The Bag Lady and the Domme Ch. 01

I lay back, sweating, happy in a way I could not have imagined. My head was full of perverted thoughts, wishing I could have seen the degradation, the adorning, the two slaves sexually used. One orgasm was not enough. I began to masturbate, rubbing my clitty hard in between my thumb and forefinger, not caring that Clarissa was watching. Besides, she was a slut.

"Watch me," I said, breathlessly. "Watch your Mistress wank herself."

Yes, I knew that term was used more by men, but somehow I wanted her to know that this was dirty, that I was willing to be as explicit as I could be. I felt the thrill of it all send shivers through me, revelled in seeing her dilated, hungry eyes watching me so intently, her tongue licking her lips like some porno star in those cheap productions, and her hand caressing her own cunt. I noted that for later. She would be punished, playfully of course, for not seeking permission. I smiled, loving the control I had at this moment yet where any second I was paradoxically going to go out of control.

And I did. The orgasm hit me like my own Tsunami. I was shocked by its speed and intensity. And as I came, so did she; noisily. It was as if she had been trained to proclaim her pleasure. I was reclaiming mine. I cried. Happy tears streamed down my face. Clarissa slid across me; her naked breasts pressed to mine and bent her head to lick the tears away. No words, just loving, sensual gestures.

Then the thought came to me.

"Clarissa," I struggled to get my words out, the orgasm still sapping my strength as its ripples died, "How is it that you fear these people when all you have told me so far suggests that these actions were done to prepare you for your submissive life? No extreme cruelty had been meted out, bar perhaps the enforce cock sucking?"

She was silent a while, then she spoke.

"Oh, Mistress! We were kept on the wheels for ten days (or so my new keeper told me later), only being let off three times a day for meals and supervised showers and toilet. We did not speak, afraid if it was not permissible. Maggie and I learned to reassure and tell each other things with nods, eye movements and other expressions. It was strangely peaceful and comforting despite the things they had done and would still do to us during that time. We learned to sleep in the upright position, leaning against our shackles that were of the softest leather by day three and well-padded. When let down everywhere we went the Man Slave One and Slave One carried fearsome whips, but never used them. They spoke little to us, though caressed and fondled us at will. Apart from taking their sexual pleasure, we were treated well, even when a new bar was inserted through my clitoral area and Maggie was given at least a dozen rings along her prominent labia. This was on about the fourth day. When hers were done, they removed her nipple bars, replacing them with large gold rings, much larger than these." She pulled at her own fine set of nipple rings. I noticed how instantly her teats engorged, sticking hard and long from her tits. "A fine gold chain that split into a 'Y' shape was padlocked with the tiniest of locks to each ring, then the trailing end was threaded through the labial rings, lacing her cunt shut (though loosely so she could still pee) and locked to the last set of rings with a large padlock. She could walk, but always with her legs open, and she could piss or if needs be have her periods but she would have to wash regularly if they did not unlock her for her ablutions. There was no room for a pad or tampon, unless unlocked."

"Mmmm," I said, revealing how sexy I found the idea of Maggie always open yet also sealed and shackled. Plus, I was getting more perverted in my desires. Yes, I liked the idea she was potentially humiliated by not having control over her periods and hygiene. "Ingenious."

"Once, back on the wheel, I could not wait for the next ablutions. I had tried to hold back for what seemed to be hours, calling for Slave One or Man Slave to release me and take me to the large bathroom that they used for our breaks. Both were in the room, playing a game of chess at a table in front of us both, but neither seemed to respond. However, when I could hold my bladder no more, I let out a little dribble that dripped between my spread-eagled thighs. Slave One rushed from her board, knelt and lapped the hot wet piss from my cunt. I could not stop then, I let the waters gush. She seemed to be trying to take as much into her mouth as possible. Soon, Man Slave was there too, encouraging her. He was rubbing his cock hard against her head, pushing her against me as she drank. When I could do no more, he held her against my crotch, where she continued to lick at me. I had the clitoral bar in by this time, and although still a little sore, she aroused me to a point of pleasure I had never experienced before as Man Slave rubbed himself in rhythm against her short cropped hair. His hands were at my breasts, fondling me cruelly yet so sexily. She had her hands around my buttocks, her index finger seeking my little rose bud. Soon she was inside me, the anus opening for her with absolute willingness and pleasure. His hands toyed and aroused me so expertly. Her tongue was hard on my clitoris that seemed so much more sensitive and large now I had the clitoral bar. I forgot my humiliation of pissing. This was so beautiful now, not like in that bastard Klaus's office. I liked the smells of piss mingling with my cunt juice and her own sweet aroma that wafted up to me. I was aroused no end and when Man Slave came on her head, splashing my belly with his hot cum I went over the edge with a sudden and multiple orgasm. I could not stop myself, going from one spasm to another, over and over and over. It seemed ages before I hung limply between the shackles, exhausted, satiated. She was on all fours below me, licking from the wheel and floor every last drop of my piss. He sat back at the games table, clearly exhausted, idly playing with his cock which was showing signs of revival so quickly."

