Bound To Be...

"My offer is simple," I began in my most dominant tone.

"You will be my sex slave, as your master I will use your body as I see fit for my personal pleasure. You will obey me immediately and do the same for any others I designate. If you obey orders you will avoid punishment, if not the severity of the punishment will increase." I paused.

"Understand that my wife is not my slave. She is a submissive and, in that regard, she answers to me as her Master. However, unlike you slave, she is her own person and she will be permitted to use your body as shes fit. She will be your Mistress."

I leaned forward and spoke softly into her ear. "Breathe deeply," I said, "smell your mistress' sex." She groaned in a vague disapproving arousal. We both knew that she didn't have a choice.

"If you accept my offer, you willingly enter into casual servitude for the next 6 months as a trial; if you are successful you will continue for three years part time. At the end of your contract we will consider your application for permanent enslavement."

I rolled back on my heals and went to stand up - "I'm going to let you think about my offer."

I set an alarm for 75 minutes and then made myself comfortable on the bed.

-[ = ]-

Without any external cue's like a clock, song or television show, Patrica had lost all concept of time. To her it felt like there wasn't a time before this; that she had never known more than struggling against the ropes that held her back from release.

Patricia fought back her tears and cries, and tried to quieten her struggles. Again and again the vibrator purred on, its implacable mechanical stimulus penetrating to the very core of her being. It seemed to search out places that she never knew about where arousing sensations could be found. She tried to become detached, elsewhere, as her fickle body craved the empty solace of a mechanical climax.

"Please," she mindlessly repeated behind her gag, hearing only "Hmmh," escape into the room. Her desperate moans filled her ears as the scent of her mistress' arousal filled her nose. It was no good resisting.

After almost two hours of bondage and having to maintain her pose, Patrica looked ready be freed. You could see it in her face, she was drooling down her cheek and into the carpet and her nipples were obviously very sore from all the tension of the nipple clamps. In addition, her shoulders and ankles ached from the tight bondage and high heels.

I waited until she was about cum.

I turned off the Hitachi.

It was all she could do to look out at me, her glazed eyes filled with a mixture of despair and great need. A silent solitary tear streamed down her smooth cheek towards her stoppered mouth which almost blended perfectly with its color coordinated ballgag. Her full, shiny, red lips wrapped around the ball and the black leather strap cut into the corners of her mouth.

-[ = ]-

I released the hogtie rope first. Patricia sighed audibly as the tension was relieved from her taught body and she painfully drew her knees forward in line with the rest of her body.

Untying her ankles, I eased her top leg back so that I could get to the massager. Patricia's thighs were sticky with her own juices, which also ran down both sides of her thigh to the dampened carpet beneath her. I wasn't going to be able to get it out in this position.

"Kneel." I commanded.

Patricia dragged her spent, sweaty body across the floor, half rolling onto the fresh cool carpet, leaving a moist streak behind her. After a period of endless agony, she finally found the strength to rise. As I helped lift her shoulders she subconsciously shifted her weight evenly onto her spread knees.

It was only the tape on the outside her hip and thigh that was left keeping the slippery massager in place. I unwrapped the tape, slowly pulling it away from the smooth skin and then removed the massager.

"Stand," and I took her shoulder weight as she leaned forward and took a sure footing on her heels. She was woozy on her feet and of course still unable to lift her head. I knelt in front of her, hitched a thumb on each side of her waist-band and pulled her sodden panties to the floor in one quick tug.

I took a deep breath - pulling the pungent scent in. Patricia jumped when I blew sharply across her enormously swollen clit.

I untied her wrists. Patricia winced as she finally lowered her shoulders only to find that the pull of the clover clamps refused to let her breasts fall to their natural height. She reached up and removed the right nipple clamp without further thought. It was a terrible mistake - the jolt that it gave her as the blood rushed back into the nipples must have been enough to push her over the edge. Patricia just closed her eyes and screamed into her ball gag. Through the searing pain she was having one tremendous orgasm. She then fell back to her knees exhausted - the room spinning crazily around her - she desperately needed everything to be still.

Finally the room settled enough for Patricia to gather her wavering strength for a moment. No longer sure she should stand, she now very carefully removed the second nipple clamp. Knowing what was coming meant that this proved to be harder than the first. As the clamp was removed, a shock was felt that started painfully at the nipple and ended, throbbing, between her legs. Patricia was finally able to throw her head back and howl like a banshee into the gag with tears of pain and joy streaming down her cheeks. Her nipples were so sensitive and sore from all the struggling that she instinctively covered her exposed breasts and nursed them, looking down at them as if to ask if they were okay.

I moved behind Patricia and released her nose from my wife's damp panties and lifted them from her head. A moment later she was free from the harness for the ball gag. A dollop of spit dabbed out over her chest and the arms protecting her breasts as the ball popped from her mouth.

"AAAaaaarghh!" she moaned when her jaw was finally free to relax.

I left her there, on her knees, while I retrieved a glass of water for her.

-[ = ]-

Her knees felt unsteady, and each step brushed her swollen clit against her inner thighs. I helped her slip the summer dress on, and then guided her to the door. Distracted by the brush of her thighs against her swollen genitals, Patricia didn't notice she was being walked out into the day-light.

"You will find a cab waiting for you outside. If you agree to my offer then the next time we meet, under any circumstance, you will be unsexed for three days and wearing this under a tight thong," and I gave her a box with a ribbon in one hand and her handbag in the other, and closed the door.

