The Muse Trilogy

This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.

                             "The Muse Trilogy"
                    three short stories of a common theme

                                 by Musker
                  Dedicated to story tellers and their Muse

                             "The Muse Trilogy"
                                (Story One)
                                 "E-mail"


Oh god it hurts. It feels like every muscle in my body is aching something
terrible. Ohhhh, how do I get myself into these situations?

Oh NO! This is not my fault. This is HIS fault! He is responsible for my
present predicament. Not me! But pointing fingers isn't going to be of much
help now.

Come on girl flex those muscles. You still have a little room to do that.
The more you flex the less likely they are to cramp up on you. Oh but it
hurts so much. Come on, keep doing it. The last thing you need now is a
muscle spasm.

Ohhhh that's better, not much, but a little. At least for the next ten or
so minutes.

Yes! HE is to blame for this. I know he told me not to, and he even gave me
several good reasons why I shouldn't. But HE was also the one who sent me
that damn story too. I wonder if he planed this all along? Hell, how could
he? He doesn't even know her. But damn it! This isn't my fault!

He knew what those stories did to me, making me so hot and wet. Ok, so I
asked him to send them to me, even begged him too. Hell, I even tried to
barter for them with some of my sexy cheesecake pictures and kinky stories
of my own. But I only did it to get him to write to me more. Kind of play
with him a little, tease him a bit, and get HIM all wet and horny like he
did me. After all, he's a guy and guys get off on looking at and reading
about sexy women like myself. How was I suppose to know he had better
control over his libido than I did.

But he really got me hooked on those stories though. It's like he was
shooting drugs straight into my veins, that damn pusher. Yea, that's what
he is, a drug pusher. Except he does it with words and kinky stories that's
all! Oh God, I'm rambling again and not making any sense.

But it is true. He would send me stories at work, in E-mail. I would read
them and get excited and aroused. Then for the rest of the work day I would
be all horny and sexually frustrated just thinking about them until WHAMO!
One hell of an orgasm when I got home. Sometimes I couldn't even make it
home. I had to rub myself in the ladies room at work. God, one day I got so
scared when someone mentioned they smelled a musky scent in a meeting I
went to. It was a good thing one of the guys wore some weird after-shave
that day.

But that's how he trapped me. And good old stupid me told him exactly how
to do it too. And I didn't even know it. Damn, I must really be a dumb
bimbo just like in those stories.

So he wrote me more stories, personal stories. He weaved a spider's web
with them and caught me with it. I told him how I had this crush on this
lady at work. His next story to me had me being tarted up and sexually
dominated by this same woman. Oh it was such a good read too! It seemed so
real, so true to form and so arousing. I was so excited and anxious after
reading it that each time I seen her at work it made wish with all my heart
and soul that it could become a reality.

It's amazing how turned on I get with fantasies of being dominated and
controlled by some pompous arrogant woman who forces me into becoming her
personal bimbo sex slave. I would never do it in real life though. Well,
maybe, just once. I met this woman named Connie on the internet and we
began sending E-mail back and forth to one another. She told me she was a
Dom and I told her a little about my submissive fantasies. We started to do
a little pretending online and when that seem to click between us, she
began coaxing me into trying it for real. That's also when she gave me a
pet name that she exclusively called me. She called me "her little twit",
and I kind of liked it. It's just fantasy so no big deal. So, anyway, I
finally agreed to it, to a real session. And we did it. And I liked it too.
But one thing did kind of bothered me though. Connie, I mean Mistress
Connie, seemed to be very, how should I say it . . . extreme?

After another session Mistress Connie told me I had potential. Heck, I knew
that. After all, I'm a damn good-looking woman. Long dark hair, great
figure, "C" cup breasts and a regular Diva when I get dressed up. She just
wanted to push things faster than I wanted to go, that's all. When she told
me that I should get my nipples pierced, I kind of freaked. Or at least got
scared enough to back out of the whole situation.

A short time later HE comes along with his stories. Those same stories that
juiced me up and made me ooze like a wanton bitch in heat. It was like he
was fucking me right through my mind, playing with my fantasies, making
them more personal and more real until I really needed it. I mean, I needed
it bad!

