The Reporter (f/f/f bnd) by Laura Lynn Davis
I was sitting in my usual spot in the last booth, working on a history paper, when she came in. It was late April and I would be graduating from college in less than three weeks. The paper I was working on was the last one I'd ever write unless I decided to go on to grad school, something that seemed fairly unlikely at the time. My name is Hanna Hill and I own a bar called The Haven. It was 10:30 in the morning, a little early for the lunch crowd, so I wondered what she was doing there. She wasn't much older than me, maybe 24 or 25, and she was well-dressed so she wasn't a lush looking for an early pick-me-up. Carol, the day bartender, drifted over to her and they began talking. I shrugged and went back to work on my paper. A few moments later I heard a footstep and a soft voice said, "Ms. Hill, may I talk to you for a moment?" I glanced up and smiled. "Of course, please sit down." She slid into the booth and held her hand out. "I'm Sara Livingston. I'm a writer." We shook hands. "Hanna Hill. I own The Haven." She glanced at my laptop. "Doing the books?" "I wish! No, I'm working on a history paper that's due tomorrow. I'm a senior at the university and this, thank God, is my last paper." I paused and saved the paper. "What can I do for you, Ms. Livingston?" "Please, call me Sara. May I call you Hanna?" I nodded and she continued. "I'm doing an article on the local S/m scene and I've heard that The Haven is the center of things around here." "Which publication are you with?" She shrugged. "None, actually. I'm a freelance writer and I'm doing this on spec." I studied her for a moment. She was blonde and pretty but there was something about her, something dark and brooding, that made me feel that there was more to this than writing an article. I was intrigued. I'd been bored lately and now that school was winding down it was time for me to rectify that. I decided that talking to her wouldn't do any harm. The Haven was well known locally. My aunt bought the place in the late 70s. It was just another bar but then, gradually, my aunt had changed it into a lesbian hangout. My aunt was heavily into the S/m scene and so it's not surprising that The Haven soon became the lesbian S/m bar in the tri-county area. My aunt, Grace, was my mother's younger sister, the black sheep of the family, rarely mentioned and then only in whispers. In 1993, shortly after my fourteenth birthday, my parents were killed in an automobile accident. The rest of the family began to dither and argue about what to do with me. While they were occupied my Aunt Grace swept in and carried me off. There were some protests, given her lifestyle, but, truthfully, they were all relieved to have the Hanna problem solved. Aunt Grace took me to live with her in her comfortable suburban house. She enrolled me in the Catholic high school and told me to keep my skinny butt on the straight and narrow or I'd have to deal with her. "No drugs. No sex. Do your school work on time and I'll expect to review every assignment before you turn it in. I won't accept anything lower than an A'. Any questions?" I remember nodding. "Yes, one. Can I have some fun once in a while?" She grinned. "Yes, but I want you to remember this. Each family has room for one smartass and that's my job. Got me?" I nodded. "Yes, ma'am." In 1997 Grace was diagnosed with cancer of the liver. She died in 1998, two weeks after my nineteenth birthday and I inherited The Haven and a tidy trust fund. The rest of the family gathered around, eager to grab what they could, but I had a good lawyer, Grace's lawyer, and she ran them off. By then, I'd been working as a waitress/barmaid for more than a year. It wasn't legal, because I was a minor, but nobody's ever complained. The Haven was grossing over $100,000 a month. We drew a good lunch crowd, mostly straight women who liked having lunch at a place where they wouldn't be hassled by men. A lot of them also came in for a drink after work. By eight they'd be gone and the regulars would start drifting in. Anyway, that's my background and that's what I told Sara that morning. I told her that I had a good manager who ran the place on a day-to-day basis and had a 10% share of the business. Then I told her I really had to finish
