We sat in silence an uncomfortably long while. They snacked and stared at my nakedness at the table across from them. They could see only my upper torso, but what a sight of sexual submissiveness I was: in contrast to their comfortable state of freedom and full clothing, I was more than naked than naked: my shoulders strained, pulled back because of the super tight elbow cinch behind my back, my forearms bent with my hands at my left hip to ease the strain; my wrists were also bound tightly together. Fortunately I am slim and flexible - many people would not be able to get into this position, much less stay in it for a long time. I could eat something only when one of them chose to hand-feed me. My nose-ring further proclaimed my powerlessness and subservience by the humiliation it conferred: THEY did not wear nose-rings AND the ring they place on me was not some little decoration: the nose-ring I wore could not be missed, a silver hoop large enough to rest on my upper lip.
They talked about me as if I had no say, as if I were simply their property, because indeed I had no say, only influence, and I WAS their fully owned property, subject only to a few minor clauses.
I did receive one question before my next humiliation. Helen asked me if I was very hungry; not just hungry, but very hungry. I softly answered "no, my owner." Sassa turned to Helen to day how much she loved it when I called them "owners." Helen nodded, saying using the word "owners" is arousing and sensual because it confirms what is true - that here on this island, they really did own me as their property.
Helen reached into the box and raised the face harness, which had a gag ball. My heart skipped a beat, knowing how erotically submissive and humiliated this would make me feel. Helen told me that when I had this on, if I needed to communicate anything that I needed to speak about, or if I had trouble breathing, that I should make a series of squeals.
My mouth opened slightly, and I almost stopped, but I wanted to know I heard correctly, and to share with her that this was maybe shockingly humiliating, a but too humiliating.
"Squeals?" I softly asked, my eyebrows raising in humiliated misery.
Helen nodded, eyes sparkling. Helen told me she was pleased but a bit surprised over my surprise, because she knew I craved erotic humiliation. Helen granted me some influence, deciding that the sound would best be discovered after experimentation.
"We'll practice that after I put this on you."
I wasn't sure why she used the word "we," because I would be the one trying out different loud sounds. I sat there, trying to smile, but they could surely tell it was a worried type of smile. I could feel the heat of my blush as she inserted the ball gag and tightened the harness. I whimpered in humiliation, but I was SO aroused by this. Such an utter humiliation and a strong feeling of being so totally owned!
I blushed more deeply as I practiced my alarms sounds. At first they were more like grunts, but Helen ordered me to make them higher, into higher pitched sounds. Ohhhhh --- I moaned in arousal... how utterly submissive I felt, how utterly owned and controlled, how humiliating. My sex fantasies coming true...
Some of the sounds I made through the ball-gag DID sound like squeals, but what they wanted was a clear alarm sound. I made high-pitched long cry, more like a wail, but long.
Sassa commented on my deep blushing, much to my shame. Helen added how charming my blushes are. Sassa grinned, then blew me a kiss, saying that my blushing made me so sweet, and her so aroused. I smiled through my gag and total humiliation, knowing I was arousing them. Sassa's air-kiss made me feel loved, and feeling love toward Sassa. My eyes must have sparkled back into hers.
They snacked on the fruit and discussed the weather, which prompted them to take out their smartphones and check the forecast -- sunny skies and perfectly stable temperatures for the next day or two, then some rain, then sunny again. Sassa began finding lesbian bondage pictures and pointing out certain ones to Helen. They would look at me and smile, but they only sometimes showed me the image of interest.
Soon enough, especially because of my sound-making, the saliva accumulated enough to spill out. Drool began pooling inside my mouth, then seeping out around the ball gag...... then streaming slowly down the side of my chin on the side of the ball gag that I was slightly tilting my head toward... my owners were fascinated by my lack of control, the helplessness to stop the saliva. I was even more utterly humiliated by my drooling, by their staring at me, watching this wet, uncontrolled display. Sassa ordered me to position myself in such a way as to ensure the drool falls onto my exposed breast. The way she glanced at my bare breast when she said that made me feel exposed and desired . . .
I felt even more humilaited somehow when Sassa nodded and pointed to my breast. "Yes, that one, slave." I realized I must have communciated my question with my eyes, or perhaps she was simply making me hurry into a slightly leaning position.
Helen moved to clean me up with her napkin, but Sassa pulled her sister's hand back gently. Sassa explained she loved watching this, how it demonstrated my helplessness, and brought even more blushing onto my face. Helen smiled sweetly at her younger sister, nodding. Then both enjoyed staring at me, the sexual art they had helped create.
To my further embarrassment, Sassa took a picture of me. She showed it to Helen, and then to me. There I was, in erotic uninhibited bondage, drool glistening, breasts prominently up and out. I admired my deltoid and tricep muscles, which popped out in that position. I experienced a mixture of thoughts and emotions - the first being pride and pleasure - I even turned myself on... then humiliation as my eyes pleaded not to share that pic. Helen could read my mind. She caressed my strained bare shoulder and told me they would be careful with any pics - after all, they are involved them too, and we didn't want any trouble stopping our blissful adventures. She glanced meaningfully at Sassa, who nodded.
The next picture Sassa showed me was from the internet - a pretty young lady also wearing a face harness. After that one, Sassa showed us a wider view in another picture of the same face-harnessed young woman: she was a ponyslave.
"I am so hot to train you to be our ponyslave." grinned Sassa. She arched her eyebrow and gave me a mischievous grin.
"Mmmmm yes, " smiled Helen, "we have all summer, at least, to train our slave property to perfection." We three glanced at one another in happiness.
Sassa added, "most people would be not be happy in your situation. You are such a sex-crazed ..."
Helen interrupted "...super sensuous high libido person! Like my sister!"
We all grinned; or at least they did... but they could tell I was smiling with my eyes and through the ball gag.
Helen spoke after another pause of their staring at me and my nakedness, tightly bound and drooling, "For the moment, I'm feeling like our slave property should be more displayed, even more visible, as we relax. Sassa, would you be so kind as to bring a barstool here?"
Sassa instantly grinned and was off to grab a stool. Helen held aloft a dildo with a suction base. I gulped.
Soon the sisters were helping me slide onto the dildo, which was sticking straight up from the stool. They held my arms and for my balance and I was giddy from their hands guiding my hips and thighs. I was standing but with slightly bent knees... I lowered slowly onto the head of the dildo.. Fortunately, I was so aroused that the dildo could slide into the steamy moisture. Nevertheless, the vertical dildo was large enough that I had to slide up and down slowly quite a few times times before I absorbed its entire length and was sitting still, as Helen commanded, on the stool. I was in ecstasy during this - a dream come true - both of them staring at my thighs, labia, flat abs, seeing my moisture. They stood and to ensure I didn't fall off, held onto my bound arms mostly, but also touching my hips and thighs a little.
