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Review This Story || Author: Estaban Bacca

The Pain and Pleasure Journals

Part 3 The Third Session

The Third Session

The afternoon was filled with various errands. I stopped at a favorite restaurant and ate a lean meal with lots of protein. Each session used up so much of my energy that I often found myself feeling ravenous. I had to rush home in order to have enough time for the dreaded enemas. It was the same as ever….still very difficult to endure.

Tonight, instead of hesitating in the car, I went straight in as soon as I arrived. I took off my clothes and folded them neatly. No one met me...then I noticed a note taped to the back of the door. It instructed me that once I had undressed, I was to enter the barn. I was to crawl to the platform and present myself to who ever might be sitting there. I went through the door and dropped to my knees with my head down. I took no chance of being caught with my eyes raised to the Masters. Sir had told me to be good and to try hard not to embarrass him.

It was a long way from the door to the platform. It took me awhile to reach the far side of it. I tried to remember to crawl seductively, to keep my thighs parted and my ass raised up as much as I could. I thought how hard it was to crawl properly. It was something I was not at all used to. I made a mental note to practice crawling at home.

There were four sets of feet on the platform. I recognized the three pair of heavily booted feet belonging to my Masters. I felt relief. The wording of the note had left me fearing that someone strange might have awaited me. To my far right I saw black, leather boots with very high platform heels; the boots of a female. The sight of them aroused a new nervousness in me. I felt the flush of heat and embarrassment suffuse my flesh. I had come to enjoy presenting myself to these men but the idea of another woman seeing me abjectly crawling bothered me.

I stopped in front of the boots that I knew belonged to Master James and raised up on my knees to the first presenting position as I had been taught. They completely ignored me and kept on talking about a recent party they had attended. They traded stories and laughed. It was as if I wasn't there. It was hard staying still, holding position, the platform was hard and my knees were starting to ache. Finally, Master James leaned forward and cupped my breast in his hand while he was talking and teased my tender nipple. I winced and he felt it. He leaned closer, lifting my breasts and inspecting my nipples.

"Who used your nipples like this, girl?"

I told him of the punishment Sir had decreed following my second session. I had been ordered to apply clamps to my most tender parts. He ran his finger over my clit which was also tender and swollen; it made me gasp.

"Tell your Dom that I can be your witness that you took your punishment. I'm afraid that your poor little clit will be mighty sore before you leave us tonight. Isn't that right, Michael?"

They all laughed together.

"Present your ass to us, girl." Master Robert said.

I lowered myself to my hands and knees and crawled around until I faced away from them. I'd never been so relieved to get out of any one position. It felt good to lean down, stretch my arms forward, and rest my cheek on the floor. I remembered to keep my knees parted wide and lift my ass up. Then I felt hands everywhere, whose hands I didn't know. Someone was stroking my hair, another rougher hand tracing my spine from the base of my neck all the way down to the curve of my hips. Yet a different hand was reaching underneath me, cupping my cunt, squeezing gently over my rings. A thick finger began probing my ass with just its tip pressing in,

"Show us with your body how much you want to be used. From now on each time we inspect you, you must show us what a good girl you are," Master James ordered.

I flushed red from embarrassment when someone tugged on the string of my tampon but started squirming and wiggling my ass wantonly, as I felt it was what they desired of me. I pushed back at the hands that were probing me. I moaned like a slut for them and moaned even louder when a finger pushed all the way past my anal ring. There were long, sharp nails raking my back and my ass cheeks and then a sharp slap followed by the woman's voice.

"Shake that ass, you hot little bitch."

My ass was rocking, lifting and pressing back at him. I clenched down on that finger until I felt it pull out, leaving me aching and empty and I groaned again. They must have moved away, for suddenly all those arousing hands were gone. I was left sweaty and trembling, alone with the lust they had built in me.

"Resume the first position, girl!"

Master James' voice penetrated my mindless hunger and I hastened to obey.

"Now listen carefully and remember what I tell you. When you present in this position, you must cup your breasts. Lift them up and offer them to be used."

I nodded my understanding.

"You may speak in that position but only to beg that we use you for our pleasure. After you have offered up your breasts, you will part your labia and offer us your cunt. You will beg us to use it. Do you understand, girl?"

Again, I nodded my compliance.

"You will then take the second position and pull your ass open for us. You will beg us to use your asshole. You must remember your place. You are a needy, submissive slut whose only purpose is to obey and give pleasure to the Masters or Doms you were born to serve."