Oh I masturbated to them. But how long could that go on? I was finding
myself wanting them, no, needing them more and more. Each time I came to
work in the morning I would first see if he sent me anything. When he
didn't, I became frustrate and disappointed. And when he did, I still ended
up frustrated and disappointed, sexually and because they weren't real. He
had me hooked and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it either.

Although I call myself bisexual, I'm really into women more. So I though
about Connie again. I called her in hopes that I might give it another
shot. Ok, HE got me so fucking horny I needed to act out my submission
again, for real, and Connie was the only one I could trust.

Anyway, when I called her up, she gave me the riot act. I was no good! I
was a pathetic wannabe, with no guts! She would never waste her time with a
worthless piece of crap like me ever again! Connie told me that she had a
new sub and that I wasn't worthy to lick the bottom of her sub's shoes.

I was crushed. But somehow I found the courage to ask her if she could
refer me to another female Dom that she might know. Again, I got it good. I
was so bad that I wasn't worth the trouble for her to recommend one to me.
Besides, she though too highly of her Dom friends to risk sending a
good-for-nothing little twit like me to them to begin with. Before, I liked
it when she called me "her little twit", but now, I found it very hurtful.
Then she hung up on me.

I ended up crying my eyes out. And then several minuets later I masturbated
myself to one hell of an orgasm. God I felt so ashamed, so humiliated and
so fucking good!

Anyway, I told HIM about my conversation with Connie. He said it was a good
thing that it happened like that. He said Connie was obviously hurt and
jealous of me. And if she did take me back she probably would do some
really nasty stuff to me, to make me pay for her hurt. He told me to just
stay away.

It sounded like good advice. When I was with Connie she did seem to be very
mean and vindictive at times. So I took his advice and stayed away. But you
know what that SOB did? He sent another story to me with Connie in it. He
even used a picture I sent him to use as inspiration in another story he
was writing for me. That bastard was fucking with me, with my mind, and my
desire to be dominated and controlled by a strong willed woman. To be made
into a blonde bimbo, a big titted, ass swinging, bubble gum chewing, fuck
toy who got off on bondage and humiliation. I couldn't believe it! And yet,
I did believe it. It was the best pussy diddling orgasm I ever had after
reading it. But then I found myself wanting more. I couldn't shake it. I
wanted more! Not stories and masturbation. But the real thing. I even
wanted, god help me, Connie.

What could I do? I was even dreaming about it, about her, in my sleep. I
had to try one last time. If Connie laugh at me and degraded me over the
phone, then at least I would know that I had tried and could go on from
there. I also knew that I would probably have one heck of finger fucking
orgasm afterwards. So I did it. And surprise! She said yes!

I was frighten, thrilled, and so turned on when I heard her accept me over
the phone that I couldn't stop rubbing my clit right through my slacks and
panties. I sheepishly informed her that I was still a bit frighten of going
too far, and if she didn't mind, maybe she could play out the first part of
a story line I had, HIS story. Again, I was amazed and excited when she
said yes to that too. She told me to E-mail the story to her so she could
see what was involved. And then we set up a time for my session with her. I
was so happy that I kept on thanking her throughout our entire phone
conversation. When I finally did hang up, I had TWO orgasms right in a row!

And now here I am, at Connie's dungeon. I am bound and gagged just like
that picture I sent HIM. And to be honest, I even look a little like that
bound girl in the picture too.

I am completely nude, except for a pair of red hot fuck me pumps. My arms
are bound behind my back with thin leather straps at wrists and elbows. My
elbows are practically touching and forcing my breasts out in front of me
like "twin torpedoes" like HE said in the story. I am kneeling down on a
folded up towel with both my legs doubled up behind me, calf to thigh. A
single thin strap keeps my legs doubled up like this as well as tightly
pressed together into one immobile mass.

I am held to a post in a very erect kneeling position by two more straps.
One goes completely around my hips, the heels of my red stilettos and then
pulled tightly around the post to be buckled tightly there. Not only does
this strap hold my lower torso to the post, but it also forces my pointed
heels to dig deeply into my fleshy round butt.

