Homecoming Ch. Deja Vu Ch. Small Cock Frustration Pt. Another Match A 4th of July themed wrestling match. Letter from Willesden Chasm The community helped the Rev find a dominant wife! Natalie is a Work of Art Pt. White Pineapple Pt. Karen Dreams of Submission Frustrated by vanilla boyfriend, she wants to be controlled. Stevie's Journey A straight boy loses control of his life and is transformed. Whore Face A wife is degraded and abused by her husband. Room Service I help my roommate Alex relax with a foot massage. Goodbye Carla, Hello Slut Divorced mother submits her body, then herself, to her son.
A Week End with Mistress Pt. It's Just Dinner Honey Wife tricks husband into inviting her ex bf to dinner. A Debt Owed An ex shows me how much I owe him. Sandy Foot Girl Ch. The Slave and His Master Ch. Roommates Who Strip Together Orgasms are had. Taking the Lad out of Alladin Ch. No Work and All Play Wife goes back to work Disciplining the Spoilt Brat Ch. Say Uncle Stanley moves in with his uncle after being outed. Letter from Collimore Plains Office hours don't quite go his way! Lois Lane is a Cuckquean?
Lois Lane tells Superman to bang Maxima while she watches. A Trio of Mean Girls Pt. It's a Process Therapy from a professional submissive can hurt The Corruption of Princess Lily Lily is captured and tested by a demon lord. The Business of Samantha Ch. Denied Denial and submission. Foreign Neighborhood Pt. Letter from Thistledown Tuft His little sis and her electrical play did alleviate boredom. I looked at the guy and I wanted to vomit and he just looked at like he was satisfied that he took away my virginity, and then I ran. The next days I couldn't sleep, I couldn't do anything.
Seniors were talking about it. I was angry, because they started calling me a slut, they started offering money so I could blow them. I was angry that the school administration didn't find out because it was everybody's little secret. The guy controlled everyone in my class, and when I had the guts to tell my friends what happened, they believed me but made fun of me for it. The witnesses - the two friends who saw me - didn't want to talk. It ruined me because every time I broke down, they would tell me to get over it because it was my fault anyways.
If it wasn't for my sensual vibe, that people wouldn't get the idea that I was still a virgin. That I wouldn't be called a slut. After a few weeks, our Christmas Party required that every girl would wear a dress, not less than two inches above the knee. Mine was three inches below the knee, and when I finally thought nobody would bother, our class picture was spammed with comments, slut shaming me for wearing a dress. My friends sided with the hate, because if I covered myself up nobody would think differently.
And that is where I learned that even if you wear pants, you could still be called a slut. The people who insist there's a right way women should act are just controllers, and I can't let them run my life. We shouldn't let them run our lives. I have been slut shamed on FB for flirting with guys and saying they're sexy. I've heard of this happening to other women too. They'll say you're being a creep, or would you tolerate a guy treating a woman this way. I feel a lot of it is women shaming women for having any sexual feelings.
Like policing other women's sexuality, for what reason, I don't know. Is it they feel threatened by women who own their sexuality, or women who just make more friends with guys than girls? If someone said back off I'll back off but it's never just that. It's usually some sort of accusation of being too sexual like, the last time it was, "Stop saying you want to bang my boyfriend! I do have a problem with taking things too personally, and they may have just decided to randomly go after me.
I think the worst thing is it's made me fearful of being friends with other women and trusting them. It seems they get a boyfriend and just go ballistic on every women they know. I really get upset at the thought of hurting anyone, but I think I need to start realizing in this situation the only thing I can do is leave. It's strange how this happens so often to guys yet if a man treated his girlfriend in a way like saying she can't have any contact with other guys everyone would be mad.
Of course there's all the stuff generally about men being abused by women and people not caring. I think what troubles me is I try to see it from their perspective, and all I can think is how can they hurt their partner like this? If you worry your guy is unfaithful talk to him about it. I mean I know abusers are about isolation, and most likely they're trying to isolate him. But maybe they're scared. I just know I'm tired of losing guy friends to this.
I also know I need to stop believing if I act right this won't happen. Why should someone feel they need to apologize for wanting to make someone happy? By talking about it, by airing my wounds, I feel like I can heal instead of fester. We met on Facebook through a mutual friend. We bridged the distance by sending intimate pictures and I didn't think much of it because we were planning to meet and it helped keep the relationship going.
Besides I had done it with other relationships I had been in and it hadn't been an issue. When I was finally about to fly out and meet him, it just didn't work out and I assumed we had left on good terms. After all, he was seeing someone else and posting her pictures on Facebook about a month later. I was genuinely happy for him and hoped everything worked out. We eventually got out of touch and I didn't think much of him until a little over a year later, when a co-worker pulled me aside and asked if some pictures he found were mine. Little did I know, my pictures I had sent him had been posted online.
I was horrified. What was even more horrific was another co-worker that I hadn't worked with in years also tracked me down to inform me my pictures were online. We weren't even stationed together - he was stationed in Japan at the time. I went to the JAG legal advocate and he was basically no help. The guy that had posted the pictures was part of a sex scandal at Lackland and as a parting gift when he was discharged, he posted the pictures.
