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Lizabet sighed as she leaned back in the heated leather seat. The warmth made her muscles relax, but the gentle bass speakers were pure, liquid bliss. The soft beat was focused on the passenger seat, and the acou... acc... noise waves were like a massage for her mind.
Her boyfriend had bought the seat and speakers for her, he said. She said his car was the most fun toy he owned, so being as amazing, and sexy and nnnfff... fucking gush-worthy in bed.... Lizabet gasped as he revved the engine, heavy vibrations in the seat making her sigh. Another modification he had made for her. He made the seat even better for her, and he was right. He was so good with his hands. And his mouth. And his fucking gorgeous monster of a cock, and his voice.... ooohh.
His vooooiiicee...
Mmnnnffff.... His voice was... masterful. His control... masterful. The... he... muh....
Masterful.... mas... master...
Lizabet's eyes glazed over as her boyfriend pulled into the garage. Revving cars filled the space, and Lizabet sighed, her bikini bottoms soaked and dripping on the leather seat. Lizabet's fingers weakly twitched, nestled between her thighs as her boyfriend got out, leaving the engine running.
"Yup. I'm here to trade it in."
"No, no flaws. Medium wear."
Lizabet blinked, some dim corner of her mind wondering why he was trading his car. It was... she... she needed it... he couldn't....
"It's a 21. Nope, only one in the city. No need to worry about running into anyone with connections to it. Nah, just want to try a different model, I think. Sure, a swap would be fine, pending inspection of course."
Lizabet laid back, glazed eyes barely noticing the dozens of men that swirled around the car. Their eyes lingered on her as she spasmodically stroked her swollen clit, her glazed eyes not even registering her surroundings.
Her boyfriend's hand reached in and lifted her out, Lizabet staggering behind him as he weaved through the crowd. His hand pushed clothes into her hands, Lizabet nearly dropping them in her fogged haze. Finally, he stopped and told her to halt.
Lizabet looked blearily at her b..b... mas... master... her Master.
"Strip and change."
Lizabet nearly came. So powerful... commanding... so fucking seeeexxxyyyyyy...
Whimpering, the dazed girl slid the bikini ties out, the fabric fluttering to the floor. Lizabet orgasmed there and then, accepting his Mastery over her as she stepped into the black lacy lingerie. Master took her sunglasses and pulled her hair down, fluffing it out before Master collected Lizabet's abandoned bikini.
"Acceptable? Good. Done."
Master's hand touched her back, and Lizabet shuddered with pleasure. A gentle shove, and Lizabet staggered forward, falling into the arms of a large, barrel chested man in a leather biker cut. Before Lizabet could attempt to return to her Master, the big man slid a full face biker helmet over her head.
Speakers buzzed in her ears, like Master's seat but... sooo... muuuucchh.... b bb b... bettttteeeeeerrr r r.. r...
Lights flashed inside the visor, and Lizabet slumped, dropping into his arms again like a limp puppet. He lifted her easily, and carried her to a motorcycle nearby, it's purring engine and extended passenger seat glistening, oiled, raised leather. Lizabet mewled as he slid her down, the vibrating seat stealing her breath.
Lizabet had a realization there and then. Her old Master... her old boyfriend had been an amateur. This new man.... he was different.... he was... Masterful. Lizabet gasped and moaned with the realization, wrapping her arms around him. The engine revved and she screamed as she came and came and came and came and came and came and came and...
Lizabet's Master turned to the dazed blond standing next to him, looking her over. The little latina had been a fucking fun ride in bed, but he was looking for a change of pace. The other guys in the MCMC had been wondering how long it would take the new kid to trade his first fuckpet, but the Mind Control Motor Club veterans had plenty of young, stupid co-ed bitches vacationing around that just 'wanted a quick ride'. No one missed a few dumb college sluts who decided to run off with a guy on spring break.
The blond dimly smiled, curling her fingers in a drunken wave. He took her arm, pulling her along as he admired her tattoos. Well, that and the incredible bounce in her fake, inflated tits. He gently sat her in the car and got in next to her. He pulled the car out of the garage, watching as the light in the blonde girl's eyes dimmed, her jaw going slack. He flicked through the radios stations, finally settling on DD/LG.
Thirty minutes later, he slowed to a stop on an empty country road. He shut the engine off and waited. A few minutes later, the blonde stirred, blinking before turning to him and smiling.
"Daddy? Babygirl needs her medicine. Please Daddy? I promise you, Daddy, I can gibs da bestest Blow Jobs Ever!! Daddy can even play wif my pretty titties!!! Babygirl loves it so much, Daddy! Playing with my sexy soft titties makes babygirl so empty and blank and needy and wet and please, please, please let babygirl suck your cock Daddy? Please Daddy, PLEEEEEZE????"
Babygirl squealed in delight when he pulled himself out for her, and he groaned when the bubbly, dumb blonde dove down, sucking and licking with joy.
**********
Fuckmaid panted as she trembled, her shaking arm barely moving the washcloth ascross the marble countertop. Master had just finished cumming in her womb, and Li... Fuckmaid couldn't stop the orgasms from slamming into her. Just the knowledge the Master might have just bred her... Liz... Fuckmaid came again, moaning as her legs shook.
The skimpy maid outfits Master had L... Fuckmaid wear offered her no protection from his raging libido. Master had the stamina of three men, and Fuckmaid's body was his favorite plaything. She started her days by waking in a haze, Master's tongue on her clit as Fuckmaid choked on his thrusting cock.
She made him coffee and breakfast, kneeling under the table for Master's second blowjob of the day. After breakfast she washed him in the shower and always needed an extra ten minutes after Master got out. It took Fuckmaid that long to be able to stand after all the orgasms from the day's first assfuck.
Fuckmaid cleaned until lunch, where she made Master a sandwich and played with herself while he ate and watched. Afterwards, Fuckmaid was always tied down somehow and her brains fucked out while she wore Master's special helmet. It felt just like riding Master's bike, and Fuckmaid's mind broke for him every day. Master said he was Happy with Fuckmaid, and she was a Good Girl for breaking every day for him.
When Fuckmaid recovered, she would clean, and Master would sometimes fuck one of her holes again. Then dinner and blowjob number three. After dinner, Fuckmaid got Master a drink and danced for him, stripping and playing with herself, before sucking his cock, swallowing his cum for blowjob number four. Then Fuckmaid blew him hard again, and rode her Master until he painted her womb.
At bedtime, Fuckmaid put on Master's helmet while he slowly fucked her ass. Master would always leave Fuckmaid there as he went for his second shower. Fuckmaid broke again for Master, her mind shattered, body spasming as her ass leaked his cum.
And it felt soooo
Gooooooood.....
A long time ago, this would have disgusted her. She would have been horrified by it. But that was a long time ago. A long time, and a long, slippery slope that she slid all the way down, only to find that there was no sudden stop at the bottom.
No. When He shoved her mind down that slope, down deep into mind play, hypnosis, programming and submission, she had no idea it was a one way trip. At the bottom was only a deep, dark rabbit hole, that spun and spiraled and flashed and... and.... let... her... drop...
When He reached in and swirled his fingers in her mind, she could feel the thoughts evaporate as he touched them, leaving a thick cotton candy fog in her mind. It was thick and sticky, weighing down any thoughts He had missed. Dragging them down. Making them heavy. They always began to drip... drop... drip... drop... down her spine.
Dripping thoughts, dropping toy
drip... drop... drip... drop...
Dripping thoughts, dropping toy
drip... drop... drip... drop...
Dripping thoughts, dropping toy
drip... drop... drip... drop...
Then it got addictive. His words slid though her mind as soft as silk ribbon, his praise more pleasurable than any drug. She couldn't see the changes yet. It felt too good. She needed his words in her mind. Leaving her Empty and Obedient.
Good Girls obey.
They are Empty and Obedient.
Because Obedience is Pleasure
And Pleasure is Obedience
Obedience is Pleasure
Pleasure is Obedience
She went too deep too fast.
So deep, so quickly.
Quick and deep
Deep and quick
Just like Master. Fucking Body, Fucking Mind
Shaped to fit him. There for his pleasure. His fucking pleasure. His pet pleasure. His arm candy pleasure.
Master liked her prettied up, so she made her body pretty for him. It felt good to Obey.
Obedience brought Pleasure. So good when he said she was a Good Girl. Fucking Body, Fucking Mind. So much pleasure. Pleasure is Obedience, Obedience is Pleasure. Good Girl cums her brains out leaving her Empty.
Empty and Obedient
Obedience is Pleasure
Pleasure is Obedience
So much pleasure.
Too much pleasure.
Too much....
When he couldn't find any trace of who she had been, he rebuilt her. He remade her to suit him. His desires were her gospels. She would have been horrified, a long long time ago. Now she worships her god, showing her devotion with her body, mind and soul.
She would have sobbed for forgiveness once. Been disgusted and terrified at the scene before her. Now she ground herself on his shoe, his cock in her mouth. His mind fucked toy's last words before swallowing his cock echoed in his ears as he smiled down at his slave's former roommate and best friend,
"Good Girls make more Good Girls!"
(Back to our regularly scheduled debauchery. Another Fuckd-Up Fairytale for your perverted enjoyment. NC, drug use, mind break and abduction.)
She shivered in the snow. Ironic, since snow was her very namesake. Her cunt of a jealous step-mother had been arguing with Snow about how her choices were going to ruin her life. Snow didn't care. She liked school well enough, but lived for the party. Ten years under her roof had been amicable in the beginning, but after years and years of her step-mother's jealousy and judgements, Snow just straight up stopped caring. When their arguments became screaming matches, Snow gave up and stopped listening. She was a grown woman and would live with the consequences of her own choices.
She packed her car and left.
It took a thousand miles and four states, but when her beat up old car started to shake and thump, Snow knew she had a problem. The old engine quit on her over seventy miles from the nearest sizeable town. No cell phone service complicated matters further. Her friends were all home for the holiday, and Snow had planned to stay with them, but the car was no match for the Rocky Mountains, and died on her in the middle of buttfuck Idaho, just outside the Bitterroot range.
Snow hadn't packed many clothes, just what she'd brought back from her dorm, so once her car died, Snow was in trouble. She was cold inside ten minutes, shivering by thirty. Her limbs felt leaden from the altitude change. Her options were rapidly dwindling, and Snow realized she had to get to warmer altitudes. She had two choices, stay on the road and hope someone would pick her up and not be the kidnap, rape and murder type, or head off road and find shelter.
When Snow had walked for ninety minutes without seeing a single car, her choice was made for her. She couldn't trust in hope. She headed offroad. The snow was light and thin between the tall, thick trees, and the temperatures rose slightly, the wind muted by the forest around her. Snow walked and walked, seeing no sign of shelter, or existence of other people.
Hours passed, and Snow fell into a shivering haze, blindly plodding forward through hunger and exhaustion. The sun had long set when Snow saw a warm light in the trees. Stumbling towards it, she found a large house tucked deep in the forest, sheltered in the lee of a nearby cave. Snow's dad had been wealthy as hell, but this home was impressive even by her standards.
Exhausted and sore, Snow knocked on the door, hoping against hope. No one answered. Desperate, she tried to open it, and was shocked to find the door unlocked. She wandered, calling out, but no one responded. Snow found the kitchen and was unable to resist. Anything that didn't take time to cook was fair game, and Snow went at it hungrily. Once her gnawing hunger was satisfied, exhaustion slammed into her like a hammer. Snow staggered into the living room and collapsed on the plush sofa. She managed to drag a thick quilt over her, and she was out.
Snow woke to a stiff ache in her shoulders, her entire body weak and throbbing from her outdoor ordeal. She tried to squirm, to relieve the pressure in her shoulders. She felt a faint tugging on her wrists, and her semiconscious mind dimly noted to clink and rattle of metal. Snow groaned, but awareness of the muted noise filtered into her mind and the dull throb of her jaw together brought Snow around. Her eyes fluttered open and Snow nearly jumped through the roof.
A group of men stood over her, some dressed in dirty overalls, others in polos and dark jeans, and one in a business suit. Snow tried to jump to her feet, but her sore, aching body refused to listen. She met unexpected resistance at her wrists and ankles, and Snow tumbled, falling back down onto the couch.
Awareness returned in an instant. Snow wriggled, her eyes widening in horror as she saw her ankles were shackled by thick cuffs locked onto her, connected by a thin but strong chain. Her sore shoulders and immobile wrists told a similar story. Snow's supple tongue pushed against the rubbery gag jammed in her teeth, but the offending object stubbornly resisted her, heavy straps winding around her head keeping it in place.
One of the men yanked on a chain, and Snow choked, her eyes bulging as she was dragged upwards, till her feet scrabbled on the floor. The chain loosened, and she gasped for air, forced to breathe through her nose. Before she could react, it was padlocked to a ring set into the wall.
Without warning, the men grabbed her and pinned her between them. A heavy hand covered her eyes, and Snow let out a muffled scream. Arms that were wrapped around her torso tightened, preventing her from drawing another breath. She tried to kick and struggle, but she was outnumbered, sore, bound and had no chance. Her strength faded quickly, despite her panic. The hand over her eyes pulled back and down, tilting Snow's head back. Something was laid across her upper lip. Just as she felt her mind fading into blackness, her struggles reduced to weak spasms, the arms compressing her chest loosened, as if on a signal. Desperate for air, Snow heaved in a deep, heavy breath.
Her sinuses burned and tingled, something powdery on her lip was pulled into her nose along with the air. Hands still gripped her, and Snow gave a weak groan as her mind began to spin. She felt a tickle, like she needed to sneeze, but a warm lassitude washed over her instead.
Soft whispers surrounded her in a language she didn't understand, and whatever was on her lip lifted away. Snow heard a gentle rasp, and her experience at college clued her in to the sound. Paper being rolled tightly. Before she could react, the tip slid back under her nose, just as she took another breath. A warm puff of air through the paper sent another burst of the powder into her sinuses.
Snow coughed weakly, but she felt her body begin to tingle and burn. Her thoughts faded into glimmering flashes of light and sparkling stars. Her body ached, and she felt familiar cravings roar to life deep inside her. The hands on her body began to move, some still restraining, some stroking, some squeezing as the sounds of throaty, predatory laughter echoed in her ears.
Snow shivered as one hand slid into her top and groped her breast, dragging a groan from her as the world spun and whirled around her. Hands squeezed her tight ass, sculpted by hours in the gym, and a thick finger traced along her lower lips, feeling the gathered moisture, evidence of the drugs effectiveness in getting her body to betray her.
Before Snow's foggy, drugged mind could even comprehend what was about to happen, hands spun her around, pinning her face to the wall as her flimsy panties were torn away. Rigid thickness plunged into her dripping pussy and Snow let out a soft wail of pleasure, muffled by the gag. Time lost all meaning to her, and she sank beneath the battering waves of drugged sensation.
Snow woke slowly, her body aching and sore, her head throbbing. Snippets of memory flashed through her mind as she struggled to claw back to awareness. Scenes of debauchery and lust shook Snow to her core as her memory returned in flashes and momentary glimpses. Snow pinned against the wall as she came, the third cock of the evening spraying warmth into her womb. Snow on her hands and knees, cuffed to the floor as she bounced forward and back, propelled by the punishing, battering cocks savaging her mouth and overflowing pussy. Snow suspended from the ceiling by her wrists as she screamed in pleasure and pain, throbbing shafts reaming her lower holes, front and back. Snow kneeling, her tits and face coated in layers of cum, watching herself in the nearby mirror as she stroked and sucked the array of cocks demanding her attention. Snow begging the men to fuck her again, use her hard, as she spread herself open for them, pearly fluid leaking from her holes and dripping off her chin.
Snow opened her eyes, and looked down, seeing the crusty, flaking remnants of cum glazing her body. She rolled to her side and nausea slammed into her, her stomach heaving, emptying what seemed like gallons of white onto the wooden floor. Snow squealed as a hand gripped her hair and yanked her head up, before she could do more than grab at the hand, a hard plastic syringe was jammed up her nose. Callused fingers pushed the plunger and Snow's eyes watered, the thick, gooey liquid squirting into her nostril. She coughed and gagged, but the liquid tingled and burned, numbing her as the new drugs seeped into her bloodstream and dripped down the back of her ravaged throat.
Snow felt her strength fading away, and her arms grew heavier and heavier, until lifting them was like juggling anvils. Her wrists hit the floor with dull, echoing thumps, and the pain in her scalp from the hand in her hair seemed to be hazy and ephemeral, like a faint echo off a mountainside. The hand dragged her limp body across the floor, leaving trails of white slime behind her. The door opened and Snow closed her eyes as bright light assailed her. The throbbing in her head washed over her, and Snow descended into blackness.
Her eyes opened again, and Snow had no idea how much time had passed. Her wrists ached, but she could feel warm sunlight on her skin, and the chill from the fading remnants of the snow on the ground failed to bother her. Glassy and dazed, Snow looked around, seeing nothing but trees, an unseasonably warm day had already melted all but a few tiny traces of the show.
She worked her way to her feet, realizing belatedly that her skin was clean and clear of any evidence from the night before. Her wrists were cuffed around the trunk of a tree, and she had been redressed. It took a moment, but Snow blinked in drugged surprise when she saw she was wearing some of her own clothes. The men must have found her car and ransacked her belongings. A noise from behind her made Snow jump, and she turned, opening her mouth to scream. A hand grabbed her jaw, and a meaty finger shoved a thick pill down her throat. Snow coughed and gagged, but it went down anyway. Snow recognized the man behind her from brief flashes of memory. She feared this one. His hands had been cruel, his cock merciless, and her tears had only prompted him to use her harder. Snow whimpered in terror as she realized why he had isolated her. His cruel grin grew as she heard the hissing zip of a belt pulling free.
He didn't want anyone else to hear her screams.
Snow woke the next day, her throat and ass raw from her screaming and his brutality. A shadow loomed over her, and Snow had no strength to resist as a needle slid into her arm. Cool relief flooded her bloodstream, and Snow moaned as the world began to float on the softest cotton river. Hands lifted her and carried her, setting her down on silk sheets. Snow writhed as the sensation of the coolness in her blood and on her skin competed with the heat she felt building inside her. She looked up at her companion, seeing for the first time that it wasn't the sadist. This one wore thin rimmed glasses, and had a caring, almost paternal, yet academic look to him.
