Ellen

Ellen by Laura Davis F/F Bnd, mild torture (mailto:ldavis4@hotmail.com) (Laura Davis) I was twenty-nine years old and two months pregnant with my first child when my husband walked out on me. If he'd had a good reason I might have understood. I would have been mad and hurt but I might have understood. But he didn't have a good reason. He just said, "I've decided that I don't want to be married anymore." And then he was gone. I had a good job with good benefits so I filed for divorce and went on with my life. Two weeks later, without any prior warning, the company I worked for closed. I showed up for work one Friday morning and the doors were locked. A company representative, protected by two armed guards, was there to pass out final paychecks and a small severance payment. I didn't know what to do. I had little money and suddenly I had no benefits. And I was almost three months pregnant. It was near the end of the month. Rent would be due in a few days. The doctor wanted money. There were groceries to buy, bills to pay, decisions to be made - keep the baby or put it up for adoption. Abortion was out of the question. The next morning I got up and went for a walk in the park after breakfast. I was wearing a cropped tank top, denim cutoffs, and sandals. My belly was still flat but my breasts had gone from a B-cup to a C-cup. I'm not beautiful, or even particularly pretty, but I am attractive and sexy. I have black hair, olive skin, a good figure, and pretty nice legs. I'd been in the park for about twenty minutes and was starting to feel the heat. It was late July and the weather was typically hot and humid. I saw a young woman taking pictures near the duck pond. She snapped a couple of shots and then turned and walked toward me. We smiled at each other, the way women do when there are no men around, and nodded. She continued on past but a moment later I heard a soft voice say, "Excuse me...." I turned and saw the photographer standing a few feet away. "I don't want to bother you but I was wondering if you'd pose for me." She was blonde and pretty in a tomboyish way and she had a nice smile. After a moment's hesitation I nodded and said, "Okay. But you'll have to tell me what to do. I've never modeled." She grinned. "No problem. Let's go over by the greenhouse." We walked across the park to the greenhouse, chatting companionably. Her name was Louise and she told me she was new to the area, just out of grad school, and working at a local TV station. When we reached the greenhouse I posed in the outside garden. Then we went inside for a few shots. It was extremely hot and I began perspiring heavily. She wouldn't let me wipe it away because she said my skin gleamed nicely when covered with sweat. She told me I was pretty and a natural model. She said I had beautiful legs and a nice figure. She flattered me shamelessly and I loved it! She posed me outside, under a tree, holding a tree limb a couple of feet over my head. My top rode up, exposing my bra. She frowned. She coaxed me into taking my bra off. She said I looked very sexy with the lower curves of my breasts visible. She told me to hold the pose and she came over and unbuttoned my shorts, undoing the zipper just a little, showing more of my lower belly. "Very sexy," she said. She had me hold the pose again, both hands firmly gripping the branch. She came over and eased the zipper down a little further. She told me I was beautiful, staring right into my eyes as she spoke. She put her hand on my belly for a moment. I told myself I wasn't getting aroused. I was lying. We were at the edge of small but very dense grove of trees that mark the western boundary of the park. We went a little deeper into the grove. There was nobody around. It was too early and too hot for most people to be out. I let her talk me into taking my top off. Within a couple of minutes I was posing nude. She shot another full roll of film, her last. When it was done she walked over and said, "You're a fantastic model. Will you come back and pose in my studio?" As she spoke, she put her hand on the back of my neck and rubbed gently. I was still nude, my clothes on the ground nearby. She put her mouth close to my ear and whispered, "I want you." She was still rubbing my neck, something that has always aroused me. It was an effort to turn my head and speak. "I'm not a lesbian." She grinned and tightened her grip on the back of my neck and began rubbi ng my belly with her left hand. "I am. Come back to my place and pose for me. " I moaned softly as her hand made wider circles on my belly. "I thought you wanted me ...." Her hand dipped between my legs. "I do. I'm just not sure which I want more - sex or pictures. You're so damn sexy!" I thrust forward with my hips, pushing myself against her hand. I was very wet and her middle finger slid into me without meeting the slightest resistance! I closed my eyes and whimpered with pleasure as her finger explored my wet cunt. "Do whatever you want. Just let me come!" She masturbated me for a minute or two and then stopped! I moaned and begged her to continue. She refused. She