Fall from Grace, Part 7: Modesty-Lost {mf md mc humil spank} 
codes defined at http://www.asstr.org/~benwa/scfr.htm 

Author Note 1: This part contains many references to 
prior story parts. It may be confusing if you have 
not already read them. 

Author Note 2: This part was originally supposed to be titled 
"Hind-Virginity-Lost", but there were two problems. First, 
I just don't like that title. Second, it grew too big (that's 
getting to be a regular refrain:) and needed to be split. 
So "Hind-Virginity-Lost" is gone. It will be replaced 
by the new title for the next part, "BlackCherry-Lost". 

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DISCLAIMER: The following is a work of fiction and any resemblance 
between characters in this work and actual persons living or dead is 
entirely coincidental. This work contains scenes of explicit sex 
between adults and is intended for the entertainment of adults only. 
If you are offended by depictions of adult intercourse or if you are 
less than the age of majority in your jurisdiction then LEAVE NOW! 
Please do not read or download this file. Because this is a fantasy, 
characters in this work may engage in unprotected sex in a universe 
where AIDS and other sexually transmitted diseases do not exist. 
In reality sex without protection is unwise and nothing in this 
work should be taken as condoning such activity, or any of 
the other activities depicted herein. 

==================================================== 

Part 7: Modesty-Lost {mf md mc humil spank} 

Synopsis: Cathy begins her second week with Tom. 
Will it simply be a repeat or the first week or 
are there new surprises in store for our heroine? 

==================================================== 

A veil of sadness had descended on me when I realized our joyous 
weekend together had come to an end. Now the sadness is banished, 
thanks to Tom's sweet loving. I turn to kiss him tenderly and tell 
him, "Thank you for helping me through that. You always know how to 
make me feel better. In your arms, I feel safe, happy, and 
fulfilled. You're always there to care for me and protect me, 
even from my own silliness." 

Tom hugs me around my tits and replies, "My sweet princess should 
never be surprised at that. A marvelous person like you deserves to 
be happy and protected. You give so much in return to those who 
know the real you, especially to me. I have never felt so content, 
so much a man, so drawn to a woman, as when I am with you." 

He makes me feel secure enough to strip my masks off. I need to 
explain to this wonderful man how I truly feel, "I have turned my 
back on my old life although, as you wish, I pretend it still 
exists. My world has turned upside down. There are so many 
changes. It is frightening. Now I have only you to sustain me. I 
love you totally. I will say anything for you, do anything for 
you, be anything for you. I am what you choose to make me, slave, 
corrupter, princess, or goddess. Without you I would wither and 
die, but a girl also needs other girls. We share things in ways 
that men can't fully appreciate." 

Tom replies, "I understand your fears beautiful, but continue to 
trust me. I will guide you through all the emotional turmoils that 
are part of your training. I'll help you become a person who is 
secure in and proud of her new condition. I know you need other 
girls to share with. You told me how few kids your own age you 
ever felt close to." 

I purr as he places a string on kisses on my bare neck and shoulders 
and continues, "Now you have many new close girl friends, almost 
sisters. They feel you helped them open the way to a new, rich, 
rewarding part of their lives for which they secretly yearned for 
years. What they gained is so much more substantial to them then 
the unimportant things that were lost. You should never feel bad 
about your part in that process. Speak to Paula. Share your 
thoughts with her and you will see that I am correct. What you 
don't know is that you will be seeing your sisters again much sooner 
then any of you suspects, but that's all I can say for now." 

I hugged him and kissed him then reply, "Thank you my lord. You 
always help me see the good in every situation and make me feel 
better about myself. It will be hard to wait for that day I see 
Paula and the others again, but knowing that it will be soon makes 
it easier to deal with the end of our memorable canoe trip." 

I see he is ready to respond, but I continue quickly before I get 
too afraid to say what I must, speaking in the mode of a displeasing 
slave, "Master, your slave has one other thing she must confess to 
you. It is something important. This slave fears a time where she 
many not be able to follow her Masters commands. Your slave has 
told her Master that she would never willingly betray him and she 
spoke the truth. However, your slave fears the uncontrollable 
passions that have been unleashed by her training. They make your 
slave weak and may loosen her tongue. Your slave must reveal 
everything to her Master. You slave is unsure when her body is 
inflamed if she could resist another's touch. This slave remembers 
how helpless she was when others touched her about the campfire and 
on the hunt. She was prepared to do anything to be fucked. Please 
understand a slave's weakness. Help her to know how she can follow 
your command and never betray you despite her weakness." 

I find that I often speak using the third person when I'm scared Tom 
may be angry. He often seems to respond better. Not this time. 
Tom offers no comfort. His response is unyielding, "If you betray 
me or engage in intercourse without my permission then you will be 
disciplined without mercy. Let the fear of your Master's wrath be 
your defense. I will help you to better understand the reasons for 
that fear. Now I must take you home. While I drive there is another 
video for you to watch. Watch it all the way to the end." 
Despairing that any video can help me I know that I still 
must reply, "Yes, Master." 

First Tom replaces the Ben-wa balls and graduates me to the next 
bigger butt-plug. It's more then halfway to the biggest size. Then 
he gets dressed. I settle down to watch as Tom starts driving. As 
always, every bump in the road seems to make the Ben-wa balls dance, 
increasing my arousal. 

There are three main differences in this video. First, it's a 
home movie, not professional quality. Second, it's what I'd call 
hardcore bondage and discipline. It shows various girls being 
restrained while naked. They are tied, chained, and gagged in a 
wide variety of painful and humiliating positions. They are 
disciplined by means of whipping, spanking, dildoes, and verbal 
abuse for a variety of minor offenses. Bright red and white marks 
decorate every inch of their flesh. These scenes thus far mirror 
the most depraved and disgusting images of my dreams, but now it 
turns worse. 

The video shows a variety of female assistants helping their Master. 
What they do to their own sex is even worse then what he did. Yet, 
he is always in charge, directing their actions. Sometimes blood 
drips freely to the floor. Other times the assistants drink it while 
they bring themselves to orgasm. Some of the victims scream only in 
pain. Others seem to be aroused by the abuse. They are humiliated 
by shaving, urination, defecation, and being degraded in front of 
those closest to them. The are choked and drowned by means of 
thrusting their heads into toilet bowls until they pass out, or 
are they dead? Their captor or Master is unmoved by any amount 
of begging or pleading. 

For the first time in a week I completely forget about the Ben-wa 
balls when they're bouncing in my pussy. My fear escalates with 
every image then changes into blind panic. When the video ends I 
look into the small hanging mirror. The frenzied girl who looks 
back is literally as white as a sheet, shaking like a leaf, with a 
line of drool dripping from her lower lip. Perhaps I've forgotten 
to mention why this violent and disgusting video has such a 
devastating impact to me. 

Most people, including myself, have become blase about the horror 
stories reported daily in newspapers and on TV. It's because they 
are removed from us; happening to people far away that we never met; 
we convince ourselves those things can't affect us. That's the 
third and final difference in this video. You see in every scene the 
man who orchestrates the discipline and abuse of the defenseless 
women and a few men as well is unmistakably --- Tom. 

Never in my life have I felt such profound and overwhelming fear of 
another person. The man I loved hopelessly; the man I revered as a 
master of passion; was transformed by what I'd just seen. I had 
glimpsed his hidden strength and resolve, but I had never suspected 
that he was capable of a fraction of what the video had shown. As 
a Master of Pain he is an artist, a demi-god without peer. 

Our rough sex had been limited to some mild and arousing spanking. 
I know now that Tom had never even mildly disciplined me. Had I 
ever given him reason to? I never would dare to knowingly do so. 
For now, I knew what he was capable of. I no longer worried about 
my passion overcoming my honest desire not to betray him. Now the 
fear engendered by the images burned into my brain would always 
out-weigh any other consideration. 

What is most amazing to me are the contrasts and similarities. The 
man I knew projected love and caring. He hid his power and resolve 
behind a gregarious personality except when he gave a command that 
could not be disobeyed. There was no doubt in my mind that he was 
the person in the video. In addition to his face, the way he moved 
and the timber of his voice made that unmistakable. However, there 
were no other hints of the man I loved in the video. 

The Master in the video projected fear and dominance to both his 
victims and his female assistants. There were all treated with 
disdain; existing only to be punished for their misdeeds, or to 
serve his will. There wasn't the slight hint of caring, compassion 
or mercy. It was like there were two radically different and 
diametrically opposed people co-existing in the Tom's body. My 
love for the first was unaffected, but I prayed silently that I 
would never, ever meet this other, this unmerciful twin. 

Tom stopped just short of my house at our favorite hide away. He 
came back to me removing his clothes and the Ben-wa balls. I was 
still frozen by fear not knowing how to deal with these amazing 
revelations. He licked between my legs until I relaxed. I felt 
my passion rise as he continued, then my need. When I could stand 
it no longer I begged, "Master, please fuck your slave." 

He entered me slowly. Tom was as gently and considerate as he had 
ever been. I think silently, "I love him and I must be able to 
satisfy all his needs, even the most depraved. Otherwise, he will 
trade me for another slave like Desiree, who will. I would die if I 
lost him. I can't stand it. I need to learn enough to be the slave 
of a Prince of Pain." 

"Mmmmmmmmm", I purr as he touches me like a delicate flower. Up 
until now I dreamed of nothing else. How can I convince him that I 
need more? Not by lying, he will know. Not by disobedience, that's 
too dangerous. 

There's only one way I think silently, "I must convince myself that 
I don't deserve to be loved so tenderly. What have I done to 
deserve pain? Haven't I betrayed my parents, my friends? I know I 
am a bad girl with sick and evil dreams, a slut, a corrupter, and a 
drug pusher. Even worse, it makes me hot to think about those evil 
things. I cannot confess my sins, but I should pay penance. I must 
be punished." 