my paper and invited her to return in the evening and we'd talk more. She smiled and nodded and I watched her leave. She walked with a confident, athletic stride. She was wearing a skirt, a short skirt that showed off her nice legs. I felt a stir of interest as I watched her out the door. I continued working on my paper, moving back to the office when the lunch crowd started arriving. I finished the paper shortly after 4 p.m. and dropped a printed copy off at the professor's office. I had a class from 5-6:30 and then I went back to The Haven. I'd sold the house after Aunt Grace died and moved into the apartment upstairs from the bar. It was more convenient and much more suited to my needs. I fixed myself a salad and read the paper while I ate. Then I changed into leather pants, a sleeveless silk T-shirt, and a leather vest that matched the pants. A pair of leather ankle boots completed my outfit. I looked in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door before I went downstairs and decided I didn't look too bad for a freckled, redheaded tomboy who'd suffered two broken noses playing basketball. I'm a skosh over 5' 7" and I weigh 135 pounds. I'm in good shape and I work hard to stay that way. I look deceptively slender because much of my weight is muscle. I went downstairs and conferred with Carla, my manager. Carla is a tall, African-American in her early thirties. She started working for Aunt Grace right out of high school. When I got curious about the S/m scene and snuck into the bar one night it was Carla who caught me. I was eighteen and had just graduated from high school. She marched me back to the office and asked Aunt Grace what she should do with me. Aunt Grace asked me a couple of questions and decided to teach me a lesson. She smiled at Carla and said, "So, she's curious. I think she needs a lesson. Take her downstairs and teach her a good one. I want to see welts when you're done." Carla marched me down to the basement and through an unmarked door at the far end of the stockroom. The door opened into a surprisingly spacious room that had been fitted out as a dungeon. It was empty at that moment. Carla pushed me ahead of her and locked the door behind us. `Get your clothes off, Hanna." When I didn't move fast enough to suit her she gave me a lazy backhanded slap across my mouth. It wasn't a particularly hard slap but it stung and I felt a trickle of blood. She's split my lip. I stripped as quickly as I could. I was scared and excited. More scared than excited actually. The floor was bare cement and cold under my bare feet. "Down on your knees, bitch." I dropped to my knees and Carla crouched and taught me how to position myself. "Back straight, eyes on the floor, ankles crossed, knees spread, arms at your sides." She watched as I adjusted my position. "Good. Some mistresses prefer to have the slave's hands clasped behind their neck. I'm one of them." She smiled when I quickly clasped my hands behind my neck. " Lace your fingers together. Good." She stood up and glanced down. "Hmm. I seem to have some dust on the toes of my boots. Lick it off. Keep your hands where they are." It was hard but I managed to lean forward and lick the toes of her boots while keeping my hands laced behind my neck. I managed not to lose my balance but I wasn' t very graceful. I improved with practice. Carla crouched and slipped her hand between my legs. I saw her eyes widen in surprise. "You're a virgin!" I blushed and nodded. Her hands were rough and callused from hard work but they were gentle as they explored my vulva. "Have you ever had an orgasm?" Again, I shook my head and blushed. "No." She slapped me, a light slap to get my attention. "The proper reply is no, Ms. Carla. Or no, mistress. Try again and answer fully." The fear was ebbing a little, and I was getting more excited. "No, Ms. Carla, I've never had an orgasm." She smiled and stroked my cheek. "Much better." I didn't have one then, either. She stood up, grabbed my ponytail, and jerked me to my feet. I screamed as the pain lanced through my scalp. She dragged me to the center of the dungeon and within moments my hands were tied and held over my head by a rope that snaked over a pulley and was tied to a ringbolt set in a 4"x4" post six feet away. She took another rope that was dangling over another pulley and ran it between my legs, up through the crevice between my buttocks, and tied it off to a ringbolt set high in another 4"x4" that was behind me, about three feet away. The rope worked its way between my labia as she tugged on it. The friction wasn't unpleasant. It hurt when she jerked on the rope but I quickly discovered that rubbing myself against the rope produced a very pleasant sensation in my pussy. When she came around in front of me again she was carrying a flogger. It was similar to a cat-o nine-tails but the individual strands were rope, not knotted leather, and much shorter, about 16" long. She actually had two, one with cowhide strands for warm-up and then one with Elk hide which landed with a harder thud and hurt more. I glanced at her fearfully and whispered, "What are you going to do?" She smiled. "I'm going to warm you up with this and then later I'm going to put some welts on your butt so your Aunt will be satisfied I've done my job." She walked around behind me. "Arch your back girl, push that pretty ass toward me." I obeyed and she brought the flogger down across my butt. It hurt but it wasn't a terrible pain. More like a warming pain if you know what I mean.