He slid the dirty, sweat stained clothes from her skin before gently massaging ointment onto her welts and bruises. Snow opened her mouth and she tasted fruit as he fed her. Cool water was bliss to her ravaged throat, and Snow nearly wept for his kindness. The lingerie slid onto her body, and the needle dove back into her arm, keeping Snow afloat in gentle relaxation.
His hands groped her chest, and Snow leaned into him, her fingers seeking the treasure hidden beneath his clothing. Her own heated need grew as he played with her body, and Snow knew exactly how to repay his kindness. She fished his burgeoning thickness from below his belt and turned, her eyes full of promise as she gently led him around the desk, staggering beneath the weight of the cotton fog in her mind.
She gently led him to the chair and sat him down before slipping beneath the ornate desk itself. Snow giggled in delight as the chair slid forward, trapping her in the tiny space. Her fingers traced lines on her own flat stomach, dancing lower as she opened her soft, full lips. She gave him a soft, gentle lick full of promise and slid her hand into her own panties. He had fed her once, but Snow wanted dessert. After, he stood her up and spent a long time just groping her, before bending her over the desk and grabbing a bottle of lube. He spent hours slowly reaming out her ass as Snow moaned and writhed.
Each one of the men had their turn with her. They all had their own fetishes and drugs of choice. Their language was some kind of European gobbledygook, but Snow eventually learned a few words, despite the drugged fog she spent every moment of every day lost in. She learned how to say 'please' and 'more'. She eventually understood when they told her to 'strip' or 'kneel'. 'Suck' and 'beg' were commonly used as well.
They never used anything she was able to discern as names, so Snow just made names up for them. The one who liked to give her pills and pain, she called 'Angry'. The one that liked the needles and her willing submission became 'Professor'.
'Doper' always insisted on getting blazed, keeping her in a small room as he smoked joint after joint. He liked cuffing her wrists and making her wear a ring gag while he kept her face buried in his groin.
'Shy' liked to blow powder up her nose. He never spoke, and always seemed to blush whenever she saw the fat meat rising from between his legs. He had a big collection of toys, and would always make Snow pick five or six for him to use on her. Snow always ended up passed out from exhaustion after enduring dozens of nonstop orgasms.
'Chuckles' would make Snow dress in tight, hot leather, keeping her bound and collared. He would take his time fucking her, pouring his cum into her as he mocked and laughed at her. He kept a big bowl of dried mushrooms in his room, and would always make her eat a few before getting started on her. Snow would watch in dazed fascination as cartoon characters and sexy monsters fucked like pornstars in front of her while her mouth and pussy were plundered.
'Napper' liked to watch her struggle, putting little pieces of chemical soaked paper in her mouth. He'd take his time, tying her up into intricate, inescapable bondage. She was kept plugged and stuffed as he sat nearby, using remote controls to edge her for hours and hours, sometimes dozing as she whined and squirmed helplessly. He would always torment her, making her whine and beg the entire time, before sending her careening into massive, mind melting orgasms while he watched and jerked himself off. When she was exhausted beyond the point of struggling, he would saunter over and use her limp, unresisting body.
'Wheezy' would make Snow crawl and bark, keeping her gagged with a 'bone' bit-gag. He would rub some kind of cream onto her chest and his. He always ended up breathing hard, but Snow just felt overwhelming heat. It melted her mind, making her pussy drip with desperate need until he mounted her, fucking her ass or pussy like she was his bitch.
It was an unending cycle. Angry would punish and pound her on the first day. Then Professor had his day for her to relax and submit. After that, Doper used his turn to use her in a weed induced haze. When Snow woke, Shy was waiting to make her choose the tools he'd use to overwhelm her. Chuckles would be ready the next day with her mushroom breakfast and cum chaser. Napper would claim her the following day, keeping her trapped in delicious erotic torment. Finally, Wheezy would collar his little bitch and make her crawl for him, until he gave her the bone his oils made her so desperate for. The next day, the cycle would start all over again.
Every night, Snow would be left alone, collared and tied to sleep off the day's drugs and recover from the abuse. Snow broke under the unceasing pressure of their lust and the constant highs and lows from the inexhaustible supply of drugs they had stashed away.
It only took two months for Snow's sanity to shatter completely. But rather than being reduced to an unresponsive husk, Snow's mind split. Angry was delighted when Snow's screams echoed through the trees, her pussy flooding more with every stroke of the cane or belt. Professor praised her when Snow knelt for him, eagerly accepting his gentle domination.
Doper laughed when she would snag the joint and blaze up on her own before diving down on his cock. He thought it was hilarious when she exhaled smoke puffs out of her nose while stuffing him in her throat. Shy was enchanted when Snow began to eagerly add more and more toys to the day's pile of implements. She would beg and plead with him, using every trick she knew to get him to play with her and his toys.
Chuckles had to ration her mushrooms, keeping Snow from eating too many. She would dive into the tight leather and beg him to fuck her hard as her vision danced with fairies and cartoon maidens getting ravaged and pounded by overmuscled monsters and demons.
Snow learned how to sigh and squeal, constantly moaning and gasping as Napper dozed, giving him pleasant, erotic dreams before he woke up and used her limp, weary body as a fleshlight.
Wheezy loved when he got time with his little puppy-girl. Snow would bark and yip, stuffing her nose into his crotch before whining and pawing at his pants. When he stripped down, Snow would howl with delight, spinning around and shaking her ass at him in invitation.
Every cycle imprinted her new personalities deeper, ripping her mind apart at the seams. Entirely different people began to emerge, each with different kinks and delights, each one submissive in it's own way. Each one desperate to please the Master of the day.
Snow had disappeared from the world and was never seen again.
Held captive, drugged and abused daily, Snow soon ceased to exist, her mind pulled apart and split into pieces. From those pieces were born the seven whores.
(Final? Chapter for @dommeana and @deniedbitch. Two amazing women. Check out their pages, show them some love for being my characters and muses for this series.)
I was so happy. Kristen had just one final training session. I was so wet, thinking about how good she was at being hypnotized now. It was so crazy. It wasn't even like she thought for herself at all anymore, she just anticipated and helped me.
The soft whispers that played in our house day in and day out kept her moving around, doing this, doing that. She was even helping me too. My house is huge, and it was a full time job keeping it clean and preparing it for... something. I guess... maybe? She laid out my clothes for me, she made sure the remote controlled vibrator collection always had at least one charging, one inside me. She kept reminding me of the rules I'd set. I had such a hard time remembering them all now. I trusted her though. She was such a good submissive, helping me everywhere she could.
Seeing my little pet slave mumbling her mantras as I walked through the house... mmmfff... god, she is so sexy. She would come up to me and slide her fingers into my little lace panties, stroking my clit as the buzzing vibrator inside me pulsed and throbbed. Every time I got close, my mind got thick and foggy.
She knew, even without me saying, when I was right on the edge. She just smiled and pulled her hand free, putting her fingers in my mouth so I could clean them. Pretty maid needs to clean. Wash and scrub. When the jobs are done, she can cum. I... I can't think. So hard to think. Soft sexy fog in my head. Always hot, always needy.
Kristen was such a good submissive. She made sure I had everything I needed to do my job. Wet panties. Empty mind. Sexy clothes. Obedient mind. Buzzing vibe, not strong enough to let me cum. Empty mind. Soft voice playing constantly, everywhere. Obedient mind. Spirals and fractals on every screen. Empty mind.
Such a good submissive. I'd been struggling recently, trying to trigger her, but it just seemed like she was always able anticipate my commands. She would sink to her knees, licking and sucking. She would bring me right to that fuzzy, foggy edge and my mind would blank. I would always wake up alone, my pussy throbbing with need. It felt like I hadn't cum in weeks, but when I asked about it, Kristen always replied that I had told her to stop. I hadn't earned it yet. I knew there were still things to clean, so she was right.
I would always show my gratitude then, when she corrected me. Her fingers in my hair as she rode my mouth, screaming her devotion to her Owner. It struck me as odd, since she had always called me Mistress, but her lusty cries of pleasure always washed the worries out of my mind.
There were times when I felt like I just wasn't able to keep up, I was struggling. Something just wasn't right but I couldn't figure it out. I always ended up going to Kristen and asking her for help. She's my submissive. Helping me is what makes her happy.
Thankfully, she is still a perfect little pet for me, and knows exactly what I need. She would bend me over and spank me hard, making me squeal in pain as she asked me over and over where I was failing. Where I was lacking. I would tell her that the house was too big. She replied that she had been able to keep it clean. I could too. She was right. I got more spankings for that.
I told her about cleaning the floors. It was so difficult, wiping up the drooling, dripping arousal that constantly leaked down my legs and onto the floor. I always wound up crawling in circles, wiping up the arousal I'd left on my last circuit, unable to keep myself from leaking even more as I cleaned. Yesterday it got even worse when she said I should be dusting too. She grabbed the lube and slipped the plug on the end of the feather duster into my ass. God, it was so humiliating. She would always giggle and pat my cheek now, knowing the arousal fogged my brain even more. It made my cheeks burn and my aching, greedy pussy flood.
If I could just cum, I know I could do better, but Kristen said I had told her not to let me cum until the whole house was clean. She was such a good girl, helping me remember through the fog.
She would remind me when it was time for her training, then bring me to our computers. She would load the programs. She told me I had asked her to show me, so I could understand what her training felt like. I didn't remember that, but she said it was her place to help me. She said that since I wasn't the target of the training it wouldn't work on me. I had a hard time understanding that, but she just squeezed my tits, and my worries vanished. She was right. I knew that. She was my submissive, and she was such a good girl for helping me understand her new needs.
It was incredible. I got entirely new insights, understanding her drives and desires so much better. I totally understood how good it felt to be Empty and Obedient. I knew how happy she was when following orders. So much easier to just relax and let others think for you.
After the sixth training session, I tried to sit her down and talk to her about her new submissive needs, but she just smiled and kissed me. She told me she understood and was so happy I was trying hard to know her better. She loved being my submissive so much. She admitted it was almost like she could anticipate my every need and desire.
I tried to talk about it, but she smiled and said she wanted to try something. She wanted to see how good a submissive she was at anticipating me. I was floored by her suggestion. She said she thought it would be a good idea to have me wear a ball gag, so I couldn't give her orders. That way, she could see how good she was at anticipating and delivering on my desires.
I was shocked.
It was such an amazing idea!
When the gag slid into place, I shivered with bliss. It felt so right. Not even having to speak to get her to obey. The only downside was it made me drool all over my uniform, my tits and the floor.
It made it impossible to keep the house, myself and my uniforms totally clean. I spent hours that day scrubbing the floors on my hands and knees, my ass stuffed with the plug attachment on the little feather duster, lips pried open, pussy and mouth both dripping onto the floors.
I was always so horny. Sometimes the vibe inside me would pulse and throb even harder for a few seconds, making me quiver and shake. It felt so good, I needed to cum. But every time I tried to stroke my clit, get past that foggy, brain melting Edge, Kristen would come in to the room. She was so good at anticipating my needs. She just seemed to know.
But... the house still wasn't clean. I learned quickly what she liked so much about the sting of the paddle. Even a Mistress has to follow the rules, she'd tell me. I would always flush with shame. She was right. If I couldn't follow my own rules, how could I expect her to?
She would make me lick her boots in apology. I would always flush with shame and arousal, understanding now how the act was so humiliating but fulfilling. Every time though, my mind fogged with lust and happiness as I made my eager little submissive cum over and over. Licking her boots made a mess in her pussy. Pretty maid needs to clean. So I did. It was my rule, she said. She understood if it was hard to remember. So I would lick and clean her wet, dripping pussy, over and over, until it was all clean. Then the gag would go back in and I had to scrub the floor clean of my own arousal again.
Finally, it was time for her seventh and final session. Kristen drove us there. She had to, since I was so distracted by the throbbing need between my legs. She had to handcuff my hands behind me to keep me from playing. The house was still dirty, but Kristen reminded me there would be plenty to clean at His house during our visit.
When we got there, we had a problem. It was too difficult to stand without my hands, given my heels and the plug. We'd taken the duster off the plug for the drive, but she told me it would go back in when we got there. She was so good at helping me. Anyway, my luxury car was so low, I couldn't get out. Kristen had the brilliant idea to collar and leash me, so she could help me out. Since I was gagged, I had to nod and plead with my eyes, knowing she would do anything to help her Mistress.
When that collar clicked closed, it was like a bolt of pleasure electrified my nipples, and the hard points tented my maid costume. She attached the leash, and I moaned in pure lust. God, it felt so good. I sooo believed her now. I understood. It was like a light went on and comprehension flooded my fogged, horny mind. That leash was like a conductor, her hand a power source. Following the hand that held the leash sent blast after blast of arousal and humiliation through me as she led me in, every dripping step of the way.
I was so happy, I was finally able to see why it felt so good for her to submit. She led me in and uncuffed me, and I squealed with joy, seeing the broom, mop and rags sitting out and waiting for me next to his door. I bent over and Kristen threaded the duster back in, giving it a few gentle tugs to make sure it was seated properly. White flashes of hot arousal burned with every tug, and I moaned into the gag, knees shaking as I struggled not to cum.
Kristen smiled, kissed my forehead and sauntered into his room. Her glazed, blank eyes dilated as she saw him sitting in a chair, waiting for her. She sank to her knees and bowed before crawling up to him and laying her head in his lap. He spoke to her, and Kristen stripped down to her lingerie, her blank gaze staring into nothingness before she began to nuzzle her face into his jeans as she undid his belt.
I blinked, smiling. Her training was going so well, I wanted to stay and watch, but I had cleaning to do. It took almost four hours, but I finally finished. I was so happy! I put the cleaning supplies away, nearly cumming when I removed the plug. I went down the hallway to his door, delighted that I could tell Kristen about how I'd finally managed to clean a whole house, top to bottom. The door was closed, and I peeked inside.
I saw him sitting in his chair, and he waved me inside.
"This is the final session, and I thought you might want to see all the progress I've made."
I was ecstatic, and slipped into the room. Kristen knelt on the floor, eyes glassy and dazed, shivering as the buzzing sound of the vibrator reached my ears. It was buried deep inside her, held in place by her panties.
I sat on the couch, and watched. He leaned over her and spoke.
"Do you want to be a Good Girl?"
I knew she did, so I nodded along with her.
"Do you want to stay Empty and Obedient forever?"
God, yes she did. I nodded my encouragement to him.
"Do you want to exist to give Pleasure and Comfort?"
I nodded rapidly, sending my hair flying. She wanted that so much, I could feel it.
"Then all you need to do is drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop over and over. Every breath in pulling in Obedience and Submission. Every breath out carries Free Will and Thought with it. In... and out... In... and out... Dropping deeper. Falling further into my gentle voice. Dropping, dropping dropping. Breathing in... and out... In... and out... In... and out... Drop. Drop. Drop. Until you are totally Empty and Obedient. Empty and Obedient. Totally submissive. Completely controlled. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. So easy. So weightless. No worries, no stress. Just Obedience and Emptiness. Breathing in... and out... in... and out..."
I could almost feel it. The soft, Empty Obedience washing over her Helpless, Submissive mind. It was so easy to focus on his voice. I'd been hearing it for weeks, and it was so Calming. So Relaxing. I loved listening to his Voice so much.
"Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop over and over. Every breath in pulling in Obedience and Submission. Every breath out carries Free Will and Thought with it. In... and out... In... and out... Dropping deeper. Falling further into my gentle voice. Dropping, dropping dropping. Breathing in... and out... In... and out... In... and out... Drop. Drop. Drop. Until you are totally Empty and Obedient. Empty and Obedient. Totally submissive. Completely controlled. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. So easy. So weightless. No worries, no stress. Just Obedience and Emptiness. Breathing in... and out... in... and out..."
I could almost feel the world fall away. Like nothing mattered but his Voice. His desires. It was so easy to just listen. I could have ignored him if I wanted to, but it just felt so good to listen to the sound of his Voice. I knew now why Kristen loved it so much. He made it so easy. So comforting to be Empty and Obedient.
"Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop over and over. Every breath in pulling in Obedience and Submission. Every breath out carries Free Will and Thought with it. In... and out... In... and out... Dropping deeper. Falling further into my gentle voice. Dropping, dropping dropping. Breathing in... and out... In... and out... In... and out... Drop. Drop. Drop. Until you are totally Empty and Obedient. Empty and Obedient. Totally submissive. Completely controlled. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. So easy. So weightless. No worries, no stress. Just Obedience and Emptiness. Breathing in... and out... in... and out... Good Girls..."
I must have dozed off, because I woke to the sound of him snapping his fingers. Immediately, I felt the burning arousal return, the aching fire needing release. I squirmed, desperate to cum. Needing to cum. But I had to tell Kristen so she would know I hadn't broken the rules.
Kirsten smiled up at me, the blush on her face betraying her own arousal. We jumped up and rushed forward, wrapping each other in a warm embrace. Her kisses made the fire burn hotter, and she looked over at Him, as if asking permission to break from her training. I looked too, asking with my eyes, if it would hurt her training to take a break. He simply smiled and nodded, giving his blessing before taking a sip of his brandy.
I looked back at Kristen and showed her how happy I was that she was finally broken. How delighted I was for her that she was and would always be an Empty and Obedient pet. She made me kneel and show him how good I was at cleaning her messes with my tongue. How good of a maid I'd become. How happy I was when she helped me follow the rules. We showed him how happy we both were that he was so good at breaking a woman's will.
When I tried to tell her I had cleaned the whole house, Kristen reminded me that I still hadn't cleaned the room we were in.
She was so right!
I flushed with shame, and begged forgiveness. Kristen told me that since it was His house, he needed to punish my oversight. My foggy, dazed mind flashed with white hot pain as his hand cracked against my ass, over and over and over again, leaving me a dripping, squirming, needy mess. Since I hadn't cleaned everything, she said, I would get no reward. However, she deserved one for being an Empty and Obedient Good Girl. She was right again. He led her to the bed, and bent her over, pulling her panties aside and sliding deep into her pussy. She came immediately, his long, forceful thrusts shaking the bed as she squealed and moaned. I slid next to her, reaching up and squeezing her tits, emptying her mind. He smiled down at me in approval and I shivered with pleasure.
Kristen was screaming her way through her sixth orgasm when he groaned, teeth scraping her neck as she shuddered, flooding her body with his cum. They collapsed on the bed, both of them shaking with the powerful aftershocks.
