The Bag Lady and the Domme Ch. 01

She squirmed as she sat in front of me. More juice seemed to seep from her slit. I rubbed harder. She emitted a tiny moan.

"What did you find out?" I asked, ignoring the sign of pleasure.

"It took me hours to get to sleep. I kept one eye open, afraid of being raped or attacked. Maggie had no qualms. She just went off. Eventually I too slept. I was dozing for at least two hours when I dreamt that my face was being licked and my legs opened for a doctor to investigate my womb. I could not wake up, but neither could I stop the dream. My cunt felt aroused, hungry. Then I slowly struggled to wake up only to find that Maggie, with her unclean mouth and hands was kissing me and had her fingers up my skirt, diddling my clitoris. I didn't want to but I could not resist. She had taken me so close to orgasm that I let this filthy creature arouse me. Worse, when she pulled my hand to delve under her tatty dress, I did it. I felt her stinking cunt, its clitty large and hard, and rubbed her to mutual orgasm. For all the degradation and perversion of the situation, I had a wonderful orgasm! Worse still, I allowed her to continue to kiss me and delve around my mouth with her dirty tongue. I was accepting so rapidly my complete demoralisation and humiliation. Yet, as the consummate journalist, I argued somewhere in my brain that this was necessary if I was to be effective undercover."

"Your cunt is very wet. You seem to like being degraded, slut"

I was mocking in my tone. I watched her head go down, but she was making subtle movements towards my foot that was now hard against her cunny.

"I made the right choice," she said proudly. "Maggie looked after me. Her husband had thrown her out because he had caught her fucking her maid, a Hungarian student and lesbian. She had never done it before, but loved it, and he had come in early from work. It was his pride that was hurt and his predictable way to deal with it was like a football thug. He needed someone to punch and Maggie was the one. She vowed never to go back."

She was finding it more and more difficult to talk. My toe was focused on arousing her clitoris. Then I stopped, leaving her unfulfilled. I heard the briefest of sounds, as if she was going to plead, and then she sat silently again though let out a quiet sigh.

"Carry on, slut!" I said sternly.

"After that degrading but raw sex with Maggie, I helped her to clean up a bit, especially her teeth and down below."

"Why so coy all of a sudden? You mean her cunt." And I spat it out with venom. I felt irrationally jealous of a dirty bag lady having sex with my friend and yes, subbie, Clarissa.

I watched her head go down and there was a flinch, as if expecting me to hit her. I laughed, nervously. I had corrected her and she had reacted like it was a reflex action.

"Yes, Mistress, her cunt," she repeated softly. I don't know where it was coming from, but I felt suddenly very powerful and very sadistic. Hell we had only met again after so many years and with her in a bad state, yet all I wanted to do was dominate her? Too right!

"Say it again, slut, but loud. Spit it out!"

She lifted her head. There was a sudden haughtiness about her. She looked me straight in the eye and said, "Her CUNT, Mistress", loudly and clearly.

"Good darling. Now come lie by me and tell me more," I ordered sweetly, patting the mattress at my side.

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It was morning of the second day by the time we finished. Clarissa had long moments of tears, then periods of quiet, then more of intense passion, pleasuring me at my whim. I was so in control, using her I knew for my pleasure and administering to her what she needed: pain and submission, but especially to serve me totally. I kept her on the edge of orgasm but denied her the final 'petit mort'.

What I had heard from her made my head spin. I had known nothing like it. She was lucky to be alive! What did that idiot of an editor think he was doing? If had been her then I would have kicked his balls in like that footballer had just done in the World Cup. I was angry and I felt such relief that Clarissa was alive, and even more so, in my charge. What luck!

It was two days before a Bentley had driven up to the little group of tramps in the middle of the night. It stopped at their box, there was a shadowy group of two men and what looked like a woman, and the next thing they knew Maggie and Clarissa were injected with something. They stood to protest and then blacked out. They could remember nothing until they awoke in a cold dungeon, stripped and bound to two huge cart-like wheels. Maggie was upside-down, facing Clarissa. Her legs were open and a young, naked and very petite Asian woman was shaving her cunt and anal hair. When finished, she kissed the prominent folds of her sex, stepped back, bowed and thanked Maggie for the honour! Then she pressed a button on a control panel in her hand and turned Mags the right way up.

