my nudity in the presence of all these women, at least some of whom were quite attractive, also gave me a hard-on stronger than iron!