Lesbian Slave Island Ch. 17

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I am now the only naked sex slave for five women.
4.2k words
4.66
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Part 17 of the 18 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 03/25/2010
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I'll start this chapter with an overview of what happened in the two to three weeks after Gabriella, Gloria and Stefania arrived. I hope you like it and that it provides you an outline to better enjoy and understand my incredible experience as the willing, eager, naked and total sex slave to these five women.

Toward the end of this chapter, I'll return to detailing delicious highlights of that exciting day I met Gloria and Stefania, and Gabriella joined the fun.

_______

We remained near the villa for the first few weeks of my fantasy-come-true. And what a fantasy, what a situation: five free females, and I their only sex slave.

They wore clothes as they liked, ate and drank whenever they liked, and did whatever they liked, especial with me, their nude plaything.

Though I was their slave property, I was not a passive participant. I wanted all this. I too initiated situations and activities. I worked with my owners and mistresses to come up with ideas. I talked with each to learn what turned them on, and vice versa. This was my fantasy originally, after all.

They were the ones in charge, however. They were free, while I, in contrast, was the only one always naked, always aroused, always wet. I was the only one who had to obey. I was the only one erotically humiliated, whipped, pinched, whimpering, crawling, bowing, tied and eating from bowls on the floor. I was the only one who was an utterly owned sex slave.

Yes, they could do what they wanted, and I the slave had to obey. However, taking the larger view, I was doing what I wanted too - I had clearly and firmly set all this in motion. I was living my dream.

Yes, I more than loved being the only naked (and usually bound) plaything of these five women!

I was in ecstasy.

And agony. It wasn't easy.

I desperately craved orgasms. They continually brought me close, but not over. It's called "edging." Sometimes I cried when being denied after a long buildup, my hips writhing and thrusting in longing. Some of them loved to have long sessions in which they repeatedly brought me close to orgasm and suddenly stopped, over and over and over again. It was a thrill for them to watch me gyrate vainly, moan and beg in desperation, and see my loins and thighs coated in sex juices. They confessed to enjoying this method of power tripping. Yes, I had influence and was a co-creator, but they had the true control.

They loved seeing my various emotions, including crying. Edging me was only one way to induce my emotions, but a favorite way. My emotions were an entertaining drama show, and one of the ways they proved they really did own me, a concept that aroused us all - me the most.

This orgasm denial also kept me the way they wanted me: in a state of constant lust-crazed heat. I couldn't help but be aroused by the erotic humiliation of my loins constantly exposed,

especially when dripping sex juice. They all knew and loved that I was aroused by the humiliation of streams of sex juice on my thighs. That was exciting proof that their lesbian total sex slave was super-charged to serve and entertain.

I WANTED them to keep me sex-crazy. It was difficult, but such frequent near-orgasm ensured I would deliver on my promise to be a sex-obsessed slave, doing anything they wanted.

And of course it's wonderful to be aroused.

Another important effect of edging and orgasm denial was psychological: they were in control of my orgasms. I had to please them, obey, earn and beg for that rare orgasmic bliss. One the rare occasions I orgasmed, it was explosive.

Sometimes I had to exert all my concentration and discipline to AVOID orgasm. The effort to avoid orgasm without permission was challenging. In such an extreme and constantly heightened state of arousal, it didn't take much for me to orgasm - a light flick of a mistress' finger, the slightest movement of the dildo inside when I was in the top-of-stool bondage, or application of labia clips near my clitoris could trigger waves of sensations.

My owners and I dreamed of when I would orgasm without touch, simply from being in a mind-blowing submissive situation, such as extreme humiliation or a whipping session.

That touchless orgasm didn't happen in the first week.

What did happen over the next few days and weeks:

NUTRITION

I went through a diet adjustment.. slight headaches for three days, a kind of a withdrawal from sugar and other junk foods.

I was already into fitness and health and ate healthfully, but too often treated myself.

As the sex slave, a "treat" became foods like the inner tender celery stalk instead of the tougher outer stalks, or black beans with mild spices instead of plain. Fruit was by far the best treat, my dessert. That's as it should be anyway for all humans, Gabriela would often say.

