Date: Tue, 11 May 2010 18:38:00 EDT
From: ldavis4@hotmail.com
Subject: The Reporter

The Reporter (f/f/f  bnd) by Laura Lynn Davis

I was sitting in my usual spot in the last booth, working  on a history
paper, when she came in.  It was late April and I would be graduating from
college in less than  three weeks.  The paper I was  working on was the last one
I'd ever write unless I decided to go on to grad  school, something that
seemed fairly unlikely at the time.  My name is Hanna Hill and I own a bar
called The Haven.
It was 10:30 in the morning, a little early for the lunch  crowd, so I
wondered what she was doing there.  She wasn't much older than me, maybe 24  or
25, and she was well-dressed so she wasn't a lush looking for an early
pick-me-up.  Carol, the day  bartender, drifted over to her and they began
talking.  I shrugged and went back to work on my  paper.
A few moments later I heard a footstep and a soft voice  said, "Ms.
Hill, may I talk to you for a  moment?"
I glanced up and smiled.  "Of course, please sit  down."
She slid into the booth and held her hand out.  "I'm Sara Livingston.
I'm a writer."
We shook hands.  "Hanna Hill.  I own The  Haven."
She glanced at my laptop.  "Doing the  books?"
"I wish!  No,  I'm working on a history paper that's due tomorrow.  I'm a
senior at the university and this,  thank God, is my last paper." I paused
and saved the paper.  "What can I do for you, Ms.  Livingston?"
"Please, call me Sara.  May I call you Hanna?" I nodded and she
continued.  "I'm doing an article on  the local S/m scene and I've heard that The
Haven is the center of things around  here."
"Which publication are you  with?"
She shrugged.  "None, actually.  I'm a  freelance writer and I'm doing
this on spec."
I studied her for a moment.  She was blonde and pretty but there was
something about her, something dark and brooding, that made me feel that there
was more to this than writing an article.  I was intrigued.  I'd been  bored
lately and now that school was winding down it was time for me to rectify
that.
I decided that talking to her wouldn't do any harm.  The Haven was well
known locally.  My aunt bought the place in the late  `70s.  It was just
another bar but  then, gradually, my aunt had changed it into a lesbian hangout.
My aunt was heavily into the S/m scene  and so it's not surprising that The
Haven soon became the lesbian S/m bar  in the tri-county area.  My aunt,
Grace, was my mother's younger sister, the black sheep of the family, rarely
mentioned and then only in whispers.
In 1993, shortly after my fourteenth birthday, my parents  were killed in
an automobile accident.  The rest of the family began to dither and argue
about what to do with  me.  While they were occupied my  Aunt Grace swept in
and carried me off.  There were some protests, given her lifestyle, but,
truthfully, they were  all relieved to have the Hanna problem solved.
Aunt Grace took me to live with her in her comfortable  suburban house.
She enrolled me in the Catholic high school and told me  to keep my skinny
butt on the straight and narrow or I'd have to deal with  her.  "No drugs.
No sex.  Do your school work on time and I'll  expect to review every
assignment before you turn it in.  I won't accept anything lower than an  `A'.
Any  questions?"
I remember nodding.  "Yes, one.  Can I have some  fun once in a while?"
She grinned.  "Yes, but I want you to remember this.  Each family has room
for one smartass  and that's my job.  Got  me?"
I nodded.  "Yes, ma'am."
In 1997 Grace was diagnosed with cancer of the  liver.  She died in 1998,
two weeks  after my nineteenth birthday and I inherited The Haven and a tidy
trust  fund.  The rest of the family  gathered around, eager to grab what
they could, but I had a good lawyer, Grace's  lawyer, and she ran them off.
By then, I'd been working as a waitress/barmaid for more  than a year.
It wasn't legal, because I was a minor, but nobody's ever  complained.
The Haven was grossing  over $100,000 a month.  We drew a  good lunch crowd,
mostly straight women who liked having lunch at a place where  they wouldn't
be hassled by men.  A  lot of them also came in for a drink after work.  By
eight they'd be gone and the regulars  would start drifting in.
Anyway, that's my background and that's what I told Sara  that morning. I
told her that I had a good manager who ran the place on a  day-to-day basis
and had a 10% share of the business.  Then I told her I really had to finish
 my paper and invited her to return in the evening and we'd talk more. She
smiled  and nodded and I watched her leave.  She walked with a confident,
athletic stride.  She was wearing a skirt, a short skirt  that showed off her
nice legs.  I  felt a stir of interest as I watched her out the  door.
I continued working on my paper, moving back to the  office when the lunch
crowd started arriving.  I finished the paper shortly after 4  p.m.  and
dropped a printed copy off  at the professor's office.  I had a  class from
5-6:30 and then I went back to The Haven.  I'd sold the house after Aunt Grace
died  and moved into the apartment upstairs from the bar.  It was more
convenient and much more  suited to my needs.  I fixed myself  a salad and read
the paper while I ate.  Then I changed into leather pants, a sleeveless silk
T-shirt, and a  leather vest that matched the pants.  A pair of leather
ankle boots completed my  outfit.