made me get dressed and then we walked back across the park to the parking lot. She was driving a new Land Rover, the first hint I had that she wasn't hurting for money. She ushered me into the passenger seat and stroked my thigh while I fastened my seat belt. She lived over in the Cedar Hill section of town, an area of older homes that was becoming fashionable again. Young married couples with money were buying the homes and fixing them up. Her place was a fairly modest Victorian on a two-acre lot. The land was worth much more than the house. The house was a shambles. She was remodeling it herself, not to save money, but because she just wanted to do it, to have the house be truly hers. She had a studio set up in a large room over the three-car detached garage. The garage was completely renovated. There was a workshop where you'd normally park. Upstairs was one big room with the exception of a small bathroom in one corner. It was a combination studio, exercise room, and bedroom. She had a sleeping bag in the corner near the bathroom. She unlocked the door and stepped aside so I could enter first. "Take your clothes off, please, and I'll show you around." I dropped my clothes just inside the door and followed her around the room. "I'd turn on the air-conditioning but I want you to sweat. Please, get on the stationary bike and ride it as hard as you can." I mounted the bike and began to pedal. Being nude on the bike was arousing. As was the way the seat rubbed against my vulva. Louise began to shot, alternating between a 35mm Nikon and a Sony digital camera. She encouraged me with soft words, crooned in a honeyed voice. She told me that if I were a good girl she'd fuck my brains out when we were done working. I had an orgasm on the bike and she caught a good shot of my face as I came! She drew my hands behind my back and cuffed them with soft leather restraints. She made me pedal harder. The sweat poured off my body, my hair was plastered to my head, and I grew aroused again. I had a second orgasm and she let me stop and rest. She removed the leather cuffs and put a collar around my neck. She had me pose on my hands and knees, like a cat. Had me move around the room on my hands and knees while she continued to shoot. She snapped a leash onto the collar and shot another roll of film. Between shots I drank bottled water to keep from getting dehydrated. After a few minutes she found a bowl somewhere and filled it with water. " Drink." I glanced at her for a moment before lowering my head to lap water from the bowl. I heard her shutter clicking like a machine gun. We worked steadily and it was suddenly past three p.m. The light was no longer suitable, according to Louise, and I realized I was starved. She took a quick shower and changed. Then she took me to my place and I showered and changed into a sundress and sandals so she could take me out to eat. She came into my bedroom as I was stepping into a pair of thong panties and said, "No underwear. Just put your dress on and we'll get going." My dress was a few years old, shorter than I would have bought then, and it showed a lot of leg. I felt very sexy. Part of it was being nude under the dress. Part of it was the way Louise looked at me. She took me to a nice place over by the lake. We talked before, during, and after dinner. I told her about my situation. Everything about my situation. She listened quietly and when I was done she said, "I want you to move in with me. I want you to pose for me every day. I'll pay you well, including benefits." She was, as I quickly realized, a woman who didn't agonize over decisions. I glanced away and then back, locking her eyes with mine. "And what about sex?" She grinned and patted my hand. "Don't worry about sex. I'll keep you satisfied!" I blushed. "That's not what I meant!" She nodded, still smiling. "I know but I couldn't resist." She paused for a sip of wine. "I want you in my bed. Actually, in my sleeping bag. But I want you more as a model so if you don't want to share my bed I'll respect your wishes. But my offer still stands. I'll take care of you until the baby arrives and you're back on your feet again." So I moved in with her. I slept in a separate sleeping bag for three days while I tested her resolve. She worked nights, from 3 p.m. `till midnight, and spent her days photographing me. I spent most of my days nude and I loved it. Modeling was fun and the results were spectacular! She was very excited and couldn't wait to show the prints to her agent. On our fourth day together I zipped the sleeping bags together and pretended to be asleep when she got home shortly after 12:30. I was, of course, naked. She crawled in with me and promptly fell asleep! I lay there, seething with frustration, for nearly an hour before I was able to fall asleep. She woke me the next morning by rubbing my belly. When she saw that I was awake she leaned and kissed me softly, her lips barely brushing mine. "Roll over on your belly and clasp your hands behind your neck." I obeyed without hesitation. "Draw your knees up under you." Again, I obeyed without hesitation. My head and shoulders were on the floor and my butt was raised to the right level. She eased a big, handheld dildo into my pussy while I whimpered with pleasure. She fucked me gently until I was fully lubricated. Then she fucked me harder and deeper while I moaned and whimpered. My submissive

