Date: Tue, 3 Jan 2006 06:54:50 -0800 (PST)
From: Jen Genseler <jengurlez@yahoo.com>
Subject: Dark Daze

Dark Daze: Part I

By

Jen G.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction containing
graphic descriptions of sex and is not for minors.
Emails are welcomed by me if they are courteous:
jengurlez@yahoo.com


I decided to share this episode of my life because I
still can't believe how a few hours could have created
such an amazing and revolutionary change in one person
-- that person being myself.  It's only been about 2
years since the event which I'm about to describe
occurred, but le me get one thing straight (no pun
intended) -- I am not advocating that anyone do what I
did or even read this if you object to `deviant'
sexuality.  Go somewhere or read something vanilla.
But for those of you who may be interested I one
person's introduction to the deliciously dark world of
lesbian submission, then read on -- it might help your
fantasy life at least.

I was 27 when all of this happened.  I was working for
a pharmaceutical company as a rep/supervisor -- still
am.  The job's OK: I make enough to live comfortably
and my upbeat personality helps me with sales.  So do
my looks: I'm 5'8", 123-127 lbs depending on the day,
30-22-32, long dark hair and hazel eyes.  Because I'm
a long-distance cyclist my thighs are pretty
well-developed.  Unlike most women I've ever known, I
am not ashamed of my puny breasts -- they're about the
size of a small mouthful, but my nipples are very
large and very very sensitive.  People tell me I'm
pretty, but I'm not so sure -- but I am sure of my
physicality and femininity.

I've been out of the closet since my early twenties.
It took me a while to admit to myself that I just
didn't like guys in a sexual way.  My first sexual
experiences with them were less than disappointing,
just never did anything for me.  Finally during a trip
out of town I had a little too much to drink and ended
up in a girl's hotel room and I discovered the
wonderfulness of women and satisfying orgasms.  I can
still remember how sweet her pussy tasted...my first
sampling of another woman's love-juices.

I'm living alone now, pretty happily, but 2 years ago
I was in a `relationship' with my roommate.  She's a
great person, but after the first few months our sex
life really got boring. She's definitely all-vanilla
and I was definitely looking for something more.
Anyway, it was during one of our lengthy humdrum
phases that I met Caroline and through her was
initiated into an amazing new world of incredible
feeling, and through her discovered what really turned
me on.  Now I can't imagine my life without "it."

Caroline was a researcher at our company.  I got to
know her after a presentation on one of our new
products.  She's a blonde, a few inches shorter than I
am, in her late 30s but really really trim and fit and
incredibly sexy even though she plays down her looks --
never wears makeup except for a little lipstick,
always dresses conservatively, etc.  The office
scuttlebutt says that she had a messy divorce a few
years back and since then she's basically just worked
hard and pretty much kept to herself.  There were a
few rumors that she `turned lez' because of her ex.

She fascinated me.  Not only was she beautiful (she's
small-breasted like me, quite slender but curvy, has
long sexy legs and an incredibly gorgeous ass), but
she also had an aura of quiet strength.  Whenever we
ran into each other I just couldn't take my eyes off
her.  I finally got up the nerve to suggest lunch
using the pretext that I could use a little help from
her on some of the medications I was representing, and
it was nice.  We talked business and then girl-talk,
nothing heavy, and we liked each other.  Then we got
into the habit of lunching every other week and
becoming friendly.  I knew I was tremendously turned
on by her but I thought I hid it fairly well and I
didn't have any intentions of screwing up relationship
with Sarah (in case you didn't know it, it's really
hard to find a girl-partner out there in the real
world).

During the spring I mentioned how much I loved to bike
in the countryside, getting away from the city, and
Caroline told me that she had a great vacation home in
the "mountains" upstate, a few hours drive from the
city.  The house was a relic of her marriage -- the ex
got to keep their city home.  Then she sent my stomach
into freefall when she invited me up for a weekend in
June. She knew I was attached, but she was clear in
extending the invitation to me alone.  She described
how lovely the scenery was and how beautiful it would
be to bike through it.