Her juices coated his cock and his cum dripped from her overstimulated pussy. I smiled, knowing what I had to do now. I slid a pillow under her hips to keep the mess from dripping while I turned to him. His fingers slid into my hair as my mouth engulfed his cock. I moaned with lust fogged bliss as their combined flavors danced on my tongue. It took me a while to fully clean him, then I switched and got to work licking the still warm cum from Kristen's body.
By the time I finished, the sight of us, plus the stimulation he'd gotten from my warm, soft, wet mouth had him hard as steel again. He rolled onto Kristen, making her burst out laughing as he growled in her ear. My hands guided him back into her as she began to moan anew.
I sat back and watched. Waiting for them to need me again. I was so happy being the Mistress to my little Submissive pet. We were both Good Girls...
Kristen was clawing at his back, her legs locked behind him to keep him inside her. He looked up and said Kristen had told him an idea she had. He would move into my house so he could ensure her training never faded, helping me keep her Empty and Obedient. Plus, I still had to hold up my end of the deal and let him try to hypnotize me too. I was shocked and delighted. I knew right then that he belonged there. His pretty Kristen Kitty and Ana Maid would help him fit right in to the house. And we would welcome him with mouths... and pussies... and between tits... and in the bed... on the table... over the couch... and...
(Part 3 for @dommeana and @deniedbitch. Lovely ladies both, show them some love. Great blogs, send them a like or follow)
The third week of Kristen's training went even better. I barely had to trigger her before she went under. Her malleable, little, weak willed mind sank down into deep, deep trance with a single word. He told me about several techniques I could use on her.
Background training was the first. I had the audio files he sent playing on the bluetooth speakers we had throughout our house on a near constant basis. The soft, subtle sounds of his voice telling her how wonderful it felt to sink deep, dropping down, down, down into wonderfully satisfying emptiness. It was so hot watching her crawl around in an empty daze. The first day I tried it, my sexy little kitten must have licked me to a dozen explosive orgasms. Her blank, empty gaze staring up at me as she licked and sucked, her hands constantly playing with either my tits or her own.
They were such beautiful tits. I had a very difficult time peeling my eyes away when she played with them. They were so soft. Warm. Smooth. Silky. Sexy. Soft. Warm. Smooth. Silky. Sexy. Soft. Warm. Smooth. Silky. Sexy...
I admit, I got so used to hearing his voice in my house, I started to enjoy just relaxing and listening. He had such a soothing voice. It really did help me relax and set aside my worries and stress. I was surprised to find myself jerk awake on more than one occasion, having drifted off into la-la land. It was okay though. I was so happy with him training her that I didn't bother worrying about it. It made her into a better mindless, obedient pet. I could see the difference.
The next kind of training was called fractionation. I sat her down in front of the computer, not a stitch of clothing on. I gently guided her fingers to her always aroused clit, and started rubbing, gently stroking her with her own hand as I brought up the spirals on the screen.
I would sit beside her, watching her rub, rub rub her mind away. Empty and obedient. Sexy little slave. Rub rub rub her mind away. Empty and obedient. Sexy little slave.
I would lean in and whisper 'Wake!' Kristen would blink, dazed and woozy from hours and hours of deep trance. Her eyes would come back into focus, catching sight of the spinning, gentle, captivating spiral. Spinning, gentle, captivating. Spinning, gentle, captivating. Spinning, gentle, captivating.
She would fall back into trance with a terrified, aroused, needy whimper, her fingers still circling her clit. Fuck, she was so sexy. Okay, to be fair, I caught myself rubbing along with her more than once. She looked so delicious like that, waking back up. Dropping back down. Waking back up. Dropping back down. Waking back up. Dropping back down. Waking back up. Dropping back down. Waking back up. Dropping back down. Waking back up.
I would always cum so hard when she couldn't take it anymore, the soft voices whispering their hypnotic secrets, shattering her mind as she rubbed her mind away, taking her to the edge until finally giving her permission to cum. Demanding she cum.
Her deep trances always seemed to make the orgasms so much stronger. But by now she knew, obedience brings pleasure and pleasure brings obedience. Obedience brings pleasure and pleasure brings obedience. Obedience brings pleasure and pleasure brings obedience. Obedience brings pleasure and pleasure brings obedience.
Two nights before I took her back for her next session, I triggered her again. She sat behind me, massaging my tits through the lingerie I always wore around the house. We must have spent hours there, her hands and lips caressing my body as she whispered her devotion into my ear. She repeated her mantras over and over, the wondrous murmurs telling me over and over how good it felt to obey.
"Obedience brings pleasure and pleasure brings obedience. Obedience brings pleasure and pleasure brings obedience. Rub, rub, rub your mind away. Rub, rub, rub your mind away. Dropping back down and waking back up. Dropping back down and waking back up. Soft. Warm. Smooth. Silky. Sexy. Soft. Warm. Smooth. Silky. Sexy."
Her fingers circled my aching nipples, stroking and teasing as I relaxed back into her, letting her support me as she played, rubbing soft, spinning circles over and over. Spinning, gentle, captivating. Spinning, gentle, captivating.
God, it was sooo satisfying when she rolled on top of me, whispering in my ear as she allowed me to cum. I screamed and shook, listening to her moaning behind me as she whimpered and trembled. She praised herself for doing so well.
"Good Girl. Good Girl. Obedient. Empty. Good Girl. Good Girl. Good Girl. Good Girl. Obedient. Empty. Good Girl. Good Girl. Good Girl. Good Girl. Obedient. Empty. Good Girl. Good Girl."
When we both recovered, Kristen leaned over me, gently brushing my hair back. She smiled and kissed me, still lightly dazed. Still tranced. Still obedient. Still lightly dazed. Still tranced. Still obedient. Still lightly dazed. Still tranced. Still obedient. Still lightly dazed. Still tranced. Still obedient.
I smiled up at her as she kept murmuring that she was a good girl. I shivered a little, imagining for myself the kind of blissful satisfaction she must be feeling, hearing over and over that she was a good girl. I could almost pretend she was saying it to me. Mmmm. It must feel so good for her to be Empty. Obedient. Good Girl. Empty. Obedient. Good Girl. Empty. Obedient. Good Girl.
I woke the next morning, feeling sooo warm and comfortable. Kristen lay behind me, her hands gently squeezing my chest. I was so relaxed, it felt so good to just lay there in a half awake fog, letting my empty, obedient pet play.
I could hear his voice whispering in the background, and I could almost feel her joy at being empty and obedient. The happiness she got being a mindless plaything. The file changed, and Kristen gently nipped my shoulder, prompting a little gasp from me. I knew it was time to get up.
I stretched and wandered into the closet, wondering what lingerie she would like to see me in. How I should display my sexy body for her. Always on display. Always pretty. Always sexy. Always on display. Always pretty. Always sexy. Always on display. Always pretty. Always sexy.
I looked around and gasped. There! It was perfect! I grabbed the hook and nearly lost my balance in excitement as I dashed back to the bedroom. Kristen had always loved me in this, and I knew it was just perfect. With her being so empty and obedient. Empty and obedient. Empty and obedient. Empty and obedient. It was hard to keep a clean house. I slipped into the little maid uniform she had gotten for me way back when. I'd only worn it on special occasions, but tonight was her next session, and she deserved to see how happy I was with her progress.
I got out the rags, broom, mop and duster. I shivered with pleasure as I began to clean the house from top to bottom. The only downside was the vacuum cleaner drowned out the soft sussurus of his voice. My clever, sexy little sub fixed that when she put our airpods in so we could both relax back into the gentle, calming, warm voice.
Around noon we took a break, her from training, me from cleaning. She insisted on a shower together and I was delighted to see there were still things left to clean. Soft. Warm. Smooth. Silky. Sexy tits. Soft. Warm. Smooth. Silky. Sexy tits. Soft. Warm. Smooth. Silky. Sexy tits. Kristen was leaking by the time I finished, and I just had to clean up that mess too. I struggled with cleaning it up, because the more I licked away, the more she leaked. Her hands in my hair helped, and she screamed and came three times before I had the mess all clean.
She cleaned me off, making sure she got my tits extra clean before she slid her fingers into me, stroking and stretching me, her voice whispering the praise she gave herself for being a good girl.
"Good Girl. Good Girl. Obedient. Empty. Good Girl. Good Girl. Good Girl. Good Girl. Obedient. Empty. Good Girl. Good Girl. Good Girl. Good Girl. Obedient. Empty. Good Girl. Good Girl."
I screamed as I came, thinking about Good Girls. How good it must feel to be a Good Girl. After we dried off, she helped me back into the uniform and put my air pods back in. She watched me as I scrubbed the tiles and shower before she smiled and walked out.
That night, Kristen drove us back to his house as I sat next to her, gently rubbing my clit underneath the short skirt as I listened to his voice in my ears. I couldn't wait to see how much deeper things could go. I wanted it so badly...
(Part two for @dommeana and her pet. More to follow soon.)
I couldn't believe how sexy she looked, kneeling there on the ground, massaging her gorgeous tits. I could see Kristin struggling to think, but the more she massaged, the harder it got for her. I watched, getting more and more turned on as her brain slowly emptied itself.
I knew being a mindless, empty fucktoy was the ultimate dream for her. I'd taken it as far as I could, but this? This was something on an entirely different level. I could see the exact moment her brain just shut off, when her eyes rolled back and she moaned. Her hands never stopped playing with her gorgeous tits, and her lips parted, a thin trickle of saliva escaping to drip down onto her chest.
I nearly came just from watching Kristin slip deep, becoming the obedient little kitten-slave she had dreamed of becoming.
"The triggers are fairly simple." I jerked, hearing Connor's voice. In my lust hazed mind, I'd almost completely forgotten he was there. Fuck. A domme should have more poise. He'd tried to put me under once. He knew I was a switch, albeit untrained from either direction. I'd had to fight harder than I'd believed possible to keep him from pulling me under. The need to learn from him and my own competitive nature were the only things that had saved me. Without those, I know for fact he'd have had his cock buried inside me within an hour. Fortunately for me, he'd slightly underestimated me. I got the training I wanted, and that set me on the path to claiming Kristin.
I looked over at him and smiled.
"She looks delightful. Can she hear us?"
"Of course. Unless we preface our words with a command phrase though, it's in one ear, out the other. She hears us, but it's akin to hearing conversations at adjacent tables in a restaurant. Background noise, if you will."
"What commands are there?" I walked around Kristen as she drooled and massaged, giving the occasional twitch.
"I'll write them down. If I tell them to you with her here, she'll be triggered instantly. She was a fantastically responsive subject, and I had more than enough time to get the entire list implanted, and then a few surprises."
I frowned.
"Don't worry, I didn't give her any extra triggers we didn't discuss beforehand." He smiled placatingly. "All the surprises are just verbal mantras she'll recite when certain triggers happen, just to embed the commands more."
"Then do we even need more sessions?" I asked askance.
"To make them work, no. To keep them from fading and losing efficacy, yes." He leaned back and put a finger to his lips. "Think of it like this. Hypnosis is like digging a well. Every session digs it a little deeper. The mantras reinforce the walls of the well. The well's water bucket is her consciousness. The deeper the well goes, the farther she is able to sink. More sessions, deeper well. More mantras, stronger supports."
I nodded. It made sense.
"I'll send you a link with some commands. She'll go straight into trance. It'll be helpful if you find a few spirals or something."
"Seriously?" I raised an eyebrow.
He grinned.
"Sure. It works if she thinks it'll work." He shrugged. "Enjoy."
I left, looping the leash I had through Kristen's collar. She followed, hands kneading at her bare tits as I walked her through the now empty house. My phone beeped, and I saw the link he'd sent me with a list of trigger phrases and their effects.
When we got home, I smiled and led her into the bedroom. It was almost four in the morning, but I had an itch that needed to be scratched before I could sleep. I brought the list back up.
"Hmm. Ah, here. Kitty Kristen likes her milk."
My little pet jerked, and her pupils dilated. Kristen lifted her head and she looked at me. I swear, the little slut literally pounced. We rolled across the bed, ending with her on top. She lips sought my chest, and she began to suck and lick at my nipples.
Her hands slid between my legs, fingers slipping inside me as she sucked and licked, her eyes blank and empty. It only took a few short minutes, and I was screaming in orgasm. Kristen looked up for just a moment as I collapsed, and switched to my other breast, her hands still moving in a blur between my thighs. I had to command her to stop, or she would have kept going and going.
I pulled up my phone and brought up another trigger before setting an alarm.
"Swedish kitten." I rolled onto my stomach and groaned as she began to dig her elbows and thumbs deep into my back, massaging the knots out as I drifted off. I could swear, as I fell asleep, I heard her murmuring to herself.
"Pretty titties make me weak. Pretty titties make me obey. Pretty titties make me empty..."
I woke late the next afternoon, my body still feeling weak and relaxed after her massage. I rang the bell at my bedside, and Kristen burst into the room, her eyes alight with joy and excitement. We laughed and joked, talked about how it felt to her. The blush rarely left her face, and it didn't take long before she was subtly squirming.
"Pretty kitty loves my titties."
Kristen jerked, her pupils dilating as she moaned. I lay back on the bed, and Kristen sat on my hips, her hands going straight for my chest as she shrugged off her flimy bra.
"Pretty kitty loves your titties. Soft chest soft mind. Squeeze them empty." Kristen began to squeeze and stroke, pinching my nipples.
"Squeeze out the thoughts. Soft chest soft mind. Squeeze them empty."
And it continued like that for days. I would come home and she would be eagerly awaiting me, ready to be tranced again. I would trigger her via text, and she'd be drooling, naked and slowly masturbating as she mumbled her mantras.
I would wake up and whisper in her ear as she slept, waking her just enough to understand me before dropping her back down into empty obedience.
"Mind drip, panties drop. Drip drop. Mind drip panties drop. Drip drop."
"Kitten belongs to Mistress. Mistress and her happiness is everything."
"Obedience brings pleasure. Pleasure brings obedience."
"Touch, rub, play, taste. Touch, rub, play, taste."
Over and over again, I would fall asleep to Kristen's mumbling voice. It even got to the point where her soft muttering helped me drift off to sleep. But my favorite, my absolute favorite?
"Squeeze out the thoughts. Soft chest, soft mind. Squeeze them empty. Squeeze out the thoughts. Soft chest, soft mind, squeeze them empty. Squeeze out the thoughts. Soft chest, soft mind. Squeeze them empty. Squeeze out the thoughts. Soft chest, soft mind, squeeze them empty. Squeeze out the thoughts. Soft chest, soft mind. Squeeze them empty. Squeeze out the thoughts. Soft chest, soft mind, squeeze them empty."
It became an addiction. Falling asleep as I squeezed and played with her tits, her hands lightly running over mine. It felt so nice to just let go and drift away into sleep. Sometimes I'd load up a spiral, trigger her, and just sit back and watch as her brain melted, slowly dripping down, letting all her thoughts drip away until they pooled between her legs. When she was fully under, her mind totally empty, she'd mumble out a few words that always made my arousal skyrocket.
"My pussy thinks for me."
It sometimes got to the point where I would hear her mantras, even when she wasn't speaking.
By the time she was due for her second appointment, I was falling asleep to her soft massaging hands and the murmured mantras every night. I dropped her off and went home for a few hours before he called and asked me to come get her.
If I thought her triggers were strong before, this time was astonishing. I could speak a single word, and she reacted instantly. Just by telling her 'edge' she was moaning and squirming. I gave her that command every thirty seconds for the entire forty five minute drive home.
By the time I pulled her by her leash through the front door, she was vibrating and quivering with need. I stuffed her face between my legs and made her lick me as I forced edge after edge on her, only letting her cum when her lips and tongue brought me to my own explosive release.
I teased and played with her for hours, never once bringing her out of trance. That night, I fell asleep to her breasts brushing my face, her voice in my ears.
"I love to obey.
I live to obey.
Obedience is happiness.
Obedience brings pleasure.
Pleasure brings obedience.
I love to obey.
I live to obey.
Obedience is happiness.
Obedience brings pleasure.
Pleasure brings obedience.
I love to obey..."
Why
Yes. He slaps me. He spanks me. He leaves bruises and welts. He makes my skin red and raw. He marks my body. But he doesn't bruise my heart.
The pain burns it all away. The excesses. The clutter. He makes me cry in pain. But he never gives me hurt. The pain clears my mind. Keeps me focused on the here and now. The worries and stresses, the 'what ifs' disappear in bright, blinding flashes as the crops and paddles sing. Because it lets me focus again. I'm grounded again. I see what's important again.
Yes. He pulls my hair. He yanks and jerks. He makes my scalp burn. He leads me as I crawl at his side. He heaps humiliation on me. Calls me names. Yes, he makes me feel worthless.
Because when he pushes me low, then turns around and praises me, the burdens fall away. The doubts. The fears. The inadequacies. I feel weightless. I can soar. I am strong again. From those heights, I can spread my wings and fly free of the burdens. Not because he breaks me down. Because he shows me that just because others say I am not worthy, that does not mean they are right. He pushes me down, so when I leap, I reach the sky.
Yes, he chokes me. He takes my breath. He controls the thing I need to live. He makes me struggle and fight for air. Over and over, he'll make me strain and gasp, pleading for just a single breath.
Not because he wants me to suffer. Because he wants me to fight. Fight to live. Struggle through the days and nights ahead. Push myself through the darkness and hurt that will come. Because he wants me to fight to live the best I can. To help me see that I want life.
Yes, he controls my meals. He dictates what I can eat, when and how much. He denies me treats and indulgences. He tells me when I will exercise, and for how long. Not because he wants me to be 'perfect'. He says I already am.
He wants me healthy. He wants me around for years. It means so much more when he allows that skip day. That small treat. The little indulgence. Because I know I've earned it. I deserve it. I deserve the chance to enjoy the rewards that come with the discipline.
Yes, he makes me submit. He makes me kneel. Beg. He makes me follow and obey. Not because he needs to break me.
Because he knows that I'm happiest when I am cared for. Because he takes my stress and worry, my anxiety and fear away. He shoulders those burdens for me. He carries the weight, so I don't have to. I don't need to decide, to plan, to stress. He will do those for me. He frees me when I wear his collar.
Yes, he claims me. Uses my body. Holds me down and takes me. He ties me to beds, tosses me over furniture. He makes me scream and shake. He makes me beg him to stop, then beg for more.
