Young latex fetishest, 26M. I have been around the scene for years, loving my community and lifestyle. Really dislike transphobia, racism and other hate-based content.
The first time I saw this was years ago. I adore this image, and am very glad to have stumbled upon it again. To me, this image, along with a handful of others, really summarise what I want in a relationship and a life partner.
Two seperate people, each dominant, powerful and skilled in their own right, joined together in become an mixture of beauty and terror. Balancing off one another, feeling sexual energy movong freely between them, both in isolation with each other, and when subjecting submissives to themselves.
I dream of meeting a person, probably a woman, of the same stature, vanity, fetish and power as me and feeling secure in our relationship, love and moving that to being able to create incredible scenes and connections together.
Na was macht das vibrierende Ei in deinem inneren? Bringt es dich langsam um den Verstand? Du siehst sehr sexy aus wie du da stehst. Ich glaube ich drehe die Vibration noch ein kleins Bisschen höher. Ich hoffe du denkst daran, dass dir kein Orgasmus erlaubt wurde und welche Konsequenzen auf dich warten solltest du schwach werden. Du weißt ja, meine Gäste und ich haben dich gut im Blick und werden es sofort merken wenn du ungezogen bist.
So, what is that vibrating egg doing inside you? Is it slowly driving you out of your mind? You look very sexy standing there like that. I think I’ll turn the vibration up just a little bit more. I hope you remember that you aren't allowed to have an orgasm—and the consequences that await you if you give in to temptation. After all, my guests and I are keeping a close eye on you, and we’ll notice immediately if you misbehave.
“You’ve become such a good rubber-pony over these last few weeks! Remember the fuss you made when I first introduced you to your butt-plug tail? And how long it took you to learn to walk in those pony boots? Or how about the time you almost burst into tears when I told you you’d be sleeping in the shed from now on? But look at you now! You don’t even need to bit gag anymore because you know that good ponies don’t talk. Ever. I’m so proud of you.”
“If you open that zipper, you’ll find a drooling pussy underneath. Ready for your cock. We feed our bitches a special mixture, a drug that increases their arousal and heat manifold. Ironically, it was initially developed for animals. Like, real animals. For breeding purposes, you know. Now we use it to make sure all the hotel rooms here are filled with needy little bitches who are in a hazy state of arousal, constantly. Be careful, though. Sometimes the drug makes them a bit… too eager, if you know what I mean. That’s what the D-rings are for. You can tie and leash her to the furniture, if she’s getting too excited. Don’t wanna risk a stroke, eh? Haha…”
"You can't be serious," Martha said, her voice tinged with incredulity.
Miss Flex, the PE instructor at the Slut Academy, smirked. "Oh, but I am, dear. Welcome to Lesson 1 of Physical Education. This is where we learn the importance of... stretching." The gymnasium was filled with the sound of giggles as the girls looked around nervously at each other. They were all naked, as was the norm in the academy, and Martha felt a blush rise up her cheeks.
The dildos lined up before them were of various sizes, each one bigger than the last, and they were all gleaming with what she hoped was lube. Miss Flex walked around, her stiletto heels clicking against the floor, inspecting each of the girls. Her eyes lingered on Martha, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. "You're new here, aren't you? Well, don't worry. You'll get the hang of it." The instructor's words were as cold as the metal benches they stood beside.
One by one, the girls approached the line of dildos. Each took a deep breath, squatting down and taking the first one in, wincing as it filled them up. The room was silent except for the occasional sigh and the sound of wet flesh stretching around the toys. Miss Flex walked around, her eyes sharp and her expression unreadable. Martha watched, feeling her own arousal build as she took in the sight of her peers' shameless display. It was both terrifying and oddly fascinating.
When it was her turn, she stepped up to the line the 1st one want to bad its hard metal warmed by the pussys of those who went before. She took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. Miss Flex's eyes bore into her, watching every move. The room was filled with the scent of arousal and the faint smell of lube. Martha squatted down and took the smallest dildo in her trembling hand. She positioned it at her entrance and pushed it in slowly, feeling the cold, hard metal fit cunftabley. She bit her lip to stifle a moan, not wanting to give Miss Flex any extra satisfaction.
Lifting herself she felt the dildo slide out of her as she moved forward to the 2nd of 10. It was thicker and longer than the first one, she was getting wetter by the moment. She took a deep breath, her heart racing as the other girls watched. The anticipation was palpable, their eyes glued to her every move. She leaned back, spreading her legs wider, and began to lower herself onto the second dildo. It was a tighter fit, but she was determined to push through. She gritted her teeth and took it easily enough, feeling her pussy stretch to accommodate the size. The sensation was intense, a mix of pleasure and humiliation that made her knees wobble.
