"The Muse Trilogy"
(Story Three)
"After all, it's for Charity"
He said it was for charity and we would have a lot of fun doing it. But my
female intuition is telling me there's something sinister behind it.
Don't get me wrong. I believe in helping those who are less fortunate than
I am. Like the old saying goes, "what goes around, comes around". But with
this guy, I have my reservations.
I met him on the internet. I posted a few of my stories in one of those
sexy story newsgroups and he read them. He then sent me e-mail telling me
what a great writer I was, and hoped to see more of my writing in the
future. Well, that's all I needed to hear. I'm such a sucker for positive
reinforcement, like most writers. And looking back now, I should emphasize
the word SUCKER!
Of course, back then, everything was great. I would write and post stories,
and he would read them and tell me how great and sexy they were. He even
sent me some of his own stories. And they were good too! They got me all
excited and wet between my legs. He knew exactly what I liked, that
lecherous con artist!
Anyway, in the process of sending e-mail to all my fans, I sent him a
picture of myself by accident. A picture that was a bit risqu too. Well,
it wasn't THAT risqu . Just a little cheesecake with me wearing a lot of
skin and a red frilly bikini. I had to laugh though. He wrote me a story
from the stand point of a woman and somehow, in all the excitement of
reading it, I actually though it WAS from a woman. So that's why I sent him
my picture. No big deal really, just a simple act of mistaken identity
that's all. Oh, in case your wondering why I sent him a picture of myself
in the first place, it's because I'm a lesbian. Well, maybe not 100%, not
yet anyway. But I am a bisexual who definitely prefers women to men. And
trying to find such a "special" woman to simply converse with at an
intimate level over the internet, let alone actually meeting one in the
flesh, isn't all that easy I'll have you know.
You see, when I say "special" I am not referring to simply her being a
lesbian. When I say "special" I mean it in a manner that I write my stories
in. My special woman is a "Dominant" woman. One who can really treat me
like a slutty little exhibitionist kinky whore that I dream about and crave
for. That's my fantasy. You know, FANTASY, play time with safe words,
discretion, behind close doors, etc, etc. I already have a great life with
a good job. So why would I want to risk throwing all that away just for a
good orgasm, right?
Well, one thing lead to another with this guy. The more we corresponded,
the more I told him of my deepest, darkest and most secrete fantasies and
desires. He was so easy to talk to and bare my soul to, that conniving son
of a . . . Anyway, as his story writing continued each one became more
intense than the last. Like I said, he was incredible at seducing me with
the written word. Always telling me what I wanted to hear and in a way that
was different and more exciting than the last. Damn it was good!
So one day, to add a little spice to it all as if I really needed the extra
excitement, he told me not to read his stories until lunch time at work. Do
you know how hard that was? I didn't know what was worst, the anticipation
of what was coming or the frustration of not being able to seek
satisfaction once I did. And to add insult to injury, I added my own little
aphrodisiac, if you will, to the erotic stew that I was simmering in. I'm a
bit embarrass to admit this, but on several occasions I even went to work
without wearing any underwear. And once, late at night when everyone was
gone, I even masturbated there too. God it was good! But I almost got
caught by the cleaning crew. WOW, was that close, and exciting! I ended up
diddling myself all the way home in the car. And when I did get home, right
after that door closed, I really let myself go there on the vestibule
floor. It was awesome! That's when I knew I was hooked.
As time went by, I began to notice that the periods between receiving his
stories were getting longer and longer. He said it was because of his real
life responsibilities and such. And I believed him, STUPID ME! He was
simply biding his time as I slowly roasted in my own oozing salacious
juices.
That's when I came up with a bright idea. HA! My idea? You can say what you
will, but I know otherwise. It was really HIS idea, in a round and about
way, that tricky bastard!
So my, I mean HIS, idea was this. I needed a way to motivate him. To get
under his skin like he did mine. To make him hunger for me as much as I did
for his stories. If he was going to sit idly by while I simmered in this
erotic stew he put me in, then I was going to give him a little taste to
see how good I was cooking up. Thus, I sent him another picture of me,
topless this time.
I grant you, THAT was risqu . But he really did come across as a nice guy
and all. Throughout all our communications he kept on telling me how he
respected my privacy, how he kept confidences, how vibrant, attractive and
sexy I looked with each revealing picture I sent him. And yes, I did send
him more than one. He even began calling me his "Muse" because I inspired
him so much in his writing. Oh YEA, he really buttered me up good, the
whole nine yards. Then it happened. Blackmail!
I won't go into details except to say he used my stories, my pictures, my
e-mail to him, and threaten to expose me with them if I didn't follow his
orders from now on. Initially I thought he was joking, you know, like
taking fantasy one step closer to reality to get me all hot and excite. And
it certainly did! But he wasn't kidding. This time it was for real! I can't
tell you how I felt then. Part of me wanted it, bad, but another part was
telling me that my nice secure life was in jeopardy. And, if I didn't watch
my step I could really get myself into big trouble. Trouble that I wouldn't
be able to get myself out of.
That's when things began to change. He called it balance. I called it
exploitation. I keep my warm secure job if I do what he wants. Damn it,
it's nothing more than slavery. He says it's what I really want deep down
inside. I say, what choice do I have? So here I am.
He told me it would be like those kissing booths one sees at local
community carnivals. Except this one would be a little bit different. Yea,
right, a little different can mean anything to this guy. He so loves to
tease me. He also told me that it was going to be for charity. So I
figured, if it's for charity then it can't be too bad, right?
The carnival was way out in the boom docks. A remote country estate of some
rich and powerful couple. The idea was starting to sound good to me. The
charity thing would last the one evening and afterwards a party would
follow and go on for a whole week! Talking about your own private backyard
Mardi Gras. Since he planned on us staying for the entire week, I figured
that maybe I could get some free time away from him and maybe rub elbows
with some exceptionally nice people, WOMEN even, if you catch my drift.
It's been such a long time since he put a leash on me, literally!
So when we finally got there, there was a whole bunch of people busy
setting up there booths. They were so preoccupied with their own little
space that they didn't notice little tether me being lead behind HIM in a
most revealing sun dress, minus any underwear. But I sure noticed
something though. Like the funny feeling in the pit of my stomach when I
began to look closer at the interior of some of those booths. And from what
I could see, it told me that this charity soiree was definitely NOT "G"
rated.
