Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
I stretched out as much as I could given my current situation. This all started several months ago when I was home alone. The plan was to spend the night with my best and only friend Kim. However that plan changed when she arrived with her boyfriend David and his friend Susan. It turned out Susan’s cousin could get them into a party but they needed me to be her date.
Even though I had no interest in girls I was a pushover and reluctantly agreed. In actuality I was the innocent virgin being offered for sacrifice. Susan, not liking the fact I wanted Kim to break up with David, devised a cruel way to get me out of the picture. Knowing that my parents exposed a government backed mental research project, a secret I entrusted with my then friend Kim, Susan blackmailed me into a lesbian relationship with her domant cousin. The alternative of having my parents go to jail left me no choice to but to proclaim that I was a lesbian and become Nicole’s ‘girlfriend’.
Nicole was so comfortable in herself, so self-assured, a very modern woman, confidant, outgoing, assertive, brazen and sexual. An experienced dominant with a perversion for voyeurism. I, on the other hand, was the exact opposite, sexually inexperienced, shy and introverted, easy prey for the beautiful lesbian. Conceding control of my life, I was a marionette bound by my strings to my mistress who methodically worked to mold me into the perfect lesbian submissive.
Modifying your sexuality to conform to another is a dangerous commitment. Privately I kept telling myself it was all an act. A lecherous performance to meet the demands of my blackmailer. Something I had no interest in pursuing. However, like a dedicated visionary, Nicole planted and cultivated sexual fetishes into my very being, hard wiring them into my subconscious as she purged my hetersexual desires like weeds corrupting my sapphic garden. Compelling me to obey her will and replacing my thoughts with the fictional persona she created.
Surprisingly, everyone accepted the situation. My mother, having been in a female relationship through college, seemed delighted I was in a relationship with a woman and became friends with Nicole and unknown to me, lovers. Nicole even pressed me into additional sapphic relationships: A stripper named April who enjoyed pretending to be my sister, a mother named Annette as well as her secretary Lisa, I even had a fling with a Hooters waitress named Vicky. Not to mention the sexual relations I’m having with Jacklyn, Katie, Hanna, Jessica and Stephanie.
I knew I was, am, hetersexual but attending an all girls school and the lack of boys in my neighborhood made my attraction to males solely theoretical. Meanwhile Nicole ensured my pretend lesbian sexuality was heavy in practical experience. So much so that I’m able to appreciate the beauty and allure of the female body, creating a replacement Alice, a sexual creature that now accepted these desires as her own. Part of me knew this was dangerous and wrong yet it still replaced my thoughts and desires. For an allegedly straight woman I now became aroused from watching the sway of a woman’s ass and continually caught myself looking lustfully at their breasts. But my reset back to normal would have to wait until the end of summer.
Freed from the restrictions of school my mistress wanted yet another level of domination, 24/7 control. Nicole had informed me during prom that she convinced her parents to allow her to move into the pool house and somehow convinced my parents to allow me to move in with her.
Nicole’s parents were far wealthier than mine, living in what could only be described as a French colonial mansion filled with priceless treasures, I know as I cleaned the house once per week dressed in one of my many maid uniforms. With Phoenix being in the middle of the desert their backyard was an oasis made for relaxing and entertainment with a large stone porch leading to a luxurious swimming pool. On the opposite side was the pool house, designed as a smaller version of the main house; it was two stories and rectangular in shape set back from the pool with a pergola over the stone patio. Each floor was divided into three squares. On the first floor, two sets french doors on the end squares opened to a media room and a den. The middle square consisted of a hallway/ galley kitchen along the front connecting the two rooms, a bathroom and staircase leading to the second floor. The back section of the square being closets for the two rooms.
Nicole kept this floor mainly as it was. The media room still included the original plush leather furniture, a fully stocked bar and a big screen TV, with the many porn videos Nicole shot of me. But now the walls were adorned with some of the more ‘restrained’ photos Nicole had taken. Behind the bar was a pair of pictures of me posing in a playboy bunny costume as well as a Las Vegas showgirl outfit similar to the one Grace wore in her show. The TV wall was adorned with photos of me wearing the bahis firmaları Ariel peasant dress from the party where I met Annette; my Ariel inspired pink prom dress, taken without a flash so my legs were not exposed, as well as the tinkerbell inspired costume I wore on new years eve. The wall was capped off with a photo of myself and Kathy posing in the pro cheer uniforms we wore for the big game when I was raffled off to Trish. On the wall opposite the french doors was a large photo of me dressed in a slave Leia bikini, my chain leash securing me to a bed. The photo looked across the room at the magazine ad of me wearing a latex dress and holding the horse wipe I gifted Nicole for Christmass.