Gabriela, the nutritionist, made certain I consumed diverse nutrients, even hand-feeding me a couple of supplements daily. These supplements were of the highest quality and designed for vegans. Gabriela also made sure I drank a lot of water, mostly out of bowls in the floor, of course.

I suppose I gained some nutrients too from all their sex juices!

Sometimes when I whimpered about food, they would help me get past my pangs by letting me drink lots of water, which had the extra benefit of making me pee a lot. It was excitingly humiliating to have to pee while any of them watched. Sometimes, usually when my pee was so diluted it was basically water, I'd be ordered to lap it up for added erotic humiliation.

Other times I begged or whined for food, they'd give me lots of raw celery, cabbage, carrots, broccoli and the like. Super healthful and filling, and gave me the satisfaction of chewing a lot.

Yet other times I would be ordered to suffer through my hunger pangs. Other times they'd order me to beg piteously, but then deny me. That was another way to prove to all of us that I was truly owned and utterly their slave property.

Exercise helped somehow to reduce feelings of hunger. Activities like crawling, serving as ponyslave, gardening, pony prancing practice and many other forms of exercise were ordered. I myself suggested exercises sometimes.

Sometimes I'd be hangry, but was usually successful in maintaining obedience. When I wasn't, my hangriness sometimes entertaining them, especially the harsher Sassa and Stefania. They would of course usually discipline me, sometimes painfully.

The combination so much exercise, chores and withdrawal from sugar made me quite meek. I endured times of wearily, weakly stumbling along, humbled and obedient.

Another way to push me past hunger: "chew toys." They would say "eat this, slave" and push a dildo into my mouth, or order me to suck and chew on a dildo glued to a wall or floor.

Anything I was fed tasted very good, even the raw tough vegetables. My taste buds adjusted to the pint could appreciate subtle flavors. I no longer craved sugar or animal fat. I found I didn't want even a taste of fatty sweets like ice cream, partially because they no longer held as much appeal.

Frequent hunger helped me appreciate any food, and these intermittent fasts slimmed me, calmed me (once I was used to them), help me think clearly. I even perfected my blood metrics (like cholesterol and glucose).

My owners and mistresses all enjoyed the food power they had over me. We all got off on my begging.

There were many times that my hunger created a sense of powerlessness and subservience. It made my slavery real... and that's what I had craved to experience in my fantasy.

Why am I so aroused when I am hand-fed or begging for a morsel? It's that incredible sex fantasy that powers up my libido. It's probably from an association in my mind-sex system from years ago. I don't yet understood fully why, but it's simply true, powerfully true.

I was already slim, but I became super lean, and muscled:

FITNESS

All the exertions required as the constant center of sexual attention of five women were fantastic for my physical fitness.

Quite quickly I became even more lean and fit. The progress was fast indeed because I was serving as a total sex slave 24/7. And I was the only slave for five, much physical exertion required.

While Gabriela oversaw my nutrition, it was Sassa in particular who took it upon herself to be my fitness "trainer," driving me hard.

For example, when I was their ponyslave pulling any of them in the cart, it was often Sassa who used the whip most unsparingly. She also did weight-training with me.. Sassa and I love deltoids...perhaps the sexiest part of the body, we feel, so we did many dumbbell flys.

In summary, I lost fat and I built muscle. I was not at all skinny, but became very very lean and muscular, in a feminine way.

SEX SLAVE TRAINING

It's not only training for the slave. Owners train too.

As the sex object, I have my ways of influencing, leading and training them too.

We work together, as a show horse and rider do.

Owners and mistresses need to grow in skills too. Topics include safety, health, fitness, designing delicious situations, psychology, emotions management, bondage gear use, maintenance and even design, and erotic discipline.

That first day I met Gloria and Stefania, they experienced "training" too. That evening they experienced their first bdsm slave whipping. It was the first time they'd seen (in person) anyone whipped, anyone wanting to be whipped, and whipping someone themselves.

Helen and Sassa had gained experience whipping me, and shared their insights with the newbies.

Stefania was wide-eyed and nervous at first, but soon loved torturing me. I was happy she enjoyed it, though after a while I nervously noticed she enjoyed it so much.

Gloria understood the erotic forces at play, and was clearly aroused. In contrast to Stefania's wilder energy, gloria's whipping style was paced, thoughtful and accurate.

