Jenn's Journey

(Most of the names/place names are changed and the dialogue is from memory. Other than that, this is based on my own true story. The story makes more sense if you start at the beginning.)

*

For almost two weeks I went back and forth in my mind. Was it true? Am I a naturally submissive woman as Francis had implied? Am I hungry for it?

He didn't tell me much about what I would be doing. Whoring. Being controlled and humiliated. Submitting to other women. There were so many questions. How could I choose to pursue a life that I know so little about? What if I were given a task that I were completely unable or unwilling to do?

At one point I had completely decided against it. There's no way I can dive into a lifestyle like the one he proposed -- willing to accept any task, sexual or otherwise, as a command. It occurred to me that as I contemplated these things I always found my hands wandering, touching myself as I thought about it.

What did that mean? That I was meant for it?

It was the day that Francis was to show up and I had but a few hours to make a decision.

I stood naked in my room. I had already showered, fixed my hair and makeup. I stared at the present he'd given me a few weeks ago at his office and remembered his words.

"If you are interested in pursuing this lifestyle, answer the door in the outfit I've enclosed," he had said in such a sure voice. "If you're not interested, then simply don't."

I had looked at the outfit days ago. A very sexy red blouse that was perfectly cut to show off my tits, a tight leather micro-skirt that hung only a few centimeters past my ass and a pair of 6-inch red heals.

I can put the outfit on and still back out, I thought to myself. I took a deep breath and began putting it on.

I wanted him and would do anything to please.

Considering my figure, I'd never felt comfortable in such trampy outfits, but these seemed to fit me perfectly in all the right places. The shirt perfectly displayed my tits, the skirt was not an inch too loose or too tight, even the shoes were perfectly sized. I wondered how much he'd sized me up over the last few months in order to get my measurements so exact.

I stared at myself in the mirror, wondering what the night would hold. When Francis propositioned me, he spoke of three initiation task I would have to complete in order to become his slave. What would they be? Would they start tonight? I wondered to myself about a lot of things.

A slave is tattooed, he had told me.

How willing would I be to bend over and allow his insignia to be permanently inked onto me as Mel had. I touched myself as I thought of the prospect and checked myself out in the mirror.

Mel was a knockout. I was only 5 feet 2 inches and weighed 284 pounds. Even though I was big, my tits were only a C cup and my belly stuck out further than they did. I was younger, having just turned 18 a few months prior. But still, why did he even want me when he has women like her, I wondered silently.

My phone suddenly rang and startled me out of my self critique.

"Hello," I said. It was my mother.

"Jenn -- are you at home?"

"Yes, just getting dressed."

"Good. I'm running behind and I think Francis is on his way over. Could you let him in?"

"Of course," I said, instantly struck with the guilt that can only come to a daughter who's planning to steal her mom's boyfriend.

"Thanks, hun. I should be there in a few hours."

* * * *

I sat in the living room and watched the front door in the outfit he'd provided. Finally, the doorbell rang. I took a deep breath and answered.

Francis was standing in the door way with a smile on his face as the door swung open.

"I see you've made a good decision," he said. I could tell that my choice to put on the outfit didn't surprise him in the least. He was extremely confident, even when he first approached me.

He walked through the door, stepped into the kitchen, and shut the door behind him.

"You're sure about this?" he asked.

"Yes Sir," I replied. He smiled at how quickly I picked up the etiquette.

"Put your hands behind your back, stick your chest out and focus your eyes straight forward," he instructed.

I did as he asked. I felt him tap my thighs apart slightly.

"Legs slightly apart," he said. "All parts of you need to be accessible."

"This is known as inspection," he explained. "When a dominant calls for inspection you'll need to take this position. Don't speak unless spoken to and don't make eye contact."

"Yes Sir," I said, staring straight ahead.

He walked around me, rubbing his hands along my waist and belly. Finally his hands moved upward along the seems on the side of my blouse, towards my tits. Then he stopped and abruptly raised my shirt, revealing the black lacy bra I worn underneath.

"Hmmm. Was this bra in the package I gave you?"

"No Sir," I replied.

"Was there any bra in the package?" he asked.

"No Sir," I replied.

