---------- Forwarded message ----------
Date: Sun, 10 Nov 1996 03:55:26 GMT
From: "Lisa J. Weston" <ljweston@cris.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: First try part II

DISCLAIMER

READ BEFORE PROCEEDING


This story contains graphical descriptions of consensual 
sex.  It is graphic (I hope) and not for viewing by anyone 
other than adults.  If sex offends you, or if physical 
restraint offends you, or if sex between consenting women 
offends you, or if dominance and submission offends you, 
then don’t read this.







If you have comments on this - I will probably listen.  If 
you’re offended - then why did you read after I warned you?  
Anyway - write to me with your thoughts.  Thank you.




Part II.

September 12, 1996:
Then one night when I got home from school I walked into the 
kitchen - as I always do.  On the counter I saw my red yarn 
wrist band, and one a little longer.  It was obvious where 
this was supposed to be worn.

Instantly I was aroused.  I knew what Amy wanted.  I was 
supposed to take my clothes off, right here, and put these 
on.

Before this had started, Amy and I had made love.  And 
before that she had seen me naked on several occasions.  But 
I had never, in my life, felt as naked as I felt with this 
new twist on our relationship.  I felt self-conscious in my 
nakedness, and that feeling was intensely arousing.

I stripped right there leaving my clothes and back pack on 
the floor.  I put the band around my wrist, and then I took 
the second one and put it around my neck.  It fit perfectly, 
and, if it was possible, it made me feel even more naked 
than I had moments before.

Amy had never used this approach before, and deep within I 
knew that tonight was a turning point.  I hesitated only a 
moment before I walked into the family room.

Amy was sitting in her usual spot on the couch.  She was in 
her robe and was also wearing socks.  She looked at me and 
told me to sit down - on the floor in front of her.  She 
told me to take her socks off.  She knew my fetish.  And I 
reached up and slowly pulled each sock off, baring her feet.

She told me to pleasure her feet.  And I did.  I could have 
done that for hours for her.  Rubbing her bare feet, running 
my fingers between her toes, over her heel, her ankles, up 
her calves.

I was aching to feel my own touch, and I slowly moved one 
hand away from Amy’s feet towards my need.  She instantly 
told me “no”, so I returned to what I was doing.  As much as 
I enjoyed doing this, I could tell that she, too, enjoyed 
this touch.

I bent and I kissed each of her toes.  The tops, the 
bottoms.  I kissed her sole, her instep, her heel.  I ran my 
lips over every square inch of her feet.  They were sweet, 
fresh, like Shawn’s always were.

Even with what I was doing I could begin to make out the 
faint but familiar smell of my own arousal.  Or was it hers?  
Maybe it was both of us.  Hard to tell.  Her robe covered 
her completely.

Finally she spoke again.  She told me she had some new toys.  
I jerked a little.  Excitement and apprehension.  I had no 
idea what she had in store for me - or did I?

She motioned for me to come to her.  So I released her 
beautiful feet, got up on my knees, and moved right up to 
the couch.  From her robe pocket she pulled out something.  
It was an anal plug.  I had one of my own - and loved it.  
But this one was bigger.  Scary in a way.

She held it in front of me and asked me if I knew what it 
was.  I could only nod my head.

‘Where does it go?”

“Inside me.”

“Where inside you?”

“In my rear.”

She held it right in front of my mouth.

“Lick it, Lisa.  Get it very wet.”

She kind of rolled it around as she held it in front of me.  
I licked it and actually drooled on it to get it wet.  I was 
squirming, knowing where this hardness and my wetness would 
soon be nestled.

The she told me turn around and get down on my hands and 
knees.  So I turned, already on my knees, and dropped to my 
hands.  My backside was to her, and I became yet more aware 
of my nakedness as my privacy was now displayed before her.

Then I felt her hands on my skin.  My cheeks.  Damn they 
felt good.  Her fingers were soft, cool.  And I could feel 
everything as she spread me open, exposing my most private 
spot.  And she was slow, deliberate.  She held my cheeks far 
apart for what seemed a small eternity.  And I could feel 
her eyes staring at me - at my special privacy.

And then I felt it.  She had released one side, and I felt 
the hardness of what I had just tasted.  She pressed the tip 
against my opening.  I couldn’t help it.   I pushed back 
against her.  She commented on my eagerness.

“In the future, Lisa, I will have you begging for this.  
Now put it in.”

She was going to make me insert it myself - while she 
watched!

I took it from her, holding myself up on one arm.  I reached 
back.  I could feel her watching me, and I touched the hard 
plastic to myself.  It felt so good.  How often had I 
touched myself there, or inserted my own toys there, or even 
more.  But this one was bigger.  Not a lot, but bigger than 
mine.  And mine made me feel so full.

I pressed, but it didn’t want to seem to go.  I wiggled it 
around, but no go.  I had to bring it around, drool heavily 
on my finger, and spread it around the tip - all while Amy 
watched me.

I had no clue why I was doing this.  I had never done this 
in front of anyone - ever.  This particular little pass time 
was a secret even from Shawn.  She knew I was anal, but I 
never mentioned I had toys for the purpose.

When I had it sufficiently wet, I brought it back behind me, 
and the tip slid in.  It was so intense to feel the 
penetration - with Amy seeing me.  My eyes closed, and I 
slowly twisted it and pushed it back and forth, going deeper 
each time.

It seemed like I couldn’t get it all the way in.  I was 
stretched so far it almost hurt.  And then Amy told me to 
keep going.  I worked it some more.  Twisted it, pulled it 
out, pushed it in.  I kept that up, and then finally I felt 
it slip, and I closed around the tapered base.  It was in.

I couldn’t help it, I moaned out loud when it hit home.  My 
hand fell to the floor to help support me, and I hung my 
head loosely.  Amy told me I was a good girl - and to stay 
put.

She walked around in front of me.  Her bare feet inches 
below my face.  Her robe still on.  She squatted down and 
lifted my chin with her finger.

“Lisa, tell me.”

And that’s all she said.

“Tell you what,” I asked.

“No, Lisa.  You don’t ask questions.  You do as I tell you.  
Now - tell me.”

I knew.  Somewhere in here I had moved into a totally lust 
crazed state.  She owned me.  I had known that from the 
first time she made me masturbate for her.  From that moment 
I had been waiting for this one.  I wasn’t sure if she knew 
it or not, but there was nothing I wouldn’t do for her.  I 
was truly hers - in any way she wanted.

But I wanted to be sure - sure that she wanted the same 
thing.  Was this as new to her as it was to me?

“Anything”.  I said.  “Whatever you want from me.”

“I want a lot, Lisa.  And you’re going to give it to me.”

And these words came out automatically, “I know.”

“Follow me, like you are now.”

And she walked around the room.  The carpet was hot on my 
knees and toes as they dragged.  The plug inside me was 
causing an unbelievable pressure, and my crotch was already 
screaming for touch and release.

Amy knew that, and she stopped and again lifted my chin.  
“You will not touch yourself, Lisa.  Ever - unless I tell 
you to.  Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I said.

“And we’ll fix that in a little while.”

Then she walked some more.  What would she fix?  I followed 
her and followed her.  With every movement of my legs, the 
plug reminded me of my need.  I was so full.  Bigger than 
ever before, and the feeling was exquisite.