The most we could do was go through the humiliating process of requesting the pictures be taken off the site. I wanted to believe the nightmare was over - but on sites like reddit and imgur where the pictures were posted there is a "like, comment and share" function like on Facebook. It had been shared over 20 times. It was only a matter of time before my pictures resurfaced. And they did a little over a year later, when a guy I went through a military course with found them on another site.
And then another 6 months later a stranger found me through Facebook to inform me about the pictures again It was affecting my personal life. I was wonderIng if life was worth living. It was never like this event was a single fixed point in my life that I couldn't walk away from. I was afraid of pursuing job opportunities for fear of how I'd look if someone had seen my pictures.
I was always on edge when I worked with people because I never knew if my professionalism was overshadowed because someone had seen my pictures online. I've been in a dark place for a long time, hiding my dirty little secret. It feels so hopeless because it'll never go away. It's always out there and even if it's buried, it just takes someone finding them, deciding to make the pictures their own and posting them on a site to make them new again. There is no such thing as "old news" with this. I finally decided that it was enough. The military has a sexual assault awareness and prevention program and I talked to the coordinator.
I needed to get it out. I've shared my story for them to use and I'm working on becoming a trainer. I believe in the power of the word. I still have bad days. I still feel worthless. I have to dig deep some days to find my worth. It's hard to let people get close and it's very difficult to have meaningful personal relationships with men. Some days I'm so angry my pictures are passed around like playing cards - on "for pay" sites It makes me soooo angry. But I can't live that way.
- Olea - Culinária Ítalo Mediterrânea.
- See, that’s what the app is perfect for.!
- Grease Stains & Love Songs?
I have to make the decision that life is worth living. I can change this by taking ownership of it and make something positive out of it for myself. It doesn't have to consume me. Slowly but surely I can make this right for me. People to this day call me a slut and bully me because of the actions that happened in middle school.
This entry includes references to self-harm. When I was in seventh grade at Mt. Abraham Union middle and high school, I decided to send a nude to a guy I really liked. I didn't think anything of it because I knew the guy since I was a baby. We were very close. Surprisingly enough, he didn't send it to his friends or to anyone.
The Adventures Of Sara
He also never said a word about to it anyone. What started the whole slut shaming and bullying towards me was my best friend who I grew up with. I told her because after I sent it I regretted it and didn't know what to do. Instead of keeping it to herself, she told my mom. Who told her friends and such. By the next day, people were calling me a slut and more. It got to the point where I would slice my wrists, my thighs, and more.
I just wanted to die. I went from being a straight A student to never wanting to go to school. In 8th grade, I eventually moved to South Royalton, Vermont. Even though I moved, I kept in touch with friends down in Bristol, Vermont and such. I went back down to go to some friend's house. While there, I was getting dressed and she took a picture of my breasts. I never looked back or went back unless it was to see family. Since I reported it, I have realized that I will never give anyone the power to hurt me that way ever again.
This entry includes reference to rape. I was 14, dating this 17 year old, and we were hanging at my house for April vacation back in We had never sex before but we had done other stuff and he had a background of being forceful with me, and I just didn't expect anything bad to happen to ME. I went to take a shower and I was so vulnerable and I went a year thinking that it was all my fault because I was not wearing anything and I wasn't tough enough to fight him off.
He raped me and we never talked about it to this day. I have had a criminal case pending on him but nothing has happened and we have gotten no further in 5 months. This entry includes references to sexual assault. I would like to share my story of sexual abuse from my father, my 4th grade teacher, and other men!
What I am most passionate about is finding my voice. The journey it took to get here and now wanting to help others. I was sexually molested by my father from infancy to 12 years of age. The most traumatic time was being groomed and abused by my 4th grade teacher at the same time my dad was molesting me. The shame started when my body started to change and develop.
How confused I was not knowing what was happening as men would whistle and make comments to me about my body. SO confused and I had nowhere to turn or anyone to talk to. It makes sense now that I didn't. After years of counseling, medications to stabilize me, and estrangement from my family of origin I began to find my voice.
I began to see why I was silenced and had no idea why these strange feelings were happening to me at such a young age and how much I blocked out. What I did do at an early age was numb with alcohol and I would feel a rush getting attention from men and yet feeling very unattractive. I feel I am one of the lucky ones. I did get herpes from an older gentleman when I was in my 20's, and I also had an affair on my husband early on in my marriage.
I needed to feel and express myself and yet didn't know why. It has been one hell of a long road back to me. I love the 54 year old woman I am today and stand proud in my journey and all the work I have done. But I am saddened by the shame and the confusion sexual abuse and assault brings. I am sick that survivors speak out to their abusers and more times than not you are not heard or the abuser denies it. This shame comes at a great cost. My family aunts, uncles, siblings, parents, cousins have chosen to deny that my dad and mom would ever do such a thing.
