Role Playing
F/f, f-self, College, reluctant, B/D, D/S
"Are you sure you don't want to come along?" Becky asked me that night.
I shook my head, hoping she'd stop there. I knew somehow she wouldn't.
"Come on, Holly. It'll be fun. You hardly ever leave the room."
"I've got some revision to do," I said, but she knew I was lying. The exam
period was over, and there was another week before the next semester started.
She was looking at me, a typically disapproving frown on her face. She was
always trying to get me to go out and do things with her. Don't get me wrong. I
liked my roommate. It was just that...
I didn't like going out at all. I didn't drink alcohol, which made me quite
strange compared to the rest of the students. I didn't have that many friends
here, and I'd been very homesick at the start of the year. That had more or less
gone away by now, but I still preferred to be by myself.
Becky, on the other hand, was always out. She'd very quickly made a large circle
of friends here. She'd joined I didn't know how many university societies. She
kept trying to get me involved in them, but the thought of being around so many
people made me quite queasy.
She was still looking at me. "I don't really get that role play stuff anyway," I
said.
"It's easy. You dress up, pretend to be someone else, get given a list of things
to do, and just have a good time."
"I just don't see the point of it, that's all."
"You get to be someone else for a while. Forget all about exams and men and
tutors and jobs and money, and just... be someone else."
"I won't know anyone there."
"I'll introduce you."
I shook my head, running out of arguments. I wasn't going to go with her, and I
was trying to say so without upsetting her. I knew I hadn't worked.
"Well, suit yourself," she said, probably a little more bitterly than she had
intended. "I think I'll be out all night, so you can have the place to
yourself." She smiled, letting me know she wasn't angry with me. "If you want to
bring some stud around here and break the bed, feel free."
I blushed, obviously clearly visible even with my colouring, because she
laughed. "Lighten up, girl," she said. "Enjoy yourself once in a while." She
shrugged, hoisting the bag over her shoulder. It contained her costume for
whatever she was going to dress up as for this role playing of hers. She'd said
she'd change at the venue.
She left, pulling the door closed behind her.
It wasn't that I didn't like her, because I did. She was everything I hadn't
known back home. I was shy then, but I went to a small school and had known
enough people there from childhood that I could manage. But once I came to
university, with al these people, all these new places... It was just easier to
hide in our room.
Plus, going out with Becky was frightening. She was gorgeous, with very long,
jet black hair, very pale skin, deep hazel eyes. She had a figure that caused
men to fall over themselves at her, large breasts, not an ounce of fat. I had
gone to the Union Bar with her once, early on in the term, and all the men had
gone straight for her, ignoring me. She knew she was beautiful as well, wearing
clothes I'd never dream of going out in.
Sometimes I wished I were that confident and easy going, but it just wasn't that
easy for me. It was strange, coming here to a foreign country. There was a lot
of work involved and I didn't want to fail and be expelled. My parents had given
up a lot to get me here.
Sighing, I got up from the bed and walked towards the mirror. Becky's words had
really gotten to me. Perhaps there was something I could do. I looked at my own
reflection. It's not that I was ugly. Compared to Becky I was plain, true. I was
too thin, my breasts too small, my legs too short. I came from Malaysia, but my
mother was Japanese, and I had some of her delicate features. Most Englishmen
couldn't really tell the difference.
There had been one man who had been slightly interested in me. He was on my
course, and we had talked briefly after one lecture. I soon found out he was
only interested in me because he wanted to prove what a liberal he was, going
out with an Asian girl. I didn't want anything to do with him after I learned
that.
Our room was very quiet with Becky gone. I looked around, wondering at what she
said. She'd said it was nice to be someone else for a while, and that I did
understand.
I looked around again. It was quite quiet on our corridor, most of the other
students had either finished their exams and gone home, gone celebrating or were
still studying in the library. I doubted anyone else was here.
Almost trembling, I went up and checked the door. The catch was on. I pulled at
the door, to make sure. It was locked. I started to walk back to my bed, when a
sudden fear took me, and I went back to check again. The door was still locked.
There was a small cabinet next to my bed and I opened it, surprised at just how
much I was shaking. The first shelf was taken up by various bits and pieces,
nothng of importance, but on the second shelf, was a small box. I pulled it out
and opened it up.