The second strap is part of a weird gag arrangement. Picture a large wooden
egg with it's big slightly rounded bottom mounted on one end of a short
stick. Then the other end of that stick is fastened securely into the post.
My mouth goes around the other end of this wooden egg making the egg almost
completely disappear inside of my mouth. A leather strap is wrapped around
the back of my head and fasten tightly behind the post. This simple gag is
very efficient in keeping my head tilted slightly up and firmly in place.
It also makes sure the top part of my body remains fairly close to the post
thus preventing me from leaning back. And the last thing it does is to keep
me from uttering a single coherent word.

To finish the pose, Connie pulled my long black hair back into a ponytail,
just like the girl in the picture, and then she fastened nipple clamps on
my excited hard nipples. A light chain, which is also placed around the
post, connects these two damnable clamps and completes the picture. I am
able to move the upper part of my body a little more than the bottom part,
but in so doing the chain drags and grabs on the ruff wooden post, which
also pulls on my nipples. Having my nipples squeeze tightly by the clamps
is bad enough, but having them pulled on at the same time is murder.

At this point, according to the story, I am to be left alone for a short
time while Connie gets a camera to take pictures. Well, not exactly. The
story goes on with me being blackmailed by Connie into becoming her lesbian
bimbo sex slave. She takes pictures and videos of me doing all sorts of
perverted things with dildoes, bondage and having me debase myself in front
of her. Like begging her to allow me to lick her shoes and tongue her
pussy, etc. Then she accelerates the blackmailing and domination by having
my nipples and pussy pierced. She is also to whip me and flog me while I am
masturbating myself to a hot glowing orgasm. And a host of other
humiliating and degrading sexy stuff like that. All under the watchful
recording eye of a camera.

Of course I would never, ever go that far. That would be just plain stupid.
I have a good life with a great career ahead of me. And I certainly do NOT
want to throw all that away. It's simply a mind fucking fantasy with one
SMALL step in reality. That's all. We all have our limits. And mine are
just about there too.

Ohhhh why is Connie taking so long? I'm really starting to hurt and I want
out NOW! I tried calling out to her, but this damn gag keeps me from making
any major degree of noise and I seem to be drooling all over myself in the
process. And my nipples are hurting something awful, which is only the
beginning, for when they are taken off after being on for so long the pain
is amplified immensely.

Oh! I hear her coming. Good, it's about time this session is over with. And
I could sure use a good orgasm about now, once she plays out her role as
a ruthless Dominatrix intent of making me into her obscene and depraved sex
slave. Then it's back home I go and a long hot bath for my achy body.

"Ah, there is my precious little twit. And how are we feeling? . . . Oh,
not so good huh? Poor baby. Well I'm going to make it all better for you
very soon, just let me set up this video camera and then take some pictures
of you like this. I must say, you do look quite the fetching damsel in
distress like this. We'll have to try this position again sometime, that is
after all the other bondage positions I have in mind for you."

What the hell is she talking about? And what is she doing with those
cameras? I didn't want any pictures or videos to be made of me like this
for goodness sakes! It's just a fantasy! And what did she mean by later and
other positions? I just wanted this one little session. What the hell is
going on?

"There we go. Now I have some really nice and embarrassing pictures of you
twit. Oh? You look perplex. This IS what you wanted, remember? . . . What
do mean NO? Of course you do. It's all right here, in this script, in the
story you sent me. You know, it starts off with the incriminating pictures
I take today and use to blackmail you with. . . Well it does too say so,
right here, see? . . .

"I am suppose to do all sorts of delicious nasty thing to you while taking
pictures, and then use the pictures to further blackmail you with. Then I
am to slowly turn you into a bimbo and slut. I am to have your hair
styled sexy and died blonde. Get all those wonderful body piercings you
like so much. Make you wear sexy clothes to work and proposition the men,
and women, for sex until they finally fire your ass. Then I am to get you a
new job at a strip joint and as a topless waitress. AND, let's not forget,
lots and lots of pictures of you in fetish attire and bondage, including
pictures of you with dildoes sticking out of your ass, mouth and shaved
pierced pussy."

