Laura

Being a slave to my twin sister is just so naughty and forbidden. Of course, the slave contract I had signed stipulated that I was required to serve Lexis for an entire year. There's no backing out, even when I feel guilty about having incestuous sex with my sister.

Being powerless and forced to obey makes the whole thing far more delicious. I love the fact that all decisions have been taken away from me. Now I'm just a naked slave, to be abused, objectified and punished. My sister has all the power and there's nothing I can do to stop her. I do whatever my sister orders me to do, or I get punished.

One of the things my sister ordered me to do was to assist in building a dungeon. My sister drew up the design for the dungeon and Ionna and I did all the grunt work. Of course, Ionna was fully clothed while she worked, while I was indecently naked.

Our basement was an ideal location for building a dungeon. It was deep but dry, with stone walls and rough wooden stairs that creaked ominously underfoot.

As I toiled under Ionna's close supervision there was a near-constant tingle in my loins. The basement was a dark, windowless room, ominous and unforgiving. I was naked and barefoot, while Ionna, fully clothed, constantly gave me assessing looks as I helped assemble intimidating bondage devices.

Sometimes Lexis would come downstairs to check on our progress. Twin sister notwithstanding, an important part of my brain already saw a stern authority figure, a predatory female who could sexually assault me without warning and punish me for the slightest infraction of her strict rules.

My heart sped up every time she came near. A cocktail of emotions would stir inside me, equal parts fear, sexual arousal and anticipation. I would tremble involuntarily at her approach, wanting both to flee from her intimidating presence and kneel submissively at her feet. Of course, I did neither and instead waited for her to issue me orders.

A central feature of our newly constructed dungeon was the bondage bench. When it was finished, Lexis came downstairs to examine our handwork. She looked it over, declared that it looked sturdy, and ordered me to place myself on it to be fastened down so she could evaluate its ability to hold a naked girl securely and keep her helpless.

Wide leather straps held me down with my ass raised up prominently, my legs spread wide, and my arms stretched down in front. Lexis ordered me to try and get free. I strained against the leather restraints securing me to the bench, but no matter how much I struggled, I couldn't get free. The bench would hold me helpless until Lexis or Ionna set me free.

"I'm not sure this qualifies as a true test of the restraints," Ioanna observed. "A slave will struggle much more vigorously when she's being tormented. Extreme pain will ignite her fight or flight response, speed up her heart rate and trigger a surge of adrenaline into her bloodstream."

My sister put on a playfully sinister voice, replying, "So, you're saying that it won't be a true test unless Laura is being truly traumatized?"

"Exactly! If the restraints can hold her securely when she's enduring an overwhelming amount of pain, then we'll know for certain that we've built a bondage bench that can really hold a slave."

My neck was held tight against the bench, and I couldn't look behind me, but I heard my sister's footsteps as she walked over to the side of the room where the whips, riding crops and leather straps were on display. When I listened to her footfalls returning to my location, I imagined that she was holding something thin and leather that would sting horribly.

I knew I was about to be whipped and I felt a surge of delicious fear. I craved harsh punishments, but I feared them as well. I squirmed as much as the leather restraints would allow and in a tremulous, plaintive voice, I implored, "But, mistress? What have I done?"

"Nothing, my love," Lexis replied, and I felt her cool fingertips tracing soft, slow lines up and down my indecently displayed labia. "But, as you may recall, I told you I would be a very cruel mistress. I said that I would sometimes punish you just because I would take pleasure in hearing you scream. I told you this even before you signed that slave contract."

I whimpered as I felt my sister's fingers play with my pink slit. I had been denied permission to cum for almost a week, and I was dripping wet. Lexis's fingers heightened my arousal, and I moaned shamelessly as my sex throbbed with hungry spasms.

I melted inside, and an agonizing wave of desire passed through me as she stroked my pornographically exposed bald pubes. I felt feverish and when I spoke next, my voice was clotted with desire.

"May I cum, Lexis?" I asked, desperately.

"That's Mistress to you," my sister replied sternly. "And no, you may not. I just want you good and hot before we begin."