The grief of losing my family has been the most difficult thing I have ever endured. I stand proud today in my marriage, knowing who I am, full of confidence, wisdom and strength. Thank you for this incredible project and documentary. The rumors began that I was the professor's little slut and that I slept with him to get good grades. No one would believe that he drugged and raped me. This entry includes a description of rape. Well I never thought I would be sharing this with anyone, but I feel like it's finally time. So it was my freshman year of college and I was so excited to be away from home and on my own.
Everything was great for the first few months and I even made a lot of new friends. However it wasn't meant to be. I am a Political Science major and my government professor was younger, maybe in his early thirties, and he was super nice to all of his students. Well sometimes I would come in and go over notes after class and we became closer.
After going to him privately for maybe three weeks, the first incident occurred. He was standing next to me and I was leaning over his desk reading a few sections of notes when he rubbed his hand against my upper thigh. I didn't react much because I was deep in thought, so he proceeded to grab my butt. When he did that I kinda jumped and he just had a smirk on his face before telling me all my notes were good and dismissing me.
After that I felt uncomfortable but not too worried. If only I knew what was going to happen next. Maybe two weeks later he sent me an email and wanted me to come to his personal office to go over an assignment I had turned in. I arrived at 6pm like he had asked me to and took a seat across from him. We talked for awhile before he got up and offered me a drink.
I was thirsty so I said sure. Not even 10 minutes after drinking the water did I begin to feel tired and weak. Then he made his move. He came up behind me and grabbed my chest and began to kiss my neck. I tried to push him off but couldn't. Next thing I remember he was pulling off my panties and bending me over his desk. Then he raped me. I woke up half naked the next morning outside his office. I tried to hurry back to my dorm but enough people saw me. The rumors and lies became too much, so I transferred schools.
Life is better now and I'm a junior in college. I am having a great time, but will never be able to forget what happened to me freshman year. The first time I was assaulted, I was eleven. With my friend's family, waiting to pick her up from a trip. We stayed the night at their friend's house. The dad and his friend watched me and the two younger girls get ready for bed.
Asked me to take off my top and talked about my breast development and body. That night, we three girls were in bed together and the friend came in and molested me with his hands and fingers. It hurt and I was terrified. Pretended to be asleep, told myself he was like a doctor, pinched my bed mate as hard as I could to try and wake her. After he told me that if I told anyone he would kill my parents. In the morning when I left, he was sleeping in a sleeping bag on the living room floor and gave me a significant mean stare.
I did not tell. I sometimes think I know who he is. I do not. That he now lives in my hometown. I want to ask his wife if they used to live by the playground in Vale. I am triggered by seeing the person I suspect. If I knew for sure I do not know exactly what I would do. My youngest daughter is eleven. I don't really have any hopes for this submission, just that I can get something off my chest that is hounding me night and day. I was at camp when I was I had been to the camp twice before and was looking forward to a few weeks away from home. There was a boy there that didn't quite fit in.
On the first day he approached me and asked if I would go out with him. I said no, and assumed that that was that. The next day he came back again with a drawing of me, a pornographic drawing. I was alarmed, and turned to my friend for help. I was told that he had a mental disability that prevented him from understanding others' feelings and wishes, so I let him off the hook temporarily. Soon he started following me around, yelling to me about my beauty even when I asked him to stop.
Two weeks in, my best friend there left, and I was alone. I told the counsellors there that I was not comfortable being around him, and they shared my concerns. He had brought a knife with him, and on the first night threatened possibly jokingly to kill himself and others. He creeped on other younger girls, and bullied the few out LGBT kids. One day he cornered me and jumped on me. He managed to hold me down and take my running shorts off before I kicked him hard enough to wind him. He grabbed a sharp stick and tried to stab me with it, so I took a large rock and smashed it against his head. I tried to kill him.
He ran away. I tried to tell someone, anyone, but I didn't have the vocabulary or knowledge to describe the attack or its motives. After that day, my panic attacks I had been having as a result of fear of him got worse. I couldn't breathe or speak, so I spent a lot of time lying face down on the nurse's cot. I was so afraid that he would try again, and that he would succeed. The worst part is that I don't know if I can blame him. He clearly did not understand my fervent 'NO' to mean get off. But I sure as hell do not blame myself.
I've only told two people, any more and I remember too much. I've always prided myself in being a strong independent woman, so I can't talk or think about my assault. After I left I spent a few months completely blocking it out, then in school a completely male class except for me brought everything back up. Once again I heard justification for rape, assault, humiliation; all said while I was in the room with no other women to help me.
I'm trying to forget it again, but it's difficult. I don't even know if I can call myself a victim if I fought him off. So the assault kept on. This entry includes references to sexual assault and self-harm. When I was younger I was sexually assaulted by my older brother.
I told my grandmother she is who I was living with at the time but she didn't believe me. She called me a liar. I am 14 now it's been 8 years and I am bullied at school and constantly called a slut, whore, and etc. I suffer from self-harm and low self-esteem. Praying for one day it will all be better. I have measured my self worth in what boys say about me for as long as I can remember. I normally do whatever they want so I can feel good about myself, feel as though boys like me, or as though I am beautiful.