I looked in the full-length mirror on the back of the  bathroom door before
I went downstairs and decided I didn't look too bad for a  freckled,
redheaded tomboy who'd suffered two broken noses playing  basketball.  I'm a
skosh over 5' 7"  and I weigh 135 pounds.  I'm in good  shape and I work hard
to stay that way.  I look deceptively slender because much of my weight is
muscle.
I went downstairs and conferred with Carla, my  manager.  Carla is a tall,
African-American in her early thirties.  She started working for Aunt Grace
right out of high school.  When I got curious about the S/m scene  and
snuck into the bar one night it was Carla who caught me.  I was eighteen and had
just graduated  from high school.
She marched me back to the office and asked Aunt Grace  what she should do
with me.  Aunt  Grace asked me a couple of questions and decided to teach me
a lesson.  She smiled at Carla and said, "So, she's  curious.  I think she
needs a  lesson.  Take her downstairs and  teach her a good one.  I want to
see  welts when you're done."
Carla marched me down to the basement and through an  unmarked door at the
far end of the stockroom.  The door opened into a surprisingly  spacious
room that had been fitted out as a dungeon.  It was empty at that moment.
Carla pushed me ahead of her and locked  the door behind us.  `Get your  clothes
off, Hanna."
When I didn't move fast enough to suit her she gave me a  lazy backhanded
slap across my mouth.  It wasn't a particularly hard slap but it stung and I
felt a trickle of  blood.  She's split my lip.  I stripped as quickly as I
could.  I was scared and excited.  More scared than excited actually.  The
floor was bare cement and cold under  my bare feet.  "Down on your knees,
bitch."
I dropped to my knees and Carla crouched and taught me  how to position
myself.  "Back  straight, eyes on the floor, ankles crossed, knees spread, arms
at your sides."  She watched as I adjusted my position.  "Good.  Some
mistresses  prefer to have the slave's hands clasped behind their neck.  I'm
one of them." She smiled when I  quickly clasped my hands behind my neck.  "
Lace your fingers together.  Good."
She stood up and glanced down.  "Hmm.  I seem to have some dust on the toes
of  my boots.  Lick it off.  Keep your hands where they are." It was  hard
but I managed to lean forward and lick the toes of her boots while keeping
my hands laced behind my neck.  I  managed not to lose my balance but I wasn'
t very graceful.  I improved with  practice.
Carla crouched and slipped her hand between my legs.  I saw her eyes widen
in surprise.  "You're a virgin!" I blushed and  nodded.  Her hands were
rough and  callused from hard work but they were gentle as they explored my
vulva.  "Have you ever had an  orgasm?"
Again, I shook my head and blushed.  "No."
She slapped me, a light slap to get my attention.  "The proper reply is no,
Ms.  Carla.  Or no, mistress.  Try again and answer  fully."
The fear was ebbing a little, and I was getting more  excited.  "No,  Ms.
Carla, I've never had an  orgasm."
She smiled and stroked my cheek.  "Much  better."
I didn't have one then, either.  She stood up, grabbed my ponytail, and
jerked me to my feet.  I screamed as  the pain lanced through my scalp.  She
dragged me to the center of the dungeon and within moments my hands  were
tied and held over my head by a rope that snaked over a pulley and was tied  to
a ringbolt set in a 4"x4" post six feet away.  She took another rope that
was dangling  over another pulley and ran it between my legs, up through the
crevice between  my buttocks, and tied it off to a ringbolt set high in
another 4"x4" that was  behind me, about three feet away.
The rope worked its way between my labia as she tugged on  it.  The
friction wasn't  unpleasant.  It hurt when she jerked  on the rope but I quickly
discovered that rubbing myself against the rope  produced a very pleasant
sensation in my pussy.  When she came around in front of me  again she was
carrying a flogger.  It was similar to a cat-o nine-tails but the individual
strands were  rope, not knotted leather, and much shorter, about 16" long.  She
actually had two, one with cowhide  strands for warm-up and then one with
Elk hide which landed with a harder thud  and hurt more.
I glanced at her fearfully and whispered, "What are you  going to do?"
She smiled.  "I'm going to warm you up with this and then later I'm going
to put some  welts on your butt so your Aunt will be satisfied I've done my
job." She walked  around behind me.  "Arch your back  girl, push that
pretty ass toward me."
I obeyed and she brought the flogger down across my  butt.  It hurt but it
wasn't a  terrible pain.  More like a warming  pain if you know what I mean.
 I  grunted softly.  She worked my butt  over good, alternating sides with
each blow.  Each stroke made me lunge forwards a  little, rubbing my clit
against the rope.  She kept reminding me to arch my back to keep my butt out.
I took ten or twelve strokes across my  ass and then she switched to my
back.  After another ten or twelve she walked around in front of me and brought
 the flogger down across my right breast.