After a short walk we arrived at where our, I mean HIS, booth was and he
immediately told me to take all my clothes off. I balked upon hearing that.
I stood staring at him with an alarm look on my face. I was about to ask
him if he really wanted other people, kids even, to see me totally naked
when he soon added that this was a carnival for adults only, so I should
not have a worried look on my face. He also said that I had a fantastic
body and HE didn't mind if I showed it off to everyone. HE didn't mind!
What about ME? Maybe I would mine! It was one thing for HIM to see me in my
birthday suit, but the rest of the elitist world too? I was about to tell
him NO, when he seen that rebellious look in my eyes and reminded me about
the incriminating evidence he had and would quickly disseminate to key
personal in my life if I did not comply. Now THAT, I WORRIED about!
So I took off my sun dress and here I stand, waiting, nervous, in full view
of anyone walking by and not a single hair on my entire body except for my
head. Yep, even down there too. That was the first order he gave me when
this blackmailing thing started. For as long as he OWNS me, as he says, I
am to keep myself clean shaven at all times. He even has pictures of me
like this. Pictures HE took of me in the privacy of MY own home. Pictures
of me in erotic poses with my hands and fingers in very intimate places and
doing very embarrassing and all so pleasurable things to myself. He even
gave me a few pictures to remember this precious humiliating moment by. The
rest he kept for what he says are for those cold lonely nights when I
wasn't there for him. HA! Just more fuel for the blackmailing fire they
are. But what can I do?
So here I am, completely naked except for a pair of five inch high heel
shoes he demands I wear. I'm forced to wear these damn things every time
I'm with him, whether we go out or not. He says he likes to watch me walk
in them because they make my cute girly tush wiggle like a real slutty
whore. He sure knows how to sweet talk a girl, that SOB.
He then takes me over to this stand in the booth. A shiny aluminum pipe as
thick as my upper arm and about five feet high is fasten to a square
elevated wooden platform. I think I know what he has planned for me and it
frightens me, and excites me. Sometimes I wonder how much of a slutty
exhibitionist gal I really am.
But before he makes me stand on that platform he pulls me to the other side
and places this wide black belt around my waist with a few short leather
straps hanging from it. He uses another series of short straps attached to
it's ends to fasten it tightly around my waist and behind my back. I
already have a rather attractive figure, the proverbial hour glass shape
that I am very proud of, but when he finishes with that belt my waist is so
pulled in that my figure looks more like that of an insect than a normal
human being.
He then walks in front of me carrying more black leather straps. This time
they are in the form of a body harness with two big metal rings attached to
them. The whole thing looks like one of those open cup bras, but much more
exotic and depraved looking. He brings it close to me and just before he
puts it on he stops and stares at me. Well, at my breasts that is. This guy
really gets off playing with my breasts. Not to mention putting me into
bondage too. So of course, given my voluptuous above average breasts
sitting naked and proud on my chest, he takes the time to play with them. I
can't believe he is doing this! Right here in the open with all those
people around us. I can feel my face turning a bright red with
embarrassment as he caresses and fondles them, especially my nipples. God,
I love it when he tongues and sucks on nipples like this. And to be honest,
I really do get off on his soft sensuous massaging of my breasts too. I
always get so deliciously tinglely with this kind of foreplay. But I would
never tell him that! After all, I'm being blackmailed here. Like it or not.
So after he gets his little jollies from playing with my breasts for the
longest time, he puts those big metal rings over them. He then begins to
pull them through by way of my hard erect nipples. He does have a gentle
touch, most of the time. But this time he seems more interested in getting
my breast to jump through those hoops than he is in how much discomfort,
OUCH, PAIN he is causing me. But he finally gets them through, thank
goodness!
He then begins fastening the straps leading from these rings. One set
coming from the side of each ring is fasten behind my back just like a bra.
A very short piece already connects the two rings together between my
breasts. Then two straps coming from the top of each ring is connected to a
wide leather neck collar. When he fastens the collar snugly around my neck
not only does it restrict my head movement because of how wide it is, but
whenever I move I can feel how this harness pulls on my now ball shaped
breasts via the rings. It feels kind of . . . interesting. The rings seem
to firm up my breasts into big pink ostrich eggs with perky nipples
attached to them. And when they do move they seem to bounce around like
basketballs instead of wiggle and jiggle in a normal girly way. It's a very
weird and somewhat appealing feeling.
Two more straps dangle from the bottom of each of the breast rings. One of
each pair he takes to a common point on my waist belt about were my belly
button is, or was, and fastens them to buckles waiting there. The other
pair that come from the same point on the rings he runs to another point on
the waist belt but this time to the back side of it. One final strap
remains and he threads it down my back from my collar, through a loop in my
bra strap and then down to the waist belt where he buckles it there in.
I wish I had a mirror to see myself in when he was finished. I mean, why
shouldn't I get some pleasure from seeing my creamy smooth skin bulge
around those black sexy tight straps so wantonly. And tight they are! My
torso is so constricted that I cannot take a simple deep breath without
feeling some major discomfort in my severely restricted chest.
Then he starts manhandling me. Turning me this way and that way. Copping a
feel here and there in the process. He even orders me to bend forward so my
ballooned out breasts can hang down fetchingly as he rubs and squeezes
their firm malleable flesh. He treats me just like his very own willing
slave girl instead of the stupid blackmailed bimbo that I see myself as.
He wouldn't even allow me the pleasure of touching myself, that fiendish
rat! All that I can do is to model my leather harness ensemble for him and
let him touch me anywhere he likes. Be it my breasts, my hips, over and
around my fleshy tush and the worst part of all, up and down the inside of
my sensitive thighs. He touches me everywhere except where I need it the
most! Right there, at my wet beckoning pussy. OH he can be one irritating
dick wad sometimes!