I felt shameful and slutty with my legs spread so wide and my plump, glistening pubic lips so blatantly on display. It seemed unfair to be so ready for sex and yet to be denied. Of course, that was one of the things that attracted me to slavery in the first place; the blatant unfairness of it. Somehow the suffering, humiliations, harsh punishments and the unfair treatment acted as a powerful aphrodisiac for me.

I was about to make a self-pitying comment when the correctly anticipated narrow strip of leather snapped across my naked buttocks. I felt the stinging impact of the whip before I even heard the sound. And before I had time to catch my breath Lexis swung two more times, for a total of three strokes across my innocent bottom before I had a chance to scream.

"Aaaahhhh!"

There was a brief pause as Lexis examined the stinging red stripes she'd placed on my backside.

"They're gorgeous," my sister assured me. "It's a shame you can't see them."

I was panting and still trying to recover from the sudden burst of pain when my sister started up again. My ass became a riot of red-hot glowing pain, then Lexis moved lower, toward the more sensitive skin and harder muscle of my thighs. My throat became sore as my screams became more frantic and desperate.

I screamed, whimpered and whined under the cruel barrage of lashes across my naked flesh. The pain was far more intense when she whipped the backs of my thighs, and I jerked uncontrollably in my bonds. My eyes welled up with tears as I writhed helplessly. The whip burned and stung, and I embraced the unfairness of it all. I was a sex slave. And this was what happened to sex slaves.

* * *

It became a ritual. Each time we finished assembling a bondage device for the dungeon, Lexis would mark the occasion by fastening me securely to it, then whipping me until I was writhing in uncontrollable agony.

The day Ionna and I finished putting together the whipping frame, Lexis bound me to it spread eagle, pointing out as she did so that it left my entire body available. I could be whipped equally easily from the front or the back.

And with my legs bound helplessly far apart, my pussy was indecently on display and vulnerable. Lexis took advantage of my defenseless state, palming my sex and feeling up my vulva from front to back, parting my labia, and moving a finger along my moistening cleft.

"Your breasts, your cute little ass, your firm abs, your beautiful legs, your shaved pubes," my sister whispered as she leisurely played with my plump, glistening pubic lips, "every inch of you is accessible now."

Rather than just talk about it, my sister went on to prove it, starting in front. She used a single tail whip, a leather strap and a riding crop in rotation to redden my naked body and make me fill the dungeon with my high-pitched screams. When I looked down, I could see the painful stripes she had placed on my breasts, my abdomen and my thighs. They hurt deliciously and roused deep passions in my loins.

"Oh, if only your friends could see you now," my sister sang out gleefully, admiring the vivid, scorching stripes she'd created up and down the front of my body.

My sister's tone was playful, but I worried she might be serious about putting my naked body with my vivid whip marks on display for my friends to see. She'd already brought Riki over to see how I'd been subjugated and reduced to serving as my sister's naked sex slave. If she brought any more of my friends over to see me like this, I would be mortified beyond words.

"Oh, please don't allow any of my friends to see me like this, mistress," I blurted out plaintively.

My sister responded to my plea by snapping her whip across my lower abdomen, missing my Venus mound by a few scant inches. The next lash sliced painfully across the top of my thigh and my exposed outer labia.

"

Aaaaghhhh!!!"

It was scorching agony when the whip struck me, but after the initial impact the pain slowly subsided to a throbbing, sensuous afterglow. After my initial scream, I panted and adjusted to the pulsing burn that had been inflicted on my skin.

"You're my most prized possession," Lexis informed me after I got my breathing under control. "You're the most exquisite thing I own. Of course, I'm going to show you off. It would be foolish to own such a delicious slave and not to."

I didn't challenge Lexis's opinion. I could tell this was important to her and if I dared to disagree, she would just whip me until I succumbed to her way of thinking. I simply nodded my head as if I agreed with her.

Lexis smiled at my response. And with me duly admonished she resumed whipping the most exquisite thing she owned. She enjoyed watching the look of terror and bitter anguish on my face, so she whipped my front, ignoring my backside completely.

It was an unconventional way to whip a girl. Normally a girl is whipped across her back or her buttocks. Lexis whipped me from my breasts to my thighs, then back to my breasts again. Stinging red stripes eventually covered the front of my body

""Uhh! Huh! Aahhh! Aaahh! Unnhh! Aahhh! Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!"