I'm not that big on top, 34b/c, but my tits are pretty  and I have very
sensitive nipples.  Having my tits flogger hurt more than having my back or ass
flogged and I  began to whimper as she worked my tits over.  Interestingly,
my nipples hardened and I  became more and more aroused.  She  moved back
behind me after two dozen strokes and began working my ass over  again.  I
began to breathe more  deeply and I started to sweat.  Between strokes, Carla
talked to me.  Told me I was a pretty slut and would  make a good slave.  "
Maybe your aunt  will let me train you." She stopped after a couple of
minutes.  I was close to orgasm and I moaned in  disappointment but I continued to
rub myself against the rope.  She stroked my ass.  "You're a hot little
slut.  You want  more?"
I nodded.  "Yes, oh yes.  Please."
"Where?"
"My ass!  Hard.  And then my tits.  Yes, please whip my tits.  Hard as you
can."
She gave me a dozen very hard strokes across my ass with  the Elk flogger.
I lunged against the rope with each stroke.  Then she moved in front and
whipped my  tits.  I whimpered in pain with each  stroke, lunging backward.
The rope  rubbed against my anus.  After each  stroke I lunged forward for the
next.  I came after six hard strokes across my tits.  I was sweating
profusely.  I rubbed myself on the rope and  whimpered in pleasure as I came and
came.
When it was over, Carla used a strap to put some welt on  my butt.  The she
released me and  taught me to kneel and kiss the whip after thanking my
tormentor.  Then she put a collar around my neck,  cuffed my wrists behind my
back.  and snapped a leash on my collar.  She led me upstairs to Aunt Grace's
office.  Aunt Grace didn't seem surprised to see  me nude, collared, and
cuffed.  It  wasn't until much later that I learned she'd watched the entire
scene on  closed-circuit television.  In full  color.  Carla led me over to
the  desk and I dropped to my knees as she ordered me to do as we climbed
the  stairs.  Carla let her hand come to  rest on top of my head.  "I want her
 for the summer.  I'll have her  trained by the time she leaves for college
in the  fall."
"She's not leaving.  She's going to the university.  Go ahead, she's
yours until she's trained."
"Thank you.  One thing you should know.  She's a virgin."
Aunt Grace smiled.  "So, you've been a good girl?"
I nodded, blushing.  "Yes, ma'am."
"Do you want Carla to take care of  that?"
I don't know how, but my blush deepened.  I nodded and whispered, "Yes,  ma
'am."
Aunt Grace waved her hand.  "Go ahead, take her.  The two of you can move
in upstairs for  the summer."
So Carla took me upstairs and fucked me with a strap-on  dildo.  It hurt
like hell and I  bled, not a lot, but enough to leave streaks of blood on my
thighs.  I was disappointed when I didn't reach  orgasm.  The summer passed
all too  quickly.  My training was very  intense.  There was lots of pain,
lots of sex, and more humiliation than I wanted.  Carla worked me hard and by
the end of  the summer I was a well-trained slave and I was in the best
shape of my  life.  I was fit and buff.  I'd gotten used to being nude most of
the time and I even came to enjoy being shaved.
Things tapered off when I started college but I still had  at least one
session a week in the dungeon.  I was living in the apartment over the  bar.
Aunt Grace had it painted and  fixed up for me and she bought some new
furniture.  Carla's rule was that I stay naked when  I was in the apartment.  She
had a  key and she'd drop in at odd times.  Sometimes we'd just chat for a
few minutes.  Sometimes she'd fuck me.  Often she'd whip my ass for no
reason  other than her own pleasure.
Things picked up over the Christmas break and in January  Carla told me
that she'd taught me all she could.  She knew I wanted to be a top and she
said I was ready to try.  We had one  last session in the dungeon that lasted
all night.  It was a night with no safeword.  She took me as close to my
breaking  point as I've ever been.  I almost  broke when she spread my buttocks
and kept them spread with duct tape while she  pushed hot needles into the
tender skin around my anus.  I was hanging upside-down, my legs  spread wide.
 I screamed until I was  hoarse and begged for mercy until I passed out.  I
woke up in my own bed.  My ass was sore for several days but I'd  passed
the final test.
That night, I told Sara everything you've just read and  more.  I told her
about my first  sub, a classmate, who'd loved the scene too much and had run
home to her  mother.  I told her about Carla and  Aunt Grace and filled her
in on the local scene while we sat in my booth.  I was drinking vodka,
rocks, and she was  drinking scotch and water.
One thing that came out of my sessions with Carla was a  morbid fear of
canes.  A cane can do  real, lasting damage in the hands of someone who doesn't
know what they're  doing.  Carla used one on me a  couple of times and it
was the worst pain I've ever felt.  Even worse than the hot needles.  When I'
m nude and helpless, just the  sight of a cane can reduce me to hysterical
tears.  When I was stubborn about doing  something Carla would just say, "
Cane," and that would end it.  Even when I'm fully dressed and in  control
the sight of a cane makes me feel sick to my stomach.  And I told this to
Sara,  too.
I'd told Sara to dress casually and she was wearing  jeans, a tshirt, and
running shoes.  Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail.  She
looked like the girl-next-door,  fresh-scrubbed and wholesome.  And  very
pretty.  I took a sip of vodka  and glanced around before asking, "Okay, where do
we go from here?" She'd been  taping our conversation with my permission
and she'd also taken several pages of  notes.