Then he tells me to move my bent over position so my ass was facing out
from the booth. He orders me to spread my legs wide and use both my hands
to spread my ass cheeks as far apart as I can. Damn it! I know what he is
going to do next. Ohhh, he's not going to fuck me in my ass like you might
think. He told me some time ago he wasn't into that sort of thing. But he
does like to see a beautiful sexy butt like mine with a plug sticking out
of it. Personally, I think he does it just to remind me how helpless I
really am. Like being a nude, harnessed, femme fatale at his beck and call
isn't enough already? But again, what can I do?
I then hear the smack of rubber gloves being put on and I jerked in
surprise. Right after that, I felt him smearing some kind of cold lubricant
around and into my bung hole. Now that didn't surprise me, it disgust me!
But all I can do is sneer with distaste and bear it.
He was taking his time stretching and probing my bung hole, to get it ready
for the plug. While that was going on I had a passing thought. 'Maybe, he
really is a gentle and considerate guy after all. I mean, he didn't have to
go to the trouble of preparing me like this.' Then reality hit as he began
forcing a second finger into my hole. Good Grief! He's not a nice guy for
cripe sakes. He's diddling my bung hole and blackmailing me! Why do I keep
looking for the silver lining with this guy?
Soon after when I felt him work a second finger inside of me, I heard a
voice that was definitely NOT his! The voice, a woman's voice, was asking
him a question. He answered her and then asked one in kind. Soon they were
having a conversation between just the two of them. And you know what they
were talking about? The weather! They were wondering if the good weather
would continue throughout the rest of the day and week too. I just couldn't
believe it. Here I am, exposing my asshole like some proud perverted
nymphomaniac while HE uses his two, no, THREE fingers to screw my ass with
right before a complete stranger, another woman no less, and all those two
could find to talk about was the weather. I was so utterly confused and
embarrassed that I though my ass was turning the same beat red color as my
face was.
A short time later I felt him stop working on my bung hole. I over heard
the woman telling him that I had a very nice ass, which made me feel kind
of good given the present bizarre circumstance that I was in. Then I guess
she motioned to me as if it was ok to touch me because I heard him respond
with "Sure, go ahead, but stay away from her pussy or she will cum like a
hot bitch in heat". He's such an ASSHOLE to talk about me like that. But he
was right though. Because if that woman did touch me there, then I'm afraid
I would cum ten ways to Sunday and couldn't do a damn thing to stop it,
even if I wanted to. I felt the fleshy part of my buttt cheeks being gently
touched and rubbed. She stayed away from my hands and lubed hole, AND my
aching pussy, while concentrating her gentle caresses and long sensuous
strokes on my butt, hips and thighs. Oh it felt good. But because I was in
the mitts of a very public humiliating situation via HIS blackmailing
hands, I just couldn't allow myself the pleasure of feeling REALLY good
about it. Even if it did come from another woman, a "Dominant" woman, my
dream fantasy come true. Then a question crossed my mind. Who was this
woman? She's a perfect stranger. One who I didn't even know what she looked
like let alone who she is. And she is taking such intimate liberties with
me like this. That thought alone made me feel all the more dirty, slutty
and whorish inside. Inhibitions or not, DAMN was I getting turned on!
Just before she stopped I felt a little pinch and a hard smack on my ass
that caused me to say "OUCH!". In response the woman mentioned that I was a
bit too sensitive and if I were hers, she would de-sensitize me post
haste with her whip. When I heard she used a whip on her sub's, that's when
I was glad that I was HIS and not HERS. What in the world am I thinking
about? I'm not a slave, a thing, an owned piece of property. I'm a viable
human being and a very good looking woman. I had better keep my wits about
me else I loose my mind completely to my imagination and cardinal desires.
Next, I heard the woman speak again with an eagerness in her voice. "My
goodness, that sure is a nice looking one."
"It is isn't it. I picked it up yesterday, especially for today's charity
drive. Would you care to do the honors?"
WHAT! Oh great, he was going to let that whip wheedling bitch put that plug
in me. That's all I needed now.
"Why thank you. You are a very kind man letting me plug your slave girl
like this. Too bad I didn't bring my strap on, then you could watch me have
a real go at with your pet."
I sign heavily. I knew I was in for it now. All I could do was to try and
stay relaxed and maybe it would be quick and painless.
It was a good thing he took the time to dilate me before hand. For when I
felt that dildoe up against my bung hole I knew that bitch meant business.
At first she used a twisting motion, turning it one way then the next with
just the right amount of push to force it into me. When it felt like it was
about half way in, she stopped twisting it and began thrusting it in and
out as if some guy, or gal with a strap on, was fucking my ass. She made it
a point to push it in a little deeper each time too. I felt so degraded and
yet aroused at being made to submit myself to this sort of depraved
sexuality, but what else could I do? Hell, as far as that woman was
concerned, I was a willing participant to this anal indignity.
After what seemed like forever, the bitch finally stuck it in as far as it
would go. Of course she had to smack my ass a few times as a token gesture
of a job well done, that slut! I was glad though that HE was there watching
her. I heard him make a few stern comments to her when she was getting a
bit over zealous with what she was doing, and not paying enough attention
to what she was doing to ME! However. in saying that, he was far from my
white knight in shiny armor out to rescue his beautiful damsel in
distress. That low life bastard used a bigger plug on me than I was use to.
It was longer, thicker, and even lumpier. HE's more of a black knight than
a white one, lucky me, NOT!
Then I heard the snapping of rubber gloves being removed. They must have
stepped back away from me to take my fully plugged, prostrated form into
view because I could hardly hear what they were talking about. The next
thing I heard was him telling me to "STAY!" That he will be right back and
"Don't Move!" What the hell! What was I, his bitch dog or something?
sheeshhh!!
This is great, just fucking great! Here I am, standing bent over in my
stiletto heels and tight body harness. My breasts and butt hanging out in
the wind for all to see. My hands holding my butt cheeks spread wide open
as though I was so incredibly proud of having this telephone pole stuck up
my ass for everyone to see. And HE decides to go take a coffee break or
something.
But I was lucky in the fact that only a few people walked by. Ok, so some
of them stopped and stare. And one clapped their hands and said "Bravo!"
God, I was so humiliated and horny at the same time when that happened. I
even thought about diddling myself for relief in the interim, but decided
against it just in case I was being watched, by HIM!
