Lesbian Slave Island

The next days leading up to the departure were like a hazing or indoctrination for me. Helen and Sassa kept true to the manual and when they weren't preparing for our travel, they trained me. Hard.

TRAINING

Always naked, almost always bound, displayed, disciplined and/or ordered to obey humiliatingly submissive acts, I began to know that they owned me.

I was only allowed two orgasms, so I stayed in a crazed heat. Those two orgasms - or more precisely, sets of orgasms - were explosive. One was on the stool dildo, displayed knees wide, wrists and elbows tied behind, after hours of sitting still on dildo. Toward the end of that particular session on the dildo/stool I was allowed to slide up and down on the dildo as well as given permission to orgasm. The other orgasm was special - Sassa wanted to bring me to orgasm with her mouth and tongue. Sassa using her mouth on me was a psychological barrier passed, and we had agreed it was not something usually done during training. I felt emotionally closer to Sassa after that.

Of course, as the slave, I brought THEM to orgasm several times with my lips and tongue, and once each with a strap-on. There was a lot of "making out" with each of them. It was interesting that Helen very often encouraged Sassa and me to kiss. She watched us for long sessions of kissing, including French kissing. She would also order me to lick and suck Sassa's feet and hands and seemed to be aroused watching me so humiliate myself.

They wanted me a bit slimmer, to show off my hard-earned musculature, so my diet was limited to water, beans, seeds, nuts, fruit and mostly vegetables. This was in line with the slave owner's manual I had written and my desire for perfect health, so it too was another dream come true. They denied me the rare desserts they enjoyed, making me feel deliciously owned. They usually hand-fed me too, and occasionally they would eat the desserts off my nipples.

They together or in turns they hand-fed me, had me lick their feet and hands, sit on the dildo-topped stool. Usually I had a collar and chain or anklet and chain, and/or hands tied behind. They had fun binding me in numerous positions, including "hog-tied," spread-eagle and elbow-gloved. I simultaneously loved and feared the whipping sessions, not knowing how long or hard they would be. I loved and hated it when they would order me to keep my legs spread to accept the whipping of my pussy or inner thighs. This of course was painful, and they loved my responses! I blushed the most when being trained to prance and be their pony-slave, especially when wearing the face-harness. It was even more humiliating than peeing as they watched, or tasting my own juices from their fingers, and the many times Sassa had me suck and gag on a dildo. She loved to make me do that, sometimes pumping it herself. One time I gagged so hard that Helen came over to make sure I was OK.

THE NOSE-RING

When Helen returned from the sex store downtown, she showed me only some of the items she bought - she said she would surprise me with the rest on the island. I almost fainted in arousal and humiliation at the mere sight of the first item out of the large bag: a bar nose-ring. Not the kind that is tiny that goes into one side. It was a fairly large circle that instantly made me feel like an owned animal, even before she put it inside my nostrils. The bottom of the ring touched my upper lips.

After it was on, I pumped my hips into the air and gushed juices over the humiliation. When Sassa ooh'd and aah'd over it and held up a mirror for me to see, I blushed deeply, seeing how utterly debased and owned I appeared. How blatant my sex slavery when a large nose-ring shone in the center of my face!

Helen beamed. "How do you feel with the nose-ring on?"

I whispered huskily "utterly owned, utterly aroused, my owner." I moaned softly .

"Do you love it?"

I paused. How humiliating to admit it. "Yes, my owner, I must tell you my feelings. I love it. Ohhhhh."

Helen beamed and pulled out another nose-ring. My eyes widened when she held it closer so that I could see that it had no open area.

"How do you feel about wearing THIS nose-ring? It has a clicker - it is inserted through the septum. We will have to have your septum pierced."

I blushed with arousal and humiliation. I couldn't think what to say. I bowed my head and whispered, "yes my owner, as you desire."

Sassa spoke up. "Slave, my sister asked what you FEEL about having your septum pierced and wearing a full nose-ring."

I kept my head down in shame over my willingness as I started to whisper. "My owners, your slave property is aroused at the mere idea of it. I will love to wear it as a sign of your utter ownership of me." I bravely raised my head, trembling slightly as I looked each of them on their eyes.

They glances at each other, deeply smiling.

"Oh slave, you are so delicious!" Helen kissed me on the lips. Then she showed me a third nose-ring with a clicker: it was adorned with reddish gems. "This one is for more formal occasions, like supper."

NIPPLE RINGS

I smiled at Helen, who then began caressing my nipples.

"I'm working these nipples for the next item, slave." Helen brought out nipple clips of different varieties than I had in my box. She had me kneel, knees wide, back arched, chest thrust upward. Sassa used a riding crop to remind me to hold perfect position. I most often felt the crop when I moved in anticipation of or pain from the various nipple clips Helen tried on me. We all agreed the butterfly clips were the most beautiful, so Helen and Sassa had me wear them most of the evening. I got to sit at the table for dinner that night because they wanted to see the butterflies. They were on for long that I writhed and whimpered in anguish when Helen finally took them off.

