Dependent

Chapter 7

Codes: F/f, Exhibition, Teen, D/s, Slavery, Humiliation, Consensual, Piss, Caning

“That was wonderful.”  Miss Summers complements me as she pushes her plate away and leans back on the couch.

“Thank you.”  I reply modestly.

Misss Summers was the last to finish eating.  Now that she has, I get up off my knees and begin taking the empty plates away.  I could tell Lisa and Michael were both staring at my tight butt and the fresh cane welts bisecting it.  Upon returning home, Ms Summers had found a long strand of auburn hair on the white couch.  She saw through my lies and conducted my daily punishment then and there.  She bent me over the arm of the couch and took a cane to my ass and thighs.  I had never been canned before, and the experience was quite bracing.  I had been reduced to tears almost immediately.  The knowledge that I deserved to be punished lent me strength.  I enjoyed feeling Ms Summers stroke her hands up and down my taut legs and ass between the biting impacts of the cane.  Each time the cane kissed my skin, I cursed myself for risking her displeasure.

I begin filling the sink with hot water.  My ass still smarts.  I am mindful of the raised, partially weeping sores.  I sink my hands in the near boiling water and wash my battered bottom.  If I am lucky, Miss Summers will put a movie on, and I can sit… no, better make that kneel on the floor, and watch it after I have finished washing the dishes.  It is perhaps the highlight of my day.

“Kylie.”  Miss Summers summons me.

“Yes Miss?”

“We need to talk.”

I hate those words.  I have always hated them.  If everything is good, there is nothing to talk about. 

I turn off the water faucets and walk around the counter dividing the kitchen and the living room.  I stand in front of the couch.  My hands are covered by oversized yellow gloves, and I hold them over my bald pussy. 

“Take those silly gloves off.  Now kneel down.  Rise up high on your knees.  Legs spread wide!” 

I follow each instruction, despite (or perhaps because of) the humiliation I feel.  I don’t know why I am so willing to expose myself shamefully like this.  What would my friends think of me?

“You have done well Kylie.  Michael and I have talked it over, and we would like you to stay with us permanently.”

I return a weak smile.  “I am happy to keep working here.”

“We don’t want you to stay on as our servant Kylie.  We want you to agree to be our slave.”

“Slave?”  My mouth gapes.  “Like a sex slave?”

Miss Summers smiles down at me.  “My my, aren’t you a horny little thing.  Yes, as our slave you will be required to serve us sexually whenever we choose, but you seem to enjoy that.”

“Will Mr Lain fuck me?”  I ask nervously.  I am not sure what I want to hear.

“Yes, eventually.  I’m sure in the fullness of time we will use you in any number of degrading and humiliating ways.  Being our slave will mean you will devote your days and nights to keeping us happy, always putting our needs ahead of your own.  You will be forbidden to own anything, and we will provide you with everything you need to serve us.  If you ever fail to please us, you will be punished.” 

I feel suddenly very exposed.  I hang my head in shame and raise my hands to cover my breasts.  “Why would I agree to something like that?”  I ask in a low voice.

Miss Summer’s face sobers.  She leans against the armrest of the couch and replies, “Honestly, I don’t know what makes a sub like you tick, but I know the idea is at least appealing to you; after all, you haven’t said no yet.”

“What’s a sub?”  I ask, not understanding her words.

“You are.  A sub is a submissive, someone who enjoys being dominated by others.”

“I am n……” 

“Knees wider!  Push those tities out!”  She barks at me.

I comply immediately.  It is not until my knees are spread obtusely and my chest is lifted proudly that I realize what I have done.

“Do you believe me now little pet?  This is the real you.”  She stretches forward a naked foot and brushes her toes against my smooth sex.  “I will pleasure you, and take pleasure from you.  I will care for you when you are sick, and punish you when you are bad.  I will be your lover, your mother and your mistress.  Pleasing me will be your first thought in the morning and the last.  I am offering you what you really want.  Are you brave enough to accept?”

Bravery, not exactly my strength.  Is this what I really want?  To be used and abused so meanly.  I would have thought this decision would have hours, or days, instead I had made my mind up in mere moments.

“I need you to promise me one thing.”

“Oh?”  Lisa asked, surprised that I would even be willing to negotiate. 

I struggle to put my chaotic thoughts and emotions into words.  I am unable to structure them quite to my satisfaction.  “… could you please… love me?”  Asking this actually felt more embarrassing then having my vagina stroked by Miss Summer’s chubby toes.

