The Whip or the Vibrator

Introduction:

This story is inspired by and in tribute to some of the women of this site who go in for the edgier and more extreme kinks and fetishes. I hope they appreciate it.

Brief Recap:

CapCunt & Kit-5 find themselves increasingly drawn to each other as they try to process their experience at the Ranch, while maintaining their real lives. CapCunt can't explain the feelings that motivate her to dominate and be dominated by Kit-5 in increasingly hard and unyielding ways. On this latest rendezvous, CapCunt walked Kit-5 into a women's room stall to slap her. Kit-5 then held CapCunt down on her kitchen counter, and smacked her studded belt on the counter by CapCunt's face, while she got CapCunt off with her hand for the first time.

She didn't let me cum again that weekend, and I didn't let her cum either.

Because Kit-5 hadn't taken the time to pleasure herself during our counter incident, it meant she didn't cum until Saturday evening. But last night had been another shift. Neither of us had ever let the other cum while we were in charge, let alone bring each other off. Despite the pleasure she'd given me, I felt more controlled than ever with that belt coming down so close to my face.

I had Kit-5 walk in to the terminal with me when she dropped me off at the airport that Sunday. I walked her back into the restroom, into that very same stall where I had slapped her on Friday night. I took the pair of dirty socks I'd gagged her with that night out of my purse, and just held them in my hand. I squeezed them, and looked her in the eye. She held my gaze with a vulnerable look in her eye. Then I leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

"You're the one that's a real cheap piece of shit slave."

She didn't say anything to that. But she looked away for a moment, and then locked eyes with me again, as if she couldn't look me in the eye, but knew she needed to.

I put the socks back in my purse and walked out of there, leaving her in that stall.

I didn't see Kit-5 for another two months after that. Maybe we needed some distance from each other. But I still got those reports. She saw the Domme again. And that got me wondering.

If there was one thing I was slowly starting to figure out about this sexual exploration, it was that things could change you. Events had their impact. New ideas would burrow in your brain, and you'd be afflicted with things you couldn't stop thinking about.

So I joined an extreme humiliation/degradation group for lesbians. The greetings started flowing in immediately...

...And the offers.

I wasn't into women. I know, that has to sound like the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard after reading thousands of words from me so far. But I really wasn't. I was 100% surefire straight-A surefire heterosexual. My yearnings were for men, for their strength, their dominance, their smells after sex, in the shower, their cocks. I wanted to be held down and whipped by them, and wanted cock everywhere...pussy, ass, mouth, whatever.

And yet, who was I carrying on with on a regular basis? Who was the one person I had anything even resembling a relationship with? Ok, it was more like an arrangement. But it was steady. It was regular. It was something I could actually count on.

Events change us. I knew that moment when Sado-Chick stepped out from the side of the van changed me. I knew that hour or so shivering in their van by myself, stripped and bound like a true slave, changed me. And I sure knew that week of cruelty and sex at the ranch changed me. And I suppose, being dominated by a truly cruel woman and being bound against another submissive woman for all my nights had also changed me. But I didn't think they could have changed me this much.

I ignored virtually all of those greetings and offers. They weren't speaking to anything I felt I was about, so why should I bother to acknowledge them? But then one finally broke through.

Trainer_Of_Cunts: I will be at the downtown Starbucks on Capital in Indianapolis at 6:00pm Friday precisely. I will not be there at 6:02.

This was different. No hello, no lame attempt to explain where they're coming from or become friends first. I looked at her profile. One grainy picture of a figure in thigh-high boots and a corset holding a crop. Her fetishes were pretty extreme. I checked out her commenting history. She was opinionated, divisive. A lot of people didn't seem to like her. She was active in a political group. I didn't agree with her politics at all.

