Memoirs Of A Lesbian Sex-Slave (F/F, D/s, BD, Spanking, Needles, Enema, Humiliation, Consensual) by SpiderSophie ============================================================================ ====Memoirs Of A Lesbian Sex-Slave Chapter 1 - An opening ============================================================================
My rear end was the focus of a great deal of attention from Mistress. The cheeks got all manner of whackings, which I will deal with in another chapter, (for there is much to tell). Meanwhile, the hole was used as a way to humiliate and torture me. I suppose that is because it is such an intimate and private place. Mistress exposed it, examined it, invaded it and enemaed it frequently.I had to keep my hole completely clean. This was another of Mistresses' ways of controlling me. After every shitting, I washed myself thoroughly with a soapy cloth. I had to clean inside the ring too, by pushing the cloth inside and rubbing it round. To test my cleanliness, Mistress would stick a finger up my bum and smell it, then have me suck it. If she was not satisfied, I got caned.`Offer yourself', when given as a verbal command from Mistress, meant I had to get on my knees with my bum pointing at her, put palms to floor and forehead on hands, ass up, knees wide apart, feet even wider. I get this " offer" command a lot. It put me in a convenient position for examining, spanking and fucking. I often had to do this in front of strangers too - at BDSM parties or when entertaining guests. Even if I was clothed in one of my going-out outfits I was still quickly exposed. Once in position, mistress would just lift the dress over my hips, fully revealing my rear. Its a very humiliating position to be in, especially when everyone else is clothed, and chuckling at you, or even making comments about your features.Shortly after entering her service, Mistress decided that my anal ring was too narrow. To remedy this perceived problem, she ordered a set of black silicon buttplugs. There were five, all the same shape, but of different sizes. The smallest was the width of a pen, but shorter. The largest was as wide and long as a drinking glass. They were a rounded conical shape with a large base. Just in front of the base they narrowed a little, so that, once fully inserted, they remained in place.On the morning after the day the plugs arrived, Mistress laid them out on the coffee table in a line sorted by size, and told me she was going to open me. I was not entirely sure what she meant.It was just after breakfast when Mistress gave me a command to offer myself. I did so, and Mistress immediately put the smallest plug into me. It slipped in easily; if felt a little odd wearing it around for the morning, but soon got used to it.Just before lunch, I was made to offer again, and given the second plug. After lunch, I got the third. This one was a good fit - enough to stretch me a little. It also pressed palpably against my rectum.After serving Mistress her afternoon tea I was made to offer again. When the third plug was popped out, it felt good. It had not been painful, but had been pressing, and constantly noticeable. The relief lasted only a few seconds, for Mistress immediately started to push the fourth plug into me. Involuntarily, I started moving to resist it. "You will remain completely still" said Mistress. That was an order. Mistress' orders were to be obeyed. I tried to relax and remain calm, holding as still as possible.Mistress was pushing on the plug slowly but firmly. I could feel it stretching me open. However, it simply would not go all the way in. Mistress pulled it out, and for a moment I thought there might be safe. However, she ordered me to the en-suite to get the lube. When I got back, she had me offer again, then firmly greased my back passage with her fingers. This time, when she pushed the plug into my still resisting rectum, it entered fully.For the rest of the afternoon, I had to move slowly, gingerly and deliberately. Mistress knew I was struggling, and gave me chores to torment me. She made me clean the bathroom, even though it was already spotless. She made me do some tidying up on the shelves in the garage too. All the time the fourth plug was deep inside me.By now I well understood that I was going to have to take the fifth plug, and that it would happen today. It was just sitting there, on the coffee table, menacingly. Whenever I went past it I could not resist looking at it with some trepidation. My ring was already too tight. It was uncomfortable to move. I did not think that the big plug would fit, which made me scared of Mistresses' reaction.After dinner, I got the "offer" command I had been dreading. Mistress was sitting on the couch next to the coffee table, so I got into position on the floor nearby. I enjoyed the feeling of the fourth plug being withdrawn. It was like finally shitting after long constipation.Mistress heavily greased my anus. I could feel from her fingers that the ring was still very open. However, when the fifth plug was first pushed in, it stopped well before it reached the base. Not only was my ring stretched tightly, but the plug's tip was pressing against my rectum.She had me get some pillows and lie on them rather than the floor so I would be more relaxed. When that failed, she had