"Can I see the dungeon?"
I nodded.  "Sure.  It's probably not  busy since it's early." It was just
past 9:00 p.m.  and the real action wouldn't start until  close to
midnight.  We finished our  drinks and then I took her downstairs.  The dungeon hadn'
t changed much over the years.  The sound proofing had been improved and
some new toys added but it was still basically the same dungeon Aunt Grace
had  installed.
When we walked in we saw a cute little brunette  spread-eagled on an
x-frame on the west wall.  Her name was Darlene and she was the sub  girlfriend of
a tough leather dyke named Evelyn.  Darlene was stretched tight, gagged,
and  had clamps on her nipples, labia and clit.  Her breasts, belly, and
thighs showed signs of a recent flogging.  She gave no sign that she was aware of
 our presence.  Evelyn had trained  her well.  Evelyn wasn't there so I
assumed she'd gone upstairs for a drink.
I showed Sara around and explained the equipment to  her.  She was
wide-eyed and I saw a  bead of sweat on her upper lip.  The  dungeon is kept fairly
warm but not enough to make her sweat like that.  I knew she was scared.  Or
excited.  When the tour was over we stopped in the  center of the room and
I said, "What now?"
She hesitated.  "I want the whole experience.  I want to know what it's
like to be totally helpless, knowing that I'm  going to feel intense pain."
"Pick a safeword."
She shook her head.  "No, no safeword.  I'd feel  different if I knew I
could stop it at any time."
It was my turn to hesitate.  Having a safeword was the one  unbreakable
rule we had in the dungeon.  I used the wall phone to call upstairs to talk to
Carla.  She wasn't as bothered as I was about  the lack of a safeword and
told me to go ahead.  "I'll come down and check  periodically."
I hung up and turned to Sara.  "Hold your hands out in front of  you."
She put her hands together and held them out in front of  her.  I fastened
leather cuffs  around each of her slender wrists and fastened them together
with a spring  clip.  Then I led her into the  middle of the room and tied
one of the dangling ropes to the cuffs.  I walked over to the post and pulled
the  rope in until Sara's arms were stretch over her head.  There was slack
in the rope but she  wouldn't be able to bring her arms lower than a few
inches above her  head.
I didn't ask her to strip because I wanted to start  slowly.  And I wanted
to uncover her  myself.  Like unwrapping a Christmas  present.  She was very
lovely and I  was starting to feel excited.  I  pulled her t-shirt up and
rubbed her belly.  "You're a beautiful  slut."
She sighed as I rubbed her belly and slanted a glance at  me.  "Do you
really think I'm  beautiful?"
I nodded.  "Yes, I do.  And you know you  are.  You're very aware of your
body.  It shows in the way you move  and the way you look at people.  You'
re not vain but I'm sure you're proud of the way you  look."
She nodded.  "Yes, I am.  But I'm more  proud of the fact that I've worked
hard to stay in shape.  My looks are just luck.  But maintaining my body is
hard  work.  I'm sure you know  that."
I nodded and pulled a pocket knife out of my jeans and  opened the longer
blade.  Her eyes  widened and I saw a flash of fear.  "Relax, I'm just going
to cut your t-shirt off." She nodded and watched  as I cut her t-shirt
away.  She was  wearing a plain cotton bra, Hanes, and I left it for a moment.
I crouched and removed her running shoes  and socks.  Then I unfastened her
belt, unsnapped her jeans, and eased them down and off.  I stuffed her
socks into her running  shoes, folded her jeans, and picked up her ruined
t-shirt.  I took them and put them on a small  table near the door.  I took my
time  because I wanted her to have time to think about what was  happening.
When I waked back to her I put my hands on her hips and  kissed her on the
mouth.  She  struggled for a moment before opening her mouth in surrender.
After a long, satisfying kiss I cut her  bra and panties off.  I ruined them
 deliberately so she'd think about not having them on when she left the
dungeon.
As I'd suspected, her body was superb.  Her firm breasts were a good, full
c-cup, round and beautiful, tipped with pale pink nipples that stood up
like  pencil erasers.  Her complexion was  perfect with only a few freckles
here and there.  Her ass was also superb, her buttocks  firmly rounded,
separated by a deep crease.  Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed but  thick, hiding
her vulva completely.  Her thighs were long and firm, her knees delicately
sculpted, her calves  strong and elegantly curved.  She  was perfect.  And she
was  embarrassed to be nude.
I fondled her tits, teasing her nipples with my  thumbs.  She closed her
eyes and  moaned.  I realized that she was  scared, very scared.  "Do you want
 me to untie you?"
She shook her head.  "No, I want you to punish me." Her voice had changed.
 It was deeper and there was something in  it that made me think that there
was more to her fear than just being nude and  helpless.
"Why?"
She closed her eyes and the look on her face was one of  deep shame.  "I
deserve  it."
Suddenly it hit me.  "Were you abused as a child?"
Her eyes flew open.  "No!" Her voice was now higher, like that of a
teenaged girl.  "No, I wasn't abused.  My daddy fucked me because he love me  and
because mommy wouldn't satisfy his needs."
"So why do you want to be  punished?"