It was full of books. I read a lot. As I didn't go out at all, that was one of
my few leisure activities, and the shelves of our room were full of books. Becky
had even let me use hers, save for half a shelf full of her role playing books.
These books here I wouldn't dare put on the shelves. They were... special. Becky
hadn't seen them, I was sure. Some of them I had brought with me, keeping them
very secret from my parents. Others I had mail-ordered. There was a shop in town
that did a mail order service, selling books like these, as well as various
more... practical tools, but I didn't dare order any of them.
I picked up three of my recent purchases. I had ordered them from a catalogue,
based solely on name, and a brief description. What with my exams, and Becky
staying in to study as well, I hadn't had a chance to look at them yet.
Songs of Decadence and Lust. A Rape of Panthers. Castle of Slavery.
All the other books had similar titles. None of them were terribly thick,
printed on poor quality paper and vastly over-priced, but there was no denying
they were incredibly readable, and more than that...
Something in them spoke to me. The dreams I had had after reading some of them,
the feelings that swept through me. It was easy to imagine myself in the place
of the poor women trapped and enslaved by brutal men, and seductive, cruel
Mistresses.
I kept Castle of Slavery, largely because the front cover was a picture of an
Asian looking woman, hanging naked by her wrists in a dungeon. The woman looked
nothing like me, but that did not matter. I shuddered at the sight of the front
cover, and at the words on the back.
I opened to the first page, when a sudden thought struck me, and I rushed to
check the door was still locked. It was, and while I was there, I turned off the
main lights, leaving on only the little bedside lamp. As I passed by the mirror,
I saw my reflection, and the illusion was destroyed. Trembling, I covered it
with a spare bedsheet, and then I laid out on the bed, and began reading.
I was swept up from the first line. The writing style wouldn't win any awards,
but it was fast-paced and exciting, and in no time at all, I was imagining the
scenario, identifying with the beautiful Star Lily, captured by a deranged cult
of demon-worshippers. My heart was pounding as she was molested, naked in a
cell, and I breathed out slowly as she escaped.
By the time she was accosted on the streets of the corrupt town, my throat was
dry and I was completely lost. I was aware for twenty pages that I was feeling
hot, but it was an act of great will to stop reading for long enough to take off
my jumper, leaving me in a thin, white slip and jeans.
When Lily was standing in the city square in a line of other prisoners, waiting
for the mysterious sorceress to arrive, I was terrified, imagining the
oft-mentioned but not yet seen Senyakhaz was just behind me. I actually jumped
at the sound of drunken singing coming from outside.
The chapter break as Lily was bound to a chair, enraptured by Senyakhaz's silky
smooth voice captivated me, but I managed to tear myself away, and slid off my
jeans, tossing them idly into a corner. Normally I was very neat and tidy, but
now I could hardly care. My slip and panties were clinging to me, and I was
aware of a slowly rising heat coming from behind my legs. I could almost magine
Seynakhaz standing before me, reaching out one long, porcelain arm, to caress my
helpless face.
I had no particular desires towards women - my few brief relationships had all
been with men - but I had tried several varieties of these books and while the
ones with men dominating women, or women dominating men had been interesting,
none of them had captivated me like the lesbian tales. It was as if, in the
books, I was someone else, not boring Holly with no friends and no social life,
but a helpless slave girl to powerful and dominant forces.
I returned to the book, but my heart was pounding and my vision swimming. I
re-read the same paragraph three times - 'Senya reached out to the helpless
girl. However much Lily squirmed, she could not escape the touch of that
long-finger, red-nailed hand. Nor did she want to.'
I could not take any more. I got up and went to my underwear drawer. There was
very little adventurous in there. I rarely wore bras, my small frame not really
needing them, and I wasn't wearing one now. Most of my panties were plain cotton
and white, but I had one red pair. They weren't particularly skimpy or daring,
but they were the best I had. I picked them out, and a thin belt as well.
The shop I mail ordered the books from sold bondage gear as well, but I had not
even thought once about buying them. Books were one thing, and, anyway, this
wasn't really me. Plain, boring Holly with no friends wouldn't tie herself up
and imagine she was being tormented and raped by an evil sorceress. This was
Star Lily, the helpless captive; or the slave girl Miria kept prisoner by the
amazons; or the spoiled noblewoman Tarilanna raped and enslaved by the savage
Panther Girls.