Other purchased items used on me before we left for the island included a torso harness that prominently displayed my breasts and locked my arms behind me. Helen drilled a hook into the ceiling and tied my wrists to it, making me extremely vulnerable, displayed and uncomfortable. The humiliation and my arousal were intense, simply to be in this helpless position. When they talked about me and my body, and lightly and erotically tortured me and caressed me while so helpless, I was in a kind of bliss.

I also loved it whenever Sassa toyed with my most intimate area, getting juices on her hand which she then had my suck or lick off. Sometimes she smeared my juices on my face and body. More bliss. I whimpered and thrust my hips (when possible) in desire tho when she took her hand away from stimulating me...

DISPLAYING MYSELF

It always got me extra hot when they wanted me to lean back, spread my legs and thrust my hips up. They played with their slave's displayed nudity, using riding crop, clips, whips and clip-rings.

I loved it when they were nicely dressed while in stark contrast I was the only one naked, hands tied behind my back, nipple and labia clips dangling and nose-ring prominently reminding all three of us just how owned a sex-slave I was.

All three of us got off on my saying and writing out in many ways how totally they owned me. Whether they order me to or not, I would often say things like "I submitted utterly to you," you own me as your property," I am your sensual toy to use as you please," I can have no inhibitions," "I wanted this and so I am yours to own," "there is a slave contract and slave owner manual which I wrote and signed myself," "the more you show you own me, the more I am aroused and love you."

It was a milestone when I licked and sucked Sassa to a wild series of orgasms. When her lust would be thusly settled for a while, we shared more relaxing and tender moments, though even during these she almost always was fully or partially clothed and me nude, shaved, arching my back to thrust out my breasts, and wearing some chain, collar, anklet or nipple clamp. I loved these times too, getting to know one another better. We often kissed, and she often touched and stroked my available nudity.

I watched carefully for signs of Helen becoming jealous sharing her lover, but I only could detect the opposite. Helen smiled and often beamed when Sassa and I were intimate. When Helen and I were alone, I asked about it (after getting permission to ask). Helen answered this development thrilled her. She loved her sister and wanted her to stay away from boys for a few years. And she loved me. Seeing us enjoying one another was wonderful. I smiled and began licking her labia; she grabbed my hair and moaned as I induced orgasm after orgasm. I wished I could finger myself, despite the risk or orgasm without permission, but thankfully and my wrists were tied together behind my back.

They kept complimenting me, so my self esteem actually rose along with my subservience. When they disciplined me, it was usually for erotic passion and training, not simply punishment. They had few reasons to punish me, for my obedience and enthusiasm were consistent. The whippings and other causes of pain that made me writhe, wince and even cry only raised their erotic passion for me. They were acts of eroticism, not sadism.

Of my two owners, Sassa perhaps had the stronger streak of sadism in her. I was not sure I was truly masochistic until those moments when Sassa was harshest. I felt my pain was a gift to them and through it they showed me they loved and desired their slave property. I encouraged them because the experience would not otherwise be real. Only by going all the way with real ownership would we all feel they truly owned me as their completely owned property. Sassa seemed to understand this better and perhaps because she wasn't originally my lover. So, Sassa went further.

One of the times they whipped and nipple-tortured and labia-clamped me, I cried the most, with real tears. Helen thought they had gone too far, but not Sassa. Still crying, I did beg them to stop at least for a break, but quickly added I loved being their thoroughly owned true and real slave property and to not stop, to ignore my begging for a break. They both looked into my eyes with doubt, so I knew I had to reassure them both. I told them it was loving of them to stop, but even more loving of them to erotically torture me. Then I begged them to continue using me and training me. I challenged them to prove they owned me.

What followed was one of the times they went beyond eroticism into punishment. With breaks, but for more than two hours, they continued to disciplined me, repeating that it was to prove they owned me and to train me to obey them instinctively. The only one of us bound and naked, displayed including shaven loins, crying and whimpering around the gag they put in me to prevent my screaming being heard, covered in whip marks, I learned what it was to really be property, completely in the power of and owned by these sisters.

I cried more, naturally, but my pleading stopped. They seemed to know when I had too much at any particular time and would pause. I both trembled and loved it when Sassa said she got hot when she saw me flinch, moan or writhe. When Sassa squeezed my labia and nipplse, causing me to wince, I noticed the lust that passed across her face. I thought I might have seen love too, from both, at my wince. For Helen it was mixed with sympathy and some lust, for Sassa I guessed more lust than love. At least for now.

The next morning was the departure. Helen said that unfortunately I must be fully dressed, because she did not want any trouble. Helen added that after we arrived, while still fully clothed, I could still back out. Sassa protested over this option, pleasing me and making me feel wanted. I promised I would not back out, but Helen said that she wanted to make this offer for two reasons. One was that she did wonder about my tears of pain and whether I truly wanted this, and the other was that she wanted me to commit again to true slavery in that remote location, where and when I could not escape. She pointed out that when I took my clothes off on the island, there would be no going back and no escape until the contract allowed me to reconsider again. Because there, my screams could be heard by no one else.