"Then should you be wearing it?"

"No Sir, I'm sorry," I said, my voice cracking slightly.

"It's OK. It's your first day."

He walked toward the kitchen counter, reached into the drawers below and pulled out a pair of scissors.

"You believe you're up to this task, Jenn?"

"Yes Sir," I responded, still standing there as he had instructed with my shirt pulled up and my bra exposed.

"Good," he said. "Because if that's the case you're not going to need this anymore."

He pulled the bra up a bit, slid the scissor blades between it and my skin and cut it off where the cups came together in the middle. My pussy began to get wet as my tits were exposed to him. He then used the scissors to cut off the shoulder straps and pull the remains of the tattered bra off me.

Next he pulled up my skirt and discovered a pair of panties that he had not included in the box.

He didn't speak, only used the scissors to cut them off as well. He picked up the destroyed bra and panties and threw them away. I stood there, both my skirt and shirt pulled up, exposed and completely under his control. I'm not sure if it was fear or arousal but I dared not move or attempt to halt what had transpired so far.

"From now on, I'll be picking out your clothing," he said. "And that means you don't wear anything under your clothes unless told otherwise. Understood?"

"Yes Sir," I said.

I stared straight ahead as he had asked. His hands rubbed up and down my body, finally reaching my pussy. He rubbed my clit with his index finger, then moved backward and slid it in and out of my sopping pussy for a few seconds. Finally, he grabbed me, slightly rough, by my pubic hair.

"We'll also have to get rid of this," he said, before letting go.

He paused for a moment. Then walked behind me and pulled something else out of the drawer.

"Do you want to continue," he asked.

"Yes Sir."

"Good," he said. He reached into his pocket and handed me a business card with an address handwritten on it.

"Your first initiation task starts with going to this address and knocking on the door."

At that moment he stopped talking and used a marker he'd pulled from the drawer to write the words "Stall 3" across my tits.

"When the door man ask you for identification, you show him that. He'll take care of the rest."

My mouth dropped open. I tried to speak -- so many questions -- but he stopped me short.

"No questions Jenn. It's about trust. You can follow instructions or don't."

He stared for a second, knowing exactly which I would choose.

"Now go. I will be along eventually," he said.

* * * *

The address he'd given me was in a part of downtown I rarely ventured to, but it was easy enough to find the street. I parked my car in the huge empty lot outside of some run down industrial looking buildings. There was not a person in sight but I could hear music thumping. The address I was looking for hung clearly above a metal door adjacent to the lot.

The music got louder as I approached but I wasted no time trying to get in.

I rapped on the door for only a second and a viewing window slid open.

"Your clearance?" the doorman said.

I did as Sir Francis had asked and raised up my shirt, baring my breast and the words he'd had penned on me. I remember thinking it was a big deal at the time but I didn't let it show. Besides, I wanted off this deserted, creepy and dark street.

The door swung open and a few large men stood by. Behind them I could see through a doorway, dozens of people, drinking, dancing and conversing. Some wore mask, others did not. Some were fully dressed, others were completely naked. I gasp a bit as I saw two women on the floor together near the bar, a group gathering around to watch them have sex on the floor.

"Your first time here?" the doorman asked.

I nodded, still in a state of disbelief.

He reached for a phone on the wall. "No. 3's replacement is here," he said into it. He pointed me down the hallway that led away from the main dance floor -- "Service entrance," he said, having to shout a bit over the music. "Mel is down the hall, she'll tell you where to go."

I walked down the hallway and the music got a bit softer. Mel stood in the front of a dressing room wearing a cupless black corset and matching thong panties. I had only met her once but remembered how nice it was to see a familiar face. She smiled a bit and I could tell she knew what I was going through.

"So you accepted," she asked.

"Of course," I said.

"In here," Mel said, motioning me into the dressing room. "Sir said you still needed some prep before you go in."

"Prep for what," I asked. "What am I doing?"

"Sir didn't tell you," she asked.

She sat for a quiet minute and thought. "If he didn't say, then I'm sure I'm not at liberty to tell you."

My heart slipped into my stomach a bit more. I was afraid about what was to happen next but so aroused by the mystery and setting that I couldn't bare the thought of stopping it. Mel closed the door and motioned me to sit on a high seat, with stirrups.

