by Argus, JJ
I felt even more embarrassment than before, yet did not dare to question her. I continued to repeat the words she had ordered me to speak as the razor swept along my lower abdomen, then beneath my spread legs to shave my mound itself. I moaned and halted my words as her fingers pushed into my opening and gripped my labia, stretching it as she brought the razor along its edge.
"Continue," she ordered.
"I am a slave," I whispered.
She used a wet towel to clean off the remains of the soap or cream, and looking down, I saw to my amazement, that she had removed every trace of my pubic hair. I could not fathom the reasoning behind her actions, but my amazement was merely a background to the new sense of humiliation I felt. My sex had never been so open bare and visible, not since I was a young girl, and never before another person.
Even as I gaped at it my words halted, and I my head was rocked back by a slap which stunned me.
"I did not say you could stop speaking," she said in a soft, chiding voice. "Continue."
I stared at her in shock, and another slap sent my head jerking back, my hair flying around me.
"Continue. You must learn to quickly obey orders you are given, slave."
"I... but you..."
Another slap struck me, hitting me across the right cheek and flinging my head to my left. A moment later her other hand struck the left cheek and sent my head flying to the right. A third blow followed, and my jaw hung slack as she halted to grip my hair and hold my face steady.
"You must obey orders when they are given. You must always obey," she said, emphasising the last word.
She brought her face in close to mine, calm but stern. I was gasping and panting, my eyes watering, my cheeks aflame.
"Obey," she whispered, raising her eyebrows. "Say it."
"Obey."
"O-o-obey," I panted.
"Again."
'O-obey."
"Again."
"Obey."
"What must you do?"
"I... must obey," I gulped.
"Again."
"I must... obey."
She released my hair and eased her face back slightly.
"Why must you obey?"
"I... because I am a slave," I whispered.
She smiled benignly, then leaned in to kiss me gently. Her arms slid around my body and caressed me as once again her tongue pushed into my mouth. I felt a sense of gratification this time, however, relief at having pleased her, at having given the proper response. I was still somewhat dazed from the hard slaps, and the memory of the sharp pain they had brought. I was desperate to please her that I receive no more such chastisements.
She pulled back, her hands sliding downward to cup and knead my breasts.
"Disobedience brings punishment, yet obedience can bring pleasure," she said. "Why must you obey?"
"Because I am a slave," I said.
"And because you are a slave what must you do?"
"I must obey."
"Repeat them until I tell you to stop."
And so I did. "I am a slave. I must obey," I said, as she eased down onto her knees before me and examined my naked sex.
"I am a slave. I must obey," I repeated as her fingers moved softly against my sensitive flesh.
I felt her fingers gently fold back the lips of my sex, and new heat came to my face as I continued my soft mantra. Her fingers stroked along my inner lips, and my mind knew intense embarrassment and shock, yet I continued speaking.
"I am a s...oh!"
Her finger had sought out that most intimate part of my body, that most sensitive slip of flesh, and my voice quavered as I resumed my chant.
"I am a slave. I must obey."
Her fingers began to caress my clitoris, moving in different directions. One long finger penetrated my body then, pushing upwards into my vagina, easing against my hymen and then drawing back to twist about within me. I stared down in amazement and fear and embarrassment, continuing to speak the words which I could no longer hear.
And then her lips pushed forward against my vulnerable opening, and I saw her soft pink tongue come out and - .
"Oh!"
I had never felt anything like it, and could hardly credit I was seeing and feeling it now.
"Continue," she ordered.
"I am a slave," I panted. "I must obey."
Her tongue began to move along my inner lips, then circled my small hole before actually pushing inside. I could feel her mouth against me there as that amazing tongue flicked about within my body, deeper than I would have believed possible. My entire body was flooded with shock and alarm, and yet no pain followed. And as the shock and alarm faded I could feel the strangely pleasurable sensation of her soft, pumping tongue and the warmth of her skin against mine.
The pleasure grew rapidly, and nothing I could do seemed to hinder its strength. I could feel the flickering sexual electricity moving along my skin, through my nerves and veins and sinews as I hung helpless before her, and though I could not understand her behaviour my body did not seem to care. Amid the terrible discomfort it had felt over so many hours this hot, wonderful pleasure was a desperately needed distraction, and even were it not some dark part of me revelled in the sensations of lewd stimulation.
And then her attention moved upwards and I felt her lips over my clitoris. I lost all ability to speak then as her lips joined together and she began to gently suckle and lick. My body began to tremble and strain, to writhe in the bonds holding it as her tongue lapped more and more strongly against my clitoris. At first the sensations were simply too strong, and I was overwhelmed, then as my body adjusted the shocking pleasure cut through my body and mind like a maelstrom and I could only gurgle and moan in animalistic response.
I was on the edge of orgasm, of a powerful climax, my hips rolling and grinding against her. And then she stopped and moved away, getting to her feet and examining me as I hung there.
My movements eased, become twitches and spasms, and she raised my chin with her fingers.
"Do you see why I know you are a slut? Do you see why your place in life will be as a slave? You have a whore's body, and a whore's mind."
