The First Steps in Being an Owned Slut Pt. 01

"Have you been a good girl Jenna?"

"Yes. Of course." I didnt know what he meant.

"Have you masturbated this week?"

"No. No. Yes." Flustered. A deep blush creeping up my neck. Not expecting this. Never having discussed this with anyone before.

"Did you or didn't you?"

Visions of me naked in bed with my hands clamped between my legs as I stifled screams, of me with my jeans and knickers around my thighs as I frigged desperately on the sofa, even of my softly grunting as I came in the toilets at work flashed before my eyes.

"Yes. Yes, I did."

"How many times?"

"I cant remember."

"Cant or wont? I don't believe you. Once, twice?"

"A few more." My voice only a whisper now.

"Every day?"

Nodding my head then remembering. "Yes."

"More than once a day?"

"Sometimes." I felt like sobbing with shame.

"Fingers? Vibe?"

"Fingers."

"I can hardly hear you. Do you normally finger yourself off that much?"

"No."

"Why then?"

"Do I have to?" My soft voice pleading. He simply stared at me. "I have felt really horny. It was the sex. Last week. Thinking about it. What you made me do. What I did."

"You are to ask in future. If you want to masturbate you must ask first. Do you understand?" I looked at him in surprise. Did he really expect me to ask to be able to finger myself? Surely not. Gradually the request/instruction became clear to my muddled brain.

"Ask? You want me to ask if I want to play with myself." Could he expect that? I nodded. I was accepting it. I just had accepted! Could I do it?

"Good girl." A glow inside me. "The blouse looks nice. Take it off." Off at another tangent, leaving me uncertain. The question of my masturbation dealt with by him, seemingly accepted by me. Yes it was. I would ask if he wanted. It didn't seem inappropriate or wrong to undo the buttons for him, perhaps bad and wicked but that wasn't too much a problem. I knew I was bad and wicked accepting Michael in control and me free to let go and enjoy. I wanted him to be in control of me, nothing expected of me other than compliance. It felt so calming and yet so exhilarating. I liked the feeling of being made to undress in front of him. It made me feel obedient, it heightened my excitement. I took off my blouse and under his direction folded it and laid it on the floor by my feet.

"Now the skirt." I unzipped it, the noise of the zip seemingly loud in the silent room, stepping out of it and folding it as with my blouse. I was only in bra and knickers and hold up stockings now. I had remembered not to wear tights. He was going to expose me again. He wanted to look at me. I wanted to give him what he wanted even though I stood trying to cover myself, not wanting him to fully know, not wanting to fully give in just yet.

It felt naughty and exciting and I found the submission quite arousing. As I stripped his eyes were always on me. It was totally different to normal, not the quick tussle whilst in his arms or before jumping into bed. No, this was much more clinical, performing as directed, watched, appraised. I didn't know what to do with my hands,

"Your underwear is sexier. Better than last time. When did you buy it?" Again his question took me by surprise. I reddened again. I looked up, and then fixed my eyes on the carpet again.

"Yesterday." Whispered. Guilty that he realised. "At lunchtime." I had been caught out. I wanted to look nice, sexy.

"You realised I would have you strip. Like this?" Amused. Twisting the knife in me.

"Yes. Yes."

"Now the rest."

Looking away from him in my shame, my exciting degradation increasing. I had been naked for him many times last weekend, but never like this, stripping to order. Never had I been exposed like this. I moved my hands down my legs taking my stockings off, then behind my back and undid my bra. Immediately, I felt my breasts released as I leaned forward and let the bra slide down my arms. I watched it fall to my hands and my breasts come into view. I placed it with my other clothes and felt their swaying and felt my nipples hardening further. My forearm moved in front of my naked breasts, over my now throbbing nipples.

"Don't cover your tits!" His voice was soft but his chosen words were not, gentle words. Not breasts, but tits. Not undress, but strip. I understood. I moved my arm; exposing my bare chest I felt his eyes on me, my breasts. "Carry on." Lowering my head in humiliation, I placed my thumbs into the band of my new sexy knickers at either side of my hips and began pushing the material downward. I stopped after exposing about an inch of my thin hair.

I looked at him nervously, mouth opened slightly, a look of 'Do I have to?' in my eyes. He raised his eyebrows. I shamefully pushed them down my thighs over my feet, my breasts swinging as I did. My lips feeling big and slick at the top of my legs as my thighs moved. I knew I was a slut.