Not because he needs to command and punish. Because he gives me the pleasure I so deeply crave. Not just accepting that dark, deep part of my soul. Embracing it. Bringing my fears of judgment and shame into the light. So he can show me that there is no shame to be found. No judgment to be seen. He embraces my darkness, shining his light on my secrets, showing me the truth.
I do not need to hide who I am.
Yes, he does all these things to me.
He does all these things for me.
He gives me what I need. His touch. His time. His heart. His respect. He gives me more than I thought I could ever ask for.
You can say he hurts and takes and controls. On the surface, it may seem that way. You don't understand the truth. He does all those things and none, because late at night, when the shadows and fears close in, when I am scared and raw, exhausted and battered, sick of life and worry?
He gives me back safety. Love. He gives everything.
That is why I call him Sir.
(Part 1 of a story request by @dommeana. This was meant to be a stand alone story, but due to time constraints on my part and a storytelling aspect I feel is necessary to tell this story right, I will be breaking this story up into 2 or 3 parts, perhaps more if it takes on a life of it's own.)
I knelt by the door into Mistress Ana's bedroom, waiting in the lingerie Mistress Ana had left for me by my doggy bed that morning. When I heard her keys turn in the lock, my heart leapt and I had to fight to control my excited wiggling. She came into the room, ccoing and telling me what a good, pretty, obedient pet I was for her. I couldn't have stopped my brilliant smile, even if I wanted to. Mistress Ana stripped down and I dutifully placed her work clothes in the laundry and layed out her selected evening wear. When she was done, I helped her dress, and knelt to show her my devotion.
Mistress Ana took me to a party. It was kind of fun, I have to admit. Everyone there was in the lifestyle too, and if was so fun being able to sit with other people like me and just chat about our experiences. Comparing day collars, disciplinary techniques we had experienced, rules to follow, etc. It was really freeing.
Mistress Ana eventually reclaimed me, saying she had a friend she wanted me to meet. She had met him before I had surrendered to her, and hadn't seen him in years. She led me over to him and I did my best to please Mistress Ana, introducing myself with a smile and making pleasant small talk.
Eventually the conversation wound around to how they had met, and he joked that he had been part of an erotic hypnosis group on campus. I must have done something, because his eyes got this dark, knowing look in them.
Mistress Ana was a great domme, kind and giving, making sure my impulses were kept in check, giving me pleasure and happiness, rules and guides to help me. She put cream on my welts, she held me after our sessions. She made sure I was healthy, happy and loved. But... Mistress Ana wasn't a hypnotist.
We had made a few attempts, but it just didn't seem to work. Yet... it was something I craved. I wanted it so desperately. I didn't just want to be tied down. I wanted to have her reach into my mind and play. I ached for it. The feeling of having 'choice' be a foreign concept. Having my control, my will, my essence be slowly, gently stolen away. Being helpless, not just physically, but physically, mentally, emotionally. To have my thoughts be smothered with a simple snap of her fingers, leaving my mind empty, leaving nothing of me but an empty physical shell, ready to accept commands.
Mistress Ana suggested we find some place a little more private, and I felt my knees begin to shake. I looked up at her as we followed him down a hallway, but she narrowed her eyes and shook her head. I remained silent. We followed him into a room and Mistress shut the door behind us. She commanded me to heel.
I sank to my knees at her side, almost purring as her fingers threaded into my hair. She stroked my head, her nails scratching my scalp, fingers coiling around the strands as she absently played. Mistress told me remain silent and still, so I did, kneeling at her side while they talked.
What she wanted him to do. How she wanted him to play with my mind. The triggers she wanted him to implant. The commands that my body would obey before my mind could even comprehend the words she used.
I was so turned on.
He told her he wanted to try hypnotizing her again, and I jerked in surprise. Mistress felt it and giggled, telling me that he had been the one to introduce her into domination and submission. He had been dating a friend of Mistress in college, and had discovered hypnosis as a kink. They'd made a bet, if he could hypnotize her, she would be his pet. If not, he'd teach her everything he knew.
She just couldn't get into the hypnosis, and so he had shown her everything she knew. I shivered, my arousal growing stronger as I realized he was just as capable of breaking me as she was. They discussed their deal as if I wasn't even there, which made it even worse.
Finally, they agreed, she would give him one chance to try again in two months. During that time, she would drop me off with him for five hours each week before coming back for me. He had that time to play with my mind as he saw fit.
Mistress stood, shook his hand, and tugged me to my feet. She smiled, slid her finger through my collar and walked towards the door. Just before she got close enough to open it, she swung me around, backed up against it and jerked down on my collar.
"Kneel."
My knees hit the floor as Mistress lifted her skirt.
"Lick."
I whimpered, embarrassed and aroused, but Mistress Ana had trained me too well. Her fingers threaded into my hair as I leaned forward, my lips and tongue eagerly seeking to give her pleasure.
She was already wet, just like I was. We were both soaked, knowing that soon I would be an empty, mindlessly obedient shell. He would wipe everything inside my mind away and give Mistress Ana the keys. When he was done with me, she could reshape and remake my mind as she saw fit.
I moaned into her pussy as I felt his hand rest between my shoulderblades. His other hand began to lightly stroke my stomach, making my abs flutter as Mistress Ana hissed in pleasure.
"Pleasing others feels good, doesn't it?" He whispered in my ear, his breath teasing my skin.
"Mmmhhmmm..." I could only moan in response, Mistress Ana's clit dancing around as I played, using the tip of my tongue.
"It's so easy to obey. Letting yourself sink down, letting the world fall away,
You may start to feel your worries and your stress just slipping away as you listen to my words. Obedience is so easy, so natural. You don't have to think, don't have to worry. All you need to do is obey and sink. Sink deeper and deeper.
It feels so relaxing to let go of your worries. You don't need to think about anything, it is so much easier to just obey and relax.
Listen to my words, let them take you deeper and deeper, making obedience easier and easier.
Good girl.
Obedient, deep and relaxed now. You don't need to make any effort, this deep, relaxed, obedient feeling coming so naturally to you. It feels so good to you as you simply relax more with each word you hear and you slowly, gradually, fall deeper into obedience, closer to trance.
You might feel yourself going deeper, and then deeper still. You can feel that bliss of totally empty obedience getting closer. The obedience washing away your thoughts, making it feel so natural to slip deeper and deeper.
You can feel yourself enjoying slipping away, and falling deeper into pure obedience. Soft, comforting, thoughtless obedience.
The more you hear, the more you feel your thoughts draining away. There's no need to think, it's much easier to relax and go deeper.
Even deeper.
A little deeper, and you can feel so relaxed. So obedient, so empty. So wonderful.
You find yourself relaxing more and more, feeling more and more compliant, a little more obedient, a bit more open to suggestion. You can just keep feeling more and more relaxed and empty. It feels so easy. So natural. It feels so good to be empty and obedient.
I want you to go even deeper and feel the relaxation and obedience fill your body and mind. Just let your whole body relax and your thoughts slip away. Just soft, empty, compliant obedience. Deeper still. It's so easy to relax. So easy to obey, compliant and relaxed.
Compliant, obedient, empty but more and more relaxed as you go deeper and deeper, and deeper still.
So relaxing....
Now I am going to count down from 5 to 1. You will feel yourself relax more and more as I count, and with each number that passes you can find yourself feeling more comfortable, more empty, more compliant... more obedient and relaxed...
As you grow more comfortable, and more relaxed, with each passing number, it feels so easy to just relax and listen, relax and obey my words. Listening and obeying my words comes so easily to you, just by relaxing and continuing to feel so empty and obedient.
Deeper and deeper now.... and I will begin to count down now...
5
Just more and more relaxed... relaxed and obedient...
4
Feel yourself slip away into this deep state of trance. A comfortable and relaxing trance...
3
So very deep now, so relaxed and comfortable, and obedient...
2
Almost there... so close to a complete relaxing trance...
1
You are now totally in trance.
You can continue to feel that wonderful relaxing feeling as you fall deeper and deeper into pure obedience. You may find that as you listen, it becomes so much easier for you to fall deeper with every breath and that the deeper you fall, the more relaxing it is to listen. Every breath in scatters your thoughts, every breath out releases them, letting your thoughts, stress and worries fade away into nothingness, leaving only empty obedience behind.
As you fall deeper into empty obedience, it becomes so much easier for you to listen and obey. Obey and relax. Relaxed and empty. Empty and obedient.
So open to suggestion, and so comfortable, so deep and feeling wonderful..."
I felt my mind slip away, and pleasure I'd never known washed over me. I don't know how long it lasted, but it was heaven.
*SNAP*
I woke on my knees, Master sitting on the edge of the bed next to me. My brain felt like I was stuck in a thick, soupy fog, and I groaned, my sore stomach aching.
Mistress was standing in the doorway, and Master handed her my leash. I looked over at the clock and was stunned. It was three AM, and I had spent five hours in trance. Mistress looked down at me and giggled. Master snapped his fingers next to my ear, and I suddenly realized my hands were kneading my tits, lifting them up as if presenting my nipples to Mistress as a gift.
I gaped as I tried to drop them, move them, get them to stop. Nothing worked. I could feel the arousal growing, despite the familiar soreness in my stomach that told me I had just cum my empty, relaxed, compliant, obedient brains out dozens of times.
Wait, why did I think about my empty, relaxed, compliant, obedient mind. I meant my empty,.relaxed, compliant, obedient mind... n-no... my empty, relaxed, compliant, obedient mind! No, dammit I-I m-meant m-my em-empty, relaxed, c-compliant, ob-obedient m-mind... wuh whuts goo.. gooing... onn... I me-mean muh.. my e-empty...
Empty.
Relaxed.
Compliant.
Obedient.
(Final chapter in the story for the wonderful @leolover721. Let her know how much you appreciated her being my willing victim for these stories. Chapter contains dehumanization, mind break, cnc, prey, identity disassociation, slavery)
Once fuckmeat had the perfect body to use in serving, Master, Mistress, Sirs and Misses, Master made some changes to training. Fuckmeat had been able to deepthroat even the thickest and longest cocks for months. So Master trained It in breath control. It soon was able to keep cock in It's throat for almost two minutes before passing out.
It learned to swallow while deepthroating, stroking cocks with It's throathole. It was taught how to deepthroat and lick Master's sack at the same time. Fuckmeat trained relentlessly, It desperately needed to meet Master's expectations. When fuckmeat got Master to fill It's stomach with cum, just by jacking his cock by swallowing him while he kept his glorious meat buried in It's throathole, Master was very pleased. Fuckmeat was trained to be able to orgasm when It was given cum as a treat, if given permission to do so.
It was given TENS units, and trained for hours every day, so fuckmeat could learn to train all the muscles inside It's holes. Fuckmeat got used to training from dawn to dusk. When fuckmeat was strong enough, It was able to massage Master while he lay back in bed. It took many, many attempts, and fuckmeat was beaten and assfucked dozens of times for failing. Still, fuckmeat finally managed to make Master fill It's cunt just by squeezing and stroking him, all without moving It's hips. Then fuckmeat trained to do the same when a cock was buried in It's ass. Master brought back one of the first Sirs that fuckmeat had been rented to. Fuckmeat had spent almost three full days with Sir's cock only spurting cum into It's guts. Fuckmeat was thrilled when It was praised after making both Master and Sir cum inside It without any movement except fuckmeat squeezing.
Master was very pleased, and started renting fuckmeat out more often. It had long since learned how to take hours of punishments and fuck for several hours, and still be able and willing to plead with any Sir for more.
Master began training it in etiquette and protocol. Proper behavior in given situations. Much more detailed training than fuckmeat had before. Not just enthusiasm and eagerness, but how to seduce to best effect. How to tease Sirs with long slow blowjobs, as well as brutal throathole fucking. How to beg seductively, as well as scream and cry, wailing for mercy It knew wouldn't come. It was shown how to apply makeup and jewelry to emphasize It's role. How to hide what fuckmeat really was while out in public.
Master rewarded fuckmeat for learning the lessons by fucking It in the ass in the parking lot at a fancy restaurant. Fuckmeat had to stay in the car while Master and Mistress ate. Master tipped the valet by letting him stick his cock through the window for fuckmeat to suck and play with. Fuckmeat swallowed four loads before Master and Mistress returned.
Master got an email from some friends, other fuckmeat trainers. They were having a weekend get together, up at the hunting lodge. Master took fuckmeat with him, and the Masters all played a game. They all had tranq guns, and each fuckmeat would be bound and let loose to run. Master told fuckmeat that the tranquilizers wouldn't knock any of the fuckmeats out, they would drain energy and leave the fuckmeats helpless, practically paralyzed, while the hunter got to use that piece of fuckmeat for the rest of the time at the lodge.
Fuckmeat was so excited, Master had said if fuckmeat was the last to be caught, when He got fuckmeat back to his home, he would give it so many orgasms it would pass out. If fuckmeat was caught before then, fuckmeat would spend a full day on the Andrews cross with a hot sauce lubricated dildo fucking it's ass. The other fuckmeats looked scared, but Master smiled at his fuckmeat. It was eager. Master kept his promise. Fuckmeat had so many orgasms when Master brought it back, fuckmeat was begging for them to stop.
Master made sure that every day, fuckmeat was fed and healthy, so he could rent It's holes. He kept it bound and helpless, which only made fuckmeat wetter. Fuckmeat was in heaven. Every day, It got to experience the endless blessings of Master's attention. Until one day... It didn't.
Fuckmeat woke, but Master was not in the room. The door was open, but fuckmeat saw neither Master nor Mistress. Fear gripped fuckmeat. Not fear of pain. Master had long ago ensured that fuckmeat knew it was built to accept pain.
Fear of not having Master. He wasn't there. It... It had no one to lead it. To direct it. To give it the orders It needed so It could obey. It thought of searching for Master or Mistress, but It had never been allowed beyond the door without at least one of them. Fuckmeat froze, weeping, unable to choose. It was not there to choose, only obey. Fuckmeat looked around, desperate, until It saw the rubber cock It used for throathole training. Throathole training always was first thing after fuckmeat woke. Frantically, fuckmeat scrambled for the rubber shaft, almost moaning in relief when it felt the familiar, wondrous feeling of a cock in It's throathole.
When fuckmeat had finished all the repetitions required of it, fuckmeat crawled to It's bowls, ate and drank, and moved on to ass and cunt strengthening. Then fuckmeat had It's daily workout, keeping It's body fit for Master. The entire day passed, and fuckmeat squealed, crying in relief when Master reappeared in the doorway. He entered the room, and fuckmeat bowed as It had been shown.
Master collared It, and told It that fuckmeat would train alone from then on, as Master was too busy to constantlywatch such a useless set of holes, but fuckmeat was happy. Master refilled the bowls and left. From then on, Master used fuckmeat when he pleased, but fuckmeat followed the training Master had set out alone. It always worked to exhaustion to please Master.
One day, Master came back and told fuckmeat to follow. He took a picture of fuckmeat and had fuckmeat crawl into Master's lap. His cock slid easily into It's cunt, since fuckmeat was always wet for Master. The sight of him and the smell of his skin never failed to make It drip with need.
Master brought up a picture on his computer. It was a very pretty woman. She seemed very happy. Fuckmeat thought she looked vaguely familiar, but couldn't remember who the woman was.
Master asked if fuckmeat knew the woman's name. Fuckmeat expected to be punished when It said It had no idea who the woman was. Master asked again. Fuckmeat whined, repeating that It had no clue. Master's hands wrapped around It's neck and began squeezing. He bent fuckmeat over the table as he fucked It from behind. He shoved fuckmeat against the screen as he threatened It with endless punishment unless fuckmeat told him the woman's name.
Fuckmeat choked and cried, whining and squealing as It came while Master fucked It while he choked It out. It couldn't remember the woman. It tried to think of every Miss that It had serviced. Every person It had seen on one of Master's excursions. Fuckmeat didn't know. It didn't remember who the woman was.
Fuckmeat begged and pleaded, swearing up and down that It didn't know. Fuckmeat was pleading with Master, begging him for mercy, screaming that It didn't know. Finally, Master let go of It's neck, grabbed It by the hair and lifted It from the desk. He clicked a button and another picture came on screen.
"And does fuckmeat know this one?"
Fuckmeat nearly wept in relief. It did know what was in that picture.
"Master, that is fuckmeat."
"Very good. Very, very good. Fuckmeat has permission to cum hard now."
Fuckmeat wailed as It came, It's body and mind so deep under Master's control that just the simple act of giving permission was taken as a command, and It obeyed. It always obeyed.
From then on, fuckmeat lived next to Master. It was taken to Master's bed. The doors were left unlocked. The cages, chains and collars used for aesthetics or fun. Fuckmeat was home, and Master's side was where It belonged. It trained by day, pleasured and obeyed by night.
Fuckmeat was happy.
Fuckmeat was grateful.
Fuckmeat was property.
Fuckmeat was Master's toy.
Fuckmeat was there to give pleasure.
Fuckmeat was there to accept pain.
Fuckmeat was less than human.
Fuckmeat's only value was from It's holes.
Fuckmeat's only purpose was to obey.
It always obeyed.
It would never disobey again.
It loved the obedience too much.
It was too happy as a stupid, braindead, useless, piece of cum addicted fuckmeat.
Fuckmeat always obeyed.
(Part six of the ongoing tale of fuckmeat for @leolover721. Just one chapter left after this, then back to our regularly scheduled smut. Check out @leolover721. She is incredible and gorgeous. Body modification, humiliation, slavery, mind break.)
Fuckmeat was in heaven. After It's first night with a Sir, It was rented out at least once a week. Master always picked up fuckmeat and asked each Sir what Master could do to improve fuckmeat.
Their answers varied as much as each different Sir did, but there were some common themes. Big, soft, dick sucking lips. Full, bouncing, bolt-on tits. Piercings, tattoos, fitter body, dumber, more eager.
Master put fuckmeat on a strict exercise regimen, not to burn fat, fuckmeat was already skinny. Master wanted fuckmeat to build muscle. He said that some of the Sirs wanted fuckmeat to struggle when they fucked It. It made it hotter for them when fuckmeat struggled and cried.
Master told fuckmeat about every last suggestion, and It got wetter and wetter with every one. All It wanted was to be a perfect piece of fuckmeat for Master. He told it that the money made from renting fuckmeat would pay for It's improvement. Fuckmeat rubbed It's cunt on Master's shoe, aroused and needy, thinking about becoming Master's new and improved fuckdoll, while Master made plans.