Now I'm ready. I know what I must do. "Hit me!" I plead, "Hurt 
me." 

Wack! "Ooowwww!" I cry out in pain as my ass explodes in pain. Wack! 
"Ooowwww!" I cry out again as the palm of Tom's hand strikes my 
other ass cheek. "Tell me why slave", he asks. Gasping from the 
pain I reply, "I'm a vile witch who needs to be punished, a slut, a 
corrupter." He says, "No you are a good slave who was obeying her 
Master and loves pleasing him with your body." 

"EEEEoooowwww," I scream as he presses a pressure point painfully 
then demands, "Now tell me the real reason." The pain is 
excruciating, I must tell my Master the entire truth. In tears, I 
confess, "Master forgive a slave for not telling you everything, I'm 
afraid of losing you to one of those girls in the video. You might 
trade me if I cannot do what they do. I'm ready to be trained for 
pain." 

Amazed at her words, Tom thinks silently, "What an incredible find 
this girl is. She instinctively knows what is required without 
being told. She does not need to be coerced, but is drawn to it by 
her own needs. Although she begs to be taught the sensuous arts of 
pain, she is not ready for true pain - yet." 

He shoves his cock to the hilt and stops moving so she will listen 
to him answer, "You are exquisite for your level of training. Do not 
seek to rush it. That is for me to determine. Obey if you wish me 
to keep you. Now finish pleasing me." I respond, "Yes Master, you 
will determine my training." 

As we continue to fuck, I'm incredibly turned on by imagining myself 
taking different roles in the video. I see myself a tortured victim 
whose tits are tied so tight they have turned purple. I scream as 
lacerating metal clamps are attached to my tortured nipples. Will my 
bladder also lose control when he passes electricity through the 
clamps? " Aaaaaaiii," I cry out cuming hard, but I need more. The 
images shift. Now I see myself as Tom's consort, feared by all; yet 
at his command. Will I be as aroused giving pain as receiving it? 

"Aaaaaaiii, Aaaaaaiii," I wail as two orgasms come almost together. 
The images become a blur. I lose count of how many times I climax. 
My cunt slaps against him again and again until I feel his hot spunk 
streaming into my belly. "AAAAAAAaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeee", I 
scream as it triggers the most powerful orgasm yet within me. 

I almost passed out on that one. I still see stars before my eyes. 
It takes me a long time to recover. Tom takes the opportunity to 
re-insert the Ben-wa balls. "Master, your slave needs to tell you 
something." He responds, "Go ahead, beautiful." I continue, "Your 
slave can't stop thinking about that video, it scares her to death 
and arouses her at the same time. She got so hot thinking about it 
when you were just fucking her." 

Tom ponders my words for a moment, looks deeply into my eyes, and 
says, "Beautiful Princess Now Passionate Slave will forget the last 
video except when it is needed." I repeat, "This passionate slave 
will forget the last video except when it is needed." I listen 
carefully to hear when that will be. Tom tells me, "Remember the 
video with enough fear to prevent you from succumbing to any 
temptation to betray either me or the secrets of the Gorean Society. 
All other times remember only images from the video without knowing 
the source. They will appear as erotic dreams that arouse you 
regardless which female role you take. You will never be able to 
communicate anything about the video to anyone." I reply, "Yes 
Master." 

Tom drives back to my house after saying, "I need some quiet to 
think about tomorrow." Her left hand begins gently massaging his 
cock through his pants in a way that is more relaxing then arousing. 
His right hand moves under my skirt as I spread my thighs to allow 
him to idly caress my naked pussy. He wouldn't explain why I am not 
allowed to wear panties beyond, "Can't see anything under that long 
skirt." 

- - - - - - 

So, Tom has a chance to think, "Cathy does not realize that most of 
the people in that video were being punished for violating the 
fundamental rules of the Gorean Society. I'm one of its primary 
local enforcers. I've trained for the position since I was 14. 
I'll eventually train Cathy in the ways of pain. How to receive it; 
and how to give it. How to use it, to arouse, to control, to create 
or to destroy. She has the potential to be truly marvelous. If she 
shows the aptitude, there is so much more I can teach her; perhaps 
to be a trainer herself. However, pain will work best as a gradual 
education not one that is rushed. Besides there are many other ways 
I plan to train her during the coming weeks. And many things she 
already knows that I planned to reinforce." 

To be honest with himself, "There are times I have enjoyed giving 
pain, but never for its own sake. Pain can create undreamed of 
heights of ecstasy or destroy a person mind. I try to use it as a 
scalpel, not a bludgeon." 

I retrieve my fingers to taste Cathy's sweet pussy then return it to 
between her warm lower lips. It might have been different I 
consider, "For Cathy, I do not wish to give pain except, as it is 
necessary for her training. She is too special, unlike any other 
female I've ever seen. Now fear instead of pain will guard her. 
She will be protected against succumbing to the very slave 
weaknesses for which she is being trained. This type of protection 
will not diminish her erotic compulsions, but will be 'activated' 
automatically at need." 

Tom questions his own motives, "Why is so important to that 
protection was given without subjecting Cathy to the extreme 
physical pain and humiliations she saw in the video. Am I allowing 
my undeniable attraction to interfere with my objectivity? Having 
admitted (at least to myself) my obsession with her, that must be 
guarded against. Besides excessive pain had a way of deadening the 
sensitivity to pleasure. I plan on continuing to increase her 
already dazzling sensitivity. I have yet to find her limits, but I 
sure am enjoying the search. Then using pleasure mixed with an 
appropriate amount of pain, I'll train her and mold her into the 
magnificent sex slave and supportive partner of my own secret 
dreams." 

Pulling into Cathy's parents' driveway Tom plots with a mischievous 
smile, "First though, a little teasing, perhaps a little humiliation 
would be appropriate. Emotional pain was not as effective as 
physical pain, but its effects lasted longer and there were other 
benefits." 

- - - - - - 

Tom's fingers in my twat gradually change from being comforting, 
to being arousing, to being agonizing. It's dark, just after eight 
o'clock, when Tom let's me out at my house. What I want to do is 
rush up to my room, jam my fingers between my legs and bring myself 
off. Instead, mom comes down to greet us. She wants to know all 
about my weekend, but I say there's still homework I have to finish 
before school tomorrow. I can't refuse when she invites Tom in, 
"just for a cup of coffee". 

When we enter the kitchen Tom says, "We never get to talk Mrs. 
Goodhead, why don't we let Cathy serve us." When he looks at me, I 
realize that this is not a request, but an order. Mom says, "That's 
so nice of you Tom. So tell me everything." Tom describes the last 
minute change of plans, what we ate, how the girls looked up to me. 
Mom chimes in, "Yes my Cathy has always set the standard of virtue 
for other girls." I think silently, "If only she knew what standard 
I really set." 

I finish serving and sit down across from Tom who continues, "Of 
course, our chaperones were very nice, and especially liked Cathy. 
They helped watch over everyone's virtue." I smirked silently, "Yes, 
they watched it crumble, orchestrating it fall, and used me as their 
instrument." 

Tom says, "Everyone had fun on the river. Of course, the rapids 
were the most exciting, but Cathy liked the calm water where we 
could rock the canoe back and forth. Isn't that right, Cathy?" I 
feel my pussy spasm with the memory of how I was impaled on Tom's 
thrusting cock while his thrusting made the canoe rock back and 
forth. 

Hiding the flush in my cheeks I respond, "Yes, except for that time 
you pushed me out of the canoe." Mom exclaimed, "Oh Tom, you bad 
boy." Tom smiles and says, "Well Cathy was complaining how hot she 
was, so I helped her cool off. I made it up to her though. Do you 
want to explain how I warmed you up again while everyone else 
watched?" 

I must be turning bright red thinking, "No, I don't want to tell my 
mom how you were screwing me naked in the middle of the river while 
our entire group was kidding me about what a slut I was." Mom tries 
to rescue me, "Oh Tom, I see you're teasing her. My, you are a 
little devil." 

"Oh!" I say, as I feel his bare foot moving up my leg, under my 
conservative skirt, along the inside of my thigh, to press against 
my pussy. Was this why he wouldn't allow me to wear panties into 
the house? If only mom knew just what kind of a devil Tom truly 
was, or how big a slut I was to allow him to begin to press his big 
toe into my already moistening slit. I spread my legs, allowing him 
to sink deeper within me. I bite my lip to suppress the moans that 
threaten to break free. 

Tom counters, "Not at all, Mrs. Goodhead, you didn't hear me mention 
how Cathy led our singing with her enchanting voice in several 
church hymns around the campfire. Everyone loved that. Of course, 
their eyes were riveted on Cathy just afterwards when she display 
many other talents. Would you like to tell your mom or shall I?" 

The images flashed through my mind, "Being revealed as a naked 
slave. Having everyone present push a finger up my cunt, see my 
pussy shaved, or drive me to orgasm with their tongues. All in order 
to release their own carnal lusts." I felt my pussy spasm around 
his toe. "Why was my Master doing this to me when I'm sitting at my 
own kitchen table in my parents house in front of my own mother?" I 
agonized. 

I can see the laughter sparkling in Tom's eye's. His toe in my 
pussy, now coated with my juices, continues its tantalizing massage. 
It's difficult to speak or even think. "Nooooo, please, Ma.", I 
chop myself off just before saying, "Master". How could I possible 
explain that kind of slip? 

