lesbian d/s

Brie was a beautiful young girl, but here in a dark basement with a gag in her mouth, clamps on her nipples, a hook in her ass, and analgesic cream burning her bald pussy she didn’t feel very pretty.



Claire, her mistress, had left her here for an hour as punishment for pushing her in front of Brie’s friends. She bound her in this fashion and set it up so that Brie’s slightest movement would excite her anally, Claire was fucking her up the ass and wasn’t even in the room. Claire wasn’t always this proficient of a mistress; in fact she used to not be a mistress at all. Claire’s role was of Brie’s accidental design.



Brie, stuck in this compromised position allowed her mind to wander back to how this all got started, if for not other reason than to distract her from the Icy Hot Claire rubbed into her crotch.



Back when they were both eighteen (Note from the author; I realize that they were 18 in the previous chapter and this is a flashback, but due to a temporal rift in the space-time continuum created by age of consent laws and the short sightedness of the author they are both 18 and consenting adults in this chapter as well, for more information on temporal rifts in contemporary literature do an internet search on the term “retcon”), Brie and Claire’s mothers were good friends, so in their heads it only stood to reason that their daughter’s be good friends too. They had set up lunch dates as a foursome with stagnant conversations, and the occasional parlor game. But their unique ‘friendship’ was created one night when their mother’s decided they had to have a sleepover.



The moms went the Brie’s house and Brie and Claire were left to their own device in Claire’s house. Claire did her best to entertain her guest but Brie had no interest in the activities Claire was trying to push. Brie was a bit of bitch, and decided to knock Claire out of her comfort zone; little did she know this would be her down fall.



“Have you ever even kissed anyone?” Brie asked Claire with a smarmy tone, clearly trying to point out Claire’s inexperience. Claire had no real defense because it was true that she hadn’t even ever kissed anyone. Brie continued her teasing, “Why don’t you kiss me right now? At least then you can have at least tried it.”



Claire agreed, she was a shy girl, but Brie was goading her into it. The two kissed, Brie tried to add a bit of passion to it, but Claire kept her lips pursed, mostly from inexperience than prudishness. “What a little prude,” Brie said with a laugh, at which point Claire had had enough of her teasing and slapped her across the face.



Brie gasped surprised by the slap, but she couldn’t ignore the involuntary spasm of her vagina. She had never felt anything like that before, and she was desperate to feel it again. “I bet you won’t do that again!” Brie falsely protested offering her cheek to Claire.



Claire cocked her arm back, eager to defy this bully, but then it occurred to her, she saw right through Brie. “You liked that didn’t you?” she asked rather plainly.



“What? No, why… why would I like that?” Brie stammered her answer riddled with uncertainty and desperation to hide the truth.



Claire put her hand down and said “Take off your shirt,” in a strange tone of voice, it was somewhere between a question and an order. There was no inflection in her voice to suggest it was a question, but this was definitely a test and at that moment neither girl knew what the outcome would be.



Time froze in Claire’s bedroom for a moment, both girls looking at each other, neither moved a single muscle for a few seconds. When Claire’s expression didn’t change, Brie reached down with her hands and pulled her shirt over her head, taking it off, and offered it to Claire in her hand.



Claire reached out slowly and accepted the shirt, “now the bra,” she said in the same tone as before. Brie reached behind her back and undid the clasp of her bra and let it slide down her arms, revealing her bare breasts to Claire. Like the shirt she handed it to Claire who took it in her other hand.



Claire tossed Brie’s shirt and bra onto her made bed, and said in a sterner and surer voice, “the rest,” any semblance of a question was gone with those two words. In this moment Claire and Brie’s new roles had been defined.



Brie undid the button and fly of her jeans and pushed them down to her ankles before stepping out of them completely. She hooked her thumbs into her panties and brought them down as well, as she stepped out of them she kept them in her hand to give to Claire.



When Claire took her new submissive’s panties in her hand she pointed out the noticeable wet spot in the crotch of the garment. “You really like this don’t you?” Claire asked with a bit of a laugh.



Brie couldn’t meet her eyes; she looked at the ground and crossed her arms and said “I don’t know, I just, and I mean yeah, it’s kind of hot.” The reality of the situation was setting in as Brie realized she was completely nude standing before another girl who was completely dressed. She never felt more vulnerable, and yet never felt more right.



Claire didn’t know what to do next, but she knew she didn’t want to derail this train, she didn’t have much experience regarding anything sexual, so she had to shoot from the hip, but she knew she had to maintain the situation, if she played her cards just right this could be the beginning of something truly special that could last for years. She didn’t realize how right she was.



