Sheba’s Saddle [bondage, Ff, slavery]

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All parts of the story can be found in the end

 

Poor Slave Three was exhausted. She had just spent too much time kneeling with her back against a short post, her arms and elbows drawn behind and cuffed. Her ankles had been cuffed behind the post. The short chain which held them together had been raised high and fastened to a hook on the back side, effectively forcing all of her weight onto her knees; all save her head, which had been tipped as far back as her neck would allow and strapped to a leather pad on the top of the post.

A ring gag held her mouth open wide. But that wasn’t all. A rubber dildo which protruded from the post had been pushed deep into her ass forcing her torso to arch impossibly upward, lewdly displaying her breasts. Her nipples jiggled ever so slightly with each breath that she took. She could see her own image in the mirrored ceiling above, but from that angle she almost did not recognize herself. She seemed unreal, actually pathetic, nothing more than mouth and teats, a certain look of fear in eyes.

All of the slaves had heard of this device. Some had seen it before. They regarded it with fear and dread. It had its own name,“Sheba’s Saddle,” in honor of their mistress and its inventor. It was a dubious honor indeed. Sheba had loved to humiliate them, torture them, and even force herself on them. She did just that with a special passion too. Her slaves were her own entertainment. Slave Three, however, would be the first to be strapped into the saddle.

Sheba was a formidable woman, a six foot tall former weight lifter and body builder who would have been more than a match for any man her size. Sheba was tanned, toned, even chiseled; beautifully “butched out” as a few of her gay friends had observed.

She did not always look that way. She had been a chunky girl in high school. She was one of the many who no one ever seemed to notice. Her only talent was the shot put. She threw for the track team. It made her the brunt of many cruel jokes which had been directed at her size and her questionable sexual preference. In turn, Sheba had come to hate everyone in the whole school, especially the cheerleader types, not just because they mocked her, but also because she lusted after them. She wanted them desperately, but she knew she had to keep her feelings secret. She dared not approach them. And, worst of all, she dared not let her eyes wander in the locker room. Her own hatred grew unchecked, so much so that she hated herself too.

Her anger had led her into the weight room where she worked out every day. Her body fat had turned to muscle. And eventually, she would win fitness trophies, even become the subject of countless photo calls. She had become beautiful in her own way. Her tanned and oiled body graced the covers of many magazines. In turn, she capitalized, renaming herself after the legendary queen who was so beautiful that even the wisest men would kneel before her. She even had “Sheba” tattooed on her bulging left bicep which she often flashed before her admirers. It was an odd sort of a reincarnation, but Sheba had become a success.

But her personal life was still empty. She still wanted girls but knew they did not want her. One day she had something of an epiphany. She decided to invest her newly found fortunes into a new business. She would procure and sell the same kinds of girls that had rejected her; the fresh and the innocent, the ones who were (or could have been) the cheerleaders who had tormented her so.

Slavery would be more than just a living for Sheba. She did not need the money. Slavery would become her revenge. So she hired a couple of her male body builder friends and paid them well. They captured and kidnapped at will and they were very good. But Sheba did not really care for that part of the business. Her interests began with what happened after that. She would use them and break them in every possible way. And, when she was done, she would sell them off for a sizable sum. It took sometime for her to establish a solid clientele of rich and reprehensible people, but it was not really very difficult. It was a perfect plan and for the first time in her life, she was truly happy.

Sheba had made a concerted effort to dress Slave Three before fastening her in the saddle. She put her in a black satin garter belt which held up sheer black thigh high stockings which almost framed Three’s freshly shaved delta mound, making it even more prominent, more naked, if such a thing were possible. She had also strapped Slave Three’s feet into a pair of heels. She put her slave’s arms in full length opera gloves. Then she gave her a full makeup job, complete with lipstick, false eye lashes, a little blush around the cheeks, and some mascara. The coup de gras was the rouge on her nipples, carefully applied after massaging them to hardness. When Sheba had finished, she strapped Slave Three in and photographed her from all angles, humiliating her, objectifying her as if she was simply girl flesh and nothing more. Slave Three was young and fit. Her fatigue had come not from her extreme bondage, but from the ensuing session with the other three slave girls.

