Cute Girls

The Power Between My Legs

“This story happened because I read about a crazy Victorian who tunnelled under Liverpool, England and created amazing underground rooms during the late 19th Century. I was brought up there and thought back to my times in the late 60’s when I had my first definitive view of a woman’s cunt, thanks to Michelle, an out-and-out exhibitionist who showed her pussy off regularly as a young woman. Years later she recounted her tales of submission, but as I listened she held me captivated by her unwitting inner force. I realised that power had controlled her lovers and players. I’ve written this fictitious account from her perspective, using the language she used with me. It is about the power that was and is centred between her legs…”

*

I’d always known that once my pussy hairs grew and my tits took shape, no male with any knowledge of female plumbing could resist a peek up my skirts. When I was 18 and in my last year of school I used to love sneaking into the toilets at the end of the day and stripping off my little white panties before heading for the bus. I was always soaking before I got them off. And no, I had not pissed myself. Golden showers were a pleasure I was to learn later. I digress.

Back to my tale. My gusset was always soaking from the thrill of knowing that in a short while men would be straining to see my pretty bush and my prominent sex lips. I loved the feeling of fear that someone might complain and the excitement that five or six people, sometimes as many as ten, would be within inches of my snatch and mesmerised by its slick wetness.

You see, what I used to do was catch an Atlantian one stop out of the depot at Liverpool. They were our new buses. The Corporation had spent millions on them and they were the latest in bus technology. I knew this because my dad used to tell me about his time bus spotting and how once these new charabancs came along that was the end of his hobby. There was no point. They were the finest buses, ever.

And I thought so too. The old Routemasters had steep stairs, which meant they were great for people to stare up the mini-skirts of the day, but it was too bloody cold to stand on them half way up with a bare cunt. Now the Atlantians had enclosed doors. I could stand in my favourite spot, above the heads of the ‘boys’ of the Upper Sixth and the men who crowded the alighting platform behind the driver.

I always put one foot on a step two above the other. I’d wait until George, the son of my butcher, sat on the bottom step. He always positioned himself there and no one ever jostled him out of the way. Mind you he was a big strong lad. I really liked him. He’d tip his head back and say something nice to me, his eyes unable to resist peeking under the grey pleats. I knew he was in heaven by the bulge that at first he had hidden on the earlier trips from school. Over time he became more emboldened and let me see the tent behind that satchel he strategically placed in his lap. My God! By the size of that tent his father had produced more than prize sausages. It had got me thinking, as I swayed with the rhythm of the bus, whether his dad would be worth a peek in the back of the shop. I wanted to see if he had a chipolata or a bratwurst. Whatever, I was always impressed by George’s control. It must have been no mean feat to resist touching that monster and at the same time maintain a conversation with me as if he could not see my swollen clitty and sex.

Of course the others had begun to cluster around him along with, after about a month of trying this, three very swarthy but handsome men from the foundry. They were uncouth, unlike the posh young men from the private school. However, I could see through their dirty blue overalls that although more subtle in how they played the game of looking up my skirt, their cocks were huge too. I wondered at times if they had showered before they left the factory. My mind used to imagine a dirty, grit-covered cock forcing between my legs. I would be dripping just standing there thinking about it.

That particular day, which sits so well in my depraved little mind, I’d stripped off my knickers so fast I’d ripped them in my haste. Then I’d donned my mother’s suspender belt and her best stockings. I knew she’d have grounded me for weeks if she had found out. She used to say you had to be over 21 and ‘aware of the world’ before you wore such man-enticing wear. She was right about the last bit, but I was damned if I was going to wait that long to entrap a man. And that day something more than unusual happened.

You see, I’d been teasing them all for so long that looking back I can recognise that it was inevitable. You can’t send ten virile young men home every day with raging hard-ons. Like all men they need their relief but at the time I was so naïve. That was the paradox. At one level I knew precisely what I was doing to excite them, but having got them there I was essentially clueless except in knowing that pleasure was derived from putting the biggest possible thingies in my young hole. I knew that from when I put my fingers there. The more I put in the greater the pleasure I used to get. One day I’d got right up to my wrist! Nowadays I know that is called fisting. In those times I just thought if a baby can come out of it, then a hand can surely go up it. Then, it was very tight and I broke my hymen one very bloody but fulfilling night. I am now extremely practiced at relaxing to let huge cocks and other objects enter me. I love it!

