~Chapter 2~
Bondage of a Different Sort!
I could hear her in my head, "Spread your legs and show Me your wanton, dripping cunt." The secretions automatically wetted my awfully expensive panties just thinking about the last time I'd been in just that position. Sitting behind my desk at the finance company where I worked, it took all the strength of will I had to finish the day. The more I thought about what awaited me that evening, the wetter I got. I knew that I must smell like a freshly fucked whore and that idea made it worse entirely. Mistress would push my sticky, saturated panties in my mouth while she did her weekly inspection, and my mind would start down the path to pure euphoria immediately.
I had belonged to her for four months now. I didn't sign a slave contract like modern kink books described. I didn't wear a leather or metal collar locked around my neck, wrist, ankle or ring finger, but the day after my initial indoctrination, I knelt at her feet and pledged myself to her for as long as she would have me. When she'd undone my restraints the night before and held, stroked and treasured me for a good long while, I begged her to use me again. My once tight box was sore and red as I knelt on the finished basement floor, but I was hooked on the feeling, as they say.
I slid in the driver's side of my posh car at the end of the day and let the warm leather touch my bare ass cheeks under my skirt, which I'd hiked up after getting inside. I knew I couldn't masturbate while I drove, so I wiggled my thighs back and forth against the seat and let the juices flow as they would. I was so ready to be bound and fucked into my glory that my cheeks were pink with the blush not only of arousal, but slight humiliation. After a month in her care, my Mistress had turned me from a trolling pseudo-Domme with men into a complete and wanton sex whore for anyone She decided would use my holes for Her pleasure. There were rules of course; she screened carefully, and I trusted her implicitly with my safety and health, but I never balked at the number of people or the manner in which they insinuated themselves into me. I ached for it daily as a matter of fact. After two months, I could barely think of anything but the end of the week and the few days that She would spread me open and violate me in the most invasive and vulgar ways any woman could be used. At the end of three months, I couldn't imagine a life without her in it and I had seriously considered giving up my job to be her 24/7 sex slave. She convinced me to keep working and would only see me on weekends unless I did so. The anticipation was intentional of course, but I could hardly bear it.
As I drove up the long driveway, my imagination churned with all the possibilities that might befall me that night and into the weekend. My Goddess had me on a stretching regiment for the past 3 months on the days that I was not with her and her harem. I'd worked up to the point where I could insert a large "Kong" doggie toy deep inside my sloppy and engorged gash to wear overnight. I would wake each morning in a puddle of my own cum from the constant stretching of my body and domination of my soul. I would spend a good half an hour after I woke each morning taking pictures of my cunt in each stage; wet with the toy inside, spread open with the toy peeking just at the edge of my throbbing hole and finally the progress of my gape after the toy was all the way out. I would then send Her all the pictures. Then I would film myself scooping the cum up with my fingers and feeding it to myself, sending her the resulting snippet for Her approval. I wasn't allowed to touch my clit during these sessions, which made my need severe and my craving for Her never-ending.
I ached to have Her inside of me in every way possible; fisting, toys, or whatever slaves or Bulls She chose to use all my holes during the times when She opted for that path. Most weekends however, She wanted me all to Herself and she spent hours seated between my bound, outstretched thighs with her hands inside me and her mouth suckling my growing lips and clit. Or she bound me with my calves tied to my thighs and then a rope pulling at my knees until my cunt was so overtly pushed out that it seemed to be all that I was. In this position, she would start slowly, nipping my spread open pussy lips with her teeth; not hard, but enough that it made me gush with cum, then when she finally got to my clit, she would stroke it until it stood up huge and proud, wrap it in silk embroidery thread until it throbbed and slip an electronic probe onto it connected to a tens unit. As I writhed and my girl cum leaked out, she would insert another probe deep into my urethra and fuck me until I squirted pee and cum simultaneously.
She consumed my waking thoughts, daydreams, and sexual fantasies. I wanted nothing more than to be Her little fuck doll and everything She did reinforced those thoughts. Never in a million years would I have been able to predict this level of servitude as my source of comfort, but the longer I belonged to Her, the more committed I became to serving Her every need.
I parked my car around the back of the house and walked into the basement playroom where She had first aroused, enticed and Dominated me. I left my short silk skirt and crème see-through blouse, as well as the sheer bra I wore to work that day hanging in the anteroom which was outfitted with storage cubicles and cupboards. I slipped out of my high-heeled pumps and entered the space where all my dreams and fantasies were coming true on a weekly basis. I knelt just inside the opening, spread my knees and rested my hands, palm up on my thighs. I knew my cunt was gushing in anticipation and my sheer matching g-string panties were soaked through yet again.
As I sat there, eyes closed, I recounted some of our early sessions; the first time she pumped my nipples and clit with vacuum cylinders, making them so very tender, sore and sensitive. Stretching me first with the pear of anguish, which she introduced my achy cunt to on the very first night, then graduating to inflatable dildoes, left in for hours at a time while she tormented my pumped and sensitive nipples with wartenburg pinwheels, steel clothespins and finally heavy, steel clover clamps. My cunt was so tender by the time each weekend was over I had a tough time sitting still each Monday morning, yet the pull to be back on the gyno table again only hours after the last session ended played over my psyche for the rest of the week. She was "Mistress" in the beginning, just as She had been for the other loves in her life until she graduated to "Goddess" as trust and lust grew in equal measure during the last month.
