Lesbian Slave Island

"Oh Lisa, you look sooo beautiful, so fit, and such beautiful skin!" praised Helen in a sincere, oozy voice. "See Lisa, already, I am already more open and feel almost released to share my feelings and thoughts. Funny how that is. A different social situation, and we can become more ourselves."

"Yes my owner, Mistress Helen," I smiled serenely, though my heart pounded with passion and emotion, "I dreamed of this happening, and it's almost instant now, like a switch. "Oh I love this, and you, though I tremble a little. This is now real. I am yours."

Sassa beamed, "This is so wonderful! And you know, when we get to our island paradise, this reality will be even more so."

We sat in warm silence a few moments, contemplating the bliss we have created.

"So," I began softly. "You have commanded your love slave to reveal more." I glanced down at my very revealed body, so glad I have worked so hard to make it as physically fit and near perfect. Helen smiled knowingly as our eyes met after hers too glanced at my wide open loins. "I must tell you my formerly secret fantasies, that I have afraid to even share, much less actually live out. I place my trust in you, my owners." My voice quavered during the last sentence, feeling vulnerable and emotional.

"You can trust us," smiled Helen in a soft voice. "Both to be lovingly sensitive and to make this fantasy very real."

"Oh Helen..."I almost moaned. "I mean, Oh my mistress, my owner!"

Helen glanced at Sassa. "Lisa told me about ways in some bdsm fantasies the slave is supposed to speak to her owner, formally with title. Maybe we should start that soon, but not now."

Sassa began to show her more strict side. "I think she should start now, to get in the right mode. You or we can always waive it for other times."

Helen nodded, "OK let's," she said, glancing at me for my reaction.

"As you wish, of course, my Owners," I whispered, both aroused by this and wondering how the reality may be much more difficult than my fantasies.

"My fantasies are many..where do I start? - I'll start small and simple and get to my more elaborate - ummm...more embarrassing- or I mean - umm - amazingly hot ones - ohhh, please help me - " I quickly added "my owners" then blushed deeply for both the thought of having to reveal my fantasies and because calling them my owners made it more real and humiliating. Helen helped by smiling and nodding encouragingly - "Slave girl, you have to, so don't be embarrassed though I love your blush - don't be embarrassed, because you have no choice. You must. That's the beauty of this situation."

"Yes, the beauty of the situation and the beauty of our slave girl." smiled Sassa.

I blushed more and smiled in appreciation. "And the beauty of my owners."

"Oh!" I breathed

"What?" asked Sassa. Why did you say "Oh?"

I looked down - "Calling you 'my owners' makes me humiliated and hot down there at the same time."

"Good that you opened up about that, lovely slave girl," said Helen with earnestness. "I love to know what you are feeling and thinking."

"Especially if it is about your being humiliated or aroused," winked Sassa with a surge of lust in her eyes.

"Slave girl, my love slave, now I order you to start by describing those two fantasies you already mentioned to me once, the stool and the chariot."

"Yes my owner," I replied seriously, looking down at my naked thighs and open, moist loins, and gathering my courage and thoughts. I resolved to fully share these fantasies, however I may tremble while doing so.

Unable to look into their eyes, I began:

"The stool fantasy is one that can be done indoors easily, and the chariot needs equipment, and ideally room to run outdoors." I swallowed, knowing I might experience the stool fantasy immediately.

"In the stool fantasy, a tall stool would have a phallus glued to the seat, sticking up. My wrists would be tied or chained together behind my back, ensuring I could not cover my front. Maybe my ankles would also be tied to the legs of the stool. I would be eased onto the stool with the phallus deep inside me, and my owner, or owners," I smiled toward Sassa without fully meeting her eyes, "would sit in front of me enjoying water or wine while talking with one another and me, sometimes simple conversation, sometimes asking me erotic, intimate questions; together we would imagine new humiliations, naked exercises, bondage ties, erotic tortures and services I could perform. The simple, normal conversation would be erotic because it would emphasize my sex slave status - the fact that we would have normal conversation as if we were regular friends, even while you would be fully clothed and I would be the only one naked, bound, exposed utterly, and struggling not to yield to arousal and orgasm. You would sometimes order me to slide up and down on the phallus, but never to the point of orgasm. My sex juices would drip, soaking the stool and trickling down my wide open legs and the legs of the stool. I might whimper in humiliated arousal. You would comment on the juices, humiliating me further. No matter how mindlessly and uncontrollably turned on I become, we would always return to our conversations." I paused.

