How I Met My Master

"Noooooooooooooooooooo!" That was the sound of me heading for trouble. Little did I know how sweet, how thrilling and how so sinfully satisfying this new trouble would be.

Looking back now, I don't really remember what it was that I had been yelling about. Not that it matters. All that matters is that my penchant for wagering had landed me in soup once again. I had lost. Not money, of course. To me, betting money wasn't betting at all. I never got any kicks out of winning money and certainly got none out of losing it.

My idea of thrill was being made to do something I would never do if I weren't forced to. Something that a very small part of me wanted to very desperately do, and something that my conscience and upbringing and all the rest of that would never let me do. Oh, I suppose anyone who has ever googled the word BDSM will know what I mean.

Eight o'clock that evening saw me standing with my 3 roommates Sarah, Michelle, & Anna in an internet café. Sarah was in-charge of the café part-time, and as this was her shift, there would be no trouble obtaining a free booth. Michelle had a tote bag with her, containing all the items stipulated in the bet, 'and then some', she said, with a naughty wink. Anna, the one whose idea this had been, was doing the talking. As for me, I was listening, gulping, sputtering, and saying 'WHAT?!' every now and then. My normally peaches-and-cream skin had turned beet red, partly with shame and partly with an unnamed but pleasantly tingly feeling. It was only when I shifted uncomfortably on my feet I became aware of the wetness in my lace panties, and was faintly surprised that I could be feeling so much aroused in such a situation.

I had, in the past, done a few naughty things like going out without my underwear on, or with a vegetable up my ass, but I always scurried back to the apartment at the slightest hint of danger. My desire to be controlled continually warred with my sense of propriety, and the girls knew that. And going by what they were proposing, they were going to do something about it.

Suddenly I became aware that Anna had finished talking. With a brisk "Off you go, now", she pushed me into the booth. Michelle handed me the tote bag, and rested one hand on my arm. I thought she meant to reassure me, but the busty blonde lightly brushed her index finger over my thin t-shirt and found my right nipple, sending electric tingles of pleasure running all over my body. Goosebumps began to form on my skin as her fingernail relentlessly pressed and scratched the hapless nipple, torturing it into standing up hard and straight. I opened my mouth to moan but she cut me off, saying "Thirty minutes only. Don't waste any of it!" And then I was pushed into the empty booth with the tote bag. The door clicked shut.

30 MINUTES

I quickly sat down, logged into a chat room and began to type:

Hi. I am a co-ed on a dare. I am sitting in a booth in a public internet café, and I have with me a tote bag that contains 3 candles, a matchbox, 5 clothespins and a hairbrush. For the next half an hour in I am to be controlled by anyone who wishes to take control of me. I will become your slut, your slave, your plaything. I will be utterly obedient to what you say and powerless to object. I am NOT to cum before the half-hour is up; else I will end up losing the dare. Please help!

Soon I was attacked by a barrage of private messages from people asking for my phone number, wanting to know if I was demented, and so-on. The minutes were ticking by and I wasn't getting anywhere. I retyped my message twice and shut my eyes in despair. God alone knew what deviltry awaited me if I were to fail in this. Michelle's playful tweak at my nipple reasserted itself in my mind and I opened my eyes, smiling.

There was a short, crisp message waiting for me:

What are you wearing, slut?

There was something about the sentence that arrested my attention. Something commanding and terrifying and yet strangely thrilling. I answered:

A maroon zip-up t-shirt and a tight black skirt. Matching black lace underwear.

Tell me what you look like. In detail. Leave nothing out.

I am 21 years old, and my vital stats are 36-26-38. I have long, silky dark hair that I am wearing in a pony-tail now, and jet black eyes. My lips & nipples are pink, and when they get aroused my nipples become puffy and hard, and stick out prominently. And I keep my pussy hair neatly trimmed.

I could think of nothing else to add.

Slaves don't have pussies. They have cunts.

It was a word I'd never contemplated before, not for myself. It came like a cold bucket of water in the face. I shivered. And deep down, I knew exactly what I was going to answer without having ever thought about it. Without being told.

Yes, Master.