Miss Flex's footsteps approached as Martha took the 3rd dildo, the instructor's eyes raking over her body. "Good," she murmured. "Now, let's see if you can handle more." The next few dildos went in just as smoothly, the room's temperature seeming to rise with each one. The other girls began to murmur, their own arousal building as they watched Martha's performance. By the time she reached the 6th, her pussy was begging for release, but she held back, knowing the consequences of coming without permission. Each thrust onto the dildo brought her closer to the edge, but she remained in control, her eyes locked on Miss Flex's smug expression.
The 8th dildo was the largest she had ever seen, and Martha felt a shiver of both fear and excitement. The student who had managed to take the 10th was still gaping not yet able to stand again. The anticipation was almost too much for Martha to bear, but she took a deep breath and lowered herself onto the massive toy. It filled her completely, stretching her to the limit, and she had to grip the bench to keep from falling. The sensation was overwhelming, but she focused on the prize: the sweet release she would get to enjoy if she could just hold out.
Under the scrutinizing gaze of Miss Flex and her peers, Martha continues to stretch herself with larger dildos, reaching a new limit with the 8th one. Despite the intense sensations, she maintains her composure, driven by the promise of eventual release.
The room was a symphony of moans and gasps as the girls watched the remaining contestants, the air thick with the scent of desire. Martha could see the envy in their eyes, and she knew that she was close. She clenched her inner muscles around the 8th dildo, feeling her orgasm building. But she was aware of Miss Flex's stern gaze on her, reminding her that coming without permission would mean lunchtime detention as a human urinal. With all her might, she held back, her eyes squeezed shut in concentration. Reaching the bace she knew she had done it, all she had to do now was get back up without giving into the sensation. She already knew she couldn't handle 9 but she had done well far better than most one only managing 5.
As the dildo final slid out with a pop she realized she had been the last still going kissing the dildo the sine of calling it qits. All the girls where ordered to line up so that the results can be officially announced.
Miss Flex's smile widened as she approached the podium at the front of the gym. She scanned the line of sweating, flushed students. "The winner," she announced, her voice echoing through the room, "is... Amanda the only one who reached number 10"
The lesson escalates into a competition, and despite her intense arousal, Martha stops at the 8th dildo to avoid disobeying the rules, while Amanda becomes the envy of all by completing the full set, leading to Miss Flex announcing Amanda as the winner.
Martha watched as Amanda crawled up to the podium, still unable to walk her pussy gaping grom the last dildo. Miss Flex leaned in close, whispering something in her ear. The room fell silent as Amanda nodded, her eyes glazed over with excitement. Miss Flex stepped back and clapped her hands together. "Amanda, as the winner, you may now cum in front of the class. Show us what a good slut you are." Without hesitation her hand dove to her clit.
Martha felt a mix of admiration and envy as she watched Amanda's body tense up and her orgasm washed over her, her pussy convulsing, her moans filling the room. The sight of it was mesmerizing, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of arousal. Her own need was still there, demanding attention, but she knew better than to act on it. Miss Flex's gaze swept over the remaining girls, lingering on Martha for a moment before moving on.
"Now, for the rest of you," Miss Flex announced, her voice as cold as the metal benches, "you know the rules. Detention for the pathetic slut who couldn’t even make it past number 5 and the 3 off you who couldn't control yourself and came without permission." The silence the followed was only disrupted by Amanda's orgasm and her sqerting like a fountain over everyone.
Martha felt a pang of fear but also a thrill. She knew that she had done better than most and she was eager to prove herself. The gymnasium emptied out, the girls dispersing to their next classes with a sense of relief and excitement. Martha's next class was BDSM 101, a subject she had heard whispers about but never experienced. She walked into the classroom, her heart racing in anticipation. It was surprisingly traditional, with a large wooden desk at the front and rows of smaller desks facing it. But the twist was that each of these desks had a saddle-shaped vibrator insteadofachair, the humming noise setting the room's tempo.
The naked, curvy blond teacher at the front of the room had frizzy hair that bounced as she moved. She wore a stern expression and a leather corset that accentuated her ample cleavage. Behind her was a cage, and in it was a student dressed like a dog, with a muzzle, a dog collar, and a tail butt plug. Martha felt a shiver of excitement mixed with trepidation.
"Take your seats, sluts," the teacher instructed, her voice carrying the same authority as Miss Flex's. Martha approached the rows of desks, her eyes on the saddle-shaped vibrators attached to each one. She could feel the anticipation building inside her as she straddled one of the devices, feeling the soft leather against her sensitive skin. The hum of the vibrator beneath her was a constant reminder of her own arousal, which she knew she wasn't allowed to indulge in yet. The sensation was maddening, but she remained focused.