Well, back to my story. My route used to take me past the park and my stop was at the end of the vast site and beside a thicket that had grown around the entrance to a subterranean banqueting hall. Yes, that may sound strange but some nutty eccentric had built under 19th century Liverpool a series of chambers and tunnels: including below a park a full dining and dancing hall. I knew about this because my father was with the surveying team that researched the Parks for historical records and had found it. This was the passion that had replaced the bus spotting. My father was obsessed with the history of this mad tunneller and I have to admit, so was I but for other reasons.

When I got off this particular day I had not noticed something. I was so wet and horny from my latest exhibitionist trip that I had missed the fact that not one of the them had got off at their usual stops. When I alighted, so did a pack of ten males, all aroused and all with dangerous weapons between their thighs who dashed off ahead of me. Oh yes those erect cocks were deadly in the wrong hands as I was soon to find out.

I walked across the park, swinging my hips self-consciously as I always did. I loved to feel the sway and know the reaction I would create in men and women who were behind me. Personally, my concentration was eventually distracted to my bare wet pussy lips that were deliciously rubbing against each other as I walked. I felt even more aroused this day, possibly aware in my sub-conscious of what could occur.

I was just passing the entrance to the subterranean hall - my father had taken me there at the weekend, so proud of the work he had done, which was close to completion. Out of the bushes sprung one of the swarthy foundry workers. I gasped as I saw he was without his shirt, the muscles rippling and shiny in the heat of the summer sun. Next to him was George, wearing the most wicked smile but looking so adorable. He had no shirt either.

“So slut, are we to get nothing but glimpses of your cunt?”

“I, I don’t know what you mean,” I said, panic sending a shiver down me, yet thrilled simultaneously

“Oh, come on whore!” said the swarthy man, whom later I got to know as Jack. “We’ve all seen your pussy and you know it. No one gets such a gushing cunny if they are not turned on by being watched.”

Jack’s language was beginning to turn me on. But how did I play this? I was barely legal and terribly naïve despite the games on the bus and things girls had shared at school. I began to drop my head, suddenly feeling I needed to be obedient for this man. No one had taught me, I just knew, and I liked being that way.

“Sorry, s-sir.” I blurted out in a half whisper.

“Follow me!” he snapped and disappeared between a clump of Rhododendrons. I got my hair tangled in the undergrowth, letting out an all-too-loud scream. Neither of them took my hand to guide me, I was just allowed to get scratched and hack my way through.

I was taken down a long tunnel lit by an array of oil lamps. I discovered much later that they found this entrance thanks to George’s uncle who was working with my dad on the survey. He had seen some shading on an aerial shot of the site. But for me at the time, I was swearing and cursing as my skirt got ripped and my blouse also torn. I had tears in my eyes and my legs were a mass of scratches too. Yet strangely, if I had listened properly to my body I’d have known I was ready to be humiliated and treated roughly by a man. And later, by a series of women too; though that is another tale for another time.

It was amazing! At the end of the tunnel was a huge ballroom. Its walls were lined with mirrors and the place was absolutely spotless if a little musty. The floor was a stained oak herringbone design and in the ceiling were chandeliers that gave an eerie glow of candlelight. It was quite dim in spite of the myriad of candles and slightly menacing but thrilling. Like nothing I’d ever seen before.

Nothing I’d ever seen was an understatement! As my eyes grew used to the subdued light I saw them. Ten strong males were standing, each in front of an old cane chair. Their cocks were rampant, erect and clearly only recently freed of clothes as they pulsed and bounced in the faintly stale air. I was immediately drawn to George. He was massive!

What was I to do? One half of my brain was seized in fear. Were they going to rape me? The other was filled with utter desire and lust for those heavy pieces of meat. Not one of them was tiny. Yes, Simon was a little shorter than the others but I could see it had such girth that it would be like my fist had been. I found myself parading up and down the line, staring, comparing, then lightly touching and caressing. And yet still the undercurrent of fear, making my skin shiver and my head race with the alarm bells my mother had planted in there. Yes, I was going to be made very aware of the world.

Jack stepped forward.

“Right, Seline isn’t it?”

I was completely speechless.

“Answer me, slut!” he shouted.