As the weekend approached I simply told Sarah I had to
go away for an out-of-town conference and she didn't
give it a second thought.  Caroline instructed me to
come up on Friday night after work on my own since she
would be driving up in the morning, but she suggested
that I take Monday off so that things wouldn't be
rushed.

When Friday arrived I could barely contain myself and
had to struggle to keep focused, and then during the
drive I had to keep telling myself not to rush. Yet I
couldn't help pleasantly fantasizing about making love
to this beautiful woman, despite the pangs of guilt I
felt about Sarah.   I had decided to play it safe in
the clothing department... I wore a light summery dress
that accentuated my olive skin and Dansko clogs, and
brought a few other casual items in my overnight bag.
I was used to traveling light.  But I was also wearing
a very sexy silk bra and panties, and packed a thong
and a fine-mesh see-through bra just in case I got
lucky. Not that I had any expectations aside from a
little naughty secret fun....

Caroline was al smiles when I pulled up after dark.
She was in worn jeans and cowboy boots and a man's
white oxford shirt pulled up above her midriff -- a far
cry from how she dressed at work, that's for sure. She
was in fantastic shape and had a ballet dancer's body.
In this relaxed atmosphere her face was especially
sweet and alluring, and as we kissed hello her lips
brushed against mine.

"Make yourself at home", she said, "I've got plenty of
food if you're hungry".  I didn't have much of an
appetite for food, but I accepted the opportunity to
share some wine.  So we settled down on her sofa and I
was admiring the view of the woods as she bustled
about in her spacious retreat. It was at least a mile
from the nearest neighbor and surrounded by forest all
round.

"This is really spectacular", I gushed.

"Thank you, Jen, I thought you'd like it  -- the air's
so wonderful up here... Are you tired?" she queried.

"Not at all", I replied, "I feel so energetic..."  I was
also feeling a very pleasant buzz from the first glass
of wine.

We started chatting while soft jazz played in the
background unobtrusively.  It dawned on me how
`romantic' everything seemed -- low lights, lovely
music, and Caroline, who looked so radiantly sensuous.

"Some more wine?" she asked.

"Why not?" I giggled sheepishly.  Caroline rose and
returned with a full glass and a shallow glass bowl,
which she set at her feet.  I was speechless and the
hair on the back of my neck tingled, and I didn't want
to break the spell of the evening, so I kept silent.

After a long minute of Caroline's eyes burning into
mine, she said, "I thought you wanted more wine,
Jennifer?"

The way she said "Jennifer" gave me butterflies -- I
can't explain it -- there was a kind of power and
challenge in her voice. Yes, she was very beautiful,
very feminine, and very powerful.  And in this moment
I found myself falling into a decisive action that
would change my life irrevocably.  Something gave way
within me: my throat grew dry and my knees week.
Before I even knew what I was doing I was on my hands
and knees quietly lapping the wine from the bowl at
Caroline's feet.

Caroline caressed my long silken hair and murmured
sultrily, "I think I know what you really need,
Jennifer".

This sent a shock through me.  Caroline then gathered
my hair in swept it away from my face as I drank
gingerly.  I could smell her arousal.  I can't
describe how I felt -- overwhelmed by sexual tension,
by shame and mortification, by an awareness of
something so degraded but so deliciously liberating,
and by the consciousness of having made a clear, if
frightening, choice.

Caroline moved my head gently into and out of the
bowl, asserting control. We played a little game  --
she lowered my head just out of reach of my extended
tongue, and pulled it up completely out of range,
teasing.  I loved being treated like this, being
teased.  She finally let me finish and then yanked my
head up sharply.  Out of the blue she smartly smacked
my wine-stained mouth.

"Naughty girl!" she exclaimed.  And she slapped me
again, harder, and again, and again.  My pussy grew
wet and Caroline was aware of my state.

"I know exactly what you need, Jennifer, whether you
realize it or not", she whispered, "and before long
you're going to be begging me to do things you've
never even dreamed of".