Their first lashes were gentle, but with Helen's and especially Sassa's encouragement and coaching, the three new mistresses soon had me howling and quivering.

Helen, Sassa and I reassured them that this was an integral part of it all, and very sexy. When they heard even me say that, their misgivings vanished and they got into it. Mmmm yes! Sure, it was difficult for me at times, but it made me so wet...

RELATIONSHIPS

I was almost always with at least one of them, almost never alone. Imagine always being naked among your (usually) clothed owners, hand fed, adorned in collar amd leash or biting nipple clip, always sexually aroused and usually wet and dripping. Often made to kneel and lick their hands and feet, suck a dildo, respond with "yes, my owner" or "yes, mistress". Over time I molded into the mindset of being really owned, exactly what I wanted to experience.

Over time, two contradictory relationship trends developed. I became emotionally close to each of them. Simultaneously and paradoxically, our roles - they as owners and I as totally owned property - also deepened. I became less than equal - an owned animal and sex object. Situations are powerful.

And it was because of our roles - and all the sex - that we became emotionally close. I now had five different girlfriends, and with each personality, a different relationship. I'll get into the differences in later chapters.

Part of my status as owned property was mental and emotional. It's not only physical and sexual, especially when it's over such a long time period.

I had agreed in the contract I must share my thoughts and feelings. Especially during 1-1 times, as I had to open up my mind and heart, each owner and mistress could and did ask me anything. As I opened up, each of them felt comfortable opening themselves up too. Deep relationships indeed.

The owner-slave contracted situation made this wonderful (and otherwise unlikely) vulnerable sharing and emotional bonding possible.

BACK TO THE DETAILS OF THAT DAY:

You remember how I just wrote that sometimes I'm the influencer and leader? Well, going back to moments in the middle of that day Gloria and Stefania came into my life, I didn't do much influencing - it was I who was being "influenced:"

Gloria continued to "teach" me how to deep throat. I kept gagging and pouring saliva. My gag reflex is fairly sensitive.

Therefore Gloria began to be more patient. She would slowly push the dildo toward the back of my mouth and let me breathe, and she would count slowly to ten... or rather that's the number she worked toward. I would gag before ten, but after a while I worked up to eight that session.

I was grateful they were patient with me.

Sassa adored seeing and hearing me gag, cough and drool. She encouraged Gloria to push deeply and hold the dildo in. When Gloria pulled it out quickly, a surprisingly large quantity of saliva gushed out. Sassa bent down to smear my saliva all over my face.

"Gloria, I'll help you train her to be an expert dildo sucker" offered Sassa. "I hope it takes a long time to train her because I love it when she gags and can't control the drool!"

Gloria smiled at Sassa.

Nodding, Gloria agreed "it IS hot when the slave is drooling - soooo submissive."

Sassa's and Gloria's words aroused me. I loved that playing with me aroused THEM so much. That, of course, was very important!

Win-win situation.

Stefania's hand-held dildo's head touched my sopping vagina. I would have moaned but for the dildo pumping in and out of my mouth. Stefania slowly slid it a little deeper in...

Sassa cautioned Stefania to not let me orgasm. I did manage a soft wail of frustration when Stefania pulled it out and paused, stopping to listen to Sassa.

"Watch for her breath, her body tensing...

I was teased to near orgasm so many times I couldn't count... repeatedly gagging and salivating on the dildo working my mouth ... feeling hands on my derrière and fingers toying with my nipples...

Eventually Stefania and Gloria changed places... Stefania winked and grinned at me before she pressed the dildo sideways onto my lips, coating my lips with my very own sex juices.

I was in such heat... I wanted it so badly ... I flicked my tongue to taste my juices from the dildo ... I moaned "mmm" and began long licks.

Stefania was delighted and stroked my hair while saying "what a good and sexy slave."

I smiled at my young mistress, who grinned back, pulled the dildo away, and moved one finger toward my mouth. I eagerly leaned forward to hungrily suck it.

Stefania giggled at first, then lightly moaned.

Gabriela produced celery... Sassa broke off an outer stalk and said "the tougher outer stalks are for the slave, and we get the tender inner stalks."

She handed it to Gabriela who beamed with happiness as she began to feed me.

I bit off the end and began chewing.

Sassa added, "Chew it slowly and well, sex slave. You aren't getting so much food anymore and you need to digest every piece of nutrition."