"What I can tell you is that Sir wants you shaved beforehand. Take off your clothes, sit."

I did as she asked, putting my legs in the stirrups. Mel rubbed her hand threw my pubic hair, past my pussy hole and up my ass crack. I flinched a bit, not used to having any woman touch me in those ways.

"It's OK," she said. "Just a lot to clean up down here."

She reached for a tray that sat on a nearby table and began gathering her tools: shaving foam, scissors and a straight blade razor. She used the scissors first, cutting back some of the longer hair. Finally she began foaming me and using the straight razor. I was nervous at first but relaxed as we started to talk. I remember telling her how skilled she was.

"It's something I've practiced over and over," she said. "Many of the Dominant ladies request me by name when they need shaved or waxed."

As she continued we talked more about what was expected of me, how she found the lifestyle, her role in Sir Francis' world.

She was about halfway through, moving from my pussy to my ass crack with her blade when the dressing room door abruptly swung open. Mel looked up, then immediately set her blade back down on the tray and bowed her head as two women walked into the room. The younger of the two, probably in her mid-20s, was clad in a two-piece red leather outfit that showed off her abs. She wore high heels and a large black strap-on dildo hung off her waste.

She was blonde, with stunningly beautiful green eyes. But -- as I was about to learn -- she had a mean streak that wasn't too be matched.

The other woman was older, wearing a somewhat conservative black dress. The lower half of her face was covered by a black veil, similar to what you'd see on a gypsy or belly dancer. There was something immediately familiar about her but I couldn't place it. She stood in the doorway, saying nothing.

The younger woman stepped into the room and Mel began kissing her strap on. She reached down and petted her on the head like an animal. I sat frozen, naked with my legs still spread and my pussy covered in shaving cream as the young woman looked me over with a somewhat disgusted look on her face.

"Is this heifer ready yet," she asked Mel, staring me straight in the eye.

"No ma'am," she replied.

She continued to look at me. I still didn't know what to say.

"Avert your eyes," she said to me harshly.

I did as she told, not wanting to draw anymore of her wrath.

"Get her finished up," she said to Mel. "I need her in 10 minutes, otherwise I'm putting you out there and you can explain it to Francis."

She walked out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her. We each sat in an awkward silence for a few seconds as Mel picked up her tools and began working again.

"And now you've met Kim," she said finally. "She's one of the cruelest Dommes you will come across."

"I see," I said softly, still shaking off what had just happened.

"Don't let her scare you away from the life," Mel said. "She's harsh but you just have to do as she commands and accept it. Believe it or not she's earned her place serving Mistress Kat. Kim is rare in that she's a Domme to everyone, but a slave to her."

"Mistress Kat was the woman with her," I asked.

"You catch on quickly" Mel said, confirming my guess.

She used her blade to make a few final passes.

"Mistress Kat owns the club," she said. "Kim is her steward, does most of the managerial work around here. It's rare that we would even see Mistress Kat down here, she's quite mysterious and usually stays in the VIP area."

I took a deep breath as she finished, then wiped the area clean with a towel. Not a single hair remained. She used her index finger to run along my ass crack to check one final time.

Next she stood up and used a soapy towel and washed Francis' words off my chest. After a few moments of scrubbing the marker had all but disappeared.

"OK," Mel said. "Showtime."

* * * *

I walked back into the hallway completely naked. Kim was standing just outside of the dressing room, near some stairs that led downward.

"This way," Kim said, motioning down the stairs.

The music thumped louder as I followed her. When we got to the end of the stairs we entered a huge room with black walls and a ceiling made of thick glass. We were below the club's main floor. Looking up through the glass, I could see people dancing, having sex and having drinks.

In the center of the room that Kim and I stood in were three square cages that were suspended a few feet above the floor by huge chains that went up into the main dance floor.

A naked man stood in one cage, a naked woman in the other. Both were dripping wet, wore collars and had their arms and legs extended, chained to the sides of their respective cages.

The third cage was open and empty.

"Here," Kim said, forcing a tiny, one-button remote into my hand. "This is your initiation, so you're allowed to back out if you choose. Hit this button if you want out."