Boys think I am easy. They call me a slut and screenshot my pictures.
The UnSlut Project Shared Stories
I can't stop though, I am stuck in this spot where I feel ugly and unwanted if I don't have a boy asking for me. I am considered a slut and I feel as though if I already have that reputation, so why change. I am sad and I feel unworthy of love. All I want is for someone to talk to me not because of my body or because I am "easy. Whether you end up reading this or not, I hope deep down you are aware of what you did to me, not in order to guilt you, but to educate you.
I was 18 years old when I was raped. This was also the time I lost my virginity. The reason I am writing this today is because it has been now over a year since this has happened to me and my rapist is still not aware, and I am still struggling. There are very select few people in my life who know about this and there are repercussions to me writing this today. People can chose whether or not to believe me. That is their prerogative. But rape is not something to joke about. I would never wish what happened to me upon anyone.
It is not a call for attention, what I went through is not a lie. To diminish a rape victim's experience is to perpetuate rape culture. It is to invalidate one of the hardest things a person can go through. It took me over a year to accept what happened to me and be vocal about it. Doing this has not been easy, and I am fucking scared.
But I feel on many levels that it is essential for other rape survivors in my social circle, my mental health and growth as a woman. After a year of battling both depression and a severe anxiety disorder stemming from this incident, I believe it is time my rapist is called out. Speaking now directly to my rapist: You took advantage of a barely legal, intoxicated young girl.
You dragged me to your apartment knowing full well I had not been with many boys before. You asked me if I wanted to have sex with you. When we got to your apartment, you started undressing me. You thrust yourself into me and after my constant cries of pain and asking you to stop, you did not. I, on multiple occasions, begged you to stop. When someone says no, no means fucking no. What could I do? I wanted so badly to run away. But I was trapped with you inside me.
Once the act was finished and I was covered in a pool of my own blood, you looked at me in disgust and forced me to have a shower. The entire act was such a blur, and until today I have repressed it so far back in my mind. However I will never forget the pain you caused me, both physically and mentally. That will never go away. That was humiliation. I was deteriorating. Eventually I was so sick and weak that I decided to take a visit to the doctors by myself, crying the entire way there. This part no one knows, as I went by myself, in fear of telling anyone what had happened.
The twist in this, one that has guilted me for a long time is that my rapist, a week earlier, had slept with my absolute best friend in the world. It has taken me lots of time to take the blame off myself for what happened. This in itself is incredibly dangerous. It perpetuates not only rape culture but naturalizes violence and hatred towards women.
What was wrong was you raping me. What kills me is that you got away with it. You got away with raping me. Due to the emotional trauma I underwent, naturally, I began to change. I lost a lot of important people in my life to this, some people I have known since childhood. This breaks my heart because I have first hand seen and experienced the effects of rape culture. I lost multiple friends due to internalized misogyny, patriarchal conditioning, slut-shaming and a general misunderstanding of what I was going through both mentally and emotionally.
I lost all these people in my life because I was a slut, because I was raped. I lost all confidence in myself, I was broken… I do agree, during this time I was not the best version of myself. I was hateful. I was mean. I was hurting. It is just sad for me to see that someone can be dealing with such an emotionally complex situation and put out so much emotional labour only for it to be misunderstood because of the stigma attached to rape and my fear of speaking up.
I felt alone. I was alone. This rape led me to my demise - beginning in the summer of graduating high school and leading into my first year of university. I turned to drugs, alcohol and partying. Looking back, I now realize that this event, along with the various other toxic relationships with men I have engaged in after you, triggered my anxiety disorder, an eating disorder and severe depression, which I continue to fight every day.
But every day I grow stronger, and vocalizing my experience will continue this growth for me. And I will be okay. You have no idea of the trauma and pain you have inflicted on me since, both personally and in my day to day relationships. When you raped me, you took away a part of me that I will never get back. An innocence, a happiness, a love for myself that will never return. Unfortunately for me, you work in one of my favourite areas in Toronto - at a tattoo shop where every time I find myself near, I have to run in fear of seeing you and almost every time I pass by, I have a panic attack.
This is just one of the effects you continue to have on my life, despite only interacting with you this one night. You have controlled every element of my life since then. You had so much power over me.
But I will not allow this to go on anymore. I hope in sharing my experience I can somewhat contribute to breaking down this violent sex culture we are so deeply ingrained in. I hope that in me sharing my experience I allow fellow rape survivors to come forward with their stories in order to create a safer space for these types of discussions. The stigma and guilt that rape victims feel must end.
Tied Up Stories post
In allowing for a safe space to have this kind of discourse and to vocalize similar experiences we can set up the proper resources and support groups. My rape does not define me. My rapist holds no power over me. I felt compelled to write this after being severely let down by the sexual assault policy at my university.
There is such a stigma surrounding rape and unfortunately most of the time we blame ourselves for what has happened. What has happened is not your fault, it does not define you. In sharing our experiences we can help break down the stigma and bring an end to the perpetuation of rape culture and violence. I am not the opinion others have of me. Yes, I have failures, but I am not a failure. There is truly no end to where slut shaming occurs or by whom. Surprisingly I was slut shamed by my mother and stepfather. I have been slut shamed by my father since I was a kid simply from wearing a skirt that was to my knees or a simple summer dress.