I glanced at her, not entirely happy about that...

Sassa's smile seemed a bit like a smirk to me, and it was clear she was loving her dominance.

This actually aroused me. Humiliation. Fantasy made real. Sex slave.

As I chewed, Gabriela said Sassa's "advice" was good, especially because this outer stalk was more difficult to chew than the softer inner shoots.

I was also fed raw red cabbage.

It was symbolic of my slavery that my "treat" or reward would be to be fed the inner tender shoots of celery.

I have to say I found these filling. Lots of fiber.

As a treat, I was fed half an apple.

These hand feedings were often accompanied by hair stroking, breast fondling and if someone else was behind or beside me, back-caressing and derrière-petting. I moaned in pleasure.

Therefore the emotional bonds between us grew.

Of course, other times, such as later that day at supper, feeding times were much less tender. When I was made to serve supper as the only naked one, and had to eat and drink out of bowls on the floor without use of my hands while they sat dressed nicely and eating food that was cooked and tastier and smelled fantastic in contrast to me, naked on the floor eating raw vegetables, I felt differently.

But both ways aroused me.... my arousal just kept growing, either way.

A long, exquisite sopping wet lust-crazed day for me.

It was a long long time they enjoyed making me suck, lick, kiss and gag on the front dildo. They used the rear dildo expertly to bring me repeatedly to near-orgasm.

The anal hook tied to my hair kept my head up and my anus stimulated.

Hands caressed my back, hair and stimulated my breasts. They toyed with the nose and nipple rings.

Hands and fingers also scooped up my flowing sex juices and saliva. I was ordered to lick, suck and drink them... yes, literally drink because Gloria accumulated enough quantity of my sex juice and saliva in a "Lisa cocktail" to fill a small cup.

I was touched and aroused when Gloria took a sip herself and declared it tasty.

I panted and oozed more juices. I whimpered and moaned as I experienced near-orgasm after near-orgasm.

Eventually they gently pulled the hook out of my anus and helped me stand up. The hook's leather string remained tied to my hair, so the hook humiliatingly swung behind me.

I looked down to stretch my neck and was embarrassed but excited to see the rivulets of sex juice that had streamed from my sex spot down my thighs.

My face, especially my chin, remained covered in my saliva and sweat. No one cleaned me because Sassa declared she loved all this moisture on her slave.

Sassa and Helen then demonstrated how to tie my arms behind my back in the "reverse prayer" position.

This reverse prayer is particularly humiliating and bending of the arms. My hands and fingers pointed up behind my upper back. So helpless.

We took a walk and posed for pictures. I even smiled as if I were also clothed and free, instead of naked and wet with arms tightly and humiliatingly bound up behind.

Stefania particularly enjoyed the picture session, putting her arm around me, grinning and giving the V sign, pinching my nipple.

Later at supper they had a small container of Lisa cocktail as a flavor enhancer, but most of it was fed to me.

During supper the discussion turned to the evening and night plans.

Helen and Sassa explained that the three new mistresses must initiate and be initiated. The whipping ritual, prescribed and described in my own slave owner manual, was important. They and I must physically and emotionally learn the stark reality of their dominance and true ownership of me.

The whippings were long and hard, and after yelping, writhing, grimacing, whimpering, and some crying, I was released and my hands bound behind and without being ordered I crawled with whip marks all over to utterly submit to each, kissing and licking their feet and hands. I repeated out loud I was their totally owned and utter sex slave to fully enjoy, with no inhibitions.

Repeating that out loud to each of them made it all the more real.

The five discussed among themselves the plans for the night as I, their naked and bound and whipped slave property knelt nearby.

Next, I laid on a rug as Gabriela cleaned and rubbed healing ointments into my whip marks. The other four sat with wine glasses, eyes constantly glancing at my nudity as they talked.

Helen was the leader and my primary owner, so her decision on what next was followed: Helen would meet with each of the other four and me, in four half hour sessions, to prepare for the one-on-one times each would have with me.

But that would take place in the morning after everyone was rested.

Helen turned to Gabriela to delight her with the decision that tonight she could be alone with me, to use and enjoy as she pleased. Gabriela, Helen explained, as the oldest among us, and a wise healing person, would go first.

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