I was made to turn around and back once. Deeply self-conscious, I had to bring my hands in front again and lift my tits in my hands as he watched, my nipples standing out rock hard advertising my arousal. I felt like an animal being inspected at market. Mortified I found my arousal increasing and my thighs slippery.

He told me to be nearer him until I was standing at his knees, I had to put my hands behind my neck, elbows out, tits thrusting defencelessly. Visions of the past weeks fantasies flashed through my mind, slaves, auctions. I felt like a naughty little girl. My breasts thrusting out in their eagerness, nipples and areoles pushing hard. And aching, such a throbbing ache. He instructed me to part my legs to at least shoulder width. It was excruciating feeling to be so exposed. I shivered at the thought. I was excited.

I knew I was wet. Oh God I didn't want him to see. He sat just looking for a while, looking at my body, naked, displayed for him on command.

"Spread your legs." I did. "No, further." My sex lips feeling big, ripe, about to peel open. I could feel my blood pumping inside me, my face burning. Move forward, nearer, legs still apart. Crunching my toes, inching forward I did, within touching distance I realised.

"You're aroused by your submission, by giving over control to me. Sexual control."

"No." It was too much too soon to admit verbally. he smiled as if he understood.

"Have you given me sexual control?"

"Yes." I had, I knew. I found it amazingly exciting knowing it, saying it.

"But youre not aroused? I just couldnt admit my arousal, I couldnt even say why. "Your nipples are rock hard."

"Its cold." Clinging on desperately.

"No it isnt. And you are wet."

"No."

"Keep still." His hand moved forward and touched my thigh. Oh god. I was shaking. He moved higher, the edge of his hand just touching. I didn't know whether I wanted to pull away or push onto it. His finger stroked along the join. My lips parted as the finger ran from one end to the other. My juices escaping from me, over his hand, wetting him and me. I gasped. He rubbed me, oblivious to my sobs. I felt like I was gushing my juices all over both of us. So wet, so very wet, so disgustingly wet. I could smell myself. Smell my sluttishness. He brought his hand to my face. I could smell it, see the wetness. I heard a soft moan, only realising after it was me

"I think thats unmistakable. You lied to me. I will punish you for that."

"Punish me?"

"Yes. Later. Put you over my knee. Spank you." My eyes opened wide. My mouth opened to speak. His finger went into it instead. I sucked automatically, my mouth filling with the taste of myself. His hand left my mouth and went back to my pussy. His fingers slid into me easily, delving deep inside. It was only moments before I groaned and my hips responded to his finger fucking. My hands came around to his wrist and held them as I rubbed up and down on him. Oh God, I was desperate but he forced me to be still.

"Now, lets start again. Are you aroused by this?

"Oh yes. Yes I am." My breathing fast.

"You lied so you need punishing."

"Yes. I need punishing."

"What is it that made you so wet and ready? Displaying yourself? Giving over control? What?"

"I don't know. I don't know." I was trying to rub myself against him but he was stopping me.

"Yes you do. Tell me. Now." This delivered strongly. I stopped and looked at him for a second before lowering my eyes.

"All those things. I didn't know before. Never guessed. I still cant really understand it. I don't know why." I blabbered.

"Say them out loud. Properly. Everything."

"Being naked like this so you can see me, displaying for you, excites me, being told by you what to do, does too. Excites me, really excites me. It's so shameful to accept that I have allowed you that kind of control over me. I feel so horny. I feel such a slut."

"You are one. But that is not a problem with me." He removed his hands. "Play with yourself. Finger your cunt. Play with your tits."

"Oh please no. No one has ever It's a private thing."

"You don't have private things now. Who have you given the control to?"

"You." Yes I had, conceded it to him. It wasn't my fault was it?

I brought my hands to my pussy and tits. I was so near him, he'd see everything. Bared, totally bared. Physically and emotionally. I felt my slippery liquids that he'd brought from me, rubbed them around my clit, squeezed my tits. I was so humiliated and somehow my body loved it. In minutes I could feel an orgasm approaching even exposed, or, could I admit because I was so exposed. Standing, watched, ordered to. His eyes were feasting on me. I displayed myself more and more wantonly, spreading wider, bucking up to him. Quickly I was near. Suddenly he smacked my hand away.

"Please?" Shocked. Eyes wide at him. "Please. Why?"

"You have not permission. I haven't allowed it. Certainly not that. Cumming you will beg for and get when I think you deserve it."

"Permission?"

"Yes. You've given me that control. I decide those things now"

"I guess. Yes. Oh God. When can I?"