We stopped.

“Lisa, what will you do for me?”

“Anything,” I said.

“Lisa, do you know what you’re saying?  I have a very vivid 
imagination, very dark sometimes.  And I suspect some things 
about you.  I am very observant.”

That almost sent me over the edge.  I couldn’t believe what 
was happening.  Could she really know?

“Anything,” I said.

“Good.  And what will you let me do to you?”

“Anything,”  I said.

“Your word is ‘Chicago’, Lisa, do you understand what that 
means?”

“Yes.”

“It means we stop, Lisa.  All over.”

“I understand.”

“Good, then wait right here.”

She walked away from me.  I was still on my hands and knees.  
I looked at my sex between my legs.  I wanted to touch so 
badly, but I didn’t know where she was.  I didn’t know if 
she had left the room or not.  I could see my bare feet, my 
toes bent against the floor.  I could see my pubic hair, my 
breasts.  And I could feel the fullness in my rear, and the 
seat of it against my cheeks.

“Keep your head down, Lisa.  Do not move.”

And then I felt something move up the backs of my thighs, 
over my cheeks, and then over my back.  Then it moved all 
over again.

“I spent a lot of money on you, Lisa.  I’m going to make 
sure it was worth it.”

I didn’t know for sure what I was feeling.  It was light, 
but strong.  Soft, pliant.  And I knew she was going to hit 
me.  I had read enough, imagined enough.  It was a multi 
ended whip, and I knew that when she pulled it away from me, 
I was going to feel it in a much harsher way.  And I was 
afraid.

Then it happened.  It pulled away, and I braced myself as 
best I could, then it hit my rear.  It was sharp, very 
clear, and it hurt.  I tried to be quiet, but I couldn’t.  I 
cried out.

“Be quiet, Lisa.”

And she did it again.  I bit on my lip.  Tears formed with 
the third one.

“How do you like that, Lisa?”

I just whimpered.  I had never felt pain like this.  I had 
also never been so aroused in my life, and now she was 
hitting me.  This was no fantasy.  This was no imagination.  
I was on the floor, naked, a plug in my butt, being whipped.  
And I couldn’t deny that I liked it.  Loved it.  

She hit me again.  Slightly harder.

“Lisa.”

“Yes,” I cried.

“I want you to call me Mistress.”

“Yes, Mistress.”  I said.  And the words in my mouth brought 
fire between my legs.

Then she came around in front of me.  My cheeks were on 
fire.  Tears still in my eyes.  She moved until her feet 
were just under my face.

“Drool on my feet and toes, Lisa.”

It was hard for me to work up moisture, but I did it.  And I 
let it run from my mouth onto her feet.

“More, Lisa.”

And I did, but it was hard.  My mouth was dry from her 
whipping.  But more flowed, and I let this fall on her other 
foot.

“Lick it all off, Lisa.  Pretend it’s a man’s sperm.  I 
want to hear you slurp.”

Just the thought was enough to drive me even deeper into my 
own lust.  I bent, I loved her feet, and she loved having me 
love them.  I extended my tongue and began to lick up the 
small mess I had made.  But I savored every drop of my own 
drool as though it really were a man’s seed.

“Lisa, look up here.”

I did.  She was there, in her robe, beautiful.

“You do that very well.  Would you like it to be a man’s 
sperm?”

I nodded my head.

The pain was instantaneous.  Harder than any of the blows 
she had delivered yet.  It crashed across my buttocks and my 
lower back, twice.

For the first time she was harsh, angry.  She raised her 
voice - almost yelling.

“Don’t you ever nod your head at me.  You answer me, and you 
always answer me in a complete sentence, with my name.  Do 
you understand?”

The two blows had taken my breath away, but I saw her arm 
going up again, and I wanted to avoid another one.

“Yes, Mistress.  I understand.”

“Good.  Now, I asked you if you would like that.”

“Yes, Mistress.  I would like that.”

“Like what?”

She was going to make me say even this.

“I would like to lick a man’s sperm off your bare feet, 
Mistress.”

“You will, Lisa.  Not tonight.  But you will.”

I knew I was going to orgasm without even being touched if 
this went on much longer.  This was beyond anything I had 
imagined.  The sensations, even the horrible pain, were so 
intense.  I was drifting further and further into a crazed 
state where sex was all that mattered.  I was so horny at 
this point I would have masturbated naked in the middle of 
the busiest intersection in the city.

And Amy knew it.

“Are you horny, Lisa.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“What do you want to do, Lisa.”

“I want to play with myself, Mistress.”

“No, Lisa.  You may not.”

I was still on my hands and knees.  Amy started walking 
around me again, dragging the whip around on my skin.  She 
even pulled it down across the sides and bottoms of my own 
bare feet.

Then she came around to my side and she reached the handle 
of her whip up under me against my pubic hair.  I thrust my 
hips forward.  I didn’t mean to, it just happened.  I 
desperately wanted, needed to be touched.

And the instant I moved she pulled it away and the pain hit 
again.  How she could turn it and bring it down on my 
buttocks again so fast was beyond me.

“Don’t do that again, Lisa.”

And again she moved the handle across my belly through my 
pubic hair.  Then up over my breasts.  Oh how wonderful that 
felt.  I know I whimpered when the leather touched my 
breasts and rock hard nipples.

“Kneel up straight, Lisa, and keep your hands at your 
sides.”

I did.  I straightened.  Amy had never looked so beautiful.  
Still in her robe, her feet bare, the whip in her hand.  It 
had a leather handle, flexible, yet stiff, and about six or 
eight leather thongs.

As I was kneeling there she dangled the thongs through my 
hair, over my face, and then over my breasts.  She ran them 
back and forth, and then lightening fast she struck.  This 
time it was sharp, anguishing.  I cried out again.  My 
breasts had never stung like they did now.

“Be quiet, Lisa.”

And she did it again.  I bit on my lip, afraid I would draw 
my own blood.  The tears came again.  Not crying, but my 
eyes filled.  My fingers dug into the outsides of my thighs.

“Lisa,” she said.  And then quiet.  And she began to walk 
around me again.  Slow.  Deliberate.  The leather pain 
dangling from her hand.  She ended up behind me, and stood 
there, quietly.

“Lisa, I know you love Shawn.  I know I really like my 
boyfriend.  And I know you want a man, too.  Is all of that 
right?”

“Yes.”

And then it hit again, right across my very sore buttocks.  
Hot, painful.  Unprepared I screamed out again.

“What?” she shouted at me.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Don’t forget again, Lisa.”

“I won’t forget, Mistress.”

“I know how you feel.  But I am going to take you to sexual 
places and make you feel sexual things that you have never 
even imagined.  This is just as new to me, Lisa.  But I 
like it.  And I am going to make you like it.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Lisa, how often do you masturbate?”

“At least everyday, Mistress.”

“Ever more?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Ever at work?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Where?”

“In the restroom, Mistress.”

“Anyplace else at work?”

“Yes, Mistress.  The storage locker.”

“Hmmm.  A full fledged obsessive masturbator.  Super.  We’ll 
talk about that a lot more later.  I am going to really 
enjoy this trait in you.  Down on your hands and knees 
again.”

“Yes, Mistress.”