Miss Whipcrack, as the all but naked, curvy blond strutted to the front of the class, her frizzy hair bobbing with each step. The teachers pet shifted slightly, watched with wide eyes as the lesson began. "Today, we're going to learn the basics of thevart of rope bondage. Who would like to volunteer?"
Martha's hand shot up, eager to participate and distract herself from the persistent vibrations. She felt the other girls' eyes on her, a mix of admiration and jealousy. Miss Whipcrack's smile grew wider as she pointed at Martha. "Excellent"
Martha made her way to the front of the class, her heart racing. She felt a thrill of excitement mixed with a hint of fear as she stepped Infront of the class. Miss Whipcrack approached her, carrying a coil of red rope. "Good," she said, her eyes appraising Martha's naked body. "You're eager to learn."
The class watched intently as Miss Whipcrack began to tie the ropes around Martha's wrists, each loop and knot precise and deliberate. Martha felt the ropes bite into her skin as the tension grew, but she remained still, eager to impress. The sensation was strange, a mix of discomfort and excitement that had her pussy dripping.
Miss Whipcrack's hands moved down to Martha's ankles, wrapping the rope around them tightly before securing them to the legs of the desk. She was now bound in a standing spread eagle, The teacher's pet in the cage watched her with a mix of curiosity and envy, its tail wagging slightly.
The lesson on bondage techniques continued, and Martha felt the rope tighten around her as Miss Whipcrack demonstrated how to tie a perfect bowline knot. Each tug sent waves of sensation through her, making her squirm. The room was filled with the sound of the other students whispers as they took notes, their eyes flicking between the board and Martha's bound form.
Miss Whipcrack moved up to her waist, wrapping the rope around her in intricate patterns. The rough material dug into her skin, but she bit her lip to keep from showing any discomfort. She was aware of the heat rising in her cheeks, her body on full display to the class. The ropes around her chest tightened, pushing her breasts up and out, making them more sensitive to the cool air of the classroom.
The teacher's hands were gentle yet firm as they worked their way up to her neck, creating a collar that was both restrictive and oddly comforting. Martha felt a surge of submission wash over her, the tightness around her throat adding to the thrill of being bound.
Miss Whipcrack stepped back and addressed the class, "Now, sluts, come up and examine your classmate's bondage. Remember, this is an educational exercise, so feel free to tuch.
The classroom buzzed with excitement as the students swarmed around Martha. Hands, soft and curious, began to explore her bound form. They traced the lines of rope against her skin, their fingertips grazing her sensitive areas. The sensation of being touched and examined by so many was overwhelming, and she felt a rush of heat between her legs.
One of the girls, a petite redhead named Lily, stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She leaned in and whispered, "You look so pretty all tied up," before running her finger along the rope that cinched Martha's waist. Martha felt a jolt of pleasure at the girl's touch and the humiliating compliment. The room was a blur of naked bodies, all focused on her, and she could feel their breath on her skin as they took notes and whispered to one another.
The students began to take turns touching her, their hands exploring the intricate patterns of rope that held her in place. Some were tentative, others more confident, but all of them brought new sensations to her body. They traced the lines of the knots, gently prodding at her breasts and stomach, and even dared to dip a finger into the wet folds between her thighs. Each touch brought her closer to the edge, and she struggled not to givin.
Miss Whipcrack watched the scene unfold with a knowing smile, her eyes dark with desire. "Good," she murmured, "now let's see how well you can endure."
With swift, practiced movements, Miss Whipcrack grabbed more ropes from a nearby rack and began looping them around Martha's binds. She secured them tightly, ensuring that each knot was snug against her skin. Martha felt a sense of panic rising in her chest as she realized what was happening. The ropes grew taut, and she was hoisted into the air, her ass slightly elevated..
Her legs dangled in front of the teacher's desk, her tits swaying with the movement. a new level of vulnerability as she was left fully exposed. The class grew quieter as they watched, their eyes glued to her. Miss Whipcrack stepped aside, allowing the other students to get a better view of Martha's bound form. The redheaded Lily took a step closer, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.
Miss Whipcrack sat on the edge of her desk spreading her legs wide she pulled Martha's face into her pussy as the ropes creaked. "You know what i want you to do." Miss Whipcrack smiled at Martha. "Now class select an instrument from the wall and form a line. You eache get a single hit. After that join the back of the line for another go. Whoever gets the best reaction out of her wins."