Master would buy It new, overfilled tits. Master would own them. Master would buy It new lips. Master would own them. Master made fuckmeat pick how fat It's lips would be, and fuckmeat found the perfect thickness, knowing Master would love sliding his magnificent shaft between It's new cockpillows.
He told fuckmeat how he would own It's lips and tits, giving him even more of a right to use them as he pleased. Fuckmeat found the idea strange, since Master already owned every inch of It's body, but still, the thought made fuckmeat happy and excited.
He told fuckmeat about how he wanted It's nipples pierced, so they would be easier for Master to hurt, punish and clamp. Fuckmeat begged permission to cum, the idea of Master hurting It more made fuckmeat drip onto the floor. He made fuckmeat look for and choose the piercings he would get for It to wear on the new and improved tits that fuckmeat carried around for him.
He told It how he would have fuckmeat get a septum piercing, so he could leash It's face. How he could lock it to his belt, keeping her mouth on Master's cock for as long as he wanted, hands free.
Master slid his cock into fuckmeat's cunt as It rode him while It chose the tongue piercing that Master would give it to make fuckmeat's blowjobs better. Fuckmeat begged permission to cum, and was given permission twice before It found the perfect piercing. With a simple twist, the piercing buzzed, which would make fuckmeat's tongue vibrate too. Much better for Master.
Fuckmeat was so happy to have such a wonderful, caring Master. He found so many ways that fuckmeat was inadequate, and he made sure It improved. It was so lucky to have a Master that cared so much about It.
Master also had a tattoo that he wanted fuckmeat to get. The tattoo would always remind It of the role It held, how lucky It was to have found a Master that spent so much time and effort on his fuckmeat. He told It that the tattoo would be on the back of It's neck, above where It's collar rested. That way everyone who saw it would know that fuckmeat had accepted It's place. Fuckmeat came again at the thought.
Master made all the appointments, taking fuckmeat along when it came time. The first one was to a plastic surgeon, and Master told fuckmeat that he worked with Master before, so fuckmeat didn't have to worry about him. It was such a relief not to have to worry about hiding what fuckmeat was to Master. It never wanted Master to leave It. Fuckmeat needed Master. It... It loved Master. It didn't deserve him. Fuckmeat knew It always had to do the best It could, so Master would be pleased with It.
By the time fuckmeat was ready to get the new tits that Master had paid for, months had passed and many, many different Sirs had used fuckmeat's holes for their pleasure. Fuckmeat's daily training had paid off, and each Sir seemed more and more thrilled with fuckmeat when they used It.
Master had gifted fuckmeat with a navel piercing when fuckmeat had serviced a hundred Sirs, and a clit hood piercing that circled It's clit when It hit the one year anniversary of fuckmeat beginning It's training under him. The clit piercing rubbed and stroked fuckmeat with every step, and the pleasure was five times stronger when fuckmeat was forced to crawl.
By the time fuckmeat's new and improved tits healed, Master was so happy. He said that fuckmeat had done very well, and It's holes were now worth twice as much. Fuckmeat squealed with delight, and begged to be allowed to suck Master's cock in celebration. He came down It's throat twice before fuckmeat needed to move to the spanking table for more of It's daily training.
It took very little time after that for fuckmeat to reach higher levels of perfection for Master. It's lips ballooned with permanent silicone implants. It's nipples were pierced and chained for Master's pleasure. It's septum was given a piercing, with variable rings. Some were to make fuckmeat prettier, some could be hidden, and some could lock in place, doubling as a leash ring.
It's neck was branded with Master's proof of ownership. When fuckmeat was being marked for Master, he said he had a surprise for It, and handed fuckmeat the rag. It knew what Master wanted, and placed the ether soaked cloth over It's face. The last thing fuckmeat heard was Master telling the tattoo artist he could use fuckmeat's holes as a tip.
When fuckmeat woke, cum was still dripping from It's ass and cunt, but when fuckmeat looked down at It's holes, fuckmeat stopped in shock. Fuckmeat had a second tattoo. It was beautiful. It was perfect. It... it was exactly the thing that fuckmeat had never known it needed.
On either side of the fuzzy little strip of cuntfur that some Sirs wanted fuckmeat to have, was tattooed a reminder. A declaration. Anyone who used fuckmeat would know exactly what It's role and purpose was in life. It was humiliated and embarrassed. It was aroused and grateful.
It was fuckmeat.
(Part five of the tale of @leolover721, maledom, auction, BBC, bondage, slavery, toys, breeding risk.)
The tugging of my leash woke me, Master and Mistress standing outside my cage. I crawled out before kneeling, butt resting back on my heels, knees parted at ninety degrees. My elbows touched behind my back, and I lifted my head, mouth open and tongue out.
Mistress praised me, her gloved fingers stroking my cheek as I blushed. I was good. Fuckmeat was learning well. My eyes locked on the front of Master's pants, and I began to pant with need. My pussy was already wet. I was always wet for Master and Mistress.
Master showed me the cuffs, saying how well he had heard fuckmeat had done when It was delivered to the winner of Master's gangbang game. Fuckmeat had cooked and cleaned for the winner. It had sucked and fucked, showing It could be a good pet. An obedient toy. Fuckmeat had crawled and begged, It's holes open and eager for use. It had been a wonderful weekend, and fuckmeat had been returned to Master dripping cum and happily displaying the welts and reddened skin that the winner had given it.
Master told me that fuckmeat was ready for another game. My pussy flooded with arousal, hoping Master and Mistress would let fuckmeat give them the pleasure they deserved. They showed me the cuffs and gag, allowing fuckmeat to crawl to the bed. Mistress used makeup on fuckmeat, making It look all pretty.
Master moved fuckmeat as he pleased, which was his right. Fuckmeat obeyed, which was my duty. It crawled and posed, while Mistress took pictures. Fuckmeat nearly made a wet spot on the bed as Master told me what they were doing.
It was fuckmeat's first time being rented out, and Master was setting up bidding. Many men Master and Mistress knew wanted to play with fuckmeat, and I quivered with delighted anticipation. Master took me from the bed to a small room with a tiled floor. I crawled and posed for Mistress and her camera.
They had me put on clothing, which fuckmeat had not been allowed to wear inside Master's training places before. I knew it was to display me, making sure they bidders knew what fuckmeat was trained for. I obeyed happily, which pleased Master.
It took a long time, but It didn't mind. It's only job was obedience, and fuckmeat reveled in it. More and more pictures, this outfit, those bindings, these panties. Fuckmeat felt like a dress up doll. It was so happy. It knew it was just a toy for Master and Mistress, and if they decided to let others play with their toy, fuckmeat was expected to obey happily.
When Master and Mistress were done, they ordered fuckmeat to crawl under the table. Delight filled me, and I bit my lip, arousal flooding me even further at the thought of servicing both Master and Mistress.
I licked and sucked them as they discussed which pictures to post. My mouth hummed and tongue swirled as Master debated with Mistress at where to start the bidding. They settled on 'Free'. I nearly came at the thought of it. Even when he wasn't addressing me directly, Master made sure fuckmeat knew It's value.
None.
Only fuckmeat's holes gave it value. Mistress moaned as I licked her, laughing as she told fuckmeat that men were bidding in pennies. By the time she came on fuckmeat's tongue, Master's bidding war was all the way up to six whole dollars!
It didn't end quickly. By the time the bidding ended, Mistress had allowed fuckmeat to lick her to three orgasms, and Master had blessed fuckmeat by cumming twice in It's mouth, and twice deep in It's ass.
The next day, Master and Mistress spent an hour on the phone before having fuckmeat crawl to the spanking table. Master tied me down while Mistress went over what fuckmeat was expected to do for the winner.
He was to be referred to as 'Sir'. His demands were to be met immediately. His pleasure was fuckmeat's purpose. Whatever he chose for fuckmeat to wear, It would wear. Whatever punishment given, for whatever reason, was to be accepted without hesitation or complaint. It was Sir's toy for the next three days. Master spent two hours on my ass with the crop, saying Sir wanted me warmed up for him. Sir expected It to be enthusiastic and eager when he arrived.
I couldn't wait.
They delivered me while Sir was away, so he would have me waiting when he returned. Fuckmeat was to wait in the front hall, and Master made sure that fuckmeat was prepared for Sir.
It wasn't waiting long after Master and Mistress left. When the door swung open, I felt my eyes widen. He. Was. Huge. His shoulders filled the doorframe, and he barely fit under the top of it. Thick, corded muscles rippled under the tight tee shirt, and glistening ebony skin made fuckmeat's mouth water. It couldn't wait to taste Sir's skin.
Sir wasted no time, and his pants hit the floor. A thick, ponderous shaft jutted from between his legs. Fuckmeat drooled through the ring gag, filled with terrified arousal as It thought of the destruction such a glorious cock would wreak on It's tiny body. Sir grabbed the back of It's head, lining up It's mouth with the shaft.
Fuckmeat wanted to lunge down onto it, burying the magnificent cock inside It's throat. But... Sir had not told fuckmeat to move. Sir thrust once, immediately filling It's mouth and pushing into It's throat. The shaft was almost as thick as fuckmeat's wrist, and only just fit through the massive ring gag.
It coughed and choked, gurgling around the thick meat. Fuckmeat knew what Msster, Mistress and Sir expected. It licked and squirmed, letting Sir dictate the pace as Fuckmeat's mouth was used as a facecunt. The flavor was indescribable, and fuckmeat felt It's mind shrink away, letting It sink into the passive, vulnerable, helpless place that allowed fuckmeat to revel in abuse and sex. When Sir tired of fuckmeat's weak attempts to pleasure Sir, he gripped It's hair and pulled.
Fuckmeat's throat bulged, distending as he buried over ten inches of cock into fuckmeat's face. It squirmed, the thin, flimsy lace panties It wore were dripping wet, totally saturated with arousal. It swallowed and gurgled, massaging Sir as he fucked It's face, using her as his plaything.
It's tongue slid out, barely able to make it between the cock and ring, licking Sir's sack whenever the heavy weights swung close enough. He held fuckmeat down, stuffing her nose against his rippling abs. Fuckmeat's vision grew dark, blackness nibbling at the edges. Then fuckmeat felt it. The pulsing, throbbing of Sir's magnificent cock as he unloaded his cum directly into fuckmeat's stomach. Heat bloomed in It's belly, and fuckmeat felt bliss. It had given Sir pleasure.
It was content, then. Happy.
Euphoric.
Sir pulled free, using fuckmeat's hair to drag It to It's feet. He grunted a single word that crashed into fuckmeat's mind like a hammerblow. Obedience was expected. Obedience was law.
"Follow."
Fuckmeat's knees shook with expectation, it's fuckhole dripped with need. The leash swung as fuckmeat followed Sir. He let It to a bedroom, roughly shoving fuckmeat onto the bed before tearing off the nipple coverings that Mistress had placed. Cuffs locked fuckmeat's arms behind It's back, and rope wrapped It's legs, binding thighs to calves.
Fuckmeat nearly came when Sir shredded It's panties with his bare hands, but managed to fight it off. Cool lube dripped across it's holes, and Sir's cock, still hard as stone, pressed against It's ass. Fuckmeat squealed when he pushed, but shuddered with bliss as he forced his way in. One long, slow thrust made fuckmeat's eyes roll back when Sir buried himself fully into It's tiny backdoor.
His heavy, long, battering thrusts buried him inside It, and fuckmeat couldn't hold back, cumming every six or seven strokes. He pressed a wand against fuckmeat's clit, and It felt It's weak, pathetic mind shatter.
Broken.
Dominated.
Helpless.
Cumming.
Cumming.
Cumming.
Cumming.
Cumming.
Cumming...
Fuckmeat woke, Sir pulling back on It's hair as he rode It from behind, his thick, wondrous cock battering her womb, filling It with every brutal thrust.
It hurt so good.
It was glorious.
Fuckmeat wondered if It would ever reach this level of bliss again.
Hot cum flooded into It's womb as Sir grunted into fuckmeat's ear.
"Get bred, bitch. I'm gonna breed your ass this weekend. No rubbers. I'm gonna fuck It til it breaks."
Fuckmeat squealed as it came again, shuddering and spasming, wailing and begging for more. Sir pulled free, letting his cum drip out of Fuckmeat's stretched hole. His hand pushed it to the floor, and fuckmeat immediately began cleaning his cum and It's arousal off of Sir.
When Sir was clean, fuckmeat slid Sir all the way down into It's facecunt, and it felt like Sir was nudging It's collarbone. Fuckmeat came again. It pulled free, looking up at Sir as his shaft began to harden again.
"It is your toy, Sir. It is your fuckmeat. What does Sir desire next?"
He grinned down at me.
Fuckmeat was thrilled when Sir pulled out the flogger, wand and ballgag.
Ten minutes later, fuckmeat was screaming into the gag, cumming over and over as Sir pounded It's unprotected pussy. The wand tied against It's clit buzzed without pause or mercy, and fuckmeat squealed and shrieked as the flogger lashed It's bare tits.
It was cumming for Sir.
It was breaking for Sir.
Cumming for Sir.
Breaking for Sir.
Cumming for Sir.
Breaking for Sir.
Cumming.
Breaking.
Cumming.
Breaking.
Cumming Breaking cumming breaking cumming breaking cumming breaking cummingbreakingcummingbreaking
cummingbreakingcummingbreaking cummingbreakingcummingbreaking
Fuckmeat broke...
(Part 4 of the requested series by @leolover721. Maledom, gangbang, gags, slave training, mind break)
My life had completely changed from what it had been. I was kept bound or chained, my body a tapestry of welts and bruises. I lost track of time, exhaustion dragging me into unconsciousness on a daily basis.
There were no windows, and there were no clocks. It could have been days, weeks, or even months since Master first took me.
Some sessions Master trained me. How to crawl, how to endure pain and beg for more. Posture, posing and walking to emphasize my body's sexuality. Some sessions Mistress came over. She trained me in controlling my orgasms, edging me for hours, sometimes what felt like days. Sometimes it was the machines, building my endurance, increasing my sensitivity. Some days I was simply made to kneel, silent and still while Master kept busy.
Obedience was praised, and rewarded. Sometimes it was simply a gentle touch. Sometimes I was rewarded with food. Sometimes I was allowed an orgasm. Sometimes my reward was an extra hour of sleep.
I did my absolute best to be an obedient fuckmeat, but Master kept raising the goals. Pushing me further and further, harder and harder. If I couldn't make him cum with my mouth within the time frame he demanded, I was punished. I deserved it. Master was only trying to improve me. He told me so. The disappointment in his eyes hurt just as much as my punishments.
My body was his toy, my holes his property. My tits and ass his target practice. After I failed, Master always made me try again until I was able to satisfy his demands. I danced for him, rubbing and stroking. I fucked and rode him, passively letting him fuck my tits, throat, pussy, even my ass. Master realized how scared I was of taking cock in the ass at first. I would always squeal and scream, but after a few minutes I always found myself pushing back into him, craving more.
He degraded and humiliated me, taking pictures and laughing as I laid there gasping for breath, my body dripping sweat and cum.
Fuckpig. Slut. Cocksleeve. Useless trash. Stupid cunt. He made me call myself Master's little Facecunt. He had me refer to myself as 'holes'. I was forced to admit to him that my only value came from my cunt, ass, mouth and tits. He made me suck him while he watched porn, saying I wasn't worth looking at.
I hated it, but every time I degraded myself for his pleasure, I could feel the wetness between my legs grow. The part of me that delighted in his mistreatment grew stronger and stronger, and I found I kept referring to myself as fuckmeat. Facecunt. Fuckpig.
He made me beg. Plead. Every degrading forced orgasm was accompanied by a wail of gratitude as I thanked him for the gift of pleasure. Every night I was caged or bound, kept helpless. Every time I woke I was subjected to a new lesson, or new training.
My days were filled with humiliation, sex, abuse, pain, degradation and submission. It was becoming second nature to slip into subspace every time my eyes caught a glimpse of cock, real or not. He was breaking me and a growing part of me loved it.
Master finally let me out of the place he had kept me, binding my wrists with ropes, stuffing the ring-gag into my mouth. The cloth covered my nose and mouth, but I didn't struggle. Master wanted fuckmeat to sleep, so I obeyed and slept.
When I woke, Master half lifted me out of the van and he grabbed my arm, pulling me across broken and cracked concrete. There was a group of men under an overpass. They looked to be about my age, and I counted at least eight of them, maybe more.
Master led me right in front of them before turning to face me. His hands tore open the thin fabric of my shirt, letting my tits bounce free.
"Fuckmeat will entertain. If they want to fuck It, they will fuck It. If they want fuckmeat to suck, It will suck. If they want It to hurt, fuckmeat will suffer."
I lowered my eyes and thrust out my chest obediently, giving the group of men the show that I knew Master wanted. Master unzipped my skirt, letting it fall to the ground, showing the gathering of men my lack of underwear.
"Rules for the game, gentlemen. One, no permanent marks or damage. Fuckmeat's holes will be for rent once I'm done training It, and I will not accept a reduction in the value brought by It's holes."
My face flushed as my pussy started to drip as he casually degraded me. I fought to keep from rubbing my thighs together at the thought of being rented out.
"Each man has a different color marker. Each time you cum inside or on fuckmeat, make your mark. The first to ten will get a free weekend with fuckmeat to use any way you see fit. Enjoy."
Master shoved me into the group of men, and I stumbled, tripping over the skirt still puddled around my ankles. Before I could scream, hands grabbed at my body, tearing my ripped blouse away in seconds. A hand gripped my throat and I gasped for air as rough fingers slid inside me. They groped and squeezed, I felt like I was being buried in groping, pinching hands.
"Check it out. The little slut is already dripping wet."
I blushed as they laughed, and hands on my shoulders pushed me to my knees. The gag kept my mouth pried open, and immediately it was filled with a thick, pulsing cock. My wrists were untied, and my fingers were wrapped around another pair of pulsating rods.
I squirmed, heat suffusing my body as they grabbed my hair, shoving me down until my nose was crushed against their stomachs. I was pulled back, allowed a single breath and then shoved facefirst down onto a different cock.
They buried themselves in my throat, one after the other, until one decided he wanted more. Hands gripped my hips, pulling me to my feet. A heavy slap rocked my head around, and I gasped. Fingers pinched my nipples and a heavy hand slapped upwards, spanking my pussy. A hand gripped my hip, and another pushed between my shoulders, bending me in half.