If you have comments on this - I will probably listen.  If 
you’re offended - then why did you read after I warned you?  
Anyway - write to me with your thoughts.  Thank you.










---------- Forwarded message ----------
Date: Sun, 10 Nov 1996 03:55:55 GMT
From: "Lisa J. Weston" <ljweston@cris.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: First try Part III

DISCLAIMER

READ BEFORE PROCEEDING


This story contains graphical descriptions of consensual 
sex.  It is graphic (I hope) and not for viewing by anyone 
other than adults.  If sex offends you, or if physical 
restraint offends you, or if sex between consenting women 
offends you, or if dominance and submission offends you, 
then don’t read this.







If you have comments on this - I will probably listen.  If 
you’re offended - then why did you read after I warned you?  
Anyway - write to me with your thoughts.  Thank you.





Part III.

And then she took hold, just barely, of the yarn around my 
neck and began to lead me.  As soon as I was moving she let 
go, and then trailed the thongs across my buttocks again.  
They were so sore that even this contact was a vivid 
reminder of what she could do.

Constantly playing the leather over my backside she took me 
to her bedroom.  A candle was already burning.  She had 
really planned this, and she had counted on my response.  I 
had to give her credit.  She had read me like a book.

When we got into her room she closed the door behind us, and 
then once again started her walk around me.  This time when 
she got behind me she tapped the flat side of my plug with 
the stiffness of the whip.

I jerked.  It felt so good.  Only with nature had I ever 
felt so full as I did now, and the feeling was sensational.  
She tapped it.  Over, and over, and over.  And once more my 
body was on the very verge of climax without any direct 
stimulation.  My hips bucked involuntarily.

And as they did she reminded me once again that such 
movements were not tolerated.  This one came across the 
bottoms of my bare feet.  It burned, I howled.

“Shut up, Lisa”

And again, and again.  Tears dropped from my eyes even when 
she stopped.  I was really crying from the pain.  The 
bottoms of my feet felt like they were on fire.

“I know how much you like your feet touched, Lisa.  You 
touch them yourself.  You have a fetish for them.  I know 
that, too.  I just figured they would be a good place to 
remind you.”

“Yes, Mistress,”  I whimpered.

She walked around me a couple of more times.  My feet were 
almost as sexual to me as other more strategic parts of my 
body, and they were screaming right now.  My head hung, my 
hair almost touching the floor.  My crotch had never ached 
as much as it did now.  I never knew I could want to climax 
as badly as I did right now.

Then Amy grabbed my hair.  Not really roughly.  It didn’t 
hurt.  And she led me towards the bed.

“Up,” was all she said.

“Yes, Mistress.”

And I got up on the bed.  Not having been told, I got in the 
same position, on my hands and knees.  My feet were 
beginning to feel relief.

“Lie down, Lisa.  On your back.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

No way would I ever forget again to answer her.  And I lay 
down, my head on the pillow, my legs out straight.

“Lisa, you said you would let me do anything.  Is that 
right?”

What in the world did she have in mind?  “Yes, Mistress.”

And then she walked to the head of the bed, bent down, and 
she came back with a rope in her hand.  She took my wrist 
and tied it, and then began walking to the other side of the 
bed.

I was really frightened.  My *word* came to mind, and I was 
on the verge of saying it.  And then she was at the other 
front corner, bent down, and came back with another rope.

“You are going to beg me, Lisa.”

“Please, Mistress.”  Was all I could say.

“Please what, Lisa?”

And I broke.  “I’m scared, Mistress.”

And she looked at me.  Just stared for a moment.  “Good.  
You want out, you know how to do it.  Otherwise, be very 
clear on this.  Your body is mine.  You are my naked slut, 
Lisa.  You love it, and you know it.  The dirtier, the 
kinkier the better.  And I am going to make you get very 
dirty and very kinky for me.  And I am also going to make 
you beg.  Later, on some other nights, I will take you to 
new places.  To the dirty places you want to go, and to 
places I want to take you.  You will suck cock, you will 
fuck.  You will service me in ways you can’t even imagine.  
And I will make you do things that pale with what you have 
done alone - and I know exactly what those things are.  Like 
I said, I am very observant.  Your choice.”

And she just looked at me.  What did she mean?  What did she 
know?  I was terrified.  And yet I couldn’t deny that I was 
more aroused than I ever had been on my life.  She was about 
to tie my other hand.  At that point I would be helpless.  
She could literally torture me to death if she wanted, and I 
couldn’t stop her.  And she seemed to know all my secrets.

But at anther level I knew that she could also unleash in me 
more perverted pleasure than I had ever experienced.  And 
that won.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good.”

And she tied my other wrist.  I could move my arms a little 
but not much.  My whole body was now involved in the same 
scream for the release my crotch wanted.  My legs were 
together, and I was just starting to rub them when Amy 
slapped me across the face.

“Stop that, Lisa.  You are not going to come until I am 
ready for you to come.  Do you understand that?”  And she 
ended her question with another slap to my face.  That 
really stung.

“Yes, Mistress.”  I was starting to cry.

And then she was at the foot of the bed.  A rope came from 
the corner.  She had obviously planned all of this.  These 
ropes were apparently tied to the bed frame underneath, and 
she had them ready for me.

She took one of my feet and tied the rope around it.  I 
worried about that.  I was so hot, so turned on, that I was 
perspiring, and when that happened, I became very self 
conscious of certain body parts.  Lying here in pain, more 
sexually aroused than I ever had been, I was worried that 
she would smell my feet.

Then she moved to the last corner, and she tied my foot.  My 
legs were about three feet apart.  I could move a little.  
The ropes weren’t tight, but I could not put my legs 
together, I could not put my hands together, and I could not 
touch any part of myself.

With her fingers Amy reached up and pushed slightly on the 
plug in my rear.

I moaned.

“You like that, huh?”

I moaned.  I couldn’t help it.  I tried to answer, but I 
wasn’t fast enough.

She slapped me.  “What did you say, slut?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Yes Mistress what?”

“Yes, Mistress.  I like that.”

“You like what?”

“I like it when you play with the plug that’s in me, 
Mistress.”

“I know.  And that plug is only the beginning.”

As aroused as I was, it kept growing.  My cheeks hurt from 
her whip.  My feet still hurt, but not as much.  My face 
stung from her slap.  So often I had fantasized about being 
dominated, maybe even a little physical discipline, but this 
went far beyond any fantasy I had ever imagined. Amy had 
inflicted real pain.  I have a really high tolerance for 
pain, but she was pushing that limit and beyond.  And I was 
getting more and more turned on by the second.

Then she moved.  I saw it.  She had the whip in her hands 
again.

She stood by the side of the bed, where I could see her.  
And then as fast as lightening the whip struck against my 
feet.

I screamed.

“Shut up, Lisa.”

And she did it three more times.  I was actually crying now.  
Real tears, real sobs.  I thought about our *word*.  I was 
close.  This had to stop.  Aroused or not, she was hurting 
me.

“I’m glad we understand each other.  There’s something 
really personal to you about hurting your feet, isn’t 
there?”

“Yes, Mistress.”  I was sobbing.  Trying to stop.  Tears 
were running down my cheeks.

“I love fetishes.”

“You must have more.”

No.  Please don’t make me tell you.  I can’t.  Please.

But she spoke.