Martha felt a wave of dread and excitement wash over her as the class eagerly picked out whips, paddles, and canes. She knew this was part of the lesson, but the reality was so much more intense than she had ever imagined. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, focusing on the warm, musky scent of Miss Whipcrack's pussy. The first taste was salty and sweet, and she eagerly lapped it up. The teacher's thighs quivered as Martha's tongue danced over her clit, her moans spurring the young slut on.
The first impact came from a small, leather paddle. It smacked against her ass, sending a jolt of pain that only served to heighten her arousal. The sting was sharp, but the sensation was soon lost in the sea of pleasure that flooded her from her bound position. The ropes bit into her skin, but she welcomed the pain, losing her self in sensation..
Miss Whipcrack's pussy was delicious. It was a symphony of flavors—salt, musk, and something undeniably sweet. She lapped at it hungrily, her tongue sliding along the folds, eager to please her teacher. Each whip of the tongue earned her a gasp, each nibble at the sensitive nub brought a shiver. The taste grew stronger as the teacher grew more aroused, and Martha found herself craving more, her face buried in the warmth of her instructor's sex.
The first few strikes from the implements were almost a surprise, but she soon grew to expect them. They rained down on her body—thwack, thwack, thwack—each one a new sensation that she eagerly cataloged. The sting of the leather, the sharp bite of the cane, the thud of the paddle. The pain was a strange companion to the pleasure she felt, a duet that played across her skin like a masterful composition. She felt each impact in her bones, her muscles tensing and releasing in time with the rhythm.
Then an unexpected change. A cane strike across both nipples, sending a bolt of pain through her body that had her gasping. The sensation was exquisite, the pain mingling with the pleasure of Miss Whipcrack's taste. The room was a cacophony of sounds—whips cracking, paddles slapping, and the constant hum of the vibrators beneath the girls' asses. But through it all, Martha remained focused on the task at hand, her tongue working tirelessly against her teacher's clit.
Miss Whipcrack's breathing grew heavier, her thighs tightening around Martha's head. The girl could feel the tension building in her teacher's body, the ropes cutting deeper into her skin as the woman's orgasm approached. And then, with a guttural groan, Miss Whipcrack came, her pussy convulsing against Martha's mouth. The students cheered, their own arousal clear in their faces.
The lesson came to a close, and Miss Whipcrack gently released Martha from her bondage. The ropes fell away, leaving red marks that would no doubt turn into bruises. "Good job," she murmured, her voice breathy. "You're a natural."
Martha's body was a tapestry of sensations—pain, pleasure, and the sticky evidence of her own arousal. She stumbled slightly as her legs found their strength again. Miss Whipcrack handed her a small towel, which she used to wipe her mouth and face, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. "You can go now, but many more lesons like that and i might have a new teachers pet." the teacher said with a wink. "I believe you have an appointment with the Sexual Careers Guide after this. Best not be late."
Her heart racing, Martha made her way to the Sexual Careers office. It was a small, cramped space, the walls plastered with an array of pornographic posters that showcased various sexual positions and scenarios. The smell of sex lingered in the air, a heady mix of sweat, arousal, and something faintly chemical.
The Guide, a young woman with a purple pixie cut, was sprawled out on her desk, her legs up and spread wide as she pleasured herself. She was slim, with an assortment of tattoos covering her body like a road map of her sexual conquests. Her breasts bore the words "Toilet" and "Fuck Toy" in bold, black ink. As Martha entered, the Guide looked up, her eyes glazed with lust. She didn't stop her ministrations, her hand moving deftly in and out of her soaking wet pussy. As it engulfed her entire fist.
Martha felt a mix of shock and excitement at the sight, but she forced herself to remain calm. This was the Slut Academy, after all, where the boundaries of decorum were as absent as the clothing on the students' bodies. The Guide's eyes roved over Martha's bruised and bound form, a smirk playing on her lips. "You've had quite the day, haven't you?" she asked, her voice dripping with amusement.
The Guide stood up, her hand still coated in her own juices, and offered it to Martha. The new student took it hesitantly, feeling the sticky warmth against her palm. "Welcome to Sexual Careers," the Guide said, her handshake firm. "I'm Mistress Penny, and I'm here to help you find your place in the world of pleasure."
Martha couldn't help but stare at the tattoos that adorned Mistress Penny's body. They were crude and explicit, leaving nothing to the imagination. The words "Toilet" and "Fuck Toy" across her chest were particularly jarring, but the Guide seemed to wear them with pride. "Please, sit," Mistress Penny gestured to the chair in front of her desk, stayed with the juses of a thousand horny students.
