Thank you for reading this story: I hope you enjoy it and I look forward to your comments. If you read the first part, please skip straight to Chapter Three below. If you did not, it will help you to know that Amelia, a white woman of twenty-three, is a part-time pleasure slave and a member of the 50% Club. It holds dinners and other social occasions at which the submissives are paired, for a limited time and apparently at random, with dominant members who are entitled to keep them in bondage and use their bodies for pleasure.
Amelia has been paired with Mistress Maddie, an imposing black lesbian woman. As this part of the story begins, Amelia has been introduced to lesbian sex and is about to spend her first night bound in Maddie's bed. Her story is written in the first person.
Chapter Three - The Light of Day
By the time Mistress Maddie and I bedded down for our first night together, I knew that the weekend would be a completely new kind of experience for me. The men who had "drawn" me during my first two weekends with the Club had tied me tightly to use me for sex, but in between, except when they were practicing their bondage skills, they were content with simple handcuffs locked in front of my body. They had arranged for me to use the toilet and clean and shower myself, although one of them had locked me in the bathroom.
Maddie, in contrast, kept my hands locked behind me as she prepared me for bed, wiping my privates, washing my face and cleaning my teeth. It all felt very strange, but I submitted to it meekly. She changed my bondage completely when we finally retired, spreading me out in an 'X', face up, with my wrists and ankles chained to anchor point on the metal frame. The king-sized bed was big enough to leave space for her to lie alongside, and she left just enough slack to ensure that I was not stretched when she sat or knelt astride my body. The idea that I could sleep like that would have seemed bizarre to me a week ago, and with my previous masters I had usually been virtually free at night, locked in a room or to a bed by a single cuff.
I was, however, very tired indeed, and the package of pills given to all the slaves at dinner had included drugs that prevented cramp and muscle-aches and rendered our joints more supple. I slept the sleep of the just except that, when Maddie woke me up in the small hours, I experienced a few moments of disorientation; almost panic, and pulled hard on my chains. She ignored that and straddled my face in the "forward cowgirl" position, which made it easy for me to get my tongue into her vaginal tunnel.
I had read somewhere- I can't remember where- that masters and mistresses usually like to see their slaves having orgasms, except at night when they want rapid and efficient service. Maddie fitted that pattern, having woken up horny, but needing quick satisfaction so she could get back to sleep. I was left wide awake with the taste of her juice in my mouth, but I was surprised to find that it was suddenly morning. There were no windows, and therefore no daylight, but there was a bedside clock that I could see and read even in semi-darkness.
Maddie was propped up with an elbow, looking down on me, and when she saw me stirring she began to stroke my breasts. Then we were kissing, and then she was fingering me to orgasm, over and over again, until I was fighting my chains with every ounce of my strength. That was all the exercise that I got during those three days with her. She did not use my mouth again, but masturbated before she started the lengthy process of preparing us for the day ahead. My hands went behind my back again, and my ankles were hobbled. The ultra-high heeled shoes had remained on my feet all night. We both went for a pee, and then, still naked, ascended the stairs to the kitchen for breakfast.
I found that I was just able to climb from one step to the next, although I felt nervous at first. Breakfast was very simple- just cereals and toast, and it was all fed to me by my mistress, who explained her "house rules," most of which I had already guessed. "You'll be kept in cuffs and chains at all times," she said. "I don't often bother with ropes. My knots aren't very good and I insist on 100% security. You will do nothing for yourself. You will not feed yourself, but if a glass with a straw has been provided, you may drink from it. You will be bathed and groomed as I see fit." I nodded agreement to everything; not that I was being given any choice.
After breakfast she took me to a fully-equipped bath and shower room on the ground floor, and after a prolonged visit to the toilet- during which Maddie made a show of tidying-up the towel cupboard- she first cleaned me with a powerful jet of water while I sat over a bidet, and then gave me a series of enemas. I was used to doing my own, but the process was familiar. She did the same for herself, and then we both got into the shower, and she was very thorough with me, washing my hair even though I had done it the day before.
Once the enemas were done with I found the process highly erotic, culminating in the slow, sensuous process of rubbing moisturizer into every inch of my skin. That was not enough, however, for she then made me lie down on a couch in the living room, and massaged my shoulders, back, buttocks and thighs with oil scented with what I thought was Patchouli. "Normally I'd spread you out for this," she told me as she lifted my arms to work underneath them. "I'm a bit rushed this morning, and at least I can turn you over."
That she did, and massaged my breasts with an enthusiasm that did not suggest haste, and eventually she sat by my supine body and masturbated with one hand while frigging my pussy with the other. After we had climaxed once, however, she turned me back over and used a length of chain to put me in a moderate hogtie, with about eighteen inches between my ankles and my wrists. Then she disappeared for about forty minutes, and from the sounds of doors opening and shutting I deduced that she had gone down to the cellar.
It was a weird feeling to be virtually alone in a strange house, naked, hogtied and in full view of a picture window. She was obviously very certain that there would be no trespassers, gardeners, friends wondering where she was, or deliverymen looking for a safe place to leave packages. I realized that, for my own comfort, I must avoid struggling, which might have caused me to roll off the sofa onto the floor. I had to relax into my bondage, to let the chains do their work, and to see them as a support rather than a restriction. If I could do that, and lie peacefully with my head to one side on the cushion, I would be learning to be a good bondage slave for my mistress, and for any others that succeeded her.
It pained me to think that she had felt the need to compromise: surely my ankle cuffs should have been locked directly to my wrists? I summoned up my memories of pictures of hogtied women, and remembered one whose ankles had been widely separated by a spacer bar, and her wrists locked directly to that. Another had her ankles chained to her collar, her body bent into a bow, and I had seen pictures of many slaves, male and female, hogtied kneeling on the floor, mouths open and ready to munch a cunt or suck a penis.
I soon realized that I was juicing onto the sofa's cushion, but as it was already infused with Patchouli, I had to assume that the mistress would have the covers washed after the weekend. I tried to wriggle my body to grind my pussy against the fabric, which was woven and had a definite texture, but all I managed to do was forget my surroundings, to be brought back to reality with a sharp slap on my backside. I think it would have been harder if she had not had to reach under the hogtie chain to do it. 'Do not masturbate without permission!', said Maddie sharply. 'You won't be warned again.'