position was most exciting! I screamed with pleasure when I came! She leaned close and whispered, "Don' t move." Then she began to stroke my back, buttocks, and thighs until I was aroused once again. This time she used her fingers and tongue to bring me to orgasm. There was no posing that day. She was falling behind on the house so we spent the day working after a quick trip to buy me some work boots, gloves, and safety glasses, jeans, and a couple of denim shirts. Months passed. The baby was born but I never saw it. I'd decided adoption was the best course. Louise took me home and let me mope around for a few days. Then she took charge and made me start working out. When I didn't perform up to her expectations she took a strap to me. I spent hours on the treadmill and the stationary bike and the rowing machine. She kept me nude and worked me hard. We worked on the house, too, the only time I was allowed to

wear clothing. Sex was forbidden to me but I had to satisfy her with my fingers and tongue. When I complained that it wasn't fair she smiled and spanked me until I was sobbing and pleading for mercy. By the following July I was in the best shape of my life. My body was firm and taut. I had a nice tan with no tan lines at all. I was healthy and vibrant, my eyes bright, my skin clear. Then she gave me a choice. Actually, she gave me several choices. I could find a job and leave. I could stay with her but as her slave. Or she could find me a master/mistress more to my liking. I had no intention of leaving her but I wanted to tease her. "How would you find me a more suitable master or mistress?" She shrugged. If she was upset she hid it well. "There are places I could take you to show you off. You're totally untrained, not really suitable to be a slave, but you're very sexy and you have a fantastic body. You'd go for a good price if I put you on the block." I shivered. "Would you actually sell me?" She grinned. "In an instant. You'd look good on the block. You'd be nude and oiled, collared and cuffed, and you'd be forced to perform for the buyers." "What do you mean by perform?" My voice quavered, betraying my anxiety. "You'd have to dance for them. Suck cock. Eat pussy. Let a variety of potential buyers fuck you. They'd want to know how you take pain so they'd whip you. Maybe indulge in a little needle torture." "Needle torture?" My voice was a whisper. I was terrified. "You know. Acupuncture needles through your nipples and labia. Maybe through your clit or into the tender area around your anus. Maybe some hot needles. I once saw a skewer pushed through a woman's tits." I dropped to my knees, sobbing in terror, and wrapped my arms around her thighs. "NO! Please don't sell me! Please! I want to stay with you!" She ruffled my hair and said "Don't worry. I have no intention of giving you up. You're mine!" That night, after dinner, I licked her feet in submission and accepted her as my mistress, my owner. She began training me the following day and by my thirty-first birthday she'd turned me into a true slave. A perfectly trained slave. She taught me to associate pain with pleasure by making sure that each time she caused me pain she followed it with incredible sexual pleasure. I got sex without pain for several months but when I was trained to expect sexual pleasure after pain the free sex stopped. I quickly learned, my body quickly learned, that there would be no sexual pleasure without pain. So, inevitably, I began to crave pain in order to experience the incredible sexual pleasure she was capable of giving me. My `final exam' was when she handed me two acupuncture needles and told me to pin my nipples to a cork tabletop. I cried as I pushed the needles though my nipples, deep into the cork. We were in the back room of a lesbian bar over in Centerville. She slipped a vibrator into my cunt, another one into my ass, and left me there on my knees. She came back to check me every few minutes. After an hour she gave me permission to remove the needles but I remained on my knees, vibrators in place, for another hour. She cured me of every last trace of modesty too. It started when she took me shopping at some of the local shops that cater to the bdsm/fetish crowd. At first I found it intensely embarrassing to be made to strip in front of a salesclerk, male or female, some of them just teenagers. But frequent public spankings soon cured me. Now, I could strip on a public street and not feel the slightest embarrassment even with my nipples, navel, labia, and clit piercings. She's mentioned crucifying me next Easter. Not with spikes, of course. But she'd make it as authentic as possible - crown of thorns (or barbed wire), scourging, dragging a heavy cross up a hill. Of course I'd be naked the entire time. I'm scared. And excited.

The End