It felt strange to be expected to ask permission. Reality had somehow altered slightly. What we were talking about was surreal. But it was important. I needed to learn the new rules. I felt I needed the rules. Please?

His hand moved and smacked my breast. It hurt a little but the shock was far worse. "Don't push it. I'll decide. Get on your hands and knees. Now."

I did as I was told. Tears in the corners of my eyes. He took my hair in a loose ponytail and used it as a lead to walk me around the room. As if I was a dog on a leash. I could not believe the humiliation. I scampered after him on hands and knees as he pulled on my hair, my slippery thighs rubbing, my tits swinging. It didn't feel wrong though. A pet. All around the room, up on the sofa, into the corners. Hands and knees moving quickly. Around again. Then kneeling at his feet again. Breathless.

"Who owns you?"

"You do. Ill be good. I want to please you. I do."

"Good little slut. Who decides when you can cum?"

"You do."

"Do you want to suck cock?" I nodded. "Say it."

"Yes. Oh God yes. I do. Please can I suck your cock?"

And I did. I wanted his cock in my mouth. For the first time that I could remember I truly wanted to suck a cock. I wanted to please him. He had me undo his trousers and pull him out. He was hard, so wonderfully hard. I kissed the hard length, the smooth dome and his hairy balls. I licked it, my hands caressed it, I took it inside. I gagged on it but took it again. I wanted to feel him inside me. He sat down again and I scrambled to have it again. I was scared I wasn't much good. I tried to suck well, wanting him to enjoy me. Suddenly I knew he was going to cum. I was so pleased, so proud. His hands went around my head. He was jerking and then cumming in my mouth. I never thought whether to swallow or not. I just did. It seemed natural. After, I cleaned him, licked and kissed him. The taste of man in my mouth. I felt like a proud slut.

He played with my nipples, softly and harshly. It surprised me to find I liked it equally. My body tingled.

He allowed me an apron and knickers as I prepared a quick dinner. Somehow it seemed to make me more aware of my nudity. I smelt of dirty sex. Still virtually naked under my apron, I ate with him at the table, though only a little. I was still so horny. After, we moved into the sitting room, him with a coffee and I had to lose the apron, it stayed in the kitchen. We watched TV and chatted about work and trivial things. He was dressed, my near nudity feeling surreal.

Suddenly I was made to stand again in front of him.

"You didnt tell me the truth before we ate did you?"

"No. Sorry."

"I expect trust, truth. I told you I would punish. You were naughty."

"Yes. Yes." My heart seemed so loud. My mouth so dry.

"And you accept that you have been a naughty girl, don't you?"

"Yes."

"And what happens to naughty girls?"

"They are punished, spanked."

"Do you deserve being spanked?"

"Yes."

"I don't think we need to ask whether you are aroused, do we?"

I shook my head, then remembered. "No." Then, "No, you don't. I think I am excited. I wont lie about it again." Remembering to speak fuller sentences.

"Do you wish to belong to me?"

"I want that yes. I want to feel really yours."

"What do you think my title should be? How should you address me? Decide."

I looked up at him. I was naked. He was dressed. I was very aware of my near nakedness. "Will Sir do?"

"Yes, I think that will do for now."

"Yes Sir."

Saying it quickly. Wanting to please him. Standing naked in front of this man, calling him Sir, wanting to please him! Letting him know I accepted his dominance by calling him Sir. What was I doing? But my pussy throbbed, I ached for this. It was exciting me more than any time I could remember. Sex with others, or even before with Michael hadn't come anywhere near this strange exciting humiliation. I didn't need to think about what I was doing. I just needed to obey. I wanted him to fuck me. I had made love to boyfriends. I needed this man to fuck me. I never needed it so much in my life. It was purely animalistic. It was a meeting of desire, of lusts.

He stopped. "Take down your panties." I slid them down to my knees but he said to keep them there and not fully remove them. I felt like a child. "Get over my knee. Over it not on it. Drape yourself there for your punishment."

I moved to the side of him, very conscious of my nudity and his clothes. Conscious, too, of my swollen, throbbing and slippery lips. Putting my hands on his thighs I lowered myself and then pushed forward with my hands on the floor. Poise had gone out of the window, getting into this position stripped any dignity one had away. I felt his trousers against my pubic hair. I felt my bottom vulnerable. I felt my breasts hanging free. I felt his hard cock press against my side through his clothes. I was so pleased I excited him. The underside of my breasts rubbed against his thigh. The position made feel how subservient I was. Embarrassment surged in me as I was aware of what he would see. I felt scared and so obviously not in charge, not control, not in any flight of the imagination. Laying over his knee helpless and exposed I knew Michael was in control, not me. I also knew that I enjoyed him having power over me, enjoyed knowing it, feeling it. I felt strangely at peace. Well at least momentarily.