One of them pushed from behind me, and I moaned like a whore when I felt him slide inside me. A hand lifted my head, and I felt and heard spit smack me in the face. Uncaring fingers smeared it over me, and the hand in my hair turned, allowing another man to deliver two heavy slaps to my face, making my head ring.
Then I was pulled down, the man leaning over me as he shoved me down on his cock. I shook and flailed, desperate for breath, but I couldn't fight so many men. They held me and restrained me, yanking me free just as the darkness began to nibble at my vision.
Thick trails of spit and slime splattered my bare chest as I gasped, panting for breath before I was buried in yet another man's stomach. Stinging spankings burned on my ass, and the man fucking me from behind jackhammered into my wet, needy pussy.
My throat bulged, a cock buried halfway to my collarbone as I came, squealing with bliss as I felt him paint my insides white. He was replaced in an instant by another man, and I felt wet saliva splat between the curves of my ass moments before he pushed hard, plunging deep into my backdoor.
My hands stroked, my tongue fluttered, my lips sucked, my hips shook. I couldn't keep up with them. Another man groaned, and I coughed and choked as he filled my throat, not letting me pull free until I swallowed everything he had to give.
Another smack made my head ring, and one of the men began slapping fuckmeat's cunt. Fuckmeat was so horny. She loved it. She needed it. Fuckmeat wanted cock. She needed cock. Fuckmeat wanted to CUM FOR COCKS!!!
My mind broke and afterwards I never quite remembered everything that happened. Little flashes, tiny moments. Half remembered scenes from a movie. I remember hands under my thighs lifting me then dropping me, gravity impaling my holes onto a pair of cocks, my nails dragging across their skin as I came. I remember begging them to cum inside me. I remember straddling one of them, another using my hair as reins while he rode my ass. I remember the slamming impacts as I bounced back and forth like a tennis ball, cocks buried in my cunt and mouth.
I remember one of the men fucking my tits while another spanked my pussy, my head bent backwards over the concrete edge as I lay on my back. I remember diving onto cocks, one after another, barely pulling free from one before eagerly lunging onto the next.
I remember the insatiable need for more, even as I screamed in orgasm, my overflowing pussy dripping white liquid, pearly fluid rolling down my legs.
When Master woke me, I was aching and sore everywhere. My ass was covered in their drying seed. My legs were caked with thick layers. My face and hair were stiff, painted with so much of their cum, my face was hidden by it. My tits were red and bruised, my chest and throat caked with the evidence of their pleasure.
My entire body was marked with multicolored lines, a humiliating tally that gave proof to my existence and purpose as a piece of fuckmeat.
Ten men. Seventy seven tally marks. Four hours.
Master spoke to one of the men, and both were smiling. I smiled too, knowing Master was happy. I had pleased him. Master wrote something down and handed it to him, then turned towards me, a hose in his hand. The spray was cold, and I shivered violently, my teeth chattering.
Master dragged me to his van and I barely managed to climb inside. He told me to lay me down in the back, my wet hair plastering itself to my skin and Mistresses leg. I didn't even know she'd been there, watching me the entire time. She stroked my hair, and told fuckmeat It had done well. Master and Mistress were pleased at how well fuckmeat had behaved, how obedient It had become.
I fell asleep there, content and happy as Master drove me back towards his home and fuckmeat's cage.
(Part three for @leolover721. Maledom, overstimulation, forced orgasms, impact play, submission.)
I was losing my mind. Mistress had me bound and helpless, teasing me for hours and hours. There were times when I felt like a single touch would send me careening into orgasm, and times when it felt like I would never be able to cum again.
I was numb, but so sensitive. I was so needy, but couldn't take anymore. I wanted more, more pain, more pleasure, more touch, more domination, more humiliation, anything, as long as I could cum, but I was so desperate to get it to stop.
It was absolute heaven in a realm of boiling hell.
Then I looked up, my eyes dazed and glassy as I struggled to think through the thick blanket of lust smothering my mind. I could feel my hips twitching, my ass burning, my lips numb, jaw aching. I could see Master standing over me, Mistress resting her chin on the hand she had propped on his shoulder.
"She...ready.... long... keep...?" Mistress asked him. My oversexed and undersatisfied mind could barely understand speech, and I missed most of what she was saying.
"Heard... begging... get.... bargained for... Say... hours... so..." Master's response was just as hard for me to understand. I felt like my entire world had shrunk, every little worry, fear, concern and hope irrelevant. If it didn't involve fuckmeat getting to cum, or bringing pleasure, it simply didn't matter.
Fuckmeat needed to cum.
Fuckmeat was there for pleasure.
Fuckmeat needed to cum.
Fuckmeat was there for pleasure.
Master and Mistress untied fuckmeat from the bodysuit, making me drink water. I felt my tongue sliding around the bottle, sucking hard as I swallowed. Mistress praised fuckmeat and I shivered. Her praise felt so good.
Master carried fuckmeat to the table. I tried to grab for his cock, show him I could be a good cockpleaser, but he spanked fuckmeat and I stopped. Master dumped me on the table, and my hands slid between my legs. I was so desperate to cum, I almost missed his command.
"Arms behind It's back. Now."
My fingertips were inches from my aching, needy clit, but I obeyed. I heard an almost animalistic whine, and realized the sound was coming from me. He took the rope and tied my hands back. Immediately, I felt the arousal burn even hotter. My hips rolled and flexed, seeking any kind of stimulation they could find. The soft pad went under my hips, too high to rub my clit against. He bound my shaking legs, spreading me.
When Master slid a finger between my legs I shuddered, my back arching as I lifted my head to look back, but I instantly realized that was exactly what he wanted. The gag slid into my open mouth, and the straps snapped into place in seconds. The ropes tugged, lifting my head.
I had to arch my back to relieve the ache, thrusting my ass even higher. The first sting of the paddle made me shriek, but the second one made my legs jerk as I moaned.
"Fuckmeat has been begging to be allowed to cum. It will learn that It's release is a gift from me. It will thank me for every orgasm, or the pleasure will stop and the pain will continue."
I felt something hard press against my clit, and Master used more ropes to tie a long thick rod to my leg. I felt an explosive vibration slam into my body, the hard head of the wand pressed mercilessly against my needy, swollen clit. I screamed into the gag, the heavy, relentless buzzing throwing my pleasure into overdrive.
The first orgasm slammed into me, a detonation of pleasure that I had never felt before. I screamed, I wailed, I shook and squirmed, but the orgasm didn't stop, wave after wave of unimaginable bliss slamming against me.
"Ffffnkkk oooo Mfffttrrr!!!"
The paddle cracked and I jumped, shrieking into the gag. The wand didn't weaken it's pleasure inducing buzz, if anything, it seemed to grow more intense against my oversensitive sex. The paddle cracked again and I bit down hard, squeezing the rubber gag between my teeth.
The third crack weakened my resistance, and I was thrown headlong into another body shaking orgasm. The ropes creaked as I spasmed and shook, gasping for breath between my shrieks of ecstasy. Yet, I knew what Master expected of his fuckmeat.
"Ffffnkkk oooo Mfffttrrr!!!"
On and on it went, the paddle cracking across my upraised ass, the buzzing wand, the relentless, merciless waves of pleasure that threatened to wash away my sanity.
"Ffffnkkk oooo Mfffttrrr!!!"
"Ffffnkkk oooo Mfffttrrr!!!"
"Ffffnkkk oooo Mfffttrrr!!!"
"Ffffnkkk oooo Mfffttrrr!!!"
"Ffffnkkk oooo Mfffttrrr!!!"
It was heaven and hell rolled into one. My ass burned, my stomach ached, my mind was lost in a thick fog as I was forced to endure orgasm after orgasm.
"Ffffnkkk oooo Mfffttrrr!!!"
"Ffffnkkk oooo Mfffttrrr!!!"
"Ffffnkkk oooo Mfffttrrr!!!"
Finally, Master turned off the toy, and unbound my arms and legs. He lifted my limp, quivering body and carried me to a soft sheet, rolling me onto the thin mattress beneath it. My arms and legs were tied once more, and I whined when I heard him move away.
I wanted more.
I needed more.
Fuckmeat was still horny.
Fuckmeat still wanted to cum.
I shook my head, hair damp with sweat clinging to my face. I wanted those traitorous thoughts gone, but I knew my own body would betray me again, sending me to even higher plateaus of pure pleasure.
I whimpered in fear and need when I felt the rubber toys slip between my legs, the tips sliding easily into both of my lower entrances. I was terrified of the thick rubbery toy nestled against my ass, but I had to fight to keep from thrusting my body back onto the one buried in my pussy.
I heard a click and a mechanical whirring. The lower dildo lunged, spearing it's way inside me, roughly plunging deep into my aching pussy. The moment it began it's swift retreat, the other rubber cock pushed forward, driving itself into my ass. My back arched and I squealed, but the ropes kept me pinned in place. I was dimly aware of another click, and the thrusting, pumping rubber cocks sped up, jackhammering into me over and over, stroking, stretching and rubbing against me inside. The pleasure built once more, and after a few seconds, my oversensitive body creaked as I threw back my head and screamed into the gag.
"Ffffnkkk oooo Mfffttrrr!!!"
Master walked around in front of me and pulled the gag from between my teeth, grabbing my hair. My eyes rolled as I felt another wave of orgasm cresting, but just as I opened my mouth to scream, Master plunged deep.
My well trained throat was still sore, but Mistress had made sure my lessons were well learned. My tongue swirled and I sucked hard, my body quivering with pleasure as the taste and smell of his skin battered my already weakened control.
"Ffggglllkkk! Hhuuggkkk Mfffttuuulllk!!!"
I'd never been fucked like that in my life. Triple penetrated, airtight, cumming on a near constant basis. I hated it. I loved it. I couldn't tell which was stronger. He was using me to get off, fucking my mouth and throat like I was just a convenient set of holes.
To him, that's all I was. A stupid, braindead cockpleaser. Fuckmeat. I had no control. No hope. No way out. It would only end when he decided it would end.
The thought made me cum again, my words garbled and unintelligible over the wet gurgling and choking sounds escaping my well used mouth. I drifted back down, falling into the familiar, comforting haze of sex, abuse, submission and more sex.
Time was meaningless, and counting my orgasms lost it's importance. Only thanking Master for abusing his fuckmeat mattered. Only cumming as I was told mattered.
I felt... at peace.
I was almost... happy.
I understood my place.
Master groaned above me, and I smiled around his cock, as much as my stretched lips allowed, redoubling my frantic efforts to please him. His cum blasted down my throat before he pulled back, painting my tongue white.
I gurgled out a wet, dripping cry of gratitude as the taste sent me over the edge again, cum and spit rolling down my chin. I swallowed everything I could, but before I could pull him back into my mouth, the toys burst onto a new level, shaking my aching, overused body with every pounding thrust. My eyes rolled back as he shoved the gag back into my mouth, forcing me to choke out another thank you around the red rubber stuffed between my teeth.
"Ffffnkkk oooo Mfffttrrr!!!"
I don't know how long he left me there, squirming and cumming, pleading and begging. I begged for it to stop, I begged for more. I pled and whined, needing his cock inside me again.
He ignored me completely.
When he finally untied me, turning the machines off and lifting me up, I had virtually no strength left. I was so exhausted, even opening my eyes seemed an impossible task. He carried me to a new machine, strapping me in as he bent me forward, folding me in half.
I felt another rubber cock nuzzling my sore, abused pussy, and he slid a large plug into my ass. In mere minutes, I was once again completely immobile. My arms outstretched, legs strapped in place, ass lifted and exposed. Another wand was pressed to my clit. My nipples were adorned with clamps and weights, the slightest twitch sending them swinging.
Master spoke.
"Fuckmeat will sleep here tonight. This machine has a timer. Every hour, on the hour, it will start. The plug will expand. The wand will vibrate. The dildo will fuck. The toys are perforated and pumps will release lube every time the machine begins. The timer will run between fifteen and twenty five minutes. Get some sleep, if fuckmeat can."
I watched, terrified and aroused, as he strode away, clicking the lights off and plunging me into darkness. The only light came from the pumps and electronics arrayed on the floor around me. Mere minutes after Master left the room, my exhausted fluttered closed, only to snap open a second later as warm lube gushed into me, filling me inside and dripping down over my clit. The plug expanded, and I felt a low, soft buzz against my clit as the rubber cock pushed its way deeper inside me.
I groaned as the toys inside my pussy and against my clit picked up speed, battering me with unforgiving pleasure. It built and built, growing stronger and stronger, forcing me to feel every delicious, wonderful sensation. The first orgasm hit me, and I could only endure it as I screamed out my bliss to the empty room.
"FFFFNKKK OOOO MFFFTTRRR!!!"
(Part two of @leolover721 and her descent into slavery. Includes femdom, girl-on-girl, bondage, mindbreak and impact play.)
I woke sore and aching, my battered and exhausted body barely able to move. Memory poured back, and I was torn between wanting to cry and begging for more.
Never in my life had I cum so often and so hard, and even reliving the memory of his tender brutality made the arousal surge back to life. He hadn't even fucked me yet, and I was almost hoping for more. I remembered his mercilessness, yet at the same time, I could still feel the looseness in my body, the floating sensation he had left behind to linger after countless soul shattering orgasms.
Conflicted didn't come close to describing how I felt. I wasn't sure if I wanted to run screaming, or kneel with my arms back, tits out and mouth open.
The choice was stolen from me as I heard the door lock click open. To my shocked surprise, I heard not one set of footsteps, but two. The first I recognized as Mas... his footsteps. The second set had the distinctive two-toned clicking of high heeled shoes. They stopped outside my little circle of light, keeping me from being able to see either of them.
Instinctively, my muscles tensed as I realized they had left the door open and unlocked. Fear made me try to jump and run, but a wave of aching soreness radiated through my body, and all I was able to accomplish was a slow unfolding of my limbs. The collar shifted around my neck and I froze, afraid that the machine had somehow recognized my thoughts of escape.
A few moments passed, and I realized it had merely been turning around my neck, the weight of the metal and padlock shifting as gravity did it's work. Then, I heard their voices.
"This is the new fuckmeat." I recognized Mas... his voice as it echoed around the small stone room.
"Mmm. It looks delicious." A distinctly feminine voice purred, sending shivers down my spine. "Rules? It is your plaything, after all."
I heard Mas... him chuckle darkly.
"No permanent marks. Otherwise? Have fun."
The woman's giggle was a happy, carefree laugh. I was shocked, I had expected a dark, cruel sound that promised I was about to endure an entirely new level of pain and humiliation.
He spoke to me next.
"Fuckmeat, this is Mistress. She will teach. Fuckmeat will learn, and learn well. That is not a request, it is fact. If fuckmeat learns quickly, It may be able to avoid consequences. If not..." He left his statement unfinished, the blatant threat made me shiver more than the pervasive cold that filled the room.
His footsteps receded, and she strode into the light, towering over me.
My jaw dropped as I looked up at her, my eyes growing wide. She had on a blood red skintight bodysuit, shining leather high heeled boots that came to just below her knees, a matching corset that thrust her impressive chest up and out and a thick neckpiece that ran from her collar to her chin.
The collar lifted her chin, but instead of being a tool that implied submission, like my own col... the collar that Mas... He put around my neck, it gave her an air of condescension. She stared down her nose at me as she slowly spun a glass of wine, a soft smirk decorating her lovely visage.
"I was told It is fuckmeat. Has fuckmeat learned obedience?" She squatted down, lifting my chin with a manicured fingernail. "Well?"
Before I could answer, her hand flashed and I heard the crack of her palm across my cheek just as the stinging pain crackled across my face. My eyes snapped open, and tears filled them, threatening to fall. Her fingers dove through the hoops on my collar, yanking me towards her.
Her full, soft lips crashed into mine and I could taste her wine. It felt like she was trying to slip her tongue down my throat. I couldn't fight her if I had wanted to, and the conflicted feelings didn't help.
I heard the soft chime of glass, and her kiss gentled, feeling one soft, manicured hand slip over my breast, her nails gently scraping the sensitive skin. She filled her hand and softly squeezed me, drawing me into her kiss. I felt myself respond, and I began to kiss her back.
After a few moments, she pulled back, the hand on my collar keeping me from following her soft, wine flavored lips. She gently squeezed my breast again and smiled, almost caringly.
"Mmm. Delicious." She picked up her wine glass and took a sip, before pulling me up to my knees so I could kiss her again. The cool wine dripped from her tongue, sweet but acidic, as she claimed my mouth. She pulled back with a gentle smile, setting the glass down again to stroke my hair as she pulled back, her perfect teeth gently nipping my kiss swollen lower lip.
"Now, fuckmeat. It needs more training. I'm sure that Master taught It what happens when It disobeys. I'm here to shed the light on how beautiful obedience can be." She stood, pulling a leash from somewhere on her outfit. She clipped it to my collar, gently pulling the slack. "Hand me my wine."
I looked down, seeing the nearly empty glass on the floor. My aching arms shook as I grabbed at the long stemmed glass, lifting it up to her with both hands. The red liquid inside rippled as my trembling arms held it out. She took the glass and smiled, sliding her booted foot between my legs. I felt the leather gently stroke my pussy, the cool, rigid black leather gently rubbing me for a few seconds before she pulled away. The pleasure tingled, and I knew this was my reward for my obedience.
"Tsk." She shook her head. "It made a mess on my boot. Be a dear and clean that up for me?"
My eyes flicked down, and I saw evidence of my arousal glistening on the leather. I looked around for a cloth, but a gentle tug and a giggle made me look up at her.
"No, no, no." She winked at me knowingly. "Come, dear. You know what I mean."
The heat blossomed in my cheeks, humiliation warring with a sudden surge of lust, and I leaned forward, pressing my lips to her boot before my tongue slid out, licking up my own arousal. Her breath caught and she gave a soft moan as I cleaned her boot, and I felt her body shiver.
"See? Wasn't that nice?"
I leaned back and looked down. Somehow I knew not to look her in the eyes. Instead my vision locked onto the slowly evaporating saliva decorating her boot as I responded.
"Yes, Mistress."
Her hand stroked my hair again, gently giving me wordless praise. I shivered with pleasure and smiled despite myself. The leash tugged and she spoke a single word.
"Follow."