I looped the belt around my thin ankles, pulling it tight and winding it around
and between until it was secure. I tried to kick out, and couldn't. I could
untie myself of course, without much effort, but it was all part of the
illusion. Star Lily could not free herself from the metal chains that wrapped
her, and nor could I.
Then the panties. I moved my hands around behind my back, placed the wrists
inside the leg holes over and over, until they were tight. Again, I could
untangle myself, but not instantly, and without anything more sophisticated (and
embarassing to purchase) this was the best I could do.
I lay face down on the bed, flexing my bonds tentatively, imagining the evil and
beautiful sorceress standing above me, wondering always if she would choose to
caress me into ecstacy, or torture me to death.
My breathing was harsh and staccato, my heart pounding. I closed my eyes, and
knew that around me was the dark torture chamber, filled with implements of
agony. The manacles hanging from the wall, the whips and lashes laid out,
spikes, brands. Outside the door were Senyakhaz's deranged followers, whom she
could summon, and order them to rape me. That thought filled me and Lily with
terror. We were anxious to do anything to avoid that terrible fate.
Slowly at first, I began to rub myself against the bed, knowing of course that
it was a cold and hard, bloodstained dungeon floor. Senyakhaz could see this
pathetic attempt to slake our lusts, and we could hear her sultry laughter,
knowing that she held ultimate power over us.
The sound of the key turning in the lock filled us with terror. Had she ordered
in her followers after all? The door opened.
"Please," we called out. "Please, mercy."
"What the...?" said Becky.
I started, the illusion broken. Star Lily the beautiful prisoner was gone, and
in her place was poor, boring Holly.
Who had just been caught tied up, half-naked, masturbating by her room mate.
I tried to say something, but I could barely squeak. Intense embarrassment
always made it hard for me to speak cleary and I had never known anything as
embarrassing as this. She said she would be out all night! I would never have
dared otherwise... I wailed softly.
The door closed, and I heard the catch click shut. I should have been trying to
tear myself free, come up with some explanation, but I was simply terrified. I
could not believe this had happened. How could I look at her again? What must
she think? She must think me some kind of... of... pervert.
"Well," she said, from right next to me. "I wasn't expecting this."
I buried my head in the bed, actually sobbing.
"Castle of Slavery," Becky said. "Hmm..." She laughed. I could not believe this.
"Holly... this is... Hmm."
I felt her touch the panties wound around my wrists. "I'm sure you could have
done better than that," she said. "Wait there."
I didn't hear that properly, and it wouldn't have made any sense to me if I
could. I was simply terrified. I would be thrown out of university, be sent
home, have to explain to my parents what had happened... She said she would be
out all night!
"Tell me if you want me to stop," she said, and I thought I could detect real
concern in her voice. I daren't. I couldn't say anything. I couldn't bring
myself to look at her. She pulled my hands upwards. She could see my red panties
as well. Suddenly, I stiffened as something cold slid over my hands, higher up
than the wound panties. There was a click, and then another one. I tried to pull
them apart, but they were held together firmly.
"There," she said. "That's better. Holly, are you all right?" Again, I didn't
say anything, pushing my head further into the bed. "Ah well. Hardly anyone
showed up in the end. A few of us went to the pub and then we just wandered off.
I'd thought I'd come back and try and convince you to go out for a drink with
me, but this..."
She laughed, a happy laugh, but in my mind I interpreted it differently. It was
the mocking, powerful laugh of the sorceress Senyakhaz. My thoughts seemed to
slow.
"I'll be quick," she said. "I'm a fast reader. I'll let you out if you want me
to, but... I have a feeling you won't." I knew she was smiling. "Just wait
there."
And I did. The fear was fading, to be replaced by a fear entirely different. I
was bound now, securely bound with metal, precisely in the way the lovely Star
Lily was. I was helpless, awaiting the return of my cruel captor, wondering what
horrible fate she would deliver to me, afraid and excited at the same time.
I lifted my head slightly, but did not try to move otherwise. I could barely
breathe, my body shaking with excitement and fear, both of them mixed together
in a delicious cocktail of emotion.