Clarissa had never seen Maggie so clean! There were pools of water beneath her. Someone had given her the dungeon equivalent of a bedbath. Clarissa had laughed weakly at that, because as soon as she said it, she then added, "And then they did something so cruel. Maggie had long, albeit unkempt, hair. A man wearing nothing but a black mask had entered. His cock was massive, excited and pulsing but caged in some strange leather contraption like a male chastity belt. I heard the clippers before I saw them. I feared for her. He walked up, grabbing her head in his hand and proceeded to run the electric blades right down the centre of her scalp. There was no choice now and I think Maggie knew because she just hung silently in the wheel and let him do it. There wasn't even a whimper from her. All I do know is that she kept looking across at me, her eyes pleading, once even smiling weakly at me, but she did not utter a sound."

So, her down-and-out friend had been shaven completely. I had to admit it turned me on to think of her body clean, hairless and naked. The naked but masked man thrilled me too, especially that his hard cock was controlled. Clarissa described what happened to Maggie so lovingly and perversely, and in so much detail; like she loved that woman and her once dirty body.

I had watched a sci-fi film once that had a woman on a starship and she had a shaven head. It had turned me on then and it did again hearing her talk.

Then they had started on Clarissa. She was gently and lovingly washed, using very expensive cleansing products she noticed. A man dressed in black leather from head to toe, including a face mask, inspected her hair. He told the one with the clippers to leave. There was no balding for Clarissa. However, he then placed his palm over her pubis and snapped his fingers for the 'girl' (she affirmed late that she was an adult, 20 years old) to come and shave her. He had whispered something to the person, caressing her firm little breasts, before walking away, leaving her nipples hard and aroused and her face radiant. She had started giggling. Clarissa thought she was Vietnamese. Then the girl proceeded to arrange her disposable razors, a bowl of warm water, a cloth, a brush and shaving soap at Clarissa's feet.

"Tut, tut. What a bushy and stinking cunt you have slave," she muttered in heavily accented English, as if to herself.

The girl had taken what seemed like hours over this simple task, shaving a little, washing off the soap, then testing first with her finger and then her tongue, then doing a little more, and so on. She had turned the chore into a pleasure, for both the victim and the perpetrator. Clarissa was taken to the brink of orgasm more than once through this ceremony of cleansing. However, she was left as abruptly as the girl had arrived with her cunt lips tingling and swollen, and her prominent clitoris aroused to a tortuously sex-hungry state. She would, she admitted, have done anything for that girl.

They had then left the two of them for what seemed like hours hanging naked in their hoops. Somehow they knew not to talk to each other.

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We had a little sleep after this story, which led to me having intensely erotic dreams. I ordered my husband to fuck Maggie and then to give his satiated penis to Clarissa to revive. She fucked his cock with her mouth like a slut, but I made him come out of her and spend all over my face and body. I wanted that spunk like some elixir. Then I ordered both women to lick the gluey mix, paying particular attention to my tits. My language was foul and I saw them all as my sluts, including Jonnie. However, I noticed that in this dream his cock was never anything less than rigid, a turgid and enormous manhood. In real life he was never small, always thick in girth, but in the dream he was massive in all dimensions.

I awoke to Clarissa licking gently at my slit. She seemed insatiable, intent on pleasuring me. Was this a desire for me or a conditioned behaviour after hours in the hands of the shadowy group she had been with? I grabbed her hair and pushed her away. Although I desperately wanted her to minister to my desires, there was a bigger need and that was to hear the full story.

She did not protest, just sat back on her buttocks and looked at me with doe-like eyes, waiting for whatever was my whim. She has been trained well, I thought. I smiled at her, delighting in seeing my cunt juices surrounding her mouth and dripping from her chin.

"Carry on."

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She pointed down at her cunt lips, their jewellery now shiny with her juice and the cleansings she had had in my company.

"It must have been the next day when the naked but hooded man arrived again. He had with him a Gladstone bag, like doctors used to carry. He knelt in front of me, inspecting my cunny, then called to the petite slave (as I found out later she was) to rotate me. Mistress, I was tired from trying to sleep on that wheel, having managed only a little doze. Maggie was still sleeping when this man arrived. Only my screams woke her."