She hadn't noticed before but she was suddenly cold. Each heeled step toward the carpark meant that her breasts would shake and along with her tits, her painfully sensitive nipples were rubbing against the fabric of her dress. Between the brush of her thighs and rub of her dress she never thought she'd make the 50 step walk to cab. They were a constant reminder of Him and that she had better take her time.

Only in the seclusion of the back seat, after the cab was well on its way, did Patricia dare look at the gift she had been given.

From the picture on the lid she could tell that it was a vibrator of some sort, one that looked like it would be both inserted and protruded, resting directly on the clit. She immediately forced her eyes closed and shuddered. The mere thought of clitoral stimulation made her want to curl up and hide. Returning her attention to the box, something wasn't right. She couldn't see an on/off button in any of the pictures. She opened up the box and went through its contents. It wasn't until she skimmed the instructions that the answer caught her attention; the vibrator came with a remote control, but there was none to be found.

-[ = ]-

Two weeks passed and Patricia could no longer wait. More than anything she wanted to be dominated again. No amount of fantasy, fiction, porn or masturbation could give her the feelings that she'd had with Him. Patricia organised for a BBQ and a chance for the kids (and hopefully the grown-ups) to play.

On the Wednesday Patricia browsed to her favourite bondage video site, slid her favourite vibrator home and began to masturbate for the last time. It was hard to concentrate on the movie with the vibrator going. Her mind started to drift and fantasize. She imagined being forced to perform for Him against her will, that she was a slave that was being punished for some small deed that had not pleased Him. She also fantasized that while bound and gagged, her girlfriend walked into the room and found her. Instead of releasing her, however, Kate continued to tease her and tighten her already tight bondage. Patricia came in flood. It was an orgasm second only to *that* day.

Saturday morning, Patricia showered whilst fantasising about being forced to cum. To his instructions she had inserted the toy and worn the smallest thong that would keep it in place. The butt of the dildo was pushed tight, straining against the tiny panties and looking for all the world like a small cylindrical dick. The thought of their previous session and where the afternoon might lead kept Patricia's little pussy drooling. She was so wet she was worried about leaving wet spots everywhere, and so kept herself busy doing laundry until her guests arrived.

-[ = ]-

Patricia was delighted to see Kate and anxiously looked about for her other guest. Before her disappointment had a chance to set in, Kate threw her arms around her and she returned the embrace. To Patricia's horror the device in her pussy was suddenly active - pulsing away with a low frequency vibration - and threatening to finish off days of foreplay built up through her own fantasy. Her breathing picked up as goose-bumps broke over her skin. She felt like a naughty girl caught in the act; fear washed over her, chased by excitement and suddenly arousal.

Kate moved her mouth next to Patricia's ear and whispered;

"Now we both know ..," Kate paused to let it sink in.

Patricia bit her lip both nervously and in an attempt to delay her imminent orgasm.

Kate continued musing, ".. I wonder if you will earn the chance to turn that off .."

Patricia was suddenly aware of the familiar musky smell of Kate's sex, but her mind was already too foggy to recall how she knew that. It only served to fuel a fire that she was rapidly losing control of.

"P-Please ..," Patricia mumbled, but Kate stopped her and whispered viciously;

"If I find that you've taken it out without permission, you will be punished severely within the terms of your contract."

Patricia blushed and felt her pussy get wetter than she had ever known: "But ..," she gasped.

Kate said loudly, "It's great to see you again and I like what you've done with the house babe!" as she let go of her friend and turned in place. "I've got a new Playstation game for the kids so we'll have plenty of time to ourselves; I'm really looking forward to our time this afternoon," Kate winked back at Patricia, and confidently found her own way into the house.

Patricia, blushing furiously with humiliation, still facing the street at the open front door, clenched her knees together and pulled forcefully at the door knob as she lost control of her orgasm. She didn't know whether to cry or shout for joy, instead gingerly closing the door while her nerves ran away with her - her head swimming in the afterglow as her thighs grew damp with her own sex, her heart beating at a million miles an hour while she struggled to come to grip with her new role as Their slave.

-[ = ]-

That night, as ordered, my luxuriously wet submissive prepared herself, kneeled and waited for me.

I arrived home, first proud to find my disciplined wife dressed and waiting, then captured by the smell of her arousal - intoxicating - and stunningly beautiful.

Without further instruction Kate took out my cock and then placed both hands behind her head. She proceeded to tantalizingly describe how she teased and tortured her friend-and-slave in glorious detail, seductively sucking and biting my cock between every other word.

"Thanks to your training, Sir, ..," she took a long slow wet draw on my cock, ".. I recognised the smell of her wet cunt ..," she accentuated the "t" by trailing her front teeth along the head - a pain that I have always loved her for - ".. as soon as I walked in." She swirled her tongue around my throbbing member and I rolled my head back in ecstasy.

Kate, assuming I was lost in the moment, tried secretly to lower her hand to feel out her needy clit. She assumed too much.

The stinging kiss of my crop brought her attention back to the story and my pleasure, both that time and each time that Kate began to quiet and fantasise, or drop an eager hand to squeeze an aching nipple or rub her hungry cunt. Each slap producing another moan that only served to make me harder and edge us both closer, until eventually Kate gave up pretending and flagrantly masturbated while I flogged her to orgasm as she expertly sucked me off and swallowed my load.

Despite the adventures we've had since then, neither of us has a more favourite memory than the climax of that night, built from the foreplay of power exchanges that made it possible.