“Get on your knees, sit back on your feet, place your hands in your lap, and stay just like that unless I tell you to move., and don’t speak either” All hesitation was gone, from both girls. Brie didn’t miss a beat; she got down on her knees sat back on her feet and placed her hands in her lap without saying a word.



Claire went to her desk a retrieved a few items, she stood behind Brie and pulled the sitting girls hair back and put it into a pony tail with a scrunchy she had. Then she moved around the front of Brie and took a knee before her, as instructed, Brie said nothing. Claire produced two wooden clothes pins.



She placed one onto Brie’s left nipple, who winced and then released a pleasure filled moan. Claire did her best to not change her facial expression, despite being immensely intrigued by her reaction, and gave the right nipple the same treatment.



She stood and asked Brie, “Do you like that…” she paused for one second before adding “…slut?”



Brie took a breathe and said sheepishly, “Yes, Ma’am”



“Ma’am?” Claire thought to herself, she knew she had her. Claire lifted her leg and put her foot on Brie’s chest between her breasted and pushed her back. The blonde fell backwards right on her butt, the movement jostled the clothes pins on her nipples causing her to again moan pleasurably.



Claire continued, “Masturbate for me.”



Brie reached between her legs and began to aggressively pleasure herself, considering the circumstances it was not long before she came with a screaming orgasm.



The rest of that first night Claire played a few games with Brie’s body. She placed clothes pins in various locations on Brie’s body, she inserted various things in her vagina and anus going as far as to sodomize her with a fairly large cucumber from the kitchen, and with a vegetable jutting out of her asshole, Claire made Brie go down on her until she came three times.



By the time Brie’s mom came back to pick her up, both girls had redressed and agreed to not speak of this at school. Before Brie and her mom left she asked if it would be ok to sleep over next weekend.



In the coming weeks Claire did loads of research online about how to be a more effective mistress, and each weekend Brie was more than willing to be her submissive test subject. She ordered various sex toys off the internet, all which played a role in further debasing Brie.



At school, you’d never know these two girls even knew each other outside of the school. But when the weekend came it was the BDSM de jour.



One week in the summer between junior and senior year, their parents went out of town together, Claire had Brie make fists and then surrounded each hand in black electrical tape rendering her fingers and thumb useless before placing a dog collar on her and making Brie her puppy for five days, she even slept in a doggy crate.



Claire became an expert with ropes and knots, one of her favorites was to tie a rope around Brie’s waist and then feed two more through her crotch tying them to the waist rope at her belly button and the small of her back with special knots that tightened with each step, causing the course rope to dig deeper into the young girls pussy.



Through the course of two years there was no depravity that Claire could conjure that Brie wouldn’t submit to. High school graduation was in a month; both girls had applied to State U at Claire’s instruction. Claire’s intent was to have the two of them become roommates so that she could continue to have Brie submit to her, perhaps even to a greater degree.



Brie was hesitant to this arrangement, she enjoyed the submission now, but knew that the first semester would set the tone for the next for years, and wasn’t sure being Claire’s sub is what she wanted for her ‘college experience.’



Brie’s mind snapped back to her present predicament as the light returned and the basement door opened. She instinctively tried to look, but was immediately reprimanded by the rope attached to the hook in her ass.



“Silly slave, you think you’d learn by now, but I think you’ve suffered enough with this,” Claire came behind Brie’s bound body. She tugged Brie’s blond hair down creating the necessary slack to remove the bulbous end of the hook, Brie moaned into her gag as the widest part of bulb stretched her anus to its limits. Claire undid the knot from Brie’s hair and allowed her slave to look forward.



Claire brought with her a bucket of warm soapy water, and a rag. She tended to Brie’s pussy, washing away the remnant of whatever Icy Hot was left. Brie breathed a sign of relieve at the soothing action of the warm wash rag.



Claire removed Brie’s gag, who worked the action of her jaw a few times before saying “Thank you Mistress Claire.”



The nipple clamps were removed next, followed by the spreader bar at her ankles. Claire addressed her slave, “I think you’ve learned your lesson, It’s about time we temper some of this pain with pleasure, after all you deserve a reward for being such a good little submissive today and keeping quiet while I got my homework done.”



With a key, Claire reached up and undid one of Brie’s cuffs allowing her to bring her arms down. Brie was led to an old work out bench which was strategically positioned between two load bearing poles in the basement.



