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Message-ID: <37780asstr$1028869803@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Laura Davis" <ldavis4@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} A Slave's Story by Laura Lynn Davis, M/F, F/F
Date: Fri,  9 Aug 2002 01:10:03 -0400
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A Slave's Story by Laura Lynn Davis, M/F, F/F

ldavis4@hotmail.com


	For as long as I can remember I've wanted to be a slave, to have someone 
else control me and use me as they wish.  I don't know why because I wasn't 
abused as a child, not sexually, physically, or mentally.  In fact, I was an 
over achiever.  My parents encouraged me as much as they encouraged my 
brothers.  I was the youngest of three children and the only girl.  We were 
always told we could be anything, do anything, and all it took was an 
education and commitment.

	At seventeen I was tall, athletic, blonde, and beautiful.  I ranked in the 
top ten in my class, was the female athlete of the year, and was dating a 
guy I'd known since kindergarten.  Everyone said we were the ideal couple 
and assumed we'd get married after college.  They also assumed that we were 
sleeping together but they were wrong.  Cullen was gay, something I'd known 
since sixth grade.  But we had fun on our dates and I didn't have to worry 
about being pressured for sex.

	I was sixteen when I told Cullen about my desire to be a slave.  We talked 
about it a lot, analyzing it, trying to find a reason.  But we didn't.  I'd 
read some historical novels, bodice rippers where the heroine it captured by 
pirates, sold into slavery, and abused before being rescued by a handsome 
man who whisked her off to a life of leisure and unimaginable ecstasy.  It 
all sounded good to me.  At least up until the part where she's rescued.  I 
didn't want to be rescued.  I wanted to spend my life as a slave.

	Once in a while I'd give Cullen a blowjob and once in a while he'd 
masturbate me or go down on me.  It was fun and it relieved the tension but 
it wasn't the real thing for either of us.  Once, shortly after my 
seventeenth birthday I talked Cullen into spanking me with his belt.  We 
were hiking in the woods up past the reservoir.  I was wearing shorts, a 
tank top, and hiking boots.

	I asked him to spank me and he refused.  I wheedled and whined and he 
finally agreed.  I stood under a convenient tree limb and he used my belt to 
secure my wrists to the limb.  Then he eased my shorts and panties down.  I 
wanted twenty-five hard strokes.  "Or until I'm crying and begging you to 
stop.  Which ever comes first."

	"Ten.  And not that hard."

	"Twenty.  Very hard."  We went back and forth for a while.  I held out for 
twenty.  Finally, I said, "Do twenty as hard as you can and then you can 
fuck me in my ass."

	He cut my panties off with a knife and used them to gag me, pushing them 
into my mouth and then tying them in place with one of my bootlaces.  I 
gasped in shock when he brought the belt down across my ass.  It hurt worse 
than I'd ever imagined!  He took his time, making sure that he spread the 
strokes over my entire ass.  I was crying after four, sobbing after six, 
screaming after eight, begging him to stop.  But the gag muffled my screams 
and he paid no attention.  I took the full twenty.

	I didn't stop crying for a good twenty minutes.  By then we were almost 
back at the car.  That night he picked me up at 7:00 to go to the movies.  
But we didn't go to the movies.  His parents were away for the weekend and 
we went to his house.  I took my clothes off and stretched out on his bed, 
on my belly, and put my head on my crossed arms.

	He slipped a pillow under my hips and then he spread my buttocks with one 
hand while he lubricated my anus with Vaseline.  "Your ass is still red.  
The welts will last for days.  Better not let you mom see your butt."

	I whimpered as he eased his finger into my anus to spread the Vaseline 
around.  I glanced over my shoulder as he straddled me.  His cock was 
beautiful - a good 7" long and fairly thick.  He was circumcised and the 
head of his cock was purple, like a plum.  I moaned.  "Oh, God!  You're 
going to split me wide open!"

	He stroked my thighs.  "Reach back, Jen, and spread yourself."

	I reached back and spread my buttocks.  I whimpered as I felt the head of 
his cock pressing against my anus.  He eased himself into me slowly and 
carefully.  It felt as if I was being split in half by a big soft wedge.  I 
took a deep breath and held it until I felt his balls bounce against my 
pubes.  I closed my eyes and sighed as he began to fuck my ass with long 
smooth strokes.  His balls bounced against me each time he thrust.  After a 
moment or two I slipped one hand between my legs and began to masturbate.

