(This is a memoir from our slave Norma. Based on actual events and several lust letters and conversations with her and rewritten as a first person narrative for more enjoyable reading)
"I could make it an order."
That was all he needed to say. It meant it already was and I would obey or be severely punished.
But it wasn't the fear of that that made me obey. It was my contract, made as much with myself as with him, to be his slave.
I took it quite seriously. Since accepting his collar I had never refused him, or his beautiful Venezuelan wife, anything.
I made myself available for them to use whenever and however they chose.
She had returned to South America for the last few months and I was used for my Master's pleasure 2 or 3 times a week in her absence. Though I belonged to both of them, she was also his slave and their relationship was not just Master and slave but Sadist and masochist as well.
I was never sure whether it was some innate enjoyment of pain that motivated her or, like me, she had been conditioned to it as a source of sexual arousal. I certainly didn't like pain when we started but my training and frequent use by the two them had made me now enjoy it, made me now look forward to it.
It came, usually, with powerful orgasms. But these were generally used as a form of torture rather than for my enjoyment. Since I was forbidden to cum without permission I was often taken to the edge and held there for as long as it pleased my Dominant. This might be minutes, hours, or, on more than one occasion, days.
I'll give you an example of the latter which was unusual and I'm pretty sure done just to be unpredictable and make sure I never took my release for granted.
I was shocked the first time it happened. It was our first session after the completion of my three day training. We had spent the whole night getting high and fucking. Master had whipped and caned and fucked Lu and I both. I had serviced them both with my mouth and they had both had several orgasms.
I was, by the time the sun rose, incredibly turned on. My pussy ached with hunger. My clit, which had been teased with fingers, tongues, and a powerful vibrator, was swollen and so sensitive that when Lu blew warm air across it I had to struggle to keep from cumming. After assisting Master to give my Mistress a string of multiple orgasms and then being fucked roughly in the ass I watched enviously as he pulled out of me and ejaculated his delicious semen into her mouth.
This was usually the time when if I was going to be allowed to, I was taken care of. On this morning both Lu and I had work in a few hours so we all crawled into their bed for a little rest. I lay between them where, in the past, they had slowly teased and tormented me to a mind-blowing orgasm or three.
But this time I was left untouched as they turned their backs to me and drifted off to sleep. After an exhaustive night of sex and drugs and BDSM that was not uncommon. But while they rested I wrestled with unrequited lust. And had I been allowed to I would have eagerly traded 100 strokes of a cane or riding crop, enough that I would have been bleeding and in tears, for a single orgasm. I forced myself to lay still to let them rest but found none for myself. And when, after what seemed like both an eternity and a few seconds, the alarm went off and Lu got up to go to work, it became clear that I was to spend the day unsated.
As Mistress and I got ready to go to work Master roused himself and told me, "I don't think I have to remind you that are not allowed to cum until we give you permission. You may touch yourself only enough to keep your cunt clean but that is all."
Of course I needed no reminder. I would obey and if, for some strange reason, I failed, I would admit it and accept any punishment they deemed appropriate.
Needless to say, I wasn't much use at work that day. Fortunately it wasn't a delivery day and I didn't have much to do. But that also meant I had nothing to distract me from my carnal needs. The many stripes beneath my clothes, the ones that I usually enjoyed as a post coital reminder, now just hurt. My cunt was sore but not in any way enjoyable.
The next day was in some ways better, that is, my whip marks had faded and didn't hurt. But my usual morning masturbation session had been denied and I knew it was going to be a very tiresome day.
But when the phone rang and I heard Mistress's sultry voice I brightened, hoping that she'd relent and let me cum. But those hopes were dashed.
Both she and Master were on the phone. Calling just to make sure I had obeyed.
Master asked whether I was still sore and when I assured him that I was and I had been obedient, he laughed cruelly and informed me that when he hung up he was going to have Mistress make herself cum while sucking his cock. He had only called to give me something to think about as I spent another day frustrated.
It worked. I spent the whole day picturing that scene and wanting desperately to be in her place.