"Oh Tom, now stop. Look what you're doing to my baby girl. She's 
all flushed." Exclaims mom then continues, "I'd better tell you 
about my canoeing trips." Both Tom's eyes and mine widen in 
surprise. He says, "Why Mrs. Goodhead, I had no idea. Cathy 
never mentioned it." 

"Well you see, I never told her." Begins mom, "Cathy always gets 
uncomfortable when I speak about my wild youth." Tom says, "Since 
we've been going out together, Cathy's become very receptive to new 
ideas. I'm sure it would be OK with her and I know that I'd love to 
hear it." 

At this point Tom had pushed my poor pussy close to orgasm. I can't 
spare any energy to speak. All of it is devoted to stopping my hips 
from thrusting wildly. I am barely able to nod my agreement. 

Once she sees that, mom begins her story, "It was when I was even 
younger then Cathy is now. My girlfriends and I had contests to see 
who'd wear the most daring clothes and who was best at teasing the 
boys. I was very competitive; always determined to win. I bought 
the skimpiest string bikini that I could find. The strip on bottom 
between my legs was described as 'dental floss'. On top, I was 
constantly in danger of popping out because I've always been so big 
there." 

"Ah," interrupts Tom, "So, that's where Cathy gets it from." Mom 
smiles and continues, "Yes, and 100% original equipment in both 
cases. Of course, that made it easier to tease the boys. I remember 
how my friends and I would dance. That never failed to make the 
boys want to take us aside so we could hug, kiss, and touch the way 
young people do." 

"What?!" I thought, "Did mom let boys touch her intimately the way 
Tom was touching me now? Stupid! She must if I'd been born, but 
even before she met dad? Whatever happened to the evils of 
pre-marital sex? Well, she'd always been very quiet when the 
Preacher lectured me. Perhaps I was wrong in assuming her silence 
meant agreement." 

Mom continued, "Well, I shouldn't talk too much about that. Don't 
want to be giving you young people too many ideas. I do remember my 
favorite game when we were camping. The entire group played it at 
night. We called it 'The Hunt'". 

"WHAT?!!!" I almost shouted and jumped halfway out of my seat. 
During "The Hunt" on the trip I just returned from 10 girls 
were raped, lost their virginity, and were taken as slaves. 
I was so stunned that the coffee I was sipping got pushed into 
my nose. I started coughing. "Are you alright dear?" asked 
mom innocently. "Fine mom, I just swallowed wrong." I fibbed, 
sitting back down. 

Tom's big toe popped out of my pussy when I jumped up. When I sit 
again he reposition it. Hot, oily, and slick with my own juices, 
his big toe comes to rest directly on my clit. The arousal that had 
receded for a moment returns stronger then ever. I look at him 
impotently. Lifting my hand to hide from my mom, I mouth the words, 
"No! Please stop." 

Ignoring my plea, Tom turns back to my mom. "That sounds 
interesting, Mrs. Goodhead. What was it like?" he asks while 
his toe begins a slow, galvanizing massage of my clit. I pray 
Mom doesn't notice how I suddenly stiffen or how my nails are 
digging into the palms of my hands. 

I think, "I'll try to focus on mom's reply to distract myself from 
the assault on my engorged clit. It's driving me insane with 
desire. I want to move. I need to press my clit against my 
attacker. I have to surrender to Tom. He's forcing me to submit 
like a slave, but no matter what I can't let mom see. The 
Preacher's wife will never tolerate this under her own roof. 
If she finds out what's happening, I'll be cast out right after 
I die of embarrassment." 

Mom recalls, "Well it was sort of like a treasure hunt. We split up 
into boy-girl teams. My team only needed one more thing to win. We 
went looking deep in the woods far from the others. I led the way 
so I could tease my partner by swaying my behind and letting him 
catch glimpses of my chest. I was really unmerciful. He was having 
difficulty keeping up with me because he was getting so excited, if 
you know what I mean." 

"Wow!" I thought, "Mom had been exactly the sort of "loose woman" 
that the Preacher was always railing against. She tempted men with 
her young voluptuous body. Was it 'like mother like daughter' as 
she had told me so many times before? I feel my pussy spasm. Or 
am I already a bigger slut then she every dreamed? I have to stop. 
This thinking is making me even hotter." 

Mom sighed then continued, "I probably wasn't watching where I was 
going, because I tripped over something and hit my head. I was 
stunned for a moment. He was bending over me looking very muscular 
and domineering. He was a line backer on the football team and had 
biceps like tree trunks. I felt a breeze and realized that I'd 
popped completely out of my bikini top. When I tried to cover 
myself I discovered that he had trapped both my hands above my head. 
He was so strong. I was completely helpless." 

Tom's toe on my burning clit is quickly pushing me towards an 
orgasm. I'm trying to hold back, but it's a battle I know that I'll 
lose. Mom's hot story is only making it worse. It was only last 
night that it was my tits that were exposed and it was I that was 
held helpless by strong male hands. My pussy is twitching 
continuously. I can feel my oils dripping down my thighs. 
This can't be happening, not in front of my own mother. My 
feeble control is slipping. How much longer can I hold out? 

I can't escape Tom's inciting touch. I try to shut out mom's story, 
but my mind seems to focus on every word. I imagine myself as the 
powerless half naked girl she describes, "He took advantage of me, 
doing unspeakable things. First I tried to resist, but there was 
nothing I could do against his dominant power. I gradually 
succumbed to his commanding presence, struggling less and less." My 
clit is vibrating with lust, teetering on the brink of a gigantic 
orgasm, needing but one more erotic image to push me over. Then I 
hear her say, "Until finally, I became an enthusiastic participant, 
fulfilling his every desire. We didn't rejoin the others until 
after the morning sun rose." 

That's it! I feel it coming. I must submit to my Master's 
domination. Unstoppable, my orgasm is rushing towards me. I submit 
utterly as Tom's slave; stiffening like a board as every nerve 
ending in my body explodes. A torrent of liquid is expelled from my 
cunt. Biting right through my lower lip, blood flows freely in my 
mouth. Somehow I manage to suppress the orgasmic scream trying to 
break free. 

The rest of the world disappears. I block out whatever else is 
said. That climatic moment extends for more then a minute. 
Alternating waves of fire and ice are wracking my trembling body. 
It's too much. I'm overloading. I'm going to pass out. Just then, 
it ends. 

"Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh," I hear as my lungs exhale every bit of 
trapped air. Then each and every tormented muscle in my body 
relaxes. I slump in the chair, completely spent, unable to even 
lift my head. 

My unconscious tells my conscious mind, "Insatiable Slut! That was 
the most amazing climax ever. It was a slave's orgasm and I had it 
right in front of my own mother. What a degenerate tramp I am. I 
loved it and I need to do it again, but for now I'm totally drained, 
totally sated. Will I ever be able to have multiple slave orgasms 
like that one? Tom says it's possible for me one day with more 
training." 

From a distance, I hear mom's voice, "Tom, Something's wrong with 
Cathy." He responds, "She must be more exhausted from our trip then 
I suspected. I'll just take Cathy up to her room and put her to 
bed." 

Mom sounds very pleased when she says, "Thank you Tom. I can see 
how well you look after all my Cathy's needs. You're just the 
perfect young man for her. I'll just clean up and wait down here 
until you're done with Cathy. Take your time." 

Tom answers, "That's very kind of you to say so Mrs. Goodhead. It 
probably will take a while until I'm done with Cathy. Please let me 
know if Preacher Goodhead returns before I'm done." 

Tom picks me up like a sack of potatoes. He tosses my limp body 
over his shoulder and carries me up the stairs to my room. Closing 
the door behind him he tosses me on my bed. He removes the Ben-Wa 
balls and puts a towel under my ass. He moves my inert limbs like a 
rag doll. One by one he begins stripping the garments from me. 

I can't focus on the moment. My mind begins to wander. 

- - - - - - 

In my lurid imagination, I conjure up one of my earliest obscene 
fantasies. Forbidden by my parents to see the man of my dreams, he 
arranges a secret rendezvous. I escape the smothering protection of 
the Preacher's house when they think I'm asleep, safe in my bed. 
Instead, our bodies entwine together as he touches me in unholy 
ways. While I let him worship my beauty with his lips and fingers he 
whispers, "I love you. Soon we will run away and I will marry you. 
We don't need to wait. Show me you truly love me." His touch makes 
me desire more, but I say, "I must wait until we are wed to have 
sex." 

Before things go too far, I break our embrace. I see how 
disappointed he is and try to make it better in other ways. When he 
offers me a drink, I finish it all. Soon, the room starts to spin 
and I feel a strange weakness in my limbs. "What's happening to 
me?" I ask as I lose all control of my muscles, falling to the 
floor. 

I'm fully aware, but unable to stop him, as he strips me and starts 
to touch me intimately. "Please don't do this," I plead in a voice 
that cannot rise above a whisper. Too late, I realize he must have 
secretly slipped me a date rape drug. It's difficult, but somehow I 
to resist his touch. I berate myself, "Why didn't I listen to my 
parents? Why did I flee the safety of my home?" 

Now we are both naked. He rubs his manhood against my slit. I feel 
something in the drug or my own carnal desires driving my body to be 
tray me. I refuse to acknowledge the growing desire within me. I'm 
doing it! 

Then he squeezes my breast painfully. It destroys my concentration. 
My suppressed arousal flares. "Ooooohhhh," I moan unable to hide my 
passion. My hips lift, pushing his manhood between my lower lips. 
My submission confirmed; his rape of my body, rendered helpless by 
drugs and desire begins. Soon like my mother in her story, the last 
of my resistance crumbles and I partake joyously. 