“We’ll find all of them together, Lisa.  I have a pretty 
good idea.  But we’ll find them together.  All of them, 
slut.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Then she sat down on the bed.  She ran the whip lightly over 
my chest.  From my neck to my pubic hair.  Over my breasts.  
Dragging it across my hard, sore nipples.

Slowly, around, back and forth, up and down.

It felt so good.

Then she bent and she kissed me.  She took my upper lip 
between hers for just a moment.  Then her mouth, soft, warm, 
was on mine.  Her tongue entered my mouth.  Scraped my 
teeth, and then found mine.

I moaned, whimpered.  I kissed her back.  My passion took 
over, and I kissed her hard, long, wet.  My tongue was 
frantic against hers.  I tried to reach all the way into her 
stomach.

She pulled back.  Smiled.

I wanted her so badly.

Then she stood up.  She smiled at me again and reached for 
the tie around her waist.  Never had I been so excited at 
the thought of seeing another human being without clothes as 
I was at this instant.

The tie came loose, and in one long, beautiful moment she 
let the robe fall to the floor.  She stood there.  Naked.   
Still.  Knowing full well the impact her nakedness was 
having on me.

I bucked my hips.  I stared.  I grunted as I moved.  I must 
have looked like a slut bitch in heat.  And that’s exactly 
what I was.

She climbed back on the bed, bent over me, and kissed me 
again.  I was like an animal.  I could have devoured her if 
she let me.

Then she got up.  She stood and placed one foot on each side 
of me.  I looked up at her.  She towered above me.  My eyes 
focused on her crotch.  Her pubic hair, her glorious sex, I 
could see her.  Just inches away from me.  I had to have 
her.

The she turned around.  Her backside was beautiful.  She 
lowered herself, down to her hands and knees.  Her feet 
passed my face and went back.  She looked back.

“Suck my ass, Lisa.”

And before I could answer she lowered her backside to me.  
She was clean, but the odor was distinct.  And I opened my 
mouth without reservation and went after her.  Instantly I 
pushed my tongue against her opening.

She half grunted and half cried out.  She must have liked 
it.

I worked her opening as best I could.  I was relentless with 
her.  She hissed.  I even was able to push my tongue 
slightly into her opening, and she cried out my name when I 
did.

And then all of a sudden she pushed back against me really 
hard, and her breathing gave her away.  She was orgasming.  
And I went after her mercilessly.  I licked, sucked, pushed.  
Everything I could to make this forbidden act pleasurable 
for her.

And as soon as it started, she was through.  I’ve had those.  
Build fast, come hard, over quick.  Fabulous.

And just as quickly she was turning around.  She straddled 
my face.

“Do me, Lisa”.

And she lowered to my mouth.  She was wet.  So much wetter 
than I ever get.  I could smell her arousal.  It was 
unbelievable.  She must have been building this whole time 
just like I was.

Her hands were on the tops of her thighs, I could feel her 
legs against my face, and the warmth and wetness of her sex 
was intoxicating.

I knew from experience that she liked to have her clit 
loved, and also her vagina penetrated with my tongue.  She 
slid around, thus guiding what I was doing to her.  And in 
just a couple of minutes she grabbed my hair, and I could 
feel her orgasm.

Her thighs clutched at my head.  Her hands and arms were 
rigid against me.  Her breathing came in gasps that matched 
her climax.  She tasted so strong, so alive.  And I wanted 
to feel the same thing.  I wanted to feel my own climax.  I 
was desperate to come.

And as her pleasure subsided she shifted just slightly.

“Keep doing me, Lisa.”

And I did.  I would have done that forever to her.  I could 
only imagine how good she was feeling.  And no sooner did I 
renew my efforts that she stiffened again, this time even 
harder.  And she grunted once and pushed against my eager 
mouth.  Her whole pelvis jerked, obviously in sync with her 
contractions.

I ate her relentlessly, and then she eased off my face.  I 
tried to follow her, but she smiled down at me.  When she 
was again kneeling next to me she bent and kissed me 
lightly.

‘Don’t move, Lisa.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

And then she began untying the ropes that held me.  With 
each one she reminded me to remain still.  And when the 
final one was removed she knelt next to me again.  Then she 
smiled down at me.

“Masturbate for me, Lisa.”

I needed no further encouragement.

“Yes, Mistress.”

And both hands flew to my crotch.  My finger sought its 
target, my clitoris which was aching for touch.  My other 
hand worked back up to my breasts.  I caressed each breast 
with my left hand as my finger brought me almost instantly 
to what I wanted, needed.

I whimpered as my climax approached me.  So powerful.  My 
whole body hardened just before the first spasm rocketed 
through me.  I thought my muscles would tear as they 
tightened and tightened.

And then release.  Wave after wave.  It was so strong, so 
wonderful it almost hurt.  My muscles jerked and rocked me.  
I bit my lower lip almost cutting myself.  But the feeling 
was pure ecstasy.  I had never climaxed like this.

I was a wild woman, rubbing myself like the wanton slut that 
I was at that moment.  My mind reeled with the memories of 
what I had endured to get this.  And I still loved every 
moment of it.  And I further

And as the spasms died down, a second release came on its 
heels.  This one less powerful, but more relaxing - longer, 
sweeter.  I looked up at Mistress.  At that moment I loved 
her.  And I rubbed myself through my orgasm as she watched 
me intently.

As it eased I slowly pulled my fingers from myself.

“Lick them, Lisa.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

And I needed no urging to push my wet fingers into my mouth.  
To taste myself.

She smiled at me and lay down next to me.  She stroked my 
face.

“You’ll make an excellent slave, Lisa.  Now, go to sleep.”

And then I awoke.  It was morning.  Amy was standing next to 
me, dressed.  She bent and kissed my eyelids, my ears, my 
nose, and then my mouth.  She eased her tongue between my 
lips and I took it so willingly.

“Come on, Lisa.”  And I got up, naked, and followed her.  
The plug still inside me, re-awakening all of the urgency I 
had felt the night before.  We walked together, her dressed, 
me not, into the kitchen.  She pointed at my clothes and I 
picked them up and then carried them to my room following 
her.

She kissed me again.

“See you later, Lisa.”

I smiled, kind of nodded, and answered her.  “Yes, 
Mistress.”

She smiled again.  “You’re learning.”

And then she walked away.





If you have comments on this - I will probably listen.  If 
you’re offended - then why did you read after I warned you?  
Anyway - write to me with your thoughts.  Thank you.










---------- Forwarded message ----------
Date: Sun, 10 Nov 1996 03:56:39 GMT
From: "Lisa J. Weston" <ljweston@cris.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: First Try Part IV

DISCLAIMER

READ BEFORE PROCEEDING


This story contains graphical descriptions of consensual 
sex.  It is graphic (I hope) and not for viewing by anyone 
other than adults.  If sex offends you, or if physical 
restraint offends you, or if sex between consenting women 
offends you, or if dominance and submission offends you, 
then don’t read this.







If you have comments on this - I will probably listen.  If 
you’re offended - then why did you read after I warned you?  
Anyway - write to me with your thoughts.  Thank you.






Part IV.

September 30, 1996:

It was pretty usual for Amy and I to go out to dinner 
together on Sunday evening.  Sunday was my normal day to 
spend alone doing homework, and then later she and I would 
hit the buffet together.

