All Three Holes

Continued from: Objectification

A post from Sarah

When Russell returned to me I was whipped. 

I wasn't counting, but I am quite certain I received every one of the 100 lashes he indicated that I would be getting, before he left me to anticipate. He must have been using a less severe, more delicate flogger, as it felt like I was being whipped hard, with force, but there was no searing sting or incredible pain. 

My bare bum took the majority of the lashes, with some attention paid to my upper back and my thighs, above my knees. The sensation was incredible, my skin was electric and felt like a really good sun burn. I was so fuckin' horny for him, to be used by him for his pleasure. Most of his cum had since dried onto my face and wetness was glistening down my stomach from the drool escaping the base of the ball gag. 

When my bondage was finally released and whipping had concluded, I collapsed down onto my hands and knees, disgracefully cowering on the floor, begging Master for mercy. I offered up my holes, all three of my slutty fuck-holes, as an alternative to being beaten any further. 

Sure, I was acting a little bit, playing into my own fantasy of having my will broken, enough to submit to dirty, degrading and forceful sex. 

My ponytail was used as a leash, to guide and drag me over to the coffee table. He kept a firm grip on it throughout, as Master plunged his raging cock into my pussy. 

It was such an amazing fucking! It's making my toes curl even now, as I sit here in my vanilla, WFH office and write about this. 

We seemed to be very in-sync with each other, feeding off each other, in how this was all developing. While he was fucking me from behind he slipped a thumb into my asshole. Of course my naughty little pucker involuntarily gripped his thumb, which was horribly humiliating. I could feel my own asshole squeezing him, like I had no control over it. 

I cried out, "no Sir! Please no! Not my bum!!" I wailed loud enough that if Mistress Andrea was downstairs, she would have definitely heard me. 

I wanted nothing more that to be fucked in the ass by him, but I continued my ruse of non-consent. I'm a huge anal slut and wanted to cum while his dick was in my third and final hole. I just wanted Master to take, not ask. 

And take he did!

Master "forced" me to ride him reverse cowgirl, and do all the work. He just laid there motionless, as I was forced to bounce, with my tits shamefully flopping, and fuck my own asshole. It was so dirty and degrading I orgasmed instantly, with a little flicker of my clit. I kept on destroying my ass with his cock, then came again. 

My legs where shaking so badly I couldn't maintain the crouched position anymore. I sat right down on Master so the full length of his dick was deep inside, as he shot hot semen into my bowels. 

I'm sure I'm leaving out some other details of our time together, in the Parlour space. Times I was smacked and called names. Tormented about having dried cum on my face or a fresh, squishy load in my rectum. All of it added to the overall experience. I loved every fuckin' second of being flogged, broken and man-handled the way I was. 

I enjoyed that Russ didn't start the scene with a bunch of rules and protocols, or feel the need to go-over safewording. All of these things were assumed, before we ever began. The only thing he felt he needed to say, was that line from my last post: 

"This is what you want?"

Fuck YES it was! 

I was provided a robe. I guess to regain or protect what dignity I had left, after all three of my fuck-holes were just destroyed. Master wanted me in the heels I arrived in also, cute look I suppose. 

We retired to the kitchen and very sweetly, like I was the victim of a housefire or something, wrapped in one of those grey, humanitarian blankets, he asked me if I wanted a tea. Melted my heart a little, not gonna lie. 

I had not received a tour of this whole facility yet, I don't think anything would have surprised me though, based on the images I've seen on the client website. Over my right shoulder I noticed a large window covered with a thin veil of sheer, opening into what appeared to be a locker-room. My eyes caught movement and it appeared to be a middle-aged man, changing into an outfit like a little girl would wear. 

Russ went in for a closer look as Mistress elegantly clicked into the kitchen in a pin-up styled dress. 

"Did you two kids have a good time?" She cheerful asked out loud, like Russ and I were two teenagers returning from the movies. 

I blushed and lowered my eyes, squeaking out a little, "yes Ma'am, thank you Ma'am."

Russell just head-motioned to the window, looking at Mistress with a WTF face. 

"Oh that. I have an appointment in ten minutes. He wants to be taken over "Mommy's" knee and spanked until he's crying like a little girl. I figured I'd make him dress like one too," Mistress declared to both of us as she shrugged her arms and giggled. 

What a wild, magical place this was. I never wanted to leave!

slave sarah 

xoxo

Continued in: A quiet night in

  

 

Objectification

Continued from: Sarah's First Post

A post from Sarah

Almost 24-hours had passed, since I found myself bare naked in the palour of Mistress Andrea's Facility. I was being told to kneel, being told to keep my eyes down and how to position my arms. 

These were not requests, these were orders. I absolutely loved the simplicity of being told what to do. To not think, just obey.  

My clit jumped with each click of her high heels off the hardwood. Like a metronome of steady and commanding footsteps, when she approached and left me.