Miss Summers sits forward, perching on the edge of the couch.  “I will love you as I would love a cute kitten, or my most prized possession.”  She strokes my cheek, then lowers her hand to grope one of my breasts.  Her touch is loving, possessive and protective.  So long as I am hers, I will be safe.

“Then in that case I agree to be your slave.”  My eyes well up with tears, and despite myself I leap up into my owner’s arms.  I throw my arms around Miss Summers and she holds me against her bosom.  After a long healing hug, Miss Summers digs her fingers into my wounded rear and pulls me up onto her.  She rolls over and lays atop my naked body.

I do not struggle as she ravishes me.  The first time we had sex, I was too drunk on red wine to defend myself.  The second time she simply held me down with her superior size and strength.  This time I let her do with my as she would.  I am hers now.  Her hands roam across my virgin body.  I hope I please her.  I wish I found her more attractive, it would make things easier.

Later, I kneel on the carpet, still flushed with a freshly sexed glow.  Miss Summers sits on the couch.  She has cleaned herself up and wears an erotic looking negligee.  We both drink wine, and I can still taste her pussy on my lips.  I can still feel her juices drying on my unwashed face. 

I am confused when Mizs Summers lifts several pages of paper onto her lap and straightens them. 

“What are we doing?”  I whisper between sips of wine. 

“We have some paperwork to fill out pet.”  She replies.  I don’t mind being called pet.  It is a long way up from whore. 

“This is a bondage checklist.”  She begins.  “We will work through it and find out where you set your limits.”

“What do you mean by limits?”  I have looked at lots of porn, plenty of it BDSM related, but never really investigated the culture.

“Well, you let me know the things you really enjoy doing, the things you are indifferent to, the things you dislike but will do to please me, and the things you will simply not do.”  She finished, with a long breath.

“You mean I can say no to things?” 

“This isn’t ancient Rome, Kylie, but I would prefer you never say no.  What we are doing now is making sure I never put you in a position where you would want to say no.  Understand?”

I nod.

We begin going through the list, and it appears to be quite extensive.  Often I think I have answered a question only to have one or more exceedingly similar questions follow. 

“Are you willing to have your ankles restrained?” Miss Summers asks me.

“Tied up?”

“Or locked together, yes.”

“For how long?”

“I think here we should just indicate the activity in general, there are later questions concerning the duration of bondage and the location.  So do you consent to having your ankles bound?”

“Um, yes.”

“And as a rating from zero to five, how much would you say it turns you on?”

“Zero to five?”

Lisa sighs.  “I didn’t write this Kylie.  We start at zero as a turn-off, and five is incredibly aroused.”

“I think I might enjoy it.”

“I will make that a two, two is Like.”  Lisa marks the page.  “And how often would you like to have your ankles restrained.  Is it something you would only be willing to do occasionally or it is something you would like done to you all the time?”

“I’m not sure.”  I answer nervously.  I really do hate not knowing the answer to questions.

“That’s ok pet.  We both have a lot to learn.”  Miss Summer fills my half drunk wine glass. 

As we go through each item, Lisa probes into my sexual past.  I admit to some light self bondage.  I consent to arm sleeves and admit to be turned on by blind folds.  I have to ask what a body bag is, and shy away from any claustrophobic options.  The first difficult choice I face is breast bondage.

“Well?”  Miss Summers asks again.  “Do you think you would enjoy having your breasts tied up?”

“I think I would.”  I answer as I look down at my lovely breasts.  I know it can be extremely erotic looking.  “Does it hurt?”

“It can, but I don’t think it has to hurt too much.”

“Well ok, if it’s something you and Mr Lain really want, but I don’t think I want it to hurt too much.”

“Mmm, but hurting a little is ok?  I felt how wet you were after I canned your succulent ass.  You had better answer honestly when we get to the spanking questions.”

For some of the questions, even Miss Summers could not give me an adequate description.   Miss Summers is very insistent I consent to wearing hoods.  I'm not sure what types of hoods it means.  The thin shinny black type, I think it is latex, is very sexy.  I agreed to hoods so long as I can breathe easily.  Later I agreed to all manner of gags, including penis gags.  We agreed she will make sure my nostrils are always clear and unobstructed should my mouth by occupied by any person or object. 

I confided to Miss Summers how I had once filled my mouth with several pairs of my panties to pretend I had been gagged by a man who kidnapped me.  I frigged myself as I screamed into the panties while my parents slept.

I can’t keep the smile from my face when the subject of handcuffs arose.  My pussy gets wet just thinking about being cuffed.  I loved letting boys handcuff me with the little grey plastic handcuffs you get in show bags.  Maybe it was the attention.  When you handcuff someone, you acknowledge they are special. 