Having this opinion seared into my brain had taught me to fear anything sexual. But as I entered highschool I had realized that his opinion did not define me. I made up my opinions on the matter. My senior year I lost my virginity to who someone at the time I was very much in love with, and to this day I do not regret it.
My mother until I had come from college the next year still believed I was a virgin. I had not told her in fear of being slapped or insulted like I was when I came home with a hickey that very same year. The manner in which she found out is through a family. He had asked me about my life in college and asked me if I was a virgin, seeing as to there is no shame in not being one I answered truthfully. He asked me the usual questions when, to who, so I answered them, thinking he was mature enough to keep this to himself.
I wasn't worried of him telling anyone. Yet to my surprise days later my mother pulls me aside to confront me. He had told my aunt who called to tell my mother. My aunt made it seem as if I was some cheap whore. My mother proceeded to call me a whore, an embarrassment, with words implicating I was a failure and a shame on my family. In order to make me suffer further she wanted to tell my grandmother who saw me to be perfect, who was visiting.
Struggling with depression this truly drove me to the edge and I contemplated attempting suicide. I was nearly about to when a realization came to me. That I am not the opinion others have of me. Deep down I was not ashamed of my choices, but rather I felt the shame my family was projecting on me. So I decided to take a stand, rather let this beat me down I would use it to strengthen my views on the world. That a woman should not be shamed nor ashamed of her sexuality. Anderson examined Sara.
She ran her hand up her leg, over her stomach and between her breasts until she reached her collar. She was careful not to touch Sara's pussy, but instead ran her finger tantalizingly close causing Sara to shiver. Sara arched her back in an effort to make contact with the teasing finger. Sara just groaned in frustration. Anderson then said, "From now on, you will call me Mistress A. Sara just nodded. As she attached the blindfold, Mistress A explained, "The loss of one sense will heighten your other senses. I also want you to keep guessing about what will happen next. Now lay back, put your hands above your head, grab your wrists and hold your arms there as if they were bound.
Now spread your legs as wide as you can and keep them there. You have pleased me. Mistress A continued to slowly to slowly rub Sara's clit while continuing to probe Sara's pussy with her middle finger. Sara: "Yes Mistress Anderson. I wanted to cum very badly. I even made love to my husband, but I didn't cum. It was very difficult, but I thought of you and was able to hold back. Mistress Anderson smiles again. Her seduction of Sara was going well and easier than she expected. Mistress Anderson: "You have done well so far my pet.
You will be rewarded today. As you asked before, I did bring a friend with me to help with your training. You do not need to worry about her identity. She is a close friend and will know you intimately before we are finished. You are to serve her as you would serve me. Sara hears movement in the room. She wants to rip the blindfold from her face and find out who else is in the room, but she resisted the temptation.
She also wanted to lower her hands to her pussy and get herself off. Sara knew better, however. She has pleased her new mistress so far and did not want to risk angering her. Mistress Anderson: "Sara, I want you to do something for me. Your scent tells me how aroused you are right now. The wetness in your pussy confirms that I could make you cum any time I choose. But there are a few things you need to do for me first.
Nod your head if you understand. Mistress Anderson: "Very good. I see we understand ourselves. Our first task is for you to admit you are my slave and will do whatever I say. From now on, your body belongs to me to use as I please. I will not interfere with your family life and your husband does not need to know what a slut you really are. Think carefully before answering. You will not refuse any request I make and will need to ask permission to cum.
In return you will experience pleasure beyond your wildest expectations. While making these statements, Mistress Anderson has been increasing the pressure on Sara's clit. Unknown to Sara, the mystery woman has setup a video camera looking down the length of the bed. She has a perfect view of Sara holding her arms above her head and spreading her legs. Lost in sensory overload, Sara's moaning fills the air as she nears her orgasm.
Before that can happen, however, Mistress Anderson suddenly removes her hand and spanks Sara squarely on her sopping pussy. Sara recoils in pain, but does not otherwise move. Mistress Anderson: "I asked you a question my dear. You obviously were not paying attention. I was prepared to give you the orgasm you so obviously need if you had given the right answer. Now I think we need additional education. Mistress Anderson: "You still have not answered my question. You have not earned your orgasm. You will receive a second chance, but you need to do a few things for us first.
Sara was scared at the thought of that last statement, but she was too turned on to care. Once again Sara heard movement in the room. She felt a soft leather cuff being attached to her right wrist. She then felt her arm drawn further up and heard the scraping of a chain along the spindles of her headboard. Her other arm was then grabbed, by the mystery person Sara imagines and it pulled tight and attached inside the second cuff. The mystery person then slowly runs her hand down Sara's outstretched arm, her cheek, shoulder and finally comes to rest on her covered breast.