Helen smiled at Sassa, eyes gleaming. "Isn't she erotic?"

Sassa nodded with a serious expression. "Slave, you are amazing. That is so hot."

I glanced up at them. I actually smiled to see their flushed faces. They loved this too, which meant my wildest dreams were to coming true.

I looked down, reveling in my fit, lean body, so exposed. I writhed a little in passion, thrusting out my middle, displaying my loins more, then back a little, then knees even wider. I looked up again - their eyes met mine, but only after moving up from staring at my nudity.

"Because I would be so incredibly aroused, I would actually come up with ideas myself for my own erotic humiliation and utter submission to you. And...not just humiliation..."

"Yes, go on, slave girl..." murmured Helen.

I smiled and nodded, but looked down at my naked well-exercised thighs and open loins. A thrill of arousal went through me, starting at my loins.

"Yes, my owner," my voice trembled slightly, "more than humiliation..but also other ideas that prove my sensuality, the reality of being owned by you, my utter and willing submission to you." I paused, almost not believing that I was actually saying this out loud. They waited politely.

"Yes..." I repeated, "yes, I would actually help create ideas of how I would be your totally sensual passionate ultimate sex slave property."

I wondered if I was making sense but continued nervously. "Yes, I would come up with new ways of being sexually arousing to you, ways of being bound, erotically tortured, and serving you...all these ideas as I was bound before you, displayed, whimpering in hot arousal. You during this might sometimes bring the water or wine to my mouth, and some would spill and trickle down my body."

I glanced at the kitchen stools. Sassa followed my eyes, stood and grabbed one, looking at Helen. Helen nodded, also stood and brought the handcuffs. My heart beat as I sat on the stool before them, widening my knees and feeling the soft, comfortable cuffs close around my wrists behind me. As the lock clicked them closed, I mentioned I thought it ironic they were so soft yet so strong, making me helpless, unable to cover myself.

"No phallus on the stool yet, but otherwise it's the fantasy," said Helen, looking into my eyes seriously. I blinked and nodded, holding her gaze. This directness was thrilling.

After they sat again, Sassa pointed toward my knees and said simply, "wider." I obeyed. She repeated the order. I actually felt ashamed for three reasons: to be ordered so, to expose myself more, and because I had not obeyed 100% the first time. I acknowledged to myself the last of the three demonstrated that I was already becoming truly theirs.

"Yes Mistress," I found myself saying. "Sorry I was not wide enough the first time." I blushed at my apology, and for other reasons. I saw Helen enjoying my blush, and I was actually grateful to her for her sensitivity to my emotions.

To my surprise, Helen said, "You can do better, move them even wider apart, slave girl." She smiled as I looked at her suddenly. Then I looked down as I stretched my knees very wide indeed, somewhat straining. I particularly noticed my breasts this time, pushed out because my arms were locked behind me. My hard nipples helped to communicate my arousal.

"Good, slave girl," she nodded approvingly.

"Yes," added Sassa, "we want to see what is, after all, our property." I felt my blush deepening. I felt like never before. Before actually being in the situation, it's hard to imagine the reality of holding so taut a position, back arched from arms behind me, chest thrust out, loins so exposed. And, not least, my owners demonstrating they really owned me.

Helen then said, "you are beautiful, slave girl. This is just sooo lovely." She meant it, I could tell, and I knew her well enough to realize she was feeding my fantasy and encouraging me.

"Thank you, my owner," I breathed with emotion, fighting the urge to whimper.