Brie lay on the bench on her back; her hands were recuffed under the bench. Claire set to work with her ropes. She tied one around Brie’s waist and one just above her breasts just below her shoulders. Both were to keep her from bucking wildly. She then tied one ankle to one pole and one to the other, effectively spreading Brie’s legs even wider than before. The bench too, was slightly too short, and Brie’s ass hung off the end, which made her ass cheeks spread with her legs. All of Brie was available to Claire in this position.



“Are you ready for your reward?” Claire asked as she turned to Brie now wearing a fairly large strap on dildo.



Brie took a deep breathe and exhaled an anticipatory “Yes mistress.”



To Be Concluded…

I entered my mistress’s room with my head lowered, eyes downcast. She was seated at her vanity, auburn hair pulled up so that delicate tendrils snaked about the pale curve of her neck. She acknowledged me with a green eyed glance, but did not rise.



I moved to stand behind the bench of the vanity, hands held before me. She did not glance at me. “Kneel.”



The wood floor creaked as I lowered my knees to it, maid skirt bunching beneath them. I stared at the small of her back, apprehensive, waiting. God. How many times had I done this now? How many times had I supplicated before her?



After that day in the dog kennel my Mistress took me regularly. She had Mrs. Wren assign me as maid of her rooms. The dog toy I found was a phallus of oiled leather over wood, and a strap could attach it to her waist in an obscene parody of masculinity. It became a favorite of hers.



On the floor she would take me, throw me down so I lay on my back, legs spread, or more often so that I faced away from her, arm extended so I could hold my lips apart for her. There was never any gentleness in it, only a swift thrust of her hips and a spike of pain as the phallus’s blunt head forced into me. She would clasp my hips, offering no respite, nails leaving crescent marks where they bit flesh. Or at times she would gather my hair like reins and force my head back, arching my spine, offering every inch of me to her.



Bitch, she would say in her cold voice that promised only truth, squeal for me, little cunt.



And I would. I would gasp and moan, her length filling me. Whore, she would spit, cunt.



I do not know why she took me so. It was not as if she was a man and could have taken any physical pleasure in it. No, if there was any pleasure in it for her it was in the sight of me pliant and gasping beneath her. Her little bitch dog.



She would stop after what felt like hours, long after the ache between my legs had deepened to the point where I knew I would barely be able to walk the next day. At times she would have me lap at her sex until she reached release with a groan and her fingers tight in my hair. Other times she would force me to kneel before her, order me to worship the phallus with my mouth, to lick away the taste of me and press my mouth so the phallus was forced against the back of my throat, her eyes contemptuous as I choked and spluttered.



Her skirts rustled as she pivoted, positioning her legs so I kneeled directly before her. She reached out a hand, ran the tip of her finger along my cheek. “Are you hungry, my pet?”



I did not dare nod. “Yes, mistress.”



The finger traced my lips. “For what?”



“You.” The words sickened me, but I had been well trained. “For you, mistress.”



The finger lingered on my lips for a moment, before sliding under my chin turning it upwards as her other hand pulled away her skirts to reveal the fork between her legs. “Show me.”



Her scent hit me as I lowered my head between her legs, cinnamon and sickening sweet, filled my nostrils. My tongue peeked out, fitting between the pink folds of her lips, and her taste was in my mouth.



“Fuck,” she whispered, heavy skirts muffling the sound, my nose pressed against the smooth flesh of her pubic bone as it ground in miniscule circles. “Fuck your little tongue in me, whore.”



A knock came from the door.



Her hips stopped, hand falling against the top of my head to force still the bob of my head. Her taste stayed on my tongue, still deep in her. Cool air caressed my face as her skirts lifted and she shoved my face away. I sprawled on the ground, elbows and palms touching ground. “Up,” she snapped, hands smoothing her skirts back into place, “get in the dresser.”



I rose to my feet, wiping the moisture from my chin with the side of a trembling hand, and scrambled for the dresser. I caught a quick glimpse of my mistress, an elegant figure, only the sheen of sweat on her neck giving evidence to her recent distress, before softly closing the dresser door shut.



The knock from the door came again, more insistent, and a moment later the creak of a hinge signaled it opening.



“Locking doors again, dear one?” The voice was strong a masculine, with the same arch tone as my mistress’s. I recognized it as master Heathcote’s.



“I was dressing.” My mistress’s voice was terse.



Though the dresser doors were snugly closed, a point of light gleamed through the keyhole. Slowly, so as not to be heard, I knelt and placed my eye against the keyhole.