Mistress Anderson: "My friend likes what she sees, slave. You will like her. She can be a bit demanding at times, but she is fair and loves to make women cum. Suddenly the hand on her breast squeezed hard. Sara arched her back to meet the new sensation. The hand quickly left her breast. Sara wished they had taken off her wedding dress before attaching her arms to the headboard. She loved having her breasts fondled. Sara's actions demonstrated her need and her tormenters clearly understood what they were doing to the young wife.
The hand continued its slow advance down Sara's body. As the hand neared her pussy, Sara knew subconsciously she would not be allowed her orgasm yet. But that did not stop her from trying. Sara began to hump her hips in an effort to make stronger contact with the hand. Of course this was expected and the hand simply moved away. Mistress Anderson: "That is correct. But apparently you have not learned your lesson yet. Shut your legs and roll onto your side. I'll be right back. Sara didn't have long to wonder where Mistress Anderson went. Before she had even left the room, a stinging hand found its mark on Sara's right butt cheek.
Sara screamed at the sudden pain. A few seconds later, another spank was administered. This was a new sensation for Sara. She had not been spanked since she was a young child. This was different. Although she knew she was being punished, Sara also knew this was sexual. Until yesterday, she had been a loyal wife having never considered cheating on her husband.
Now she was cuffed to her matrimonial bed, wearing her wedding dress, being spanked by someone she can't see and doesn't know. After about 10 spanks, the pain began to turn to a heat spreading throughout Sara's body. She realized she was starting to enjoy this treatment. She didn't have time to ponder why she was getting further turned on because Mistress Anderson was reentering the room. The mystery hand now switched to rubbing Sara's sore bottom. The overheated wife began to coo and rolled back onto her back and spread her legs.
She wanted the hand in her pussy and felt her tormenters would be unable to resist. But Mistress A had seen this behavior many times before. In fact most of her seductions went the same way. As soon as Sara rolled over, her clit felt the ice cube. The howls of pain were echoed off the wall. Mistress Anderson: "When will you learn my little slut? You could have cum two or three times already if you can just been nice to us. Sara was broken and wanted to pledge her devotion to her mistress. She knew this was what her mistress wanted to here, but could only manage a stuttering "please With that, a second ice cube was inserted inside Sara's pussy and another howl of pain filled the room.
Mistress Anderson: "The pain will pass quickly, but your need to cum will not. You will soon be hotter than you ever have been in your life. The ice cubes were removed, but Sara's pussy still felt numb. She then felt a hand on each foot as her legs were drawn apart.
Sara assumed her legs would be tied to the bed, but instead another leather cuff was attached to each ankle. Sara later learned that the reason she could not move her legs together was because a spreader bar was placed between the cuffs. Mistress Anderson: "Ok Sara, time for you to do something for us.
My friend has quite enjoyed the show you have put on so far today. I can tell you turned her on. Sara now felt the mystery woman climb onto the bed. It didn't take Sara long to realize exactly what was happening. The mystery woman swung her leg over Sara head and rubbed her pussy lips on Sara's nose. The smell was intoxicating.
Sara extended her tongue and the mystery woman obliged by sliding back so Sara's mouth was squarely in position to satisfy her. Mistress Anderson: "See you are a natural slut. You will service my friend until she is satisfied and then maybe, just maybe, I will give you your orgasm. In her mind, Sara groaned in frustration, but her body reacted exactly as Mistress Anderson knew it would.
Sara began rocking her hips to the rhythm of the mystery woman rocking on her face. Mistress A gave Sara's pussy and clit a quick rub and not surprisingly, the coldness of the ice had been replaced with heat and wetness. Mistress Anderson moved in for the kill. She took a small vibrator, maybe 4 inches long and set it to its lowest setting. It was lightly buzzing, but certainly not strong enough to bring Sara over the edge.
Mistress Anderson prepared to insert the vibrator as her friend reached her climax and liberally coated Sara's face with her juices. Before dismounting, the woman once again rubbed her pussy on Sara's nose. Mistress Anderson: "That was very good. We only have a few minutes left. Your kids will be home from school soon and you need to get cleaned up. Here is your reward. With that, Mistress A inserted the small vibrator into Sara. Sara flinched at the intrusion but quickly began rolling her hips in appreciation. She could feel her orgasm start to build and knew the two other women in the room could also sense her desire.
Mistress Anderson: "I know. Do you remember what I said you needed to say before that will happen? Mistress Anderson: "I don't like to repeat myself. You will be punished again later for not listening. What I said was you need to admit you are our slave and will do whatever we say. From now on, your body belongs to us to use as we please. You will not refuse any request we make and will need to ask permission to cum. In return you will experience joy beyond your wildest expectations. But Sara didn't need to think anymore.
Mistress Anderson knew the answer before she asked the question. Sara: "Mistress, I am a slut and your slave. I will do whatever you tell me and will not refuse anything. Please let me cum. Mistress Anderson: "That sounded very sincere. However, I have not cum yet, myself, and that has to change before you can cum.