"Your screams?" I asked, sitting on the bed, part concerned, partly aroused thinking of her pain.

"Yes Mistress, he took out a bottle of spirit of some type and handed it to the little Asian. She lovingly caressed my sex lips, applying the liquid on a lint cloth. Again, she treated it like a ceremony and I guess it was. I looked up from my upside-down vantage point to see that with her other hand she was caressing the man's enormous penis. Mistress, I had not realised how big he was but now he was free of his cock cage. It distracted me looking at that huge pulsing member and the heavy hairless balls beneath from what happened next."

"Yes?"

"He took an instrument of some type from his bag. It was like a pair of stainless steel pliers but had a hole on one side and a large spike on the other. He had been playing with my labia, stretching and stroking them, making me fill with pleasure and plumping the lips. Then he struck, opening the jaws wide then lifting them up and closing them around my cunt lips. I screamed louder than I have ever done. The pain was immense, as the spike went through my tender flesh and threaded through the hole on the other side of the pliers. It was over in a flash. Another instrument inserted one of those labial rings that I am now wearing. The pain spread then changed, its heat permeating through me to become pleasure."

"Pleasure?"

"Yes, pleasure Mistress. In spite of all the pain I now had the ministrations of the petite one. She was stroking me again, lovingly applying a soothing balm to the affected area. Once done, she stopped, and he began again. Another sharp pain, another ring inserted, another loving ministration. And so it went on until the six rings you see were inserted and I had experienced such pleasure and pain. I was then pleasured by both of them, with the petite girl (later to be known as Slave One) at my mouth and breasts, and the masked man (Man Slave One) licking my aching cunt and clitoris until I forgot the pain of the jewellery. I came Mistress! The pain was no longer there, just sheer pleasure. However, I was sore for several days and Slave One visited during each day, or what I assumed to be so, on the hour to add healing balm."

"But what about Maggie?" I asked, losing interest in her finished state.

"I was rotated back the other way. I could see liquid glistening from Maggie's cunt. She looked strangely content, probably because she had slept longer than she would ever have been able to in cardboard city. No words passed between us, just unspoken support and love. So long as we were together..."

Clarissa began to weep. I realised that I cared, but did not want her to know it. I wished to be seen as in control.

"Stop those tears at once!" I snapped, "Tell me the tale and then we can decide whether it merits a tear. Come hug me tight and carry on."

Tight? It was fearsome. She was clearly scared of these people, but she was in my protection now.

"Man Slave One left me, his mouth covered in my juice and a little blood. He walked up to Maggie, his cock still pulsing and hard with little drips of semen clearly visible and running down its engorged purple head. He called for Slave One who turned the wheel, but this time only so his cock could be in line with Maggie's face. It was as if Slave One knew what she had to do, perhaps they had done this to many of their victims, I don't know. She had with her a wire device that fitted around their victim's mouth, opening the jaw wide, like the dentists use. Maggie could do nothing, her teeth could not close. Then Man Slave put his huge dick straight down her throat. I heard her gagging, close to throwing up, but he snapped instructions to her. He kept saying, 'Swallow slut!. Swallow you useless piece of street garbage.' And he kept thrusting in and out of her mouth to a steady rhythm until he came with the loudest moan of pleasure, leaving Maggie choking, unable to spit, her mouth and cheeks spilling with his cum. Again, he shouted at her to swallow. The jaw splitter was covered in his gooey seed. I looked at the sweating, firm buttocks of the man; so muscular as they eased their pumping. I felt strangely jealous to not taste his cum. I felt the degradation and yet the pleasure, almost honour to give to a man who later I was to find was of no higher status than me. He was just a male slut given permission by his owners to have his pleasure."

Now I was wet and aching between my thighs. I wanted to be Maggie! I wanted to have cum pouring down my throat and to be mouth-fucked. Me, the lady of the park! The posh London woman, with all her riches wanted to be the slut for a day. I laughed to myself, but a part of me craved degradation just as another loved the power and control of domination.

"You can caress my pussy as you talk," I said in as matter-of-fact a tone as I could muster. Clarissa's fingers slid sensuously over my engorged labia, carefully avoiding my clitty that stood proud outside its little hood.