I have no practical experience with most of this, so I try to leave my options open, except for the asphyxiation stuff.  I reluctantly agree to let Miss Summers try genital bondage on me at least once.  Watching thin chains hanging from clamps biting into a woman’s labia can be terribly exciting, but I am worried it may be just too painful.  I realize Miss Summers was doing her best to get me drunk.  Probably a good idea.  Sober I would be too cautious to answer honestly. 

Wearing restraints under clothing in public is the next gash moistening question.  The idea of walking around in public with secret things hidden under my clothes, or in me, is just so incredibly hot.  I had walked around my house, and even eaten meals at the kitchen table with things shoved up my ass.  Ms Summers, intrigued by my attraction, insists on having me recount each dirty secret.

“Now some fetish questions.”

I thought we were doing fetish questions. 

“Are you aroused by heights?” Ms Summers continues.

“I’m fucking terrified by heights.”  Even talking about it made my wine glass shake in my hand.

“How about sex with amputees?”

I really did have to check if she was being serious.  “Do we know any amputees?”

“Would you have a problem with sucking the dick of a man in a wheelchair?”

“I guess not.”  I admit.  “He would probably appreciate it.”

“Do you think it would be more or less exciting?”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t know.”

She moves onto the next item.  “Sex with statues?”

“Bullshit!”  Now I know she is fucking with me.  I crawl over to her and check out the page.  I squint and let my drunken eyes focus.  “O m g.  That’s a real fetish?  Well, I… I don’t know.  Maybe…  How would that even work?”

“I will mark it as consent for now, but with little interest.”

“High heel fetish?”

Leaning against the couch, I look up into Ms Summers eyes and give her a guilty smile.  I nod.

“So you would enjoy wearing high heels or servicing me while I wear them?”

“Yes!”  I agree quickly.  “Either.  Both.”

“Hmm, looks like I will have to buy you a pair of sluty high heel shoes won’t I?”

“Yes Miss Summers.”  I smiled stupidly.  She is really going to buy me something.

“Call me Mistress please pet.”

“Yes Mistress.”  I feel a tingle as I say her new title.

“Bestiality.”  She moves on with the list.

I pause like a kangaroo in headlights.  I bite down hard on my left hand.  “No.  Please no.”

Lisa is sober, and actively reading my emotions.  She notices the indecision play across my face.

“Holy shit!  You are interested in it aren’t you?”

“I am.” I admit, even while shaking my head.  “But I really don’t want to do it.  Not ever.”

“Tell me, do you like watching a girl get mounted b a big furry dog? Or maybe sucking a dog’s dick? How excited does it make you?” 

I can’t say it.  I can’t even look at her.  I think my mother could have handled the lesbian porn, the interracial porn, the girls being caned or gangraped, but not the animal porn.  It was more than she could forgive, let alone accept.  I hold up a single hand, with all five fingers outstretched. 

“Ok.”  Lisa was surprised.  “So that’s a five for arousal, but what was the limit again?  A zero means you will not ever do it under any circumstances, a one means you are extremely unwilling to do it, and would only do it under the most strict orders.”

“Zero.”

“Are you sure?  Think about it.  I promise, if we make it a one, I will only ever make you do it if you deliberately disobey me, but this way it will be hanging over your head.  Isn’t that kind of exciting?”  Lisa is half guessing, not really understanding a submissive mindset, as she is not submissive in even the slightest way.  “Don’t you think it would make you a better slave?”

“I guess.”

“So it’s a one?”

I could just say no.  I should say no.  I will say no.  “Yes.”  Fuck.  Why did I just say that?  Did I do it to please her?  There is now way I would have said that sober.

“Ok this is good.  You are testing your limits.  Next up, asphyxiation.”

“No.  Hell no.  Next.”

“Ok.  Face slapping.  Well I know you have done that, and are willing to do it.  I’m also pretty sure you like it at least a little.”

“Well maybe, but only sort of… loving slaps when I am bad.  Just don’t hit me when you are angry.”  The bruises from some of her early slaps had only recently faded. 

“Fantasy abandonment?”

Even the thought of it made me get all weepy and causes my lower lip to wobble.

“Ok ok, that’s a no to fantasy abandonment.  I can make you suck a dog’s cock, but not pretend to leave you anywhere.”  She really didn’t understand the hit and miss nature of my answers. 