This Sunday appeared to be no different.  We headed out 
right after Outer Limits at 7:00.  But when we set our 
ticket down on our table, instead of heading straight for 
the food, Amy came up to me and handed me a small paper bag.

“Go into the bathroom, get completely naked, then put your 
bra, panties, and socks in this bag.  Then get dressed and 
come back out.”

We had made love several times during the past two weeks, 
but there had been no repeat of the encounter we had had two 
weeks prior.  I knew that had just changed, and I was 
immediately aroused.

“Yes, Mistress.”  And I took the bag and began walking.  
Before I had moved two steps she called me softly.

“Lisa.”

And I walked back to her.  She spoke to me so that no one 
else would hear.  “Don’t touch yourself.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I headed for the women’s room.  She had told me to get 
completely naked.  I would be standing in a stall, in a 
restroom where there could easily be other women.  To take 
off what she wanted I had no choice but to undress 
completely.  If anyone else was in there, they would know 
precisely what I was doing when they saw my jeans, panties, 
and socks come off.  My bra was no big deal - in more ways 
than one!  My sweatshirt would hide its absence.  But for 
that slight moment I would be naked, and if anyone else was 
in there, they would know I was removing clothing.

I walked in and was relieved that I was all alone.  I went 
into a stall - there were two - and undressed as rapidly as 
I could.  The floor was cool and tempting to my bare feet.  
The feeling of being naked in there was overwhelming, and it 
was all I could do to not reach between my legs and take 
advantage of the situation I had just created for myself.  
But Amy would know.

So I quickly pulled my jeans back on, put my shoes back on 
my bare feet, and then pulled my sweatshirt back over my 
head.  I stuffed my under clothing into the small bag she 
had given me and walked back to our table.

“Did you touch yourself, Lisa?”

“No, Mistress.”

“Were you completely naked, Lisa?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

And then we ate.  She was instantly back to her normal self 
as we ate and talked.  But I knew it wasn’t going to last.  
I knew that tonight I would again be her slave.  And my body 
was already aching for the experience.

The anticipation during the short drive home was almost 
killing me.  Every place her discipline had touched me last 
time was instantly awake as I remembered the sting of her 
correction.  Just as alive was the screaming arousal I had 
felt at the same time.

Amy closed and locked the front door behind us.

“Take your clothes off, Lisa.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I undressed as she watched.  Her eyes burned into my body, 
making me again feel the hopeless vulnerability of my 
nakedness in front of her.

“Put your hands behind your back, Lisa.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

And I felt the rope bind may wrists.  Not hard, not painful.  
Loose in fact.

“Wait here.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

And she walked off.  Effortlessly I could have freed myself.  
She knew that.  But she would also know I had done it.  So I 
stood there, naked, my heart pounding, my crotch burning, 
and I waited.

I must have stood there like that for about a half hour.  
When she came back  I was ready to beg for the chance to 
love her.  She was again in her robe.  Socks on her feet.  
In one hand was a leather collar.  In the other was the 
whip.

Even more than moments before my body reminded me of how 
that whip had felt.  Contrary to popular myths, pain does 
indeed bear a memory.  It hurt - almost unbearably.  But my 
arousal and pleasure had climbed just as high and just as 
quickly as the pain.  That is the memory that won.

She walked to me and slowly, deliberately moved the collar 
to my neck.  She moved behind me and fastened it, being 
careful that it was not too tight.  Then from the pocket of 
her robe, more humiliation than I ever would have imagined.  
A leash.  A dog leash.  Just as the collar was a dog’s 
collar.

She clipped the metal fastener of the leash into the collar, 
and let the leather lie against my naked body, hanging down 
over my breasts all the way to my knees.

She moved behind me and began to undo the rope on my wrists.

“What will you do for me, Lisa.”

“Anything, Mistress.”

“Lisa, what will you do for me sexually?”

“Anything, Mistress.”

“I know all about you, Lisa.”

She couldn’t.  How could she?  Please, I thought, you can’t 
know that.

“Yes, Mistress.”

Then harshly, angrily, she tugged on the leash.

“Down on your hands and knees, slut.”

It wasn’t the first time she had called me that, but I was 
finding it was exciting, intense, arousing to hear.

I wasn’t prepared for the tug against my neck.  I grunted 
and dropped instantly.  It was hard for me to speak, I 
almost choked.

“Yes, Mistress.”

Then sweetly again.  “Have you played with yourself since 
last time, Lisa?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

The pain was instant, horrific, as the whip struck against 
the bottoms of my bare feet.

“Yes, Mistress, what, slut?”

“Yes, Mistress.”  I was sobbing.  Even though I knew where 
tonight was heading, I was unprepared for the blow.  “I have 
played with myself a lot since last time.”

“How often, slut?”

“Every day, Mistress.  Sometimes more.”

“Ever at work, Lisa?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“You really like to play with yourself, don’t you, slut?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“How much do you like it?”

“I love it a lot, Mistress.”

“What do you love, slut?”

“I love to play with myself, Mistress.”

“Keep this in mind, little slut.  I am going to take 
advantage of how much you like to do that.  A lot.  You 
think you play with yourself a lot now?  Just wait, slut.”

“Yes, Mistress.”  I had to admit - that thought intrigued 
me.  Weird or not, masturbation was my absolute favorite 
sexual activity.  It had been since I was 12.  I think I 
could probably count on one hand the days I had missed since 
that age.

“Slut, for the rest of the night, you will not speak unless 
I ask you a direct question.  If I give you a command, don’t 
talk, just do it.  If I ask you a question, I demand a 
complete answer.  Do you understand me, slut slave?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Then she tugged at the leash, and we walked - well, she 
walked, I crawled - to her bedroom.  When we got there she 
stopped me in the middle of the room.  She walked around me, 
dragging the leather thongs over my body.  Through my hair, 
over my back, over my ribs, across the backs of my thighs, 
my calves, and my bare feet.

Then she moved in front of me, her feet beneath my head, her 
robe touching my hair, the whip settled softly against my 
back.

 “Take my socks off, slut.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

And before it hit I regretted speaking.  Then the pain.  The 
whip crashed across my bottom and my lower back, once, 
twice, three times.  I cried out with each blow, screamed 
almost with the last one.

Angrily, “Do you remember your word, bitch?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good.”

Again she hit me.  Gagging I cried out, tears rolling from 
my eyes.  The *word* flashed through my mind and was 
beginning to form in my mouth.

“Do you know what you did?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Take my socks off.”

Once was enough.  No answer from me this time.  Just 
obedience.  I reached for her sock and slowly pulled it down 
to her ankle.  She lifted her foot and I rolled the sock 
off.  I repeated this with her other foot, loving every 
second of this, my body crying in pain, my libido climbing 
at warp 6.

“Like last time.  Drool on my feet, slut.”

I worked up all the moisture I could.  Much more than last 
time.  I let my own saliva drip onto her feet, both of them, 
and over her toes.  I spit as fluidly and as silently as I 
could.

“Pretend it’s sperm.  Show me what you would do with sperm 
all over my feet, Lisa.  Pretend you’re licking up cum, 
Lisa.”

I actually wanted that to be the case.  Gross as it sounds, 
I wanted to be licking a man’s seed from Amy’s beautiful 
feet.  I bent, I licked, slurped, relished the imagination 
that I was cleaning semen from her.