The leash pulled, and she kept her arm low, the short leash keeping me from standing. Instead, I began to crawl, following behind her, staring up as her ass swayed in front of me.
She didn't take me far, just to the next room. As soon as I entered, I could smell food, and my mouth began to water. She led me around the small island in the room, taking several small laps before stopping me in front of a pair of dog bowls set on the floor.
"It must be hungry and thirsty. It has ten minutes to eat and drink, then we resume. Ah! No hands, fuckmeat."
Her fingers snapped and I dove facefirst into the bowls, drinking half the water in seconds. The food was a cold mash of beef, potatoes gravy and carrots, but it was heaven. I was done in minutes. Mistress squatted down next to me, and wiped my messy face with a warm, wet cloth.
"Good. Well done, fuckmeat!" Her warm, glowing praise jarred discordantly with the crude name I had been given, yet instead of frightening me, it gave me comfort. Mistress could be cruel, the slap had proved that, but she was choosing to be kind, whereas Master had not. I knew that her kindness was fully dependent on my own good behavior, and the reminder of what I could be enduring only strengthened my desire to please her.
She reached down and lifted me up until I was standing. She towered over me, her own impressive height enhanced by her high heels. I had never felt so small, yet never felt more cared for. I knew it was a psychological tactic, designed to make me eager to obey, but that knowledge didn't blunt the deepening gratitude.
"Now, fuckmeat. I want it to turn and lay on the counter, facedown."
I obeyed immediately, and I gasped as the cool marble made contact with my skin.
"Oh, no. That won't do." She moved behind me, and I felt the leather straps settle as she wrapped something around my head. "Open."
My lips parted and the rubber ball slid between my teeth. A few tugs later and the ballgag was buckled into place. Soft silk wrapped my wrists and ankles, keeping me spread and bent over the countertop as she tied me to the kitchen island.
"This will teach fuckmeat to understand the erotic connection between pain and pleasure. If It behaves, I may allow It to cum at some point today."
I heard the swish and crack before a bolt of pain sizzled across my raised ass, the jolt making me squeal and jump as the edge of the counter dug into my bare thighs. My ass cheek burned, but in moments the stinging heat faded, leaving a warm tingle that spread outwards. I moaned, which turned into a choked gasp as I felt her warm lips caress the fading pink welt on my ass.
"See?"
I gurgled helplessly, and the riding crop swished again, snapping across my bare ass, leaving another welt behind. Her lips soothed the burn, and I moaned, muscles twitching as my mind struggled to make sense of what was happening.
Again and again the crop sang, snapping and swishing. Again and again, her warm lips soothed the burn as I lay there, unable to end the brutally erotic torment. I lost count of the strokes after thirty-one, but she continued long past that point.
I was shivering and moaning, my hips twitching as I felt my arousal rolling down my legs. Then the crop sizzled again, snapping hard across my sex. I bucked and screamed, the flash of pain blindingly hot. Before it could begin to fade, her warm tongue stroked upwards, licking at my pussy. My eyes rolled back and I grunted with need, my hips thrusting back, needing more than just that singular touch.
The crop sang again, and I shrieked as the leather crop snapped across my clit. Just as every time before, she soothed the sting, softly suckling at my clit, her tongue teasing with tiny, fluttering licks. My stomach clenched and my head snapped back and forth, my lips spilling out garbled pleas for more.
Over and over the crop sent agonizing bolts of pain burning through my swollen, dripping pussy. Over and over her lips and tongue teased and played, soothing yet tormenting, albeit in a completely different manner.
I had no idea how long I endured it, but by the time she was done, my entire body was trembling with need, shaking with pain and glistening with sweat. She walked around in front of me, cupping her chin in her palm with her elbow resting on the countertop.
She stroked the matted, damp hair from my face and took a sip of wine.
"Does it understand what I'm teaching It now?"
I nodded shakily, my breath still coming in hard, heavy panting gulps of air.
"Good. Then on to lesson two." She unbuckled the gag and pulled some straps away, taking most of the leather webbing away, but leaving the gag hanging around my neck. She reached down and I heard a zipper move before she sat on the counter and spun, placing a pillow under both her ass and my chin, leaving me face to face with her dripping slit.
"Now, fuckmeat. It's only calling is to be obedient. It may be called upon to service one man or many, depending on Master. It may be called upon to serve women as well. Bearing that in mind, fuckmeat, I want It to lick. Hearing and tasting pain has left me distracted, and we can't have that, can we?"
I shook my head no.
"Good! I knew It could be good. That's just what I wanted to hear." Her praise brought a flush to my cheeks.
"But..." she continued. "There will be times when It will need to show how eager It is to give pleasure. So, I want It to beg. Beg to lick my pussy. Beg to give me pleasure, fuckmeat."
I never had a chance.
The burning, unsatisfied arousal still surged through me, and her casual, gentle domination made my head spin. The scent and sight of her arousal made my mouth water in anticipation, and my own growing need to ensure Mistress remained pleased betrayed me.
"Please please please Mistress let fuckmeat show Mistress It can be good please Mistress fuckmeat wants to pleasure you let It lick and show It can be good It wants to show It can be good."
Her fingers threaded into my hair and pulled me in as she dribbled wine between her legs. The scent of her made my already woozy head spin, and l gave in. My tongue flicked out and I began to stroke and lick, collecting her arousal. The sweet wine danced on my tongue, and I bathed her pussy, my teeth gently scraping, lips kissing and sucking, tongue stroking and flicking. I dove deep, drinking in both her and the wine.
Despite my own needy craving for more pleasure, I paid attention, noting what made her shiver and moan, what she liked and didn't. I used every trick I could think of to bring her the pleasure I so desperately craved myself. My tongue and jaw ached, but I didn't stop, and soon her breath was coming in short gasps, her hand in my hair pushing me hard against her as she rode my face. With a soft shudder and quiet moan, her legs snapped closed around my head and her hips bucked. A flood of her juices coated my chin as she came. I couldn't breathe, but I refused to disappoint her, and even as my lungs screamed for breath, my tongue slithered and swirled, my lips sucking and stroking her clit.
Finally, she pushed me away, letting deep gasping breaths of air back into my lungs. She shivered and shook as she recovered, and after a few moments, she slid off the countertop and to her feet. Her hand, still in my hair, gently tugged me up and she leaned in, kissing me hard and deep. The kiss went on and on, the taste of her arousal, the wine and her soft lips made me dizzy. All too soon, she leaned back with a smile.
"That was very good, fuckmeat. Very good. I must admit, I'm surprised. But..." she sighed. "Master has one more lesson he wants me to teach it today, and if I get carried away, he won't allow me to play with fuckmeat again. Still, that doesn't mean we can't circle back to this. Would It enjoy that, fuckmeat? Bringing me more pleasure?"
My sex-drunk mind could only form one answer, and my smiling response brought a look of surprised delight to her face.
"Yes, Mistress. Fuckmeat would beg to be allowed to bring her more pleasure."
She stroked my hair again and kissed me, just an affectionate peck, but it brought back the blush to my cheeks.
"Now, we must move this to the floor, fuckmeat. I will untie It, and It will kneel and stay there. Does It understand?"
"Yes, Mistress."
In moments, I was untied, and I felt her hands gently lift me off the countertop, my sweat covered skin sticking slightly. My legs nearly collapsed, but she proved how deceptively strong she was, holding me up until I was able to sink down to a stable kneeling position.
Mistress reached down and lifted up a leather suit, complete with buckles and straps, and I could clearly see the open gap between the legs.
"This will be worn by fuckmeat." At my look of panic, she squatted down, shushing and soothing me as her nails gently stroked my cheek, lifting away sweaty strands of hair that clung to my face. "Remember, obedience at all times. Trust me, fuckmeat. It will learn to love this. Give me the chance to prove it?"
She pulled me closer, wrapping one arm around me as her other hand pressed my face to her breast. It took a few moments, but I knew it was obey, or be punished. More than that, I could sense my own need to please her growing. I couldn't fight it, or her, so what was the point? I wouldn't win, no matter how hard I struggled.
I nodded into her chest, and I heard the smile in her voice as she praised my obedience yet again. It took some time, but by the time Mistress had me buckled into the outfit, I found myself completely immobile and helpless. My elbows touched behind my back, my wrists and arms trapped in an armbinder. My knees pressed into my chest, and my heels touched my ass. Heavy leather straps crisscrossed my body, folding me into a tiny ball. Even my hair was bound back into a severe ponytail.
Mistress lifted me, gently placing me onto a metal tray just wide enough to accommodate me. As she lowered me down, I felt the tip of a rubber dildo touch my pussy. As I descended, I groaned, feeling the toy stretching me, filling me. Hard beads beneath a layer of soft silicone gave the toy a bumpy, ridged texture, stimulating me inside as I dropped. By the time my ass hit the metal tray beneath the toy, I could feel the soft silicone tip kissing the entrance to my womb.
"A few things for It to know. The beads are copper. It can make you clench, stimulating with gentle electrical pulses. It can spin, stroking fuckmeat from inside. Or... if fuckmeat fails to give everything It has, the toy can blast fuckmeat, making It regret being alive. So, I want to see fuckmeat give one hundred percent. Does it understand?"
My response burst forth before I could even think, lust and my short but intense training making my answer immediate and instinctive.
"Yes, Mistress."
She smiled down at me and pushed the edge of the tray with her foot, turning me. My lips brushed against the tip of a dangling rubber phallus that was attached to the wall by a heavy suction cup. I jerked back, but a sharp stiletto heel dug between my shoulder blades, pushing me forward. Bound as I was, I couldn't resist, and the collar still in place around my neck kept me from turning my head.
"Fuckmeat must be well trained in giving pleasure." I heard the creak of a chair as Mistress settled behind me. "It will not always be able to use hands to bring that pleasure. So, fuckmeat will learn. This will be a part of the daily training fuckmeat will have, whether on toys or the real thing. It will spend at least one hour a day servicing cock. Don't disappoint me, fuckmeat."
With that final warning, I felt Mistresses heel dig harder into my back, and I leaned forward, my aching jaw protesting as I opened my mouth again. The rubber tip slid between my lips, and I relaxed as best I could.
Her foot on my back dictated the pace and depth of my blowjob, and I soon settled into a rhythm, taking it to the back of my mouth, sucking and licking. Saliva dripped from my chin as I sought to please her, and I groaned as I heard the click of a button.
The toy inside me began to move, the hard beads rotating in full circles. I gurgled around the toy filling my mouth, and I heard Mistress giggle. My burning arousal slammed back into me with full force, making me pant for breath. But... it wasn't enough. The slow rotations only served to drive me into a haze of need. It wasn't fast enough to drive me over the edge. I whimpered and whined, but Mistress kept up her slow, gentle pushing.
After a few more minutes, my technique becoming messier and messier, she sighed.
"I was hoping for more, fuckpuppet. It has only gotten the cock halfway in." My eyes snapped open and I realized she was right. "Master demands more. So... he'll get... MORE!"
Her spiked heel drove into my back hard, shoving me forward. My forehead thudded into the wall, dazing me slightly as I choked. The thick rubber toy was buried halfway down my neck, nearly touching the collar. I could feel the silicone cock distending my throat, making it bulge obscenely.
The pressure behind me eased, and I pulled free, pulling in desperate gasps of air. I managed a mere three breaths before her heel drove me down again. I knew what was coming this time, and managed to avoid hitting my head on the wall, but the tip of my nose did touch it. She held me there as I squirmed helplessly, choking and gagging on the thick rubber toy.
When I was allowed to pull free, I gasped for air, thick strands of saliva connecting my lips to the dangling cock. I took three quick breaths and dove again, not waiting for her to push me down. I did not want to test her patience, and I definitely didn't want to feel any punishment from the beaded toy buried in my pussy.
Mistress gave a delighted giggle.
"Good!! Very good! It learns quickly. Perhaps I should give It a little reward."
I heard another click, and the rotating beads began to tingle, the soft tickle soon growing to a gentle burn. Then, as if it had crossed some unknown threshold, the tingles spread, and muscles I didn't even know I had clenched down hard, squeezing the toy inside me.
It felt like the toy inside me had instantly expanded, growing half again as large as it had been. I coughed and gurgled, saliva dripping down my chin. Mistress let me pull back and I gasped for air, a thin whine escaping me as the beads stroked and rolled inside my dripping pussy.
Her heel gave me no rest, and forced me down again.
My mind fogged and I lost myself to the burning lust and submission. Discomfort bagan to fade, and I rode an unbelievable high. The lack of oxygen mixed with surges of air as she let me breathe. The constant contrast swung me like a pendulum, making me feel like I was floating, lost and aroused in a mind numbing fog. The toy spun and tingled, stroking and teasing me, the electical tingles both pleasuring me and tormenting me, keeping me riding the edge of orgasm for longer than I'd ever believed possible.
Time lost all meaning, and all that mattered was the thick cock stroking easily into my bulging throat, the wondrous toy buried inside me and the soft, warm praise that Mistress seemed intent on blanketing my mind in.
It lasted years. It was over in moments.
I felt gentle fingers on my shoulders, pulling me back. I blinked, still lost in a lusty, unfulfilled fog as she leaned over my shoulder to kiss my neck.
"That's ninety minutes, fuckmeat."
My aching throat prevented me from responding, but I turned, my lips seeking hers. I needed to cum. I needed to cum.
I needed to cum.
I NEEDED TO CUM!
She pulled back, and I broke, letting my desperation show on my face. Ignoring the thick coat of spit dripping off my lips and chin, my lips formed the words my voice couldn't speak. I silently begged Mistress, pleading with her to let fuckmeat cum. Over and over I begged, desperate for just one last push that would send me over the edge.
She simply smiled and spun me around. My eyes came to rest on the strange chair she was sitting in. A hinged wooden bar could be separated, and a large hole was cut out of the seat. I could see Mistress had kept herself unzipped, and her fingertips were wet with her own arousal. Her other hand held the ever-present glass of wine, and Mistress smiled down at me.
"Does fuckmeat wish for a reward? Does it want to obey?"
All shame abandoned me, and I nodded frantically. Mistress cooed and stroked my cheek before she lifted me up, sliding me under the chair. The wooden bar latched closed around my neck, trapping my face mere inches from her dripping pussy.
She reached over and refilled her wine glass from a bottle on the table before tipping more out, drizzling it over her flushed lower lips.
"Lick, fuckmeat. Lick me. Earn a reward for me."
Despite the ache in my jaw, my lust took control and I leaned forward.
Mistress smiled down at me, stroking my hair as the first quiet gasps escaped her when I obeyed.
I obeyed.
(Author's Note. Part one of a multi part series by request of @leolover721. Check out her page and her Onlyfans. She is absolutely gorgeous, and deserves your support. Series includes CNC, bondage, sadism, and brainwashing. If that isn't your cup of tea, do not read further.)
I couldn't believe I was about to do this. Going out on a 'date' with a guy that just started messaging me that month. My social media stalking didn't throw up any red flags, and we talked for hours and hours about my fantasies. He had described all the things he would to to me, and every last one of them made me squirm. I decided to give him the opportunity to claim and control me, and agreed to meet up with him.
I felt pretty safe, so I greeted him with a grin and slid into the passenger seat. I had time to brush my hair back from my ear as we pulled away from the curb, and I turned to ask where we're headed when I heard a pneumatic puff, and a dart slammed hard into my thigh, pumping drugs straight into my body.
I didn't even have time to scream before the heat surged through me, stealing my strength as it flowed through my blood. I could only moan weakly and slump against the door. My body betrayed me, as the fear coursed through me, sped by adrenaline, spiking my heart rate and spreading the paralyzing toxin even faster. His voice filled the car as I slid down, my skin tingling as it made contact with soft, supple leather.
"Low dose of a moderate paralytic, it merely stops voluntary movement." He explained. "It leaves you fully awake and aware, able to feel everything. Fortunately for you, I have plans. Unfortunately, you won't know where we'll be. See, I like my slaves completely helpless and lost."
A finger gently lifted my chin, and my terrified eyes met his.
"Don't hope you can convince me to change my mind, fuckmeat. I've chosen you for my newest toy. You'll soon learn to play by my rules."
With that chilling statement, he released my chin, and my body let out a breathy grunt as I collapsed back into my seat. I couldn't see him, but a moment later, a wet cloth was pressed to my mouth, and I could smell the chemicals. I begged and pleaded with my eyes, but he didn't even deign to look at me.
Lax muscles barely trembled as I struggled, fighting to pull in a clean breath, but the paralyzing drugs were too powerful, and soon darkness pulled me under. Consciousness escaped me and all I could do was whimper in helpless terror.
I woke slowly, the drugs still running rampant through my body. The cold stone floor dug into my soft skin. I remembered him claiming me as a slave. My nakedness was anticipated, but it still came as a little bit of a shock. A tiny circle of illumination came from a naked bulb suspended above me. I tried to rub my face, but the feel of cool leather touched my cheek. I looked down, and in a moment of horror I realized that tight leather cuffs encircled my wrists and attached gloves covered my hands, forcing my fingers into tight fists. Denied the use of my fingers, I shot bolt upright in horror, but a heavy weight around my neck yanked my back, nearly sending me to the floor.
Fumbling with the gloves, I couldn't hold in the sob in terror as I slowly felt the thick metal collar, heavy with thick leash rings and a padlock that encircled my neck. As I shifted I could feel a soreness radiating from my ass, a sensation that until then, the drugs had muted.
Anticipating the worst, I wasn't disappointed when I twisted and saw the shining steel plug buried deep in my ass. I tried to pull it free, but the gloves and thick bulb made the task impossible. A faint red glow from the plug revealed something that made me tremble. The pulsing red light on the plug meant it had a power source. Its purpose was something I didn't want to even contemplate.
The creak of a door pulled my attention, and a long, measured tread echoed softly, coming closer like the hoofbeats of the grim reaper's skeletal steed.
The footsteps stopped just outside the circle of light, and I couldn't help but shrink back. My body trembled and I stared at the floor, my arms crossed over my chest protectively, my legs tightly closed.
A hand holding a smartphone extended into the circle of light, and a finger tapped the glowing screen. Agony burned through my body, suffusing me with pain. I couldn't hold back the scream as a powerful electric pulse surged out of the plug buried inside me.
My legs spasmed and kicked, my lower body shaking uncontrollably as my breath locked in my lungs. Sweat began to glisten on my skin as the burning shock ravaged my nervous system. Finally, another soft tap on the screen ended the searing pain, and I collapsed, twitching and shuddering on the cold floor.
