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BDSM fantasy

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Kathy

Terra Nova Tramp
Here is my BDSM fantasy story , feel free to add yours on this thread.

i shower and then approach the vanity area, where my hostess instructed me to reapply makeup and fix my hair, making myself presentable to Master again - all in front of the observing Dominants in the lounge area.

Just as i am finishing up, my hostess reenters the room, with my heels and a rope in her hands.

"Well done, slave," she says simply. "You may put your heels on again."

As a petite slave, i appreciate being allowed to wear heels in the presence of my Master, who towers over me.

With that, i put my heels back on, and she ties the rope around my neck, leading me out of the room. i fantasize briefly about how nice it will be when i can be led more beautifully by a real leash attached to a lovely collar, gifted to me by my Master.

As we enter the restaurant, i notice three nude women on the stage, dancing around poles, as strippers, but each chained by the wrist to her respective pole.

Then at last, i see Master sitting at his reserved table in front of the stage, enjoying a drink while watching the subs dancing on the stage.

As my hostess leads me to him, Master turns to me, and our eyes meet in a glorious moment. i experience a sexual surge race through my body upon seeing him. He looks me up and down, and comments simply, "You look good, slave."

i melt upon hearing these approving words.

As i stand before him awaiting instruction, he then unzips his pants, pulls out his precious cock, and strokes it a bit, while devouring my body with his eyes.

i look at his cock, then look in his eyes with a tremendous longing. My knees become weak, and i stumble a bit as i am overcome with desire to submit to my Master's beloved cock.

Master chuckles and says, "You will earn the privilege of servicing my cock soon enough, slave. But first you must show some gratitude and respect to your hostess, who has taken very good care of you this evening."

He then commands me to assume the Gorean Tower position, which is used when a slave is in the presence of a free woman. i drop to my knees, sit back on my heels, palms facing down atop my thighs, looking down in submission.

My hostess takes a seat next to Master and spreads her legs, revealing her nicely trimmed pussy under her short skirt.

"Service her pussy," Master commands.

i am taken aback. It has been a very long time since i've pleasured a woman - my only experiences were with a girl i dated. i continue to find women incredibly sexy and beautiful - and certainly arousing. But the thought of actually making contact with a woman's pussy is unsettling after all this time.

i look at Master in hesitation. i am stalling.

"Are you resisting my order?!" he says with an angry tone.

i am instantly overcome with panic. i feel crushed any time Master expresses disappointment. My heart sinks. i have a fundamental, deep-seated need to please my Master at all times.

"Master, no! i'm happy to serve her for you. i'm sorry!" i plead.

i focus my attention again on this exposed pussy before me. She's not fully shaved . She has a little patch of hair at the top.

i gently place my hands on my hostess' thighs, then take in her scent, remembering the smell of a woman's pussy after so many years.

i can't bring myself to lick her just yet, so i instead slowly touch the opening of her pussy with my fingers. She is dripping wet, and i notice her clit increasing in size as she becomes more aroused. i glide my fingers from her hole up to her clit and stroke it in gentle circles. She moans. i remember rubbing my own clit just moments ago in the lounge area, as directed by my Master, and i smile recalling Master's generous gift. My pussy aches to be touched again, but this moment is not about my pleasure.

i continue rubbing her clit for several moments.

Then, my Master scolds me, "You are not giving her your full potential. Service her with the same vigor you worship my cock!"

i'm shocked. i have never pleasured anyone in my life with the motivation and drive i experience when i pleasure my Master. i simply can't imagine. And further, i am out of practice with women!

But i am determined to please Master, so i take a deep breath, spread her legs farther apart, lean in, and begin kissing her inner thighs while moving my fingers toward her pussy. Then with great purpose, i slide two fingers into her hole and my tongue makes contact with her swelling clit.

She moans more loudly this time and grabs a fist-full of my hair in her hand for a moment.

"Good pet!" calls Master.

i'm utterly thrilled and inspired upon hearing Master's approval!

i pump my fingers in and out, and move my tongue more vigorously, flicking and sucking her clit. After some time, i push a third finger in and push more deeply into her very wet pussy. She begins writhing and pumping her hips against my thrusting fingers.