“Lick my feet, bitch.”

And I did.  I licked her everywhere I could reach.  Her 
toes, her insteps, her ankles.

“Do you like my feet, Lisa?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“I know.  Masturbation, bare feet.  You’re a fascinating 
little slut.  And your one more really big one.  You think 
it is such a secret.  But I know, slut.  I know.”

How could she?  No way could anyone know.  My deepest, 
darkest, most disgusting and humiliating secret.  Maybe it 
was a bluff.  But maybe it wasn’t.

I continued slurping at her toes, wishing so much that I was 
cleaning a man’s ejaculate.  Actually, anything just to 
prolong the pleasure of being given access to her feet.  But 
the added pleasure her idea would bring!

And as I was doing this Amy was slowly pulling the whip 
between my cheeks and up over my bare back.  The feeling 
when the thongs actually touched my anus was so wonderful.  
And she knew very well the effect she was having on me.  For 
every time the leather touched my private spot I gasped and 
breathed in a little extra hard.

“You like being touched there.”

“Yes, Mistress.”  Oh no.  I did it again.  I answered when 
there had been no question.

And it slashed down against my butt and my back again.  I 
almost screamed into her feet.

“Keep licking my feet, bitch.”

And again, and again it struck.  Tears flowed from my eyes. 
It hurt so badly.  The pain was sharp, fast, intense.  My 
cheeks burned.

But I kept my mouth working on her feet.  She knew, as well 
as I did, that I would willingly do this to her until I 
could no longer move my mouth - regardless of what else she 
did to me.

The pain subsided.  She returned to just caressing me with 
her toy.  It moved all over my naked body.  She even let it 
dangle against my hair and face.  Then she stepped back from 
me.

“Sit back, Lisa.”

I sat back on my heels.  I licked my mouth and then wiped it 
with my hand trying to not let any moisture stay there.  I 
looked up.  Amy was smiling at me.  And she was looking at 
me.  Her eyes moving over every exposed square inch of my 
nakedness.

“Lisa.  Tell me about Shawn.”

I was almost shocked at the first words that came out of my 
mouth.

“I love her, Mistress.”

“I know you do.  I’m happy for you.”

And I almost started to speak.  But I saw Amy’s eyes narrow 
slightly just as my mouth opened, and I caught myself just 
in time.  As I relaxed, she did too.

“You enjoy men, too?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“No one else ever has to know about this, Lisa.  This is 
just between us.  Is that how you want this?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Just to be very clear, Lisa.  You are my little slut.  My 
slave.  Do you understand that, bitch?”

Every time she spoke I became more and more aroused.  My 
legs were jerking.  Imperceptibly, but they were jerking.  
Jerking with the urgency that existed between them.  I had 
always wanted this, but I never knew how much until it 
actually happened.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Your relationship with Shawn is fine.  You can have a 
boyfriend, too.  But other than that, your naked body is 
mine to do with as I want - whenever I want.  And you will 
obey me and do everything I tell you.  Is that clear?”

I could only wonder what she had in mind for me.  I craved 
this.  My whole sexual self was more alive than it ever had 
been before.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“I know your dirty secret, Lisa.  And I will make you live 
it - right in front of me.  Do you understand that, slut?”

How could she know?  No way.  But the thoughts of what I had 
done alone, and that she somehow knew, were overpowering.  
And then the threat or thought of her being witness to my 
own dark pleasures.

“Yes, Mistress.”

The leash was still on the floor, dangling from my collar.  
It touched my nipple, and the feeling was sheer delight.  I 
did indeed feel like her pet, her slave, her slut.  I was 
hers.

“Stand up, slut.”

And I did,  The leash now hung down my front, between my 
breasts.

She pointed to it.  “Hand it to me.”

I took the end of the leash and offered it my mistress.  She 
took it, held it in her hand down at her side.  There I was.  
Totally naked.  Barefoot.  My own arousal so peaked I could 
smell it.  My crotch aching for the relief of any touch.  
Connected to my beautiful robed mistress - by a collar and 
leash.

She led me around her bedroom.  We walked around and around, 
me on the leash.  Every now and then she would wiggle it, 
much as one would shake a dog’s leash.  And then she pulled 
it harshly, changing path and heading for her bed.

“Come, little fuck slut.”

“Tell me, slut, how much you like to play with yourself.  
Tell me.”  And the whip struck across my breasts and 
abdomen.

“Mistress, I love it.  I love to play with myself, 
Mistress.”

“More!” She screamed, and the whip stung me again, this time 
across the fronts of my thighs.

“I love to play with myself, Mistress.  I love to take off 
all of my clothes and play with myself.”

“Stand on the bed.”

I immediately got up there.  I stood, facing her.  My thighs 
now bore the marks of the strap.

“Hold your bare foot up here.” And she sort of pointed to a 
point in the air.  I placed one hand against the wall and 
lifted my bare foot towards her.

“Ask me to whip your foot, slave.”

I couldn’t imagine.  She was going to whip the top of my 
foot, and she was making me ask her to do it.

I started to cry, barely.

“Whip my bare foot, Mistress, please.”

And she needed no second invitation.  Now I could see the 
entire travel of the instrument.  I winced before it hit, 
and the pain was sudden, sharp, agonizing.

“Ask me again, slut.”

“Please, Mistress, do it again.”

And she did.  Then over and over.

“The other one, whore.”

I lowered my foot.  I was afraid it would be bleeding, but I 
looked.  It wasn’t.

I raised my other foot.

“Lisa!”

‘Please, Mistress.  Whip it.”

And she did.  Once, twice, a third time.  I was crying.  
This hurt so badly, and why there?

“Stand up, slut.”

I stood there, my hands back down at my sides.  The tops of 
my feet burned with her punishment.

“Look at your feet, slut.”

I looked down.  They were red.  Crimson red.  I could see 
marks, but not clearly.  And they burned.

“I like punishing your fetishes, little slave.  Now, don’t 
you dare move.”





If you have comments on this - I will probably listen.  If 
you’re offended - then why did you read after I warned you?  
Anyway - write to me with your thoughts.  Thank you.










---------- Forwarded message ----------
Date: Sun, 10 Nov 1996 03:56:53 GMT
From: "Lisa J. Weston" <ljweston@cris.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: First Try Part V

DISCLAIMER

READ BEFORE PROCEEDING


This story contains graphical descriptions of consensual 
sex.  It is graphic (I hope) and not for viewing by anyone 
other than adults.  If sex offends you, or if physical 
restraint offends you, or if sex between consenting women 
offends you, or if dominance and submission offends you, 
then don’t read this.







If you have comments on this - I will probably listen.  If 
you’re offended - then why did you read after I warned you?  
Anyway - write to me with your thoughts.  Thank you.







Part V.

So I stood there,  Naked, my tears drying on my face.  My 
hands begging to move to my clitoris.  Actually to anywhere 
between my legs.  My breasts still stung from the blow 
there.  My backside was just beginning to show relief from 
her blows.

Amy walked around the bed.  Like I said, I had been naked in 
front of her many times.  But I could sense she was 
examining me.  I could feel her eyes scan my entire body, 
from my hair to my toes.

“Get a finger really wet and stick it up your butt, slut 
slave.”