I could not deny it, even to myself. I was deeply shamed by my own response, and my sense of morality and proprieties were revolted by the very idea of a woman putting her mouth on another's sex. Oh yes, I know it was done with boys, but this was so very different! The very idea was so foreign to me I could hardly accept it had happened.
And yet even amidst the shame I felt a deep yearning to feel her mouth against me once again.
"Did I tell you to stop speaking?" she asked patiently.
"N-no, mistress," I replied, voice filling with anxiety.
It was well placed, and I cringed as her open hand drew back to strike me, turning my head and closing my eyes as she swung.
Yet the blow did not land against my face. Instead I felt the sharp impact against the side of my left breast. I cried out in shock, my eyes snapping open, and then the sharp dagger of pain swept through me and my voice raised higher still.
"You must realize that whenever you fail to obey an order you will be punished," she said.
And with that she calmly struck my breast again, and then a third time. Each blow set it to jiggling and bouncing wildly, the heat of pain pushing aside the former glow of pleasure, and turning the pale skin an angry pink.
Again, amidst the pain, I felt a sense of shock and outrage that anyone would punish a woman in such a manner. It was yet another concept entirely foreign to my previous experience, or even imagination.
"As a slave, proper behaviour will be expected of you at all times," the woman said. "You will keep your eyes down, and respond to each command given you. Let me hear you say `thank you mistress'."
I stared at her in confusion and she smiled for a moment and then slapped my breast again so that I cried out in pain.
"When you are given an instruction you are to obey it without delay," she said in a calm voice. "Now let us
try again. Thank me."
"Th-thank you, Mistress," I gasped.
"Thank you for punishing me mistress."
"Tha...thank you, Mistress, for punishing me," I gulped, voice shaking.
"You must understand that you are no longer a person. You are not even a human being. You are little more than an animal. You will do as you are told and like it, or you will be punished. Do you understand?"
I nodded mutely and let my head roll as her hand cracked against my cheek.
"You will respond verbally," she said. "Do you understand?"
'Y-yes, M-mistress," I whimpered, my eyes watering now as her violence began to overwhelm my ability to cope.
"Will you be a good little slave?"
"Y-yes, Mistress."
"Would you like to be let down?"
"Yes, mistress!"
Again I was slapped, tasting blood in my mouth as my head was thrown back. I began to cry now, in my misery and helplessness, feeling desperately hard done by and in distress at the unfairness of it all.
"Your wishes are not important, slave. Nothing you want is important. Only what pleases me is important. You will be let down if it pleases me, and only if it pleases me. Do you understand?"
"Yes, M-m-mistress," I sobbed, voice breaking.
"Your tears will avail you nothing here, slave," she said. "No one cares how a slave is feeling. No one cares if she is unhappy. Your body is all we need."
She seized my hair in both hands then, jerking my head back as she crushed her lips against mine. Startled, I could only tremble as her tongue pushed deep into my mouth and her mouth ravished mine. Her fingers pulled and twisted at my long hair heedless of my pain, and I whimpered softly into her mouth.
She drew back, looking smug and self satisfied, and I felt a surge of hate and envy for her.
"What are you?" she demanded.
"A-A slave," I gulped, sniffling.
"And what must a slave do?"
"Obey," I said in misery.
She leaned in again. "Kiss me," she ordered.
I stared her, aghast for some reason, then the need to avoid further pain sent my lips forward and I kissed her awkwardly.
She laughed in much amusement.
"That was not a kiss," she said. "Kiss me as you would your boyfriend, your lover, as you would the man you wished to give your virginity to."
She pressed her lips forward again and, cringing inwardly, I did my best to kiss her, sliding my lips against her own and easing my tongue through them. Her tongue rose to respond and I felt a mild wave of pleasure and relief as she kissed back. She held the kiss for long, long seconds, and I, of course, was too fearful to draw back before her.
Then she did withdraw and I drew in a deep breath.
"Now then, do you want to be let down?" she asked.
This was a question I dared not answer at first, but then realized I would be struck if I did not. I arrived at the answer just as her hand rose to deliver another blow.
"If it pleases you, Mistress!"
She smiled and stroked my hair.
"Good girl," she said.
I felt great relief at having satisfied her.
She released the chains from my ankle restraints and I was able to bring my feet together and reach the floor with my toes. This released the strain from my arms, wrists and shoulders, and nearly made me swoon with relief. She released the chains from my wrist restraints then, and let me sag to my knees.
"Kneel there for a moment."
She moved to a corner cabinet and drew forth a length of narrow chain and a long slender flexible looking crop. She returned to me and showed me the loop in the chain, then slipped my head through it. It was a choke-chain, of the kind used with large dogs to keep them from straining at the leash.
"Now, onto all fours. At once," she said briskly.
I fell forward, pulled by the chain, and knelt on hands and knees.
"This is one of the most natural positions for a slave," she said, observing me from above. "She demonstrates her submission and positions herself to please from either end. She can use her mouth or be mounted from behind."
She tapped my bare mons with the crop and I winced and jerked slightly.