Friday is a tough day for me. I actually had to arrange to leave work early to make it to that Starbucks by 6. Luckily, I was going against commuter traffic, but I was also competing with Friday night date traffic. I made it in by 5:50 and looked around. No one looked right. We hadn't bothered exchanging pictures or descriptions of course. We hadn't even communicated beyond her initial message. I hadn't ever responded. I ordered a coffee and sat down with my back to the wall. At 5:55, a heavyset woman who looked to be in her 60's entered. Her dyed blonde hair was done up in a 60's sort of bun. Her skirt and blouse ensemble looked expensive. So did her heels. She bought a single smart water, and came right over to my table. She grabbed my coffee, poured it down the trash, then sat down and placed the water in front of me.

"I'll need you to stay hydrated. Drink", she said.

"How do you know you're at the right table?" I asked.

She did not dignify my question with a verbal response, or even a smile. She just pointed down at that water bottle, with an impatient look on my face. She was waiting on me to obey her first command, and clearly she did not enjoy waiting.

It was ToC all right. It had to be. I opened the bottle, took a sip, and set it down.

"No", ToC said, "we will not be setting it down. All of it."

I gulped. Then I picked the bottle back up, and started drinking. She just looked at me. I was intimidated, as I drank the whole thing in front of her, while she silently judged me, sizing me up. After I was done, I set the bottle down, and we just sat there for about 5 minutes. All that fluid started doing something to me of course. ToC ushered me up, into the line for the ladies room. When it was my turn, she came in with me, and guided us both into a stall...a regular stall, not the handicapped. It was cramped in there, barely enough room for the two of us to stand.

ToC lifted up my skirt.

"Come on, get on with it."

I lowered my panties and sat down. But, I couldn't go, even though I really had to now. I mean, how could I, with this woman's legs touching my knees in this cramped stall? ToC didn't pay any attention to me. She was looking at her phone. Finally, her patience started to wear.

"It's been 3 and a half minutes."

There was an implied threat to that casual statement about the time. Or, maybe it was just my imagination. I closed my eyes, and tried to shut everything out. And finally...FINALLY...the pee started dribbling out. Then I relaxed enough to let it all out, and a steady stream filled the toilet.

I reflected on how this felt as I pee'ed. I felt like a little girl, with her stern mother watching over her. Me, a 48-year old woman.

As soon as the last drop of urine dripped out of me, ToC guided me up by the arm. She wadded out some toilet paper, and reached in to wipe me. Then...

"Pull them up."

I pulled up my panties, and ToC lead us out of the stall. She washed her hands, and then, wiped them dry on the back of my blouse instead of using a towel.

"My home is two miles away", she said. "You can follow me in your car."

ToC lived in a pretty typical looking suburban sprawl house, not a whole lot unlike the one I lived in before my divorce. As soon as we were inside, she had me sit on the couch and wait for her. She disappeared, and came back ten minutes later, looking quite different, and ready for action.

ToC was all in black leather. Bustier, gloves past her elbows, boots, and sheer fishnet tights. Her ensemble was completed by a thin choker. She really looked the part. She sported a riding crop in her hand.

"You are obviously badly in need of some training", ToC said, "I don't know who had you before me, but I can tell you, they did a shit job. Probably a man. They don't know what to do with cunts like you. You made me repeat my command to drink your water, and you took too long to pee in front of me. But don't worry. After tonight, you'll learn the value of obedience, and the price for disobedience."

She wasn't wrong.

CapCunt: I guess I had my first Domme tonight.

Kit-5: Really. I thought "we" had experience with women.

CapCunt: You know what I mean.

Kit-5: The first woman you chose, you mean.

CapCunt: Right.

Kit-5: So we're clear on that. What was she like?

CapCunt: Cruel. Cruel and...exacting. Not necessarily mean, but not nice by any means.

Kit-5: It's different, isn't it?

CapCunt: Yes, it is. She did all sorts of things to me. But mainly she beat me, with her riding crop. It hurts. It still hurts. She doesn't fuck women, just trains them. If I learn to be an obedient bitch for her, she'll invite some black men over to fuck me as a reward.

Kit-5: Are you going back?

CapCunt: Maybe.