"He had that bag with him again. I felt a shudder and the dulling pain in my slit reminded me of my own situation only hours before. Yet Mistress, now I yearned for the pain, I wanted it and wanted the attention of this man; the only person I'd seen other than Slave One and the fully leather clad man who never came back. They had a method to control and take us over. It was patient, stealthy, and mixed sexual favour with degradation and loss of choice."

"Yes, yes, yes," I snapped impatiently, "Get on with the story. What did he do to her?" I was getting vicarious satisfaction from their misery.

"Sorry Mistress," she said quietly, her head down, but her fingers never giving up on their travels up and down and around my achingly swollen labia and clitoris. I was challenging myself to hold back, to forego the orgasm, to stop myself ordering her to lick me or rub directly on my clit. "He took another set of tongs from his bag, this time with a hole where the pincers' spike would have been. Then, he took a large canola-like device out that Slave One cleaned carefully with that spirit she used on me. He seized Maggie's left tit in his hand, pushing up the nipple until it was hard, and pinched it between the pincers. He kissed the nipple, and told Slave One to play with his captor's clitoris. I could see Maggie half smile, then grimace, unsure what was to happen. I watched as he kept squeezing her tit while Maggie began to throw her head back as the pleasure built overcoming the cruel pain in her breast. She started to moan aloud. That was when he struck. He skewered the sharpened canola through her nipple just at the point she hit her peak of orgasm. She tried to scream her pain and her pleasure, the two mixing in confused delight, but he had left the jaw splitter on. It made her sounds hollow, somehow incomplete. Then she calmed, missing the actions he had taken in the meantime. That is, a large gold bar had been threaded into the hole he had made and more spirit was applied, together with some other cream that I was later to find acted like an anaesthetic. I guess it is what must have happened when the Prince had my titty rings inserted, though that had been done when I was carefully drugged. He was such a caring man."

I was beginning to moan, struggling to keep my control more and more. As she mentioned the Prince, so she caressed more ardently.

"Continue," I said, almost as a plea, rather than an order.

"He took off the jaw splitter, I think realising his mistake of having left it on, and kissed her hard on the mouth, seeming to savour tasting his own cum. He dropped all pretence of ceremony with the other side, grabbing her hard, using the pincers and skewering in less than 2 seconds. The bar was in within another couple and it was all over in less than ten; with the cleansing and cream too. She screamed with the pain, free now to let her feelings out. I saw real tears in her eyes, real pain. It seemed to excite Man Slave One even more. I saw his cock harden again, pushing up against his belly in its massive tumultuous state. Then he had her turned to the upright position. I remembered how my nipple rings had hurt me for days when the Prince had insisted I be adorned with them, so I could not believe what Man Slave commanded her to do. He, he said, 'thank me.' Even my Prince did not expect that of me just my obedience. But Man Slave One was insistent that she appreciate him, yet he was so gentle, so respectful of her, even though it could be seen as rebuking her for not showing immediate gratitude. You know, she did! She thanked him profusely as if he had released some deep psychological demon in her at that moment of pleasure and pain. Later I would know this to be true, but then it was just an instinct, another moment where I knew more than I had ever known in my life before and I felt good. For all the weirdness, the degradation, the abduction, the complete loss of control I felt good. It was unlike anything I had known from my previous submissive life. I can't explain it, sorry."

I was panting, imagining Maggie tortured yet pleasured, controlled and yet thanking the controller. I thought of Clarissa watching, analysing, using that clever brain of hers in the most unusual setting, and I felt I wanted that experience. Maybe I was what in one women's porno book they had called a 'switch'? I was unsure, but I did know one thing, I wanted pleasure.

"Lick my clitty slut!"

And she did. She fell rapidly between my thighs, reaching her hands up to pleasure my breasts as her tongue worked wonders on my clitty, teasing and tasting, lashing it with little tongue strokes, giving me no choice but to pull her head hard between my legs and gush with my juice all over her face. If I could have pissed I am sure I would. I wanted to explode with pleasure. And I did. I screamed an orgasm in a way I had not done in years. Sex recently had been whispered encounters as if the children were still in the next door room. Now it was full on, noisy, unashamed.