"Raise your bottom and spread your legs apart," she ordered.
Cringing mentally, I obeyed, and at a small snap of the crop, raised my bottom still further, opening myself like a dog to be mounted.
"You will be taken in this position many times," she said.
As she spoke she let the crop slide between the lips of my sex and then stroke gently up and down.
"And you will learn to love it. Of that I have no doubt. A bitch in heat is your natural mental disposition."
She drew the crop back and tugged lightly on the chain.
"You will crawl at my heels like a good dog. You will keep your head at my heels, no further back, no further forward. Do you understand?"
She was, I thought frantically, mad. That was all there was to it.
"Yes, Miss," I gulped.
I cried out as the crop whipped down against my buttocks, but the cry was choked off as she reached down and yanked on my hair.
"Mistress," she corrected.
“M-Mistress,” I moaned in a shaky voice.
"Get on all fours. At once."
My hesitation earned another blow from the crop, and again I cried out, rubbing at my inner thigh.
"On all fours, slave!" her voice snapped.
I moaned and sobbed, then rolled onto my belly and weakly pushed myself to all fours.
"You will have to be punished for your disobedience," she said. "A slave must be disciplined, and it is quite apparent you lack that gift. You will place your face on the floor and spread your arms out straight to either side. Keep your bottom raised high, but bring your knees together."
Still panting and sobbing, I obeyed, my breasts pillowing against the cold, gritty stone as I positioned myself to her satisfaction.
"You will remain in this position. Is that clear?" Her voice sharpened and chilled.
"Y-yes, mistress," I replied in a frightened sob
For I was frightened. Violence was entirely foreign to me, and never before in my life had anyone treated me with such cold brutality. I was terribly afraid she would not hesitate to choke the life out of me if I behaved poorly enough.
"If you move, your punishment will be doubled," she warned.
With that she moved behind me, and I realized her intent. I moaned softly and felt the tears fill my eyes once more at the unfairness of it all.
Then the crop hissed through the air and struck my upraised bottom. The weight of the blow was not heavy, yet an instant later a jagged dagger of pain ripped through me and I cried out. I could feel my buttocks glowing with heat where she had struck even as that terrible sudden pain faded from my mind. Another blow landed, and another, and I burst into tears as the pain mounted. Yet I dared not move.
I knelt, trembling and moaning, crying out through my tears as the crop landed with short, careful, measured strokes. Almost I broke my position. Only the certainty that the pain given me would be worse if I did held me in place.
Finally the blows stopped, and I shuddered in relief, my bottom on fire with pain by then and my eyes blurry with tears.
"Thank me for punishing you," she ordered primly.
"Th-thank y-you for...for pu-pun-punishing me, M-mistress," I stuttered.
"Back on all fours. At once."
I moaned and, still trembling, pushed myself upwards.
"Good slave," she said. “Now crawl."
She began to walk, and I followed unsteadily, eyes blinking rapidly, panting very much like an overheated dog. She led me along the wall, then into the corner for a turn, along the next wall, then the third. We walked around the room, or rather, I crawled along at her heels. My breasts felt heavy and cold as they dangled below me, and my knees ached as they met the hard stone. She led me for several circuits around the room, tapping at my buttocks w
henever I was too slow, tugging on the choke chain if I was too fast.
Finally she led me into the centre and paused.
"I want you to spread your legs more and raise your bottom invitingly. Pretend there's a man behind and you wish to be mounted."
I obeyed miserably, feeling broken.
"You are a slut, girl. You have a slut's body, and we shall soon free a slut's mind to become what it desires."
"Do you see these boots, slut?"
I looked at the black boots she wore and almost nodded.
"Yes, Mistress," I said, remembering in time.
"They're dirty. I want them cleaned."
"Yes, Mistress," I said, confused.
"With your tongue, slave," she said. "Immediately."
I was startled and even through my pain indignant. A quick slash across my back woke me from that and I bent, moaning at the pain and swiping my tongue across the dusty top of her boot. Tears filled my eyes again and I silently wailed at such things being done to me. It was so unfair!
I tasted the grit of dust and sand as my tongue licked at the woman's boot. She snapped the crop down whenever I slowed, forcing me to slide my tongue all around the sides, and then even down by the floor. She raised one foot on its spiked heel then and directed my attention to the bottom. I blinked my eyes dazedly, but obeyed, sliding my tongue, now dry and tasting of dirt, along the underside of her boot as she looked down from above.
"The duty of a slave is to please her master in any way her master wishes," she said. "You are a slave, and you had best start learning how to please those who own you."
I did not believe I was a slave, but rather, that she was mad. Yet the pain was very real, and I continued to lick even as my tongue grew numb. And as I did so I began to feel a nasty, wicked heat. The situation, you see, was so preposterous, so wildly divergent from every experience I had ever had or anything I had ever really imagined, that it felt almost like a dream. Yet it was a wicked, wanton dream, where I was a slave girl, a creature of sex and sexuality, tormented and abused because of her beauty. I had not previously noted any great streak of masochism within me, but as I knelt there being so cruelly treated, something deep within me responded, further shaming me.