I grunted softly. She worked my butt over good, alternating sides with each blow. Each stroke made me lunge forwards a little, rubbing my clit against the rope. She kept reminding me to arch my back to keep my butt out. I took ten or twelve strokes across my ass and then she switched to my back. After another ten or twelve she walked around in front of me and brought
the flogger down across my right breast. I'm not that big on top, 34b/c, but my tits are pretty and I have very sensitive nipples. Having my tits flogger hurt more than having my back or ass flogged and I began to whimper as she worked my tits over. Interestingly, my nipples hardened and I became more and more aroused. She moved back behind me after two dozen strokes and began working my ass over again. I began to breathe more deeply and I started to sweat. Between strokes, Carla talked to me. Told me I was a pretty slut and would make a good slave. " Maybe your aunt will let me train you." She stopped after a couple of minutes. I was close to orgasm and I moaned in disappointment but I continued to rub myself against the rope. She stroked my ass. "You're a hot little slut. You want more?" I nodded. "Yes, oh yes. Please." "Where?" "My ass! Hard. And then my tits. Yes, please whip my tits. Hard as you can." She gave me a dozen very hard strokes across my ass with the Elk flogger. I lunged against the rope with each stroke. Then she moved in front and whipped my tits. I whimpered in pain with each stroke, lunging backward. The rope rubbed against my anus. After each stroke I lunged forward for the next. I came after six hard strokes across my tits. I was sweating profusely. I rubbed myself on the rope and whimpered in pleasure as I came and came. When it was over, Carla used a strap to put some welt on my butt. The she released me and taught me to kneel and kiss the whip after thanking my tormentor. Then she put a collar around my neck, cuffed my wrists behind my back. and snapped a leash on my collar. She led me upstairs to Aunt Grace's office. Aunt Grace didn't seem surprised to see me nude, collared, and cuffed. It wasn't until much later that I learned she'd watched the entire scene on closed-circuit television. In full color. Carla led me over to the desk and I dropped to my knees as she ordered me to do as we climbed the stairs. Carla let her hand come to rest on top of my head. "I want her
for the summer. I'll have her trained by the time she leaves for college in the fall." "She's not leaving. She's going to the university. Go ahead, she's yours until she's trained." "Thank you. One thing you should know. She's a virgin." Aunt Grace smiled. "So, you've been a good girl?" I nodded, blushing. "Yes, ma'am." "Do you want Carla to take care of that?" I don't know how, but my blush deepened. I nodded and whispered, "Yes, ma 'am." Aunt Grace waved her hand. "Go ahead, take her. The two of you can move in upstairs for the summer." So Carla took me upstairs and fucked me with a strap-on dildo. It hurt like hell and I bled, not a lot, but enough to leave streaks of blood on my thighs. I was disappointed when I didn't reach orgasm. The summer passed all too quickly. My training was very intense. There was lots of pain, lots of sex, and more humiliation than I wanted. Carla worked me hard and by the end of the summer I was a well-trained slave and I was in the best shape of my life. I was fit and buff. I'd gotten used to being nude most of the time and I even came to enjoy being shaved. Things tapered off when I started college but I still had at least one session a week in the dungeon. I was living in the apartment over the bar. Aunt Grace had it painted and fixed up for me and she bought some new furniture. Carla's rule was that I stay naked when I was in the apartment. She had a key and she'd drop in at odd times. Sometimes we'd just chat for a few minutes. Sometimes she'd fuck me. Often she'd whip my ass for no reason other than her own pleasure. Things picked up over the Christmas break and in January Carla told me that she'd taught me all she could. She knew I wanted to be a top and she said I was ready to try. We had one last session in the dungeon that lasted all night. It was a night with no safeword. She took me as close to my breaking point as I've ever been. I almost broke when she spread my buttocks and kept them spread with duct tape while she pushed hot needles into the tender skin around my anus. I was hanging upside-down, my legs spread wide.