I moved the middle finger of my left hand to my mouth.  I 
had done this before.  Not everyday, but often enough.  I 
got it wet, slick, actually dripping wet.  I moved it to my 
backside.  I had to twist slightly.  This wasn’t actually a 
conducive position to penetrate my own rectum.

I shuddered slightly when my finger touched my opening and 
began probing.

“You little slut.  You love everything, don’t you.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Lisa …”  And she paused for a second.  “I never dreamed 
how perfect a slave you would make.  You are better than I 
had ever imagined.  I am going to make you do so many 
things.  Humiliating things.”

I shuddered again, and she smiled.  Amy was no dummy.  She 
knew exactly the effect her actions and words had on me, and 
I am quite sure she chooses her words very carefully - to 
get the full impact.

My finger was now fully inserted, and I was bent and twisted 
a little to keep it there.

‘Tell me again, slut, how much you enjoy playing with 
yourself.”

“I love it, Mistress.  I love to play with myself, as much 
as I can.”

“Do you ever finger yourself like you are now, slut?”

“Yes, Mistress.  A lot.”

She laughed softly, a smirk on her face.

“I know.  I know you are very interested in that part of 
your anatomy, aren’t you, slut?”

She did know.  At least it seemed so.  But how could she.

I almost cried as I answered.  “Yes, Mistress.”

“Your secret is safe, little slut.”

I was still on the verge of crying.  A finger up my 
backside, edging me ever closer to explosive pleasure, and 
my own dignity draining as the reality of Amy’s awareness 
hit me.

“Stop, Lisa.  Stand up straight.”

I pulled the finger from behind me.  It was always 
uncomfortable to pull my finger or my toy out.  I tried to 
avoid looking at it, but I did.  And she saw me.

“What do you see, slave?”

“My finger, Mistress.”

I screamed.  The whip hit me right on my pubic hair and 
lower stomach.  Then again, same spot, only my thighs 
screeched out on this one, also.

“I know that, slut.  What else?”

“It’s clean, Mistress.”

I was almost sobbing, but forcing not to.  If she hit me 
again, especially like that, I knew I would cave.
 
She came right up to me.  Then she reached out.  Her 
fingers, cool, soft, loving, stroked the top of my left 
foot.  Then the right.  Then back.

“sit down, Lisa.  Cross your legs facing me.”

And as she spoke the pulled gently on my leash.  I sat, my 
legs crossed.  My feet still burning with their pain, my 
thighs and stomach scorched with her whip.  She reached to 
me and ran her fingers all over my right foot.  It felt so 
good.

“See, little slut.  I can bring pleasure, too.  But you have 
to earn pleasure.  And it is very expensive.  You also have 
to beg for it.  Are you willing to beg, slut.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“And are you ready to pay for pleasure - with your body and 
your total submission?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Tell me you little slut.  Tell me what you WON’T do for 
me.”

“Nothing, Mistress.”

“Do you know what you’re saying?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Lie down like before.”

I lay back on the bed, the leash lying between my breasts 
and between my legs.  And as before, Amy walked around the 
bed tying each of my hands and legs, but tighter this time.  
I could move each, but only a few inches.

My legs were spread.  I could apply no pressure or friction 
to my aching, and very needful, crotch.  This time there was 
no plug in my rectum providing at least some pleasure there.

Amy was standing where she had before.  I could see her 
plainly, looking at my helpless nakedness, my face streaked 
with dried tears, my crotch open and exposed to her gaze.  
She set the whip down on my stomach and breasts.  Right 
before my eyes was her instrument.  Then she stepped back 
and stared some more.

And then as fast as lightening she picked it up.  I saw it 
move high in the air, and I cringed, knowing I would feel 
it, but not knowing where.

It came down right across my middle.  It burned into my 
pubic hair, my stomach, my thighs.  I cried out.

“Shut up, cunt.”

Her language got harsher and harsher, and my own arousal 
soared, as did the pain.  Again.  And I cried out again.  My 
*word* coming to mind.  This hurt so bad.

Then against the bottoms of my feet and toes.  White hot 
pain raced from the bottoms of my feet to my head.  Why did 
she do that to me there.

Then she looked right into my eyes.  I know she was looking 
for any sign that I was going to call a stop to this.  And 
believe me, I was close. My body jerked up into the air as 
the whip found its mark on my bare feet yet again.  I cried 
out another time, now almost screaming.

And then as fast as she had whipped me, she bent and kissed 
my mouth.  Softly, sweetly, as a lover would.  I was crying, 
sobbing.  Wracked with pain.

And she stepped back.  Slowly, as before, she untied her 
robe.  AS it opened I could see she was not naked beneath.  
She wore a lace bra and panties.  She was going to tease me.  
She knew full well the impact her body had on me, and she 
was going to tease me with my own desire to see her 
nakedness.

She let the robe fall to the floor, and she stood there with 
her mischievous smile, in lace bra and panties, knowing how 
frustrated I was t not being able to see her nakedness.

“I bought these just for this moment, Lisa.  I wish you 
could see your face.  It’s priceless.  You must want 
something so badly.  Is that right, slut?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“What do you want, slut slave?”

“I want your body, Mistress.  Naked.  I want to play with 
myself, Mistress.”

“You’ll get my body.  I haven’t decided if I am going to let 
you play with yourself or not.  What will you do to get me 
to let you masturbate, slut.”

“Anything, Mistress.”

“We’ll see.”

Then she began walking around the room.  Not strutting.  
Just walking.  Then she came near me and ran her hands over 
her covered breasts.  She ran them over her stomach and 
across her panty covered mound.  I was literally bucking my 
hips in the air.  Not inches, just barely perceptibly.  But 
enough that she could see.

“You are in a state, little slut.”

Then she got up on the bed, sitting, facing me by my knees, 
her feet next to my face.  She lifted one foot and placed it 
near my mouth.

“Lick my foot all over, slut.  Love it with your mouth as if 
it were a cock."

She put her foot right at my mouth, and it was easy, 
exciting for me to lick it.  To run my lips over her bare 
foot.  Anything to touch any part of her body.

I mouthed her foot, her toes.  I used my lips, my tongue.  I 
sucked on each toe and every part of her bare foot I could 
reach.  And while sitting there allowing me to do this to 
her, she was constantly caressing my pubic hair, inner 
thighs, and breasts with the thongs of her whip.

Without warning she switched feet, and I repeated the same 
on her other.  Lavishing her with any pleasure and attention 
I could.

Suddenly she pulled back.  Then she stood up.  She looked at 
me.  My whole body.  My mouth and face were damp from what I 
had just done, but I couldn’t use my hands to wipe myself 
dry - they were bound far too tightly.

And then her hand swung.  Watching that happen was almost 
agonizing.  I could see the swing of her hand.  The thongs 
of the whip blurred as it hurled through the air.  I could 
it’s target.  My feet already ached with previous 
punishment.

But she was merciless.  It struck again, and my feet and I 
both screamed at once.

“Shut up, bitch, or I’ll whip the skin off you.”

Tears ran yet again.  But she didn’t strike.  She was 
pushing me harder and harder, yet she seemed to know 
perfectly my threshold.  She stopped, time and time again, 
right as our safe word was forming in my mouth.