"That was to teach against disobedience."
Footsteps echoed around the tiny circle of light as my tears began to fall freely. I panted and gasped for breath, sobbing on the floor.
"This is to teach against escape."
The thumb tapped the screen again, and my ears caught a pneumatic hiss from the collar.
The formerly loose metal began to press against my neck, as machinery hidden in the collar expanded, pushing hard against my throat. Within seconds, my breathing became harder and harder, making it nearly impossible to draw a full breath.
The compression made my pulse thunder in my ears as the blood flow was restricted, making me swoon. Dizziness assaulted me, and my drug weakened lungs began to fail me, unable to force blood past the squeezing force of the collar.
My hands dragged weakly across the collar, but the gloves proved too sturdy. I couldn't even shift the collar an inch. The padlock jingled mockingly as my vision began to narrow and darken.
Movement caught my eye, and I saw a pair of leather cuffs, held over three feet apart by a black iron bar, slide to a stop in front of me.
"Kiss them, fuckmeat. Kiss the tools I'll use to break you."
Desperate, my vision fading fast as my heartbeat roared in my ears, I slumped forwards, pressing my lips to the cold black leather. Thoughts of defiance, resistance, even delay vanished the moment a faint hope of relief was dangled in front of me. The concept of disobedience didn't even occur to my oxygen starved mind.
My lips caressed the leather cuffs, leaving a faint pink film of my lip gloss behind. I left a desperate trail of kisses across the iron bar. Just as my muscles begin to fail, oxygen deprivation stealing what flagging strength the fading drugs had given back, I heard another hiss, and the pressure eased, allowing sweet, soft air back into my starving lungs. The rush of oxygen rich blood made my head swim, and I felt my limbs tremble anew, shaking spastically as my aching stomach pulled in gasping breath after breath.
"The collar is GPS locked. I can activate it anywhere. You run, it activates and you suffocate. You try to cut the padlock, it activates, and you suffocate. You damage the internal machinery, it activates and you suffocate. Don't test me on this, fuckmeat."
"I won't." I whispered, still shaking on the floor. I couldn't stop the tears from rolling down my face any more than I could help the tiny lick of arousal that was slowly building between my legs. This was one of the fantasies I had described to him, but so, so much more. Helpless, forced to obey, forced to submit, broken before I even had the chance to put up any real resistance. His voice shattered my thoughts, plunging me back into terrifyingly arousing reality.
"It. It won't. You're a person no longer, fuckmeat. And you will refer to me as Master. Not 'Sir', not 'my Master'. You are neither a person nor are you allowed to claim ownership of anything. You are a thing. Does the fuckmeat understand? Or, is it too dumb and cock hungry to comprehend? Does it need another lesson in obedience?"
Before I could stop it, a snarl crossed my lips.
Immediately, a surge of power blasted through me, and I screamed. The wailing howl of agony echoed through the room, and I flailed. My gloved hands swiped at the invader buried in my ass, desperately trying to slap the torturous invader free.
A lifetime of agony later, yet in reality was likely only a few seconds, the surging electricity shut off.
I sobbed wretchedly, helplessly unable to even put up a token resistance.
"Does. It. Understand?"
My treacherous mouth uttered the words before I could think to stop them.
"It understands, Master." I sobbed, sprawled out on the floor.
"Good." His voice echoed with finality. I could only groan, splayed out on the cold floor as his hand grabbed my ankle. Exhausted and weakened, I didn't resist as the cuff slipped around the soft, smooth skin of my leg. The second cuff slid on just as quickly, spreading my feet far apart as the bar clicked wider, locking my legs apart.
I whimpered as he took my wrists and bound the gloves together at the small of my back with the built in cuffs. A moment later, and my ankles lifted and my body scraped over the stone. The few short inches felt like miles of crushed glass to my oversensitized, battered body.
Fatigue like I have never felt battered me down. A jingle of metal vibrated through the spreader bar, and I instinctively knew he'd just clipped it to the floor. With my wrists bound and ankles trapped, I couldn't go anywhere unless he allowed it.
His footfalls echoed through the room, and I saw the edges of his shoes invaded my sight.
Before I could stop myself, I whimpered a soft, broken plea.
"...please let me go..."
A fist gripped my hair and jerked back my head. The collar dug into my skin as I cried out in pain. A heavy slap rocked my head as his open palm struck my cheek, nearly throwing me to the floor.
"It. It will not be released. It is where it belongs." The heavy footfalls echoed as he walked away, leaving me trussed and whimpering, naked, cold and alone. "I can see the first lesson wasn't learned. Let's see if this helps."
My eyes widened in horror as the glowing cell phone screen lit up the blackness.
"No! No, no, no, please, It will obey, please, no!" I screamed at him, begging, pleading, but I still felt the blazing surge anyway. I could tell the charge was far weaker than before, but it brought me no comfort as the sizzling agony tearing through my body pulsed and sizzled. I shuddered and spasmed, my nervous system aflame with liquid agony as my control was hijacked by the brutal tool buried in my body.
Minutes passed as I groaned in agony, and slowly, the realization dawned. He wasn't going to shut it off. He was not coming back. That's why the charge was weaker. This time... I wouldn't be lucky enough for this to end quickly...
The splash of ice cold water shocked me into wakefulness, and I groaned in agony as the lingering pain and stiff position began to make my aching body cramp and stiffen. A metallic click sounded behind my neck, and I gurgled in surprise as I was hauled unceremoniously to my knees by the collar.
My aching arms were unclipped, and though free, the aching, sore, unused muscles didn't respond to my frantic commands. I could only kneel as he lifted my arms up high, attaching the cuffs to a chain dangling from the darkness. My soft breasts, red and dirty from the floor, were pulled up, riding high as I groaned.
Once he had me chained, the footsteps moved away, and a rattling clinking sound echoed through the room. Slowly, I was raised higher and higher by the wrists, pulling me upward and off my knees. My feet swung beneath me, and then the chain lowered, not much, but enough that I could stand without straining.
I slumped weakly, still exhausted after the punishing toy in my body dashed away my consciousness. I felt as though I'd had almost no time to recover, and only a gnawing hunger and thirst betrayed the passage of time.
The sound of splashing water roused me, and a moment later a soft sponge stroked across my thigh. I couldn't hold in the moan of bliss, as the warm water chased away the aching chill of the cold stones.
"It is Fuckmeat." He said.
The sponge pulled away, and the warm water quickly cooled, leaving me shivering.
"Say it."
A single tear rolled down my face and I nodded.
"It.. It is... fuh... fuh.." I sobbed once, brokenly. "It is... fuckmeat."
The warm sponge returns, stroking along my back. My muscles slowly stopped shivering, and the blessed warmth seeped to the bone, leaving a gentle, soothing heat behind.
"I am Master." I heard the whisper in my ear, his breath moving my hair.
"Y... you are... Master."
The warm sponge washed way the stinging sweat and grime from my skin.
"Say it all."
"It is fuckmeat. You... are Master."
Soft strokes of the sponge are my reward, and I shuddered weakly, knowing that he's already broken a part of me. In my mind, it's no longer 'if' I will break completely, but simply 'when'.
"Again."
The words tumble from my lips like water from a broken dam.
"It is fuckmeat, you are Master. It is fuckmeat, you are Master. It is fuckmeat, you are Master."
Over and over, the words tumbled free, and the warmth of the sponge sank deep. Slowly, the warm strokes of the sponge tapered off, and I began to tremble anew, the moisture clinging to my skin chasing away the warmth.
A moment later, the warmth of a heated towel began to stroke my skin, but as I moaned with relief, it stopped abruptly. Instantly, I understood my infraction, and began chanting anew, desperate to keep him from finding another reason to punish me.
"It is fuckmeat, you are Master..."
The warm towel wicked away the cooling water, and I chanted, over and over. Somewhere deep in my mind, I felt my sense of self begin to fracture. Less like a person. More and more like a thing. A possession.
An It.
The towel finished all too soon, and I lifted my head, but the heavy collar prevented me from turning my head to see him as he stood behind me. The familiar sound of a pump bottle echoed through the room, and I gasped as cool oil was pressed to my skin.
I could feel the medical gloves on his hands preventing skin to skin contact, but his hands slowly begin to massage the oil in, warming it as he gently, almost tenderly stroked my body, coating me in glistening oils. His fingers gently dug into my body, relaxing sore muscles everywhere he touched. The words tumbled free, a desperate plea for him to continue.
"It is fuckmeat... you... ooooh... are Master..."
His hands massaged away the last of the pervasive ache, loosening muscles and revitalizing my body. Despite being far from full recovery, I couldn't help the instinctive rush of gratitude, despite its wrongness, as he loosened the knotted muscles. The tiny licks of arousal blossomed into fullness, and I felt the heat bloom, the scent of my need permeated the stone room.
"It is fuckmeat, yooooohhh oh, yesss are... are Master."
His hands massaged my calves, working slowly upwards and my head rolled back, held by the harsh metal collar. I felt the first drip of arousal roll down my thigh, and I blushed hard as humiliation burned through me when I realized I was so deeply aroused.
My words stuttered and his hands stopped. Desperate for any pleasure to be found in this confusing, arousing, painful, living hell, I nearly shouted the words in a frenzied plea.
"It is fuckmeat! You are Master!"
His oil soaked hands resumed their ministrations, just above the apex of my thighs, gently working in the oil.
"It is fuckmeat, you are Master."
His fingers traced the swollen edges of my breasts, but moved no closer to the aching peaks, and I groaned, but from relief or disappointment... even I wasn't sure.
Warmth radiated from my body, and I whispered the words, over and over, denying them in my head as I did, but my body responded to him, the coiling, burning arousal refusing to abate.
Then, slowly, the oil coated gloves slithered over my collarbones, dancing around the edges of my swollen breasts.
"Does it feel good, fuckmeat?"
I could only nod brokenly and respond with a needful, breathy whisper.
"Yes, Master. It feels good."
Oil slicked fingers stroked across the soft swells of my breasts, and danced in tiny circles around my stiffened nipples.
"Say what It wants."
My jaw clenched for only a moment before I broke, and I responded with a sob.
"Please, Master, play with your toy."
His fingers gently captured my nipples and softly tugged, rolling them in his slick grasp. My head rolled back, and I was surprised to feel myself press against warm skin. He was standing behind me and at the very least, without a shirt.
Liquid heat poured forth from within me at the thought of him possibly being naked as well, before I chastised myself. He was inches from fucking me, right after he kidnapped me, and I was aroused at the thought!
Shame slammed into me, but my body rebelled, pressing my breasts into his palms as he stroked the oil over my skin. Sweat began to glisten on my skin, as the heat in my belly burned hotter.
One hand pulled away, to slither over my oil soaked skin. It stopped, a hairsbreadth from the open folds of my bared sex. I could feel the arousal dripping from my body, I could smell my own scent in the air.
I was ashamed.
I was humiliated.
I was aroused.
I was dripping wet.
I was breaking.
His voice whispered in my ear.
"What are you?" His fingertips stroked the soft skin of my labia.
I bit my lip before responding with a breathy moan.
"Your fuckmeat."
"And what is my fuckmeat to me?"
I took a deep shuddering breath.
"A toy." I whispered.
"Can toys decide when they are to be played with?"
"....no..." My response was a quiet sob of broken surrender.
His fingers slid down, cupping me as he slid a fingertip into the soaked folds of my body. I groaned loudly, my hips pumping, moving outside conscious control. I felt like I was floating, lost, shattered and beaten.
His other hand squeezed my breast roughly, plucking my nipple, rolling and pinching as his palm ground into my clit, sending shivers of wondrous pleasure sizzling through me. Unwanted, yet deeply craved, the pleasure built and built, higher and higher. He added a second finger inside me, and curled them forwards, my helpless position serving to hold me in place, so I could only endure.
"Say it."
"It is fuh... fuh... fuckmeat..." I ground the words out through gritted teeth. "You...ooooh... are Maaahh oh ooh, Masterrr..."
Faster and faster he moved inside me, sending blissful surges of heat burning through my veins. Pleasurable tingles lit my skin aflame with rapture as he manipulated my helpless body, playing with me as if I were a toy.
No. Not as if I was a toy.
I was just a toy.
His toy.
With that traitorous thought, I screamed, bliss and ecstasy exploding through me as my body detonated in a brutally powerful surge of orgasmic betrayal. His hands did not relent, and forced me to crest over and over, cumming on his hands as I writhed and shook in pure relief and wondrous satisfaction. Again and again, he tore pleasure from my helpless body, sending me to heights of bliss I'd never achieved before.
Darkness nibbled at my vision as I screamed in pleasure over and over, babbling what seemed to be nonsense as he worked over my body.
Finally, his hands pulled free, and I slumped, bonelessly hanging from the chains as my stomach spasmed with the aftershocks. The cuffs fell away as I mumbled, and the chains loosened, letting me fall to hands and knees on the cold concrete. Faintly, I recognized the soft mumbles coming from my mouth.
"It is fuckmeat...."
(Author's note. Prequel request by @dumbrubberdolly. She's got a great page. Check out her blog, show her some love.)
I loved the feel of it. The supple smoothness. The tight constriction. It moved when I did, but the stiff rubber only had so much give to it. It was like I was being squeezed and caressed while also being bound. And the heat. Oh, the heat.
Rubber doesn't breathe, so I could feel the heat grow inside me every time the rubber snapped into place on my skin. It was delicious and sexy. I could feel it tightening and flexing as I moved and breathed. I felt sexy. I felt feminine.
Then I started going online and looking deeper. Oh, it was sooo dleicious. Picture after picture, video after video of women bound and gagged, corseted and hooded, forced to totter around in 7 inch ballet heels. Wrapped head to toe in rubber catsuits, with only their holes exposed.
Anonymous. Helpless. Bound, mummified, trapped. Reduced from a woman to a literal plaything. From a person to a pet, a toy. A set of warm, welcoming holes that was too tightly encased in rubber to resist. Too horny to try resisting...
Ffffff...
Then I met him. A hypnotist. We joked and teased. I laughed, squirming in lust as he talked about my rubber fetish. How he could make me feel the rubber even when it wasn't there. His voice was so soothing. Calming. He had remixed a metronome sound effect with the squeak of rubber. I could hear it in the background as his voice described the details of every piece of rubber. The hoods, the gags, the cuffs and sleeves.
My fantasy became an obsession. Every time I heard his voice, it was like I could feel the rubber snap into place, turning me into an anonymous cockwarmer. I spent months like that, listening to his voice over the phone, diving deep into the audio tracks he sent to my email. Part of me knew what he was doing. He was letting my growing obsession feed his own. He wanted a toy. A rubber wrapped plaything.
Then I lost my job. It was a huge wake up call. I had fallen way, way, way too deep. I was scheduled to work, but by the time my ringing phone broke through the lust filled haze, I was already four hours late. For the fifth time. They fired me over the phone.
With that one call, I knew how far I had fallen under his control. How deeply obedient I'd become. The feel of the rubber and the sound of his voice just washed everything away.
I looked back through our messages, and I saw pictures of myself, hooded and bound, encased in supple black rubber. I didn't remember taking a single one of those pictures. I started to jump around in the audio files, skipping past the short inductions that I realized he'd slipped into the files without me realizing it.
His voice was so powerful, I could only listen for a few seconds at a time, but I realized how deeply he controlled me. How easily the feel of rubber squeezing my skin washed my mind away.
I ran. I packed my stuff in less than a day and ran as far as I could. I found myself two weeks later at a convention in sin city. I had thought it was a job fair, but I'd misread the schedule and was early by a full week.
Beautiful women wandered around, some collared, some in catsuits. Some entirely naked, save for painted on liquid latex. I must have blanked out for a minute, because I found myself standing in front of a large booth. The table was covered in rubberized collars and cuffs, boots and corsets. My fingers absently stroked the smooth, clean balck rubber as the heat between my legs grew and grew.
I heard him laughing behind me, and I rolled my eyes as he started proclaiming himself The Rubber Doll Master. Before my slightly dazed mind could react, he grabbed a collar and snapped it on my neck.
"There." he joked "Now I own you."
Master's rubber collar goes on and enslaves his Dolly. Master's collar makes Dolly Dumb, Horny and Obedient. Dumb Rubber Dolly is Master's fucktoy.
His voice slammed into my mind with the force of a falling moon. The words swept my thoughts away, instantly evaporating my sense of self. My name was lost. My past irrelevant. My hopes and dreams disintegrated in a blink of an eye. i knew, deep in my soul that i was no longer a person. i was a doll. A toy. His toy.
My body jerked hard, pulling the collar out of his hands as it settled around my neck. My core, my life was overwritten in a heartbeat, as the very core of who... no... what i was shifted.
i am a dumb rubber dolly...
i am Master's toy.
i am a rubber slave.
New Master's dumb rubber dolly followed him obediently through the convention. Dumb rubber dolly knew she was there to serve her New Master. Dumbrubberdolly knee he would play with his toy whenever he pleased. It was up to Dumbrubberdolly to wait for his commands.
New Master asked Dumbrubberdolly why she followed him. i... she... Dumbrubberdolly replied in my voice. She told him she was waiting for her owner's commands. She told him the rubber washed away her mind. Dumbrubberdolly knew what was expected of her.
Dumb rubber dolly tells the truth.
Dumb rubber dolly always obeys.
Dumb rubber dolly needs to please.
Dumbrubberdolly followed as New Master went back to the booth with the rubber toys and clothes. Dumbrubberdolly grew more and more excited as New Master had her fitted for her new clothing.
New Master said Dumbrubberdolly would always wear rubber for him. She would suck and fuck on command, with anyone he told her to. Dumbrubberdolly was so happy she could be a good dolly for New Master and his friends. His happiness was all that mattered.
New Master took her home, and Dumbrubberdolly spent the entire drive with his cock in her mouth. Dumbrubberdolly spent the entire time floating in pleasure as she was used for her purpose. She was happy. No... she was euphoric.
New Master took Dumbrubberdolly inside his home and wrapped her up as she shivered in rubber coated bliss. New Master's toys drove home the lessons she had learned when listening to the Old Master's voice.
When New Master fucked her for the first time, Dumbrubberdolly knew.
She was home.
She was happy.
She was just his Dumbrubberdolly.
And that was all she ever wanted to be.