I cried out in mindless pain as my sister whipped the front of my naked body. The whipping eventually ended, but not until my eyes were welled up with tears, my beautiful boobs, tight abs and thighs blazed with heat, and my throat was raw from screaming.

"A vigorous whipping enhances your beauty so much," Lexis said softly as she stood back and stared at her handiwork.

"It's not just the whip marks. It's the look of helplessness and suffering on your face. You look truly subjugated right now. It's like you've utterly surrendered to me."

Indeed, I felt truly subjugated and helpless. I blinked away my tears as best I could and looked down at the stinging front of my body. I saw raw, distinct stripes, my skin was welted in places, but to my surprise there was no blood.

My sister set her whip down and traced her finger across some of the more vivid lines across my poor, abused breasts.

"Ouch!"

I cried out and strained reflexively against my bonds. The whole front of my body was glowing red hot with pain, but my sister was eager to run her fingers across the colorful, vivid stripes that now decorated my naked body.

She moved from my rounded breasts to my abdomen and finally her hand ended up between my legs, where she fingered my labia and clitoris.

"Aaahhh!"

I cried out mindlessly. The whip had snapped across my bare pubes several times and they were sensitive to the touch, but I wanted my sister to touch me there anyway. It had been too long since I'd had any sort of sexual release and I was desperate for her to bring me to orgasm.

I threw my head back in erotic surrender. When my sister's hand worked my swollen labia apart and penetrated my sex, I panted urgently. I felt as if I was being sacrificed to some sort of barbaric pagan goddess and my naked body was bound wide open and helpless as my abused pussy was impaled on two probing fingers. Then three, then four.

"Aaaahhhh! Ohhhhhh! Ahh! Ahh! Ahh!"

I was naked, bound spread-eagle, whipped and speared deep by my mistress's strong, insistent fingers. She filled me and banged me wide open. I could do nothing to stop her, and my feelings of helplessness made my impending orgasm all the more intense.

"Mistress! Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God! Ohhhhh!"

Eventually I lost the ability to form words, and I just cried out, making inarticulate vowel sounds as I shuddered and panted my way through several mind shattering orgasms.

* * *

I was surprisingly happy as a slave. I kept expecting that at some point the humiliations, the blatant demotion of status and the harsh punishments would become too much for me. I felt I might even have a panic attack. But it turned out that I thrived as a naked, abused plaything. The more Lexis and Ionna abused me the more I was filled with excitement and a dark, delicious sexual thrill.

I began to feel a certain camaraderie with Ionna. I was only a slave, and she was a servant, but we were both laborers. She educated me on household maintenance, labor saving tips, food preparation, food storage, cooking, cleaning and other things that both servants and household slaves needed to know.

Of course, she would still punish me if she felt that I had broken one of Lexis's rules. There were multiple times where she would be showing me the proper way to sweep or vacuum or scrub the shelves in the fridge and I would do something that she felt violated the rules. Suddenly all polite conversation stopped, and she would order me to get the belt or a leather strap so I could be disciplined for my misbehavior.

Ionna taught me a lot about making delicious, nutritious meals. And while I ate the same food as Lexis and Ionna, I ate mine out of a bowl while on my hands and knees with my head down and my ass raised up.

Somehow this all felt right to me, and I embraced my inferior, sexually objectified status. Of course, my sister would sometimes do something so different and unexpected that I would be shocked and thrown outside of my comfort zone.

As a naked slave, I feel fulfilled. I've found my niche kneeling at Lexis's and Ionna's feet. However, it still makes me feel ill at ease if my sister brings over people from my pre-slave life to show them what I've become. I'd spent most of my life as a dignified, respected heiress who wore designer fashions and took trips to Switzerland to go skiing. It's mortifying for people who knew me from back then to see me naked with whip marks on my ass, my breasts or other intimate parts of my body.

As a slave, it's appropriate for me to prepare and serve Lexis her food, but it is not appropriate for me to take my meals with her. I usually just stand at attention while she eats and remove the dirty dishes when she's done.

Of course, things are different if she has guests over for dinner. If she has a guest over, she'll want to show me off. She likes to invite people to stare openly at my naked body.