me lie on the couch. Then she had me take a warm shower and lie on the bed. None of these worked. No amount of coaxing could get my anus to accept the huge invader.Eventually, Mistress found way to solve the problem. She put me into nadu (which is basically a kneeling position with buttocks touching heels). She stood the plug on the floor beneath me, and had me squat on to it. She gave me wine to sip, then she started stroking my back, quite gently. After a minute or so, she told me to push down firmly. As I did so, the giant intruder drove deeply into me.Mistress kept stroking. I kept sipping. Each time she said "down", I pushed, and the plug slipped in deeper. But then as I relaxed it slid back out a little. I could not tell if I was making any progress. Progress there was though. It must have taken a half an hour, but suddenly, on the last of dozens of little pushes, the rim of the plug finally reached my anal ring. It popped in, and held."Bed" ordered Mistress. Letting out long, gasping moans, more from pressure than pain, I crawled slowly to the bed. Walking was out of the question. The "bed" command meant I had to get onto the bed. Keeping my knees wide apart, I stood up enough to get my hips above the bed, then kind of rolled onto it, and lay there, literally stuffed.I was severely impaled. My ring was in pain. My sphincter was squashed. Maybe it was the backrub, or maybe my deep masochism, but my cunt was dripping wet too. Since masturbation was strictly forbidden, I just had to lie there. It was not unpleasant.Later in the evening, Mistress came to bed. I was still lying on the bed where she had left me. She had me service her, and then she pulled out the plug.It's an odd feeling being unplugged. It feels like you are empty - like something is missing. Fortunately, I did not have to wait long for my next opening.
Memoirs Of A Lesbian Sex-Slave Chapter 2 - Everyday Bondage
============================================================================== I f anyone vanilla (such as a tradesman) was coming to the house, or if Mistress was going out on her own, then I would be bound up. I'd also get bound up if Mistress had no use for me for a while. That was about four or five afternoons every week, when Mistress was working in the study. It was not that I could not be trusted, or that I was being punished - Mistress just felt that slaves should be restrained when not in use; much like tying a working dog in its kennel.There were two common commands Mistress used to prepare me for everyday bondage. "Bed, spread" meant go to the bed and lie face up, spread-eagled. "Bed, bara" meant lie on the bed face down, with ankles crossed, and wrists crossed behind my back. Bara is one of the many Gorean commands I had to learn. I could get these commands at other times too, but mostly they were a presage to bondage. When I got the command, I had to obey immediately. I'd try to sneak in a piss if I needed one, and if I thought Mistress would not follow me straight to the bedroom. That got me caned a few times, but it was worth it overall. It's no fun being tied up with a full bladder. All "bed" commands required me to strip nude first - that was pretty easy because at home I did not wear a lot anyway. I'd fold whatever I had been wearing and put it in the closet, for Mistress was particular in not leaving any clutter around. I would also get the liner and place it on top of the bed. The liner was to catch bodily fluids - sweat, piss and even poo if I had diarrhea.Once these preparations had been done, I would get into position, and Mistress would blindfold me, then lock me tightly into place. The locking was a matter of moments, for my wrists and ankles had permanent polished steel cuffs on them with rings attached for this very purpose.In the spread-eagled position, my wrists and ankles were chained to posts and rings on the bed. The wrist chains were very short. The ankle ones were short too, but attached to springy luggage ties that were in turn clipped to the bed. This put my body under a bit of tension. In the bara position, I got a hogtie. In this case, my wrists and ankles were all chained to each other behind my back and my collar was chained to the bed.The chains were not toys, or just for show. They had proper, strong locks on them and needed a key to release. The few times when I tested the bonds showed that they were very secure. Even had I wished to escape, it would have been impossible. I had to lie there helpless, often for hours, until Mistress chose to free me.One day it occurred to me that she was out, and there was a fire, I would die. When I mentioned this, very politely, to Mistress, she told me it was a small risk that she was OK with taking. I had no further recourse. Since I was fully the property of my mistress, it was her risk, not mine.I always got aroused when Mistress was fastening me in, the click of the clock - such an erotic sound. Unfortunately, I could do nothing about the feeling, which did not last for the duration of the bondage.Despite the disadvantages, I really liked being tied up. The hogtie could get uncomfortable but it also felt secure. The spread-eagle was more confronting. It had me feeling helpless in my vulnerability. The feeling of physical helplessness was comforting. Often I would sleep.