I couldn’t help it, I started to cry.

“Shut up you snivelling whore!”

I stopped immediately, totally obedient to his commands.

“Yes Sir, I’m Seline,” I whispered in total deference to him. I’d called him ’sir’ because I did not know how else to address him and not due to knowing the BDSM conventions.

And that is the moment I realised it. I was completely turned on by the subservience and reliance on Jack. I felt the trickle of juice down my thigh. A few words and I wanted him to totally control me. I was a bitch, a slut, a whore. Of course I was. I’d displayed my cunt openly to anyone who wanted to see. What more could I expect to be called?

“Follow me.”

His voice was so authoritative. He was stark staring naked, his cock thick and long, slapping up against his belly as he walked. I kept my head down, instinctively obedient but also able to stare surreptitiously at the monster examples of young manhood. Now I was in deep. You see, for all my games and sex play I was a virgin. The only thing that had touched my vagina - and what a strange word I have always thought that was - was my fist and a few toys I’d fashioned from household objects, such as deodorant bottles and once a washing-up liquid bottle!

As I followed, so the group formed around me, following too. George came in to stand at my left and Frank at my right. They were leading me to the far end of the ballroom. All I could hear was my breathing and the clip-clop of my shoes on the wooden floor. My breasts, which were full and shapely, rose and fell in sharp breaths. My stomach was churning, fearful yet excited. My cunt? Well, that was on fire. It wanted something, something that it had never had before and I knew I was going to get it, here in this strange subterranean vault. Then I saw it in front of me.

It was an old school desk. Well, old style now though at the time so common. These were not like the modern ones with their separate table and chair. No, this had the seat joined to the desk by two rungs of iron. Bit like a sleigh I always thought.

“Stand in front of it,” Jack said, again in that firm, authoritative voice. How could I refuse him?

“Take off your clothes.”

“But…” Suddenly I was very afraid.

“Take off your clothes and give them to George.”

Now the voice was silky, enticing. How could I refuse? But how could I go on too? There were ten rampant cocks behind me, no protection for me, and why this desk? OK, I would do it. I was shaking. But I was also wet as anything. The juice was running between my legs. The stockings would have to be washed or mum would smell my young musk all over them. A wicked thought came in a flash, to leave them like that and dare her to comment. In reality they were not repairable from all the cuts and scratches but my mind was playing a game. Then the prod came.

“Hurry up!” shouted one of the other factory workers. Ken was his name I came to learn. He was later to become a famous comedian, but for now he was just a man with a very hungry cock. When I turned, startled to look at him I could see the pre-cum (well, I know what it is now but I had no clue then) oozing form the tip.

So I did hurry. Off came the blouse, already ripped so a few more buttons made no difference, and down came the skirt in a trice. Ok, now I know that it was not very seductive but I was a young eighteen-year-old slut with no idea what I was up to other than that slit between my legs was hungry and needed as much feeding as their cocks needed a good plunge. However, for all that I heard the gasps. I knew I was pretty and I thought it was that. I was such an innocent! It was really my trim little bush framed by the suspender belt that was turning them on.

“Leave them on.”

It was George now, pointing to the belt and stockings. Tights were rare then, which is why men of a certain age are so turned on by the expanse of thigh between hip and stocking top.

“Lose that bra,” said another one of the boys. Oh, sweet Stuart. I got to know him too by name much later. He turned out to love cross-dressing. Amazingly manly but totally obsessed with women’s clothing. I did more dressing up with him over the next few years than with my girlfriends, but that again is another tale for another time. I unhooked the front fasteners and let my globes spill out. I knew they were beautiful and loved this sensation as gravity took command. They bounced gently and stilled.

“And address us as ‘Sirs’ when you speak.”

Now this order was very unusual to my young mind, even though I had automatically used it earlier. Here I was, still just a teenager, having to call others by such a formal name. I’d only done that for my teachers and visitors to my Mam’s shop. I never found out who had had the idea of using domination, some of the cocks out there were only as old as me, but domme me they all did.

“Yes, er, Sirs, erm, Sir.”

I was stammering and stuttering, being made to know my place. In reality I was revelling in it. My body just yearned for this type of attention. My real father had always been a disciplinarian and I had loved him to bits. My new one was a soft get with no backbone. I’d seen him sneak his looks under my skirt when I sat on the couch watching TV and I’d opened my legs to tease him, but he was too wet to do anything. Mum was the one in control even if she did appear to let him command her. For all her subservience to him, I knew she was in charge. I wanted to be like her.

