I've spent most of my life thinking of myself as heterosexual. Up until recently I had never had sexual fantasies about women, never had sex with a woman, I'd never even kissed a girl!
That all changed when Princess Bedrohlich abducted me, took me to Verborgen and turned me into her lesbian sex slave. I had almost three years of conditioning as her slave, and it changed me. I've spent so much time as the sexual plaything of dominant women, I now can't imagine doing anything else. All my sexual fantasies are about women now. I feel a potent need to be naked and objectified and spanked by women. I want them to touch me, pinch me, probe me and use me in all sorts of cruel, shameful, libidinous ways.
At night I dream about cruel, powerful women making me helpless, punishing me and ordering me to pleasure them.
Yeah, I've changed a lot in the past few years. It's hard to believe how I transformed from a conventional, heteronormative teenager to a lesbian sex slave with a shameless desire for punishments, objectification and sexual abuse.
With my entire sexual identity changed, my life changed dramatically. I now have two lesbian mistresses. And they both see to it that my cravings for subjugation, punishments and objectification are met with deliciously cruel punishments and public humiliation.
Case in point, a wealthy woman on Sutter Road wanted to have me perform as entertainment for a bachelorette party. The plan was that the bachelorette would be allowed to spank me, fondle me and do all kinds of wicked things to my naked body while her friends watched and cheered her on.
"Her name is Regina Whitcliffe," Anna explained about the woman I was being hired to entertain. "She's twenty years old and getting married next week. She's nervous about getting married so young, and one of her wealthier friends thought it would put her more at ease to have you provide her with a night of kinky, lesbian passion before her wedding day."
"A whole night?" I asked.
"Well, four hours," Anna replied. "But those four hours are going to be really, really intense."
The day of Regina's bachelorette party, I was led into the living room and told to stand with my hands clasped behind the back of my neck. Anna intended to whip me with a belt before the party.
"Why?" I asked. "I'm just going to be punished again when I get there. What's the point in punishing me before I leave the house?"
"The cops that patrol Regina's neighborhood insist that you have the marks of some sort of corporal punishment when I bring you around," Anna answered. "It makes it easier to identify you as a slave."
Oh yeah, I remembered the last time I was in the wealthy part of town. Two cops stopped us and said that slaves should have whip marks on their bodies. Otherwise, they look like people under the influence and indecently exposed.
It sounded like abuse of police authority to me, but cops that patrol upper-class neighborhoods tend to have very high opinions of themselves and aren't likely to listen to the opinions of a naked slave girl.
So, Anna folded the belt double, and I stood with my back to her, my hands placed behind my neck and my legs spread.
CRACK!
"Oh!"
CRACK!
"Aaahhh!"
The leather belt slashed across my naked buttocks, and I bit my lower lip, trying to stifle my cries of pain. I was barely able to keep from screaming. I moaned and panted, and my bottom swung from side to side as I was whipped. And, true to form, my sex throbbed wetly. My time in Verborgen had changed me greatly and harsh punishments fill me with waves of dark desire. It's almost impossible to explain, but while punishments still hurt plenty, they also spark libidinous excitement in me.
Before Princess Bedrohlich claimed me as her slave, I never had a desire to be punished. Now, it is a huge part of my sexual identity. I suspect she may have cast a spell on me, but even if she did, I don't want the spell lifted. My life is much more exciting now than it used to be. The life of a naked sex slave is much more thrilling than the life of a normal, conventional, suburban woman.
When Anna finally stopped, my ass was stinging and sore and only became more so as she took my reddened buttocks and thighs in her strong hands and kneaded my sore flesh.
"Your ass is a delight," Anna commented as I sobbed and shook. "Regina is going to adore it. It's absolutely bewitching."
Before we left the house, Anna secured leather restraints around my wrists and connected them to my slave collar with a short length of chain. The restraints kept my hands behind me, and the chain was so short that my wrists were pulled up into the small of my back. I couldn't lower my hands enough to rub my poor, abused bottom.
"You look almost ready," Anna said as she leisurely looked me up and down and examined my naked body intently. "We just need one more thing."
Without any further words, she opened a drawer in the dresser and with a minimum of searching produced a leash. She held it up for me to see. It was made of black leather with a stainless-steel snap-hook on one end for attaching to a dog's collar.
"I'm going to attach this to your slave collar and lead you down Sutter Road. If the cops see you on a leash with painful vivid stripes across your ass, there'll be no questions about your status as a slave."
I felt a dark, delicious wave of excitement as I anticipated how humiliating it was going to be with Anna parading me naked down the street with my neighbors ogling me.
Once we were out on the street, joggers, dog walkers and delivery people stopped what they were doing and took notice of the naked leashed her girl and her mistress. Walking out in the sunshine, naked, barefoot, bound and leashed, I felt even more naked than when I was at home. Somehow being on a public street with the sounds of traffic to my right and pedestrians on the sidewalk in front of me made me feel even more naked than when Anna sexually objectified me at home.
When I was a free woman and walked down the streets wearing jeans, running shoes, and a t-shirt, people never dared to stare at my breasts. It was considered socially unacceptable to stare at a woman as if she were a sex object.
However, now that I was naked, barefoot, my bound arms forcing me to thrust my breasts forward, and being led around on a leash, my status had changed and suddenly staring at my breasts and my pouty pubic lips was no longer taboo. It seemed as if the entire city was staring at my painfully erect nipples, my slick pubic lips and everything in between.
College girls, middle-aged housewives, innocent-looking old ladies...they all stopped to stare and take in my nudity and my helplessness. Nobody was shy about staring. They just gazed at me leisurely, not wanting to miss a single inch of my naked, slave-girl body.
With my arms bound behind me as they were, my shoulders were pinned back and my breasts were thrust forward, almost as if I were offering them up to anybody on the street. And the people on the street were most assuredly taking me up on that offer.
A female jogger almost ran past me, but then she stopped dead in her tracks and intently ogled my breasts. She had two breasts of her own, but she stared at mine as if she were fascinated by them.
"Stop," Anna commanded and pulled taut on my leash. We both stopped and the jogger came towards us. The jogger looked to be about nineteen or twenty and she had a timid look on her face as if she was frightened easily.
Then, Anna turned to the young jogger and said, "Good morning! Would you like to meet my slave?"
"Slave?" the young woman asked as she cautiously took a few more steps toward us. "That woman is your slave?"