Slowly, ever so slowly, as if from a long way away, I heard the quiet rustling
of pages turnings.
"Well," said a voice, a very alien voice, that seemed out of place in this
dungeon. "That was interesting. I had no idea that's what rocked your boat,
Holly. Lucky for both of us, I had a few... appropriate props for my costume. I
don't think anyone expected me to put them to this sort of use."
I swallowed, feeling the imminent return of my captor.
Before me, there was the sound of a throat being cleared. Then, "look up," said
an imperious voice. "Look up at your Mistress."
I did, and I gasped and the beauty and the terror I saw before me.
Holly knew that it was Becky, dressed up for her role playing event, but to the
lovely bound Star Lily, it was the terrifying and dominant Senyakhaz, sorceress
and dominatrix and tyrant.
She was stunning, her powerful body ill-concealed by a low-cut black basque, her
large breasts only barely held in by the faintest of threads. Around her long
neck was a silver necklace, some arcane symbol brushing at the top of her
cleavage. Around her loins was the merest strip of black cloth, trimmed with
gold, dangling both in front and behind, and held in place by a thin belt. Her
boots were jet black, rising to just below her knees, the height of their heels
making her already impressive figure loom all the more above the helpless
prisoner. Tucked into her belt, was a short, thin crop. It was this item that
the powerful sorceress drew and held carefully, toying with it.
"Did you think you could come to my city," she purred, "and seek to overthrow me
without my knowledge?"
I said nothing, not from any obstinence, but from paralysis before such beauty.
I was captivated by her. I knew that she was evil, utterly so, and yet I could
not help the way I was feeling. I have never known such strong desire towards
anyone before, least of all another woman.
She flicked out with the crop, and it touched the back of my upper thigh. It was
merely the lightest of touches, but it made me cry out as if in agony. I knew it
was merely the promise of more tortures to come.
"I asked you a question, my pretty Lily," she said. My heart jumped at the sound
of my name pronounced in such sultry tones.
"No," I sobbed, the word almost too quiet to be audible. "No," I said again.
She struck me again, harder than last time, but it stung against my soft thigh,
further up this time, almost at the curve of my buttock. "You will call me
'Mistress Senya,'" she ordered. "You are my prisoner, lest you forget. You are
dependent on my mercy."
"Please, Mistress Senya," I sobbed. "Please, have mercy."
"You were so proud before," she continued. "So arrogant. Come to overthrow me
and end my evil. You are not so proud now, are you? Crawling half-naked on a cot
in my dungeon."
"Mercy, Mistress Senya," I begged. What she said was true. I had believed I
could depose her, but here I was, her prisoner.
"Perhaps," she said. She stroked my back slowly, sensuously. I tingled with the
feel of her caress, powerful and magnetic through the thin shift she still
permitted me to wear. "You will have to convince me to show mercy, pretty Lily."
"Whatever you wish, Mistress," I said. "You can do whatever you wish to me."
She lashed me again, this time squarely on my buttocks. My flimsy undergarment
provided little barrier, and I threw my head back in an anguished scream. She
grabbed my hair, keeping my head bent back like that, my body curved painfully.
"I already know that," she said. "I can do whatever I wish to you. The question
is, what will you do for me?"
"Anything, Mistress Senya," I panted. It was hard to breathe, bent back as I
was, but my trembling came not from pain.
She was evil. I had seen the effects of her sadistic rule of this town. She
allowed her demented followers full rein to rape and torture and murder the
innocents. She brought those she desired to this dungeon for hideous rituals.
She worshipped a monstrous demon and fed him with sacrifice and agony.
But she was beautiful, and powerful, and she held me captive and my treacherous
body was responding to her. I felt, for the first time, a dampness between my
legs, and I moaned with desire and humiliation.
"Will you kiss my feet?" she asked.
"Yes, Mistress," I sobbed.
"Then let us have you on the floor where you belong."
She rolled me off the cot, and I landed roughly on the cold, hard, stone floor.
It was not a long fall, but with my hands bound as they were, I could not break
my landing.
Gently, she touched her boot to my face. I could smell the desire on her,
something pungent and powerful and frightening. She nudged at me again, harder
this time.