And I knew that I was on my way now to be that way too. I was subservient at one level, but I was to find out years later the subbie has more power than they think. What I did not know at the time of this adventure was how to use it.

By now they had me naked, in only my suspenders and stockings and lying back against the cold oak of the desk. Jack produced some rope and I was hog-tied to the furniture with my pussy jutting out and on offer to whoever chose to have it. My back was arched and my arms tied by lengths of rope to the iron frame. My ankles had been tied too and were also attached to the frame. I reckoned that the men had modified the desk at the foundry, adding a set of loops in strategic places.

There was complete silence. All that could be heard was the sound of heavy breathing. The atmosphere was thick with lust. I could smell my cunt’s sweet aroma wafting up and I knew, If I could detect it then these horny men would be intoxicated by it. I felt more juice dribble from me. I was soaking. My nipples hardened at the thought, knowing that I was so vulnerable but like a siren attracting ships onto the rocks. I was at the centre. Everything was commanded by my cunt now, no matter what fine authoritative words they used.

“Right, form a line and give this slut what she has been so desperately gagging for these last few months.”

There was no ceremony about it. Jack was on me, his cock in me in a flash. His teeth pulled at my nipples. His throat gave little groans that grew and grew in loudness and frequency. My God he was big! I could see that in comparison with the others. I remember thinking he was like a very pink cucumber. Yes he was huge. So was George and I could see him behind in the line. Jack was pumping and pumping away, his breath rasping and he was so animal on my body. I’ve him to thank for my fetish for rough working types dominating me.

Then the others were complaining.

“Come on Jack, we’re fucking horny here. Can’t you come or something?”

Oh no, I didn’t want him to come. I wanted him to go on and on in me. My cunt squeezed at his cock, loving the thickly veined shaft. He was filling me so well and I was having little orgasms one after the other. It was beautiful. My tits ached from his savage bites and sucks but I loved that too. I liked the cruelty of it and yet the pleasure I experienced as well. And as I looked around, I was blessed with the sight of so many young cocks, gleaming and proud. His hips bucked into me, his hard body pummelling my softness. And then he came with a thunderous roar and a groan. I felt the sudden heat in me, his cum splashing up inside and his teeth biting into my naked breast.

“Thank you slut,” he whispered in my ear, giving it a lascivious lick as he pulled out of me. I could feel his cum dribble down my thigh. Yes, these stockings were going to be ruined but in the best possible way I’d thought.

Then George was on me. He grabbed my breasts, as if not sure what to do with them, pulling them, tweaking the hard nubs. His dick felt wonderful as it slid in on Jack’s cum. He was such a massive boy, not fat but muscular and I could feel his hard body grinding against me. My thoughts were all about how I wanted him to really fuck me hard. Jack had been too gentle I realised for what I liked, for all his animal bites and scratches. No, George needed to be more like I was with myself, with my fist. The words just flew out of my mouth.

“Yes, fuck me sir. Hurt me with your hands and your cock. Be cruel, please. Please sir,” I was pleading loudly and urgently. “Please sir come hard into me.”

George looked startled at first but then he was on me. He was like one of his father’s prize bulls. He stretched and pinched my tits, pulling them down to the sides as far as they would go, then grasping them and offering them to my own mouth. My, I’d never even thought of that but lapping his fingers with my teats trapped between them was heaven. He had found something new to do that was both cruel and exciting: the pleasure and the pain exquisite.

“Story isn’t over yet.” Jessica smiled. “So Sandra is lying on the bed with her legs open waiting and her eyes closed, I’m between her and I lower my head a bit, wait a second and then pounce up onto her, I hold her arms down and smother her with my breasts.”

“Which you did for two minutes before I finally submitted.” Sandra said as plain as day.

“You’re a freak girl.” Jessica said. “I have never seen anything like it.”

Sandra just shrugged; she had her own unique way of having fun in the bed.

“I think keeping her locked is a good idea Mistress Katrina” Samantha said.

“Perhaps we should take her back with us, you know as a play toy.” Abby played on Samantha’s jealousy.