Tears began to stream down her face.  "Be ...  be...  because I told mommy.
 I told her that daddy liked to fuck me  because I was more of a woman than
she was.  I told her that I loved having daddy  fuck me.  I flaunted myself
in front  of her." She fell silent, sobbing.
"And?"
She began to shake her head from side-to-side,  wailing.  "And mommy killed
 herself.  She ran her car into a  bridge abutment.  The police said  there
were no skid marks!" She stood there sobbing and I slipped my arms around
her.  She put her head on my  shoulder and I rubbed her back until she
stopped  crying.
Then I untied her and told her to put her jeans, socks,  and shoes on.
"We've got some t-shirts left over from last year's  softball team.  I
think I can find  one to fit you.  I left her there  and went to get the
t-shirt.  When I  came back she was on her way up the stairs.  Her bare breasts
bounced gently with  each step.  She looked very sexy  topless.  Her eyes were
red and  swollen.  I handed her the t-shirt  when she got to the top of the
stairs.  As she was pulling it over her head Evelyn edged past on her way
downstairs.
I took Sara's hand and led her back into the bar.  I sat her down in my
booth and went to  get us each a stiff drink.  When I  returned we sat in
silence for a few moments.  Then she said, "I still want the  experience.  For my
article, of  course."
I nodded.  "Of course.  But I want you  to go home and sleep on it.  You
can  come back tomorrow.  I'll be here  from noon on.  Probably  earlier."
She nodded.  "Okay." We finished our drinks and I walked her out to her
car.  She was parked in the back lot.  She's 5' 10" so I had to lift myself
on  my toes to kiss her goodnight.  I  ran my hands up under her t-shirt,
enjoying the feel of her soft, smooth skin  under my palms.  "Would you like to
 come home with me?"
I smiled.  "I'd love to but not tonight.  You need to relax and decide if
this is what you really want." I kissed  her again and stepped back so she
could get into her car.  I felt very virtuous as I walked back  inside.
I found Carla.  "Can you get away for a couple of minutes?  I want you whip
 me."
She took me downstairs and whipped me until I was  sobbing.  It didn't make
me feel any  better but it took my mind off Sara.  At the end, sobbing, I
said, "Give me five with a cane." I closed my eyes  and screamed as the cane
raised welts on my ass.  When it was over Carla untied me and  took me back
upstairs to the bar.  I  was still nude as I waited tables until closing
time.  Carla made me do most of the cleanup  myself.  She knew what I needed
in  the mood I was in.  When I finished,  she took me upstairs and fucked me
with a huge punishment dildo.  I cried myself to sleep after she  left.
Saturday morning was unusually warm for April and I took  full advantage.
I ran my errands wearing a pair of soft cotton exercise  shorts, a sports
bra under a skimpy little sleeveless top, socks.  and my Nike cross trainers.
 I did wear a pair of sexy thong  panties.  One of my stops was the  beauty
salon run by one of my favorite customers.  She trimmed my unruly hair and
then I  went in back and one of her girls gave me a full bikini wax.  On the
way out I told her I'd probably  be sending in a new girl for the full
treatment.
I stopped at the bank to use the ATM, the post office,  and the supermarket
before heading over to The Haven.  As usual, Carla was already there.  She'
s still my domme even though it's  not an active, full time relationship.
She'll always be my domme.  She glanced up and smiled as I locked the front
door behind me.  "Strip."
I obediently slipped out of my clothes and folded them  neatly and put them
on a shelf underneath the bar.  I kept my socks and cross trainers.  Carla
ran her fingers over the welts on  my ass and said, "You'll have some
bruises for at least ten days.  Maybe longer." We worked together to get  ready
to open at 1:00 p.m.
Sara showed up at noon, wearing shorts and a halter.  I threw Carla a
pleading glance but she  shook her head and I was still nude when I opened the
door to admit Sara.  Her eyes widened when she saw me  nude.  She was even
more surprised  when she saw the welts on my ass.  Before I could say a work
Carla took over.  "Get your clothes off, bitch.  There's work to do." Sara
gave me a  startled look.  I just  shrugged.  She stripped down to her  socks
and Carla put her to work.
As we worked, I managed to whisper an explanation and  Sara readily
accepted the notion that although I was a domme myself I would  always be Carla's
sub.  We worked  hard for forty-five minutes, finishing with fifteen minutes
to spare before it  was time to open.  Carla pulled out  a chair and sat
down.  She pointed  to the floor in front of the chair and said, "I want you
both on your  knees."
We dropped to our knees in front of her.  I assumed the proper position and
was  impressed when Sara looked at me and assumed the same position.  Carla
leaned forward and ran the back of  her hand over my nipples.  "I want  you
back in a collar for the summer.  Any problems with that?"
The only possible answer was, "No,  ma'am."
She smiled.  "I know I don't have to explain but I will.  I want you under
close supervision when  you train this beauty next to you.  She's too
beautiful and too fragile to risk screwing it up.  Understand?"
I nodded.  "Yes, ma'am."
She glanced at Sara.  "Any objections?  Are you going to submit to this
scrawny  little redheaded scrub?"