"Yes, Master." I whispered.

"This is again the time you may speak freely. Is there any part of your training that you have had a problem with?"

I almost said nothing out of fear but at the same time I felt he wanted me to be honest with him. There was no longer any point in protesting their use of the ice at my last session. It had passed and I had survived it. But there were the enemas that I so loathed.

"Yes, Master James, I dread and hate the enemas more than I've ever hated anything. I'm trying to obey, I really am, Sir."

He leaned down and lifted my chin up with his fingers and gave me permission to look into his eyes. When I did, I found them dark but not angry. They seemed to be trying to delve within me.

"Girl, you have to trust that there is a reason for everything we have you do, especially the preparation. Think of it as getting into the mindset of your submission. Think about how you are serving when you wash your body and shave. That you are coming to us clean and perfect inside and out for our use. Think of it as your offering. As your way of showing us that you are worthy of being used. The enemas are large and difficult, I know. Use that for your benefit by accepting it as an act of obedience. As you rid your body of impurities also rid your mind of everything that will distract you from focusing on who you need to be when you walk through this door. Who knows, slut, in time you may come to enjoy it. If that's all, then prepare yourself to accept your discipline."

Master Robert got up and told me to lift up my hair from my neck. He put the thick heavy training collar on me. My wrists were cuffed and my arms drawn back with the cuffs clipped together behind my back. I didn't know where the lady went, I didn't hear her or see her but then I didn't dare raise my eyes up to look. He helped me to my feet and led me to one of the padded tables. I was forced up onto it so that I lay with my hands uncomfortably beneath me. With my legs spread wide, I was fastened into immobility by heavy leather straps. My head, my torso, my belly, my thighs, calves and ankles were all secured. My movement limited to the curl of a toe and the blink of an eye. While they were doing that, Master James stepped up close with a box in his hand. No one said a word and the longer I lay there the more nervous I became. Discipline was something I dreaded and yet it was the one part of the session where I knew I could go to subspace and escape the agony of the pain.

My legs were strapped wide apart, and Master Michael stepped up to the end of the table and began gently probing up through my slit until his finger found my sore clit. I moaned when he began circling it at the base, brushing over it, making it throb with both pleasure and pain from Sir's clamping. It was then that Master James slipped something over my bruised right nipple, a syringe kind of thing that fit flush with my body at the base of my nipple. He began pulling up on the little syringe, making a vacuum inside the tube, and the pain was immediate. I looked down in horror to watch my nipple swell and be sucked up into the tube. The suction was constant, my nipple expanded to fill the base of the tube and the awful sensation became almost overwhelming. He moved to my left nipple and did the same thing.

"No. Please, no, I can't stand it."

He ignored my protests and went to the end of the table, where Master Michael spread my labia open. I watched with pain clouded eyes as another syringe was applied to my clit. Concentric circles of agony now radiated from three throbbing points of pain on my tortured body.

"I think twenty minutes should do it. Let's go get some coffee while we wait."

I heard their footsteps retreat, hushed voices and then in the distance garbled conversation pierced occasionally by the sound of female laughter.

My nipples and clit were on fire. I could feel every heartbeat and the blood pulsing through me felt hot. Peering down the length of my body, I saw that my nipples and clit were three times normal size. They stuck out from my body, looking obscene and gross, like small, purplish baby cocks. I closed my eyes and in my mind imagined Sir standing back in the shadows watching me endure this for him. I tried to slow my breathing as the

rise and fall of my chest seemed to aggravate the action of the tubes.

At last the Masters returned. Master James flicked the tube on my right nipple with his thumb and finger. I heard a moan and realized that it had come from me, from deep inside me.

"Perfect."

Before they depressed the syringes to take the tubes off, they stretched rubber bands down over the tubes, and down to the base of my nipples. They cut into my flesh and kept all three of my tortured appendages engorged even though the syringes were removed. They then took three clover clamps with tiny chains connecting them and clamped them to my nipples and clit. I screamed. I couldn't help it. What had been steady pain, suddenly moved in hot deep pulsing waves through my body; I clenched my hands till my nails drove into my palms. Strapped tight to the table, I shook and writhed in my restraints. Master James bent down close to my face, stroked my hair,

"There, girl, there, go with it. Go with it, sweetheart, take it. Accept it."