I screamed until I was hoarse and begged for mercy until I passed out. I woke up in my own bed. My ass was sore for several days but I'd passed the final test. That night, I told Sara everything you've just read and more. I told her about my first sub, a classmate, who'd loved the scene too much and had run home to her mother. I told her about Carla and Aunt Grace and filled her in on the local scene while we sat in my booth. I was drinking vodka, rocks, and she was drinking scotch and water. One thing that came out of my sessions with Carla was a morbid fear of canes. A cane can do real, lasting damage in the hands of someone who doesn't know what they're doing. Carla used one on me a couple of times and it was the worst pain I've ever felt. Even worse than the hot needles. When I' m nude and helpless, just the sight of a cane can reduce me to hysterical tears. When I was stubborn about doing something Carla would just say, " Cane," and that would end it. Even when I'm fully dressed and in control the sight of a cane makes me feel sick to my stomach. And I told this to Sara, too. I'd told Sara to dress casually and she was wearing jeans, a tshirt, and running shoes. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She looked like the girl-next-door, fresh-scrubbed and wholesome. And very pretty. I took a sip of vodka and glanced around before asking, "Okay, where do we go from here?" She'd been taping our conversation with my permission and she'd also taken several pages of notes. "Can I see the dungeon?" I nodded. "Sure. It's probably not busy since it's early." It was just past 9:00 p.m. and the real action wouldn't start until close to midnight. We finished our drinks and then I took her downstairs. The dungeon hadn' t changed much over the years. The sound proofing had been improved and some new toys added but it was still basically the same dungeon Aunt Grace had installed. When we walked in we saw a cute little brunette spread-eagled on an x-frame on the west wall. Her name was Darlene and she was the sub girlfriend of a tough leather dyke named Evelyn. Darlene was stretched tight, gagged, and had clamps on her nipples, labia and clit. Her breasts, belly, and thighs showed signs of a recent flogging. She gave no sign that she was aware of
our presence. Evelyn had trained her well. Evelyn wasn't there so I assumed she'd gone upstairs for a drink. I showed Sara around and explained the equipment to her. She was wide-eyed and I saw a bead of sweat on her upper lip. The dungeon is kept fairly warm but not enough to make her sweat like that. I knew she was scared. Or excited. When the tour was over we stopped in the center of the room and I said, "What now?" She hesitated. "I want the whole experience. I want to know what it's like to be totally helpless, knowing that I'm going to feel intense pain." "Pick a safeword." She shook her head. "No, no safeword. I'd feel different if I knew I could stop it at any time." It was my turn to hesitate. Having a safeword was the one unbreakable rule we had in the dungeon. I used the wall phone to call upstairs to talk to Carla. She wasn't as bothered as I was about the lack of a safeword and told me to go ahead. "I'll come down and check periodically." I hung up and turned to Sara. "Hold your hands out in front of you." She put her hands together and held them out in front of her. I fastened leather cuffs around each of her slender wrists and fastened them together with a spring clip. Then I led her into the middle of the room and tied one of the dangling ropes to the cuffs. I walked over to the post and pulled the rope in until Sara's arms were stretch over her head. There was slack in the rope but she wouldn't be able to bring her arms lower than a few inches above her head. I didn't ask her to strip because I wanted to start slowly. And I wanted to uncover her myself. Like unwrapping a Christmas present. She was very lovely and I was starting to feel excited. I pulled her t-shirt up and rubbed her belly. "You're a beautiful slut." She sighed as I rubbed her belly and slanted a glance at me. "Do you really think I'm beautiful?" I nodded. "Yes, I do. And you know you are. You're very aware of your body. It shows in the way you move and the way you look at people. You' re not vain but I'm sure you're proud of the way you look." She nodded. "Yes, I am. But I'm more proud of the fact that I've worked hard to stay in shape. My looks are just luck. But maintaining my body is hard work. I'm sure you know that." I nodded and pulled a pocket knife out of my jeans and opened the longer blade. Her eyes widened and I saw a flash of fear. "Relax, I'm just going to cut your t-shirt off." She nodded and watched as I cut her t-shirt away. She was wearing a plain cotton bra, Hanes, and I left it for a moment. I crouched and removed her running shoes and socks. Then I unfastened her belt, unsnapped her jeans, and eased them down and off. I stuffed her socks into her running shoes, folded her jeans, and picked up her ruined t-shirt. I took them and put them on a small table near the door. I took my time because I wanted her to have time to think about what was happening. When I waked back to her I put my hands on her hips and kissed her on the mouth. She struggled for a moment before opening her mouth in surrender. After a long, satisfying kiss I cut her bra and panties off. I ruined them
deliberately so she'd think about not having them on when she left the dungeon. As I'd suspected, her body was superb. Her firm breasts were a good, full c-cup, round and beautiful, tipped with pale pink nipples that stood up like pencil erasers. Her complexion was perfect with only a few freckles here and there. Her ass was also superb, her buttocks firmly rounded, separated by a deep crease. Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed but thick, hiding her vulva completely. Her thighs were long and firm, her knees delicately sculpted, her calves strong and elegantly curved. She was perfect. And she was embarrassed to be nude. I fondled her tits, teasing her nipples with my thumbs. She closed her eyes and moaned. I realized that she was scared, very scared. "Do you want
me to untie you?" She shook her head. "No, I want you to punish me." Her voice had changed.
It was deeper and there was something in it that made me think that there was more to her fear than just being nude and helpless. "Why?" She closed her eyes and the look on her face was one of deep shame. "I deserve it." Suddenly it hit me. "Were you abused as a child?" Her eyes flew open. "No!" Her voice was now higher, like that of a teenaged girl. "No, I wasn't abused. My daddy fucked me because he love me and because mommy wouldn't satisfy his needs." "So why do you want to be punished?" Tears began to stream down her face. "Be ... be... because I told mommy.