Slip a finger in your cunt, slave, and tell Master what it feels like.

I knew what it would feel like. I could feel the heat and the squishiness that had been developing rapidly in the last few minutes. Hesitantly, I slipped a finger up my skirt and into my panties, and gasped as my hot, pulsing hole clenched around the cold intruder. Then I realised he hadn't said whether I could remove the finger. I would have to type one-handed.

Your slave's cunt is hot, tight and wet, Master

.

Are you aroused, slave?

More than I expected to be, Master.

You are going to strip. Now.

I sat, shell-shocked, as the full implication of the dare that I had accepted sank into me. Goosebumps formed on my arms and legs and my face flushed a deep crimson.

Zip down your t-shirt and pull it aside, so that it is well clear of your breasts. Push your bra up and above your tits, without unhooking it. Wiggle out of the skirt completely, get up, lay it on the seat of your chair, and sit back down. Push your panties down to your ankles and spread your knees as wide as you can. If your chair has arms, drape each of your legs over an arm. You have 60 seconds. Go.

I scrambled. When I was done, when I was lewdly displayed in accordance with the whim of an unknown person, I typed back.

Done, Master. Your every whim has been explicitly obeyed.

Good girl. Now back goes the finger into my slut's cunt.

I slid it back in. My cunt accepted it, sucked it in hungrily and sloppily. And asked for more.

Does it turn you on, sitting in a public place where anyone could walk in at any time, and having your cunt invaded by a finger? Knowing that you are helpless to remove it until I command you to?

It does, Master. My clit is aching to be touched. It's all I can do not to moan…

Moan, then... Let out a moan to show anyone who might be listening that you are a slutty whore who likes to sit in cafes chatting with utter strangers and moaning with sexual pleasure whenever she's commanded to.

I never even thought about it. Not for a second. If my mind knew that to moan now would be humiliating, embarrassing, the ultimate step in submitting to a stranger and degrading myself for him, then it chose to disregard that information. I threw back my head and moaned softly.

A pair of sneaker-clad feet stopped abruptly on its way past my cubicle. I hadn't latched the door on the inside, so all he had to do was turn the handle and walk in, and he'd be treated to a sight he wasn't likely to forget in a hurry. Please God, I pleaded silently, though I didn't quite know what I was pleading for. The fact that I was so close to being discovered frightened me and fascinated me at the same time.

Finally, as if to put an end to my torment, the feet moved onwards, and exited. I turned my attention to the screen once more.

That's enough games, bitch. How many minutes left?

I looked at the clock, and was shocked to see that I had..

..Only 12 minutes left, Master..

Pick up two of the clothespins and clamp one each to your inner thighs, about 3 inches below your cunt.

I did. The sharp teeth of the clothespins bit mercilessly into the creamy, smooth skin of my thighs. It took all I had to keep from groaning. My clit throbbed even harder, begging to be touched, and I knew that with a little help from the finger that was in my cunt, I would cum. And I knew that he knew.

Take your finger out, you fucking whore. One measly finger doesn't even begin to satisfy that slutty cunt of yours, does it?

No, Master.

Master's whore wants to be fucked raw by a cock like a baseball bat, doesn't she?

Ohhhhhh, yes, Master.

I'd tease those pink tits of yours too, working my tongue in circles around them, twisting and rolling them with my fingers and then biting down hard on each one in turn, until they learned who their Master was.

My nipples looked up at this, and stood to attention for Him. The image of him touching and teasing my sensitive buds sent an electric buzz through my nipples and made me ache to touch them.

What I have in mind for your clit is to endlessly rub it and flick it and bite into it and fondle it, but never once allow you to cum.

A shiver ran through me as my clit reacted to those words, and a fresh slew of juices flooded my cunt. The urge to reach down and finish myself off was very strong, but I knew He would not approve, so I closed my eyes and rode out the sensation. But the 'ping' of the messenger summoned me back to reality.

Insert that wet finger into your mouth. As far as it can go. Lick it clean and tell Master what his slut tastes like.