"Hmmm, let's see here. Oh yes, it says right here we are then suppose to
start a web site and post all those pictures of you on it. Along with more
pictures of you licking and sucking the pussy, shoes and bare feet of my
dominate lady friends. AND, my word there is an awful lot in this story, we
are to make videos too. Oh yes! Kinky videos staring YOU, my lesbian bimbo
sex slave.  We are to make a whole series of them, to sell too. And I bet
we even make a ton of money from them. Not that you'll see any of it of
course, because you are going to sign papers giving me completed control
over your entire life and possessions. You are to move in with me and be my
permanent 24/7 slave girl. . . Yes it does say so, right here in the story.
The same story you thought was only a simple mind fuck for you. Well my
little twit, I have news for you. This wonderful fantasy story of yours is
going to be your biography. Which means, it will soon become all too real
for you, all of it! And YOU, my surprised big brown eyed little twit, are
now and forever fucked!"

"Let me see. Which page shall we start with first. And look how many pages
there are too. . . You should have listened to that guy who wrote you this
story twit. He was right in warning you about me. And, as to what's going
to happen to you too . . . my little twit!"


                                The End

                             "The Muse Trilogy"
                                (Story Two)
                              "The Unexpected"

"Hey baby, how's it goin'? You want company? You want to play with my tits?
You want to fuck my wet, hungry, pussy? You want Bambie to suck your big,
hard, manly, cock? Ouuuu, I am so hot for you. Come on baby, Bambie will
treat you real good. And I don't cost much either. Come on big guy, Bambie
wants you to cum in her mouth, and on her big tits, and in her hungry pussy
too. So what ya say sweetie?"

"Well, that depends on how much you want to spend big boy."

"FIVE BUCKS?! That's IT? Just 5 bucks? Are you FUCKIN' NUTS?! I'm worth ten
times that."

"Hey wait minute, don't go away. How about twenty and I'll suck you off and
you use a rubber?"

"Ten and no rubber? No way! Fifteen and a rubber. . . How about ten and a
rubber? . . . Shit, how's ten for a handjob and no rubber? . . . FIVE? Son
of a bitch. Okay, a handjob with no rubber for five. . . What? HERE! With
me hangin' out of your car? Oh god. Okay, but it has to be quick. Damn, you
already got it out. Okay, your gonna have to lower your car window a bit
more so I can reach it. . . There, that's better. What? . . . HEY, for five
bucks your lucky I'm touchin' it at all. . . Okay! Okay! Don't get mad. . .
Oh baby! You're so big and hard! I love a man with a big, hard, cock. To
put my soft, feminine, hand around it. To stroke it up and down. To feel it
throb with your veins bulgin' out from it's side. Ohhhh, it makes me
soooooo hot all over. I can even feel my pussy oozin' my hot, horny, love
juice while I rub your big manly co . . . HEY! If you want to play with my
tits, it will cost you another five bucks. . . Well, if you don't have the
money, leave them alone. . . Yea, right, I'm rubbin' it, I'm rubbin' it.
Okay, faster, and faster, and . . . Oh Shit! You came all over my hand, and
you got some on my dress too, and in my hair! SHIT! . . . Yea, yea, yea, it
was good for me too. Now give me my five bucks. . . Huh? . . . Yea, right,
sure. You tell all your friends about Bambie, but you tell them I only do
it with a rubber and TEN bucks from now on. . . Yea, I love you too baby"

Asshole! I don't believe this. I gave him a hand job with my bare ass
sticking out in public, right in the middle of the road. Luckily this is
the seedy part of town and no one here calls the police over stuff like
this. Damn, his cum is all over me. I know I have a couple of tissues in my
purse somewhere. It's so small though. But like THEY said, all I need to
carry in it is one bright red lipstick and a couple dozen condoms, along
with my street money. And oh yea, my fake ID too. I never knew they could
make a driver's license look so real. At least the picture doesn't look
anything like me, thank god for that. But then again, it does look like me.
The new me that is. The blonde bimbo whore THEY are trying to turn me into.
They even gave me a new name to match my looks, Bambie B Dumm. Just like it
says here on my ID.