His voice was soothing and soft, the words caressing my mind. A numbing set in and at last I calmed. He kissed my hair.

"Good girl. That's such a good girl."

Master Robert unstrapped me and helped me up off the table. He had to help hold me when I first stood up, the wave of pain from the dangling clamps nearly made me faint and my knees buckled.

Master Michael walked up holding a black leather leash and attached it to the ring between the nipple chains. He said it was time to be leash trained. I was told that whenever I was leashed and walked, I was to heel to the right and always one step behind my Master or Dom. He turned suddenly and took a step forward. I wasn't ready and the leash tugged hard on the chains and made the clamps tighten down. I yelped and jerked forward, nearly stumbling. After that I moved when he moved, stopped when he stopped. I became his silent shadow, enduring the weight of the biting clamps and the chains that felt heavier with each minute that passed. We circled the barn several times, starting, stopping, and turning. When was satisfied, he led me back to the platform.

"Kneel and present your body again."

He slipped the leash off but left the thick collar on. My hands were released from behind me and I gratefully sank down to my knees into position.

Master Robert was on my left and I heard a thud. I glanced toward the sound and saw several coils of rope in different colors. He picked one up and began binding me, circling each breast with tight loops and spirals. As the rope coiled and tightened, my breasts swelled and were lifted and yet another variation of deep burning and throbbing set in. The rope circled my upper arms and they were drawn back, and loops went up through the rings of the collar, through the wrist cuffs, and slowly, so slowly my body was pulled forward, face nearly touching the floor. The rope had me so tightly bound that I could scarcely move a muscle. My hands were drawn back to my ankles, my knees up underneath my breasts and all the while the clamps and chains hung from my abused nipples. I felt the cool draft of air on my raised ass, the only part of my body not covered with rope, If only I could have rested my cheek on the floor but the stiffness of the collar

and the way I was tied prevented even that small comfort. I ached everywhere now, every muscle was screaming at the unnatural stillness. I longed to stretch out and rub my aching arms, shoulders and legs. I was already groaning when I felt the first soft stroke of the flogger.

No rabbit tail flogger this time, no easing into it. This time the strikes started almost gently but with a definite sting to each one. The tempo picked up, the strikes became heavier, harder and I heard Master Michael grunting. Each time a swish of air just before the leather bit into me. My groans became cries as the leather searched out every inch of my soft ass cheeks. The heat flamed, and soon, thank god, I was soaring. The leather became my lover. Taking me past the pain, to a place where my awareness shrank to an out of body awareness of myself. I became my Master's thing. His slut. I became nothing beyond the throbbing nipples, burning cunt and fiery ass that he used for his pleasure.

When I came to, hands, gentle, strong hands were untying me. My legs were straightened out. The hands massaged and soothed my tight aching muscles. The clamps and chains and the little rubber bands were all removed and again the searing pain exploded through me from my nipples to my clit. As I sobbed, Master Robert held me tight to his body, rocking me and stroking my hair while pain slowly faded.

"Hush, baby. Hush now, accept it, baby girl."

Then there was the rough-soft touch of his huge thumb brushing tears from my cheeks. My eyes closed and with acceptance came another time of drifting.

I was allowed to sleep for awhile. When I woke up, Master Robert's lap had been replaced with a small pillow. It was Master Michael who was gently shaking me awake and I wasn't punished for looking up at him when my eyes first opened but I quickly lowered them.

"On your knees, girl."

A large bowl of cool water was placed just in front of me. I was dying of thirst and my throat felt raw from all of my screaming. Master Michael put his hand on the back of my head and gently but steadily pushed my face forward. It was a dog bowl. I realized that I was expected to lap up the water. It was hard drinking like that but I was so thirsty at that point nothing mattered to me but obeying. If this is what Master Michael wished for me, then I knew there was a lesson in doing it. As I drank with my ass in the air, splattering water and feeling it dripping off my chin and my nose, I understood just what that lesson was meant to teach. I was property. I was owned, just as a valued pet is owned and cherished. I would be cared for, my needs would be met. There would be food and water and a safe place to sleep in. But like any pet, I would have to behave. I would obey or there would be punishment until I accepted the will of my Master. I would follow his rules, worship him, protect him, defend him, and trust him with my life. I would be trained to serve the one who owned me and my only purpose would be serving and pleasing. I would be the faithful pet at his side. Did I find this humiliating? Strangely, I did not. Not in the least. I felt very proud to be lapping water out of a dog bowl and coming to understand and accept who I was.