I had never really done that before, and I hesitated as I brought my hand up towards my face. Just then, my nose caught the aroma of my juices, heady and musky, and I knew that this was something worth tasting. I plunged my finger deep into my mouth, and drew it back out across my tongue.

It tastes salty and musky and exotic. It tastes like.. a bitch in heat, Master.

That's my girl. Now look down at your nipples. Tell me what they are like.

Completely in the spell of this mysterious man by now, I looked down.. Beneath my obscenely pushed up bra, I could see my breasts, big and juicy and firm. My aureoles had always been big, and now..

My pink nipples are jutting out proudly, more aroused than I have ever seen them, Master. They are hard and puffy and are sticking out like pencil erasers..

Two more clothespins. One on each nipple. And tug each nipple hard before you put them on. How many minutes left, slave?

I caught my left nipple between my thumb and forefinger, and pulled, hard. Waves of pleasure and pain chased each other through my body, and I clamped the clothespin on; and repeated the process for my other nipple. My body was awash with sensations I had never experienced before – the heightened sensation due to the pain made me aware of every nerve ending in my body tingling. I could barely think. I looked at the clock.

8 minutes more, Master..

End of part –I

Part 2

Clamp the final clothespin on your tongue, slut. And break out the candles. Tell me what size they are.

'Obscene' would hardly begin to describe what I looked and felt like now. Filthy? Degraded? Humiliated? I had a feeling the English language would have to come up with a whole new word to describe what I was going through.

They are all cylindrical. Their bases are broad and flat. The smallest is 3/4ths of an inch thick and 5 inches tall, the next one 3/4ths of an inch thick and 7 inches long, and the last one is around 2 inches thick and 8 inches in length, Master..

Then I'm sure you know which one to stuff into your greedy cunt, slut. Do it.

I gulped. The big one was not plain; it was ridged, its surface like a series of speedbreakers touching each other. My eyes widened as it went in, wick end first. Each little bump on the candle rubbed across my painfully erect clit, torturing it further and further until my knees began to shake with the beginnings of an orgasm. I was going to type back, begging, pleading to cum, but he nipped me in the bud.

You are not to cum at any cost, slut. Stop for a while if you feel it coming, and tug on each of the 5 clothespins. Not gently.

I pulled hard on the clothespins on my thighs, and the sharp pain stopped my knees from shaking. I quickly tried to push the candle all the way into my cunt, but the series of bumps hit my clit so fast and so hard that I cried out.. 'Mmmmmmfuck..'

I felt my toes curling again, so I flicked the clothespins attached to my tits and tongue. Tears stung my eyes, but this time I successfully inserted the candle all the way in.

Done, Master, but I only just managed it. I'd do anything to cum now.. Please, Master?

Someday I will dip my cock in wine and fuck your mouth with it. Would you like that?

Ohhh, yes, Master.. I would love to worship your cock with my mouth.. The image is driving me crazy, Master..

That's my slut. Now, insert the longer of the two remaining candles in your mouth. Tell Master how it feels.

The candle is all the way in, and it's all my poor throat can take, Master.. The wick is gently tickling my tonsils, mmmhh.. The candle is also pressing down on the clothespin on my tongue..

I believe you have three minutes left, slut. Insert the remaining candle in your ass.

It was a plain, thin candle. I scooted down in the chair to get better access to my asshole, and inserted the wick end into my ass. My tight sphincter grabbed hold of the candle, which fortunately wasn't very thick, and as I fed it in inch by inch it finally settled in my ass quite easily. However, its lack of girth was more than compensated for by the monster in my pussy. The two-inch-thick candle stretched the walls of my cunt with its incredible thickness, and I could feel the membrane of my pussy being rubbed by the thick ridged candle on one side and by the candle in my ass on the other side.

Master, here I am, sitting in the booth of a public café, the door of which is not even latched. If anyone came in right now, they would see a buxom brunette splayed out on a chair, jacket pushed aside, tits hanging out below her bra, skirtless, her panties around her ankles, and her legs draped wide over the arms of the chair. Clothespins attached lewdly to her breasts, inner thighs, and tongue, and ever orifice penetrated by a fat, long candle. I think I will go mad if I don't cum right away.