The den was furnished with similar furniture, a sofa, loveseat, recliner, coffee table, desk and bookshelves, but was given a bit of a mariners theme. Like the media room the walls were decorated with photos of me. The official prom photos of Nicole and I along with our King and Queen sashes were displayed like trophies while the other photos kept with the aquatic theme. Photos of me topless in the ocean and the leaf hula dress that Clare took when we were in Hawaii as well as the Luau photo of Maya and I and a large photo of me in the mermaid tail and bikini top posing with the ocean behind me. However the main draw and only real change Nicole made was an aquarium, eight feet long, against the back wall looking out to the pool. Being such a large tank it contained very few fish; two eels, a red crab and a yellow and blue angelfish. The reason was the tank contained a secret, second tank in the middle that was kept empty. Nicole loved to lock me in my underwater cell while wearing the mermaid costume surrounded by my aquidic friends and two eel jailors.
The second floor became Nicole’s private sanctuary and my perverted keep. This feeling was heightened by the keypad style locks Nicole installed. Now Nicole was the only person who could unlock the doors at the top and bottom of the stairs as well as the two rooms.
As you ascended the staircase the photos become more racey, signaling the change from the more mainstream living space to Nicole’s perverted fantasy. Pictures of me in various sexed up versions of my school uniform, Jessica’s two cheer uniforms as well as a photo of me in Clare’s daughters cheer uniform. The opposite wall was covered in photos of me wearing the bridal lingerie I wore when Nicole took my virginity, me naked holding open my coat at the movies when Nicole and I first started dating, me sitting naked in the restaurant with Nicole on Valentines day, me walking the streets on spring break wearing a body paint bikini, me kissing the statue of Venus, as well as me kissing Clare in Jessica’s cheer uniform in Vegas. The upstairs hallway was decorated with a copy of the photo of my face just after an orgasim, a copy of the one that hung in the beauty salon where Nicole took me to get my hair and makeup done.
To the right was Nicole’s bed chamber. The queen size iron bed and classical french furniture conferred a sense of normalcy in contrast to the mirror above the bed, the stripper pole and the many erotic photographs decorating the room. Photos of me kissing Holly when she was in her sister’s wedding dress, of me wearing the borrowed wedding dress and posing with Jessica at Nicole’s prom, the photo of me posing with my prom court, Sally plainly visible under my dress orally pleasuring me. And above the bed a large picture of April and me in black lingerie laying on red satin sheets engaged in a passionate kiss. But that was not the worst. That honor went to the trophy wall opposite the bed. Nicole adorned it with portraits of the many women I had been intimate with. But these were not photos of their faces but close ups of their bodies. Photos of Kathy, Hannah, Jessica, Tamara, and Veronica in their cheer briefs, the portrait of Hannah and Jessica posing together, while the photo of Stephanie, the final cheerleader, was of her bra covered breasts. The wall also included Annette in the yellow latex panties she wore when we first met. Lisa, Annette’s secretary, in her chastity belt. Trish and Grace from Vegas, Clare, from Hawaii, in her bikini bottoms. Vicky in her hooter shorts, madam X in black lingerie and many many more. All reminders of the women I pleasured and the attributes I worshiped.
I resided behind the final security door in the room I affectionately called my dungeon. As far as prisons go, mine was tastefully done. The walls were adorned with the BDSM implements Nicole used on me and photos of me restrained by them. The bridal lingerie I wore when I first had sex was no longer hidden in a box but proudly displayed on a dress maker’s dummy. The necklace holding my virgin blood hung around its headless neck. Around the perimeter of the room were various bondage fixtures; a saint andrew’s cross, a puppy cage, a bondage horse, a queening chair and a spanking machine and my most hated restraint, the one bar prison. The kaçak iddaa device consisted of a large metal plate and an adjustable pole rising from its center with a phallus at the top. Its design was fiendishly simple. A woman would stand above the pole, in a pair of high heels so her feet would be fully extended. The pole would be raised until the phallus impaled the woman. Once locked in place the captive had no choice but to remain standing, fixed in place by her sex. Nicole loved to dress me in my Ariel prom dress, as it completely concealed my bondage, while I stood demerly by the window overlooking the pool and Nicole’s bedroom window. I spent several a night looking out of the darkened room as Nicole spent the evening with other women in her old bedroom.