“Four play toys for two dommes is enough.” Natasha said. “But she is always welcome to visit with Katrina and Steven I guess.”

“Four play toys? Try five, what about your new conquest?” Jessica suddenly became unhappy.

“Not this again.” Amber said cringing.

“Is this about your new boy?” Katrina asked interested.

“He’s not yet, he is halfway through is 4 week probationary period at work, then I lock him up and ask the big question.” Natasha said.

“What is he like?”

“Cute” Amber said.

“Very cute.” Abby agreed.

“I’ll show you a picture a later.” Natasha said.

“So you think he is the one?” I asked.

“Definitely, I just feel something right.”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “He’s ten years younger than you, barely out of school and never had a girlfriend; he’s a boy in a man’s body.”

“For all we know he could be gay anyway, he’s never had a girlfriend and a virgin” Amber said.

“How do you know?” Jenny asked.

“We went to lunch together last week, I was nice and he let his guard down, I found out a lot.”

“Good, a blank canvas ready to be turned into a masterpiece.” Natasha said happy with what she will acquire.

“What’s his name anyway?” I asked

“Adam.” Natasha answered

“I don’t see why you need him anyway, you have us.” Jessica said.

“We’ve been through this before Jessica. I want to get married eventually and perhaps have my own children.”

“If that happens, I’m leaving.”

“And I’m going with her” Samantha said.

Jessica put her arm around Samantha and pulled her close.

“I’m sorry to hear that but I never expected either of you to stay forever.” Natasha said a little upset.

“We’ll still visit, right?” Samantha asked.

“Sure.” Jessica answered.

“So what are we doing today?” I asked finishing off my cereal.

“We’re going into the city to look around and then we are going to visit my sister Rebecca.” Natasha answered.

“Sounds like fun.” I replied.

“Not for you.” Katrina said. “You’re staying here to do chores; the grass needs to be cut, the gardens weeded and the windows washed plus all the usual chores.”

“But Mistress, please let me go.”

“No.”

“Can I have some help then, there is a lot to do.”

“No but for asking you can now do the chores butt plugged and in heavy bondage, is there anything else you would like to say slave?”

“No Mistress.”

The other slaves forced back their smiles.

“Good, now start by cleaning this mess.”

—

Katrina was going to put me in heavy bondage but she thought it would be too unsafe to be up a ladder cleaning windows with no use of my hands. So instead she settled for a buttplug, gag and the usual shackles I wore to bed with the chains shortened a bit.

It didn’t make the chores any easier though, I almost fell off the ladder a few times and fell over cutting the grass more times than I could count.

I was outside in the backyard weeding the garden as the sun set, due to the way I was shackled my face was almost against the dirt, Katrina will probably watch the video later to amuse herself.

“Steven, come in.” I heard Katrina’s voice from the back door.

Everyone sat on the lounges kicking their shoes off, walking around the city always hurt for those not used to it.

“Kneel slave.” Katrina ordered and then removed my gag.

I knelt down at Katrina’s feet; she placed a fry in my mouth.

“Chores done?” Katrina asked eating some fries herself.

“Almost Mistress.”

“Its okay, finish them tomorrow.” Katrina placed some fries on a piece of paper on the floor. “On all fours slave.” She ordered.

I got on all fours and ate the fries with my mouth; Katrina rested her feet on my back, she rubbed the rear shield of my belt a little bit, pushing in the buttplug a little further.

“Can we trust you slaves to stay out trouble by yourselves tonight?” Natasha asked.

Of course the answer was a yes from all of us.

“Where are you going?” Samantha asked.

“I’m going to a needle play workshop.” Jessica answered.

Abby and Samantha both looked a little nervous.

“Katrina and I are taking Jennifer to a rope play workshop.” Natasha said. “Might check out the advanced class while we are there.”

“I know how to make a noose, thank you.” Jenny interrupted.

“Well use it.” Samantha said loudly.

“Let me guess I could beg not to go but I’ll end up going anyway so I’ll save the effort now and just say this is a waste of all our time and do I get to practise on you?” Jenny smiled.

“Thank you for being so enthusiastic and sit up straight.” Natasha said.

Jenny sprung up from slouching in the chair and sat up straight.

“I’m leaving no one in charge tonight.” Katrina said. “But Sandra’s choice outweighs everyone else’s, so she gets to pick to watch what’s on TV.”