They had been directed to stand in line before the saddle. Each of them had been dressed the same: high heels, latex stockings and black lace garters, black choker collars, and black ball gags: nothing else, except for latex hoods. The hoods served a special purpose. The girls could see and breathe, but they had been rendered essentially faceless, as if they were no one and nothing, nothing except female bodies which existed only to serve the whims of their mistress. Their wrists were cuffed behind their backs and their ankles were hobbled with a similar set of cuffs.

“Slave Six, you’re first,” ordered Sheba as she marched the hapless girl over to the post, forcing her to straddle Slave Three. Sheba grabbed Six by the shoulders and forced her to bend slightly at the knees until her cunt was pressed hard against Three’s open mouth.

“Fuck her with your tongue,” Sheba ordered as she released the helpless girl. “Do it now!”

Slave Three obeyed immediately. She had never made love to a woman before, but she knew she had no choice..

“Oh,” moaned Six into her gag.

She stood up as soon as she felt the tongue touch her clitoris. The humiliation, the bondage, the forced sex, especially in front of the other girls, was altogether just too much for her. Six began to cry.

“Do it now!” Sheba ordered again. This time she swung a riding crop across Slave Six’s ass.

But Slave Six continued to hesitate. Her tears streamed down her cheeks and fell like rain on the upturned face of Three.

“Now! Now! Now!” Sheba commanded, swinging the crop three more times.

Still overcome with tears, Six was oblivious. Sheba called in the guards, easily two of the biggest men the girls had ever seen. She pulled the hood off of the desolate girl and grabbed her by the hair.

“This is Slave Six. She likes men. So take her out and fuck her. Fuck her in the cunt. Fuck her in the ass. Fuck her in the mouth. And if you feel like it, give her a good tit fuck too. Take your time. Have a ball, but don’t return her until she’s coated with cum. And I mean I want to cum everywhere. Don’t stop until she’s slimy with it.”

Slave Six let out a scream as the two men grabbed her and half carried her away.

“Slave Two, you’re next,” ordered Sheba.

Two hobbled over as quickly as she could and planted her sex right on Three without a moment’s hesitation. The two went to work, this time too afraid to do otherwise.

“I’m going to give you seven minutes,” Said Sheba, glancing at her watch. “Not a second more.”

Three pressed her tongue into service, working Two’s clit as best as she could. She did “around the world.” She “split the uprights,” played to and fro, and even did the old “in and out.” Two relaxed and opened herself up to pleasure, moaning loudly, almost as if to encourage her new lesbian lover.

“One minute,” announced Sheba.

The two redoubled their efforts, working together in perfect harmony. Three hummed into Two’s cunt while she began to rock herself back and forth over the eager mouth.

“Thirty seconds,” said Sheba.

Lost in the throes of orgasm, Slave Two began to quiver. Her thighs lost their strength and her knees buckled as waves of ecstasy swept over her lovely body. Three’s nose and mouth were enveloped in crotch and cunt. Her lungs grew desperate for air.

“Right on time,” observed Sheba with a wry smile. “Maybe girls aren’t such a bad thing after all.”

She pulled the still trembling slave off of Three and said, “Slave One, you’re next.”

One scrambled into place and placed her beautiful maw on the waiting lips of Three.

“This time six minutes,” Sheba said. Slave One had been Sheba’s first acquisition. She had the most experience. The goal would be possible but not easy.

Slave One wasted no time, moving her hips against Three’s lips as her tongue served the clit. Three moaned as One grew moist then wet another minute after. The two of them soon became lost in their cause. But Slave Three was beginning to get tired. Her tongue slowed down.

“One minute,” observed Sheba.

Slave One seized the initiative redoubled her efforts. She slid her hips forward and rubbed her clit hard against Three’s nose picking up speed and pressing down harder and harder until she began to cum.

“Good girl,” said Sheba as she gave One a playful pat on the ass.

Slave Three took a deep breath as One stood up. Her face was wet with girl juice. She was completely tongue tired. Two cunts in a row were just too much, especially for someone like her who never had practiced the fine art of making love to women. Three hated everything about it, but still she rested content knowing that she had saved herself twice from certain punishment.

And that was when the two men men returned a half faint, cum covered Slave Six to the room. Her face was soaked. Her cunt and ass dripped like a leaky faucet. Even her tits were coated, just as Sheba had requested. Sheba laughed as she reached for the latex hood and stretched it back over the poor girl’s head.