	He began to thrust faster and faster and I tried to keep up.  Finally, he 
groaned and slammed into me one last time, shooting his sperm deep into my 
rectum.  I came a few moments later.  I was hot and sweaty and my ass was 
sore but I felt good.  I'd paid my debt.  After a few minutes I got up and 
went to take a shower.  I could feel his cum running down my thigh as I 
walked into the bathroom.  It made me feel incredibly sexy!

	We continued to date until graduation but he never whipped me again.  Nor 
did he ever fuck me in the ass again.  But we masturbated in front of each 
other fairly often.  He'd sit on his bed, or on the rear bumper of his 
truck, and I'd get down on my knees in front of him.  And we'd masturbate.  
When he came he'd shoot his load over my face and chest.

	After graduation he went to work on the Cape and when the summer was over 
he went to Stanford and I went to Yale.  The night before he left we went 
out to the reservoir.  I stripped and got down on my knees in front of him.  
He came first and shot his load over my face and tits.  After I came I 
glanced up at him.  "You have to piss, don't you?"

	He nodded. "Yes."

	I smiled.  "Go ahead.  Piss.  On me."

	He was reluctant but I talked him into it.  He pissed on me, on my head and 
chest and belly.  I kept my mouth closed and my eyes open.  It was 
deliciously humiliating.

	Yale was boring.  The men were too wimpy for the most part and the women 
were either too jealous or too butch.  I bought a vibrator but it was way 
too enjoyable and I threw it away after using it twice.  After that I relied 
on my fingers.

	Then, in the spring of my senior year I met a girl named Iris Wang.  She 
was delicate Chinese beauty from San Francisco.  It was lust at first sight. 
  For me, at least.  She acted very casual.  I spent every spare moment 
trying to seduce her but she acted as if she didn't notice.

	One night she came to my apartment to borrow some paper for her printer.  I 
gave her a full ream of paper and followed her back upstairs to her place.  
She filled her printer and then offered to make tea.  I accepted.  When she 
handed me a cup of tea I smiled and thanked her.  "Tell me, Iris.  What do I 
have to do to get into your pants?"

	She smiled and shrugged.  "Don't you ever give up?"

	I shook my head.  "Never.  I love you."

	She smiled again.  "What are you going to do after graduation?  What do you 
want out of life?"

	I took a deep breath.  "I want to spend my life pleasing you.  Worshipping 
you.  I want to be your slave."

	She put her cup down.  "Take your clothes off, Jen."

	I stood up and took my clothes off.  She tapped her finger on the table.  
"Get up here and stretch out.  On your back."

	I obeyed.  She spent almost an hour examing my body.  She asked a lot of 
questions and I answered truthfully, telling her about Cullen. I had to 
explain the scar on my knee (soccer injury), the scar on my shoulder (a fall 
when I was seven), and tiny scar under my chin (fight with an opposing 
player during a basketball game).

	She stroked me and fondled me and inspected every inch of my body.  She 
spread my labia and slipped three fingers into my vagina.  She spread my 
buttocks but she didn't penetrate me there.  She inspected my teeth.  She 
cupped my breasts and squeezed them gently, lifting them to judge their 
weight.

	Finally, she told me to get down and go sit on the sofa while she finished 
her paper.  I reached for my clothes but she said, "No, no clothes.  Never 
while we're alone."

	I sat down on the sofa and pulled my legs up, wrapping my arms around them, 
resting my chin on my knees.  It took her more than an hour to finish her 
paper.  When she was done she came and sat beside me.  "Tomorrow you'll move 
in here.  No sense in wasting money on two apartments."

	I pointed out that my lease had two months to run and we wouldn't save 
anything.  She stroked my thigh and said, "I'll speak to the landlord. I'm 
sure he'll listen to reason."

	That was six months ago.  Iris is in grad school now and I'm working for a 
local accounting firm.  I dress appropriately - conservative suits in gray 
or blue, with crisp tailored blouses.  I wear my skirts short because Iris 
likes to have me show off my beautiful legs.  She hates pantyhose so I wear 
thigh highs.  My underwear is plain cotton, gray or white, usually Haines.