However the centerpiece of the room was the four foot diameter six leg coffee table with what could only be described as a giant bird cage affixed to the top. Gold plated and rising five feet it had become my gilded cage. Most nights Nicole would secure me in my enclosure locked away safely for the night like a prized pet until it was wanted by its owner.
As I heard Nicole working the security code I quickly assumed my kneeling position, legs folded with my knees together and my heels under my ass. My back straight, aided by the underbust corset.
“Good morning puppet,” chirped Nicole as her bare feet padded into my cell. “I cannot tell you how much I enjoy seeing you each morning.”
“As I enjoy seeing you mistress,” I responded as I watched Nicole approach my cage, her body cloaked in a deep red satin chemise. The plunging neckline drew my eyes to the bare skin exposed by the black lace just above her nipples, their shape pressed into the clingy material. In fact her whole body was on display as the chemise hugged her contours perfectly ending high on her thigh with a ribbon of black lace tempting to reveal if she was wearing panties or not.
“I hope your new accommodations aren’t too uncomfortable,” purred Nicole as she grasped one of the bars of my cage.
“No mistress the … bed is fine,” I responded, not wanting to call my ‘accommodation’ a cage.
“Good,” smiled Nicole as she reached between the bars and gently stroked my hair. Her smile exposed her perfectly white teeth. Even just waking up Nicole looked like a goddess. Her dark wavy hair and makeup free face showed her natural beauty.
I closed my eyes as I enjoyed her caress like some pet as my brain released a burst of endorphins. Not wanting to deal with being the sex slave to another woman I accepted the submissive/obedient role. Nicole was my mistress and as such, was responsible for my actions. I was not a lesbian but her slave thus allowing me to escape the guilt and the stigma of being in a lesbian relationship.
Pulling her hand back Nicole removed the key that hung around her neck and unlocked the door allowing me to crawl out of my lair. Standing before her with my hands clasped behind my back Nicole once again caressed my hair before sliding to the nap of my neck and pulling me in for a kiss. “Lets begin, my puppet, ” whispered Nicole as she placed her hands on my shoulders and pushed. “I have a lot planned for today.”
I knew what she wanted as she demanded it every morning. The requirement was now part of my conditioning. Just like people developed a precondition for coffee I was developing an urge to perform oral on a woman, like an integral part of my morning routine my body automatically expected it. Each morning I woke up with a craving for pussy and like a loyal pet, the sight of my mistress heightened my desire.
The smell of her sex filled my nose as I droped to my knees releasing endorphins just like the smell of coffee to a caffeine addict. As if I was sitting down to breakfast I reached out and slid my hands around her hips pulling the hem of her chemise. Unsurprisingly, she is not wearing panties, just her magnificent pussy already moist and open. Like an attentive lover I knew Nicole’s desires, having performed oral on her enough times to understand what her body liked. For this morning ritual Nicole did not want to be made love to, she wanted to get off.
Nicole anchored her fingers in my hair and pulled my face towards her thighs, spread wide in anticipation of my performance. I skipped the foreplay and pulled her lips apart running my tongue along her open passage scoping up her secretions like some cat drinking milk. As her juices flowed I kept licking, her morning lubricant different then the rest of the day, more tangy as if it marinated overnight. With the skill and dedication I used to employ in ballet my tongue performed its carefully choreographed routine as I continued to lick her slit and dance with her clit before driving my tongue deep into her channel. A stream of cum my reward for expertly getting her off.
“Very good puppet,” breathed Nicole as she stroked my hair. “Now it is your turn for a little fun.”
