The First Steps in Being an Owned Slut Pt. 01

I felt his had slap me. Harder than he usually began, though not too hard. I was being spanked in front of someone! I felt my rear getting hotter, felt the sting of his hand. It was quite painful by the time he rested. Caressed my flesh for a while and then began again. I realised that I had begun to make whimpering noises, soft sobs. I felt the heat growing, the pain growing, flattening out. Tears dripped softly from my eyes, saliva dribbled at times from my mouth, only noticed when he stopped and caressed me, tenderly stroking over the stinging skin of my cheeks. He parted my thighs and caressed up and down their soft insides. My thighs spread quickly at his command, my stomach quivering, his hand stroked my lips. I felt disgustingly wet, slutty wet, achingly wet. Wet in front of Eric. My body was responding in front of another man. Pushing up. The world reduced to his hand and my responses. My entire hips throbbed in that strange pleasure and pain feeling.

"Open wider. Lift up slightly." I did it without thinking. Letting him see. Just obeying now. I wanted to obey now. Liked obeying.

I felt his hand covered my cunt. His right hand gently explored my naked flesh, rubbing and caressing my willing body. Then, from below, a slap on my mound! On my naked hairless mound, it took me by surprise and I gasped.

Turn over. I didn't understand. I was lost somewhere. Gradually I began to realise. Without standing I rolled onto my back across his knees, my shoulders on the sofa, my legs splayed, open. I could see my mound pushing up, flaunting, crudely as I looked down my body. He caressed me openly, my tits, my cunt, in front of Eric. Then it began again.

He was spanking my wet pussy with his hand! Searing pain erupted and chased any complacency away. Heat flowed into the tormented area but after the first ten rapid smacks the pain dissipated and only a warm, tingling feeling remained.

"Do you like being spanked on your cunt, slut? Does that naked slit like being smacked?"

"No. No. Yes." I didn't know, couldn't tell. I was lost in it all. "Yes. Yes Sir."

He began again. A little harder, faster! Hard slaps rained over my reddening cunt, but a hot numbness had set in and I only felt a rising passion from the rhythmic smacking. My body jerked frantically. It was difficult keeping my legs parted. If I closed them, even a little, he stopped and I knew I was being disobedient and had to open myself again. Heat radiated within my hips and juices splashed from the insides of me. Again and again it happened. Noises filled my head, whimpers, groans, sobs. The slapping sent vibrations down to my clit. It was so near the slaps. It stopped for a moment then begun again, over and over. A bigger pause.

I tried to get my breath but it went on. On my big fat wet lips, again just missing my clit, the wetness spraying onto my thighs with each slap. It even sounded wet. Spanked on my cunt! Oh God! Oh God. I was on fire.

A few blows were directed towards the top of my slit, aiming for the erect clit, and a jolt of pure electric ecstasy hit me when Sir displayed fully the extent of my submissive pleasure to Eric. I jerked. And again. He slapped my clit.

"Do you like this?"

"Yes.. Ohhh, pleeeease yes, spank me... slap my pussy.. more...please more... thank you, you're so good to your little slut...yessss... "

"Cum for us." I bucked up and cried out, fighting against his hands holding me down, my head thrashing side to side.

I gasped to get air inside me and let the fireworks slowly stop exploding behind my eyelids. I was desperate to be his good obedient girl then. I slipped off his knees.

"You've aroused Eric. He's hard. What are you going to do? You've caused it. You need to do something about it." I looked at him without comprehending. "Your mouth."

My pussy lips felt huge and tender as I crawled across the room and looked up; I was between Erics legs. His cock was out. Hard. A hand guided my head. I simply took the cock in my lips without thinking. It was a cock, I was a slut. I had forgotten I was a nice girl and became a wanton whore. Only when I was letting it fuck my mouth, taking it in and out, smelling a different mans aroma, only then did I think of what I was doing, whose cock it was. Fucking my mouth. The humiliation filled me like the cock, exciting me more, like the cock. I wanted my mouth fucked. I wanted to feel used, made to be used. Very much. At some stage I lost track of my surroundings. Some part of me knew Sir was there watching and he was in control and I trusted him so completely that I was able to forget everything else and just let myself feel the lust and enjoyment.

He withdrew from my mouth as he came, his semen spurting across my face. I licked his cum, bringing it back to my mouth with my tongue. I thrilled at being used and marked and splashed with come.