I’m not sure if it was the continued talk of abandonment, or the thought of sucking an animal’s dick, but I burst into tears, and Mistress Summers had to hold me gently and promise to look after me.  We were able to continue the checklist a few minutes later.

“Fantasy gang rape?”

“Fantasy like it isn’t real?”  I query

“Well it isn’t really rape because we set it up before hand and you are ok with it.”

“But it is real in that a bunch of men have sex with me at the same time?”

“Yes.”

“Ok.”

“Ok.” She agrees and then realizes she has ticked the wrong box.  “Ok?  You mean you are ok with that?”

I feel uncertain under her gaze.  I thought my answer would please her, not that I did it for her.

“Sure.”  I answer.  “I am a sex slave now.  Of course I am happy for a bunch of men to fuck me.”

Lisa is clearly shocked.  “You were always so worried about diseases or getting pregnant?”

“Well,” I explained.  “You will take care of me now, so I don’t have to worry, right?”

Mistress Summers thinks about what I said and nods.  “What a clever pet.”

“Ok fantasy rape?”

“Oh no that’s right out.”

Mistress looks at me, obviously confused, and I burst out laughing.  “I’m sorry Mistress, but those questions really should have been in the other way around, if only due to alphabetical order.”

“Yes, well I will mark you down for a ‘yes I want to held down and have my holes fucked hard all the time’.”

“Feathers and fur?”

“I have no idea what that means…”

“Me neither.”

Further down the list, dirty words and erotic dancing scored high.  To Mistress Summer’s surprise golden showers and being videotaped also scored high.”

“You would let people piss on you?”

“Do you want to piss on me?  Its not so bad, so long as it doesn’t get in your eye.”

“Have you ever let someone piss on you before?”

“No.” I reply. “Not someone else, but I have peed on myself while laying down in the bathtub.

“Have you ever drunk pee?”

“I used to drink my own while I masturbated, but only when I was bad.” 

Mistress Summers looks at me in a new light.  She must have thought she was corrupting me, when in truth, I was already there.  She drains her wine glass and stands.  Bunching up her black negligee carefully, she lets out a rich golden stream into the tall glass.  Droplets run down her legs and dripped onto her fingers.  The narrow glass fills quickly, and she has to clamp off the stream.

Lisa places the glass carefully on the table, but I surprised her when I surge forward.  I lick the yellow dribble running down the inside of her thigh.  I follow it up to the wet flower, which I lick and suck clean.  It takes so bad, and I am such a filthy slut for doing it.

Mistress has fallen back onto the couch.  When I look up to see if I have pleased her, she feeds me her piss soaked fingers.  I suck on them greedily.  She holds the glass up to my mouth, and drink.  She pours it in in small sips, unknowingly causing me to taste more of the foul acid.  It’s so much easier to take quick shots of piss, but this way can be more fun.  When I finish downing the glass I reach for the wine bottle. 

“No my pretty little whore.  I think you can sit there and enjoy the taste of me in your mouth.” 

I kneel back down, thrilled to have someone who will love me for who I am, and force upon me what I crave.

Continuing with the list, injections are out while catheters and enemas are both definitely in. Anything to do with the nose is out, except nostril hooks.  Speculums are a sometimes affair.

The pain checklist was next, and was harder for me.  I admit I enjoy the hair pulling, over the knee spanking and even the belting and canning (if done very lightly).  I agree to try nipple clamps and labial clips.  I surprise Mistress again with the sex checklist.  Pretty much everything is in.  Ass, cunt, mouth, flesh and plastic.  I want to feel wanted, I want to be used. 

We finish up by going over my house rules.  I am strictly forbidden from using anything without permission.  I will sit on the floor, eat off the floor and sleep on the floor unless instructed otherwise.  I wish wash myself with a pair of Mistress’ old panties and a bucket of water, and I will relieve myself in a bucket, without the luxury of toilet paper.  My food intake will be strictly controlled.  Until Mistress selects a good diet for me, that means semen and leftovers.

I try to sign something, but I can barely hold the pen in the right direction.  Before I can do more than mark the page, I feel the sudden need to hug the toilet bowl.  In the bathroom I do just that.  I hug the toilet and hurl scarlet chunks into it while Mistress sits next to me and holds me hair back. 

“You’re so good to me Mistress.”  I smile with specs of red covering my white teeth.

“I know.”  Lisa grimaces, avoiding my breath.  “But this is the very last time you will get to use the toilet.  From tomorrow, you will do your dirty business in the slave bucket.” 

“That’s so hot.”  I mumble, before the urge to retch takes me again.  I love wine, I wish it loved me.