"Now, the stool fantasy is real. We'll add the phallus tomorrow and do this some more then. Right now, I want to hear, and I want Sassa to hear, all about that wonderful chariot fantasy."

I smiled at Helen, but started to tremble a little. I was slightly cold, which contributed to the tremble (and my hard nipples), but mostly the tremble was due to having to tell them already about what might be my most ultimate fantasy. I had thought it might be better to build up to it.

"The chariot: I first got this idea from a lesbian slave novella. It was set in a fictional version of ancient Egypt. Mother and daughter slave girls were owned and trained by wealthy mother and daughter." At this I glanced up at them, as it struck me I was actually now a slave owned by sisters. I noticed that both of them were paying fascinated attention to my every word and staring with sensuous expressions at me. Sassa in a voice more husky than I ever heard before said "and here we have a slave girl owned by wealthy sisters." Helen added, "and she is also really owned as slave property, just as in the story." Helen and I smiled at each other, both of us knowing she was repeating my oft stated desire to be experience the reality of sensual slavery.

"The owners realized their slave girls needed additional humiliations well as exercise, so they came up with the idea to use them as they would horses, pulling their chariot, even in public, went they went shopping." I looked down and paused, to still my trembling voice. "I admit to you, when I read that, I became so hot and wet, I whimpered and moaned out loud, and was never so aroused. I think this must be the ultimate situation, to be so used and displayed and trained. It would be humiliating but beautiful and erotic, and I would feel so dominated and love the attention at the same time. I would feel the air all over my skin. You would be loving seeing sweat making my lean body glisten in the sun and watching my muscles exercising.

"You, my owners, would first train me to prance with naked knees rising just so perfectly high, chest out, back arched, as if I were a champion prancing pony. You would use riding crops and whips, and leashes or ropes. You would train me hard, until I did it perfectly. You would use the whip without mercy if I slacked. You would use the riding crop to show the level to which my knees should rise and to train me to arch my back gracefully with chest out."

My voice clearly trembled, but I decided to let them just see me so nervous and emotional and to tell all. Helen, sensitive again, whispered that I should keep talking and hold nothing back. I nodded, pausing, looking down at my thrust-out breasts and hard nipples as they rose and fell to my heavy breathing. Sassa whispered now too, in a caring but firm way, that as their owned love slave I was not allowed to hold anything back. I glanced quickly at her, seeing her right eyebrow raised to communicate the command, yet I also saw that she admired me and was deeply in lust with me.

"Wow, my owners, I can hardly believe these dreams are coming true...thank you." I was very self conscious and could not bring myself to look up into their faces.

"Although while training me you would certainly use the riding crops and whips on me, you would also not want to deface the skin of your property, because you want to use me as a magnificent thoroughly trained valuable show horse. Though at other times you would whip me for teaching me deeply to know I am truly, actually owned by you, and for simple sensual arousal and enjoyment of your property, while training me as your show horse the whip would be used for the purpose of training me or guiding me where you want me to trot or run."

I breathed in shakily, and glanced at them, and was glad to see how utterly fascinated they were. Sassa nodded to me with seriousness, saying this was amazing stuff and she was both shocked and incredibly aroused. I smiled.

"Once I get better at prancing and performing as your show horse, you would begin to get me used to the decorations and harness I would wear. You would clip onto my nipples the silver or golden bells that would tinkle whenever I moved, humiliating and arousing me, making me feel completely owned and thoroughly used as the naked completely owned sex slave I am. Maybe you would choose to also clip some onto other places." I glanced down. "Maybe you would not just clip them, but have them pierced on." I paused, so aroused, so nervous, and now fearful of saying the next decoration. I had already told Helen about this, and she was not going to let me skip over this part. "Slave girl, describe in detail the tail decoration..." Helen ordered gently but firmly.

I gulped, my gaze still on my breasts and nipples, which were so hard they pointed outward perkily. "Yes mistress," I sort of whimpered. My voice became softer but I resolved to say it all. "As you know, horses and ponies have tails. A horsetail would be attached to an anal plug that was perfectly fitted and snug, shaped in the right way, so it would not fall out of me during exercise. I would feel it inside me, and be humiliated, aroused, and feel so submissive, so dominated. I would have to learn to prance with it in me.

