Labor Day Lesbian Submission: Part 7
By
Susie T. (susietreasure@yahoo.com)
(This story is not for minors or anyone offended by descriptions of sexual exploration between adventurous women. All characters are ... well, you figure it out for yourself. Feedback is welcome, esp. from like-minded gurls!)
Part 7
Even as I write this I have to stop to catch my breath, because writing is a form of reliving, and reliving the intensity of my extraordinary last evening with these diabolically beautiful tormentors is almost unbearable -- unbearable because of their absence.
Somehow or other Gwen and Heather divined my essence and reached my core. I'm ashamed of this, ashamed of having found out what I want and wanted, and the only way I figure I can work through this is to write about it, in every memorable detail. I hope it doesn't become tedious, so bear with me.
I guess the other thing for readers to know is that you really have to be in `the mood' to be turned on by what I'm about to describe, you have to have that naughty horny feeling ahead of time.... At least that's what happens to me. Otherwise it's all bland and boring and distant. Which it certainly was NOT while I experienced it!
Anyway, to go on....
Heather was released and Gwen guided me over to the sofa where I was permitted to kneel at her feet. Heather seemed visibly shaken -- not by the physical pain of the lashings, but by the enormity of her unfulfilled desire. Gwen gazed at her demurely while stroking my cheek.
"You can use a drink, honey," said Gwen. "In fact, I've got a nice bottle of champagne for us, for a toast. Why don't you do the honors, Heather?"
As her "pet" left for the kitchen I looked with keen lust at her exquisite lithe sexy dancer's figure. Gwen unbound my arms but commanded that I keep them behind my back as I knelt. Heather returned with a tray holding 3 glasses of champagne filled to the brim and set the tray down as she seated herself on the sofa beside Gwen. I know it sounds crazy, but the dim candlelit room with its view of the tree-lined street seemed very romantic.
I was permitted to take a glass and Gwen offered a toast.
"To my pet," she said, and we all clinked glasses and sipped. Then, "To our beautiful new slut," and we drank again. And finally, "To an exciting conclusion."
We drained our glasses and the alcohol quickly suffused me, warming my body and smoothing the rough edges of my mind, taking the edge off my fear of their unknown plans.
"And now for the piece de resistance," exclaimed Heather.
They turned me around on my knees so that my back was facing the sofa on which they sat. Heather bound my wrists very tightly together and wound the length of dangling cord around my braided hair, pulling my head backwards as far as it could go, linking it to my wrists and fully exposing my neck. It was literally impossible for me to move my head forward even an inch.
They then guided me back towards the sofa so that the small of my back rested against it and my elbows were supported by the cushion. My ankles of course were already bound and my thighs were spread lewdly apart and my entire body was arched upwards. It was physically uncomfortable, but the discomfort was compensated for by my knowing how provocative, pleasing and incredibly sexy I must have looked with my pert full breasts, flat tummy and slender strong splayed legs, and of course my sweet tender expectant willing cunt. The dildo in my ass continued to fill and stretch my insides to add to my nearly uncontrollable sexual tension.
"How does our whore feel now?" asked the forbidding Gwen.
"Wonderful, Mistress," I replied honestly.
"You think it's wonderful to be tied and stretched and spread to be totally at my whim?" she continued.
"Yes, Mistress."
"Well, I hope you're ready for what's coming, slut because this is what I had in mind the moment I poured your drink the other night."
Heather blindfolded me at this point and I shuddered with even more apprehensive lustful expectancy.
"Open your mouth, please, bitch," ordered Gwen. "This is a crop," she said, inserting the tip between my lips, "and I'd like you to suck on it, to get it nice and wet."
"Have you ever felt the sting of a crop?" she asked.
I shook my head.
Her voice was sultry and low. "It's a wonderful tool -- it can really make a statement."
She withdrew the crop's tip from my mouth and in a second it cut through the air and landed on the inside of my right thigh.
"Oh my god, oh my god" I moaned. I tried to pull my thighs together but an even more viciously stinging blow landed on the tender inner part of my left thigh, and I screamed in pain.
"Keep those fucking legs open, bitch!" Gwen warned.
Because of the blindfold my anxiety was increased: I couldn't tell where she would strike next. I felt a tapping on the anal plug and then a flicking across my mouth before another swoosh landed on the underside of my left breast. Again, I couldn't help but scream out.
Heather's hand was on my hair making sure my head and neck were arched up and back as far as possible
.
And then Gwen struck me rapidly and unpredictably, on my outer thighs, my flanks, my breasts, and I flinched and winced and squirmed and moaned, and a sharp snap on my pussy forced me to cry out involuntarily.
"Oh, fuck, oh my god, oh, please, please....." I groaned.
The crop lashed my mouth next.
"Quiet, Susie, you're getting what you want aren't you, aren't you getting just what you deserve?" said Gwen.
Then suddenly she struck my pussy again, and my pelvis twitched upwards, but I bit my lip and remained silent as the pain spread over my pubic mound and throughout my loins. She tapped quickly and lightly at times, and then deliberately and very hard at others, all over me, barely leaving me time to recover from one blow before she administered another.
I could smell Heather's arousal and I longed to lick her sweet burning cunt as my own cunt and body burned. Gwen had paused, giving me time to recover, to catch my breath, and then she started again, this time focusing on my pussy. She tapped and smacked lightly and rhythmically and my lips tingled and my pussy oozed with juice and a tremendous tension started to build as the force of her strokes grew and I squirmed violently into her blows just on the verge of finally, finally cumming .... And I remembered my duty, and cried out for permission: "Please, Mistress," I panted, "please may I cum, please do me, make me cum, I can't take it, please Mistress...."
But it was not to be, at least not then. Gwen had brought me to the very edge and quickly and wickedly she led me away: two unbelievably painful strokes of the crop to my inner thighs stopped my climax in its tracks and I screamed out as much in utter frustration as in pain.
"Oh fuck, shit, I can't take it, oh fuck you, you bitch, fuck you, you fucking bitch, I need to cum, I need to cum now!" I yelled.
Gwen's lips were on mine and she muffled my complaints with a deep kiss, small but welcome solace.
"You'll come only when I let you, my slut. Your cumming is entirely in your Mistress's control," whispered Gwen. "Why don't you rest for a while," she continued, lightly tracing her finger from my chin to my pussy before she rose. "There's more to come."
There I lay, blindfolded, my heaving body stretched backwards from the carpeted floor on which I knelt across the lip of the sofa. My feet were bound together, my legs opened vulnerably wide. My hands were also tied behind my arched back, and my hair was bound to my hands forcing my head up and back I could occasionally feel the heels of my feet with my buttocks when my pelvis recoiled in response to Gwen's vicious blows of the crop, but generally Heather's hand kept a firm grip on my hair to compel me to remain as arched upwards as possible. I could imagine no more vulnerable position, and in this exquisite vulnerablity I found sweet degraded comfort.
I was indeed Gwen's and Heather's bitch, slut, slave, whore, plaything, pleasure-doll, cunt.... And now I wanted to kiss and lick Gwen's and Heather's cunt and asses, as I had the first night, out of sheer gratitude. I wanted them to cum so wildly and fully that they could never forget their new sexual servant.
(to be concluded.....)