All of a sudden I see this flash of light. What was that? Then a click and
another flash. Oh no, it couldn't be. Damn it!
Not more pictures! I tried to turn my head to see who it was, but the
collar was too rigid and prevented me from seeing. So I began to bend over
more, maybe I could see who it was from between my legs. It was hard going.
The body harness and belt kept my upper torso from bending very much. All I
could do was to spread my legs more and hope I was limber enough to make it
while bending at my hips. Just when I was about to catch a look see . Damn it! I can't see! The flash was so bright that it blinded me. I
quickly moved back up and continue to look to the back of the booth. Oh NO!
I bet they got my face in that one. My easily identifiable face with it's
light skin and soft feminine features framed by my long dark hair that
cascaded down around my head like a contrasting backdrop. This was not
good! I waited until my eyes cleared and then listened. Nothing.
I bent down again to take a little peak. No one was there. My heart slowed
it's rapid beat. Thank goodness that is over with. Then I though, who was
taking those pictures? Immediately I felt a hard slap on my ass and HIM
telling me to straighten back up. I yelped and slowly did as HE commanded.
It always felt weird standing erect with something up my ass. I wasn't sure
if my body wanted to force it out or pull it in completely. I think either
way would have been more preferable than having it partly in and out like
it was. It didn't hurt much per say, it just felt very uncomfortable and
made me feel more helpless and out of control with my life, not to mention
how much more of a slutty kinky whore I was becoming.
He ordered me over to the metal pole with my back facing it. While he was
monkeying around in back adding some sort of cross pieces or such to the
pole, I was standing nude and looking like a very kinky and juicy piece of
meat on the hoof to all those passing by. I did get several smiling stares,
a wink or two and plenty of pointing fingers from both men and women as
they slowly walked on by. I kept cycling from feelings of embarrassment and
humiliation to down right pussy oozing horniness that I literally didn't
know whether I was cuming or going most of the time. Damn, why was I such a
fickled bitch in heat?
Then I felt him begin to bind me to the pole. My waist belt was fastened to
some flat piece of metal that stood a few inches out from the pole. My
collar was attached in the same way but much higher up. These two bindings
kept the main part of my body erect and rigid. He told me to extend both my
arms out to my sides, fully, and horizontally. I wanted to watch him fasten
a leather strap around my upper arms just above my elbow, but my posture
collar prevented me from turning my head more than a few degrees. So I was
depended on my sense of touch and limited peripheral vision to satisfy my
curiosity. My arms seem to be pulled back a little behind me because I
could feel a small bit of strain in my shoulders and a tightness in my
chest as if I were thrusting my chest and boobs out obscenely in front of
me. Which in fact I was.
Padded wrists cuffs where placed on me next and then fasten to another
cross piece. However, this time my elbows were bent so my forearms stood
straight up and perpendicular to my bound upper arms. I must have looked
like I was giving praise to the sun god or something.
The next thing he did was to tell me to spread my legs a little. He bent
down and began to put ankle cuffs on me. I could feel the pole begin to
vibrate through my upper body's fastenings as he again attached another
cross pieces near the base. The collar kept my head from bending, but I
could feel him move my right leg into position so he could fasten my ankle
cuff to this added piece of pipe. And then the same with my left one.
Once again I felt something being attached to the pole about knee high.
When he was done he came in front of me and knelt down before me and out of
my line of sight. That damn collar kept me from seeing anything that was
happening to me.
Then I heard him request me to "Squat". Ok, so he ordered me to. I thought
I was already solidly fasten to the pole and wouldn't be able to move. But
to my surprise I could. It seemed like the attachments had enough looseness
in them that I could freely slide myself up and down the pole.
I slowly lowered myself down to his voice of "lower . . . lower . . .
that's it, keep going . . . slowly . . . lower . . . STOP!"
I quickly felt more leather straps being wrapped around my thighs near my
knees and then pulled wide and tighten in place. My legs were bent so my
forelegs were straight down and perpendicular to my upper legs, just like
my arms were. He then stepped behind me and began grunting, to which I
figured he was tightening all the attachments to keep me in this pose. I
couldn't see myself, but I bet the way my arms and legs were spread wide
and bent I must have looked like the letter "H".
When he finished grunting I tried to move along the pole again. Forget it!
I was held fixed and immobile. I relax my muscles in my body to see how
much I would drop down. Hardly any droop at all. In fact, I found I could
relax a little in this position without too much discomfort. Except for
having my pussy and breasts expose in glaring full view like a slutty
exhibitionist. Which in my fantasies I freely allowed myself the pleasure
of experiencing, but in real life I was far to ashamed to do so.
I felt him gathering my long dark hair in a ponytail and wrapping something
wide around it's base. Then, all of a sudden, this THING appears in front
of my face. Before I could finish saying "What's tha...?!!" he is forcing
this rubber covered O-ring in my mouth and saying "Open nice and wide my
pretty muse."
He pushed it in my mouth and maneuvered it in place just behind my teeth. I
felt the damn thing stretching my jaws to the point of being VERY
uncomfortable. He then took a pair of straps coming from each side of the
ring and took them behind my head and buckled them tightly there. I was now
powerless to use my tongue to remove that damn rubber coated jaw breaker. I
though he was done, but the next thing I see is him pulling on another
strap in front of my face up and over my head. This one is shaped like a
"Y" with the two top ends connect to the front part of the leather strap
holding my "O" ring gag in place. He threads my ponytail through some sort
of ring at the top of it and then buckle that single strap to another one
dangling from the back of the one I feel embedding itself into the back of
my neck. I have seen, and to my everlasting misfortune worn, another gag
harness such as this before. But that one had a rubber ball on it instead
of the "O" ring like this one does. I really hate this type of harness gag
because the two straps running up along my nose makes me look cross eyed
and thus very stupid. But there is one redeeming quality with that ball gag
harness though. I can at least exercise my jaws a little by biting down on
the rubber ball. Not like this "O" ring gag where I can't even do that.
Thus, when he finally DOES takes it off of me, my jaws are going to be
aching twice as long as I try to get my mouth back into working order
again.