Sandra smiled innocently.

“I’ll just get Steven out of these restraints and we’ll be off.” Katrina finished.

—

Sandra was watching some heavy metal rock concert on television, she was really engrossed in it but it bored the rest of us. We sat about on the lounges looking at the TV, each other and things around the room.

All of us were naked, except for our chastity, including Sandra which gave me something extra to look at. Samantha was also having a good look at the other girls out of the corner of her eye.

“What are you looking at?” Abby asked towards me.

Samantha panicked and changed the direction of here eyes. “Nothing.”

“I was talking to Steven but it applies to you also.”

“Shut up, I’ll look where I want.” Samantha acted tough.

“For someone who only loves Jessica you do seem to look else where.” I said.

“For someone who only loves Katrina you do seem to look at everyone else here.” Samantha threw it back at me.

“I’m an admirer of the superior female form.” I joked a little.

“Yes we are superior aren’t we?” Abby said.

“Some more superior than others.” Samantha said talking about herself.

“Superior mouth.” Amber said softly.

“Samantha is one of those bitchy lesbians like Jessica, next thing you know she’ll shave her head and start doing weights.” Abby laughed.

“Um idiots, I’m pure woman and I hate men, so why would I want to act like one?” Samantha said getting annoyed.

“How about you all shut up.” Sandra said turning up the volume on the TV.

Everyone quietened down for a little while, well for like a minute.

“I’m bored.” Abby said sitting up and looking around for something to do.

“Do chores.” I said.

“I’m not that bored.”

“How about you and Amber kiss.” I suggested.

“Kiss this.” Amber said half turning around and pointing to her butt.

“Sure.” I pretended to get up off the lounge.

“Go away!” Amber took back her offer.

“I wouldn’t mind kissing one or all of you girls.” Sandra said. “You know, to see how good you all are.”

“Oh look it’s the wanna-be slave and the wanna-be lesbian.” Samantha teased. “You’re nothing.”

“Why would I want to be a slave for? The situation I am in now is great, I come here for some fun and then I get to go home afterwards.”

“Yeah but you want to be like us, no freedom, no control and no sex.” Abby said.

Sandra knew they were right, she wanted to be deep down like them, she didn’t know if she would like it but she sure wanted to try it.

“I’m a virgin and I live with my parents, I’m used to having none of those things.”

“You’re not a virgin anymore.” Samantha said. “You have had a bit of sexual experience now with Katrina and Jessica, you just haven’t been tainted by a man, I would love to be like that.”

“You only want to be like that because Jessica is like that.” Abby said.

“I’d love to be with a man, someone nice like Steven would be great.” Sandra said.

I looked at Sandra wishing she hadn’t said that because Katrina might take offence to it, but I thought about it some more and it didn’t bother me, the worst that can happen is that Katrina forgets that it was ever said or the best that could happen is Sandra won’t be allowed to see me anymore.

“I don’t get what’s so good about Steven.” Amber said “Katrina loves him so much she has trouble thinking straight, Jenny used to love him and probably still does, Samantha wanted him for a while too and now you Sandra. I just don’t get it.”

“Who knows, Steven is just another average guy out there, nothing special.” Abby said.

“Maybe so, but the world would be a better place if everyone was like me.” I said seriously.

They all laughed at me.

“But Steven is cute, good hearted and nice when he isn’t been rude and sexiest.” Sandra looked over towards me.

“Nope, don’t see it.” Amber said.

“Me neither.” Abby agreed.

Samantha was strangely silent.

We left our conversation there; everyone was getting tired and was no longer in the mood to argue with each other. Sandra fell asleep on the lounge first and I rested my tired eyes and waited for Katrina to come home.

—

“Arrrghh” I tried to scream but Amber had her hand over my mouth and Abby was holding me down.

Samantha was pulling a pair of woman’s pants up my legs; she already had a pair of panties on me. Those psychos were feminizing me.

Once the pants were buttoned up she tied my legs together. I was then pushed forward off the lounge and a bra forced onto me, it was stuffed with socks and other things giving me a very large bust, a tight shirt was then forced on over that. My hands were then tied behind my back in such away that amplified the size of my breasts.

A ring gag was forced into my mouth, there were gags left around all over the house in case Katrina ever felt the need to shut me up, they were very easy to find.