	Most of my coworkers seem to like the way I dress.  I often wonder what 
they'd think if they could see me nude.  See my total lack of pubic hair, 
the result of months of expensive and painful electrolysis treatments.  Or 
see the rings that adorn my nipples, labia, and clitoral hood.  Delicate 
rings of 18-carat gold.  Usually the rings are all connected by delicate 
gold chains.  My clit is pierced by a stainless steel stud that keeps me 
aroused much of the time.  And I have a tattoo just above my pubes.  There 
are two lines that read 'This slave the property of Iris Wang.'

	Iris takes care of me and provides for all of my needs.  She gives me pain, 
humiliation, and mind-blowing sex in proper proportions.  She knows what I 
like, what I crave, and what I fear.  I like being displayed nude in front 
of her friends.  I crave being humiliated in front of them.  I crave sex, 
hard raw sex.  I fear knives and rubber dog whips and anything sharp.  All 
she has to do is put a single acupuncture needle out on the table and I 
start to cry and shiver and plead.

	One night we were out at a lesbian bar not far from campus.  There was a 
small stage in back and one of the leatherdykes had her girlfriend dancing 
nude on stage.  Iris told me to get up and join her.  When I hesistated she 
dropped a hatpin on the table.  I was up on stage, nude, within thirty 
seconds.  I danced with the other slave for almost an hour, until we were 
both exhausted and drenched with sweat.  When I was finally allowed to 
return to our table Iris handed me the hat pin and said, "Put it through 
your right nipple.  Now."

	I cried and pleaded but in the end I pushed the hat pin through my nipple.  
It was hard and it hurt like hell.  I sat there sobbing while Iris finished 
her drink.  Finally, she let me put my shorts and tank top back on and we 
left.  Back home, she removed the pin, treated the wound, and then held me 
while I cried myself to sleep.

	Our routine doesn't vary much from day-to-day.  I'm up by five and out of 
the house for my run by five-fifteen.  When I get home I strip, shower, and 
then prepare breakfast for Iris.  I serve her breakfast in bed and kneel 
beside the bed while she eats.  I am, of course, nude at all times when in 
the house.

	We talk about our plans for the day while Iris eats.  I always prepare 
enough for two and she feeds me scraps with her fingers.  After she's done I 
wash the dishes and then I get dressed and go to work.  Iris usually has a 
class she's taking or one's she's teaching.  I'm out of the house by 7 a.m., 
at work by 7:30.  I have thirty minute for lunch and I'm off at 4 p.m.

	I arrive home by 4:30 unless I have to stop at the supermarket.  I strip, 
attend to my chores, and then wait for Iris if she's not already home.  We 
eat in most nights and then she studies while I read or watch television.  
Many nights that's all we do before going to bed.  Some nights she fucks me 
with a strap-on.  If I've displeased her she fucks me in my ass.  If I've 
really displeased her I spend the night on my knees, with clamps on my 
nipples, labia, and the tender skin of my inner thighs.  Sometimes I'm 
blindfolded and have a penis gag in my mouth.

	On rare occasions I'm whipped with a rubber dog whip.  It's the worst pain 
you can imagine.  And no amount of begging, screaming, or pleading deters 
her.  When she uses it she whips me until I'm hoarse from screaming.

	But the worst thing she does is to allow another to use needles on me.  I'm 
never restrained.  The last time it happened I'd broken one of her favorite 
antique vases.  She brought home a cute little redhead from the club and let 
her torment me with a handful of acupuncture needles.

	I sat on a stool in the middle of the kitchen, sobbing, while the redhead 
used the needles to decorate my nipples, labia, and tongue.  I didn't dare 
move or resist because I knew the dog whip was waiting.  I threw my head 
back and moaned in agony when the redhead crouched and pushed my knees 
apart.  She stared up at me, grinning, as she pushed the last needle though 
my clit.  Then Iris made me kneel at the foot of the bed and watch while she 
and the redhead made love.

	Later, after the redhead was gone, Iris removed the needles and treated the 
wounds.  When she was done I crawled to her on my belly and licked her feet. 
  Then I apologized for breaking the vase.  I promised I'd try harder to be 
a better slave.  She took me to bed and rubbed my belly until I fell asleep.

	Iris will be done with grad school in a few months.  Then were moving to 
California, to San Francisco.  I won't work in San Francisco, I'll be a 
full-time house slave.  She's promised to find a pretty little slave to help 
me.  I can't wait.

The End



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