They left me kneeling, cum dripping down my face onto my tits as Eric fastened his trousers and adjusted himself and they talked. Finally, still virtually naked, I was told to take Eric to the door. I walked with him, my tits bouncing, my face still wet with Eric's cum, through the hall.

At the doorway he fondled my tits and laughed. I didn't move to stop him. His hands roamed over my defenceless body openly. I was hugely embarrassed at the quickness of my responses to his touches. I pushed my breasts out even more to his rough handling and his gentle caresses. I jerked my hips on his fingers as they slid so very easily inside me.

I found myself thanking him.

Walking back into the room I couldn't bring myself to look at Sir. I was so full of shame and felt so dirty and used. I was a come-soaked slut and I didn't deserve to have been this mans possession. I had enjoyed what had happened and he had watched it all. He must have known how full of lust I was. I was scared to think what he thought of this horrible little semen-streaked whore that was before him.

"I liked seeing you suck on his cock. I enjoy seeing you being enjoyed and Eric obviously did. It made me proud to know that you are mine. I also noticed that you lost yourself in it, lost yourself to the passion of the man you were pleasuring." He threw a bundle of tissues at me, telling me to wipe my face.


Grabbing a handful of my hair he pulled me to him. He tilted my face up to him and kissed me. A rough deep kiss with is tongue invading my mouth. It made me feel like such a beautiful slut. Could he taste another man in my mouth? When He pulled back he looked at me with such open lust that I shivered. I helped him undress there and then and he lay me gently on the floor and he fucked me lovingly. I was obedient and passive and he was loving, knowing I needed him to show me everything was good. He kissed my mouth and tenderly brought another orgasm from me and then he really fucked me. His hands grasped my still tender buttocks pulling me onto him. A finger slipped in my arse, opening me unexpectedly. My opening was wet with my juices, it slid inside easily but it felt tight. Things in both holes. Rutted savagely, he cumming deep inside my body as I writhed.

The following morning I knelt beside his legs as he read the paper. Naked except my collar. And the use of the collar was highlighted by what he had made me do. He had given me cereal and coffee for breakfast. He got it for me too. He knelt down and put it on the floor next to his chair. He gentled me down next to him until I was on all fours next to him.

Eat here. Like a little puppy bitch at my feet. My pet. I want to see you there. See you naked there while you eat. I looked at him wide eyed. I knelt, dropped onto all fours. I was in a daze. I could feel my breathing, feel my tits hanging down, my buttocks thrust up. He stood then sat on the chair half behind me. I was very aware of myself. It felt silly but something about it felt right, felt safe somehow. It was very humiliating to eat from the bowl only using my mouth, my bum thrust up. I couldn't do it very well at first and after had to clean up after myself but I did it sufficiently well to be pleasing eventually.

It's good that you accept my collar. He spoke to me from his chair. His hands caressed over my buttocks. His hands felt warm. They were lovely on me. I looked down feeling happy.

"I like owning you."

"I love being owned." I did. Oh I did.

Sitting naked with him was so restful. I loved the inner calm it gave me. Almost absent his fingers played with my tits as he read the paper, played with them and pinched them to excite me. I was always surprised how quickly I could become aroused now, how quickly I became aroused when it wasn't left to me to decide. I could get aroused in a moment of being touched or talked to by Sir. During the week I could become aroused by the most fleeting memory of my weekend submission, making me aware of the knickers I was wearing then and getting them wet. My tits were so sensitive as he played with them. Obediently I stood when told. His fingers found my cunt, found the puffy skin and lips surrounding it, found my hard clit.

"You're always quickly ready now aren't you?

"Oh. Yes Sir. Sorry.

"Don't be sorry. I like that in you. I don't want Miss Prim. I like knowing I own a slut." I blushed at his praise.

"Do you want to be allowed to cum?"

"Oh yes please." I closed my eyes, felt the heat of my face. "Please let me cum, Sir." It didn't seem at all strange that I was doing this, begging for my own release. It seemed good. I could feel his control. Open. I opened my legs automatically. He told me to put a finger in my own bottom, so shameful! I was shocked. I felt my finger trace the curve of my buttocks to the hot sweaty valley between. Oh God. I found the puckered private part of me. My pussy thrust in his face as he sat. Humiliation washed through me with lust.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, Sir, I am touching my bottom, my arse."

