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Subject: {ASSM} The Dyke Bar by Laura Lynn Davis, F/F/F M/F/F F/F/f Bnd
Date: Fri,  4 Jan 2002 18:10:07 -0500
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The Dyke Bar by Laura Lynn Davis, F/F/F M/F/F F/F/f Bnd
Copyright 2002

	I was a more than a little nervous as we entered the bar.  I'd never been 
in a lez bar before and this was a leather bar, not your run-of-the-mill lez 
hangout.  I wouldn't have been there if Sandy hadn't dared me.  She'd heard 
about the place from someone and was curious but she didn't want to go 
alone.  I'd refused and she'd dared me and here we were.

	It was eleven o'clock on a Friday night and the place was packed.  It 
wasn't a big place but there must have been nearly 150 women inside, mostly 
leatherdykes and their submissive girlfriends with a few wannabes here and 
there.  And a few tourists like Sandy and me.

	My name is Collen Fahey and I had just turned nineteen.  Sandy and I were 
sophomores at BU and had been best friends since kindergarten.  She'd always 
been more adventurous but this was way beyond anything we'd done before.  I 
glanced around the room and wondered what a nice Catholic girl like me was 
doing there.

	We fought our way to the bar and were served without a single question.  
Sandy ordered straight vodka for both of us and I felt the first sip burn 
its way down my throat.  We stood with our backs to the bar and chatted 
while we looked around.

	A big woman with broad shoulders walked past leading a slim little blonde 
on a leash.  The blonde was naked and the leash was attached to a chain that 
connected the rings hanging from each of her pert, pink nipples.  The 
blonde's wrists were cuffed behind her back.  I stared, fascinated.  The 
blonde glanced at me and winked.  I felt myself blushing as I quickly looked 
away.

		Sandy tossed her drink down and ordered another.  Then, before I could 
stop her, she picked it up and plunged into the crowd, leaving me alone at 
the bar.  I stayed where I was so she could find me again.

	A couple of minutes later I was confronted by a slender woman in her late 
twenties.  She was a couple of inches taller than me, about 5' 10", and had 
lustrous black hair cut very short.  Her skin was amber and her beautiful 
brown eyes were almond-shaped.  She was Asian, Japanese or Chinese, or 
possible Vietnamese.  I knew she wasn't Korean but that's all I knew for 
sure.  She was wearing leather pants and a leather vest over a white silk 
tank top.  Her bare arms were muscular but very feminine.

	When our eyes met she smiled and slapped me.  "A submissive never lifts her 
eyes to a top."

	I stared at her in shock for a moment and then I dropped my eyes and stared 
at her chest.  She chuckled.  "That's better.  What's your name, slut?"

	My head came up and I hissed, "My name is Colleen and I'm not a slut!"

	She grinned and slapped me again.  It wasn't a hard slap but it stung.  I 
took a swing at her and wound up on my knees with my arm twisted up behind 
my back.  She grabbed a handful of hair and pulled my head up.  "Are you 
going to be a good girl?"

	I ground my teeth together and nodded. "Yes."

	She slapped me again.  "Yes, mistress, is the proper answer, slut."

	I counted to five and whispered, "Yes, mistress."  She let me go and I got 
to my feet.  I was mad and scared and extremely excited!  She started to 
unbutton my shirt and when I pushed her hand away she slapped me again, this 
time very hard.  I stood there with tears streaming down my face while she 
unbuttoned my shirt all the way to my waist.

	She chuckled in delight when it became apparent that I wasn't wearing a 
bra.  I'm small on top, barely a b-cup, and rarely wear one when I'm not 
exercising or playing soccer.  She pulled my shirt open, exposing my 
breasts.  I blushed, embarrassed beyond belief.  She smiled.  "Beautiful 
tits."  She cupped them and teased my nipples erect with her thumbs.  "Are 
you owned by anyone?"

	I shook my head.  "No, mistress."  I was learning.

	She nodded but didn't say anything.  She continued to fondle my tits for a 
couple of minutes while I stared off into space.  Then I felt a tug as she 
unbuckled my belt.  She gave me a warning look as I tensed and stood there, 
not moving, while she unsnapped my jeans and pushed them down to my knees, 
taking my panties with them.  She stroked my buttocks and slipped on hand 
between my legs.  I was wet and her middle finger slid into my vagina 
without the slightest resistance.  She held her hand up a moment later.  Her 
middle finger was coated with juice from my wet cunt.

	She put her finger against my lips and I opened my mouth and tasted myself 
as I cleaned her finger with my tongue.  A few women watched my 
tranformation from an agressive college athlete to a docile sex slave.  Ten 
minutes later I was nude and collared but still standing in the same place 
at the bar.  My wrists were cuffed behind my back.  My new owner, Mari, 
fondled me as we waited for Sandy to return.

	When Sandy came back her eyes widened in surprise as she realized that I 
was naked.  She walked up to me and asked what was going on.  I nodded 
toward Mari and whispered, "Ask her."

	As Sandy turned, Mari backhanded her across the face.  "Get your clothes 
off and get down on your knees, slut."  Sandy stumbled backward, her face 
flaming.  I waited for her to explode.  Instead, I watched her strip and 
drop to her knees.  She licked Mari's boots in submission and was quickly 
collared and cuffed.

	An hour later we left the club through the back door.  We were still nude, 
collared and cuffed.  We had both been whipped and our butts were covered 
with welts.  We followed Mari to her van where we were placed in separate 
cages.  She took us back to her house, an old farmhouse out in the county, 
and transferred us to cages in the barn.

	Our training began first thing on Saturday morning.  On Monday, she drove 
us over to the university so we could withdraw.  She supervised as we wrote 
letters to our parents.  We told them that we wear taking a semester off to 
travel.  Which, in a way, was a true statement.  After six weeks of hard 
training, Mari took us to Hong Kong and sold us.  We went on the auction 
block together.  We were nude and oiled, collared and cuffed, and sold as a 
pair.  We're now owned by a Hong Kong businessman in his early forties.  He 
keeps us with him constantly.  By day we're his smartly dressed personal 
assistants.  By night, we're his nude fuck sluts.  His favorite thing is to 
fuck one of us in the ass while we're going down on the other.  Sandy hates 
taking cock in the ass but I enjoy it.  Especially when my tongue's buried 
in her hot, wet cunt.

	Six months later our master took us to another slave auction.  He sat in a 
comfortable chair and watched.  Sandy and I, both nude, were on our knees on 
either side of his chair.  After an hour we were surprised to see Mari walk 
out onto the platform leading a slender blonde who looked no more than 
fifteen.

	The blonde was slim and lovely and we urged our master to buy her.  "We 
need a tongue slut to keep us happy!"  He grumbled but he bought her.

	Then he smiled and said, "Watch closely."

	Mari was walking toward the steps at the back of the platform when she was 
grabbed by two attendants, stripped, and cuffed.  They led her back to the 
center of the platform where she stood, stunned, while she was sold.  Our 
master bought her.

	The blonde, Keegan, was only fifteen when she went onto the block.  We 
welcomed her with open arms.  Mari is our tongue slut and keeps all three of 
us happy.  It took us a week to break her but it was worth every moment.  
She's very good and her tongue is long and strong.  She's a well-behaved 
bitch.  She knows what will happen if she isn't.  We remind her occasionally 
by wondering aloud how long she could hang by her tongue before the weight 
of her body ripped it out by the roots.  Of course that would render her 
useless and she knows what that means too - a long ride in a speed boat 
while the cement hardens around her feet.

The End


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