Sara, wide-eyed, said, "No objections, ma'am.  And yes, I'm planning to
submit to  Hanna.  I mean Ms.  Hill.  If she'll have  me."
Carla snorted.  "That's a good one, if she'll have you!  Let me tell you
this.  All the time I was working her last  night she was thinking about you.
Girl's in love.  Wants your ass so bad she can't see  straight!  If she
wants you!  Ha.  Girl would crawl over hot coals to lick  the sweat off your
thighs.  That's a  fact!" She glanced at me.  "Isn't  it?"
I shot a quick glance at Sara and then lowered my eyes to  a spot near Carla
's feet.  "Yes,  ma'am.  You're  right."
"Damn right I'm right.  Now get your butts down to the  dungeon.  I got to
open up in ten  minutes."
We scampered downstairs and Carla collared us both.  Then she cuffed us and
had us stand  face-to-face, belly-to-belly, while she looped a rope around
both sets of cuffs  and pulled it until our arms were stretched above our
heads.  My arms, naturally, were stretched more  than Sara's." She left us
there, saying she'd be back in an hour or so.  Before she left she ran a long
strap  around our bodies and cinched it tight so that we were pressed
together.  She fastened the strap and patted each  of us on the butt before
leaving.  She paused at the door to turn the heater on and I saw her push the
thermostat up high.  The dungeon has  its own heat and it was going to get very
warm.
It was very erotic to be belly-to-belly with the most  beautiful woman I'd
ever met, the woman I was falling in love with.  Since she's three inches
taller, her  breasts were kind of resting on top of mine.  I bent my head and
licked her nipples,  one after the other.  She  giggled.  When I shot her a
dirty  look she made a face.  "Sorry, but  it tickled." She bent and kissed
me.  "Do you really love me?"
I nodded.  "Yes, I do."
"And you'll still enslave me?  How can you do that if you love  me?"
"One has nothing to do with the other." It sounds stupid  but it's true.
At least in my case it's true.  I kissed her back.  "You're not really a
reporter, are  you?"
She shook her head.  "No, I'm not." She licked her lips.  "I'm unemployed
right now.  I  was a school teacher until I admitted to being a lesbian.
They fired me the same day.  I could have sued to get my job back and  I
probably would have won but I didn't want to go through all  that."
"So, how'd you wind up in here?  And why pretend to be a reporter?" As I
spoke I pushed my right knee between her legs and rubbed my thigh against
her  vulva.
She moaned.  "I can't think while you're doing that!"
I pulled my knee out from between her legs.  "Sorry."
"I came in the other night with a friend and I saw  you.  You were wearing
that school  girl outfit and looked about seventeen.  I fell in love with
you instantly.  My friend told me a little about you and I decided to play
reporter and  find out more."
"Ummm.  So  you're attracted by the school girl look?  Maybe they were
right to fire your ass." She looked hurt and I was  instantly contrite.  "I'm
sorry.  Bad joke.  You can ask Carla to beat me  later."
She sniffed.  "Don't think I won't.  But  you're right.  I was  attracted
by the school girl look.  You looked so innocent.  I  wanted to rip your
clothes off and go down on you right there in the  bar."
I chuckled.  "It's been done but not too often.  The liquor board frowns
on it."
I eased my knee between her legs again and she sighed  with pleasure as I
rubbed my thigh against her sex.  She spread her feet a little and leaned
against me.  It was getting hot and  we were beginning to sweat.  It was  very
sexy to feel her wet skin rubbing against mine.  I brought her to orgasm
and then it was  my turn.  But in my case, I  masturbated myself by rubbing
against her thigh.  After my orgasm we continued to kiss and  rub against each
other.  We were  sweating profusely and our hair was wet and plastered to
our  heads.
Gradually the head wilted us and we stood quietly, our  bodies touching at
every possible point.  I whispered, "Are you sure about all this?"
She nodded.  "Yes, I want to be your slave.  I love you and I want to be a
good slave."
I sighed.  "I  love you too." I kissed her and at that moment Carla opened
the door.  She released us and shooed us up the  back stairs.  "Go up and
take a  shower and a nap.  I'm going to work  your asses tonight.  You'll
both  work the bar.  Nude." As we  scampered up the stairs she called, "No
sex either or I'll beat you like  drums.  You understand  me?"
We chorused, "Yes, ma'am," and slipped into my  apartment.  She said no
sex but she  didn't say we couldn't explore each other's bodies in the
shower.  We did and only got out when the hot  water was gone.  We dried off,
dried  each other's hair, and cuddled on my bed.  I told Sara I wanted her to
have a full bikini wax.  "I want you bare and  smooth."
She nodded, "Anything you say, ma'am." She hugged me and  we drifted off
to sleep.