After some time, then...the feeling i haven't experienced in many years...the feeling of a pussy tightening around my fingers. Her moans intensify, and her contracting pussy grips my fingers. She cums - i have successfully pleasured this woman for my Master!

Once she recovers and collects herself, she and Master exchange a few words and then she leaves the table.

Master invites me to sit next to him.

"I am so proud of you, little pet."

My eyes light up, and i smile sweetly at him in appreciation for his praise.

He continues, "Now it's time for you to relax for a moment and enjoy a glass of wine with me, as we discuss and finalize the terms of our agreement. Before we go one step further, I need to be absolutely sure that you fully understand our arrangement and that this is truly what you want," he explains as he puts my glass in front of me.

"Thank you, Master."

"As we have discussed, upon your collaring, I will own you completely, and your submission to me will be total. I will not jeopardize your job, but as you've seen this evening, your submission can extend to public places and other participants as I see fit. I will make all decisions regarding your body and how it will be used by me or by others."

"Yes, Master. i understand and accept all of that. i trust you, and i willingly submit."

"While you will receive pleasure at times, I also will deny you pleasure for weeks, even months at a time. You will understand that your pleasure and desires are generally insignificant and irrelevant, and you will focus your thoughts and energy instead on satisfying and pleasing me."

"Yes, that is what i want, Master!"

"As a general rule, you will not be allowed to touch yourself sexually, with very rare exceptions. Any opportunity I give you to touch yourself will be viewed as a gift from me. I own your body, so it follows that I will dictate when it is pleased and by whom. I will continue to strictly own and control every single orgasm you experience. You absolutely may not experience an orgasm without my direction and approval. Doing so would be the most serious trangression, and grounds for canceling the collar and downgrading our relationship to a simple D/s scenario with occasional sessions, if I choose to continue anything with you at all, that is. I would no longer be your Master and you would no longer be my collared slave if that happens.

"Of course, Master. I would expect nothing less."

"At times, when I do not see you for long periods at a time, I may have you stimulate your pussy without being allowed to orgasm. For example, I may order you to masturbate for 10 minutes, three times a day for several days in a row...before allowing you to cum. You will edge for me for days at a time without cumming. Do you agree to this? Is this what you want?"

My pussy now is sopping wet and intensely throbbing with desire for my Master. There's nothing i want more than for him to own and control my sexuality, just as he describes. My desire for this is even greater than he recognizes.

"Master, not only do i want all of that, but i would like to humbly suggest even greater restrictions. May i be so bold as to surrender more to you?"

"You may."

"i would like to request that on the occasions when you have me torment myself in private by edging multiple times a day for several days...when you finally do let me cum, perhaps you could consider ordering me to give myself 'ruined' orgasms for the most part, and save true, pleasurable orgasms for very rare occasions. Perhaps even restrict true orgasms to taking place only in your presence, and never alone. i believe this would serve to more fully ingrain in me my status as your slave - even if i do still continue to beg when i am desperate!"

i pause.

"Go on..." he allows.

"Further, as you well know, the sensation of playing with my nipples is incredible to me and something that i cherish when you allow it. To further demonstrate my submission to you and your ownership of my body and my sexuality...i would like to sacrifice the ability to even occasionally touch my nipples. i would like to surrender *all* nipple touching to you - or others as you see fit - for as long as i am your collared slave! Please make me your denial slut!"

i then lower my head in submission, awaiting his reaction.

He lifts my chin up to look into my eyes, and responds, "Slave, you have pleased me greatly. And you have given me an additional idea. Perhaps at times we will go weeks or months without my fucking your pussy, taking you only in the ass, to further emphasize the insignificance of your pleasure, compared to the importance of mine."

"Yes, Master."

"Well then, it looks like we have an agreement and can move forward. Here comes our dinner. Assume the Gorean She-Sleen position on the floor, where you will eat from a pet bowl, while I dine here at the table, enjoying the preshow. And pet, it's time to inform you that you will be the main attraction on stage this evening, where you will demonstrate your ability to endure pain for my pleasure."

i gasp!

Then he adds, "You are a very good slave."
 

Kathy

Terra Nova Tramp
Here i stand, blindfolded, naked, and completely exposed, with my wrists tied together around a pole behind me, in a restaurant/club.

i still have no idea if Master is sitting at our reserved table next to me or is elsewhere in the club...or not even here yet, for that matter.