“The cum is not gonna dry until the hood comes off…and that won’t be anytime soon,” she observed. “From now on, I’m going to call you Cum Face.”

“Put her right here, boys,” She said pointing at the still obscenely opened but now sore mouth of Slave Three.

And so they did. Slave Three shuttered as the third cunt came to rest on her lips, this time dripping with semen. It smelled foul and tasted even worse. She nearly retched at the thought but steeled her courage to try just one more time. Slave Six began to cry again, this time in total defeat.

Three had no choice. She resolved to do everything she could to bring the broken girl off. This time, however, Three used her tongue gently. She did not hurry. This time whatever she did would be a heart felt effort to calm, soothe, and maybe even heal the poor distraught Six. Her ministrations began to work somehow on the tortured frightened Slave Six. She had stopped crying. She relaxed and began to undulate her hips, rocking herself slowly, timing her body perfectly to the motions of Three’s tongue.

“Oh,” This time she purred. Three took the sound as a subtle cue and quickened her pace ever so slightly.

“Oh,” Slave Six purred again. Three responded in kind, tonguing her faster and harder.

Slaves Six and Three had become more than a salacious side show. Their bodies responded to each other in a very intimate way. Words may have failed them in their bondage, but they were truly improvising and inventing a new language of their own. They were actually making love to each other. Everyone in the room could tell the difference. This time would have special meaning.

Sheba was the first to notice the difference. Like it or not, she had become the proverbial “odd man out.” She grew angry, but then again what could she do? She had forced them together and ordered them to make love. She grabbed the crop and smacked Slave Six hard on the ass, but Slave Six ignored her.

“Oh,” she moaned again through her gag louder than before.

“Hurry up,” ordered Sheba as she landed another stroke.

She cracked the whip again, this time on Three’s tits, but the slaves had found their own rhythm. Pain no longer mattered. They took their own sweet time and ignored Sheba. until at last they came together as one in a perfectly glorious simultaneous orgasm. Slave Six began to squirt in great quantities. She washed away all of the semen and all of the tears which had stained the face of her new lover. It was almost symbolic. Somehow or another, both had been made whole again. They were people, sexual people, and they were no longer numbers.

Sheba pulled the still cumming Slave Six away and used her great strength to throw her on the floor in front of the other girls. But this was an empty gesture. The other slaves knew what had just happened. She was losing face and she knew it. Quickly she removed her pants and panties. She backed up over the exhausted Slave Three, sat on her face and eased her own cunt over the tired waiting mouth.

The exhausted slave began her ministrations one last time. This time, however, her tongue had grown heavy and sluggish. Sheba struck her breasts with the whip.

“Come on slave. Don’t hold back!”

She struck again and again. Three’s breasts rolled and bounced on her chest, turning liquid under skin. Three screamed into Sheba’s cunt. Wracked by pain, her body twisted and jerked in place, insanely pulling with all of its might against the unyielding bonds which held her in place. And all the while, Three did her best to tongue her owner’s clit.

Sheba continued to swing the whip, changing up her strokes even aiming it directly into Three’s sex. Her struggles and screams grew more intense and even more desperate. But mercifully almost, they had another effect. It made Sheba cum. Her eyes rolled back into her head. She squeezed her massive thighs together hard, smothering the brave Slave Three. Then, finally satisfied, Sheba let out a grunt. That was the end of it.

She stood up and looked down at the tortured torso of her slave. Three was no longer conscious. Her beet red beaten skin had turned pale blue, but at least she was still breathing. Sheba swung the crop one last time, striking Three directly on her clit. Her body jumped and twisted and strained, but it was an unconscious reaction. Three would be terribly sore, but she would never know what hit her.

Sheba looked at the other girls. They were trembling. Their faces may have been obscured under the latex hoods, but there were plenty tears flowing.

“Now that’s how it’s done,” Sheba bragged as she stepped away. But it was a hollow victory. Everyone, including the great “queen” Sheba, knew better. The true, and blue, hero of Sheba’s Saddle was Slave Three.

 

The entire story :

Showtime for Slave Six [female slavery]

Red Room Redux [latex, slave]

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]

Command Performance [public humiliation]

Five on the Block [public, humiliation]

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