"What am I supposed to be doing," I asked.

She slapped me hard across the face.

"Don't ask questions unless you're given permission," she said.

I remained silent, resisting the urge to hit the button already.

"Come," she said, leading me toward the open cage.

I stepped onto the wet and slippery cage floor and Kim wasted no time chaining my arms and legs to the sides of the cage just like the others. She walked away for a moment and began rooting through a storage chest just outside the cage. I stood there chained, naked with the remote in my hand. I tried to take stock, wondering what would happen next. Every fiber of my being wanted to push the button and go home.

But how could I?

Despite my situation I was still aroused, still intrigued by what might happen next.

I took solace in that thought. The fact that I was still interested may have meant that Francis was right, that I was a natural at this. And I still wanted to please him.

"Ah," I heard Kim say.

She stepped back into the cage with me and put a collar around my neck. Next I felt her slip a cheap, plastic pig snout over my nose.

"That's perfect," she said with an evil smile on her face. She stepped out of the cage and pushed the door closed.

"Don't worry," she said. "By the time you figure out the game, your shift will be over."

Just then I felt a drop of liquid from the dance floor above hit my cheek. I looked up and noticed that the ceiling of my cage was not glass but a metal grating on which several people were standing.

Kim walked away and I saw her pick up a phone in the hallway.

A few seconds later, I heard the DJ in the club above me announce over the intercom: "Ladies and Gentlemen, stall three is now occupied and with a brand new sub. Let's make her feel welcome."

* * * *

As minutes went by I felt more drops of liquid from above hit me -- sloshed drinks, sweat perhaps.

For a second I looked up trying to discern what was happening above me.

"Oh look at the curious one with the pig nose," I heard a man above me say. A second later I felt a drop of liquid hit my hair and heard the crowd above me laugh.

What was wrong with me, I thought. I'm pretty sure a guy just spat on me and I was aroused by it. What was inside me that made me not hit the button and call this off? Did Francis expect me to back out? Was this a test? I looked over at the other caged slaves and wondered how long they had been there to be as wet as they were. Was this their first night as well? What was the game that Kim had mentioned?

"30 minutes left folks," the DJ spoke over the intercom: "Which one of our guest needs the most attention."

I heard chants from above me but I couldn't make out what was being said. Then all of the sudden the floor above my cage began to clear. I looked up and saw a young woman being led across it, naked on a leash. A crowd began to gather around her as she got down on all fours above me. I looked up, fixated on her naked body. Then, a moment later came a man who started fucking her from behind. I watched for a moment, seeing the ecstasy in her eyes as the man pounded her cunt relentlessly for several minutes. As her body clinched he pulled his cock out of her, shooting his load onto the grated floor and eventually onto my waiting naked body. Before the drips could even cease another man was inside her. And then another. And then another.

I lost count after a while but there must have been a dozen men inside her during the next 30 minutes.

All of them finished in the same way, sliding their cock out of her and spilling their load onto me.

As I stood there the cum from above started to drench me. It dripped off my head onto my face and in my eyes. My hands were tied so I had no way of wiping my brow. What didn't land on my head caught my shoulders and began running down onto my tits and stomach as more and more men ejaculated through the grate and onto me. The top half of my body was beginning to be covered. My arms were angled down slightly, so that what ever landed on them ran towards my hands.

The crowd above me cleared and the woman was now kneeling over the grate, letting the cum that went inside her drip out and onto me. After a minute or so she moved off the grate and the crowd began to clear.

* * * *

"Alright everybody lets see who's had enough," the DJ said over the intercom:

With that I felt the cage jerk into motion. The chains that were attached to the top of each cage weren't just for decoration, it turns out. They were for moving the cage from the lower level to the club floor. My cell was in essence an elevator and I -- along with the other two slaves -- was on my way up.

The crowds gathered around us as the elevators drifted into the main dance floor. My heart raced when it slowly crept to a stop.

At the beginning of the day I wasn't even sure I was going to pursue the lifestyle. And then there I stood, completely naked, covered in cum and wearing a humiliating pig nose in front of hundreds of strangers.