I was now burning with shame and excitement.  I'd
never willingly ever let anyone slap me before -- and
here I was growing so hot and wet with desire for this
`quiet' professional woman whom I hardly knew because
she had slapped my pretty face.  What more was she
capable of, was I capable of?

I wanted to slip her jeans and panties off and sink my
slapped face into her cunt.  I wanted to please her.

Then Caroline bent over and kissed me long and deep,
all the while holding my hair firmly in hand.  At the
end of this delicious kiss she lifted my skirt and
smacked my left buttock sharply and I purred.

"You've been waiting a long time for this", she
murmured.  I bowed my head.

How can I really describe the depths of tumultuous joy
as I submitted, the anxiety, the fear, the desperate
sexual yearning as Caroline unbuttoned the back of my
dress and in one stroke ripped the rest of it apart,
leaving me only in my sexy lingerie and clogs?  How
she wound the dress remnant around my wrists behind my
back, binding them, how she tenderly kissed the side
of my neck before leading me downstairs?

We entered a very large room with surprisingly high
ceilings, a combination den, rec room and gym.  One
entire wall was mirrored, against which was positioned
a sturdy ballet bar.  A small trapeze bar hung from
the ceiling near the pommel horse, and I figured out
that she must have been both dancer and gymnast, which
accounted for her incredible body.  And in the corner
was a boxing speed bag, probably a leftover from her
ex.  I also saw a rack for small weights and a workout
bench.

On the other side of the room were a large comfortable
sofa, a reclining chair, a small table and an
impressive multimedia cabinet with all kinds of
drawers and compartments. There was also a coffee
machine and a small sink.

Caroline guided me to the sofa.  I wanted simply to
kiss her but instead I just sat looking quizzically.

"You must have to pee, she said, so why don't you
relieve yourself and crawl back to me.  The bathroom's
through the door near the sink".

I did as she advised, clumsily wiping myself with my
bound hands, and when I returned Caroline had
unbuttoned her shirt to reveal a sexy white lace bra.
She took my hand and started to speak softly.

"Jennifer, before you and I take this plunge", she
said, heightening my tension and curiosity, "I want to
go over a few things, a few basic guidelines for the
weekend". She spoke hypnotically.   "I want to do this
right...  I know you've been a bit smitten by me --
your eyes follow me everywhere I go at the office.
And I've had my eye on you too... you're incredibly sexy
and lovely and you're wasting yourself in a dead-end
lesbian partnership-prison. You might as well get
married to your typical male buffoon", she continued
with more than a trace of bitterness.   "I'm going to
introduce you to something a little more exciting...but
you have to trust me.  It will get very very intense
but you will not be hurt, there will be no permanent
marks to defile your lovely body, and I'm not into
bathroom humor, if you get my drift.  You will speak
only when spoken to from here on in, and address me by
my name.  I will call you whatever I want, whenever I
want, and do with you whatever I want".

She leaned in and I was mesmerized into kissing her
and holding her passionately.  We broke from our
clinch and she was smiling.

"Now, Jennifer, you'll show me that you accept these
terms by lighting the dozen candles in our playroom".
She unbound my hands and offered me a lighter. The
room was already warmly and tastefully lit by several
lamps, but the candles added a powerfully sensual and
mysterious ambience.  I "signed" the contract on the
dotted line, so to speak.

"Kneel", she commanded.  I obeyed.

"Lick the heel and sole of my boot, slowly".

I bent my head and turned it sideways and very slowly
ran my tongue along the underside of her footwear,
tasting the grit of country soil.

"Would you like me to spit on your face, slut?"

I gulped and nodded slightly, unable to speak.  She
spat on my cheek.

"Did you like that?"

I nodded, being quite honest, as the spittle sent a
thrill down my spine.

"You obviously like being slapped...do you want me to
slap you again?"

I nodded again.

"What do you say?"

"Please".

"Please what?"

"Please ... slap me", I stammered.