Memoirs Of A Lesbian Sex-Slave Chapter 3 - The needles ==============================================================================
Shortly I will scream in pain. I mean that quite literally; my mouth will get hoarse from howling. Outside, its pouring with rain. We do not get a lot of rain in our climate. When it does rain, Mistress takes full advantage of it. The rain muffles sounds, and that's what she needs. The neighbors must not know what goes on in here.Mistress is a cruel, sadistic bitch. That is not an insult, or a complaint. I knew what she was when I surrendered my life to her. I wanted an owner who would hurt me. My main concern about her cruelty was that she would not be sadistic enough to fulfill my deep masochistic needs. That has not been a problem.Although I know it is the precursor to my torture, I don't think of disobeying mistress when she gives me the "Bed! Spread!" command. This means I must get nude and lie spread-eagled on my back on the bed. I obey immediately, without resistance or complaint. When I am in position, Mistress firmly secures my limbs to the bed posts - an easy task, because my wrists and ankles have permanent cuffs for just this purpose, and the bed has chains and clips to match them. Now my fate is sealed. Nothing can save me from her vile attentions.I have not been blindfolded. The large mirror in the ceiling will give me an excellent view of my own torment.Mistress is quite cheerful as she lays out the needles on the bedside table. "It's quite a while since we had a good session. It's going to be such fun" she says breezily. There are seven needle tools. I had to make them myself, from a set of sewing needles and some corks. I drilled holes halfway into the corks and glued the needles' eye end into them. They can be safely manipulated by holding the cork. Two of them are about three inches long, and four are short one inch ones. The last one - the most evil of all - is even shorter, and thin as a hair. They live in a jar of antiseptic, but come out to play when the weather is right.Mistress climbs onto me, and sits with her full weight on my belly, so I cannot thrash around. I am quite busty, but when I'm lying flat my tits don't stick up much. It's simple for Mistress to make my tit rise though - she just pulls hard on my permanent nipple ring. I wince. I feel the tip of a long needle pricking into the soft skin on the bottom of my breast, beneath my nipple. Mistress holds it there for a moment, teasing me. Then she pushes on the base of the cork, and the needle easily slides deep into my tit. I yell, loudly. When I've calmed down to a whimper, Mistress continues. There's a fair bit of flesh at the end of my nipple above the ring. Mistress gets a short needle, and rubs the tip around the nipple; scratching it; drawing a little blood. She is just teasing me. Finally, she squeezes the nipple, and slides the needle right through it, out the other side, like a skewer. I screech with the agony.Mistress sits back and looks at me. There is much more to come, but she is in no hurry. She wants me to suffer. She laughs a little. I weep a lot. After a while, she slowly and deliberately repeats the process on my other tit. I go back to screaming for the whole time."You are a bit indisposed at the moment", Mistress says, "So, I'll serve myself". She climbs off me, pours herself a glass of port, sits in a chair by the bed, and sips it, slowly. Meanwhile, I lie in agony, trying not to move. The pain is not so bad if I am still, but breathing causes the long needle's tips to move slightly inside me, which hurts a lot. I can't stop whimpering softly.Finally, after ages, Mistress gets up, and briskly strips herself nude. "Fun time is over. I'm really going to hurt you now", she says. The bitch, she is rubbing it in. By far the worst is still to come. There are two short needles left, and a tiny one. I know what she is going to do with them. I whimper with fear.I did not want to crack, but I cannot help it - I begin begging. "Please Mistress, please. Don't do this". Mistress is enjoying this. She likes it when I beg. That's how she knows she's really hurting me." Don't be silly sweetie. You know I like it. And that's all that counts", she replies. I continue to beg, but she just ignores me. Being a no-limits slave, I don't have a safe-word. Nor do I have any bargaining power. I can't offer Mistress anything she does not already have, for she already owns