tagLesbian SexLabor Day Lesbian Rapture Ch. 02

Labor Day Lesbian Rapture Ch. 02


(This story is not for minors or anyone offended by descriptions of sexual exploration between adventurous women. Feedback always welcome -- I love to hear from readers, esp. dommes! This is a continuation of Lesbian Labor Day Rapture)

I lay quietly on the bed and my breathing grew regular again and I was conscious of an incredibly warm glow all over the back of my body. Heather must have given me three dozen blows, but to tell the truth I lost count. I remember that sometimes the lashes would come quickly in a volley, furiously from one buttock to the other, and then that she would tantalizingly trail the tendrils along my spine before coming down with a fiercely harsh stroke that made me quiver and scream into my gag uncontrollably.

As I write this I want to assure readers that I am NOT ‘in the lifestyle': this was my first and only taste of hard submission. But it's still so fresh in my mind and I'm tempted to of risk something like this again, and I suppose that if either Heather or Gwen called me I would leap at the opportunity. But frankly I've been afraid to return to Loveladies, afraid to stoke my desires beyond what's healthy, afraid of really going over the edge. And yet.... I just hope you readers understand that I am not advocating doing any of the things I did.

Anyway, I lay face down on the soft bed in a delicious sort of stupor, waiting. I was still stretched taut and my nipples were being pinched under my leather bra by the plastic clamps every time I moved and my pussy was seeping and yearning to be filled. At least 30 minutes passed and I was growing tremendously frustrated. I had visions of prostrating myself to Heather, of gently licking along her thighs and pulling apart the sides of her crotchless thong to tease her lovely cunt in gratitude. Where was she? Why was she denying me the pleasure of serving her more fully? She was at least 10 years younger than I and the idea of her youth turned me on even more. But then again, everything that weekend did!

I was aware of the flickering candlelight and it soothed me as I wondered what more would be in store for me, wondered about Gwen – where was she?

Eventually the door opened and I heard Gwen's sultry voice. She approached as I held my breath and kept my eyes shut fearing to displease her.

"Let's see how well you've warmed up the little slut for me," she remarked to Heather.

Gwen sat on the bed and stroked my hair and I opened my eyes.

"Mmmmm," she went on, "my little Susie's nice and red," and she ran her fingers along my back.

"Thank you, Heather." I could hear the two of them kiss as their lips met above and across my body, a long lingering wet kiss.

"You ought to be very grateful to my pet, slut," she said to me. "Are you?"

"Yes, Mistress," I whispered.

Her firm hand lifted my head back and upwards.

"Louder, please," she commanded.

"Yes, Mistress!"

"Now, let's get real," she said ominously. "Heather, darling, stand her up for me."

Heather swiftly removed the scarves from the bedposts and yanked me up by my beautiful red hair. She left the scarves attached to my wrists and ankles, however.

When I rose and caught sight of Gwen I gasped: she looked absolutely stunning in a fierce magnificent sort of way. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face and hung in a long braid. She wore a sort of elegant leather "bra" that exposed her luscious full breasts and their large dark nipples completely. She also wore the same kind of crotchless leather thong that Heather wore, so I could see her pink lovely pussy lips peeping through. Stiletto-heeled black boots that rose just over her ankles completed this awesome vision. I trembled with anticipation as she stood behind me.

Gwen ran her hands along my flanks and I sighed, and then before I knew it she had deftly removed the nipple clamps from under my leather bra. As the blood rushed into my nipples I caught my breath and leaned forward from the sudden pain, but Gwen quickly held my head back. She kissed the nape of my neck and licked my ear so delicately and slowly I thought I would melt. I wanted to turn and kiss her, I wanted to drop to my knees and beg for her to use me as she saw fit, I wanted to lick her boots – I would do anything to please her, this utter stranger…..What had happened to me?

She folded my arms behind my back so that my hands were as close to my elbows as possible. This made my breasts jut out as my shoulders were pulled towards my spine. She fastened my hands and forearms very tightly with the trailing scarves and turned me over to Heather.

"Heather, dear, please give our slut the tour."