"Yes, dont just touch. Finger it like it is your cunt."

It slid inside. I shouldn't be doing this, it was a rude, private place. Initially the muscles gripped me tight but slackened as I continued.

"Only dirty sluts finger their ass. Are you one?"
"Yes, Sir, I'm a dirty slut. Your dirty slut."

He allowed me to use my other hand on my cunt. I thanked him without being asked. He was letting me. My cunt was owned. I was allowed to be so dirty. My tits stuck out at him as I arched to finger my bum. He played with my tits, squeezing them, getting harder, sometimes smacking. Pain sometimes with the pleasure. I was grunting as I fingered myself and rubbed my clit. Of course he would tell me when I could. He would allow me to. If he decided. Not me. Him. Not until he said. I had accepted that long ago. The room smelt of me, of a juicy slut, as it often did now. I was fucking my bottom too. A slut. Owned. He said he owned me. He did. Sex slave. I wanted to be. He was keeping me upright.

"Take your hand from your cunt." I obeyed reluctantly, but I did. "You can cum, but not touching your cunt."

I didn't think I could cum doing this in my arse. I was near but still, it didn't seem possible, nor did it seem right somehow. He was watching me. I pressed my finger in and out. It felt depraved to finger myself there. I wasn't sure if it was nice.

He pulled my own hand out and his finger replaced mine. It pushed into me, past my now well-lubricated rear entrance and I automatically clenched around it. Relentlessly he pushed his forefinger up into my tight, elastic back passage. Soon the knuckle had passed by my sphincter, and then it was all inside me, finger-fucking my arse with forceful thrusts. My clit felt on fire though it wasn't being touched. The sweet sensitive flesh was erect and thrumming with desperate need. The finger pumped inside my stretched rear, my buttock tensing and relaxing, my nipples ached with pain-filled lust, my clitoris pumped with blood.

"This is tight. It needs opening up." Would he fuck me there? Ohhh.

I was losing it. I spiralled down inside a black hole of depraved desire. The torment was more than I could bear. From somewhere I heard a long soft howling. It was me, trying to voice my need. My body moved spasmodically and pools of viscous excretions ran from me in the throes of a mighty convulsion. Every nerve in my body short-circuited. Sweat ran in rivulets from my skin and my abuse bottom tightened itself on the invading finger. Holding myself back, it was too dirty to cum like this, but with coloured fireworks bursting in my eyes. Desperately holding back. The chasm looming.

"Cum for me." I did. I fell to the knees, leant between his thighs. My body still held but spasms jerked me this way and that. Orgasms ripped through me one after the other. I felt his lips on mine gently kissing me. His arms went around me, held me, he kissed my face. I wanted to cry.

A few times in the coming weeks I had to ask Eric to come and watch my punishments again. It was obviously enjoyed it, looking at my nakedness and how I was used excited him. Although I couldn't account for it, having someone else see my submission was very arousing for me too. After, I accepted I was expected to allow Eric to fuck my mouth. By the end of my spanking I was always eager, it didn't matter who it was. Having my bottom and tits and cunt smacked made me like that. Sir knew. He knew how wet I became, how hot and horny, how compliant and well behaved I became for him. I wanted to have Eric cum because of me. I wanted Sir to see me doing his bidding, being his slut.

Sir bought a riding crop and floggers for me around this time. The crop was because he thought that I needed an incentive to be a good girl. It was purely for punishment and not to excite. He showed it me and let it whistle through the air. I paled at the thought of the crop striking my bum. He made me put my hands on my head and of course I spread my legs.

"Today I will give you only a taste of it and you will be grateful. It will be an encouragement to be good. If I use it again I will be giving you far more, this is just a taster." He raised the crop and used its leather end to gently stroke my tits, around the globes and finally brushed the tip over my engorged nipples.

"Good girl. You look lovely." His praise at my obedience made me blush. Those butterflies I got whenever he praised me spread out from my cunt.

He slightly moved behind me. Your beautiful bottom is available for me to whip if you are a bad girl. I tensed expecting a stroke of the crop, but instead he just used to stroke over my skin.

I stayed in position for what seemed like hours until finally I heard it in the air. It seemed to take a while for me to realise it had struck and then it stung me to the quick. The pain was sharp and radiated slowly inward. I heard myself gasping, sucking in air.