People are carrying on, dining, talking, drinking, enjoying music. Then suddenly i hear a man and woman speaking near me, but i can't make out what they're saying. They get closer, and the man says to the woman, "Touch its tits, my slave."

The woman's hands softly graze my tits.

i am utterly confused with his words and don't understand what's happening.

"it has lovely tits, Master," she comments.

"They are referring to me as 'it'? How can this be?" i silently exclaim.

At this moment in time, i realize that Master has displayed me as his property here, allowing others to sample "it." He is giving me no say in this. He is chipping away at the very notion of me as an individual, of my having any "self."

As unsettling as this is, i recognize that i want nothing more than to please Master. i tell myself that i must learn to make the transition to being more fully his property.

The slave then begins to roll my nipples between her forefinger and thumb. This takes my breath away. A sexual surge travels through my body, culminating with a throb in my pussy.

During these months since becoming my Master's slave, i have been on self-touch restriction and orgasm restriction, with extremely limited access to my own tits. Touching myself and experiencing pleasure are rare and precious gifts that Master chooses to give to me, or not, as he sees fit.

As a result, on the few occasions when my nipples are touched, it's an incredibly stimulating and arousing sensation.

i sometimes stand before the mirror and look at my naked body, and specifically at my erect nipples, feeling desperate to touch them, desperate for Master's permission.

i begin to recognize now that the current stimulation is a gift from my Master, and that it would be rude and inappropriate for me to resist any pleasure that my Master is allowing.

So i take in the moment and savor the amazing pleasure from having my tits fondled by this woman. i feel thankful for this gift.

"Put your fingers in its pussy, slave."

i brace myself. Then i experience her gently putting two fingers in my pussy.

"It's quite wet, Master," she says.

"Perfect. Move out of the way. I'm going to fuck its pussy now."

i gasp. i'm horrified.

My Master is testing me tonight, and he is making it quite clear that i will have no say in matters concerning my body.

"Am i ready for this? Do i really want this? Can i handle this?" i ponder to myself.

i remember my hostess' words at the beginning of the evening, warning me not to resist, or else reconsider my decision to become his collared slave.

The man grabs my hips and slides his hard cock into my wet pussy. It takes all of my mental strength to resist pulling away or squirming.

Suddenly, another pair of masculine hands squeezes my ass from behind and smacks it.

"Mind if I play with it while you fuck it?" The new man asks from behind me.

"Have at it," he says while continuing to fuck me. "I'll be out of your way soon enough and you can fuck it too, if you'd like. Its pussy is quite nice."

Then suddenly someone is at my side, squeezing and fondling my tits.

"Is it the woman from a few minutes ago? Is it someone new?" i wonder in astonishment. "How far will this go?!"

Then it hits me. Entering into a collared slave relationship with my Master is going to be all or nothing. Either i belong to him, or i do not. Either my body is truly his to do with as he pleases, or it is not. Either i am an object that is owned by him, or i am not. Either my purpose is to please him, or it is not.

And the choice has to be made tonight. Once i pass his test and agree to be collared, there's no turning back, and there will be no room for these internal struggles in the future.

i desperately want this - in theory.

Being owned by him is everything to me. Over the years, while dabbling in D/s play, i've known that, deep down inside, i was meant for a deeper, more intense level of submission. i have read BDSM literature and felt jealous of stories involving true slaves and true Masters. i have wanted to truly *live* the life of a slave and not simply play the part from time to time. i have wanted to surrender to a worthy owner.

i desire this with every fiber of my being. Master is testing me tonight to see just how committed i am to fully surrendering to him.

The man pulls out and sprays his cum all over me, while the person next to me is still squeezing and now lightly smacking my tits. Then someone begins licking the cum from my body, presumably the man's slave.

Just as she finishes licking up the cum, the man from behind comes around to the front, grabs my hips, and then slides his cock into my pussy.

i hear other voices nearby, commenting on my body and on the activities happening to me. i have no sense of how many people are watching from afar, in addition to those right around me.