- - - - - - 

My eyes refocus, looking past the naked peaks of my tits to see Tom 
positioning his cock between my legs. I did not need to flee my 
parents' house. My assailant is here, in my own house, in my own 
room, on my own bed. Still drained from my earlier explosive 
orgasm, I can't do more then lay there. My pussy is still soaked and 
eager for the penetration I escaped before. I'm about to be 
violated in the one place I've always felt most secure, with my own 
mother right downstairs. "Oooooooooh," I sigh. The orgasmic 
aftershock ripples through me as his hard cock sinks into my hot 
cunt. I think, "Now I am even more his slave, he is taking me in my 
most private place. Now he possesses even this part of my soul. By 
taking me here as I lay incapable of resistance, it is transformed 
into a symbol of his domination and our lust." 

Tom starts fucking me in earnest. Will mom hear the bed creaking? 
Will she suspect what's happening to her baby girl right over her 
head? What if she opens the door and sees us? "Oooooooohhhhhhhhh," 
I moan as another aftershock strikes. 

He grabs my big rocking tits and whispers in my ear, "You're a very 
baaad girl. Baaad girls need to get fucked. I love to fuck baaad 
girls like you. You had a slave orgasm downstairs, didn't you my 
shameless slut? You're a hot bitch that cums even with her own mom 
watching. Do you think she knows what a tramp her daughter is? She 
will when she sees your chair is soaked with your cum juice." 

"Oooooooohhhhhhhhh," I moan as another aftershock strikes. He's rig 
ht! My mom will know what a tramp I am. I feel Tom changing to 
short strokes. He's close to cuming. Do you think she knows you're 
getting fucked right now? Do you think she hears the entire bed 
moving? Does she want me to fuck you? Did she give me your 
helpless body to me to take upstairs and fuck? Were you already my 
property before you ever submitted as a slave? Are you merely a 
female given as payment to seal an alliance?" 

Then he drives in all the way as his climax hits, 
"Aaarrrrrgggggggggggggghhhhhhh!" I feel his hot spunk shoot 
into my womb. "OOOOOOoohhhhHHHHH," I moan as that sets off 
a real orgasm, not just another aftershock. 

As we lay together with his shrinking cock still inside me he says, 
"Now I understand part of where your amazing sensitivity and 
sensuality come from. Did you hear how your mom was younger then 
Paula when she kept fucking her lover until the sun rose; or how he 
kept her naked for the rest of the trip? Did you hear how she 
begged to be fucked anytime he touched her tits or pussy; how she 
used her fingers to spread her twat to entice him; how they fucked 
regardless of who was watching; or how she likes it in the ass as 
much as in the cunt?" 

"What?!" I think, "I must have missed that part of the conversation 
just before I collapsed in the chair downstairs. I hadn't been 
taken in my ass yet. Mom was a bigger slut then me! And she 
began even younger." 

My thoughts are interrupted when Tom uncharacteristically pulls out 
quickly instead of cuddling more. It leaves me feeling empty. Our 
mixed cum drips onto the towel under me. He sits me up and puts on 
a bright yellow nightshirt on me. 

My thoughts are a jumble, "Does Tom even realize tonight's 
overwhelming emotional impact on me? Being taken on the bed I've 
had since I was a child? It magically merges all my earliest hopes 
and dreams with the reality of my fierce love and immeasurable need 
for him. All of the faith and trust I had as a little girl is now 
merged into my love and desire for Tom. He is at once the nefarious 
demon of my most depraved fantasies and the shining knight of my 
childhood dreams. Both are rescuing me from a loveless and 
passionless prison. He will carry me away from a threatened 
marriage to an evil king and bring me to a new world where we may 
build our futures together. He has released my dark fantasies and 
given them a vivid sensual reality that I'd never imagined 
possible." 

Finally, my voice returns and I whisper, "I love being your bad girl 
Tom. Did my mom really know you were going to fuck me?" He evades 
the question and says, "Between bedtime and morning you will either 
wear only this yellow nightshirt or the white one next to you, but 
you will sleep in the nude. Be sure to let the Preacher sees you 
wearing the nightshirts as often as possible. Accidentally display 
yourself and give him long hugs pressing your softness against him. 
Erotic dreams, princess. I'll see you tomorrow morning 6 A.M. 
outside. Wear the new bra I bought for you." 

With those words, he was gone. I heard him say good-night to my 
mom, the door closing, behind him, and the van taking him away from 
me. I felt the tears leaking from my eyes again. I wouldn't be 
waking up in his arms tonight. 

Eventually, strength comes back to my limbs. When I sit up the rest 
of our cum drains out of my pussy. I stagger into the hallway to go 
to the bathroom. When I am done I look at what Tom has given me to 
wear. It is sheer-mesh which clearly outlined my nipples. Two 
sizes too small, it clings to every curve. The outlined shape of my 
barely restrained, bra-less tits jiggles when I move. If the 
lighting is right then you could see the inverted-V of my crotch 
through the thin material. Since it ends about three inches under 
my crotch, it's bound to ride up showing my shaved pussy if I don't 
constantly re-adjust it. 

Across my rack is stenciled the words "BAD GIRL". I feel a sexual 
tingle down my spine. I love being Tom's "bad girl". I love when 
he calls me that, especially when I can feel his cock driving into 
my pussy as he says it. I remember what he whispered about mom, 
"She gave me to him as a payment to seal an alliance; like a 
princess given in marriage to merge two kingdoms. I am his property 
by her covenant as well as my own submission. She knows and 
approves that I am being fucked by him that I am his slave, subject 
to his will. I can't believe it, yet I do believe it. Can I ask 
her? No it's just too weird." 

As I leave the bathroom I practically run into the Preacher. He has 
just gotten home and is trying to get into the bathroom. I throw my 
arms around him, give him a kiss on the cheek, and say "I missed you 
daddy. Give me a hug." His arms go around me automatically. As my 
Master has commanded, I squash the softness of my oversized tits 
against him, rocking back and forth. It was something I'd done 1000 
times before, but this time it felt different, when he broke the hug 
I say, "Good night," and ran back to my room. Did he watch my ass? 
No, daddy would never "check me out". 

When I get back to my room, I remember to call Paula. I want to 
talk to another girl, to tell her what's been happening to me. I 
only get to say, "Hi Paula, its Cathy. How are you doing?" 

Then I listen to the happy hurricane that is Paula, "Oh Cathy it's 
so wonderful that you remembered to call. I'm so happy to hear your 
voice. I've been thinking a lot about you. Telling myself to be more 
like you, vibrant, sensuous, and ready for anything. We stayed home 
all day. Paul's kept me so busy. When we're not 'doing it', he's 
training me. His mom and dad both help since Paul is also new to a 
lot of what needs to be done. They gave me such a big warm welcome 
into their family. It's like having a second mom and dad. They're 
both very nice to me and very patient. And with Paul it's like 
everything I ever dreamed and more. He's so considerate and loving, 
yet commanding and masterful. I feel wonderful. For the first time 
I'm being treated like a woman, not a little girl. Everyone says I'm 
a natural and learning very quickly. Oh, I hear Paul coming back 
from the bathroom. He's going to test me on positions. I have to 
go. I'm sorry that I've been monopolizing the conversation. Next 
time you call I want to hear everything that been happening to you. 
Got to go. Love you big sis. Bye." 

"Bye little sis." I say as the line goes dead. After I put down the 
phone, I think, "I wish Paula was my real sister. It sounds like 
everything Tom told me was right again. Paula is happy and doing 
fine. If she is at all representative of the other girls from the 
canoe trip then I have nothing to feel guilty about. Actually, I'm 
jealous of Paula and the others. I shouldn't be, but I am. She 
gets to sleep in the same bed as her lover tonight. She gets to 
wake up feeling his arms surround her. I don't." 

I strip off my only garment, and slide nude between the sheets. I 
need to sleep, but my mind is too filled with erotic images, being 
fucked in the bed I've slept in since I was a child, being sold into 
slavery by my own mother, displaying my lush body to my dad, 
inflamed by the light of the blue moon to dance naked before men 
under the stars. One hand begins caressing my abundant tits. The 
other slithers down between my legs and caresses my mound. I know I 
won't be able to sleep until I bring myself off. My finger burrows 
into the hairless furrow until it finds my engorged clit. Lecherous 
images continue to assail me until. "Aaaaaaaaah, Aaaaaaaaah," I 
climax twice and my sated body finally slips into unconsciousness. 

My dreams are more disturbing and degrading then ever before. I am 
chained or tied not merely helplessly, but painfully, until I beg to 
be punished. The lash endlessly falls on my tender skin, making me 
cry out as I'm force to count off each blow. Each time I awaken, I 
am so aroused by my dreams of debauchery that that only masturbating 
again allows me to fall bask asleep. 

I feel rested despite my active night. Before I dress, I stop to 
look in the mirror to look for any physical changes. Of course, 
there's my collar and my shaved pussy. Does the girl looking back 
at me seem happier and more content? Perhaps, but besides that 
there's no hint of the enormous changes in my life. 

Outwardly, I'm still an 18-year-old maiden, same face, same wavy 
brunet hair reaching to my hips, a narrow-waisted 33-18-32 swimmer's 
body holding a modest 120 pounds that was mostly muscle. The 
shapeless clothes I wear on my 5'8" frame are anathema to a 
normal, attractive, college co-ed, especially a freshman, but 
they will soon be discarded. 

I get dressed like any other school day, but without panties. 
Underneath, my bountiful D-cup tits are airily encased in one of the 
new bras that Tom told me to use. It's a sheer-lace, lingerie-style, 
plunge bra with floral embroidery and triangle cups. Although I 
chose black, everything shows right through the material. The 
underwire was removed so I can maintain the appearance that nothing 
had changed since I lost my maidenhood just over a week ago. My mom 
may know the truth, especially after last night, but the Preacher 
must not be allowed to suspect the truth. 