"As your Sexual Careers Guide," Mistress Penny began, her hand still stroking her wet pussy, "it's my job to help you find your niche in the Republic's sexual marketplace. Now, I've been lookingover your fille, Martha. You've got potential." She leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing as she assessed Martha. "Ever considered becoming a Hucow?"
Martha blinked, unsure if she heard correctly. "A Hucow?" she repeated, her voice small.
Mistress Penny nodded, a wicked glint in her eye. "Yes," she said, leaning forward to pinch Martha's nipples between her fingers. "Your tits are almost at the minimum requirement for a Hucow. And I have a feeling you'd enjoy the life." She squeezed harder, lifting Martha's breasts slightly. "Daily milkings, constant attention to your breasts, and the joy of being kept almost always pregnant."
Martha's eyes widened as she felt the Guide's fingers twisting her sensitive flesh. The idea of being a Hucow—a human cow, bred and used solely for milk and breeding—was both terrifying and intriguing. The way Mistress Penny talked about it, with such enthusiasm, made it sound almost...desirable.
"Being a Hucow means being pampered, really," Mistress Penny continued, her own breathing growing heavier as she played with Martha's breasts. "You'll have your own stall, your own feeding schedule, and the best care to ensure you produce top-quality milk. And the breeding..." she trailed off, her eyes glazed with lust. "It's a never-ending cycle of pleasure and fertility. You'll be bred by the most virile and skilled bulls in the Republic, ensuring a constant supply of delicious cum to keep your milk flowing. God if I had bigger tits it would have been a dream."
Martha felt her pussy throb at the thought, the humiliation of being used so purely for breeding purposes oddly appealing. The idea of being treated like livestock, her body's natural functions commoditized, was both degrading and thrilling. She watched as Mistress Penny's hand moved to her own chest, her fingers idly playing with her own nipples as if imagining what it would be like to be in Martha's position. "But," the Guide said, her voice snapping Martha out of her trance, "if that's not quite your speed, we have other options."
Mistress Penny stepped around her desk and sat in her chair, her hand moving down to her clit as she sayes. "How about a urenal slave?" she suggested, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "It's quite the... unique experience. You'll spend your days on your knees, serving as a toilet for those who wish to relieve themselves."
Martha's mind flashed to the students she had seen being given detention, their faces flushed with embarrassment. They were the unfortunate ones who hadn't been able to control them selves during the stretching exercises, sentenced to serve the academy as human toilets for lunch. The thought of it sent a shiver down her spine, but she couldn't deny the dark allure of such a degrading role.
Mistress Penny leaned back in her chair, her hand working faster on her clit. "The humiliation," she purred, "the absolute degradation of serving as someone's toilet. The feeling of their hot piss washing over your body, the taste of it on your tongue..." She moaned, her eyes rolling back in her head. "It's not for everyone, but it can be quite... exhilarating."
Martha felt a knot form in her stomach at the thought, remembering the students who had lost control during the dildo stretching exercise. They had been sentenced to serve as human toilets for the lunch break, a fate that filled them with dread and shame. Yet, as the Guide spoke, a strange excitement grew within her. The idea of being used so completely, of being so utterly at the mercy of others, was a thrilling concept.
Mistress Penny's hand moved in a blur between her legs, her pussy glistening with her excitement. "You see," she explained, her voice low and sultry, "the humiliation of serving as a urenal slave is something not everyone can handle. But for those who can, it's a delightful form of submission. The feeling of someone's piss running down your body, the way it warms your skin, the taste of it on your tongue..." Her words grew more ragged as she neared her own climax. "And if you're really lucky, someone might even cum on you."
Martha's stomach lurched, but she couldn't deny the heat building in her own pussy.The thought of that degradation is both shocking and, in a twisted way, arousing. The idea of being used in such a way, of being so utterly beneath others, was strangely tantalizing.
"But isn't that just...humiliating?" Martha managed to ask, her voice trembling slightly.
Mistress Penny's eyes snapped back to Martha's face, her own expression intense. "Humiliation can be quite delightful, if you learn to embrace it," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Think of it as a form of power exchange. You're giving someone complete control over you, letting them use you in the most base way possible. And in return, you get... this." She leaned back in her chair, her body taut as she climaxed, her hand a blur between her legs.
Martha watched, unable to look away, as the Guide's pussy spasmed and a stream of juices spurted from her, landing on the floor with a wet splat. The room was thick with the scent of arousal, and the young slut couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. "Can I... can I volunteer... I don't think is what I want to do for a career but... but I'd like to try it."
Mistress Penny's smile grew wider, if that was possible. "Excellent," she said, her breath still coming in short gasps. "You've got the right attitude. Humiliation isn't everyone's cup of tea, but it can be quite the rush if you let it." She leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "But remember, slut, this is just one option. There are many paths to pleasure in the Republic. What about becoming a private sex slave?"