Abby and Amber held my head still while Samantha applied makeup to my cheeks, eyes and lips. They finished me off by styling my hair.

The slaves returned to their lounges and sat down to admire there work. Sandra had slept through it all.

“I’ll think we’ll call her Stevie.” Samantha said.

“To Stevie, one of us girls.” Abby said.

“Oh we’re so dead.” Amber said fearing for the future but currently amused with her creation.

I agreed with Amber, they were going to die.

“Let me go.” I tried to mumble past the gag.

“What was that Stevie? You want to blow?” Samantha said knowing full well what I said.

“Aww Stevie is a cum slut, she wants to give blow jobs.” Abby laughed.

I struggled against the bond for a little while, but it was no use, I was going to have to wait for Katrina.

—

Katrina arrived home hours later she stepped into the lounge room to see how we were. She just stood at the door trying to find some words to say.

“Oh welcome back everyone.” Samantha said. “I’d like you to introduce you to Stevie, a new female slave.”

“She’s hot don’t you think?” Abby laughed.

Amber shrunk into the lounge fearing the worst.

“What the hell! Those are my clothes!” Jenny screamed.

The sounds of everyone woke Sandra up from her deep sleep. “Huh, what? Oh you’re home.” She turned to face me. “What the hell! That’s my makeup.”

Jessica looked at me and was bemused. “I hear implants and oestrogen treatments work better slaves. Keep that in mind but nice work none the less.”

“Hmm her breasts are a little lopped sided, but they are a nice size though.” Natasha laughed.

Katrina finally opened her mouth to let some words form. “I don’t want to know, I just don’t want to know but she is sort of hot.”

I protested against my situation but I was ignored.

Katrina walked over to me and kissed me on the cheek. “Sleep well Stevie, we’ll get to know each other in the morning.” She pushed me over making me lay on my side on the lounge.

“Good night Stevie.” Everyone else said.

—

Katrina removing my gag and untying my hands and feet woke me up.

“Oh thank you Mistress, let me get cleaned up.” I said glad to see her.

“I didn’t say get changed Stevie, come to the table for breakfast.”

As I stood up Katrina came from behind me and felt my breasts. “You wish yours were this good, don’t you?” I said sarcastically.

“Not bad.” Katrina whispered in my ear.

We both went into the dining room for breakfast; everyone had a smirk on their face

“What are you looking at?” I said in the rudest tone possible.

“I can’t help it” Jessica laughed. “I have a thing for females.”

“Yeah well have a piece of this then.” I said pushing my fake breasts together.

“Okay everyone calm down and leave him I mean her alone.” Katrina smiled.

“How was last night?” Amber changed the subject. She felt uneasy talking about what she got up to last night; she feared she might be punished.

“Great.” Jessica answered. “The needle play class was so fun and I brought a whole lot of needles and other equipment.”

“Good thing you’ll never use that stuff right.” Samantha said feeling uneasy.

“Oh yes I will and it will be much sooner than later.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there to supervise it all.” Natasha said. “Jennifer would you like to tell everyone about your rope class.”

“I tied knots.” Jenny really didn’t feel like talking about it.

“Yes and?”

“I need a partner to tie and Katrina was it. Revenge is sweet.” Jenny smiled. “Too bad we can’t go back next week so I can learn the hogtie and the frog tie hey Katrina.”

Yes revenge is sweet I thought to myself and looking at Samantha, Abby and Amber.

“How disappointing.” Katrina faked her feelings on the matter.

“Lady Natasha, may I ask how your night with Sandra was.” I asked forcing a subject change of my own.

Natasha gave the key back to Katrina. “Jessica is right, keep the girl locked up and shackled and never ever let her gain the upper hand.”

“Fun isn’t she.” Katrina smiled.

“Oh yeah.” Natasha smiled back.

“You aren’t to bad yourself.” Sandra said rubbing some dark bruises on her arms.

“Anyway, Sandra, you’re on the lounge tonight, Natasha and Jessica will be joining me.” Katrina said.

“Fair enough.” Sandra didn’t care; she was pleased with her two nights of fun.

We continued our breakfast all eyes were still on me and everyone was having trouble hiding there smiles, no one had even thought about punishing Samantha, Abby and Amber yet.