Never in my wildest dreams had I ever imagined that such 
intense pain would drive me to sexual heights I had never 
before even thought could exist.  The combination of being 
called her slut, her slave, a bitch.  Being hurt, whipped, 
made to humiliate myself.  And knowing that even more 
humiliation, degradation were in store for me.  These all 
served to make every sexual nerve in my body come alive with 
never before experienced desire.

And somehow she knew.

She backed away again and looked, smiled.  And as I looked 
back at her, that feeling of love and devotion crept into 
me.  I felt like I was betraying Shawn, yet, at the same 
time, fulfilling needs I could have admitted to no one.

And then her hands moved behind her, and in a beautiful, 
revealing move, her lace bra dropped to the floor.  She 
smiled, enjoying how much she was able to arouse me, control 
me, by revealing what I had seen and touched so often 
before.

She let me stare for what seemed like minutes, and then her 
hands moved over her breasts, then back up, back down.  She 
was rubbing them while I watched.  I squirmed, bounced.  
Then she moved her hands down her ribs, and let her fingers 
hook into her lace panties.  Slowly she peeled them down her 
legs, letting em see once more her sex.

I bounced and whimpered uncontrollably.

“You are one horny little slut, aren’t you, Lisa?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Then she slid a finger between her legs, wincing slightly as 
it must have touched her center.  And she moved to me.  She 
pulled the finger under my nose, and the aroma was 
unmistakable.

Then she rubbed herself with the finger several times.  And 
this time she pushed the finger between my lips.  I sucked 
at it madly, tasting her, loving it.

Then as before, she stepped up onto the bed, facing my feet.  
She then got down on her knees, her feet right near my face.  
She reached back with both hands and spread her luscious 
cheeks apart.  Her rose opening was just inches from my 
face.  Beckoning.  I imagined it was throbbing.  And she 
lowered herself.

I didn’t need to be told.  I went after her anal ring like 
the wanton bitch I was.  I used my lips, my tongue.  I even 
tried to scrape my teeth on her.  She whimpered, moaned, 
even grunted as she ground her backside into my face, and as 
I literally tried to suck her inside out.

At the same time my hips bounced, though I knew she wouldn’t 
touch me.  I knew the only relief I would get would be when 
she gave me her permission to masturbate.

I could feet her body tense.  Her feet pressed against my 
head.  She grunted even louder.  It was then that I realized 
she had a hand between her own legs and was fingering 
herself as I was performing this oral homage to her 
backside.

Then she exploded.  She cried out in her pleasure, and I 
could feel the contractions of her orgasm on my mouth.  I 
could actually feel her muscles moving inside her as they 
gave her her pleasure.

And then she rolled off me.  She lay next to me, her face 
near my knees.  Her hands were together between her thighs.  
Not touching, just clasped together.

And as her breathing calmed she spoke.

“You sure do know how to make a girl feel good, slut.”

And then she got up off the bed.  I watched as she walked 
around the bed and headed for the bathroom.

“I’ll be back, slave.  Behave yourself, now.”  And then she 
laughed slightly and walked into the bathroom closing the 
door behind her.

Oh no, I thought.  She isn’t going to leave me here like 
this.  Last time she at least allowed me to bring myself 
off.  But now she had left, and I was tied far too securely 
to even think about getting loose.

Then I heard the water running, and I knew she was 
showering.  She was leaving me here like this while she 
showered.  I could tell by the change ion the sound when she 
stepped into the water.   She must have stayed in there for 
fifteen minutes before I heard the water shut off.

Finally though, it did.  And then I heard her hair dryer!  
What in the world was she doing?  This had to be worse than 
the pain she had caused.  Being left here totally helpless 
like this, in unbelievable need.  

But she finally walked back out.  She stood there looking at 
me again, now completely dressed.  She was wearing jeans and 
a blouse, and tennis shoes.  Fully dressed, staring at me, 
while I was tied up and totally naked.

She walked over to me standing right at the edge of the bed, 
and then she bent and kissed me on the mouth.  I pushed my 
tongue out at her as fast as I could - anything for more 
contact.  But she pulled back.

Then she walked back to the bathroom.  She was gone only a 
moment.  When she came back she was carrying something in 
her hand, but I couldn’t see what it was - until she was 
right next to the bed.

It was a rubber or plastic penis.  Slightly bigger than real 
life, and it had a base on it.  I instantly knew she was 
going to put it in me.

But no.  She moved it to my mouth.

“Suck it, little slut.”

And I went after it like it was the real thing.  I moved my 
mouth up and down.  I sucked it, I licked it.  I moved my 
lips on it.

“It won’t be long, little bitch, before I have you doing 
that to the real thing.  Would you like that, little cock 
sucker?”

I couldn’t speak, but Nodded and tried anyway.

“You’ll get your chance, slut.  And much more.  But you’ll 
have to earn it, and pay for it.”

Then she pulled it out.  I moaned, disappointed.  And then 
she reached into her pocket and pulled out a tube of KY 
lubricant.  She spread it all over the already wet toy.  I 
watched in awe.  She was meticulous about it, spreading the 
goo with her index finger and twirling the toy in her hand.

Then she moved it to between my legs, and in one rapid 
thrust, pushed it all the way into my rectum.  I had assumed 
it was headed for my vagina.

“Ahhhh.”  It hurt slightly, but caught me totally off guard.

“Shut up, slut, or I’ll go back and get the whip.  Do you 
want that?”

“No, Mistress.”

“OK then.  I’ll be back.”

And she got up and walked out of the room.  I was totally 
alone on the dark room, tied, naked, a rubber penis in my 
rectum, and so aroused, and sore, that I didn’t think I 
would survive without relief.

And she had left me here like this!

I looked at the clock on her night stand.  It was 10:30.  We 
had been home for about two hours.  And in that time I had 
been whipped, humiliated, and made her feel so very good.

I moved my head back and just stared at the ceiling.  I had 
to admit, the penis in me felt so good.  I had only had anal 
intercourse a couple of times in my life, and it had always 
hurt.  But the guy doing it had never been patient.  Just a 
selfish stud that wanted the kinkiness of anal sex, and I 
had been willing enough, and stupid enough, to do it.

Now I craved it.  I lay there and imagined how it would feel 
if this were a real penis inside me - with a man - moving it 
in and out of me, slowly, steadily, deeply.  I crooned 
softly to myself as I could actually feel his body against 
mine, the hotness, hardness, inside me.  Knowing that he 
would empty himself in me, and that, if I were lucky, I 
might be able to feel his penis as it exploded, just as I 
had felt Amy’s muscles as she orgasmed.

Knowing your partner was orgasming was one thing.  But there 
is nothing in the world like actually feeling your partner 
orgasm.  Fell her muscles as they contract, knowing exactly 
what she is feeling, as she is feeling it.

And the same with a man.  To be able to actually feel his 
penis throb and jerk with each spasm as he feels it and 
fills your hand, or vagina, or mouth with his seed.

I jerked my hips up to meet the thrusts of my imaginary 
lover, urging him to plunge deeper inside me.  The fullness 
was sweet, almost a euphoric sensation.  It provided little, 
but noticeable stimulation to my real need.  Not enough to 
satisfy it, rather just enough to keep it alive enough to 
have me begging for just a few seconds of my own touch.

******************************