“A pity you’ll have to undo your work.” Mr. Heathcote stood behind my mistress, his hands on her hips. He was a tall figure, handsome in a way that made the other maids giggle. He face was dipped toward the nape of my mistress’s neck, a cold, powerful smile on his lips. “It’s far past time I claimed my husbandly rights.” His mouth dipped to graze the curve of her neck. “It’s far past time I felt that tight cunt of yours again.”



My mistress’s voice was strained when she spoke. “I’m expected at an engagement.”



“Oh?” Mr. Heathcote’s hand slid up to grasp the back of my mistress’s hair, pull her head to the side so his mouth had access to the side of her neck. “That is unfortunate.”



His hands released their grip, and a gave a quick, firm push, my mistresses legs knocking against the baseboard of the bed as she doubled over, loose strands of hair thrown over her face. Her eyes flicked toward the dresser, but she made no protest as with quick, efficient movements Mr. Heathcote stripped away her clothing until she was left covered only by her corset.



My mistress’s eyes had closes to half lidded crescents, the edges of her mouth downturned in disgust. She remained stone still as Mr. Heathcote paused to admire his handiwork, the smile on his lips widening as he surveyed the bare curve of her shoulder and the roundness of her ass below him. His hands skimmed over ribs of her corset, moving up to grasp the firm, full globes pressed tight beneath it.



My breath had grown rapid against the cedar of the dresser door. I knew I should avert my gaze, this this was utterly improper to be witnessing, but I could not take my eye from the keyhole. To see my mistress, the woman who had dominated my existence for the last few weeks reduced to this…



“You really should not neglect your duties so.” My mistress flinched as his hand shot up to fist in her red hair, jerk her head so she was forced to look upward. His other hand nudged her legs apart before fumbling with the front of his trousers. “You know it only inflames me.”



A grimace cut my mistress’s face when Mr. Heathcote shoved into her, her body sliding forward on the bed from the force of the movement. His strokes came slow and deep, the faint sound of flesh smacking flesh ending each thrust. Our eyes met as his hand gathered my mistress’s red hair into a bundle and pulled back sharply, jerking her head back and arching her spin, forcing himself as far as he could into her. Shame and anger played across her face, eyes burning into mine, her teeth catching the edge of her lip as my mistress kept from crying out, mouth twisting in a grimace as she was pumped from behind like a common whore.



I watched rapt as she kept our gazes locked. His thrusts began to grow faster and he pushed her head down, forced it down into the sheets so he could gain every inch of her ass as he climaxed, a grunt tearing itself from his throat, the expression on his face half grimace and half sneer.



He shuddered a last time and was still, hand still forcing my mistress’s head down for a moment before pulling her back up towards him, head held like a limp mop, and growling something in her ear. He didn’t relinquish his grip as he pulled out of her and stepped back, forced her into a stumbling kneel before him.



“I seemed to have worked up a sweat.” His fist kept her head in a careless grip. Her eyes looked up through the fringe of her red hair, disgust boiling out of them. He made a tsking noise with his tongue and dragged her head to his half stiff erection. “You can hardly expect me to bathe.”



“I have expended my wifely duty.” My mistress’s voice was polite and cold.



Mr. Heathcote grinned and his hand brought her face down, touching the tip of his moist erection to my mistress’s chin. One of her eyelids twitched, but she made no move to resist. He trailed her face across the length of his erection, painting a wet trail along her cheek down to her mouth where he rubbed her closed lips up and down his length.



He laughed suddenly and let go of her head and stooped, cleaned his member with her fallen skirt before letting it drop and folding away his erection. His hand caught her chin, tilted her proud head up to face him. “Until next time, wife.” He said, grin laughing and merciless.



I backed away from the keyhole, the fabric of my mistress’s hanging dresses brushing my head. The door opened. Outlined against the sudden light was the hastily dressed figure of my mistress. “Get out.” She said, voice emotionless.



I stepped clumsily from the dresser, eyes lowered. “Mistress,” I began, “I…”



Her hand shot out, fisted in my hair and jerked it back. I whimpered, neck cramping and nearly lost my balance as I stumbled back. She kept me like that I long moment, so I knew I was utterly in her power, before leaning forward, hair tickling my ear.



“Our agreement is still in effect, whore.” Her voice was tight with emotion, fingers savagely fisted in my hair. “Speak of this and I will tear open your cunt and pucker so not even the most misshapen, disease ridden cock of a leper will want it.”



Something cracked in her voice and she pushed me away. “Get out.” She said soft. “Get out, cunt.”



I glanced at her quickly before stepping away towards the door. As I turned to close it, I saw her seat herself again at the vanity, red hair in disarray. I looked away and shut the door.

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