All parts of the sory can be found in the end
It had been a day of firsts for Slave Two. She had been abducted and transported to a place unknown, a strange sort of room, octagonally shaped and covered with mirrors which only seemed to compound her peril. No matter where she looked she saw her own reflection sometimes even repeated multiple times. She had been stripped and strung up by her wrists. Her legs had been obscenely spread. She wanted to cry out to her captors, but they had seen to that. They had forced a big bright red ball gag into her mouth.
Just when she expected to be be raped or beaten, two women dressed in pink latex had entered. And when they did the whole room turned pink. They had been hobbled in chains and their wrists had been cuffed in such away as to provide a degree of limited movement. They brushed out her tousled hair and put it into a pony tail. They carefully applied makeup, even lipstick and eye shadow. And then they shaved her pubic hair. Slave Two had tried to wrench her body away. She screamed in protest, but she was ignored. One of the girls simply grabbed Slave Two by her new pony tail and pulled her head back so far that all she could see was the ceiling. The pull had, in turn arched her whole torso forward obscenely, offering up her delta mound to the girl with the straight razor. And when they were done, the two latex girls hobbled out of the room.
Slave Two could not help but stare at her own predicament. No matter where she looked, the mirrors made her sex a focal point. Her lean torso and her long, lovely legs had created a cruel geometry. Like spokes on a wheel they all radiated inward to her hub, her loci, her own axis mundi. Much to her shame, her own labia had opened in her bondage, a pair of luscious nether lips, ready to receive whatever was to become her new fate. Slave Two looked away in horror, as if to deny her new reality. But, no matter where she looked all she could seen was her own skin, her own pink girl flesh. “No!” she cried to herself and closed her eyes tightly, hoping against hope that this was all some sort of bad dream, that maybe when she would open her beautiful big eyes again, this other reality, this nightmare, would go away.
“Slave Two! Wake up!” said a voice.
Slave Two’s eyes snapped open wide to see a rather diminutive woman dressed in black vinyl. She had a riding crop in her hand.
“You heard me,” She said as she began to caress the poor helpless girl’s breasts. “That’s your new name. That’s right, I said ‘Slave.’ It’s your new life. You live to serve me and me only. Call me Mistress X when you can.”
Mistress X had pressed her body against her slave’s, lifting a thigh up between the outstretched legs. The caresses had turned into groping, her hands roaming all over Two’s torso, cupping her ass and weighing her breasts almost as if they were a commodity at a fruit stand. Her breathing grew heavy. Spittle formed on her lips just before she kissed Two on and all around her ball gag. The smell of her sex began to fill the room.
Poor Slave Two! She had never been intimate with a woman before. She never even wanted to. The whole idea was repulsive. Just then a finger invaded her sex. It touched her clit and began to friction her. She fought hard at first, clenching her entire body in some sort of insane attempt to break free from her bonds. Another finger gently touched her nipples, coaxing them into hardness. Against her will, Slave Two grew moist. She was getting aroused. A wave of shame came over her. She began to blush, a deep body blush that turned her beet red from her head to her toes. And when she did, the room had changed too. Pink had turned to red and red was reflected ad infinitum.
“Some of my staff call this the examination room,” said Mistress X. “But I like to call it the Red Room. Take a good look, Slave Two. This room is you and all you. There is no modesty here, and no secrets between us girls.”
Slave Two had stopped struggling. She moaned into her gag. Her body began to undulate. Her hips began to push themselves into the deft hands of her new mistress. She was just beginning to reach her final throes of ecstasy. And then the hand stopped. Mistress X stood back and laughed.
“You got it all wrong, slave,” she said. “I don’t pleasure you. You pleasure me.”
X swung her crop through the air a couple of times. Then she spoke slowly each sentence punctuated with a couple of whip strikes: “These thighs belong to me XX. These hips belong to me XX. These breasts belong to me XX. This ass belongs to me XX. Even this cunt longs to me X. It is mine and mine alone X. And I will do with it as I please X.”
Slave Two had gone wild with pain, screaming into her gag, twisting and turning as best as should within her bonds. Her eyes had glazed over. She had entered a certain state of mind which Mistress X had often called “subspace.” At last, she calmed down and hung limply in place. All the life had gone out of her.
“And now I’m going to give you a lesson you will never forget,” said her mistress as she pierced the poor girl right through the clitoris.
Slave Two let out a series of blood curdling screams which reverberated against the mirrors. X passed a small gold clit ring through the hole as her new slave fainted dead away. Her skin had grown ashen. The blood had seemed to drain right out of her. Her work complete, X left the room and everything had turned white.
The entire story :
Showtime for Slave Six [female slavery]
Sheba’s Saddle [bondage, Ff, slavery]
Red Zebra [female slavery, lezdom]
The New Slave Five Redux [Slavery, abduction]
Slave One Brings Down the House [lezdom, forced]
Slave Love From Above [auction]
The Fuckable Slave Four [public play, lezdom]