Oh good. Here's the tissues. I should have told that cheap son of a bitch
to fuck off. But time is running out and I needed the money bad. If I don't
make my quota by the time they come for me, I'll be punished, again! And
having my ass flogged to a brilliant fire engine red that one time was
enough to last me for the rest of my life, thank you very much. THEY even
took pictures while it was going on. Nasty, in your face, pornographic
pictures.  With me showing my slutty made-up face and forcing a smile. My
hands rubbing my burning ass, squeezing my naked tits and touching myself
between my . . . "Oh hi baby, you want some . . . Well, same to you
dickwad, fuck'n asshole!"

Damn, why do I cuss so much. I never use to. I mean, being an Ivy League
graduate and all, I was quite articulate. But now, every other word out of
me is a swear word. . . I know! It's because THEY wanted me to. NO! It's
because THEY ORDERED me to. They said it adds to my over all dumb gritty
street whore persona. The personality they are trying to ingrain in me, to
override my own and make it permanent. Those fuck'n bastards! Oh NO, there
I go again. I have to try harder. To keep my mind and personality together
and separate from what THEY want me to be. But it's so hard. I can feel
their hold on me getting stronger. It's like I'm in this constant fight
over WHO I am. And because it is two against one, I feel like I'm slowly
loosing the battle for the very core of my being. And once I loose that
fight, I will become the whoring bimbo Bambie THEY want me to be, forever!
Oh why did I ever have to try and act out my fantasies in the first place.

I mean, there's nothing wrong with having fantasies, sexy ones, kinky ones
even. And big deal, so a couple of mine had to do with being dominated and
turned into a sex object with a little humiliation added for flavor. But
this is going too far. Okay, so what if I do get a little excited and wet
now and then, that doesn't mean I want to do it all the time, over and over
again, and to this extent. I mean, even too much of a good thing can be bad
for you. And being a real street whore named Bambie is definitely not good
for me!

THEY are the ones doing this to me, forcing me into this role. THEY are the
ones who are taking this fantasy stuff way too far. Instead of them
fulfilling MY fantasies within MY limits like it started out as, I am now
fulfilling THEIR fantasies without any limits what-so-ever. THEY are trying
to take control of me, of my fantasies, of my body, and even my identity.
But what choice do I have?

"Hi baby. What? . . . Fifty and seventy five bucks, with a rubber. . . .
Sorry baby. No rubby? No fucky."

That's it asshole, drive away. Try those girls further down the road.
They'll do it without a rubber, and you'll get more than a blowjob and a
pussy fuck for your money too. Well, at least THEY ordered me to use a
rubber with every trick I do, thank God. Maybe they DO care about me after
all? . . . HA! Who am I kidding. Their only concern is that THEY don't
catch anything when THEY want to fuck me. Yea, like I have a choice any
more with them blackmailing me and all.

There! I think I got all his cum off me now. Lucky latex cleans up so fast
and easy. Damn! I hate hot pink. And I really HATE latex too! It's so
fuckin' hot and tight. Damn it! I'm cussing again! I feel like my boobs are
going to pop out any minute. That or be squashed flat like a couple of
pancakes. And look at my nipples. It's so embarrassing the way they stick
out like buttons. I asked them, pleaded with them to let me wear a bra, but
Nooooo! THEY wouldn't even let me wear a pair of panties either. All night
long I've had to watch how I bend and move so that my already short dress
doesn't creep up to far, showing everyone my naked butt and shaven pussy.
Oh yea, THEY did that too. Complete with pictures and video tape of the
blessed pussy shaving event. Just a little more humiliating and
blackmailing evidence they said. Damn them both to hell!