"He was going hard already? My Jonathan does it once and then is tired for hours." I shut up, having said too much about my dissatisfying love life. Pah! What love life? The most recent time was a quick shag and only because he had had a slot between a meeting in The Hyde Park Obelisk Hotel and the offices they called the Gherkin. Very apt I thought at the time, two phallic places and one slot. It had been enough to make me surprisingly horny. My control had been slipping lately, though nowhere near as bad as now. I let my fingers stroke openly at my wet and sensitive pussy lips. It felt so good.

"Oh, Mistress, Man Slave One had been snatched by The Group (as I learned the club was called) from a porn shoot in the Czech Republic. He was trained in a castle outside Prague that was owned by members of the club. He can become erect at will, never being flaccid until at least ten women, or men for that matter, have been 'serviced' by him. He is insatiable and we were used to keep him at his peek during the training of a large batch of recruits, or press-ganged people really. The Group preferred to break people in, it amused them. No, it did more; it enabled them to bet on when we would break, how long it would take and what methods would break us. Or, in rare cases, whether we would break at all. Huge sums of money changed hands at these betting sessions and every new recruit was watched night and day by cameras concealed around the rooms. No action, including our ablutions, was missed and the fibre optics used was placed in multiple locations, pointing at, above and below us. I was to learn that every detail of my conversion to full submission was kept, edited and distributed to the members. There is in circulation a complete record of my modification to the ways of The Group. I had no way out. These recordings were cleverly edited so that no one could tell I was not a willing party in my degradation. Every utterance of pleasure, I was to learn later, was inserted to make me look willing, with Slave One and others adding extra commentary and footage 'after the fact'. That was on the tape that would be given publicly to anyone whom I reported the group to, should I be stupid enough to do so. Another, recording every sick, perverted and degrading event was for members' eyes only. There would be many tapes like that of Maggie and me."

Now I was even more intrigued. "So what other things happened then?"

My fingers began to ease open my pussy lips, my right index finger found my clitty, hard again. What a perverted bitch I was becoming and so turned on by these tales of The Group. I envied her experiences, however sick, degrading or perverted. I felt my nipples harden and watched that familiar dilation in Clarissa's eyes.

"Tell me in a while, but for now, I want you to take control of me."

Her tongue snaked over my nipples, hardening them to aching stiff buds. He fingers seized my tits, and I felt the joy of descending into hard, raw sex. I heard my words as if coming from another person.

"Top me from the bottom. Take me as if I was your submissive, your slut. Show me what they did to you."

I felt the hard bites on my nipples and the bruising fingers that clawed at my breasts. I had turned on a switch in her brain. There was a deep cruelty in her. Then she turned me over so quickly as if I was but a feather, showing such strength that I did not know she possessed. My hips were lifted and my bare arse made ready. I knew what was coming and I wanted it, wanted the heavy spanking that I'm sure would be the start of many more humiliations and punishments.

She started with sensual, light slaps to each buttock, but her hands continued to grasp and pull at my teats as cruelly as before. I felt sensuality and pain as she knelt at my left side. I turned my head to watch her body, admiring her firm adorned breasts, the large rings swinging seductively, the slightly open thighs framing her heavily bejewelled cunt lips that shone with her juice. I felt the strokes get harder, the slaps firmer, her caresses shift and change from hard to soft, palpitating and pinching, and then she raised her arm high. My cunt was turning to liquid; my tits were on fire with pleasure and pain, my buttocks warmed and ready. I saw it coming, the raising high of her hand, and the sudden cruelty in her face that wiped away the pure love that I had previously witnessed. When it came, I screamed into the pillow as the blows rained down. At least twenty vicious strokes left me at once crying into the pillow and yet seeking the heat of pleasure that flooded out from the searing heat in my arse, then caressed and consumed me between my thighs and up and over my belly and breasts. Then the lighter blows resumed, followed by feather light touches between my thighs, then hard squeezes of my apple red arse cheeks, followed my more light touches over my sex lips and teats.

More blows followed, hard and fast. And the greatest surprise. In the midst of the pain and the torment, I received one of the lightest touches to my clitoris that by now stood like a miniature cock outside its sheath. I came, not once but many times. The screams into the pillow were of pleasure and I craved the pain that continued as I moaned like the whore and slut that I was.

"There Mistress," she whispered in my ear, her hands caressing and tormenting my reddened and stinging arse cheeks, "You have been a really disgusting little slut today and you deserved that spanking making me tell you about my awful experiences. Would you like to know more?" She asked, her finger dipping lasciviously into my dripping cunt. "Or would you like to experience what it really means to be a slut and my slave?"

She slid off me. I saw her walk naked to my bedside cabinet. She picked up my favourite hair brush, but I knew it would not be used to tidy my tousled head.

"Show me how to be a slave," I answered hoarsely.

"Bend over that chair at the dressing table."

There was nothing pleasant in her tone now. I saw fire in her eyes, yet I wanted this above all else. Yes, the story could continue later, much later. For now I was her slave, at least for a while.