Martha nodded, trying to process all the information that had been thrown at her. The thought of being a Hucow was still in the back of her mind, but the humiliation of being a urenal was equally as alluring. "What do you mean by private sex slave?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
Mistress Penny leaned back in her chair, her hand still slowly toying with her clit as she regained her composure. "Ah, the life of a private sex slave," she said, her voice taking on a dreamy quality once more. "Imagine, Martha, being owned by someone who cherishes your body, who sees you not as a woman but as a living, breathing toy to be used for their pleasure. Every whim, every desire, yours to fulfill. It's a life of complete submission, but oh, the rewards..."
Her hand moved away from her pussy, reaching instead for a jar of lubricant on her desk. She smeared some onto her fingers and began to slide them in and out of her ass, the squelching sound filling the room. "As a private sex slave, you'll be pampered, trained, and molded into the perfect plaything for your Master or mistress. You'll learn to crave the feel of your owner's touch, the sound of their voice as they command you. Your body will become a canvas for their desires, painted with pleasure and pain in equal measure."
Martha felt a strange warmth spread through her at the thought of such complete surrender. It was a stark contrast to the independent life she had always dreamed of, but something about the idea called to her on a primal level. "But how do you know if it's the right path?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Mistress Penny chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ah, that's the beauty of it, my dear," she said, her fingers now moving in and out of her ass with ease. "Only you can know the right path for you. If you find the right path and if you do your 10 years public service will be the best years of your life. And something you will do volenteraly for the rest of your life. I've got another idea. Why don't you tell me your kinks and see if we cant match it to something you will love?"
Martha took a deep breath, her cheeks flushing as she tried to put her thoughts into words. "Well," she began, her voice shaking slightly, "I've always... enjoyed being watched. Like, really enjoyed it. And the bondage today, it was... intense."
Mistress Penny nodded, her eyes never leaving Martha's. "Tell me more," she coaxed, her voice smooth as silk.
Martha took a deep breath, the words spilling out of her like a confession. "I like when people watch me," she admitted, her cheeks burning. "It makes me feel... I don't know, alive. Like I'm not just some random slut, but the center of attention." She paused, gathering her courage. "And the bondage today... it was like nothing I've ever felt before. It was terrifying and amazing all at once."
Mistress Penny's eyes glinted with interest. "Ah, an exhibitionist," she murmured, her hand still working her ass. "That's a good start. And bondage, of course. We can definitely work with that. But tell me, Martha, do you enjoy the pain as well?"
Martha thought back to the dildo stretching, the ropes biting into her skin. The way Miss Whipcrack had used the cane on her nipples. "I... I think I might," she admitted, her voice small. "It's weird, but when it's happening, it feels...right. And when it stops, I... I crave it again."
Mistress Penny nodded, her gaze never leaving Martha's face. "Pain and humiliation can be quite addictive," she said, her voice gentle. "They can be powerful tools in the right hands, allowing you to reach heights of pleasure that you never thought possible."
Martha felt the knot in her stomach tighten as she contemplated the idea of embracing these kinks.
"I've always enjoyed being on display," she began, her voice shaky but earnest. "There's something about having all eyes on me that...it's like a thrill, a rush that I can't get enough of." She paused, her cheeks flushing as she thought back to the way the class had ogled her during her bondage demonstration. "And the bondage...it was so intense, I didn't know my body could feel like that."
Mistress Penny nodded thoughtfully, stroking her chin. "Exhibitionism and bondage, hmm. Those are good starting points. But tell me, Martha, have you ever felt the sting of true humiliation?" She leaned back in her chair, her fingers still idly playing with her ass.
Martha's heart raced as she recalled the whispers and the touches from her classmates during the bondage lesson. "Well, I guess today was kind of humiliating," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But it was...exciting too. Like I was on display, and it made me feel...important."
Mistress Penny leaned in, her eyes sparkling. "Ah, the sweet taste of public humiliation," she murmured, her hand still toying with her own slick entrance. "But tell me, have you ever felt the true sting of it? The kind that makes you want to crawl under the desk and hide, yet you find yourself craving more?"
Penny identifies her as an exhibitionist and bondage enthusiast with a craving for pain. Martha feels conflicted as Penny probes deeper, asking about true humiliation. Martha admits the day's events were humiliating yet exciting, making her feel important. Penny challenges her to recall deeper humiliation while fingering her own ass.