me completely. I am utterly helpless; totally at her mercy.Involuntarily, I pull my knees together as much as I can, to protect myself. It does no good at all. With my ankles cuffed six feet apart, my bald, red cunt is fully exposed and vulnerable. Mistress just climbs on and sits astride me with her own knees on mine. She grabs a large slice of labial skin, puts the cork end of the needle into my cunt, and pushes the needle out, sliding the shaft all the way through till the point is outside. I jump enough to buck her. My yell is surely loud enough to overcome the rain's sound - not that I care.I'm in a daze of pain. In the background, I hear Mistress chuckling. The fourth needle goes into my other cunt flap. This time, I don't feel it much. The pain just merges with all the others.Mistress climbs off, and returns to her port. Her tortures are served slowly. She waits. For how long? Who knows. I'm semi-conscious, at best, alternating between gasping and bawling.Suddenly, Mistress is on top of me again. In my stupor, I had not noticed her move. "Wake up sweetie", she says. "You would not want to miss the best bit". I feel the tip of the last needle pricking me just below my clit. Suddenly, I'm fully awake again. The final needle is the cruelest. It's such a short, thin shaft. Who would think it could cause such grief. The rain outside is coming down in torrents.Without further warning, Mistress buries the last needle into my clit. I shriek uncontrollably, then quickly pass into semi-consciousness again. I 'm little aware of my surroundings, my Mistress and even my tortured breasts. All that matters is the searing agony in my cunt. I'm thrashing my hips up and down to try to relieve it, and bawling my eyes out. It does little good.It seems like ages, but is likely only a few minutes until the pain drops to a more bearable level. I calm down to a whimper. Mistress is still sitting on me. She slaps my cheeks, then leans forward so that her tits are in my face. I slip one of her swollen, hard, purple nipples into my mouth. I roll my tongue around it. But not for long. After just a few seconds, Mistress pulls back and forces the other breast into my gasping mouth. She is just playing, really. She needs no more foreplay, for her arousal has come from my pain. I can smell her sexual excitement. Quickly, she moves forward and sits down on my face, with her cunt pressing into my mouth. That shuts up my moaning, at least. I waggle my tongue as fast as I can. It does not take long - just a few seconds and Mistress is cumming. She shouts with joy as she jiggles her cunt in my mouth. I push my tongue into her as much as I can, to keep it on her clit. It isn't easy, but I must do it - I don't want a harsh punishment-whipping as well.My face is dripping with my tears and the juice of Mistress' cunt. My own cunt is dripping even more - and not with blood. Even through the blurry veil of tears I can see in the mirror that there is no doubt about my masochism - my glistening red pubes and erect nipples put my own sexual needs blatantly on display.Now that she has taken her pleasure, Mistress extracts the shafts that pierce me. They slip out easily; first the tits; then the labia. As each one is drawn, it provides some relief from the pain, but does little to dampen my sexual ardor."Ready, sweetie", Mistress asks. It amuses her to watch me cum from her torture. Not that she could stop what is about to happen anyway. As she slips the clit needle out, the relief turns the searing pain from suffering to pleasure; I cum instantly and heavily. While I writhe around in pain and pleasure, Mistress laughs at me.As I finish my climax, Mistress wriggles a finger on my now very tender clit, and I have another short, sharp orgasm. When it finishes, Mistress repeats the finger rub, and I repeat the cumming. Then she does it again. Each time, I get less pleasure and more pain from my poor, burning clit. Of course mistress is not doing it for my pleasure, but for hers. After five or six times, she stops. Perhaps she can see that I am spent, or perhaps she is bored.Mistress unshackles me from the bed and tells me that I will sleep with her tonight. Thankfully, I crawl into bed with her. I slip my arm around her and nuzzle her neck with my lips, to show her my love. Mistress does not mind. "I'm looking forward to tomorrow night", she says. "It looks like rain.
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