Well, at least I still have my life during the day and weekends. That's my
lifeline to reality, to the "who" I really am. But sometimes, more often
than I care to admit, I slip up. Like my language will become crude and
foul around my corporate peers. Or I'll catch myself twirling my hair bimbo
style. Or chewing gum with my mouth open and popping bubbles during
important board meetings. Or, for some unconscious reason, I'll begin
swinging and rowing my hips around when I walk as if I were a strutting
bitch on the street looking for some action. It must be quite a sight
though as a few friendly wolf whistles at the office attested too. Oh god,
just thinking about those times when I fellback into my Bambie whore mode
at work makes me so ashamed of myself. Not to mention how angry I get, at
THEM, for making me loose control like that.

Oh yes, THEY are responsible for that too. They taught me all those things
and more. Night after night I would be forced to practice on THEM, licking
HER pussy and sucking HIS cock, forced to swallow as they both came in my
mouth and down my throat. All the while THEY would laugh at me and
criticize me and even punished me until acting like a brainless bimbo
street whore became second nature to me. And when I was finally performing
like the hot piece of ass THEY wanted, THEY told me I had graduated. They
then took me to a special boutique for a makeover. There, my hair was dyed
blonde and styled into something big and fluffy, my sensible clothes were
replaced with ones that were tight, brief and sexy, lots of bright colors
that seemed to make me glow in the night, AND made of ugly latex too. My
jewelry became gaudy, my make-up was bold and layered on, and even the
heels to my shoes had no less than five inches to them now. After that, I
was taken to a street corner in the red light district of town. There, they
gave me my little purse, christened me a successful graduate from the
University of Sluts and Whores, and told me if I didn't make them some
money by the time they came back, then all of the material they had on me
would be made public.

That night I became Bambie B Dumm, a non-consenting street whore, pimped
out by my Master and Mistress, as they demand I call them from then on. And
that's when I became two people. By day, I was an intelligent, dignified
and sensuous woman in the corporate world of high finance. But by night,
I was a pathetic sex object. A tricked out vulgar street whore. A walking,
talking fuck-hole ready to make some fast sleazy money. But now, Bambie,
that slut of the night, is slowing entering into my sacred private life of
the day. And I seem powerless to stop her, or THEM!

"Oh hi baby. You looking for a nice piece of tight wet pussy for your big
hungry cock? Bambie is right here for you baby. I'm all horned up and
waiting for a manly stud like you. . . Oh come on now sweetie, you don't
want to do that without a rubber. A great hunk of man flesh like you can
catch something really nasty if you ain't careful. Come on baby, wear a
thin little piece of rubber around that hard throbbin' cock of yours and do
Bambie real good. Ohhhh baby! You get me so excited just standing there. I
can feel my TIGHT, starving, pussy oozin' its love juice down my legs right
now. Oh baby! I need it so bad! I need to feel you in me, fuck'n me hard,
and makin' me cum when you do, wearin' a rubber. . . Yea! That's it baby,
rub me a little. See how much of a hot sexy slut I am in your big manly
hands. Don't I feel real good too? Oh YEA, you got it baby. The money that
is? . . . Oh Yea, you got lots of money to do Bambie real good with baby.

What? . . . You want to do it in that alley instead of a hotel room? . . .
You think it will be more exciting like that huh? . . . Well, yea, yea, of
course I'm really excited just thinkin' bout it too. But let's be real
quick and quiet, ok baby? . . . But of course I want to feel your BIG,
hungry cock inside of my hot, tight pussy in that damn shitty alley! That's
why I am so, umm, eager, to get it over wi..., I mean, get started sweetie.
And Bambie will do you real good too baby. Make you cum long and hard. Come
on baby, let's go. That's right sweetie you can squeeze my ass and tits on
the way. AHHH! Not so hard! I mean, don't use all your energy too soon
baby."

      (10 minutes later Bambie scurries out of the alley, alone.)