I told her that daddy liked to fuck me because I was more of a woman than she was. I told her that I loved having daddy fuck me. I flaunted myself in front of her." She fell silent, sobbing. "And?" She began to shake her head from side-to-side, wailing. "And mommy killed
herself. She ran her car into a bridge abutment. The police said there were no skid marks!" She stood there sobbing and I slipped my arms around her. She put her head on my shoulder and I rubbed her back until she stopped crying. Then I untied her and told her to put her jeans, socks, and shoes on. "We've got some t-shirts left over from last year's softball team. I think I can find one to fit you. I left her there and went to get the t-shirt. When I came back she was on her way up the stairs. Her bare breasts bounced gently with each step. She looked very sexy topless. Her eyes were red and swollen. I handed her the t-shirt when she got to the top of the stairs. As she was pulling it over her head Evelyn edged past on her way downstairs. I took Sara's hand and led her back into the bar. I sat her down in my booth and went to get us each a stiff drink. When I returned we sat in silence for a few moments. Then she said, "I still want the experience. For my article, of course." I nodded. "Of course. But I want you to go home and sleep on it. You can come back tomorrow. I'll be here from noon on. Probably earlier." She nodded. "Okay." We finished our drinks and I walked her out to her car. She was parked in the back lot. She's 5' 10" so I had to lift myself on my toes to kiss her goodnight. I ran my hands up under her t-shirt, enjoying the feel of her soft, smooth skin under my palms. "Would you like to
come home with me?" I smiled. "I'd love to but not tonight. You need to relax and decide if this is what you really want." I kissed her again and stepped back so she could get into her car. I felt very virtuous as I walked back inside. I found Carla. "Can you get away for a couple of minutes? I want you whip
me." She took me downstairs and whipped me until I was sobbing. It didn't make me feel any better but it took my mind off Sara. At the end, sobbing, I said, "Give me five with a cane." I closed my eyes and screamed as the cane raised welts on my ass. When it was over Carla untied me and took me back upstairs to the bar. I was still nude as I waited tables until closing time. Carla made me do most of the cleanup myself. She knew what I needed in the mood I was in. When I finished, she took me upstairs and fucked me with a huge punishment dildo. I cried myself to sleep after she left. Saturday morning was unusually warm for April and I took full advantage. I ran my errands wearing a pair of soft cotton exercise shorts, a sports bra under a skimpy little sleeveless top, socks. and my Nike cross trainers.
I did wear a pair of sexy thong panties. One of my stops was the beauty salon run by one of my favorite customers. She trimmed my unruly hair and then I went in back and one of her girls gave me a full bikini wax. On the way out I told her I'd probably be sending in a new girl for the full treatment. I stopped at the bank to use the ATM, the post office, and the supermarket before heading over to The Haven. As usual, Carla was already there. She' s still my domme even though it's not an active, full time relationship. She'll always be my domme. She glanced up and smiled as I locked the front door behind me. "Strip." I obediently slipped out of my clothes and folded them neatly and put them on a shelf underneath the bar. I kept my socks and cross trainers. Carla ran her fingers over the welts on my ass and said, "You'll have some bruises for at least ten days. Maybe longer." We worked together to get ready to open at 1:00 p.m. Sara showed up at noon, wearing shorts and a halter. I threw Carla a pleading glance but she shook her head and I was still nude when I opened the door to admit Sara. Her eyes widened when she saw me nude. She was even more surprised when she saw the welts on my ass. Before I could say a work Carla took over. "Get your clothes off, bitch. There's work to do." Sara gave me a startled look. I just shrugged. She stripped down to her socks and Carla put her to work. As we worked, I managed to whisper an explanation and Sara readily accepted the notion that although I was a domme myself I would always be Carla's sub. We worked hard for forty-five minutes, finishing with fifteen minutes to spare before it was time to open. Carla pulled out a chair and sat down. She pointed to the floor in front of the chair and said, "I want you both on your knees." We dropped to our knees in front of her. I assumed the proper position and was impressed when Sara looked at me and assumed the same position. Carla leaned forward and ran the back of her hand over my nipples. "I want you back in a collar for the summer. Any problems with that?" The only possible answer was, "No, ma'am." She smiled. "I know I don't have to explain but I will. I want you under close supervision when you train this beauty next to you. She's too beautiful and too fragile to risk screwing it up. Understand?" I nodded. "Yes, ma'am." She glanced at Sara. "Any objections? Are you going to submit to this scrawny little redheaded scrub?" Sara, wide-eyed, said, "No