“Two more nights to the wedding.” Katrina was getting more excited by the day.

“I have been meaning to ask.” I said. “Do I get to have one last night of freedom, you know, a bachelors party?”

“Hmmm no.” Katrina laughed at me.

“But its tradition.”

“You may have not noticed yet but I’m not that big on tradition, there will be no white bride, no wedding rings and no bachelor’s party, I’m not even going to take your surname and you will be taking mine.”

“What? You have taken everything else of mine and now you decide you don’t want my last name.”

That brought on a few chuckles from some.

“I think we are all in agreement here that Katrina Lacardi is much better than Katrina Cox.”

“Steven Lacardi sounds okay I guess, looks like I’ll have to work on a new signature.”

“Why bother, you can keep the scribble you currently do, no one will know.” She smiled.

“Since you have pretty much destroyed all wedding traditions does that mean I get to see you before the wedding?”

“Nope, I like that tradition, you’ll be locked away in the dungeon after breakfast and then I’ll see you at the wedding.”

“What? Two days in the dungeon?”

“Just you and your thoughts, so eat up now it’s your last meal until after the wedding.”

After breakfast I was taken up to Katrina’s room, where she removed my clothes, makeup and butt plug from the night before.

She put her arms around me and we gave each other a long hug, she sounded upset but I really couldn’t work out why. I guess this was the last we were going to see of each until we were married.

“He must go now.” I heard Natasha say.

Katrina moved away from me and smiled as a few tears streamed down her face.

I walked over to Natasha and Jenny who were at the door; they took me by the arms and led me away.

We stood at the entrance at the door to a small spare room in the dungeon. This room was always too small to be useful; you couldn’t swing a cat by the tail in it. However Katrina had seen fit to have a metal door on it.

“Step in” Natasha ordered while pushing me in at the same time.

I went inside the pitch black room, I turned around to face the door.

“No shackles, or anything else like that?”

“No slave.” Natasha said. “Enjoy your freedom. We will come for you when it is time for the ceremony.”

“Goodbye Steven.” Jenny said.

Natasha closed the door and bolted it shut; there was not a hint of light in the room. I sat down where I stood alone with my thoughts.

—

There was no concept of time and space in this dungeon, everything felt like an eternity, although in reality it probably only killed a few minutes. You also had to keep your hands out in front of your face even though you couldn’t see them they stopped you from hitting the wall with your head.

It was hard to believe that it had been a year already. A year since I was taken in as a slave by Natasha and Katrina. So much had happened that if someone warned me of the future a year ago I would have never ever believe 1% of it.

Sure there was some bad times, some bad punishments, some regrets but in the end it has all worked out great. I have great friends, a job and very soon a loving wife. I couldn’t ask for anything more.

—

The door being opened and the light flooding the room woke me up. I stared at the doorway and could see two people step through and come towards me. They lifted me up off the ground.

Once my eyes adjusted to the light I noticed it was Natasha and Jenny holding me again.

“Come.” Natasha said.

They walked me to the water bondage room. I was forced to step into the tank that was embedded in the floor. I knew what this meant; I got on all fours waiting for my cleansing.

“The male slave will not speak. The male slave will now be prepared for the ceremony.” Natasha said in a robotic like voice. I received multiple enemas until the liquid that went into me was the same when it came out. I hadn’t eaten in days and the enemas left me feeling very weak and light headed, I wanted to beg for some food or rest but I didn’t want to disobey Natasha’s instructions.

“Drink.” Natasha said handing me a small bottle of foul smelling liquid.

I took the bottle and skulled it down in one gulp. I assumed it was intestinal supplements to help restore the good bacteria down there.

“The slave will stand.” Natasha said.

I got to my feet. My hands were restrained and my eyes blindfolded in the usual fashion when my chastity belt was to be removed.

The cool air felt good against my penis and balls, it took every once of my concentration to not to have an erection. Katrina had spent a lot of time and energy in training me to have an erection only on command.

I felt the gloved hands of Natasha and Jenny against my body waxing hair away and scrubbing it clean, they worked fast but carefully not to leave any visible marks that won’t quickly go away.

They even shaved my face with cream and a hot razor, it was probably the best shave I have ever had done. They also did my finger and toe nails, I was in for the full treatment.

Tags: Fetish, Story