Sara felt her mistress straddle her head and she knew what was expected. As she began eating her mistress, the vibrator was slowly pulled from her pussy. She then heard the speed increased and then the sound was muffled. Almost immediately two sets of moans filled the room. One from Mistress Anderson on Sara's face and one from the mystery woman using the vibrator on herself. Both women orgasmed in just a couple of minutes. Mistress Anderson dismounted and teased Sara's wet pussy lips.
Mistress Anderson began quickly rubbing Sara's clit while the mystery woman jammed the vibrator back into Sara's pussy. This time, however, the vibrator was at full speed and Sara began coming within seconds. Her hips were lifting off the bed as she tried to hump her mistress' hand and force the vibrator deeper into her pussy. Sara screamed in pleasure and rolled her head back and forth. Mistress Anderson kept up her ministrations for about a minute as Sara road out her climax. The mystery woman quietly took her clothes and the video camera and went downstairs to dress.
Sara was breathing heavily. Never before had she climaxed like the one she just experienced. Her wedding dress was soaking in sweat and her face was coated with the juice of two women. Mistress Anderson: "As you can feel slut, you were born to serve me. In fact, I am having a little gathering at my house next Saturday night. The ladies in my subdivision get together for Bunko once a month. I am in need of a serving wench and you will do nicely. You will be needed from about 6pm to midnight. Mistress Anderson removed the blindfold and cuffs. Sara starts rubbing her sore limbs. She wants to rub her pussy.
She knows she could cum again with almost no effort. Mistress Anderson: "Play with your clit for me. Tease yourself. Don't cum or we are finished. Mistress Anderson: "You have been a good girl today Sara. Here are the rules you need to follow this week. First, after I leave, no masturbation. Failure to obey will be met with strict punishment.
I will know if you get off. I can always tell. Second, I don't want your hubby feeling lonely. He can fuck you, but you are not to cum. By Wednesday you should be good and horny. I want you to give him a blow job and let him cum on your face. Pretend you are a porn star. Beg him to give you a facial. We will talk on Friday and I will give you more instructions.
Mistress A: "Soon my pet. First I want you to turn over onto your hands and knees. Now pull up your dress so I can see your ass. Mistress Anderson: "Ok slave. Show me what a slut you are. Rub your clit as fast as you can and slowly start counting down slowly from 20 and say thank you Mistress Anderson for letting me cum each time. You may cum when you reach zero. Sara began rubbing her clit like a mad woman and began her countdown. By the time she was down to 10, her breathing was labored and she was slurring her words. Mistress A gave her a hard spank.
Sara continued counting while her Mistress continued her spanking. At number 5 Mistress Anderson began fucking Sara with the vibrator. At 1 Mistress A grabbed Sara's hair and forcibly pulled her head back. Upon hearing those words, Sara exploded quaking for a full two minutes. She remained face down on the bed with her ass in the air not wanting to move while her Mistress got dressed and packed up her toys. Before leaving, Mistress Anderson had Sara lick her cum from the vibrator. It was the first time Sara had tasted her own juices. It would not be the last.
Mistress Anderson gave Sara's ass one last slap and said "Remember what we talked about. No masturbation and I'll see you Saturday night. Sara just smiled. She looked at the clock. It was 2pm. She had to shower before the kids came home and put her dress away. She also had to figure out an excuse for being gone Saturday night. Sara spent the rest of the afternoon in a fog. She quickly showered, but her thoughts we on the events of earlier in the day. She managed to get dressed, change the bedding, put away her dress and look like nothing happened by the time the kids got back from school.
After saying hello, the kids went there separate ways and Sara was again alone with her thoughts. She didn't quite understand why she was so turned on by Mrs. Anderson, but she understood that she would do anything the older woman told her. Sara's husband Frank got home from work late, explaining that Mr. Anderson had given him a special project to do. He was assigned to work with a new out of state client who was having trouble with the products the company was providing for them. While not quite a promotion, Frank felt it was a good thing that Mr.
Anderson had entrusted such a valuable account to him. That night, Sara went to bed early. She wanted to be asleep before Frank came up in case he wanted to have sex. Her body was ready, but her mind was not. She certainly wanted to jump on him and fuck his brains out, but she knew she would not be able to hold back her orgasm. All night, visions of Mistress A filled her head. Who was the mystery woman? Did she know her? Would she see her again? Would Mr. Anderson or would it be Master Anderson be joining them? What was going to happen on Saturday? Sara tossed and turned all night and woke up horny.
This was going to be a tough day. Sara was determined to stop thinking about Mistress A. There was no way she would make it to the weekend without orgasming if she could not control her thoughts. She went running, did the family errands and finally had the oil changed in the car. She was doing fine until she checked her email. There was a short message from Mistress A with a video clip attached. Sara knew what was on the clip even before she opened it. Although just a minute long, it clearly showed Sara in her wedding dress cumming like crazy while a mystery hand controlled a vibrator.
Unfortunately any hope of determining who the mystery woman is was dashed by way the video was cropped. Memories of the day before flooded Sara's mind as the scent of her arousal flooded her nostrils. At the bottom of the email was a message to email Mistress A after watching the video and then to reply with how she felt.