Now someone new is spanking my ass, and this second man is pounding his cock harder into me. After a few moments, he pulls out and i feel cum spray all over me, once again for a second time, while the someone new is still smacking and grabbing my ass.

"What a good slut it is!" the man adds as he recovers from his orgasm.

i hear others laugh and comment in agreement.

Then, the voice of my hostess, "OK folks, that's enough for now."

i feel tremendous relief upon hearing her voice calling off the activities.

"You have done very, very well, slave. Your master has watched you since the minute you walked in the door. And let me tell you, he is incredibly pleased." Then i sense her step away.

i am overcome with emotion upon hearing these words. Tears begin to form in my eyes, behind the blindfold.

i sob softly.

"He's pleased with me!" i whisper to myself. "i made him happy. It was all worth it."

After some moments, a man approaches me, puts his arm around my back, forcefully presses his body against me, and grabs my jaw aggressively, pulling my face up to him, and smacking my face a bit.

Master handles me like this. This has to be Master!

He slowly pulls my blindfold off. Quite surprisingly, i'm not drawn to look around to take in my surroundings that have been hidden from me since the moment i walked into this club. i don't look around to see who might have just fucked me. Instead, i obediently look only into my Master's blue eyes. i know that demonstrating my submission to him is all that matters in this moment.

"Oh, Master, it's you!" i exclaim.

He looks intensely into my tear-filled eyes. He then kisses me passionately, and i kiss back, the best i can considering i am still tied to the pole.

He aggressively pulls on my tits, more agressively and painfully than anyone else has so far tonight. i flinch from the pain, but i don't pull away or resist.

Sexual surges race wildly through my body as he kisses me, my pussy throbs, and i realize there's nowhere else i would rather be, and nothing else i would rather be doing than standing here in this club, naked, tied to a pole, and being handled by my Master like this, after being used by others for his pleasure.

"I am incredibly proud of you, slave. You have brought me tremendous pleasure. But know that there is more in store. I look forward to seeing you continue to earn your slave collar tonight - if you still want it, that is?"

"Oh yes, Master, i do! There's nothing i won't do to please you."
 

Kathy

Terra Nova Tramp
As the taxi drives away I look around, feeling alone. I am finally here. When I leave I shall be transformed. That thought pleases me, but makes me nervous. I know I have been indulgent of late and I deserve this, but the treatment is severe and difficult to endure.

The attendants inside check me in and soon I am ready to begin. I am led to my chamber where my clothes are removed. Wearing a short robe I am led to the showers where two female attendants wash me, one directing the spray while the other coats my skin with lather.

After the impersonal shower I am toweled off and led to the medical chamber where I am weighed, measured, and examined inside and out. It is all done very routinely, impersonally, and I enjoy the feeling.

My first appointment is with Mark. I remember him well. A large muscular man who used to be a professional body builder. Now he is the whipping master at the club. I go to him with apprehension. He is pleased to see me.

We begin with a light whipping, me strapped to a vertical rotating column. As it slowly spins around I am greeted with the lash across my back, my buttocks, my legs. He spares nothing, but goes over me well. This is not a discipline whipping but a preparation whipping. I must be toughened for what I am to endure.

The whipping lasts a half hour, and I am tired when it is over. It was not very painful, but my body tingles all over. "Come back after lunch for the other side," he says , and I nod.

I am given an enema before lunch. Fortunately it is a small one, warm, not hot, and as I sit for lunch I already feel overwhelmed. Lunch is a simple salad. It is elegant and tasty, with three kinds of lettuce, several exotic vegetables, and a spicy low-calorie dressing.

After lunch I spend an hour in the warm sauna, and then it is back to Mark. Again I am strapped to the pole, but this time my back is pressed against it. My breasts and crotch are fully exposed to his lash and he does not spare me but whips me all over. This is more painful but Mark is gentle. He does not want to hurt me, only help me to feel. It is wonderful.

After my whipping I go to my room for a short nap, then to Sarah for another enema, this one larger and with warmer water. She leaves it inside me for a good fifteen minutes and when she returns she takes a small wooden paddle from a drawer and spanks my bottom at least a dozen times, sternly warning me not to lose my enema. It is difficult, but somehow I manage. My bottom feels good and warm when she is done, though my face is flushed with shame at being treated like this. It is good none of my friends or associates are here!