HOLY FUCK! What a frick'n john. I'm glad that's over with. Let's see. . .
Great! I'm just one quick blowjob away from making my target. Damn! My tits
hurt. If I hadn't pulled his pants down as soon as we got into that filthy
alley he would have turned them all black and blue in no time. He sure had
a hard time keeping it up once I had that rubber on him though. Lucky my
Master was very persistent in my cock sucking training. Almost as insistent
as my Mistress was in turning me into a first class pussy licker. But damn,
I got so scared when I couldn't find a condom in my purse. But I did find
two left. Shit, two left from over twenty in one night. What kind of fuck'n
whore am I becoming? Oh God, I so want my old life back. Back when this
whole thing was nothing more than a fantasy in my head. SHIT! I'm starting
to cry and I don't have any tissues left. Com'on girl, pull yourself
together! That's it, be strong. This has got to be better than the
alternative, of being outed, right?

So, once that john was hard again he wanted to stick it in me right away
before he lost it. Hell, I was all for that. The faster he gets off, the
sooner I'm out'a that shit hole alley. So the S.O.B. grabs me by the
shoulders, spins me around, and bends me over a dirty, stickin', open
garbage can. I though I was gonna puke from the rancid smell. As soon as I
was bent over my short skirt automatically exposed my fuck hole. Then he
began fucking me. More like TRIED to fuck me, in the ass! That dumb fuck'n
shithead couldn't tell one hole from another. So I had to reach 'round
behind me and guide his cock into my already wet pussy.

Then he starts banging me, hard. I had to hold tightly onto that greasy rim
just to keep from falling in. And the noise! If his yelling and groaning
wasn't loud enough to wake the dead, then me and that bouncing and banging
garbage can could have done it. I kept looking around to see if anyone was
watching. Oh man, I was so scared! And embarrassed! Not to mention
humiliated to the very core of my soul. . . And horny as hell! Oh god, I
feel so ashamed of myself, getting off like that. But it was a long time
fantasy come true for me. A dirty, degrading, and wonderful fantasy that I
dreamed of experiencing for soooo long. Not to mention one that THEY had
conditioned me, like a dog, to sexually respond to over and over again,
once I told THEM about it.

But, it was all so surreal though. There I was, bent over some smelly,
greasy, garbage can, in some dark, dirty, alley, getting my pussy fucked by
some two-bit loser, and all of a sudden I feel myself spiraling into one
red-hot fuchin' orgasm. I tried to keep quiet, to keep the noise down, but
when you're having the best fucking orgasm you ever had in your whole
entire life, well, SHIT! I moaned and screamed like a banshee when I came.
Soon after that he thrust himself really hard and really deep inside of me
and then stopped. I heard him squeak like a mouse getting it's neck snapped
in a trap. Then I felt him release his hold on me and his limp dick
slithered out of me. He finally came too. But it was so pathetic.

Anyway, I quickly stood up, pulled my skirt down, turned to face the wimp,
and demanded my money. Would you believe that stupid john almost passed
out? There he was, sitting in the mud, wearing a pair of ugly boxers, with
this full oozing rubber barely hanging onto the head of his pitiful cock
and he was barely conscious. I told him I wanted my money, but all he did
was mumble something and tried, unsuccessfully, to get up. So I helped
myself to his wallet and got the hell out of there, fast!

HA HA HA! I took all of it! Yes siree, I took all the money he had! . . . I
took all his money? . . . I TOOK ALL HIS MONEY! My GOD! What have I done!
I'm not a thief! I'm not even a whore! I'm just a business woman, for
cripe sakes! But I took his money just like a common criminal! And I had
cheap alley sex for money! And I got off from the whole degrading revolting
act too! What am I doing? What am I becoming? This is going too far, WAY
too far! I have to get control of myself. I have to stop doing this, stop
being Bambie. Stop THEM! . . . But how?

"Oh hi baby. You want some OHH! . . . Ummm, yes, just a little. I thought
you were a john err I mean a guy that's all. . . Well, yes, I can make a
woman feel good too. But I gotta use some protection, you understand? You
know, like a dental dam, or a female rubber, no matter how much money I
am . . . You want me to read this?"

"The bearer of this card has been given a clean bill of health. Bambie B.
Dumm, the owned sex toy of The Mistress and The Master, will have
unprotected sex with the person producing this card. Signed, the owners of
the generic sex slave Bambie B. Dumm."