Carla woke us at 8:00 p.m.  and told us to get our butts down to the  bar. "
I'm going to rest until midnight.  Annie's got the bar.  You two  do what
she says, hear me?" We nodded and hurried out the door.  Annie was a cute
domme, an Asian girl  with short black hair, beautiful almond-shaped eyes, and
smooth copper  skin.  She and I had a little  history but not much.  Two
dommes  usual don't get along for too long.  But now, under Carla's orders,
Annie was in charge.  She enjoyed seeing me nude and collared  and enjoyed
working my butt off.  She didn't care for blondes so she paid little attention
to Sara.  It was a good thing because I would have  kicked her ass, orders
or no orders, if she'd made a move on Sara.  Carla would have blistered my
ass  afterward but it would have been worth it.
The regulars enjoyed seeing me work nude but they knew  the situation and
knew better than to try to take advantage.  I was stroked and fondled and I
took it  in stride.  Sara was a little  flustered when someone slipped a hand
between her legs but she soon got used to  it.  I enjoyed watching her and
I  especially enjoyed the dreamy look on her face when someone was fondling
her.  The girl definitely liked  being handled.
We worked hard until closing at 2 a.m., and then we  worked hard for
another hour getting the bar cleaned up.  We were closed Sunday, so we could sleep
 late.  Sara was staying with me, of  course.  Carla gave me permission to
begin training Sara.  She warned me  to be careful and said she'd be
talking to us every day.  She left and I locked the door behind  her.  Then I took
Sara's hand and we  walked upstairs to my apartment.
We were so tired we fell asleep almost immediately after  taking a quick
shower.  I woke up at  six a.m.  Sara was still sound  asleep, laying on her
back, legs spread slightly.  I crawled between her legs and began to  lick
and kiss her, high on the soft skin on her inner thighs.  She sighed as my
tongue found her  clit.  I brought her to orgasm  without waking her up.  I
wondered  what she was dreaming about as she came.  She had a sweet taste that
I enjoyed.  After that I stretched out beside her  with my head propped on
my hand and just stared at her magnificent body.  After a while I felt sleepy
again.  I curled up next to her and fell asleep  with my head resting on
her thigh.
I woke again shortly after 11:00 a.m.  I was on my back, my legs spread,
and  Sara was lightly stroking my bare vulva with the tips of her fingers.
Her face was about six inches from my  pussy and she looked fascinated.  She
glanced up at me and smiled, "I've never looked at another woman's  cunt
from this close!  Yours is so  beautiful!  And so delicate." She  eased her
finger into me and I moaned with pleasure.  She grinned as I pushed myself
against  her finger, whimpering in need.  She  placed her thumb on my clit and
began to rub.  I moaned and whimpered and screamed with  pleasure when I
came.  She held her  hand in front of my face and I licked her finger  clean.
"Are you going to start training me this  morning?"
I shook my head.  "No, I can't.  I have to call  Carla."
She was clearly puzzled.  "Why?"
I shook my head.  "You'll see." I dialed Carla's home number and when she
answered I said,  "It's Hanna.  Can you train  Sara?  Can you handle both
of us for  a few months?"
"Why?"
I glanced at Sara.  "Because I'm in love.  Because I want to get down on
my knees and worship her." I saw Sara's  eyes widen in surprise.
"So what exactly are you saying,  Hanna?"
I took a deep breath.  "I'm saying that I want you to train  Sara and then
I want to get down on my knees and submit to her.  I'm a slave at heart.  I
just realized it.  Maybe I had to meet my personal goddess  before I
realized it."
"Put her on the phone."
I handed the phone over.  "She wants to talk to  you."
Sara's part of the conversation consisted of "Yes, ma'am"  and "No, ma'am
" and it only lasted for a minute.  After she put the phone down she held
her arms out and I crawled into her lap.  She fondled me and told me that
she loved me, that I was the cutest  tomboy bitch she'd ever met.  She  went
down on me and it was incredible.  She teased me with her tongue until I was
begging her to let me  come.  When she finally brought me  to orgasm she
smiled and said, "You're mine now.  Or almost mine." Then we scampered
downstairs and were waiting, on our knees, when Carla let herself  in.
The summer was incredibly intense.  But first we had to get through my
graduation.  Carla and Sara both  attended, beaming like proud parents.  They
were the only one's who knew that all I had on, other than my robe,  was a
pair of sandals and my collar.  We had a dinner celebration that night and
then Sara's training  began.  At the same time, Carla  worked me, retraining
me, preparing me for the day when I'd go to Sara on my  belly and lick her
feet in submission and being my life as a  slave.
Sara's training lasted through the summer and beyond,  into October.  I'm
not sure if it  was just Carla's perfectionist ways or just that she enjoyed
having us both as  her slaves.  Having declared myself  a slave I couldn't
keep control of the bar.  I solved that problem by giving Sara and  Carla
30% each.  I kept the  remaining 40% but they were in control.  Being a sub
again, this time permanently, was surprisingly satisfying -  with no more
decisions to make, fewer worries, no  responsibilities.
Carla did have Sara waxed and I marveled at the beauty of  her bare cunt.