Heather guided me – by the hair, as usual – over to a set of louvered doors along the far wall opposite the bed. She opened them and I stepped back in surprise: arranged on the shelf inside the closet were a variety of implements – instruments of torture. I hesitated, fear surging into my breast as my eyes played on the crops, paddles, whips, cuffs, clamps, dildoes… I didn't know real people actually had such things.

Heather's grip on my hair tightened as she lowered my head towards a particular flogger, black and with very long spaghetti-like strands knotted on their ends.

"Pick it up, slut, now! And get on your knees!" commanded Gwen. I opened my mouth and took the handle of the whip in my tender mouth, clasping it with my teeth, and swiftly knelt.

"Take that fucking useless bra off her too!" said Gwen. Heather complied and tossed it across the room.

"Now, slut, I want you to crawl over to me, quickly." Gwen was standing in front of one of the small sofas, not far from the windows. I knelt before her looking up at her magnificent strong sexy legs and lovely beckoning breasts.

"On your back – hurry!" she urged. I let myself down to my side, awkwardly since my hands were bound behind me, but the whip fell from my mouth.

"Pick it up, slut, and try again," she continued impatiently. I bent over and took it into my mouth once more and slowly rolled on my side and then onto my back. I was now staring up at Gwen's pussy as she stood over me, legs apart, back to the sofa.

The way my hands were tied and positioned behind me caused my back to arch naturally upwards. Heather began to wind the scarves around my ankles – very tightly, as was her wont. She pushed my bound feet as close to my ass as possible, roughly, and then with another scarf she linked my bound arms to my bound ankles and pulled tight, as tight as she could, before knotting it securely. The effect was that my heels nearly reached my buttocks. I cried out as she grasped my ankles and slid me over the carpet a bit further towards her.

Then Heather leapt up like a cat and returned with a set of long cords. She wound the cords around the crooks of my knees and anchored the other ends to the feet of the sofa behind me. This made it impossible for me to pull my legs together. I was splayed open and now she unbuckled my leather thong so that my newly shaven smooth pussy was completely exposed and vulnerable. The thong itself was wet from my excitement.

Heather prevented me from squirming backwards to slacken the cords by maintaining her hold on my ankles.

Even though I was truly afraid, I couldn't help but appreciate the artistry of my tormentors. With a few scarves and cords they had lain me open like an immobilized prey. They went about their motions deliberately, without rushing, and this gave rise to a mixture of increased fear and anticipatory excitement.

Gwen removed the whip from my drooling mouth.

"Are you afraid, slut?" she inquired.

"A little, Mistress," I lied – in fact, I was afraid a lot.

"Just a little?" Gwen lashed the inside of my unprotected right thigh and I yelped, "Oh my god, oh my god, it hurts, oh my, it hurts!"

"Just a little?" she asked again, before stroking my left thigh fiercely.

I screamed and tried to squirm but Heather held me in place.

"Please, Mistress," I said, panting.

"Please what?"

"Please, Mistres…. It hurts….." said I, wincing still.

"Isn't that what you're here for? Isn't that what turns you on, slut? Isn't that why you walked into my bar, bitch?" said Gwen coldly and softly.

I gave in and nodded.

"You're here to please me, aren't you?"

I nodded again.

"To do anything I ask, correct? Isn't that what you agreed to?" she continued.

"Yes, Mistress."

The artful whip came down across my exposed and tender cunt. I moaned as the pain climaxed, and then a warm new glow spread from my loins to my neck.

Then Gwen went to work in earnest.

She brought the whip across my breasts, my stomach, my thighs, my pussy, relentlessly. I screamed and squealed and quivered and winced. Heather spat on my cunt and the whip seared it and it was all becoming too too much and I thought I would literally faint -- but then it all suddenly stopped.

I was heaving and sweating, tremendously relieved but still somehow wanting to please, wanting more, wanting to give more. I fought back tears, but I didn't want my Mistresses them to stop punishing me like the fucking deserving submissive girly whore that I was.

Gwen returned to her post alongside me with two lit candles. I knew what was coming and my resolve to bear more torture melted away.

"Please, Mistress ... don't, I can't take it," I begged.

Gwen knelt beside me and kissed my lips.

"Do you know what a ‘safe' word is?" she whispered.