Now all that remained was for him to fasten the chin strap to complete this
insidious mockery of my gaping mouth and stupid cross eyed expression. As
he was pulling that last small strap through the roller buckle I tried to
get his attention and sympathy with a meek plea for mercy. But all that
came out was some incoherent, drooling gibberish that made him chuckle and
laugh at me, that fucking asshole!
When he was finished and no doubt very proud of himself he took his finger
and began playing tag with my tongue. Sticking it in and out of my mouth
and trying to get me to go along with his childish and most degrading game.
Well, I didn't like that one little bit. So with what little movement I
still had in my head, I tried to turn, twist and tilt my head out of the
way so he couldn't play his stupid little game with my forced open mouth.
And it worked! I could see him getting frustrate with my meager success at
rebellion. In fact, I took it one step further and purposefully stuck my
tongue out at him and called him an ASSHOLE to boot. Ok, so it sounded more
like "haas ho". But either way, I actually had a moment of satisfying
victory for the first time since I became his token property. But something
inside of me was telling me I shouldn't ought to have done that.
Once more I felt him place another attachment onto the pole and heard him
grunt it tightly in place. He began fiddling with something on the top of
my head harness just in front of my ponytail. Then I felt a couple of
strong jerks on my head harness, and viola. My head and neck were stretched
upwards VERY taught. He readjusted my collar to make it fit better around
my now elongated neck. My pious victory had quickly become a pitiful
defeat. Whatever limited movement I use to have in my head was now
completely gone. My head was like the rest of my body, fixed in place and
totally without movement. My field of vision was limited too, to whatever I
could get by moving my eyes around. And believe me, that wasn't much when
your eyes are only waist high to begin with.
He came around in front of me again and our eyes meet. Once more I tried to
gain some human compassion from him with my most pathetic, distressful look
of beseeching, beckoning mercy. If defiance didn't work, then maybe I could
pull at his heart strings by acting the part of his adorable cooing
submissive. And it did! Or so I thought. He knelt down in front of me and
said "Aweee". He gently started to stroke the side of my tightly strapped
bulging fleshed face and then patted me on the head like a dog. He smiled
and quickly rose to his feet and said to me, "My gosh muse! You look ever
so cute like this. I bet we make a whole lot of money for charity today."
I was pissed. My expression went from meek to anger as I tried to cuss him
up a storm. But again, it all came out garbled. He continued to smile at me
and then bent down to talk to me, "You keep that up and I won't be able to
control my manly yearnings muse. You know how horny and excited I get when
I see a bound woman in distress. So how about a little consideration for my
situations for once? I mean, it's not always about YOU you know. I have
feelings too. So have a heart and think of my situation once and awhile. Ok
muse?" He then winked at me, kissed me on my nose and walked behind me.
That low life rat bastard! Here I am, bound like some Egyptian
hieroglyphic, nude, exposed like some street slut looking for whatever she
can get, can't say a damn thing that doesn't sound like I had a fifth on my
way here. AND I have this damn fence post stuck up my ass. And he wants ME
to cut HIM some slack, give HIM a break and stop being so SELFISH! That low
down piece of . . . Oh My GOSH! What's he doing to me now?
I though the plug he, I mean SHE, stuffed up my bung hole was solid. But it
must have been hollowed because I can feel something bouncing and bagging
around inside of me. Again I can feel more pole vibrations as I guessed
correcting that another attachment was being added to it, and to me!
He fiddled with it. Maneuvered it this way and that way. Grunted and groan
while shaking it from side to side and up and up and . . . Oh shit! He's
forcing that plug further up inside of me. I can't raise myself up and out
of the way either. My eyes go wide with a startled expression and a sharp
moan of displeasure squeaks forth from my useless mouth as I feel his
latest addition to my sleazy display of kinky captivity. Finally, I heard
him sign with success as I no longer felt any more activity inside of me. I
closed my eyes tightly trying to hold back the tears, not from physical
pain, but from the increasing emotional torment he keeps putting me
through. 'When will it end,' I asked myself with a sad heart.
I opened my sad glassy eyes to see him standing in front of me. His hands
were on his hips and another big smile on his smug face that said "Damn! Am
I good, or what?." But I was through fighting him, coaxing him, pleading
with him. My continued long sad stare up at him was genuine. And then he
lost his smile.
He kneeled down before me with a solemn look on his face. For the longest
time he stared right back at me. Then he touched me, and caressed me, all
of me, even that part of me he avoided for so long. Yes, he could be a
gentle and giving lover if he wanted to. And this time he wanted to, just
as much as I wanted to receive it. And I wanted it so badly now. To
experience it in it's complete orgasmic fullness, without holding back
because of guilt, humiliation, or embarrassment. This time I would deny
myself nothing and experience the full orgasmic ecstasy of being his kinky
sex slave, his uninhibited slut, his depraved exhibitionist whore. Right
now I am ready to wear those label with pride if he would give me my much
deserved orgasm. And just as his talented hands were about to push me over
that climatic precipice I heard THAT voice!
"Did I hear the bellowing of a damsel in distress coming from this booth a
moment ago?"
It was HER! Like fingernails on a chalk board it affected us both. As soon
as he heard it, he stopped. And when he stopped, my spiraling climb ceased
to be. I began to tumble out of control and right back into my continuing
state of sexual frustration and emotional inhibitions. Even the anger came
back in all it's intensity too, and directed solely at HER!
But before I knew what was happening, he wrapped a blindfold around my
head. It was one of those sleep mask types that fasten snugly behind one's
head with Velcro and it kept even the tiniest speck of daylight from coming
in. Once again I was prevented from matching that bitchy, whining, dominant
female voice to a physical image.
Oh she was so pathetic with her knowing question of the obvious. Now I
grant you, I really do enjoy it when a dominant woman can control,
humiliate and prolong the sexual gratification of a submissive woman,
especially if it is me. But some dominant women can just rub you the wrong
way. Instead of being a turn on, the whole scene becomes a major turn OFF!
And that is what this woman was quickly becoming to me. Just like that
dildoe inside of me, one major pain in the ass.
"Oh my GOODNESS! You have done such an excellent job in displaying your
little pet in such a revealing and slutty manner. May I be so bold as to
check out your little slave girl for a moment or two?"