It was as perfect as the rest of her body.  But I wasn't allowed to touch
her until  she was trained and was ready to accept my submission.  Seeing her
every day, nude, and not  being able to touch her was pure agony.  Carla
worked her hard.  I  spent hours on my knees in the dungeon, watching Carla
put Sara through her  paces.  I watched her cry, heard her  scream, and
listened to her as she begged for mercy.  Once, Carla put Sara on her knees on a
large tray full of pebbles.  Sara  was trussed up tight and had a penis gag
in her mouth.  She endured it as long as she could and  then endured it for
hours more, tears streaming down her face, rocking from  side-to-side, and
trying to ease the torment.  Finally, unable to watch any longer, I  picked
Sara up and put her down on the floor.  My punishment was to replace her and
do  the remainder of her time - ninety minutes - and a full five hours of my
 own.
We went to the Cape in  August and spent two weeks in P-town.  We spent a
lot of time on the nude beach at Race Point.  Carla took us out at night,
leading us  in and out of bars on leashes.  We  wore sandals and sundresses,
nothing more.  Other than our collars, that is.  Carla used us both but we
were forbidden to have sex with each  other.  We never disobeyed.  We were both
too scared of what Carla  might do if she caught us.
Finally, on the 28th of October, Carla decided  that Sara was ready.
They spent the entire day away.  When they returned, Sara had a new  hairdo
and was wearing a new black dress.  She still had a nice tan so her legs
were bare.  She had a new pair of strappy sandals  that she'd bought to go
with the dress.  She looked elegant.  I'd  worked all day and I looked like
something the cat dragged in.  But, at 10:00 p.m.  Sara was seated in a chair
near the last  booth.  It was no longer my booth,  it belonged to her and
Carla.
I was wearing cutoff jeans and a tank top.  I took them off and crawled the
length  of the room on my belly.  About  fifty regular customers were
watching.  I slipped Sara's sandals off her feet and set them aside.  Then I
licked Sara's feet in abject  submission and begged her to accept me as her
slave.  She let me grovel until my humiliation  was complete.  Then she bent and
 grabbed a handful of hair and jerked my head up.  "Get your skinny little
ass down to the  dungeon and wait for me.  On your  belly, your hands laced
behind your neck.  You're going to scream tonight."
I whispered, "Yes, mistress." And then I crawled  away.  When I was far
enough away I  got up and ran.  She let me wait for  at least an hour.  And I
did  scream.  By morning I had my voice  was almost gone.  I was standing in
 the middle of the dungeon, the only thing keeping me from collapsing was
the  rope that was holding my hands above my head.  I was staring at the
floor in a  near-stupor, sweat streaming down my body.
Sara grabbed a handful of hair with her left hand and  lifted my head until
my eyes met hers.  She slid her right hand down across my belly and cupped
my vulva,  squeezing hard.  "This is mine.  You're mine.  I own this cunt
and this  body.  Nobody touches you but me and  you don't touch anybody
unless I order you to do so.  Do you  understand?'
I nodded and croaked, "Yes,  mistress."
She smiled and touched her lips to mine.  "If I so much as see you holding
hands  with someone I use the cane on you until you don't have an inch of
whole skin  left anywhere on your body.  Got  that?"
I shivered in terror.  "Yes, mistress." I was so scared I wet  myself.
She untied the rope and caught me over her shoulder as I  fell forward.
She carried me upstairs and put me down on the bed while  she filled a tub
with hot water and bubble bath.  Then she picked me up again and carried  me
into the bathroom.  She eased me  down into the tub and sat down beside it.
 She put a folded towel behind my neck and I drifted off to sleep.  When I
woke she was gently washing my  body with a bath sponge and liquid soap.
She shampooed my hair and then let the water out of the tub.  She stripped
while the water was running  out and then got in with me.  She  turned the
shower on and rinsed my hair.  When she was satisfied she turned the water off
and helped me out of the  tub.  I sat astride the toilet while  she dried my
hair.  Then she picked  me up and carried me to bed.  I  slept until one
p.m., cuddled up against her.
When I woke up she kissed me and got up to get a  strap-on.  She came back
and handed  me a jar of petroleum jelly.  I  stared at her in silence with
tears in my eyes.  Then, after a long moment, I got up on  my knees and
greased my anus.  Then  I lay back down with two pillows under my belly and
reached back to spread my  buttocks.  I stared at the wall  while she sodomized
me.  I had tears  running down my cheeks but they were from crying. I was
happy because my  personal, private goddess was using me for her own  pleasure.
I supported my weight on my forearms while she reamed my  ass.  After
several minutes she  stopped with the dildo almost out of my ass.  "Clench your
asshole and hold it in." I  obeyed with hesitation.  She looped  a velvet
cord around my neck and pulled it tight.  I stared the wall, offering no
resistance at all.  She tightened  the cord until my breath was cut off.  I was
starting to see spots when she slammed the dildo home with a  convulsive
thrust of her hips.  I  had the most intense fuckin' orgasm I'd ever
experienced!  She loosened the cord and pulled it  off.  I took a deep shuddering
breath.  She eased the dildo out of  my ass and stroked my buttocks.  "Good
girl.  I had to know if  you trusted me."
I turned and looked at her, whispered, "Of course I trust  you, mistress.
You own me." I turned and licked her knee.  She has the prettiest knees I'
ve ever  seen.  "I love you.  I worship you.  Do as you wish with me.  Just
let me serve  you."

The End.