Straining, I reached out and brushed the tip of her boot with my lips.
"Kiss it," she ordered. "Properly."
Suddenly, a part of Holly returned to me. What was I doing? This was... this was
crazy. Imagining these things, play acting as if they were real. We weren't in a
dungeon. This was our room, and this was something we'd regret later.
My body shook, the warmth between my legs growing. I'd never felt anything like
this before.
What had Becky said earlier?
You get to be someone else for a while. Forget all about exams and men and
tutors and jobs and money, and just... be someone else.
"Holly," she said. "Are you all right?"
I didn't say anything.
"Look," she said. "I'm sorry. I just thought this was... never mind."
I swallowed, closing my eyes, imagining the dungeon around me, creating the fear
of rape and torture and execution - a nice comfortable fear that I knew would
not happen. But it felt good imagining that it might.
"Mistress Senya," I cried. "Please, mercy. I will do anything you want."
There was a long pause, and then I, as Holly, began to wonder if the illusion
was gone, the moment shattered. Then, I heard Becky exhale softly, and I knew
that she was smiling.
"Then kiss my boot, my pretty little Lily," she ordered.
I did so, fully this time, passionately, brushing it with my tongue, nibbling at
it, shamelessly humiliating myself before this evil, monstrous woman.
"Tell me what a slut you are, slave," she said.
"I am a slut, Mistress," I said, my heart racing. Parts of Holly were rising up
and down in my mind. She was elated, free. She had never felt anything like this
before.
I buried her there, wallowing in her own bliss. I was Star Lily now, a prisoner
and a slave, and my life depended on this evil woman.
"I am your slut, Mistress," I whispered.
"Up on your knees."
I obeyed. It was not an easy task, my hands bound like that, but I rolled over
and forced myself up, so that I was kneeling before her, my face level with her
waist. I kept my head bowed submissively, shaking uncontrollably. My mouth was
dry with fear.
I could not dare to look at her. I knew that she was beautiful, and that my body
was responding helplessly to her presence, but more than that. I was afraid that
I would look up into her eyes, hoping to find some hint of mercy, of forgiveness
for me, and that I would find none.
I swallowed again. My throat was burning.
"Water," I rasped. "Please, Mistress Senya. Please... some water."
"Water? Well of course, my pretty Lily." I did not like the cold triumph in her
voice, but I could do nothing. She left me and, sickeningly, I found myself
yearning for her, needing her touch and her caress. I squirmed uncomfortably,
the bonds rubbing against my skin, my loins burning with unslaked desire.
What was happening to me? I had never known anything like this before. Never.
How could the act of being bound and submissive seem so... right to me?
She returned to before me, and I was ashamed to realise my heart leapt at her
return.
"Raise your head, my pretty," she ordered. I did so, tentatively, slowly. She
was smiling, only barely visible in the dim light of the dungeon, the shadows
giving a cruel look to her beautiful features. Her large, shapely breasts were
rising and falling with her deep breaths, straining at the tight basque that
held them.
In one hand she was holding a glass. There was a light sloshing coming from
within.
"What will you do for this water, pretty Lily?" she asked me.
"Anything, Mistress Senya," I breathed.
"Will you kiss me?"
My heart jumped. "Yes, Mistress," I said, trying to sound wretched, trying to
hide my excitement. It was clear that I failed.
She held up the glass and took a slow sip. "Lovely and cool," she said. Slowly,
in a very regal manner, knowing that she held all the power over me, she
extended her left hand, red painted nails pointing directly at me.
"Kiss my hand," she ordered.
I reached up forwards, brushing the tips of her nails in the same manner I had
her boot. She pushed her hand forward slightly, and I kissed her forefinger.
Slowly, she slid it between my thin lips, and into my mouth.
I lapped at that digit with my tongue, some small saliva rising in my mouth. I
imagined the image of myself, kneeling half-naked, kissing and caressing the
finger of the most evil woman I had ever known, and all for a drink of water,
but I did not care. Mistress Senya had awoken something new within me, and, evil
or not, I belonged to her now. I could not dare resist her.
She slowly withdrew her finger from my mouth and I reached up after her. She
held out the glass of water, just above me. I strained up to reach it, and her
other hand, the one I had been worshipping and licking, curled around my head.