objections, ma'am. And yes, I'm planning to submit to Hanna. I mean Ms. Hill. If she'll have me." Carla snorted. "That's a good one, if she'll have you! Let me tell you this. All the time I was working her last night she was thinking about you. Girl's in love. Wants your ass so bad she can't see straight! If she wants you! Ha. Girl would crawl over hot coals to lick the sweat off your thighs. That's a fact!" She glanced at me. "Isn't it?" I shot a quick glance at Sara and then lowered my eyes to a spot near Carla 's feet. "Yes, ma'am. You're right." "Damn right I'm right. Now get your butts down to the dungeon. I got to open up in ten minutes." We scampered downstairs and Carla collared us both. Then she cuffed us and had us stand face-to-face, belly-to-belly, while she looped a rope around both sets of cuffs and pulled it until our arms were stretched above our heads. My arms, naturally, were stretched more than Sara's." She left us there, saying she'd be back in an hour or so. Before she left she ran a long strap around our bodies and cinched it tight so that we were pressed together. She fastened the strap and patted each of us on the butt before leaving. She paused at the door to turn the heater on and I saw her push the thermostat up high. The dungeon has its own heat and it was going to get very warm. It was very erotic to be belly-to-belly with the most beautiful woman I'd ever met, the woman I was falling in love with. Since she's three inches taller, her breasts were kind of resting on top of mine. I bent my head and licked her nipples, one after the other. She giggled. When I shot her a dirty look she made a face. "Sorry, but it tickled." She bent and kissed me. "Do you really love me?" I nodded. "Yes, I do." "And you'll still enslave me? How can you do that if you love me?" "One has nothing to do with the other." It sounds stupid but it's true. At least in my case it's true. I kissed her back. "You're not really a reporter, are you?" She shook her head. "No, I'm not." She licked her lips. "I'm unemployed right now. I was a school teacher until I admitted to being a lesbian. They fired me the same day. I could have sued to get my job back and I probably would have won but I didn't want to go through all that." "So, how'd you wind up in here? And why pretend to be a reporter?" As I spoke I pushed my right knee between her legs and rubbed my thigh against her vulva. She moaned. "I can't think while you're doing that!" I pulled my knee out from between her legs. "Sorry." "I came in the other night with a friend and I saw you. You were wearing that school girl outfit and looked about seventeen. I fell in love with you instantly. My friend told me a little about you and I decided to play reporter and find out more." "Ummm. So you're attracted by the school girl look? Maybe they were right to fire your ass." She looked hurt and I was instantly contrite. "I'm sorry. Bad joke. You can ask Carla to beat me later." She sniffed. "Don't think I won't. But you're right. I was attracted by the school girl look. You looked so innocent. I wanted to rip your clothes off and go down on you right there in the bar." I chuckled. "It's been done but not too often. The liquor board frowns on it." I eased my knee between her legs again and she sighed with pleasure as I rubbed my thigh against her sex. She spread her feet a little and leaned against me. It was getting hot and we were beginning to sweat. It was very sexy to feel her wet skin rubbing against mine. I brought her to orgasm and then it was my turn. But in my case, I masturbated myself by rubbing against her thigh. After my orgasm we continued to kiss and rub against each other. We were sweating profusely and our hair was wet and plastered to our heads. Gradually the head wilted us and we stood quietly, our bodies touching at every possible point. I whispered, "Are you sure about all this?" She nodded. "Yes, I want to be your slave. I love you and I want to be a good slave." I sighed. "I love you too." I kissed her and at that moment Carla opened the door. She released us and shooed us up the back stairs. "Go up and take a shower and a nap. I'm going to work your asses tonight. You'll both work the bar. Nude." As we scampered up the stairs she called, "No sex either or I'll beat you like drums. You understand me?" We chorused, "Yes, ma'am," and slipped into my apartment. She said no sex but she didn't say we couldn't explore each other's bodies in the shower. We did and only got out when the hot water was gone. We dried off, dried each other's hair, and cuddled on my bed. I told Sara I wanted her to have a full bikini wax. "I want you bare and smooth." She nodded, "Anything you say, ma'am." She hugged me and we drifted off to sleep. Carla woke us at 8:00 p.m. and told us to get our butts down to the bar. " I'm going to rest until midnight. Annie's got the bar. You two do what she says, hear me?" We nodded and hurried out the door. Annie was a cute domme, an Asian girl with short black hair, beautiful almond-shaped eyes, and smooth copper skin. She and I had a little history but not much. Two dommes usual don't get along for too long. But now, under Carla's orders, Annie was in charge. She enjoyed seeing me nude and collared and enjoyed working my butt off. She