Martha swallowed hard, her thoughts racing. She had felt embarrassed before, but the humiliation she had experienced today was different. It was raw and exposed, and yet, she hadn't felt more alive. "I think so," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "During the bondage lesson, when everyone was touching me and watching...it was so...degrading."
Mistress Penny's eyes lit up with excitement. "And did you find yourself craving it?" she prodded, her voice like a caress. "Wanting more, even as you felt your cheeks burn with shame?"
Martha nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "Yes," she admitted, her eyes cast downward. "I don't know why, but it just...it felt right."
Mistress Penny leaned in closer, her hand still working away between her legs. "Good, good," she purred. "Now, tell me what you are holding back! I suspecti know i can see how tured on youarebut not once haveyouaskedto cum."
Martha took a deep breath, her heart racing as she tried to articulate the thoughts that swirled in her head. "Well, I've always had...fantasies," she began. "Of being controlled in the most intimate way, of chastity and breeding."
Mistress Penny's eyes narrowed, her stroking becoming more deliberate. "Go on," she urged.
Martha took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her confession. "I've always had... fantasies," she began, her voice shaky but earnest. "Of being watched while I'm... you know, doing things." She squirmed in her chair, her own hand inching closer to the throbbing between her legs. "And the bondage today, the way Miss Whipcrack had me tied up and... and everyone was touching me, it was... intense." She paused, trying to gather her thoughts. "I think I might like being in situations where I can't escape, where I'm completely vulnerable."
Mistress Penny leaned in, her hand moving faster as she listened intently. "Vulnerability and humiliation," she mused. "They often go hand in hand. And your breeding fantasies? Tell me more."
Martha felt a thrill run down her spine at the Guide's words. "I just... I don't know," she stuttered, her face growing hot. "The thought of being... used, like a... like an object for someone's pleasure, it's just... it's so degrading, but it turns me on."
"And today has been so hot being so turned on but forbidden from cuming. It was like my body was on fire, but the flames were in my pussy," Martha spoke, her voice a mix of frustration and awe. She couldn't help but squirm in her seat as she thought about the unrelenting ache between her legs. "I've never felt so desperate for release, and yet so...so alive."
Mistress Penny's eyes gleamed as she listened, her own hand now a blur between her legs. "Chastity," she murmured, her voice filled with understanding. "Ah, the sweet agony of unfulfilled desire. It's quite the kink, isn't it? Knowing you're on the edge, but not being allowed to fall over."
Martha nodded, her breath coming in short gasps. "It's like... like my body is betraying me," she said, her voice shaking. "I've never wanted to cum so badly, but I couldn't. It was like I was trapped in a cage of arousal."
"Would you like to try it? I have one hear? It would be so simple just a taste of it lock you up hear and now, and then relece you when we have our appointment tomorrow?"
Martha felt a rush of excitement and fear at the prospect. "But what if I don't like it?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
"Its only one night, and I suspect even if you say you don't like it you will soon be back for more."
Martha's heart raced as she nodded her consent. Mistress Penny pulled out a sleek black chastity belt from her desk drawer, the metal gleaming in the dim light. The Guide's eyes held a mix of excitement and amusement as she approached Martha, the belt in hand.
With surprising gentleness, she helped Martha stand and positioned the device around her waist. Martha felt the cool metal against her heated skin, the anticipation building as she watched Mistress Penny lock the belt into place. The cage encased her pussy, the small opening taunting her with the promise of pleasure and the cruel reality of denial. The Guide's fingers deftly maneuvered the lock, securing it with a satisfying click. Before she hung the key around her neck.
Martha let out a soft gasp as the belt tightened, the metal pressing against her clit. The feeling was both maddening and exhilarating. She felt a surge of arousal and humiliation as she realized she was now, quite literally, a captive of her own desires.
Before Martha could properly process what had happened, the bell rang for lunch. Mistress Penny smiled before saying "well looks like we are out of time for today, we will continue tomorrow, but I think we have made some progress. Now, if you're still willing, shall we head to the bathroom?"
“If you could change everything about your life, and it wouldn’t cost you a thing, would you do it?”
That was the question that the strange woman at the bar had opened with, and @miss-emelia-switch had been every bit as intrigued by the question as the person who had asked it. Trying to cover the thrill of excitement that came with being asked something that triggered her deepest fantasies, Emelia tried to turn her answer into a jokey “doesn’t everyone?” to break the ice and get to know this alluring woman with emerald eyes more, and it worked.
They talked for hours, and Emelia found herself relax so much around the woman that she revealed perhaps more than she should. Normally she was more guarded with strangers, but the mix of alcohol, intense green gaze and the smile of approval that the woman gave as a reward whenever Emelia admitted to something proved too much for the young woman to handle.