I emptied the bowl. It was Master James who came for me. He attached the leash to the posture collar and led me, crawling on all fours, to a large cushion on the floor of the platform.

"First position, slut," was all that he said.

I assumed that kneeling position and he cuffed my wrists behind me again. The woman, that woman that I had seen before, stepped in front of me. All I could see were her legs, black thigh high fishnet stockings and very fine black leather boots to her knees with high platform heels. Her hand twisted into my hair and she raised my face up.

You may look at me, slut."

I looked up to a face with the darkest eyes I'd ever seen; they were intense and almost black as they appraised me. She wore heavy makeup, dark red lipstick and her hair hung down past her shoulders. It was curly, like mine. She wasn't what I'd call pretty but she was striking and exuded an air of authority. She wore a black leather bra and a matching vest that hung open. A leather thong of some kind covered most of her belly but not her ass. Instead of one panel of material covering her crotch, there were two bands of leather that divided off, running to either side of her labia so that her cunt was exposed. She was not shaven and a bush of dark curly hair was displayed. Still holding my head up, she stepped closer.

"I am Mistress Marissa and you will serve me tonight."

I whimpered and my heart skipped a beat as I felt the smack of Master James' crop on my sore burning ass cheek.

"Girl, show Mistress Marissa how much you love her pussy. Lick her. Service her until she cums on your face."

She stepped forward again and straddled my face, still holding my head back with her fingers twisting tight in my hair. She gripped my head in between her thighs and pressed her cunt down to my mouth. I had to fight the urge to gag. The crop stroking my ass focused me though. I began licking, pressing my tongue up through her wet slit, circling her clit, nuzzling my face in tighter. All the while Master James continued to stroke my ass cheeks with the tip of the crop. With that constant reminder I began sucking and even nipping and tugging her musky labia. She was grinding her hips and moaning. I thrust my tongue deep inside her, wiggling it, slipping it in and out in my effort to make her come. I sucked up the slick cream that began pouring out of her cunt. There were minutes where I couldn't breathe. I felt I might suffocate from her cunt covering and pressing down over my mouth and my nose. At times, I would gasp for a breath, only to inhale wet pussy and no air at all. I worked harder, concentrating on her clit, tugging it, licking it, then slipping my tongue deep inside her again, back and forth like that, my face slick with her cream. Finally she screamed and came hard on my face, thrashing and bending my head back with her weight as her knees buckled.

"Ohhhhh fuckkkkk!" She screamed out.

She ground down hard, rocking over my mouth, while I sucked. At last she pulled off me and stepped back.

"What a cunt sucking bitch this one is!"

My eyes were lowered, my head held high by the collar and I was shaking. I was so grateful that she had been pleased and that I wouldn't be punished. Her smell was all over me, it was on my face and in my hair. I was covered with her cum. Then she stepped forward again.

"Clean me up, girl."

Closing my eyes, so that I wouldn't look in her face, I began licking. Long, slow, deep licks, with my tongue flattened. I licked up through her wet slit, her cunt, her bushy hair, the puffed labia and her hard, swollen clit, seeking to clean her thoroughly. I even darted my tongue inside her again.

I had only succeeded in arousing her again. She started grinding down hard on my face but this time she came quickly and hard. Her strong thighs squeezed tight on the sides of my head, locking my mouth to her. Again a flood of her hot cum filled my mouth. I could feel her quivering and then she suddenly released me and staggered back.

"Thank you, Mistress Marissa, for the honor of serving you." I whispered.

Master James seemed very pleased by that. He put his hand on my head and stroked my hair.

"Good girl. You may go but wear Mistress Marissa's cum until you get home."

I crawled to the room where my clothes were and dressed. I knew I wouldn't be able to stand my thong or my bra touching my nipples and clit, so I carried them out with me. My face was still wet with her cum. I hoped no one would see me on the way home and yet I felt good, felt proud that I'd made it through one whole session without being punished. It felt good to please.

Author's Note: This is the last update to this work that will be posted. These three sessions and the remaining seventeen comprise a three volume trilogy. The first of these volumes is entitled – "Seeking". Anyone with further interest in the journals is welcome to e mail me. Estabanbacca(at)yahoo(dot)com.


Review This Story || Author: Estaban Bacca
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