Mom is waiting for me in the kitchen, but I only stop long enough to 
grab a breakfast pastry out of the refrigerator. I'm still to 
frightened to hear what she might say about last night's humiliating 
experience at the kitchen table. She blocks my way and says, "I can 
see you don't want to talk, but I have two things you need to know. 
First, I approve of Tom. I think he's the best thing that ever 
happened to you. Second, I know much more then you think about Tom. 
Be sure you never cross him. Never betray him and always try your 
best to do everything he asks even if you believe it is wrong. In 
the end, it will work out to your lasting benefit." I don't know 
what to make of mom's declarations, so I run out without saying a 
word. 

Once outside, I'm very aware of my jiggling tits. My bra has 
special reservoirs for each nipple so even when erect; they can't be 
seen through any shirt I wear. There's also an elastic-circle that 
pinches the nipple as if Tom held it firmly between his fingers. 
Those elastic-circles guarantee my nipples stay engorged and 
stimulated. My nipples have been getting steadily more aroused 
since I got dressed. Every time I move, little bolts of desire shoot 
into my body. I have to fight back the sensual fog that threatens 
to engulf my thoughts. 

My thoughts center on my huge hooters. Not so long ago I was 
ashamed of them; they made me a source of evil temptation. Now, I'm 
proud of my tits. All boys, especially Tom, seem drawn to them as 
if they were magnets. I never tire of how Tom is always trying to 
hold them or fondle them. 

He's helping me to lose my childish modesty. Now, it makes me hot 
to display my big boobies and to know people are looking at them. 
Soon I'll be changing into clothes to do just that. Tom always has 
me dress sexy, even lewdly when we're away from my house. That 
makes him and every other male that sees me want to use me. 

I should be reviewing my upcoming school week, but all I can think 
about is how much I want Tom's hard meat inside me. I need him to 
help me focus on school, on my goals, on my future career. Without 
him it's a struggle to think about anything but sex. 

I think silently, "I'm such a "baaad girl. My nasty little pussy is 
already hot and wet. It's in that condition most of the day every 
day now. That would have horrified the prudish virgin I was a week 
ago, but that girl now seems to be a different person in a different 
lifetime nearly forgotten. How silly I was last week to worry about 
becoming a slut. I need to be hot to please my lord and Master. 

He says, "An intelligent slave trains herself with her Master's 
guidance." Together we keep pushing my body to have stronger and 
stronger orgasms. Last night was the strongest ever. He says, "They 
are slave orgasms, only possible when I submit completely. A free 
woman is incapable of experiencing anything so intense." My pussy 
doesn't appear to have any limit to its capacity for loving." 

Part of the reason is the Ben-wa balls that stimulate me whenever I 
move, but I wonder if I'd behave the same if they were removed. I 
can feel the changes within me, screwing more just yesterday then 
some other girls my age do in a year. 

I think about my pussy constantly then shiver with pleasure at the 
thought that it is taking me over completely. That thought 
frightened me not so long ago; now I hope it may happen soon. Most 
everything about being Tom's sex slave appeals to me, the 
submissiveness, the slutty clothes, and of course the sex. My 
Master is gradually transforming me into an insatiable nymphomaniac. 
He's able to provide all the sex I need, but what happens if one day 
he can't? That's another scary thought. 

I continue doing my Klegal exercises. I've been doing them all 
morning since I woke up. In fact, I do them now almost 
continuously, even more when I have something in my pussy. If I'm 
going to keep the rest of my body in shape, you better bet that I'm 
going to keep something important like my pussy in top shape too. I 
want to develop a "snapping pussy" that can milk the seed right out 
of Tom's cock. 

I think about mom again, "I already know that Tom's the best thing 
that ever happened to me, but it's nice to hear it coming from my 
mom. Would she still feel that way if she knew everything? Did she 
know what Tom was doing to me under the table last night? Did she 
send me upstairs knowing I'd be fucked? Did she hear it being done 
and remain downstairs? Does she know that Tom is turning me into a 
slut. She was a bigger slut then I when she was even younger then 
I. What happened to her since then? She obviously adored sex like 
me back then." 

I only know that now I don't have to feel guilty all the time. I 
don't have to hold anything back. Didn't mom basically just tell me 
to be Tom's sex slave? She said, 'to do everything he asks even if 
I believe it is wrong", to obey, to be submissive. 

That only reinforces what I already know, "If I want to stay with 
Tom, there's only one way to do it - as his slave. As a slave, I 
must obey his commands, no matter how distasteful, no matter how 
perverted, no matter how illegal, no matter what. I don't believe 
he'd ever tell me to do anything without a good reason and with my 
welfare foremost in his mind. In any case, not only am I determined 
to obey, but also I'll find a way to enjoy it and turn it into a new 
sensuous experience. I refuse to be a passive victim. I'm 
determined to be an energetic partner. I'll use all my resources to 
find the best, fastest ways to become his perfect slave. And if mom 
complains then I'll remind her about that nasty story." 

Suddenly, I had this hot idea that made my pussy juices flow. I ran 
back up to my room and took out a white V-neck T-shirt and old pair 
of shorts. I cut off the bottom half of the T-shirt so that it 
would show off my belly and cut from the neck to three inches above 
the new bottom to show off my shoulders. My tits, especially my 
nipples will be clearly outlined by the thin material. However, it 
should be OK if I'm wearing this bra or one like it. 

I'd grown out of the thin red material of the shorts about two years 
ago. The waist was still OK, but it was too tight for my hips. 
First I cut slits on both sides from the bottom to the waistband. I 
cut off the material on both sides of the crotch, leaving only a 
narrow strip. With my new shaved pussy I should be OK. Finally, I 
cut the legs off so that no part of the shorts was below the crotch 
strip. I folded it up and ran back downstairs just as Tom was 
pulling up to the house. 

As soon as the mini-van stops I jump in. Before Tom has a chance to 
say anything, I pull him to me for a deep French kiss. The Preacher 
left before I woke up this morning. After last night, I don't care 
if mom sees me. "Hummmmm," moans Tom into my mouth when I find his 
cock and begin stroking it. Pressing my tits against him, I reach 
down to unzip his fly. 

Tom pulls me away asking, "Woah girl, that's the best hello I've 
gotten all week, but don't you want your present?" I resume 
stroking Tom's hard cock and say, "Of course, you know how much I 
love presents, but I don't want to wait too long before you unwrap 
your present, my hot nasty pussy." 

Just like last week, Tom produces a beautiful red rose. He hands it 
to me and I take a deep breath of its sweet fragrance as he says, "A 
beautiful rose for a beautiful princess." 

I half expected it, but I love it just the same. It makes me 
remember all the loving, caring things Tom said. Needing to hear 
them once more I wheedle, "Tell me again why you want me." 

Tom takes the respite from my earlier attack to start driving. He 
answers, "Of course I love your sexy body, your sensuality, my bad 
girl's insatiable pussy, and how she's takes more joy in her slavery 
every day. Yet, you're so much more to me, your vitality, sweetness, 
intelligence, boldness, tenderness, and your giving nature are all 
precious to me. Last weekend you showed yourself to be a natural 
dancer, a natural teacher, and a natural leader. Everyone tuned 
into you without even being aware of it. You made helped them to 
accomplish goals that they barely admitted to themselves, let alone 
thought were possible to achieve." 

I drink in every word, knowing he means every syllable. It gives me 
a warm feeling that he truly cares for me, perhaps even loves me, 
although he carefully avoids that word. I see myself as a better 
person through his eyes. When I am with Tom, I believe anything is 
possible. My hands are not idle while he speaks. I fish out his 
hard cock. It's heat sinking into my palm. I say, "You make me feel 
wonderful, here's my thank you." My mouth engulfs his manhood and I 
begin to suck him like a lollypop. I want to get it ready to plunge 
into my empty pussy and fill me with his seed. 

We race to the bed in back as soon as he stops the van. I only win 
because he pauses to set the car break. We strip off our clothes. 
I tackle him while his shirt is only halfway off, still covering his 
face. "Aaaaaaaaaaaah," I sighed, pushing his cock into me after I 
straddled his torso. 

Tom finishes pulling off his shirt and we wrestle for the top 
position. His upper body strength easily wins, but then I use my 
developing pussy muscles. They clamp down on his hardness and begin 
milking his cock. That distracts him, enabling me to roll back on 
top. I crow my triumph like I'm in fourth-grade again, "Girls rule, 
boys drool!" 

My triumph, although glorious, is short lived. I can't hope to win 
against Tom's focused strength. He traps both wrists in one hand. 
Without any leverage, he slowly forces me on my back. First one 
knee is pressed backwards against my tits, then the other. Now bent 
over double, I'm pinned to the mattress by his driving cock. 

I'm not done yet. I tease him in my sweetest little girl voice, "Oh 
it's too big to go in there. Please don't rape me. Let a poor 
helpless girl go. I won't tell anyone. It's not my fault I was 
born with big tits and soft skin. Oh I never felt so full. You're 
forcing me to feel bad things. Please stop. I can't resist. 
You're forcing me to want you." 

I wait a few seconds then resume, "Ohh, I feel you who cock. It's 
sooo big. I have to move. I can't resist you. I am only a weak 
girl forced to feel a woman's passions. Aahh, I submit to your 
power. Aahh, make me yours. Aahh, harder, faster, Aahh." 

My game is working, not just on him, but as me as well. My lust 
takes command of my body. My hips rise to meet his thrusts. My 
legs press against him to feel his hot skin against mine. My feet 
wrap around his ass trying to draw him closer, deeper. My cunt 
grips his marvelous cock 

He's pounding into me like a demon. "Oooooooooohhhhh," I moan as the 
first orgasm strikes. I feel a second one just behind and plead, 
"Fuck meeee. Fuck your baaad girl. Ream my nasty pussy." 