I shook my head. "Well," she continued, " it's a word a slave like you can use to keep things from getting too rough….. But there's one little problem."

My heart sank.

"You don't have one."

The next thing I knew a stream of hot wax seared my left breast. It was nearly unbearable – my body arched upwards and twisted and a scream escaped my lips -- but I found I could take it, I discovered that I had the ability to withstand it and then more: to be excited by it. I confess: it was turning me on. I wanted more. And more I got.

Gwen took her time and brought the candles closer to my flesh thereby increasing the intensity of the heat and pain, and she left trails of wax all over my breasts, my nipples, my stomach, my splayed thighs. She did this all slowly and deliberately, maximizing my fear and the shock and electric lust. I was crying out and shaking and panting in lust and in fear.

"Do you want me to stop, Susie," she asked.

I shook my head. No, I wanted to please Mistress, to please myself in pleasing her. I caught my breath and licked my lips, determined to bear all she would offer.

The searing wax splashed across my pink labia. I pursed my lips in an "O" but didn't let out a sound. My cunt gushed. She covered my pussy with molten wax as I writhed and flinched. Heather held my legs firmly and the cords from the sofa kept them from instinctively moving inward for protection.

Gwen then kissed me, long and deep.

"Are you my good little slut?" she cooed.

I was sweating and breathing rapidly.

"Yes, Mistress," I managed to mutter, "I love what you do to me, Mistress, I love how you make me feel, I'll do whatever you wish, I'm your slut, your total fucking slut." I was babbling deliriously and gulping for air.

"And do you know what your Mistress would like from you right now?" she asked seductively.

"No, Mistress, please tell me."

"Your Mistress would like to see you cleaned up." She paused. "Heather, would you mind?" she continued, handing her the flogger.

"Not at all," Heather replied, smiling mischievously. Knowing how well I had pleased Gwen made me believe that Heather was becoming jealous.

She rose to her feet and had me kiss the handle of the whip before she commenced. I didn't have the strength to protest. I didn't have the desire either. Strangely enough I had grown so crazed with desire I yearned for more pain from either beautiful young sadistic bitches.

Heather was cruel and merciless as she scattered the dried wax with her blows. From time to time she cast a glance at Gwen who caressed the arches of my feet with her fingers as she held me.

I had entered a new world, a world where the distinction between pain and pleasure became meaningless, where only intensity, gratitude and excitement mattered. With every vengeful blow of Heather's whip across my breasts or thighs or pussy I knew I was giving Gwen pleasure. I knew I was becoming special. I moaned and writhed in ecstasy.

"Harder, Mistress!" I shouted. "More, more! Punish me, you bitch!"

Heather deviously complied, directing a series of sharp relentless blows across my cunt.

"You fucking slut!" she shouted, whipping me. "Take that, you bitch!"

"Fuck yes, harder, fucking whip me you fucking bitch!" I was in a frenzy and in a flash I found myself cumming, screaming wildly with release.

Heather lost no time in slapping my mouth viciously, admonishing me: "Keep quiet, bitch, what do you think you're doing?" I was still in spasms from my orgasm as she disciplined me.

"Oh dear," frowned Gwen as she tested my cunt with her finger, coating it with my cum and inserting it into her mouth, "Heather made you cum without my permission...." She hesitated, and cast a disapproving glance at Heather. "What a pity. She should know better than that."

Gwen glowered at Heather and forced her to her knees as she attached a leash to her collar and roughly cuffed her hands behind her back. Heather seemed dazed as she was led to the door. The leash was wound around the doorknob to anchor the supplicant.

"Now you can watch, bitch," said Gwen to her pet.

Gwen then turned and released me from my bonds and led me gently to the bed where she cradled me and covered my burning body with kisses, so tenderly. I ravished her breasts and ferociously licked her aromatic cunt until she came thunderously over my face, crying and screaming as she pressed her pussy against my lips in a maelstrom of ecstasy. I glanced at Heather who was turning bright red as she watched enviously.

Eventually she rose and led her downcast pet away and out of the room before returning to me, her slut, her bitch, her new-found cunt. I gratefully shared this magnificent creature's bed for the entire night.

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