didn't care for blondes so she paid little attention to Sara. It was a good thing because I would have kicked her ass, orders or no orders, if she'd made a move on Sara. Carla would have blistered my ass afterward but it would have been worth it. The regulars enjoyed seeing me work nude but they knew the situation and knew better than to try to take advantage. I was stroked and fondled and I took it in stride. Sara was a little flustered when someone slipped a hand between her legs but she soon got used to it. I enjoyed watching her and I especially enjoyed the dreamy look on her face when someone was fondling her. The girl definitely liked being handled. We worked hard until closing at 2 a.m., and then we worked hard for another hour getting the bar cleaned up. We were closed Sunday, so we could sleep
late. Sara was staying with me, of course. Carla gave me permission to begin training Sara. She warned me to be careful and said she'd be talking to us every day. She left and I locked the door behind her. Then I took Sara's hand and we walked upstairs to my apartment. We were so tired we fell asleep almost immediately after taking a quick shower. I woke up at six a.m. Sara was still sound asleep, laying on her back, legs spread slightly. I crawled between her legs and began to lick and kiss her, high on the soft skin on her inner thighs. She sighed as my tongue found her clit. I brought her to orgasm without waking her up. I wondered what she was dreaming about as she came. She had a sweet taste that I enjoyed. After that I stretched out beside her with my head propped on my hand and just stared at her magnificent body. After a while I felt sleepy again. I curled up next to her and fell asleep with my head resting on her thigh. I woke again shortly after 11:00 a.m. I was on my back, my legs spread, and Sara was lightly stroking my bare vulva with the tips of her fingers. Her face was about six inches from my pussy and she looked fascinated. She glanced up at me and smiled, "I've never looked at another woman's cunt from this close! Yours is so beautiful! And so delicate." She eased her finger into me and I moaned with pleasure. She grinned as I pushed myself against her finger, whimpering in need. She placed her thumb on my clit and began to rub. I moaned and whimpered and screamed with pleasure when I came. She held her hand in front of my face and I licked her finger clean. "Are you going to start training me this morning?" I shook my head. "No, I can't. I have to call Carla." She was clearly puzzled. "Why?" I shook my head. "You'll see." I dialed Carla's home number and when she answered I said, "It's Hanna. Can you train Sara? Can you handle both of us for a few months?" "Why?" I glanced at Sara. "Because I'm in love. Because I want to get down on my knees and worship her." I saw Sara's eyes widen in surprise. "So what exactly are you saying, Hanna?" I took a deep breath. "I'm saying that I want you to train Sara and then I want to get down on my knees and submit to her. I'm a slave at heart. I just realized it. Maybe I had to meet my personal goddess before I realized it." "Put her on the phone." I handed the phone over. "She wants to talk to you." Sara's part of the conversation consisted of "Yes, ma'am" and "No, ma'am " and it only lasted for a minute. After she put the phone down she held her arms out and I crawled into her lap. She fondled me and told me that she loved me, that I was the cutest tomboy bitch she'd ever met. She went down on me and it was incredible. She teased me with her tongue until I was begging her to let me come. When she finally brought me to orgasm she smiled and said, "You're mine now. Or almost mine." Then we scampered downstairs and were waiting, on our knees, when Carla let herself in. The summer was incredibly intense. But first we had to get through my graduation. Carla and Sara both attended, beaming like proud parents. They were the only one's who knew that all I had on, other than my robe, was a pair of sandals and my collar. We had a dinner celebration that night and then Sara's training began. At the same time, Carla worked me, retraining me, preparing me for the day when I'd go to Sara on my belly and lick her feet in submission and being my life as a slave. Sara's training lasted through the summer and beyond, into October. I'm not sure if it was just Carla's perfectionist ways or just that she enjoyed having us both as her slaves. Having declared myself a slave I couldn't keep control of the bar. I solved that problem by giving Sara and Carla 30% each. I kept the remaining 40% but they were in control. Being a sub again, this time permanently, was surprisingly satisfying - with no more decisions to make, fewer worries, no responsibilities. Carla did have Sara waxed and I marveled at the beauty of her bare cunt. It was as perfect as the rest of her body. But I wasn't allowed to touch her until she was trained and was ready to accept my submission. Seeing her every day, nude, and not being able to touch her was pure agony. Carla worked her hard. I spent hours on my knees in the dungeon, watching Carla put Sara through her paces. I watched her cry, heard her scream, and listened to her as she begged for mercy. Once, Carla put Sara on her knees on a large tray full of pebbles. Sara was trussed up tight and had a penis gag in her mouth. She endured it as long as she could and then endured it for hours more, tears streaming down her face, rocking from side-to-side, and trying to ease the torment. Finally, unable to watch any longer, I picked Sara up and put her down on the floor. My punishment was to replace her and do the remainder of her time - ninety minutes - and a full five hours of my