"Oooooooooohhhhh, Oooooooooohhhhh," I cry from not one, but two 
back-to-back orgasms. They fry my brain, transforming me into a 
needy cunt that can only think of stuffing more of the hot hardness 
into me. "Oooooooooohhhhh, Oooooooooohhhhh," I wail. Losing track 
of how many times I climax. 

The constant tremors wracking my flesh slow to a stop. They are 
replaced by a growing awareness of an unstoppable force build deep 
within my loins. It fiery power grows every stronger burning 
outward, easily destroying my weak attempts to resist its might. 
I'm frightened by the intensity, but cannot escape the overwhelming 
power. "EEEEEEEEeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiihhhhhhhhoooooooo", I scream as 
the volcanic power of my next slave orgasm erupts. 

Like last night, I'm entirely drained by the incredible power of my 
slave orgasm. Tom arranges my limbs like a rag doll. Keeping my 
legs raised, he pushes two pillows under my ass so that his precious 
sperm does not escape my pussy when he pulls out. I'm too weak to 
do my Klegal exercises. Instead Tom and I cuddle. It's one of my 
favorite times of the day. 

Now that my ever-horny body is temporarily sated, Tom helps me focus 
on planning my school day, makes sure that all our assignments are 
on schedule, and plan on what to do for lunch. 

After 30-minutes, Tom places a towel under my cunt. I'm no longer 
amazed at all the cum that pours out of me onto the towel when I sit 
up. After I finish drying off my slit, I say, "Please close your 
eyes, I have a nice surprise for you." Tom kisses me and teases, 
"OK, but I don't think I have the energy to fend off another attack 
by your pretty pussy." I respond, "I never complain about your 
energy. You have plenty to keep my pussy happy. Don't worry, it's 
not that kind of surprise." 

As Tom closes his eyes, and says, "Well I'm opening my eyes at 30, 
1. 2. 3." I pull out my hastily prepared outfit and begin to quickly 
put it on. Right away I see there's a problem. Forgetting about 
how the bra I was wearing at the time lifts my tits, I cut the 
T-shirt too far. No matter how I pull down, the bottom of my boobs 
stays visible. Regardless, the outline of my nipples can be seen 
through the fabric. I hear Tom count, "15. 16. 17." I hurry to put 
on the cut-off shorts. 

"28. 29.", says Tom as I strike a pose, putting my hands behind my 
head. That emphasizes my impressive rack even more. "30." Finishes 
Tom, opening his eyes to view his surprise. I'm rewarded with a big 
smile. He declares, "I love it, especially the top." I preen in 
pleasure and reply, "The way you love my tits, I knew you would. I 
did it in less then 5 minutes." 

He says, "Really, if you could do that in just 5 minutes, perhaps we 
should have you become a fashion designer." I ask, "Are you teasing 
me?" He replies, "Not at all. There's an underground market for 
slave clothing. With more time and materials you could do much more 
elaborate designs. As for your first design, let's make a few 
finishing touches." 

He takes out a scissors and begins cutting the material even though 
I'm still wearing the red shorts. I try to relax remembering, "This 
is the man who shaved my pussy with a straight razor. I can rely on 
him if I only move as he instructs. I feel the cool metal of the 
scissors against my skin. I'm so baaad, the feeling is turning me 
on again." I flip over when Tom wants access to my backside side. 
The danger of being cut and the feeling of increasing exposure as 
more of the material is cut away arouse me further." 

When he's done, the shorts look more like a string bikini. The 
strip between my legs now reveals more of my crotch. It's barely 
sufficient to cover my labia when my legs are held normally. If I 
spread my thighs wide then the strip will disappear into my slit. 
Much of the lower half of my ass is also on display. If I bend 
over, I'm sure the view from behind will stop traffic. 

"Now get out of that," Tom commands, " We'll use it tomorrow. I 
have a different outfit for you today." With some disappointment, I 
obey my Master. I reinsert the Ben-wa balls and put on the clothes 
as Tom hands them to me. It's not as revealing. However, in it's 
own way this outfit is more exciting then the last one. 

I'm wearing the same black bra under a see-through, buttoned-down, 
white shirt, without the buttons. I could try to tuck the ends into 
my skirt, but Tom ties the ends together. That only highlights my 
bra and tits. 

The skirt he gives me is the shortest one I own. Tom says, "I want 
to show off your long, beautiful legs." It's navy blue and ends 
just below my crotch. Anyone who cares to make the effort will see 
how they frame and highlight my red-satin panties. If I bend over 
then it will ride up so that no effort at all is needed. 

"Do you like it?" Tom asks. "Of course," I answer, "You know it 
makes me hot to display my body. This outfit does that and more 
without being lewd enough to get me arrested." 

Getting into the front seats, Tom starts driving. My left hand 
automatically moves to rest on his cock, giving it a massage more 
relaxing then arousing. His right hand automatically moves between 
my legs that are already spread apart. He moves aside the narrow 
band of material and begins to absentmindedly caress my slit. It's 
already becoming a habit for both of us, like leaning on an 
arm-rest. 

It's the bumps in the road that not only cause the Ben-wa balls keep 
shifting, but my tits to bounce in my new bra. Combined with the 
middle finger pushing into my pussy, I'm having trouble controlling 
my arousal. Tom parks a minute later, he locks the van after we're 
both outside. Just before he has to rush off, I'm told, "Remember 
slave, only I may remove the bra except when you change for 
swimming." 

It's the first time in a week that Tom has permitted me to wear both 
panties and a bra outside my house. It's not until we part that I 
realize the full extent of his evil plan. First the bright 
red-satin panties not only keep the Ben-Wa balls inside my pussy, 
they are guaranteed to be noticed under my ultra-short skirt. 

Then there's the Ben-Wa balls themselves. By the end of last week, 
when I wasn't permitted a bra, I'd worked ceaselessly to manage the 
arousal caused by the constant stimulation from the Ben-wa balls. 
Finally, on Thursday afternoon, I'd succeeded. 

I resisted the immediate need to masturbate by shifting my arousal 
to a special place deep inside of me. It built up there. Of course, 
when it was finally released, I was more helpless, more submissive, 
more desperate, and more passionate then ever. That's what caused 
the first of my slave orgasms. 

Now, I had the Ben-wa balls plus the feeling of everyone's eyes on 
my scantily clad body. Worst of all are my wicked nipples. Every 
time I move, the little rubber bra rings pinching them arouse me 
more. My nipples have always been super-sensitive. I've lost count 
of how many boys had rendered me helpless and compliant simply by 
caressing them. Tom could easily bring me orgasm touching nothing 
but my boobies. 

Why is the effect so strong? I've never heard of another girl my 
age that is stimulated so easily. They may get aroused, but not to 
the point of "losing it". It must be what mom used to say, "You're 
like me Cathy. Our breasts are unnaturally sensitive and 
susceptible to any stimulation. That makes us luckier then other 
women. We can get so much more pleasure from being touched." 

Why isn't what worked last week working now? I can't I displace my 
arousal to that special place deep inside of me? Is it because of 
the extra source of stimulation? I'm not sure, but it doesn't 
matter. It's not working. 

My first class is in five minutes. I know better then to try and 
rush, but even walking at a slow place, it still feels like Tom's 
fingers are caressing and pinching my nipples. I try to berate 
myself, "Slut, horny bitch. Think about something besides your tits 
and your twat." It's not helping. I feel the familiar sexual fog 
closing around me. I keep trying to fight it off, but it's a losing 
battle. 

Forgetting about my class, I'm only able to make it as far as the 
nearest bush. My hand plunges between my legs. My fingers work 
their magic in my juicy honey pot. My mind is cast adrift in the 
erotic fog. 

My body is now on autopilot. I start rhythmically shaking my tits, 
increasing the hot sensations from my nipples. The warm sexual fog 
engulfs me. My eyes lose focus, my mind drifts in a sea of blissful 
sensations, occasionally punctuated by small orgasms. They ripple 
through my body, but do nothing to diminish my arousal. 

Finally, the fog lifts a bit. There is pain in my leg muscles from 
standing in one place too long. I check my watch. I've missed my 
entire first class! My next class starts in 10 minutes. 

Fortunately, I'm standing right across from the building it's in. 
Even so, I only barely make it into my seat. It takes me 20 
minutes, staying absolutely motionless, before I calm down enough to 
pay attention to the lecture. 

When I look up, I notice the professor and half a dozen guys looking 
up my skirt. I think, "My legs have automatically spread themselves 
without any conscious thought. I bet they can see the outline of my 
mound through my sopping panties. 

At this point, I don't even bother closing my legs. If I don't 
constantly concentrate on keeping them together, they'll spread 
apart again. It'll happen automatically, without any conscious 
thought on my part. What a slave I'm becoming. My Master will be 
pleased." 

I do give the professor a big smile, spreading my legs a bit wider 
and silently hope, "This might help my grade. If I can't focus on 
the lecture or miss classes entirely then I'll need something to 
keep my GPA up." 

Suddenly, I'm disgusted with myself when I realize, "I'm acting just 
like the girls I used to despise, trading on my sex instead of only 
using my brain." On the other hand I think, "For the most part 
those girls are pretty stupid. A beautiful body is all they have to 
work with. They're just trying to snare a college grad with the 
right earning potential. I know I'm way smarter then they are. So 
does Tom." 