'Tell her No! Tell her NO damn you! TELL HER NO!!' I kept saying that to my
darken self in hopes of making some sort of psychic connection with my
owner. Damn it! Stop calling him that! He is NOT my owner! And I am
certainly NOT a slave girl for him to have some strange obnoxious women
play doctor with!
"Why thank you dear sir. I will be very mindful of your pet."
Oh god, not again.
"My, my, my, aren't you such a pretty, pretty thing. The first time we met
I only had a limited rear end look. And what I seen back then I was very
impressed with. But now, with such a prostrated frontal view, I must say I
have not seen the likes of such a VERY beautiful and sexy looking slave
girl like you in a very, VERY long time. I dare say you look to be
something very special my dear, and I am finding myself very envious of
your owner's possession of you."
I then felt a light and electrifying touch on my body. It started on my
breasts and moved on down to my hips and then back and forth along my inner
thighs. OH did that feel good! I have nothing against experiencing HIS
touch on me, other than being blackmailed into it. But there is one thing
about being the recipient of a woman's touch however. They know how to do
it perfectly! And this woman must of had a lot of experience too for I
could feel goosebumps begin to form on my skin as a pleasant chill ran up
and down my spine. Maybe, just maybe I was all wrong about her. I mean,
sometimes when two people meet for the very first time, under unfavorable
circumstances, whatever their first impressions are can be all wrong,
right?
"Oh it's too bad this blindfold and headharness obstructs so much of your
pretty face my dear. But at least I do get see what tender and beautiful
lips you have pretty slave girl."
Ouuu she has such a soft touch. Her fingers glide along my stretched lips
like warm butter. And her breath smells ever so fresh and sweet, and . . .
Oh MY! Her kiss, her lips upon mine, even with this damn gag in my mouth it
felt so good. I hope she does it again, maybe if I wiggle my tongue about a
little like so I might be able to catch her attention for another one,
maybe even a French kiss this time.
"And your mouth looks so wantonly succulent my pretty slave, and your
tongue! Oh that looks so cute the way you wiggle it about like that. Would
you be a dear and stick it out a little more for me? Would you, you very
pretty, pretty thing you?"
Oh it would be my pleasure, Mistress. Now this is what I call a fantasy
come true. Just the right amount of dominance mixed in with a dash of
seduction and then . . . Oh, that must be her finger sliding back and forth
over my tongue. Wait a second, that taste, it's a leather clad finger she
is seductively stroking my tongue with, and deeper and deeper into my mouth
too. Please allow me to stick my tongue out a little bit further for you
Mistress and you can. . . . HEY! What are you doing? Let go you bitch!
"Now that I have a firm grip on your tongue lets see how long it is shall
we? Don't fight me slut or you might damage yourself. Just relax and let me
pull it out as far as it will go. I want to see how long it is. My
goodness! It is a long one too. I can just imagine all the pussy and cocks
it was used upon, you uninhibited horny little slut you."
AHH! She's turning into a crazy woman. 'Stop it! That hurts!' But nothings
coming out of my mouth. She has my tongue stretched out so far that I can't
say anything. I have to tell HIM what she's doing to me, but with her
trying to pull my tongue out by the root I can't even scream.
"Oh? So you don't think you are a horny, pussy dripping, little cum slut
after all huh. Well then, let's just see shall we?"
AHH! She sticking her finger into my pussy and she's not shy about it
either. What happen to her gentle touch? HIS was never as rough as this.
Damn it! How many fingers is she using on me? Get them out of there you
BITCH! Master! Help your slave girl, Master. Please Master, PLEASE!
"Ah HA! Just as I thought. Your sopping wet down there you horny little
tramp. Here, taste it for yourself, you shameless cum oozing whore."
EEWWWW!!! She wiping her fingers on my tongue and I can taste my own sexy
juices. It's one thing to taste another woman's sweet nectar while in the
thrones of passion, but to taste your own secretions when your not even
aroused, EEWWWW!!!!
"You see you dirty little whore! Your nothing but a dripping bitch in heat.
I am tempted to tell your owner that all your good for is to be put on the
street like the rest of those cheap cock sucking whores who are always hot
on the prowl for the next gang bang. Your such a pathetic little cum slut.
And here I thought you were something special when all along you were
nothing but a common fuck hole."
Ahh! Thank god she finally let go. Oh that feels so much better. But yuck!
I can still taste that bitch's leather glove on my tongue. As soon as I get
my tongue back in working order I'm gonna . . . What's that sound? Is that a camera again? . Damn it, it is!
I'm gonna screa....
"Ok muse just relax and let it enter your mouth. That's it, take it all in.
I need to leave you by yourself for awhile. And I certainly can't leave a
prime piece of female flesh like you with both of your holes so engagingly
open like this. I dare say that if I did leave you like this, unchaperoned,
by the time I got back you would be dripping all manners of male and female
ejaculates from them. And that would spoil everything. Just relax my lovely
captive muse, I'm almost done, there! Now that the penis gag is buckled
behind your head all I have to do is put this lock on it, like so, and your
luscious mouth is completely protected from any foreign objects. That's one
hole done and one more to go."
Life's a bitch! Every time I think it's getting better it only gets worst.
Now I have my mouth full of rubber. Yucky, slimy, foul tasting rubber. And
the damn thing is shaped just like a man's cock too with the big probing
head, the long shaft and I can even feel the bulging veins pressing against
my tormented tongue. This is definitely NOT what a confirmed lesbian should
have in her mouth, even as a gag. But there is one meager consolation
though. At least it took away that damn leather taste left from that bitch.
And there's that sound again.
"Here we go muse. Just one more man-hole cover, if you pardon the pun, and
your all done. My goodness, you really are sopping wet down here. But
that's a good thing! For see how easy it is for me to slide this dildoe
inside of you. Well, I know you can't see it. That's just a figure of
speech. But I bet you can feel it though. How long and lumpy it is as it
spreads your delightful nude pussy lips around it's enormous girth so sexy
like this. Mmmmmm, I would love to play with you muse, but I have places to
go, people to see and things to do. So, let me push it all the way in,
there! I hope it wasn't too big for you. What, with you being a lesbian and
all, it only natural that your precious oozing pussy hasn't seen much manly
cock action. But it seems to fit you well, maybe it's a little too big for
you, but it's only for a short while and it's nothing you can't handle.