Sara told Mistress A she was upset that she had been videotaped, but also admitted she was turned on. The email exchange continued with Mistress Anderson probing ever deeper into Sara's psyche. Finally Mistress Anderson told Sara she had been a good girl for following her instructions. Mistress Anderson was altering her orders. Sara would be reward with an orgasm today, but only with Frank.
Until his return, she was to masturbate until she felt she was about to climax. She was then to stop, wait 20 minutes and start over. Between sessions, Sara was to rewatch the video of her orgasm. She was also directed to a bondage website where should could do some research. Thankful for being allowed to orgasm, even if she had to wait several hours, Sara set off on her new tasks. She did not have a vibrator so she simply used her fingers.
It did not take long for her to reach her level of no return. Just before crossing over, Sara stopped, took several deep breaths and walked around the house. She then remembered Mistress A's order to rewatch the video. As she watched, all she could think about was how much she wanted to cum like she had yesterday. Going to the bondage website was scary to Sara. Not that she was afraid of the content, but she was afraid of the electronic paper trail it would create. But, she followed Mistress Anderson's command and began her "research.
There were different methods of restraint, punishment, submission and more fetishes than she could count. Soon her 20 minutes was up and she repeated the process. About an hour later, an instant message from Mistress Anderson popped up. She asked how Sara was doing and Sara replied truthfully that she was ready to fuck a doorknob she was so horny.
Mistress Anderson replied that is how she likes her slaves. They are much easier to control. Sara wanted to tell Mistress Anderson that her attitude was terrible and she shouldn't treat other people that way. But she didn't. The wetness in her pussy wouldn't allow it. Mistress Anderson told Sara she knew the kids would be home soon, so she could stop surfing the net and watching the video. However, she still wanted Sara to continue masturbating.
If she was going to give Sara the gift of an orgasm, she wanted to be sure Sara came well. Mistress Anderson also told Sara that Mr. Anderson would be sending Frank home a little early tonight so she should be ready with dinner. Sara did as she was instructed. Frank was very happy with the simple home-cooked meal. In only his second day managing the problem account, he already was becoming more stressed. Sara offered to give him a backrub while the kids watched TV. By the time the kids went to sleep, Frank was relaxed and falling asleep in his recliner.
Obviously this would not do. Sara had been given permission to orgasm today. She didn't know if that would extend to tomorrow if Frank could not perform. She didn't want to find out. As Sara and Frank moved up the stairs to the bedroom, Sara went first making sure to put a little extra wiggle in her walk, but Frank seemed disinterested. Sara put on a lace teddy in an effort to entice him, but it was to know avail. Sara gave Frank a little pout and said "Don't you think I am sexy? Sara asked, "What if you just lay back and I'll do all the work?
Frank just chucked but Sara was not going to take no for an answer. She pushed Frank back onto the bed and quickly pulled down his pajama bottoms. His cock was showing signs of life so Sara quickly took him in her mouth. She did not frequently perform oral sex on Frank because she thought it was nasty. Of course before two days ago, she also thought two women having sex was nasty. He was hard in short order and Sara, not wanting to risk him losing interest quickly jump on top and impaled herself on his dick.
Sara was riding Frank like a woman possessed. Frank took notice because Sara had always been fairly passive during their lovemaking. This was not the same woman. The old Sara had always been slow to boil and required a lot of foreplay. This Sara seemed ready to orgasm after just a couple of minutes. Frank thought this was a good thing since he doubted he could last more than a couple more minutes given the pace she had set.
Frank was right and Sara was soon climaxing like he had never seen her before.
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He could tell she wanted to scream out, but didn't want to wake the kids. Frank, usually a gentleman in bed, was inspired to flip his wife over onto her hands and knees so her face was in a pillow. He then grabbed her ass and stuck his cock back in her pussy. He knew he would not last long and wanted to get the most pleasure he could. Frank knew Sara liked the feeling of sex doggie-style, even though she felt it was a demeaning position and would not do it often.
As soon as he reentered his still spasming wife, she moaned and began rocking her hips back into him. Frank wondered where this was coming from, as she had never done that before, but his primal needs took over and he began matching her movements with his thrusts. The sounds of skin hitting skin filled the room even as Sara's moans we muffled by the pillows.
If the kids we not up before, they were definitely up now. Frank could not keep this pace up long and felt his jiz rising from his balls. He knew he would shoot soon. With a final thrust, Frank grabbed Sara by the hips and held her tight. His cock was buried as deep as it would go in Sara. With a profound grunt, he let loose a torrent of cum into Sara's pussy. This triggered another orgasm in Sara that ripped right through her.
Frank held her tight as he squired volley after volley into Sara's pussy. Sara just shook. If Frank has thought her last climax was strong, this one was much more forceful. As Frank's cock deflated, he let go of her hips and she slumped into the bed with a very happy and contented smile. The next day Frank was up and out to work early. Sara got the kids ready for school. Everything seemed normal, except Sara could not stop smiling. After the kids left, she composed a long email to Mistress Anderson telling her about what happened.
She then went for her run.