My next stop is the weight room, and here the strange man makes me really work. We begin with stretching and calisthetics, and then pump iron on various machines for almost an hour. We work on my pecs, , my abs, my legs, everything. I am exhausted when we finish. My trainer pushed me hard and didn't hesitate to spank me whenever he thought I needed it.

In my chamber the attendants are waiting for me, and again I am showered and washed without being allowed to do it myself.

Supper is light. A clear broth followed by steamed vegetables and small slice of roasted chicken. The meal is delicious, though the portions are small. For dessert there is a small quivering cube of Jello.

I read for a while before bed, but soon fall asleep. It is barely dark outside but I am too tired to keep my eyes open.

In the morning I am awakened before dawn and led by an attendant to the showers. There are many of us here, all women. Two attendants spray all of us with water and our own attendants wash us down. It is strange. There is much laughter and giggling and yet I can see many of the girls have been treated severely, their buttocks and thighs whipped. In a few days I shall be like them, perhaps even today. Will I be ready?

I am taken outside and naturally I am not allowed any clothing. First is the whipping, this time by a petite female . She binds me to the cross-post with my hands above my head and whips me all over. She uses a cloth whip with many tails, and it does not hurt at all--it only _feels_. It is hard to describe. In some ways it is too light, and I want more, but in other ways it is too intense.

Occasionally during the whipping the woman stops and caresses my body. She feels my skin and tells me I am beautiful, and then she whips me more. Finally, after a long time (it felt like hours but was about forty minutes) she puts down the cloth whip and picks up a heavy leather strap. With this she whips my bottom and thighs, and this _hurts_. No games here, this is pain. I writhe and cry out but it does no good. She spanks me until my bottom flesh is roasting, and then she sprays me with water from a squirt bottle, the fine mist settling all over my body. Then she whips me with the cloth whip for another ten minutes.

After my hour of whipping I am led to the sweatbox, a small metal container in the middle of the courtyard. There are several of these. They are like miniature greenhouses, with curved roofs that dissipate the sun's rays. Inside is a small bed where I stretch out, still naked. The woman locks me in.

Time passes slowly. I drift in and out of sleep. It is very warm. Not hot, but warm. My body glistens with sweat and my buttocks and thighs sting. After an eternity the woman returns. "How long was I in there?" I ask as I climb out. My body drips with sweat.

"Two hours," she says, and leads me to the whipping post again. My arms are bound above my head and this time the whipping is with a real whip--threads of leather dangling from a wooden handle. It is still a light whipping but now the blows sting. The woman moves all around me, varying the blows. She never strikes the same place twice. She'll catch my bottom with a blow and then my breasts. Another will come from the front but slap the backs of my thighs. She whips my belly and back, my chest, the front of my legs, and even brings the whip of between my legs. I am soon moaning softly and whimpering. It does no good.

The whipping continues now with a thicker whip, and it leaves marks. Tiny welts begin to appear all over my body: my breasts, my belly, my inner thighs, my buttocks, my back, my calves. I cannot stop weeping. It hurts very much.

With the whipping done the woman takes up a long riding crop and strikes the back of my legs and my buttocks a couple dozen strokes. Each blow leaves a thick welt pulsing and throbbing, and I scream with each application.

After the cropping the woman splashes me with two buckets of salt water, one to my front and one to my back. My body burns with feeling. She unchains me and takes me to the mudbaths where I am covered with thick, gooey mud that feels deliciously cool and wonderful against my stinging flesh. I am left in the mud to soak for an hour. I am blissfully happy.

The icy spray used to wash off the mud is horrible. It stings but numbs my body. I am forced to rotate my body every which way so that the spray can wash me clean. The mud has invaded my entire body, especially between my legs, and I know that I shall have to be thoroughly cleaned later.

A white terry-cloth robe is provided and I head for the cafeteria for a late lunch. I am famished and hope that there is more than salad. As I walk, my body aching, I think of what lies ahead, part of me, a deeper, perhaps more intimate part, is feverishly excited. I know that this place will transform me, it will be worth the effort.
 
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Barbaria1

Rebel Leader
Staff member
Nicely done, Kathy. Good writing,
 

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
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