Just let me wrap these little chains that hold the dildoe inside of you
around your waist and down between your legs and up behind you like so.
Snug them up a bit. And now add the lock and presto! Your chastity is
secured, and held under lock and key. Now, you be a good girl and try to
get some rest while I'm gone, because once I get back the real exciting
part will begin. Take care my precious muse."
Ohhhh why me? WHY ME! It's just one damn thing after another. I feel like
an over stuffed turkey. A plug up ass, another in my mouth and a third in
my pussy. And I am completely powerless to do anything about them. I'm like
a display dummy for one of those kinky sex shops. Oh why did I ever send
those pictures to him? Why did I ever continue to write to him? And why oh
why did I ever write and post those stories in the first place?
Alas, it is far to late to lament over what I did. All I can do now is to
simply bare what is coming and hope, and pray, it doesn't get any worst.
But considering the way my luck has been going so far, I better be ready
for the worst. Maybe I should take his advice and try to get some rest.
When he said the exciting part had yet to come, I know he means it!
Maybe if I try to talk myself into taking it easy. No use in fighting my
predicament now. The way I'm bound I'm not going anywhere. Just relax the
best you can old girl. Blank out your mind and rest. Slow, even, breaths.
That's it, relax, rest, let your mind flow on it's own. Just rest old girl,
just rest.
The next thing I know. I feel someone pinching my nipples and telling me to
wake up. The blindfold was removed so now I can open my eyes and what I see
is him. HIM and his smiling face looking right at me. He asked me if I
slept well and I respond with a sleepy low grade moan. I want to stretch my
limbs, but my body is still bound solid to the display stand. And I still
have that damn rubber penis gag in my mouth, not to mention my pussy plug
too.
He starts to remove the dildoe from my pussy and when it's finally comes
out I swear I heard a little pop. I watched in callous silence as he places
it under his nose, closes his eyes and takes a good long whiff, as if it
were some kind of aromatic Cuban cigar. He then exhales via his mouth
making a very satisfying sound in the process. For a brief moment I think
he is going to make me do the same, smell my own rutting musk. But he moves
the glistening dildoe off to the side, thank goodness.
Then he does something strange. He take my gagged harnessed head in both
his hands and using his two thumbs pushes the center spot of the penis gag.
Immediately I feel something squirt to the back of my mouth and down my
throat. I start to gag a little and hear him say "Easy muse, easy, just let
it flow down your throat and coat your larynx real good. It won't harm you
at all. It's only a little insurance policy for the next, ohhhhh, I would
say four or five days. There you go. All back to normal. Now, let me take
that bad nasty penis gag out of your lesbian mouth."
What did he mean by insurance policy? And what was in that liquid he
sprayed down my throat?
"There now. No more artificial cock for you little lady. But, if you play
your cards right, I might give you the real thing a little later." He then
winked at me as if HE was doing me a favor or something. Well, that made me
very angry. I am a Lesbian not his private cock sucking whore. So I yelled
back 'FUCK YOU'. Only nothing came out. No garbled words, no high pitched
scream, nothing at all! That liquid he forced down my throat did something
to my vocal cords so I can't make any sound. That's what he meant by
insurance policy. But why would he do that to me? What reason could he
possible have for doing . . . WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!
The dildoe that was stuck up my ass began vibrating. Then it started to
move inside of me. First rotating to the left, then to the right. And then
it began moving in and out, up and down. Damn it! It felt like I had a
washing machine's agitator up my ass. Oh why couldn't he have put that damn
animated thing up my hungry pussy hole instead. At least I could have some
satisfaction while being his mounted display dummy now. But NOooooo! He had
to stick it up my ass where the only feeling I get from it was pure
unadulterated humiliation and self-loathing.
When I stared at him with angry crossed eyes, he simply cocked his head
with a smile, patted me on the head and told me to be good. He quickly
rose to his feet and walked off to the side, behind a podium.
When he left me, I could now see in front of me. And what I saw was people.
Lots and lots of people. Men people. Women people. People! People looking
at me. People talking about me. And people pointing at me with hungry
drooling eyes.
I tried to free myself, but my efforts meet with failure. I heard him
banging some sort of gavel on the podium and then saying "The auction will
now begin."
Auction! Am I being sold? He can't do that! He always called me his muse,
his great inspiration in life. He told me he would never sell me, trade me,
or give me away. But he was going to auction me off here and now. WHY?
He continued talking to the crowd and then pointed to something on the
other side of me. It was a large poster resting on a tripod. It had a whole
bunch of words printed on it that I could barely make out. It appeared to
be a table or list of some sorts. I tried hard to focus on it to see what
it said and what he had planned for me.
Well, he wasn't going to sell me after all. Which was a big load off my
mind. But he was going to sell activities to be done to me though. Like;
Fondling my breasts
Massaging and fucking my pussy with a vibrator
Body massage
Sensuous spanking
Boy was I relieved when I read that. I wasn't going to be sold, just
erotically played with for money. Money that would go to a good charity.
It was going to be very hard for me to go through all that, emotionally
speaking. But then I thought, 'If I could let go of my inhibitions for
awhile, then maybe I could enjoy all those lovely things that were going to
be done to me by both men and WOMEN.' Again I turned to the list to see
what else my caring, devilishly cleaver, sweet Master had lovingly in store
for me.
Piercing nipples
Piercing pussy lips
Piercing clit
Piercing of the face; nose, lips, tongue, eyebrows, etc
Breast augmentation - size ??
Pussy licking - quantity 10
Blow jobs - quantity 25
French Maid service for 16 hours
Modeling fetish wear for 16 hours
Modeling bondage wear for 24 hours
Ballerina foot training
Pony-Girl training
Puppy-Dog training
Flogging
Whipping
Complete hair removal
I stopped when I got to tattooing with it's long list of body parts and
horrid names to be permanently inked into my skin.
Oh My GOD! What was he doing? What was he turning me into? I had to get out
of here. To hell with him blackmailing me, exposing me, holding me up to
public ridicule and loosing my job and friends. I'll gladly take all that
in place of him turning me into some kind of kinky sex freak and bimbo! I
have to get out of here right now!