I gasped with shock as she tightened a fist into my hair, holding me firmly. Her
eyes locked onto mine as she moved the glass earer me, and tipped it slightly.
I cried out with shock as the cold water cascaded onto my chest. My slip was
soaked instantly, sticking to my sweat-covered body. The cold touch against the
warmth of my skin shocked me. My nipples rose instantly, hardening and I knew
they would be clearly visible through the thin garment.
A single drop trickled down across my belly, and over my waist. I held my
breath, trembling. I felt sick. My Mistress!
Still holding my head back, she knelt down beside me, looming over me. She held
the glass briefly over me, and I knew what was to come, but I could do nothing
about it.
In one movement, she tipped the rest of the water onto my groin. My panties were
drenched, the water rushing into myself, caressing the warm and burning lips of
my sex.
She dropped the glass, but I didn't notice. I was kneeling there, shivering with
the cold, and with my own desire, my mouth burning with thrist, my body burning
with something else entirely.
She was evil! I wanted to scream. She was monstrous! She would torture me,
sacrifice me.
Part of my mind cleared, and I realised that the most evil thing Senyakhaz would
do to me was make me want to do whatever she said, to make herself my Mistress
Senya.
She pushed me to my back, roughly. I fell. She climbed above me, straddling me.
She was evil.
I wanted her.
"Pretty," she panted. "Small breasts, but pretty."
Her hand slid inside my slip, caressing my tummy, sliding her sharp fingernail
up across my skin, to reach my breast. She squeezed my hard nipple painfully,
and I cried out, tears rising in my eyes. She tightened her grip, and I shook,
my body arching beneath her.
She withdrew her grip and reached down to my waist, pulling up the hem of my
sodden slip, peeling it from my wet skin, forcing it up over my head, leaving my
upper body naked and open to her. She twisted the slip, forcing it into my
mouth. I gagged at the taste of the wet fabric, damp with both the water and my
own fear-induced sweat.
My mouth filled tightly, she set to work on my breasts, caressing and flicking
them. They were small compared to her own voluptuous bosom, but she seemed able
to find and torment every part of them.
She straightened herself, stretching high over my writhing body. She was still
straddling my waist, the strength of her thighs trapping my bound legs. Throwing
her head back, I watched as her long, raven hair soared around her head, seeming
to dance in the faint light.
She was so beautiful. My heart sang for her. My body lusted for her.
She was evil.
I wanted to scream, but the gag of my own clothing choked the anguished sounds I
was making. I could not even make a sound to express my pain.
She set to work removing her basque swiftly, almost tearing at the bindings,
desperate to disrobe. Finally, she pulled it from her magnificent upper body and
casually threw it aside, kneeling topless above me.
She then pounced upon me, kissing and licking and nibbling at my neck and
shoulders, drawing her long, wet tongue across my cheek, heedless of my muffled
wimperings.
"My pretty Lily," she panted. "My pretty slave Lily."
I was her slave...
Then another realisation came to me.
She thought I was pretty.
My heart leapt as such praise. Mistress Senya thought I was pretty. I realised
the shame inherent in that joy, but I could not stop myself. Mistress Senya
thought I was pretty.
"My pretty little slave," she panted again.
Her nipples brushed against mine, and I shook with the surge of electricity that
passed through me. I was shaking uncontrollably, straining violently against my
bonds, kicking out and upwards, pulling at the metal cuffs that held my hands
together.
But there was nothing I could do. I could not escape. Mistress Senya had bound
me too tightly for that. I was utterly dependent on her to slake the burning in
my sex, and gagged as I was, I could not even tell her just how much I desired
that release.
She kissed my breast, lapping the hard nipple with her wet tongue, and I almost
swooned with the sensation. How had I never known anything like this was
possible before? How had I not imagined I could find such joy in the bound
embrace of one so cruel and evil?
Suddenly, she bit down painfully on my breast. I screamed into my thick gag,
nausea filling me. I knew she had drawn blood.
"Just a reminder, my pretty slave," she hissed, and she pulled back, "of just
who is Mistress here."
As if there were any doubt.
She pulled the gag from my mouth, and I breathed a great gust of air into my
ravaged body. My throat still burned with thirst, but that was by far the least
of the many fires that raged within my helpless body.