She complied by stinging me on the very cheek she had
spat on.  I could feel the burn of her handprint.

"What do you say?"

"Thank you".

She slapped my other cheek harder, this time using the
back of her hand.

"Thank you, what?"

"Thank you, Caroline".

"Very good".

My whole body was tingling as I kissed the hand she
brought to my mouth, the hand that had just slapped
me, and my breathing and pulse were quickening.

She kissed me tenderly on the lips and I melted, and
before I knew it everything went dark: Caroline had
blindfolded me.

At that very instant I was literally seized by an
overwhelming and desperate desire to be used -- to be
Caroline's complete and total slave, to be slapped and
pinched and whipped and bound and fucked and handled
and spat on and humiliated simply according to her
whim.  I was willing to do anything she asked of me
except shed blood.
Where had this all come from?  I still don't know the
answer, except to say that whatever its origins the
sense of indescribably exhilarating liberation in
submission is beyond my abilities to convey: it's
total and absolutely breathtakingly wonderful.

"Let's see if you can earn your collar, bitch", hissed
Caroline as she yanked me to my feet.

I was in the dark in more ways than one... Every step
became an adventure, every sound a source of concern.
I was eventually guided to the padded workout bench --
I could tell by its reclining back.

"Raise your arms above your head and sit absolutely
still".

I complied willingly and felt my wrists being cuffed
with what I guessed was some kind of padded leather,
and then somehow fastened by a chain to the back of
the bench.  My chest was exposed and vulnerable, even
though I still had on my flimsy bra.  The same kinds
of cuffs were placed on my ankles.  My thighs were
spread widely and my feet brought around the sides of
the bench and fastened underneath to its supports.  My
ass was perched on the very edge of the seat and my
pussy pushed up and open, utterly at Caroline's mercy
unprotected by the thin fabric of my panties.

Caroline lifted my head slightly off the bench and
gathered up my hair and I felt a strap of some sort
just above my ears.

"Open your mouth", she commanded, and I obeyed, and a
round solid plastic ball was affixed.

"I want to make sure your sense of helplessness is
complete, Jennifer.  I really don't need to silence
you -- no-one would hear anything around here.  But I
do want you to know the feeling that you simply can't
cry for help, that you are totally dependent on my
mercies and whims".

The ball-gag filled my mouth but had an air-hole
allowing me to exhale through it, and I could feel
Caroline grabbing onto it from the front as if there
were something attached to it, something that allowed
her to handle it.

There was silence....

"Lie there for a while and get used to being my ... my
prey.  Now try to move".

I squirmed a little and wiggled but I was securely
bound to the bench, unable to close my legs or cover
my breasts.

:Now, shout for me, bitch".

A barely audible and muffled `unnhh' was all that
escaped.

Caroline shocked me when I felt her hands quickly
unclasp my bra from behind and then felt her raise the
bra up over my head and all the way to my wrists.

What delectable morsels, she said, before gently
kissing and sucking on each rock-hard nipple sending a
jolt of lust down to my pussy.

The first sharp clamp on my left nipple made me cry
out reflexively, and then I figured out what was on
the ball-gag -- a small ring -- because I could hear
Caroline thread a chain through it before she clamped
my right nipple.  It hurt and thrilled me and I
squirmed and started breathing heavily.  Caroline
pulled on the chain causing me to shriek in pain, and
then tightened it so that my head was pulled forward
as far as it could go, and still my nipples were being
stretched and pulled mercilessly.

I guess I had an idea about what was coming next,
mainly because I occasionally rented an all-girl
bondage video.  Only I just couldn't believe that this
was really happening to me and I grew sincerely
afraid.  My smooth-shaven pussy was my pride and joy...
And it was now utterly out of my power to protect.  It
was soaking wet with my lust, and when Caroline placed
the palm of her hand on my cunt my hips bucked upwards
a bit out of the sheer shock.  Yet her hand felt so
very comforting and when she kissed my pussy lips
through my panties I was almost delirious.  I yearned
for her to make me cum, to give me release, even
though I realized it was far too early to be rewarded.