I really started to struggle and yell through my gag, although all that
came out was nothing but heavy breathing. But some people did catch my
persistent meager efforts to free myself. And a few of those actually
looked at me as if they were concerned about my situation. Finally, I had a
chance! If somehow I could get one of them to have me released from my
exhibited captivity then I could easily make them understand that this was
all a mistake. That I didn't consent to any of this. That in fact, I was
being blackmailed into partaking in this perverted act of sexual
degradation by HIM!
Then I saw a woman talking to those people who looked concerned about me.
She was showing them some pictures and pointing at me as if . . . Oh no.
She was the one taking those pictures of me in the first place. No, No, NO!
She is getting those people to smile and laugh at me. She was changing
their minds with those horrid pictures of me. Of me bent over spreading my
ass cheeks and showing off that dildoe in my ass. The same dildoe she is
pointing to right now with her leather gloved hand that is literally
screwing itself into my ass. And all the other pictures too. Of me wearing
the penis gag and the chastity belt with it's . . . leather gloves? Oh my
god. She was the one who almost pulled my tongue out! OH! And she has to be
the one who stuck that dildoe in my ass too. NO! This can't be happening to
me. This has to be a joke or something. YES! A joke! It has to be. Making
my breast bigger would require a doctor and operating room along with those
many body piercings. And all those fetish cloths and bondage gear, he
doesn't have anything as elaborate as that. So this has to be a joke, a
farce, something just for show. It can't be real. It just can't be real!
"Ladies and Gentleman. Before I start the auction I would like to take this
opportunity to thank our distinguished horror hosts, the Wilkensons. For
not only did they provide us with the use of their property for this
charity bizarre, but they also are allowing us the use of their extensively
stocked dungeon and their private clinic, which includes their most capable
and highly trained medical staff. Without their help none of what you see
here on the chart would be possible. How about a round of applause for our
benevolent and most gracious hosts."
Oh my god. It isn't a joke. It's real. He is actually going to do all that
to me.
"And another big "Thank You" must go to our beautiful damsel in distress
here, for volunteering to have done to her all that you wonderful people
will be biding on. For a long time now, this lovely lady has fantasized
about being forcibly turned into a slut, a whore, a big titted bimbo and
fetish sex slave. She has even written stories about it and posted said
wonderfully exciting tales on the internet. Stories that many of you have
no doubt read and have become entranced by, just like me. And today, and
for the rest of this social engagement, this lucky lady will be getting her
hearts desire. She will be completely transformed, right before our eyes
and video cameras, into the kink submissive sex object of her dreams. AND,
what's more, she will remain like this for the rest of her life. Thus,
anyone wishing to rent said object of depraved sexual lust for your
personal or private gatherings any time after this charitable event, please
feel free to call on me. I will be in complete control of this lady's life
from now on. So, in saying that, let the auction now begin!"
I was in a state of shock. I couldn't believe this was happening to me.
What did I do to deserve this? All I did was to write some fantasy stories
and trust a single person with my identity. The next thing I know my life,
my whole identity, is being changed into something that is so exotic and
bizarre as to be totally unbelievable and laughable. But it was true and I
wasn't laughing. Tears were gathering in the corners of my eyes and slowly
rowing down my leather strapped cheeks. Somehow reality and fantasy have
merger together and was now becoming one horrid living nightmare for me.
And I was powerless to stop it in any way possible.
Then I heard him pound the gavel down and voicing the word "SOLD!" I
watched him leave the podium and head for the chart. He began writing a
number corresponding to the person who won out, and then the amount that
constituted the winning bid next to it. Both were on the same line as the
service that had been bided on. In this case it was for "Breast
augmentation" and where it said "size" he put down "DDD". Again, I couldn't
believe this was happening. Someone, who I didn't even know, was going to
make a charitable donation of $30,000 to have the size of my breast
increased to the absurd size of a triple "D". No self respecting woman
would ever have their breasts increase to such a bovine size. The only
women I knew who did such an atrocious thing to their bodies were whores,
sluts and bimbos. But alas, it appeared that by the end of this week I too
was going to be a member of that objectified group of despised and sought
after women.
I began to feel the tears that rolled off my cheeks being matched by the
drops dripping from my aroused pussy. I couldn't help it. No matter how
obscene, repugnant and defiling it was to think about being transformed
into an object, an unfeeling thing, solely for the sexual gratification of
another, it excited me to no end as well. After all, this was my fantasy.
For many years I thought about this, wrote stories about this and even
masturbated myself to glorious orgasms thinking about this. So why
shouldn't part of me be aroused by this too. It seemed only natural.
'HA HA HA HA!' I had to laugh to myself at that surreal oxymoron. To accept
that which was totally unnatural as being natural. But what else could I
do? My future was being laid out right before my eyes and I was helpless to
prevent it. What else could I do but accept it, or go mad in the process of
fighting it while at the same time being forced to perform like a puppet on
a string. What kind of choice was that? A lesser of evils? Either slowly go
mad or become a simple pseudo human entity who's only purpose and function
in life is sex. No worries about the needs of everyday living, just kinky
sex. No goals or aspirations to plan for in life, other than getting laid
in the most perverted, humiliating and pussy oozing way possible. And no
legacy, joy or love to give, other than one really good mind blowing fuck
to whomever was next in line with a pussy, a cock, a whip, or any depraved
sense of sexuality. I was trapped, and it was all of my own doing. Maybe
deep down this is what I really wanted. To find myself in the same
situation that I wrote countless stories about. Maybe this is what my life,
my destiny, was meant to be all along. And maybe, HE was really my muse as
much as I was his. But then again, what choice do I have?
"Now ladies and gentlemen, the next item on the list is Flogging. What is
my bid for a good fifteen minute flogging?"
"I have four thousand dollars. Four thousand dollars for a fifteen minute
flogging. Four thousand dollars going once. Four thousand dollars going
twice. Do I hear FIVE thousand dollars? Come now ladies and gentleman
surely flogging this lovely creature here is worth far more than a measly
four thousand dollars. Come on now people, be generous. After all, it's for
charity."
The End