The utterly sodden slip pulled over my head, tight at the back of my neck,
Mistress Senya then bent over me again. One hand grabbed my hair, and she pulled
my head up, so that my mouth was just below her round breast.
"Worship me," she hissed. "Am I not your Goddess?"
Eyes closed, full of sick despair, I reached up and began to kiss her breast.
"Lick me," she moaned, her voice high and breaking, passionate moans coming from
her.
I did as she ordered, licking and gently kissing her breast, taking her sharp
nipple into my mouth and moistening it with the little water in my mouth.
"My pretty Lily," she moaned. "My pretty little slave."
She transferred my hungry and obedient mouth to the other breast, and I
performed the same submissive and shameful duties there.
Her hands roamed inside my damp hair, down my back, rubbing and scratching and
claiming every part of me. I heard her moan, and cry out, and call my name.
Then, after a long while, she pushed me down, and stood up, her legs astride me.
Deliberately, she undid the thin belt that held the scant cloth around her
waist, and dropped it to one side.
"Pleasure me quickly, little Lily," she ordered, reversing her position,
kneeling down over me, and thrusting her groin onto my face.
Her smell was one of potent arousal. It was intoxicating. I had never known
anything like it before. I opened my mouth, and began to lick her, slowly at
first, inexpertly, shamefully. Her finger clamped tightly over my erect nipple
and she began to tease me slowly, and I returned to work, more passionately this
time.
I knew that she was a monster, and that she was forcing me to this. She had
broken me with desire and domination. All thoughts of my mission to save this
city ended, and I was resigned to life as a slave to this beautiful, monstrous
woman.
Her nub was hard and stiff, and I set to work on it, caressing it with my
tongue, my mouth no longer dry, moistened by the liquid of her desire. I nibbled
her lightly, kissed her reverently, worshipped her utterly, pleasured her to the
best of my inexperienced abilities.
She abandoned her tormenting of my nipples, and her hand slid lower across my
belly, into the sodden and sticky fabric of my panties, brushing against the
lips of my innermost part.
Above me, her body was shaking, her thighs trembling from their position behind
my head. I too was filled with passion, yearning for her to allow me release.
She was only lightly touching me, her fingers brushing around the edges of my
sex, but it was agonising. I so wanted her to thrust her fingers inside me, and
stroke me to shameless ecstacy.
I could not voice these desires, and so I expressed them the only way I could,
working even harder on bringing her to the same pinnacle I prayed she would
permit me.
"Oh!" she cried. "Oh, Lily! Oh, my sweet slave! Oh Lily!"
Her cries grew louder, and more intense. I worked harder, faster.
"Oh, Lily! Lily!
"Oh, Holly!" she screamed, her body shaking, arching back, thrusting up and down
over my face.
There was a long pause, during which she was completely still, during which my
heart pounded louder than I thought possible.
Then she rose from me, standing up above me.
"Mistress," I asked, my voice little more than a squeak. She knew what I wanted,
just from that one word. She had to.
She said nothing.
"Mistress," I pleaded again.
Her face darkened.
She picked up the crop she had brushed me with idly before, that had been
discarded in the height of her passion. She flexed it slowly. "I am Senyakhaz,"
she said, sternly. "This city belongs to me, and so do you, my little Star Lily.
You have no right to ask me for anything."
She flexed the crop again.
I cried out as it struck my breast, landing squarely on my damp, hard, teased
nipple. The impact stung and burned. She struck me again, just below my small
breast this time, drawing a red line across my skin.
"Mistress!" I called out. "Please!"
She did not reply, lashing out at me again, and again. No part of me was safe
from the onslaught of her crop. She struck my tits, my belly, my legs. I tried
to roll out of the way, to squirm away from her, but she was relentless. I cried
out for mercy, and I sobbed with pain, but Mistress Senya said nothing.
Her calm was gone. Before, she had been cold and imperial, secure in her
ultimate mastery of me. Now, she was furious, striking at me indiscriminately.
She did not spare me a single look, or a single scarcastic remark to recognise
my helplessness. She simply hurt me.
In my struggles, I rolled over onto my front, thinking that might do something,
but she only began to whip my arse. The thin and damp fabric of my panties was
no protection at all, and I was soon screaming.