Well, Tom said to me, "A beautiful and intelligent woman like you 
should always use both her looks and her brains. It's a potent 
combination." Is he right or does it just make me a no-class tramp? 
I want him to be right and I trust what he tells me. My legs spread 
a little wider. 

"I'm feeling naughty", I decide, "Time to try a little experiment." 
Lifting my hand, I begin licking my finger, imagining that it's 
Tom's cock. In less then a minute, the professor scoots behind the 
front table in an attempt to hide the telephone pole that suddenly 
appeared in his pants from the front row. "I've got the power," I 
say happily to myself. 

When class ends I've still got the problem of how to walk across 
campus without a repeat of what happened earlier. "It's almost time 
to meet Tom for lunch" I remember then I recognize, "I really need 
to feel his manhood throbbing inside my pussy. I can't let this 
intense triple-arousal makes me lose track of time again. Then I'll 
not only miss Tom and his marvelous cock, but he'll be angry with 
me." I shudder at the implications of that happening without a very 
good reason. 

Trying several combinations, I finally hit on something that 
provides some relief. The Klegal exercises will keep the Ben-wa 
balls pretty stable. Using my upper arms to press my tits together 
reduces the motions causing the stimulation of my nipples. 
Unfortunately, it also makes my tits bulge out obscenely, 
especially in the outfit I'm wearing. 

Suddenly, I'm feeling very exposed and vulnerable. That makes me 
even hotter. I wish Tom were here to protect me. 

It gets much worse once I'm outside. The stares I got before are 
nothing compared to the obvious leers I get now. "Whore," "Bitch," 
are only a few of the things I hear the other girls say. Their 
words make me feel cheap and dirty. Tears leaking from my eyes, I 
start to run. 

I try to make sense of my unexpected emotions, "I'm proud of my 
body. I love to display it. Why am I letting a few jealous bitches 
make me feel cheap and dirty? Why does that make my pussy even 
wetter?" The fiery sensations from my nipples and pussy makes me 
slow down to a walk. 

Then I try to use my head instead of just my feelings, "I've heard 
comments like this before when I was with Tom and it didn't bother 
me. It excited me. Of course, when I'm with Tom, I rely on his 
approval and support. He has the power to make me feel like a 
beautiful princess who can succeed in any situation no matter where 
I am or how I'm dress. I've figured out the answer. The longer I'm 
away from him, the less confidence I have, and the more insecure I 
feel. I need him." 

My new goal allows me to ignore the jeers and the looks of distain. 
I drop my backpack by a tree run to meet Tom. Disregarding any sense 
of decorum, I take both tits in a hand to stop then from bouncing. 
Everyone turns to watch the half-naked girl flashing both her 
panties and belly, holding her almost-exposed huge hooters, long 
dark hair streaming behind her, racing across campus. 

I ignore them all. Keeping my fingers away from the nipples, I can 
hold back the stimulation to a manageable level. I focus on this 
thought, "Tom, I must find Tom; only he can rescue me from despair." 

Tom is waiting at our hideaway picnic spot. "Thank god you're 
here," I sob, throwing myself into his arms. Needing immediate 
physical proof of my worth I beg, "Please fuck me now, fuck me 
hard." I help him to strip me. When I'm naked, I throw myself on 
my back, spread my thighs wide, pull open the lips of my shaved 
pussy, and beg, "Shove it in. Put your cock in my nasty cunt." 

"Ohhhh. Ohhhhhh, Ohhhhhhhhh!" I cry out in several quick orgasms. 
Each one drains some of the despair and restores part of my 
self-image. I was right; this is what I need. 

After Tom climaxes, I beg, "Please keep your cock inside me and hold 
me." He holds me close for a few minutes before asking, "Tell me 
what's upsetting you." I try do my best to recount my morning, 
explaining how the added stimulation of the bra made my arousal 
uncontrollable and say, "I know I must tell you everything so you 
may give me guidance that I cannot receive anywhere else. Does a 
slave like me become dependent on her Master's touch and support?" 

Tom smiles and says, "I will give you what you need. Beautiful 
Princess Now Passionate Slave cannot exist separately from her 
Master." I repeat, "This passionate slave cannot exist separately 
from her Master." I listen raptly knowing I must remember and obey 
every word he says, "Your need is more unbreakable then any 
addiction. Only by repeating the slave's mantra can you manage your 
arousal by converting it into stored desire to be release by your 
Master's will. Each time the mantra is spoken your slavery and 
submission will become more profound and unbreakable. You remember 
Desiree speaking of it. Now you'll beg to learn it, memorize it, 
and repeat it constantly." I reply, "Yes Master" 

I must have faded away for a moment wrapped in the bliss of Tom's 
arms. Now I know how he can help me. I say, "I remember now how 
Desiree told me that the only way for a truly passionate slave to be 
able to pass for a normal girl was to use the 'slave mantra'. By 
reciting it, her sexual needs may be deferred until she's in her 
Master's arms or he chooses to release it. Please tell me more." 

Tom explains, "The slave mantra consists of hundreds of questions 
and answers repeated by a girl until she has memorized them. They 
are made part of her training. I will give you just the basics now 
and we will expand on it later this week. It should always be first 
learned while a girl feels a cock in her pussy." 

I smile squeezing his cock with my inner muscles. It's working! I 
feel him getting hard again and ask, "Well then isn't this the 
perfect time?" He starts gently thrusting and says, "You're right. 
Repeat each phrase after me." 

What am I? 
A slave girl. 
What is a slave girl? 
A girl who is owned. 
What is my purpose? 
To please and obey my Master. 
How will I obey? 
To the best of my ability. 
How will I be pleasing? 
With both body and mind. 
What excites you? 
Total submission. 
What do you want? 
My Master's command. 
What does it release? 
All my needs and desires. 
What do I desire? 
To be proud of my body. 
What do I need? 
My Master's approval. 
What do I love? 
I love being a slave girl. 

Tom makes me repeat the mantra. He commands me to store my growing 
arousal as he begins to fuck me. I realize amazed, "It works. There 
is a spot deep in my loins that slowly grows, but never seems to 
fill. My body still responds to his touch, my pussy gets wet and my 
nipples harden. The key is focusing on the mantra and my absolute 
submission to my Master's will. I'm able to hold off the many 
orgasms I'd otherwise have enjoyed. With each repetition I feel my 
dependence on Tom increase and my slavery growing more profound." 

He kept me at it until I had it memorized. It was probably 20 
minutes, but I had lost track of time. When Tom was satisfied he 
cups my boobs in his strong hands and whispers in my ear, "When I 
pinch both nipples, all your arousal and desire will be released." 
He covers my mouth with his and pinches. 

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," 
escapes through my nose. I stiffen to stone, my cunt clamps down on 
the invader like a vice; my body is consumed by molten lava, and 
lightning destroys my mind. I must be dying, no human body can 
stand such violent pleasure and pain. I feel Tom cum then all 
consciousness is driven from me. 

When I come to my senses, it's as if I'm paralyzed. My muscles have 
no energy to move. I realize, "It was another slave orgasm, more 
powerful then the one last night. I shiver in fear recalling the 
intensity. The new technique works, but there is a price to pay. 
How much more can I stand before my heart explodes? I see that Tom 
has covered my nakedness with part of out picnic blanket. I try to 
get his attention having recovered barely enough strength to 
whisper, "Tom, Tom." 

After only a few seconds, he notices and gives me a tender kiss. 
Tom is already dressed. He sits me up and feeds me like a little 
baby. Comfortingly, he tells me, "Don't worry. Everything is OK. 
You were marvelous. Just eat and get your strength back." I 
gradually recover with the food and his devoted attentions. 

Tom says, "We don't have much time before our next classes. I know 
how it gets you hot to display your body. This afternoon, do so by 
my command. Remember that a slave is not permitted modesty. Flaunt 
your beauty. Make the other girls jealous. Make them wish to be 
more like you." 

I smile at the appealing thought and reply, "Yes, Master." I 
continue asking, "And when I get too horny; I should use the 
mantra?" 

Tom answers, "Exactly. You learned the technique perfectly. I know 
the strength of your release was frightening. I didn't expect such 
a strong reaction, but you're constantly surprising me with your 
amazing sensuality. Now that I expect it, I can release your 
arousal more slowly. Trust me." 

"I always trust you completely, my Lord, my lover." I reply with a 
smile, reaching for another kiss. "Your quite welcome my princess, 
it's all part of the service." He replies with a wink. Still a 
little weak, I need Tom's help to get dressed as before, complete 
with new bra and Ben-wa balls. 

Tom helps me walk to the edge of campus. I tell him, "Thank you my 
Lord, I can manage from here. Our classes are in different 
directions." We have a good long kiss goodbye and he replies, "Of 
course, my princess, now that I see you have regained your natural 
vivaciousness, I can depart secure in the knowledge that you are 
fully able to handle every situation." I giggle, we cuddle, and 
then go our separate ways. 

That amazing orgasm temporally slowed my responsiveness. I'm 
halfway to my class before I feel the arousal start to build. This 
time I make no attempt to hide my luscious bod. I want to display 
it and let the other girls burn with jealously. It helps being 
secured by the knowledge that Tom wants me to be exhibitionist. 

I sway my hips and toss my hair, making my big boobs bounce 
enticingly. I'm determined to be proud of my body as my Master has 
commanded. All the boys and most of the girls watch me as I walk to 
class. I smile as several girls start arguing with the boys they're 
with. I'm sure it's about me. 

Of course, exhibiting myself this way makes my arousal grow faster. 
I need to recite the mantra, "What am I? A slave girl. What is a 
slave girl? A girl who is owned. I love being a slave girl." It 
works best if I do it "just under my breath". I need to be sure 
that no one is close enough to hear me. 