Her order sent a shiver through kaçak bahis my body. Ever since my weekend in Vegas, Nicole had been cultivating my spanking fetish. Melding the sting of the paddle to pleasure in my sex. Making my butt as much of an erogenous zone as my nipples. Making it so I became aroused just from a hand caressing my ass and a sharp spanking as pleasurable as a thrust into my sex.
The machine was basically two components. The spanking machine; which looked like a round cylinder with a rotating top and a connector that allowed different implements to be attached. The machine could then be programmed to rotate back varying distances and swing with the selected force. The second part was a bondage bench with five padded sections. Two in parallel in the back for me to kneel on. Nicole would then fasten the straps over my ankles and just below my knees. The third started at the height of my hips and allowed me to bend forward on a downward sloping bench. Two additional straps secured me at the small of my waist and just below my shoulder blades. The last two pads were set in parallel at the front of the bench and allowed my arms to be secured at my elbows and wrists. Once attached I was held firmly in the doggie position. Just as my body had been conditioned to become aroused from kissing other women it now associated the spanking machine with sexual pleasure.
“You have such a lovely spankable ass,” purred Nicole as she caressed my exposed cheeks, sending a spark to my pussy.
“Today we are going to run this experiment without any vagional stimulation and see if your mistress can still make you cum,” continued Nicole as she knelt beside me and attached a nipple clamp with a small weight to each breast.
I let out a small gasp and pulled at the restraints. The bindings held and only resulted in making the weights sway, further teasing my body.
“Let us begin,” announced Nicole as I heard the electric motor come to life and the quick swish of the strap. The wide leather belt delivered a loud but not painful slap that quickly converted to a pleasurable sensation. The sharp gasp escaping my lips turned into a deep lustful moan before it was complete. As the mechanical arm drew back I found myself awaiting the next hit. While I did not want to orgasim from a machine it was better than orgasiming from the efforts of another woman. The spanking machine was no different than a dildo and thus I rationalised this was no different than masterbating, something completely acceptable for a hetersexual woman.
As the machine continued its mechanical blows I continued to moan as I tried to move my hips in an attempt to stimulate my clitoris. I was so close and mentally worked to strengthen the connections that would allow me to orgasim while Nicole’s finger kept caressing my lower back along the bottom of my corset and just above the lettering of my ‘lesbian sex slave’ tattoo.
“You’re close puppet,” whispered Nicole as she leaned in. Her hair tickling the side of my face.
“Yes,” I hissed in reply hoping she would help bring me over the edge.
“I can see it in your body, feel it in your quivering mussels and hear it in your moans,” continued Nicole. “It wants to cum. It wants to make the connection.” With that Nicole stopped the machine and caressed my now warm ass. The contact made me moan in pleasure. Sliding her hand between my ass cheeks I relaxed my muscles and was rewarded with her nail scraping my rose bud. Woman or not, I found myself mentally willing her finger lower as simple contact with my vagina would be enough to trigger an orgasim.
“You want me to bring you off, don’t you puppet,” teased Nicole.
“Yes mistress,” I begged. “Please let me cum.”
With that she quickly withdrew her hand and I heard the swoosh of the strap and felt contact with my ass. The brief respite and caress from my mistress was enough to allow the strap to bring me over the edge. The rapid spanks were like thrusts into my channel causing little orgasmic spasms as I came from the spankings.
My brain had made the connection, and what was seen by young girls as a punishment had become a form of sexal play to me. Yet instead of satisfying my lust the spanking induced orgasims kept me on edge as my pussy felt deceived and wanting satisfaction.
“Good girl,” purred Nicole as she stroked my hair. I knew you could do it. Now let’s get you out of this machine and showered. We have a lot to do today.
“Yes mistress,” I replied hoping Nicole would allow me to pleasure her in the shower so I can earn another orgasim.
Nicole dressed in a pair of shorts and a form fitting t-shirt but left me naked. As I prepared breakfast I watched as Nicole placed a long curved chrome pipe and ring about a foot in diameter on the patio. As I set the table I let out groan as I saw Nicole return carrying a large amount of red rope, meaning we were going to have a busy day of bondage.
After breakfast Nicole had me stand in the media room as she wove a rope bikini. The rope bando top had a long length hanging from the back and the rope bikini bottoms had a similar length at the small of my back and a small rope loop at the base of my crotch.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32