Caroline literally tore my panties off suddenly and my
pussy gushed with the excitement -- I was aroused
beyond belief. Then the clamps... On either lip... and
the chain threaded up through my gag, taut, pulling
fiercely on my cunt despite my leaning forward as far
as possible.

"Have you ever been punished before, Jennifer?"

I could hardly do anything but snort in response.

"We all need to be punished for something, don't we?
Let's see, why don't I punish you for betraying your
girlfriend so cavalierly?"

I was breathless with fear and effort and excitement --
it seemed as if every bit of my body was aflame,
alive... I could feel the warm stream of drool that
snaked down between my breasts, over my flat tummy and
all the way to my pussy and the cleft between my thigh
and cunt.

The first blow of Caroline's crop landed right on my
drool-moistened mons and I instinctively reared
backward, only to send sharp agonizing piercing pain
to my nipples and cunt lips. Oh god it hurt so much!!!
Yet I also knew I deserved it somehow -- why else
would I become aroused by pain unless I were an
utterly depraved slutty whore?

"That's my little bitch", purred Caroline. "Now nod if
you'd like me to use the crop long and hard on your
tender sexy skin".

To my utter disbelief, I nodded....

Caroline was merciless, aiming and landing blows on my
stomach, flanks, inner and outer thighs, even on my
clamped nipples, and try as I might I couldn't stop my
reflexes to arch backwards, thus increasing the pain
many times.  But it was glorious somehow...and I noticed
that Caroline had left my poor pussy untouched, and
strangely, in between her stinging smacks I found
myself yearning for my neglected cunt to be whipped.
I yelped and whimpered and caught my breath and
Caroline paced her rhythm for maximum surprise, nearly
always catching me off guard.  I heard the whistle of
the crop too late to tense myself in protection.

She brought the crop down harder and harder on my
inner thighs, making my legs spread wider and lifting
my ass off the bench, and then -- then she brought it
down hard and fierce on my cunt, clamps and all, and I
thought I would pass out...She  mercifully slipped the
clamps off my pussy and nipples -- but this hurt almost
as much as yanking on the clamps did.  And when I
finally caught my breath she went to work on my naked
poor exposed vulnerable burning sopping pussy.  She
continually modified the intensity and rhythm of her
strokes and I felt myself surging with an incipient
orgasm, only to have an incredibly vicious smack on my
cunt cut it short with unbearable pain... My my my...
even now as I write I'm breathless.

"Good girl", said Caroline, finally. "Sarah isn't the
only one who's pussy-whipped you".

I lay in a delicious dreamy sort of languor. Never had
I felt so alive, all of my senses on high alert, and
never had I felt such gratitude and lust mixed
together.  Caroline removed the gag and kissed me
lovingly on my mouth and I returned her kisses, taking
great comfort in knowing that I was pleasing her and
more -- that I was really turning her on.

"Thank you", I whispered dreamily.

"Are you my slut, Jennifer?"

"Yes, Caroline."

"Say it for me please, say `I am Caroline's slut'".

"I am Caroline's slut".

"Are you my bitch?"

"I am Caroline's bitch".

"Are you my whore?"

"I am Caroline's whore".

"Are you my cunt?"

"I am Caroline's cunt".

"Louder".

"I am Caroline's cunt".

"Louder, cunt!"

"I AM CAROLINE'S FUCKING WHORE-CUNT! I AM CAROLINE'S
FUCKING CUNT! I AM CAROLINE'S CUNT!!!"  I spat my
shouted words with abandon, exulting.

"If you're lucky you may also become Caroline's
lover".