"Ummm, yes, I'm Dumm, I mean, I'm Bambie. And yes I'll do what is written
on the card, if you want. Is there anything special you had in mind? . . .
WHAT? . . . But I don't do overnighters and weekends. That's just not what
I do. . . Yes, I can read that document. It's a rental form of some kind.
But . . . Yes, but . . . Ok, so it's a legal document signed by my owners
offering to rent me as property to you for the entire weekend. But no court
would . . . All right, I understand. I really have no choice after all, now
do I?"

"Yes, my Mistress has trained me quite well in how to sexually satisfy
another woman. . . Umm, no, not really, before my Mistress I never really
had a lesbian affair. . . Have I had any experience with B & D? A little, I
was bound with some rope and gagged with a cloth between my teeth, but only
a couple of times with my Master not with my Mistress. But it was . . . No,
I never wore a leather discipline hood. . . Or a single glove. . . Or slept
through the entire night cocooned in multi-layers of rubber on the floor.
But excuse me lady, I don't think I am what you are . . . Oh, well, sure,
if you want me too, Mistress. But again, Mistress, I don't think . . . You
want me to do what or you will tell my owners how much of a disobedient
little fuck their street slut was to you? I see, well, if you put it that
way. Yes Mistress. . .

"Thank you Mistress. . . No Mistress, the slave collar isn't too tight.
It's a bit snug though, but not tight. . . Yes Mistress, your "rental unit"
will meet you in your hotel room in twenty minutes. . . Yes Mistress, your
slave understands you very well. . . No Mistress, your slave doesn't want
you to whip her ass either if she's late. . . Yes Mistress. . . Thank you
Mistress. . . Good-bye Mistress."

"FUCK! SHIT!! SON OF A BITCH!!" . . . What the hell is going on? Why are
they doing this to me? Here I thought they were only interested in tricking
me out like some late-night, part-time hooker. But now they're renting me
out as some kind of weekend submissive kinky sex slave. The weekend was
supposed to be for me, my sacred time to be myself. Now THEY are taking
control of that too. Forcing me to become some depraved, horny, rich-
bitch's bondage fetish rubber doll for the whole weekend. She even put this
FUCKING dog collar on me to start things off with.

Well, this whole situation has gone far enough. If I don't do something now
it will only get worst, much worst! I have to get out of here, get out of
town, the city, the state, hell, out of the country if need be. Maybe I can
go to the police? Oh god, that would be so humiliating. To tell them my
story. Shit, I don't think they would even believe me. My word as a slut
and whore over my Mistress and Master's? No, I can't do that. The news
media would pick it up and my career, my whole life even, would be
completely ruined. But I can't stay here and let them turn me into some
perverted sex object. I have to leave, right away, tonight!

There is a pay telephone half way down the block. I can call a cab with it.
Have the cabby drive me home, change my clothes, pack my bags and take the
next flight out of here. That's it! Those bastards aren't going to control
me any more. . . "AHHHH!" . . . "OUCH!"

"What the FUC  AHHHHH!" That hurts! And it's coming from this damn collar
that fuck'n wacko bitch put on me. I've got to take it off before it kills
me. . . "SHIT!" It's locked on. I can't get it off. "OWWWWW!"

Oh no. . . "AHHHHHH" . . . Oh NO!

Those BASTARDS! They're doing this to me! If I walk away from where that
woman's hotel room is located I get zapped. If I walk in the direction of
her hotel I'm okay. They are controlling me by remote control, like some
kind of robot! I have to call for help.

"Hey Mister, PLEASE, can you hel OWWWW!!"

"Yes, you, can yo OOOOWWWWWWWW!!" Oh NO! They can hear me too. "Can't you,
You BASTARDS! OOOOWWWWWW!!!!"

"No, nothing. I though you were someone else. . . Well FUCK YOU TOO! OUCH!
I mean, I'm sorry!"

Oh god. . . I better start walking towards that hotel and keep my mouth
shut. Maybe I can write a note or something? No, they're probably watching
me too. Besides, who's going to believe a street slut anyway. Damn it! Damn
it! Damn it! Now what am I gonna do?



                               The End

                             "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

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