"There, there little one. See how it hurts. You need to be good for me, don't you?"

"I want to be good Sir."

"I know but there are times you slip aren't there? This is here to make you concentrate on being good. You like your spankings too much for them to be an incentive."

I hung my head knowing he was correct, knowing he knew me too well to try and hide things.

He moved around me to the other side. The sound, that dreadful hiss, and my tits burned with pain. I almost dropped my hands and felt my knees tremble. I wanted to curl up and hold myself but I just managed to keep myself upright.

"There. Thats all. Just so you know. We don't want any more now in future do we?"

"No. No Sir." I sobbed.

He moved in front of me and rubbed the leather tip along my thigh.

"Please. Please."

"Don't worry my sweet." I was shaking. The crop caressed my soft inner thighs, higher and higher. It came to rest right on my lips. I can even use it to find out how wet your little cunt is. I knew that I was soaking down there and that he knew it too.

"Rub yourself again the crop, show me how much your hungry cunt needs to be touched."

I moved my hips and pushed onto it. It touched my clit and made me gasp. I was fearful of being struck but more fearful of disobeying. The leather end pushed within me. Not far just opening me. He took it out and brought it to my nose and I could smell the ever present scent of me.

He had me move my hands to feel where the crop had struck. I felt a slightly raised line across both my buttocks and on the underside of my tits. I was going to be good. I did not want to be cropped again. It was so different to his hand.

"What do you call me?"

"Sir."

"I think in future you should call me Master instead. What do you think?"

I looked at him as I fingered the lines on my body. "Yes Master. I think it is appropriate. Thank you Master."

He hung the crop on the wall by the bed. "There, thats its place, you don't want to have to fetch it for me to use do you?"

"No... No Master."

"Good. I'm sure you'll be good." He put the floggers in the top drawer next to the bed. You'll appreciate these more I am sure. I wasn't too sure as I looked at the many flat leather tails.

Dinner and new horizons

My new black dress hung on the right places. It was a beautiful dress that Michael had bought me the weekend before. I made up carefully including my nails and hair. I had been allowed to wear thin black knickers but no bra.

I had to admit the dress showed my unsupported breasts nicely, my cleavage and their shape. As I sat my nipples poked obviously against the material and the hem rode high on my thighs showing them off in their sheaths of black nylon. I fastened the leather collar around my neck. It excited me. I was going to wear it out.

We had eaten a superb meal cooked by Erics wife, Mathilde, and had moved from the dinning room to the drawing room with drink. Though, partially due to a couple of glasses of wine, I had overcome my initial awkwardness and total discomfiture I still could not bring myself to look at either Eric or Mathilde fully in the face without my cheeks burning. I could not get the thought of Eric fucking my mouth out of me head.

Mathilde was at least four inches taller than me and athletically pleasant looking. She was a confident, perhaps dominant woman.

After being shown what I wanted sexually by Michael I realised that I could never really find anyone without dominance more than superficially attractive and now checked people out in terms of dominance and submission. She was a few years older than Michael and more confident that Eric. Eric, though older, was good looking in a strange way, though he was not dominant. Eric had used me because Michael had demanded it. I had enjoyed it, but I knew that was due to being made to perform by my Master.

The evening had been far more pleasant than I had expected. I had received quite a lot of friendly and pleasant attention from all of them and I had gradually relaxed. As my nerves had severely curtailed my eating, a couple of large glasses of wine helped too. We retired into the sitting room with our glasses. Well they did, as I finished Master told me to leave mine behind.

Mathilde shook off her shoes and curled up on the sofa, her legs looking long and her skirt riding high. Michael sat next to her and Eric an easy chair. I moved toward the other but Matilde had me stop, standing in the middle of the room looking at her as she smiled up at me.

"Take off your dress." Her voice soft and level. I gasped in surprise, looking quickly at Master.

"Do everything Mathilde tells you, as if it were me." He smiled. I felt my eyes widen as my mind took this in. I looked back at her and my stomach felt tight and my neck felt hot under my collar.

"Didn't Eric see you naked? When you let him fuck your mouth?" The heat exploded in my face and my throat dried in an instance. She knew! I wanted to look at Eric for confirmation but she held my eyes. "Well didn't he?" Eventually I nodded. "Can I not expect the same?"