Suddenly I felt his hand on my cheek, my bottom cheek bringing me back to reality. A slap, taking me by surprise. My arm went to protect myself. He held me still by holding an arm behind me. Another, and another. The shock was almost greater than any pain but the tingling slowly increased until I was squirming. The sound seemingly so loud. I stopped struggling, waiting for every blow, each slap, the same delicious pain. Tears were in my eyes as I tensed and relaxed with each successive slap. Worse than the pain was the very humiliation of being treated this way, humiliation that built my excitement even higher.

I loved his male power and strength. Both buttocks stung and burning fires raged in them. In my pussy too! This did not feel in any way like abuse or maltreatment. It felt good in many ways. It was only fair. I deserved it, I had lied about being horny. I was glad he understood my need for it. I was a slut; there was nothing I could do about it but take my punishment for my own filthy desires, though each slap on my naked and trembling cheeks only made her hotter, made me think of even filthier things I wanted.

He stopped and caressed me. His hands sliding over my heated skin. Then between my legs, pressing my thighs wider. His hand on my pussy. My squeals became low, throaty moans of gratification and my hips rose and began to grind against him as he entered me deeply.

His hand left me and then again a slap, and another, and another. And then another break. Another finger fucking. Another Spanking. Finger fucking. Spanking. Finger fucking. They began to merge. I was unsure of the difference. All my body was ablaze. I was nearly there! He whispered cum for me in my ear. I stiffened and then it exploded. He was still holding me, still smacking.

He had stopped and I was on the floor at his side by his feet. I felt so submissive, it felt so good, so deep. My body throbbed. Lights still flashed in my eyes. He had hurt and pleasured me. I felt in some strange inner place. It was so peaceful. I looked up at him. I was his. Tears had run over my cheeks. Neither of us said anything for a while.

Stand. I struggled to my feet and ran my hands over my tender and hot bottom. Stop that. I did not give you permission. I took my hands away and put them behind my head automatically and then became very aware of something half way along the leg of his trousers. My breathing stopped as I stared down at it. A large damp patch covered his trouser leg. Darker with moisture than the rest of the material. My moisture. My face stung in shame as much as my bottom.

Your face looks a mess. I hadn't thought of my eye make-up. Everything was suddenly so shaming. He looked at his thigh.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Sir. Oh please I am so sorry. I will make it up to you. I will. I'll do everything and anything you tell me. I'll be your slut, your sex toy, your slave. I want it. Oh God I do. I want it so much. Use me. I'll love it. I don't know why but I want it so much. Oh God I'm so excited. Please forgive me." It all just tumbled out.

His fingers found my sodden slit. I began pushing against it unable to stop myself, bending my knees outward, opening myself to him. Oh I was desperate, so desperate so quickly again in its need. I had lost all pride but it didn't matter. My juices were pouring from me, slurping noise were loud from between my legs.

"Get on your knees for me, bitch." I was sobbing but then realised he was going to fuck me, fuck his bitch. "Oh yes. Yes. Please fuck me." I dropped back to the floor. Eager bitch, I positioned myself, aware of my heat, pushing my hips high and ready. I heard him taking his trousers off behind me. I wanted to see him but daren't look. I felt his hands on my burning buns and then his hard cock pressed against me and then again and then it drove fully up inside my body making me gasp out loud. All the way up to my hot tender buttocks. My lubrication was more than sufficient; my body accepted its Lord and Master. Oh he was hard, oh yes so hard spearing up into my belly. Amazingly I found myself immediately spiralling out of control again almost immediately but thankfully heard his order to cum and knew it was alright.

He had held my hips, held me in place, stopped me from falling and thrashing wildly though I was vaguely aware I did still thrash about. He continued regardless, pumping into me, spearing my liquid flesh with his iron rod of a cock. He slowed and quickened, slid softly at times, took me harshly at others. I knelt gurgling into the carpet, vaguely aware of the smell of the dust, vaguely aware my arms had given out as he fucked and fucked me. Suddenly I detected a change, erratic jerks, and knew he was cumming. Gradually he slowed, though didn't soften. A still hard length of flesh in me for a while.