I did go back of course. ToC had me. When she commanded, I drove out to her. And she did train me. It was the first actual training I'd ever received. I had very specific protocols to observe when I entered her house. ToC was very picky about how her boots were licked. She also started me on bathroom use control, forbidding me from going on days we got together until she allowed me to squat in her back yard.

When my obedience finally came up to an acceptable level, she did indeed reward me. Three black men came over one night, and my white middle-aged cunt was given to them as a gift. They put me on a dining room table and warmed up exploring my body. I wish I could say they spent the whole night fucking me, just cock after cock after cock. I'm sure that would have been heaven. But it didn't end up that way. They put me on my back, and one of them tilted my head back so I could take his cock in my mouth. He didn't shove it in all the way, even though my throat was positioned for it. Then I felt another one climb on stop of me, and slide his cock into my cunt. As soon as I was in, I felt the third one at my back door. He stood behind us, and opened my ass up with his cock. How the men in my cunt and ass were able to handle the positioning for that was beyond me. I couldn't see anything, since my head was stretched up the other way to accommodate that cock I was sucking. Once the cock had hit bottom in my ass, I experienced a pretty intense and amazing feeling. They were big and they were young, they were ready to fuck, and they did just that. Once the cocks in my pussy and ass got going, the man in my mouth starting pumping as well, facefucking me. Being filled in my pussy and my ass while trying not to gag with the cock fucking my throat was almost too much for me. I felt like my body was being stretched in all directions as I was impaled. The men did not hold back once they started. They fucked me to cum. It didn't take them long, sadly, although I don't know how much my body could have taken. Luckily, the men in my pussy and ass held their cocks there after they came, while the man in my mouth took longer. I was able to squeeze my hand down between my body and the man on top of me to rub myself into an orgasm. I came just before the man ramming my mouth came down my throat. Good thing too. After the last man came inside me, ToC sent me home so that she could warm them back up and get fucked herself.

After that, ToC was done with me. She sent me a final message.

ToC: I have an associate you will meet with from now on. The date is set for three weeks from today, on Saturday the 12

th

at 700pm. She stays at the Hotel Carlyle in Chicago, so you will have to factor in the time to drive there. Meet her in the restaurant. She will know what to do with you.

ToC was moving on. I was trained as far as she was concerned, and her interest in me was over. I never heard from her again.

In the meantime, I kept up my steady rendezvous schedule. I needed cock, after all. And Kit-5 and I were still in the middle of something. We didn't know what, but we knew it was something.

The next shift in our dynamic happened when Kit-5 came to visit. A married Dom wanted me for a Friday. I was about to decline, since it was the night Kit-5 was flying in. But then I didn't. I just confirmed that I would be there. When that Friday came around, I picked up Kit-5 in Indianapolis as usual, and I drove her to a restaurant as usual, but this one was in a hotel. We always had dinner as soon as she'd landed. But this time I led her to a table where a man was sitting, and sat down. I told her to get a chair and join us, which she did. She was confused. So was the Dom. All I offered by way of explanation was this:

"She'll have what I'm having. Then we'll be ready to go up to the room."

The Dom was staring at a potential threesome, and must have figured it best not to say anything to fuck it up. Who says men are stupid? Kit-5 and I never asked each other questions, so she didn't bother. It was a fast, quiet meal. Since I didn't introduce her or even talk to her, the Dom followed my lead. Some Dom, huh?

He did indeed get his threesome experience with us. After a little bit of fumbling, he realized the way to go was to treat her exactly as he treated me. So Kit-5 got whipped and spanked and tied up just like I did. We switch-sucked the Dom's cock, and he made it into all of our holes before the night was over. But he chose to cum in her ass. It was a fresh piece of ass, after all.

Kit-5 followed suit, and the next time I was in Portland, I was the surprise guest for a rendezvous with a Dom of hers. We started doing this regularly with other Doms, and I'm sure they all felt they hit the jackpot.

I mean, what man doesn't dream of a surprise threesome where he has to put in zero work to set it up, and one of the women doesn't even talk at all?