Just before the end of the day he called me at work with these instructions, "When you get home you are to put clothespins on your nipples and clit. You may play with yourself but not cum. After one hour you are to call me and ask permission. If you've been a good girl I might let you."
Both Master and Mistress had been so completely unpredictable that I no longer tried to anticipate what words like that really meant. He was just as likely to not let me cum as to say, "Okay, slave. You've been a good girl. You may cum...once."
I knew just how much my suffering excited and aroused them and how they liked to hear it in my voice. While I have admit that I was in some cases over-emoting, most of the time the tone and tenor of my pleas was entirely genuine.
It was a delicate tightrope upon which I tread. I truly did enjoy being a sexslave and was more than willing to pay for that honor with my pain. I knew it was a vicious circle; that the more I turned them on, the more they might want to inflict torture and the more they tormented me the more turned on they became.
Master was not only a Dominant, he was openly a Sadist. He freely admitted that he was aroused by inflicting pain on a willing subject. The sex of the masochist was unimportant. More than once I had been made to suck off a boy while he was spanked, paddled, and fucked roughly in the ass by Master.
So I knew that when I called him after that hour, balanced on the razor-thin edge of orgasm and my tits and cunt in agony, he might just tell me to wait another day.
The bus trip home from work seemed to take forever and the first thing I did after closing my bedroom door was fetch three wooden clothespins from my bedside table. Hurriedly I shrugged off my coat and popped a button as I took off my blouse. I glanced at the clock as I pushed the cups of my bra down to get the clamps on even before I undid the hooks in the back to get it off. It was 6:44, less than an hour since he'd called.
My skirt and panties were quickly pushed to the floor and I raised one foot and placed it on the edge of my bed. The movement caused the ones on my nipples to quiver painfully but that didn't matter. Spreading my pussy lips with one hand I positioned the two pieces of wood and let them close on my still sore and swollen clitoris. I physically shook from the sudden intense pain and was barely able to make myself collapse on the bed instead of the floor.
I lay on my side and forced myself to breathe slowly as I adjusted to the three cruelly biting pins. I closed my eyes and surrendered to Master's pain. It filled my consciousness and I imagined him standing at the foot of the bed savoring my agony as he stroked his cock.
Rolling onto my back my fingers found the two on my nipples and tugged and twisted. "Master..." I whispered, "Oh, Master..."
My clit by then was demanding my attention and my left hand moved down across my belly and the moist curls of my pubic hair. I didn't touch it or the clothespin. My fingers teased the area all around it just as he liked to do. It ached by the time I accidentally brushed the back of my hand against the wood and I felt my whole body vibrate. Whispering again to my imagined lover, "Master... it hurts... so... much..."
But no matter how much it did it also aroused my aching lust.
I flicked a finger across the ends of the clothespin and knew that having to hold back my orgasm for another hour was going to be worse than the pain emanating from that spot.
I persisted, wanting to be able to tell Master that I had been his good girl. I used both hands to pull the nipple clamps away from my body and at their limit twisted them while my belly muscles convulsed with the pain. I moved down to my cunt and pushed three fingers of my right hand inside and then pushed the first two fingers of my left into my ass and alternated thrusts between them. Though I wasn't touching the one crushing my clit the movement of my hands was making it shake and transmit electric bolts of agony outward.
Unwelcome thoughts managed to briefly flash into my mind such as, "How had I become such a pain slut? Was I really such a bit of filth that I was only good for being cruelly abused?" I pushed them as quickly from my mind as I could. Not because it bothered me but because I had learned that such distractions might make me lose control of the orgasm bubbling just below the surface.
As it was I had to stop often and concentrate on containing it. It didn't help that during those moments I usually pictured my Owners smiling and laughing at my discomfort. I loved seeing that. I loved knowing that I was bringing the two of them such pleasure through my suffering and that added to my threatening orgasm.
I could have sworn that the clock by my bed had either stopped or was running backwards as the end of the hour grew closer.