It was only when she woke up the next morning, bound and gagged to a small bed did she realise something might be wrong.
“Well you did say you wanted to change your life, little Emelia,” Mistress had purred as she watched her latest pet wriggle in her bondage. “And in such specific ways too. How could I refuse such a gift when it’s on offer? But first we need to train you.”
With those words, Emelia’s life began to change forever. Having made the mistake of proudly showing her new Mistress her blog, she had given an insight into her own mind that Mistress was only too happy to exploit. Every fantasy she had expressed, every bondage and training device she had declared a dream of experiencing came back to haunt her as she truly experienced them all for real.
In those blissful times where she was dressed and fettered by Mistress, and allowed to serve in the house, Emelia would look out of the window wistfully, planning her escape from new life, but would never go through with it. As much as she hated to admit it, her training had started to have a huge effect on her, and the ache of emptiness from being away from the machines was every bit as present as the wrongness she felt walking around unbound.
Mistress would observe her thoughtfully at those moments and smile to herself, seeing the conflict in the girl’s expression, as Emelia tried to balance missing the life she had with the pleasure of her new subservience. It would need something more, however, to underline to Emelia that old life had gone.
Waking up once more, Emelia tried to take in a deep breath and registered the tightness around her stomach as the same time as she heard the soft squeaking of the latex that clung to her skin. Panting heavily, she turned to look at herself in the mirror, even as her gloved fingers traced the locks at the back of her corset.
There could be no escape from this life now, no going back to what once was. This was who she was now, and who she had been inside all along.
Originally, Bob had been sentenced to a week of arrest and treatment at the so called "Bondage Asylum" to help him work on his attitude towards women. Shortly after he had arrived though, his treatment plan had been changed. Without any further ado, he was put into a tight-fitting suit and strapped onto the board of what the nurses called "confinement drawer". He was fitted with earplugs underneath his hood and a pair of vr-glasses. Inside, he was totally isolated while he was constantly shown clips of super sexy girls teasing in their office outfits. Bob had no doubt none of this was going to help him with his attitude. It was just pure torture. When the narrow cell's lid was eventually opened, Bob was desperate, his balls blue and swollen and his cock crammed up inside its chastity device. Thank god this was going to end!
Nurse Jenny and the other hand did have no intention of ending poor Bob's ordeal anytime soon. She had started working at the asylum a month ago and was rather low in the "food chain" around here, having to do the paperwork for the other nurses and making sure each patient got treated just the way they'd been prescribed to. While a lot of the patients were here on their own terms, just fulfilling their fetish fantasies, some had been sentenced to spend some time at the correctional ward. It was during her first week here when Jenny realized this place was able to fulfill some of her own fantasies as well. The power she had over the patients fueled her sexual desire like nothing ever before. Before long, she would start to mess with some of the patients' data, increasing the severity of treatment here and there, but nothing to extreme or obvious. Then she read Bob's file: he was reported by the female co-workers in his office for staring at their legs and feet, once making an inappropriate comment. He was diagnosed with an intense pantyhose and foot fetish and sentenced to spend some time here in order to help him change his behavior. Now, after his first day in confinement, she payed him a visit before her shift ended.
“Hello there!”, she cooed in her softest voice. “Have you enjoyed your stay in confinement therapy?” Obviously in panic, Bob grunted something into his gag and shook his head. “Aww, are you ready to get out? Back to normal treatment until you’re released next week?” His relieved sigh was her answer. “Yeah, I bet you are desperate already… You know, when I read your file, I was mainly interested in the fact that you have no family, no friends or relatives and have lived a rather secluded life so far. Also, your security status is low and you’ve only spent a few days here, so no one of the staff is really aware of you being a patient... And no one ever checks all the paperwork once I’ve been through with it. I didn't even think twice when I changed your treatment plan – from a few tease and denial sessions to an indefinite stay inside this drawer. You’ll be kept immobile by strictest bondage, all locked up in chastity while automatically teased by a program tailored to your most severe fetishes!”
His eyes wide open, the body bag slightly shacking from his desperate attempts to get lose, Bob screamed into his gag. “It’s nothing personal, by the way. I don’t hate you, I don’t even know you. Whatever you’ve done to your colleagues, you surely don’t deserve anything like I’ve doomed you to. This needs to be our little secret, Bob. The thought of you being trapped here, teased and tormented, unable to move or call anyone for help, so incredibly horny all the time while your cock is desperately twitching in chastity – that mere thought is enough to almost make me cum on the spot! In other words, the only reason for this happening to you is I’m a kinky bitch and your absolute helplessness gets me wet as fuck. Guess it sucks to be you!”