I felt a potent surge of embarrassment and shame every time Lexis exhibited me like this. She sometimes put my breasts and shaved pubes on display for my friends or for people I knew from my old, privileged life. This would cause my shame to double and redouble compared to being trotted out for strangers to ogle.

The urge to cover myself and flee the mortifying situation was powerful every time Lexis did this to me, but Lexis was in charge. According to the contract I signed, she had the authority to subject me to humiliating situations like this and I was supposed to be a good girl and participate in her cruel games without complaining. And I was determined to be a good slave and do everything my mistress told me to do, no matter how difficult.

One of the more recent incidents when Lexis embarrassed me like this was when she invited Keira Kiritsu over for dinner.

Keira Kiritsu was one of the top realtors in Southern California. My family had employed her services for several real estate dealings. I'd met her on a few occasions, and she'd always been warm and congenial towards me. We had been on a first name basis.

Now that I was a slave, she was no longer friendly in her dealings with me. Now she insisted that I address her as ma'am, mistress or Ms. Kiritsu.

Of course, I was naked the whole time that I was made to serve my sister and her guest. And Lexis encouraged Keira to squeeze my ass to test the firmness of my buttocks or indeed to grab any part of my female anatomy for any reason whatsoever. I was a naked sex slave, a fact that my sister pointed out repeatedly as she encouraged the well-dressed realtor to sexually objectify me.

Ms. Kiritsu asked about the marks on my breasts as I stood there and refilled her glass. Of course, she ended up reaching out and tracing her fingertips across the painful red lines. Lexis demanded that I place my hands behind my back and thrust my chest out to make my breasts more prominent while Ms. Kiritsu examined my whip marks.

It was painful enough as she brushed her fingers gently across my marked flesh. Then it became excruciating when she palmed my boob and roughly squeezed. I whimpered, clenched my jaw and tears welled up in my eyes as her cruel grip reignited the pain of my recent whipping.

"What do you think of her?"

Keira switched her grip from my poor, abused breast to my butt, giving it an enthusiastic squeeze. She considered my sister's question for a moment, then she answered. "She's a natural slave. She's obedient, humbled and eager for approval. And I love her body. She's lithe and athletic with dancer's legs and impressively firm abs and buttocks. Have you considered training her as a pony slave?"

A blank look spread across my sister's face. She squared her shoulders and inquired, "pony slave?"

"You've never heard of pony slaves?" Keira said. "Oh, you don't know what you've been missing! Training a slave to be a pony girl or pony boy is delightfully cruel. It places all sorts of physical demands on the slave, and it is utterly humbling. They slave is forced to pull a chariot or cart and they're bitted and bridled and whipped to make them go faster. The slave is utterly robbed of all their freedom and dignity. I've sold real estate to some people in the BDSM community who train and race ponies. I've been fortunate enough to be invited to some of their events."

"Pony training is very demanding is only for the most physically fit and dedicated of slaves," she continued as she chatted amiably with my sister. "But I think that Laura could handle it. She seems quite athletic and eager to please her mistress."

I felt my face blush red hot as the two women discussed me being treated like a beast of burden by cruel horse trainers. I was an heiress to a vast fortune. I had grown up with expensive clothes and deferential servants who catered to my every whim. Did I even have the emotional resilience to cope with being handled and trained like an animal?

Later that evening, Ionna and I were washing the dishes and I related to her my fears and anxieties about being forced to become a pony slave. Ionna seemed unconcerned.

"I think you'll be fine," she said as she worked at drying the dishes I had washed. "You're more than just a desirable piece of ass. You're a strong, resilient woman. You've proven that you can handle a great deal of adversity. I think you can handle being a pony slave."

* * *

Before I could begin my pony training, Lexis insisted that I needed to be outfitted with custom pony gear. I was taken to a remote shop just outside of Augustus beach where Lexis explained to the proprietor that I was to undergo pony training and would need a harness, boots, bits, horsetails and other equipment for when I was taken to be trained as a pony.

The shop proprietor ordered me to strip naked in the middle of the shop so that I could be examined, and measurements taken for my custom pony gear. I felt uneasy about stripping naked right there out in the open. It was a public place. Anybody could walk in off the street and see me.