Since the first time I met her and she conducted her little "experiment", I cannot deny the fact that she tore a hole in the fabric of my identity. Despite her sexuality and her obvious gorgeousness, I'm just not attracted to women in that way. That is, until she started ordering me around, humiliating and degrading me...threatening to punish me. It has awoken something inside of me that I didn't know existed. 

My throbbing cunt is betraying me even now, as I sit here to type on Mistress' blog.

Carved from a corner of my bedroom, is my little WFH office. Between zoom calls, I've been trying to recount the events of yesterday afternoon, the first moment I had the privilege of calling Russell, 'Sir'.

It began with a different set of footsteps behind me. I knew it wasn't Mistress in her heels. I could also hear the distinct jingle of ice cubes in glass. 

Oh gawd! Oh I was so embarrassed and my god was he ever fucking hot! He sat and didn't acknowledge me, but glared toward my knelt state.

I was under instructions to keep my eyes lowered, which I did, but once Russell sat, I could see most of him. I didn't think it was possible to feel more naked, than fully naked, but I did. Being naked in a room with someone who is fully clothed is deathly vulnerable. My pussy betrayed me yet again, and started to slick my inner thighs. 

He smiled at me once, maybe to reassure me, before picking up his drink and taking a sip. He cleared his throat and spoke for the first time. 

"This is what you want?" He said, all raspy and sexy-like. His words were chosen carefully. It was almost a question, but had the tone of a statement. It was a masterful choice of words. It limited my control and decision making, although I did answer him. 

"Yes please, Sir," I squeaked out, without hesitating. 

I trembled when he came to help me up, using a firm grip on my wrist. I was taken to the corner of the room, to the padded apparatus affixed to the wall. He cinched-down the binds on my wrists until I was forced onto my toes, then he cuffed my ankles in place. 

Kneeling in a room, anticipating what's to come, provides a great deal of time to scan and interpret visual stimulus. It was not lost on me that Mistress positioned my body facing the coffee table. It was not lost on me that the blinds to this room were left open and a-top the coffee table, were two clothespins and a flogger. 

And now, I was at my most vulnerable of the session, bound, exposed and naked, in the presence of this intimidatingly, gorgeous man. 

He knelt down as he approached me, running a finger along the tops of my feet and toes, finally onto my toenails. 

"Keep these painted for me, baby pink," was all he said. 

I replied with a, "yes Sir." I was dreadfully embarrassed that my toenails were not done for him.

He ran a muscular hand up my leg and thigh and onto my pussy which he grabbed in a fist motion. I gasped out loud as he did. 

"Keep this shaved bald for me, slut." He hissed. "Your asshole too, hairless."

I groaned out loud in pure, desperate arousal. It was involuntary. I was such a whore to have groaned like that. But fuck me! He was inspecting me! Claiming me! Like my Master had just purchased me at some seedy auction. 

He continued his horrible and beautiful objectification, cupping my tits in his palms for a light bounce. Then his fingertips reached for both of my nipples. It was more of a swirl than a pinch. 

"These need to be a little more responsive." He said out loud. 

Not knowing what to do, or if this was a moment I should speak, I blurted out a, "I'm sorry Sir, I'll do better for you." 

He returned to the couch to sit, sipping from his drink once more. 

He cradled the cold, wet glass in his hands long enough to achieve his objective. He walked back to me and held my nipples with his freezing cold fingertips. They hardened instantly, and goosebumps fluttered across my body. 

"That's better." He commented, in a cavalier tone, before retrieving both clothespins and affixing them to my erect nipples. There was the sharp pain I was wanting, or at least my cunt was wanting. Now we were getting somewhere. 

Master picked up the flogger next, and proceeded to whip my stomach, ribs and tits with the vicious strands of leather. He whipped my tits and nipples until the clothespins came flying off from the impact, causing me to shriek in pain.

"You may scream. There is no shame in it." He calmly counselled, as I struggled to catch my breath through my whimpers. 

Master undid my bondage next, catching me as I was about to collapse down onto the floor. I guess being on my toes for so long had my legs shaky and spent. But on my knees in a puddle of my own degradation, was exactly where he wanted me.  

He controlled my wrists, and he was no longer in his pants, as he dragged me to the middle of the room. 

Nothing was said. He just mashed his erect penis against my lips, until I opened and took him into my mouth. Master has a lovely sized cock. I wasn't sucking it...he was fucking my face and throat with it. 

 

There was lots of beautiful gagging and gucking sounds, which only degraded me further. 

I tried to use my hands at one point, on his cock. I was quickly and sharply slapped in the face. Not at all violently, it was corrective. I need correction in this role, I have dreamed of being corrected in this way. 

He simply said, "No!" After the slap. Like he was scolding a dog. I carried on with only my mouth, like the filthy slut that I am, until Master came down my throat and onto my face. 

After this, I was told I was getting another whipping. 100 lashes to be exact, on my bare bum, back and thighs. Master was very specific this time, with what he intended to do. Likely because I was once again bound into a stress pose, to be left and to anticipate this flogging. Only this time, I was wearing his cum on my face, proudly!

slut sarah

xoxo

Continued in: All Three Holes