"Mistress!" I screamed, again and again, until my throat was sore.
Finally, she was finished, tossing the lash aside. She rolled me over to my
front, and stood there above me, naked save for her boots, her body heaving with
each breath she took. There were tears in my eyes, a deep throbbing in my sex.
My lashing had not reduced my arousal. On the contrary, it had only increased
it.
"Mistress," I sobbed, crying pitifully.
She wrenched the sodden folds of my slip back over my head, and forced them into
my mouth again, gagging me. I tried to spit them out, but she struck me a
ringing blow to the side of my head. I was crying silently, huddled pathetically
in my bondage.
Once she was sure I was gagged to her satisfaction, she picked me up, easily, as
if my weight were negligible. She laid me on a cot at the corner of the room,
and laid down there next to me. She rested her head next to mine, trapping my
body against the wall, and then, she went to sleep.
I lay there in utter misery, so near to her, her body warm against mine. I was
damp, my every muscle aching, my sex throbbing with an arousal more potent than
anything I had ever known. I had given myself over to this evil woman that I had
sworn to defeat. I had called her 'Mistress', I had acknowledged her superiority
to me.
She had broken me.
And now I lay helpless there, crying to myself, both sickened and upset and
pained, unable to move, the warm body of the evil woman who had done this to me,
asleep beside me.
It was a very long and painful night for me. I couldn't sleep at all. My body
would not let me. I could simply stare at the darkness of the ceiling, and feel
the beautiful Star Lily fade away, one agonised breath at a time.
What would Becky think of me when the morning came? Something had taken over
both of us this night. Something wonderful and terrifying and arousing, but in
the morning...
She would regret this, I was sure. She said she had been to the pub before
coming home. She must have been drunk. This would be no different from a drunken
one night stand, something to be regretted and avoided in the future.
Part of me wept at the thought that my friend would never look at me the same
way again. Another part of me sobbed at the idea that we would never do this
again. She had performed the role of Senyakhaz so well, that in my mind she had
become Mistress Senya, and I had become Star Lily.
Finally, she stirred, and rose. Some daylight was coming through our thick
curtains, enough to see by. I lay there, as silently and as invisibly as I
could. If it weren't for the bonds that still held me, I would have run away by
now.
"Oh, my God," Becky whispered. "Holly, what did we...?"
She paused, and looked at me. I could not speak, but my eyes said everything
that needed to be said. She returned to the bed, and gently pulled out my gag.
I tried to say her name, but my throat was too dry, and I was too ashamed. I
could not say anything.
"Shush," she said, kindly. Then, she bent low over me, and kissed me.
I was shocked, and it took a moment before I realised I was responding, kissing
her back as passionately and as intently as I could. She pulled back, and
smiled.
Her hand slid down and peeled the fabric of my sodden panties from my groin.
Then, it gently caressed the lips of my sex, before she pushed two fingers
inside.
My arousal had faded with the long sleepless night, but the memory of Becky as
Mistress Senya was enough to rouse me to desire again very soon. In no time at
all, I was bucking and writhing, biting my lip as hard as I could to keep from
screaming.
I had never...
Oh, God!
I have never imagined anything like...
Oh, God!
Oh, God!
It was only when I collapsed, utterly drained beyond beilef, that Becky untied
me, unlocking the handcuffs she had bought as part of her role-playing costume,
and untying my ankles. I stretched my protesting muscles and stripped away the
sticky slip and panties. I had no shame about appearing naked before her, not
any more. She had seen me as naked of spirit, not just of body.
Naked, I fell into her arms, and kissed her.
"Well," she panted, afterwards. "I had no idea you were into that sort of thing,
Holly." A wicked smile crept over her face. "I had no idea I was into that sort
of thing, either."
She picked up the book where it had been casually discarded at some point during
the night before. "'Castle of Slavery,'" she read. "Hmm..." She handed it back
to me.
Gingerly, I opened up my cupboard and pulled out the box, intent on stuffing it
back in quickly, but Becky stood over me.
"My," she breathed, huskily. "That's a lot of books." She reached out and picked
one from the top.
"I think," she said, "that we'll have a lot of role playing to do from now on."
My knees buckled.
The End