own. We went to the Cape in August and spent two weeks in P-town. We spent a lot of time on the nude beach at Race Point. Carla took us out at night, leading us in and out of bars on leashes. We wore sandals and sundresses, nothing more. Other than our collars, that is. Carla used us both but we were forbidden to have sex with each other. We never disobeyed. We were both too scared of what Carla might do if she caught us. Finally, on the 28th of October, Carla decided that Sara was ready. They spent the entire day away. When they returned, Sara had a new hairdo and was wearing a new black dress. She still had a nice tan so her legs were bare. She had a new pair of strappy sandals that she'd bought to go with the dress. She looked elegant. I'd worked all day and I looked like something the cat dragged in. But, at 10:00 p.m. Sara was seated in a chair near the last booth. It was no longer my booth, it belonged to her and Carla. I was wearing cutoff jeans and a tank top. I took them off and crawled the length of the room on my belly. About fifty regular customers were watching. I slipped Sara's sandals off her feet and set them aside. Then I licked Sara's feet in abject submission and begged her to accept me as her slave. She let me grovel until my humiliation was complete. Then she bent and
grabbed a handful of hair and jerked my head up. "Get your skinny little ass down to the dungeon and wait for me. On your belly, your hands laced behind your neck. You're going to scream tonight." I whispered, "Yes, mistress." And then I crawled away. When I was far enough away I got up and ran. She let me wait for at least an hour. And I did scream. By morning I had my voice was almost gone. I was standing in
the middle of the dungeon, the only thing keeping me from collapsing was the rope that was holding my hands above my head. I was staring at the floor in a near-stupor, sweat streaming down my body. Sara grabbed a handful of hair with her left hand and lifted my head until my eyes met hers. She slid her right hand down across my belly and cupped my vulva, squeezing hard. "This is mine. You're mine. I own this cunt and this body. Nobody touches you but me and you don't touch anybody unless I order you to do so. Do you understand?' I nodded and croaked, "Yes, mistress." She smiled and touched her lips to mine. "If I so much as see you holding hands with someone I use the cane on you until you don't have an inch of whole skin left anywhere on your body. Got that?" I shivered in terror. "Yes, mistress." I was so scared I wet myself. She untied the rope and caught me over her shoulder as I fell forward. She carried me upstairs and put me down on the bed while she filled a tub with hot water and bubble bath. Then she picked me up again and carried me into the bathroom. She eased me down into the tub and sat down beside it.
She put a folded towel behind my neck and I drifted off to sleep. When I woke she was gently washing my body with a bath sponge and liquid soap. She shampooed my hair and then let the water out of the tub. She stripped while the water was running out and then got in with me. She turned the shower on and rinsed my hair. When she was satisfied she turned the water off and helped me out of the tub. I sat astride the toilet while she dried my hair. Then she picked me up and carried me to bed. I slept until one p.m., cuddled up against her. When I woke up she kissed me and got up to get a strap-on. She came back and handed me a jar of petroleum jelly. I stared at her in silence with tears in my eyes. Then, after a long moment, I got up on my knees and greased my anus. Then I lay back down with two pillows under my belly and reached back to spread my buttocks. I stared at the wall while she sodomized me. I had tears running down my cheeks but they were from crying. I was happy because my personal, private goddess was using me for her own pleasure. I supported my weight on my forearms while she reamed my ass. After several minutes she stopped with the dildo almost out of my ass. "Clench your asshole and hold it in." I obeyed with hesitation. She looped a velvet cord around my neck and pulled it tight. I stared the wall, offering no resistance at all. She tightened the cord until my breath was cut off. I was starting to see spots when she slammed the dildo home with a convulsive thrust of her hips. I had the most intense fuckin' orgasm I'd ever experienced! She loosened the cord and pulled it off. I took a deep shuddering breath. She eased the dildo out of my ass and stroked my buttocks. "Good girl. I had to know if you trusted me." I turned and looked at her, whispered, "Of course I trust you, mistress. You own me." I turned and licked her knee. She has the prettiest knees I' ve ever seen. "I love you. I worship you. Do as you wish with me. Just let me serve you."
The End.