I find and recover my backpack. It's undisturbed, exactly where I 
left it. Once I get to class I find I can act like a serious 
student. For the first time in more then a week, I don't need to 
calm down and bring my arousal under control. Better still, I'm not 
late because I stopped behind a bush for "relief". 

"Cool," I think, "I'm able to focus on the lecture and take notes. 
I can behave the same as I did two weeks ago sitting in this same 
seat. The same is not true of most of the people sitting around me. 
The boys in particular seem distracted by something. Am I the 
reason they can't focus? I smile and pretend to ignore them." 

Unfortunately, some male lectures seem to be having a problem. 
They're distracted and can't seem to speak coherently. Perhaps it's 
because I've moved down to the front row and keep accidentally 
spreading my legs. 

I consider the possible dangers, "Does he have an excuse to ask me 
to leave class? I decide that if even one teacher is nasty about 
my new look then I'll start teasing him without mercy. There's 
plenty I can do with my sexy young body. Then the entire class will 
see him squirm. I know there are plenty of rules about teacher 
harassment of female students. He'll end up being the one getting 
in trouble." 

I feel a sudden powerful urge to strip off all my clothes and suck 
the teacher's cock then run naked across campus. "Stop girl," I 
think, "Get yourself under control." I use the mantra to suppress 
that impulse and calm myself, ". What is my purpose? To please and 
obey my Master. How will I obey? To the best of my ability. I love 
being a slave girl." 

I feel the "ball of arousal" growing. There seems to be a side 
effect, or is it just me, feeling a restive urge to display myself 
more. Why did I ever try to hide my sexy body? I never realized 
how much fun it is to be a tease. 

I'm even worse on the way to my next class. Same as before lunch, I 
use my upper arms to press my tits together. They bulge out 
obscenely, like they're ready to pop out of my bra. I'm so hot, I 
can feel the pussy juices dripping from my sopping panties. Only 
one thing stops me from running behind a bush to jerk off. The 
mantra stores my almost overpowering arousal until later, ". How 
will I be pleasing? With both body and mind. What excites you? 
Total submission. I love being a slave girl." 

I listen carefully for any girl making an insulting comment. I 
ignore them unless she's walking with a guy. When I spot one, I 
sashay over, so everything jiggles and make a comment like, "If you 
didn't dress like a frigid bitch you wouldn't need to be jealous." 
Then I grab the guy, press myself against him, and when his mouth 
opens to speak, French kiss him. 

I don't discriminate between geeks or hunks. When a guy doesn't 
appeal to me, I just imagine that it's Tom. If he tries to pull 
away, I know how to quiet him down. His cock is probably half hard 
just from watching me walk. I reach down and grab it through his 
pants. When he stops trying to escape, I massage it until I'm done 
with him. 

Then I leave with a comment like, "When a handsome guy like you is 
ready for a real woman, I'll introduce you to one of my friends." 
The idiot girls all take out their frustrations on the poor guys. I 
escape to search for my next victim. 

I giggle to myself thinking, "The shy, demure girl I used to be is 
gone. She was naively ignorant of how to use the assets the good 
lord gave her. I like the new aggressive, shameless woman I've 
become. She won't take any crap from her inferiors." 

By the time the day is over, I don't hear any more nasty comments. 
I notice several girls steering their guys clear of me. Many of 
them were not even my "victims". Word must have spread not to screw 
around with me. It gives me a feeling of power. 

Power is also concern. My "ball of arousal" is much, much larger 
then before. I getting nervous about what might happen when it's 
released. And the thought of my total submission during a slave 
orgasm is making me hotter still. I won't make it back to the van 
unless I keep repeating, ". What do you want? My Master's command. 
What does it release? All my needs and desires. I love being a 
slave." 

It's like a positive feedback loop now. The "ball" is somehow 
driving me, urging me to find more victims, more boys I can press my 
hot body against. Except it makes me want to do more now, to dance 
my fervor, to strip and dance naked, to proclaim myself a slave. 
Things I cannot do without displeasing my Master. 

I can only maintain control by continually repeating my mantra, ". 
What do I desire? To be proud of my body. What do I need? My 
Master's approval. What do I love? I love being a slave." The 
mantra adds to the ball making it bigger, increasing the driving 
power of my urges. If I can't stop it soon I don't know what will 
happen. I have to go back to the van. I need to reach Tom before I 
explode. 

I reach the van and see him inside through the window. I'm so 
worked up that just the sight of him gives me a small orgasm. My 
legs give out and I slowly collapse to the ground calling out, "Tom, 
help!" 

- - - - - - 

Tom heard Cathy's voice. He came out of the van and sees her lying 
on the ground in a daze. Picking her up, he smells the arousal 
rising from her. She mummers the mantra again and again. "Uh Oh," 
he says, "You overdid it. Even I heard about the big-breasted, 
half-naked beauty on campus that was trying to seduce every girl's 
boyfriend away from her. Well your modesty is almost gone. It's 
time to remove what little remains." 

Tom closes the door, takes off his clothes then strips Cathy's limp 
form. Her body shudders occasionally as another small orgasm is set 
off by the touch of his hands. He thinks, "She cannot be treated 
gently. She requires a slave's release." 

He places a towel beneath me as he positions my body then commands, 
"Slave, I know you can hear me. Do not speak. I will give you the 
release you need. You will experience a small slave orgasm each 
time I thrust my cock into you. You will have a larger slave orgasm 
when I spank you. With each orgasm you will feel the last pieces 
of your modesty being destroyed. Whatever remains will be destroyed 
by your when I cum inside you, releasing the remainder of your 
arousal in one giant slave orgasm." 

- - - - - - 

"Aaaaaaaaaaah," I moan, climaxing immediately when Tom enters my 
steaming cunt from the rear. "Aaaaaaaaaaah, Aaaaaaaaaaah, 
Aaaaaaaaaaah," I cry as each thrust forces another orgasmic 
submission from me. Wack! "Oooooooowwwwwwwwwwaaaaaaahhhh," I 
squeal in mixed pain and pleasure when he spanks my ass. Wack! 
"Oooooooowwwwwwwwwwaaaaaaahhhh," I scream, compelled to the second 
large slave orgasm in a row. "Hit me," I beg, "Hurt me." 

"Think if you have any modesty remaining," Tom demands. 
"Aaaaaaaaaaah," I moan in orgasm, seeing myself stripping for him in 
the center of campus. "Aaaaaaaaaaah," another climax burns as I see 
myself fucking him in the amphitheater before a cheering crowd. 
"Aaaaaaaaaaah," I cry, seeing myself giving him head, naked before 
my mom. "Aaaaaaaaaaah," I wail, seeing myself wearing only my skimpy 
nightshirt, teasing the Preacher until he presses his hard cock into 
me. 

Wack! "Oooooooowwwwwwwwwwaaaaaaahhhh," I shriek yielding to another 
slave orgasm. "Answer me slave!" demands Tom. "Aaaaaaaaaaah," I 
cry, climaxing repeatedly as I attempt to answer, "No Master, 
aaaaaaaaaah, I have no modesty left. Aaaaaaaaaaah, A slave is not, 
aaaaaaaaaah, permitted modesty. Aaaaaaaaaaah, Fuck your bad girl. 
Aaaaaaaaaaah, Reem your slave's cunt." 

Tom says, "You are so fucking hot and sexy. I'm almost there." I 
can't speak anymore only moan. I ram my cunt backwards, trying to 
drive the hardness deeper. My climaxes merge, becoming one endless 
orgasm. I feel the "ball of arousal" slowly shrinking, but it is 
still vast. 

"Arggggggghhhhhhhhhhh," shouts Tom in victory as he drives his cock 
deep into my womb and blasts his essence into me. 
"Oooooooowwwwwwwwwwaaaaaaahhhh," I howl forced to total submission 
by a gigantic slave orgasm that scorches the flesh from my bones and 
destroys the last remaining bits of modesty and propriety that I had 
hidden even from myself. 

Tom and I both collapse onto the bed. Once again my muscles are 
paralyzed with fatigue. Even the muscles of my cunt are unable to 
hold his softening cock. It slips out. Our cum leaks out into the 
towel Tom put beneath me. 

I hear Tom begin to snore. He's fallen asleep. My body is pressed 
down into the mattress by his weight. There's nothing I can do, but 
wait and think, "Has my modesty been destroyed? I sense that it is 
true. Being exposed and displayed will still affect me, but only to 
arouse me. The only concern will be getting into trouble for 
'public lewdness'." 

My thoughts shift, "That amazing series or climaxes. Wow! For the 
first time, I had multiple slave orgasms. It was fantastic, 
incredible. Better then anything I had ever dreamed possible. I 
have been spoiled forever. I could never go back. I'd had many 
normal female climaxes. They were very sweet, sometimes like a 
single violin playing a haunting love song, sometimes like a single 
drum playing a rousing match. However, they paled in comparison to 
a slave orgasm. It was like a full orchestra playing their entire 
musical range with all their energy and skill. You are swept up in 
a total, overwhelming experience, feeling things you never suspected 
even existed." 

My burgeoning need for sex is totally sated, at least for the 
moment. I've never felt so happy, fulfilled, and content. I savor 
the feeling of drifting into sleep naked under my man thinking, "Tom 
knows me better then I know myself. He's opening endless new worlds 
for me to experience. I am given all the things I truly need. I 
love him. I love belonging to Tom. This is one of life's perfect 
moments. If I'm lucky, I'll remember it forever. What could be 
better?" 

==================================================== 

Next, Part 8: BlackCherry-Lost {mf md mc anal humil} was 
Hind-Virginity-Lost 

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Fall from Grace, Part 7: Modesty-Lost {mf md mc humil spank} 
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