Hush, my slut. Only two more minutes left. Hold on. I know you can.

Just then, the door opened, and in walked Sarah, Anna & Michelle. For an instant all three of them just stood there, looking at me, unable to believe their eyes. And then, simultaneously, all three of them burst into applause! I felt a warm glow steal over me, and as the girls let out whoops of encouragement I became conscious that I was blushing from head to toe.

However, things seldom stayed the way they were for even two minutes when these three girls were involved. Michelle quickly stepped forward and began to twiddle with the ridged candle in my pussy. She roughly thrust it in and out, taking care to make maximum contact with my poor tortured clit. Anna reached into the tote bag that had contained the candles & the clothespins and brought out a hairbrush. With a wicked grin, she started raining light stinging blows all over my breasts, concentrating on hitting the clothespins, and I groaned as I knew that I would be unable to take the combined impact of them both. Sarah had taken over the keyboard and was typing.

We are 3 of your slut's roommates, Sir, and we applaud you for the wonderful way in which you have brought out the true submissive in her. However, as she has only two minutes left, and her winning the dare would be soooo boring, we have taken matters into our own hands. Michelle is fucking her with the ridged candle in her pussy, taking good care that her clit doesn't get a moment's respite, and Anna is giving your slut's tits a good looking-after with a hairbrush.

Hello, my dears. It's nice to see that my whore has friends who take such excellent care of her. However, she has been an excellent plaything for the last half-hour, and I'm sure she will not come in the remaining 60 seconds.

Slut, we are almost there. Do not disappoint me.

I knew I must not let him down, and I clenched my hands into fists, trying to block out the overwhelmingly desperate need for release. The clock seemed to take forever to mark off each second. Five agonising seconds passed, then ten. It seemed like I was looking at myself from afar, in slow motion, seeing but not feeling Michelle fucking my cunt with the candle, and Anna's relentless attention to my tits.

Half a minute more, slut. Prove yourself worthy of me.

And then, suddenly, Sarah's cell-phone burst into sound. The tone was loud and strident, and it was accompanied by the sinful buzz of the vibrator. A wicked I-have-an-idea grin spread across her face as she turned completely towards me. With a whispered "Sorry, sweetheart, you lose", she held the buzzing monster against my clit.

That was all it took. I came crashing back to the realm of sensation, as my juices began to flood the chair. My knees bucked violently and I let out a shout that almost brought the entire café crashing down on our heads. I was dimly aware of someone removing the clothespins from my breasts, thighs and tongue, and as the blood came flooding back, another wave of pain and pleasure tore through me and I slid to the floor, bringing my legs closer together and bucking my hips as Michelle expertly humped me with both the candles in my pussy and my ass. Wave after wave of orgasmic bliss washed through me as Sarah started fucking my mouth with the candle, and Anna flicked my clit expertly and repeatedly.

I don't know how long I was in that state of pure, sheer pleasure, but my body soon gave up trying to cope with what had happened, and I was led gently from the whirlpool of sensation to a serene, floating cloud. I closed my eyes and slept.

When I came to, I found that I had been propped up in a sitting position against a wall. The various things that had been on & in me were all gone, and I was sitting completely naked. I could feel my pussy juices in a puddle under me, and there were wet patches here and there on the carpet. The whole room smelt unmistakably of sex. I looked up to see the three girls towering over me. Sarah and Michelle were grinning broadly, and Anna had an unmistakable look of lust on her face. "We are so proud of you!" they chorused. I grinned back, weakly.

"Nice show, babe!" said Michelle. "And by the way, we told your Master in detail about how you came like a tidal wave. He said to tell you that he was really pleased with your performance, and that though you need some training, you had the makings of a first-rate slave."

"You've still lost the bet, however," Sarah took over. "This means we'll give you an even tougher dare. Your Master suggested that you should be made to expose yourself to five strangers, in public places, over the course of a week. We've given him your email id. He'll be in touch."

"Pick yourself up. Five minutes. We'll be in the car" said Anna, as she playfully ran her foot along my leg, winked at me, and sauntered out with the others.

And that was that.

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