I found myself being freed from the bench and helped
to my feet.  The entire front of my body was tingling.
Caroline removed the blindfold and there I was,
standing in front of the wall-mirror.  The room was
lit only by candlelight and the effect was eerie and
beautiful.  I could see my lovely slender sexy body,
my deliciously abused body in the mirror, gleaming
with sweat and drool, my hair again in Caroline's firm
grasp. I looked like a wild and wonderful animal:  I
fascinated myself and was fascinated with Caroline,
who looked so incredibly sexy and strong in just her
black thong and cowboy boots.   Her taut gymnast's body
was so enticing, and I was proud to be her plaything ...
How strange this all was?  It all seemed so perfectly
natural, all of this sadistic perversity, all of my
masochism... But was it truly sadistic, or truly
masochistic?  The pain was unlike any other pain I've
ever experienced -- spraining your ankle or falling off
a bike onto an asphalt street, now that's real pain.
The pain Caroline introduced was very very different:
it was erotic and deeply satisfying and explosively
arousing.

"You look lovely, Jennifer", said Caroline, admiring
her new handiwork.  "And so sexy in those clogs -- I
love them, I love the way they accentuate your strong
legs and gorgeous butt.  Speaking of which ... Your
backside has had hardly any attention so far".

I swallowed hard, not believing she would use me
further this evening.

Silently she led me to the pommel horse.  She attached
my wrist cuffs to each of the grips on the top, and my
ankle cuffs to the supports at either end on the
bottom of this piece of gymnastic equipment.  I was
barely visible as I faced the mirror in the dim
candlelight.

Caroline walked away and returned with a whip: it
struck fear into my heart.  It's tendrils were long
and menacing.

"Trust me, Jennifer". Her voice was both authoritative
and reassuring.

"Yes, Caroline", I said dreamily, "I trust you
completely".  Caroline was a blurry and shadowy figure
in the mirror as the first blow of the whip landed on
my buttocks, stinging me beyond imagination.  My ass
was on fire.

"Arch your back, like the  fucking whore you are".

The next blow, equally hard, lashed my upper back and
I cried out.

"Scream all you want, darling", said Caroline
casually.

And scream I did.  She was masterful in her lustful
cruelty, lash after lash striking my poor young
charged flesh from my neck to my heels.  She stopped
suddenly, allowing me to catch my breath.

"Have you screamed enough, bitch?"

"Yes, I heaved, yes Caroline".

"Good...."

A minute went by...I thought she had stopped, finally.

Instead, Caroline said with pique, "I'm waiting".

I didn't get it -- waiting?  For what?  Another minute
went by in silence and the burning had begun to
subside on my back and ass, and now I figured it out:
I myself wanted more, was ready for more... I missed
being flogged, crazy as it sounds.

"Please punish me more, Caroline, please whip me ...
harder...  Please...".  I was now doing what Caroline
had predicted -- begging for things I could never
before have imagined I'd do in real life.

Caroline approached and whispered `good slut' in my
ear, and then commenced to whip me with wild abandon.
I squirmed and writhed in vain, I panted like a bitch
in heat, and I thanked her after every powerful and
well-placed stroke.

"Thank you, Caroline, thank you for whipping me, thank
you for whipping your fucking cunt slut, thank you,
thank you!"

I think it was the last of her two-handed strokes that
broke me... I was held on my feet only by my wrist
cuffs. I leaned back, my knees bent, breathing rapidly
and Caroline artfully managed to land her final blow
on my midriff, shocking me to attention.

When she returned, having left me to recover on my own
and to gaze at my dim reflection in the mirror, she
fastened and locked a ringed leather collar around my
neck.
I guess I had earned it.

I was in a delicious dark daze as Caroline guided me
to my bed upstairs.  She anointed my body with oils
and balms and lay me down on the soft welcoming
mattress.  I needed to cum so badly, and I was waiting
for my reward -- Caroline's expert lips on her slave's
agonizingly deprived cunt.  But instead Caroline
coolly cuffed my wrists and ankles to the bedposts.

"I don't want you to touch yourself ...Cumming is a
privilege requiring my permission.  And from now on
you will address me as Mistress."

And after the softest of soft kisses on my lips my
gorgeous mistress quietly exited.

End of Part I. ... to be continued.

Comments welcome: jengurlez@yahoo.com