"When I practiced prancing, sometimes you would be holding a long leash, and I would go in a circle around you, like a horse in a corral.

"The day would come, perhaps quickly if I learned well, to be harnessed to the chariot. You two would be in the chariot dressed up with boots, and I naked and decorated would be be pulling you. Not just pulling, but performing as your thoroughly trained and owned property, not allowed to hide anything, but swallowing all pride and behaving as trained. Being forced to prance with knees high and back arched and chest out - oh, how humiliating and how totally hot.

I paused, and Helen prompted me for more, to let them know ALL.

"OK, I mean yes, my owners. Yes, I have fantasized about being brushed down, my muscles admired openly, openly discussed. The sweat making them glisten in the sun. Yes, muscles in full bloom of being exercised hard, passionately being admired, touched.

"OK, yes, there's more. I will tell you also that I dreamed about having to pee on the trail, like a horse does. While you watch. Being hand fed.

Ohhh, this would be so ... humiliating, arousing, I would be so thoroughly used! Would you want to do this with your slave girl, my owners?" I boldly looked them in the eyes, even as I trembled and deeply blushed.

Helen nodded with a smile, eyes sparkling. "I love your blush..." We exchanged loving looks.

Sassa glanced at Helen, then smiled too. "Oh I would love to make you do this, love every excruciatingly hot moment of it. Yes, every bit, from training you with a whip, to making you insert the tail, and yeah, even watching you pee right out on the open trail like a real horse would. If you do a good job, I'll hand feed you fruit and cubes of sugar, and if you don't do a good job, I would definitely love to whip you...."

Our eyes widened. We looked at Sassa with smiles. Though scared, and I am sure it showed in my face, I also craved this, and my lust also must have showed. Helen looked slightly worried though when she said, "I think we've unleashed a monster!" Sassa waved a hand dismissively; "I am not a psychopath, don't worry. I just think this is the hottest thing I've ever heard of."

I cleared my throat - they waited through my pause sensing I was going to tell them something. "Although difficult for me to do now, I want to explain something to you. I fantasize a reality of being trained so very thoroughly, that you discipline and punish me every once in a while, or as often as you see fit for your pleasure, and for my thorough training, and for my complete and real submission to your actual ownership of me. Though I have a safe word, as long as my life is not in danger I won't use it. I may even scream, cry, beg and whimper, but I dream of you really following through, making this real.

During training, or anytime, you two can punish me thoroughly...sooo very thoroughly, to the point of breaking me in. Yes, I would not use my safe word, but let the experience unfold. I want to do this. I crave this. It's my fantasy that I want to become a reality.

And... I want you to know it's OK to really erotically torture me sometimes just for the pleasure of it, not only for discipline or training."

There was a silence. I broke it by giggling, "There, I said it out loud, a few of my innermost weird fantasies. I'm scared, but it's what I crave. What do you think of me now. Sick?"

Sassa glanced at Helen before responding: "I think you're so hot, and all this is so hot. If this is weird, then so am I. Thank you for being our erotic property. Helen, are you OK with my whipping her, and other stuff?"

Helen nodded seriously. "It's OK, we'll just have to be careful."

This situation was making me so hot, caused among other factors by knowing I was the only one naked, exposed and the object of desire, and talking about my fantasies openly, and imagining these fantasies happening when their reality was about to unfold. I looked at them again - my owners: Helen was still smiling warmly, while Sassa continued staring at my glistening open V, her eyes occasionally with lust taking in my long and muscular (in a lean, feminine way) limbs and my flat lean abdomen.

I looked into Helen's eyes, seeking and obtaining unspoken empathy, therefore courage to continue exposing my inner self to go along with my outer self.

"My owners, the chariot fantasy seems like an ultimate kind of thing, to be thoroughly used and fully owned, and exposed."

Sasha added: "but, I bet we can come up with even more ultimate fantasies..."