Let me tell you a little bit about me. When my great adventure

began, I was young age 25and not very experienced. Oh, I had

sex any number of times, in a number of different ways, but I

never felt the wild excitement in actually doing those things

that I imagined in advance. I had a million different, very kinky

fantasies, things that I really wanted to do but was afraid to

try, even if I had the opportunity to try which I really didn't

have. Mostly, my fantasies involved me as a sort of slave girl,

captured by some strong individual. Some days I imagined my

master to be a male and sometimes a female, with special events

for each one. What I thought I really wanted was a strong master

or mistress, one who also had wild sexual fantasies, and who

would take charge of me and would then act out those fantasies,

obviously with me playing out the part of slave girl, used by

master (or maybe better yet, mistress) in strange and delicious

ways, hopefully with an audience watching and most delicious of

all, whether I liked it or not. I wanted strange and sexy things

to happen and not have any say as to the agenda, to be used,

perhaps even to be a little bit abused. My figure is good, that is, I think it is good, and maybe you

will agree that is, you will if you like full bodied girls with

large, shapely titties. I am tall, about 5'7", with a nice, full

shapely bust, good legs, and a delicious round bottom. I love

being nude, and enjoy other people seeing me nude. I have even

posed nude for a guy, just for fun, very naughty, very sexy

pictures, like me masturbating for him, with a large rubber

dildo or, for example his favorite shot me urinating for him,

the stream shooting out like a waterfall. I did find that very

exciting (though I would just die if those pictures ever got out)

and no, I won't show YOU the pictures, either. I also did pose

nude once for a very, very sexy amateur lady photographer, but

that is completely a different story that I do not intend to tell

you today. All I will say about that is that she was dressed

when she took the first pictures of me, she was nude when she

took the last pictures of me, and the very best pictures would

have been taken a while later, but by then, frankly, she was too

busy to think about taking pictures. She had her mind on

something else (and her tongue into something else, too). I love reading about kinky sex. Sometimes I go to the porno

shops, to look at the fascinating things they write about, and to

look at the exciting array of rubber dildos and accessories that

they sell. I even bought a couple of those things strictly as a

scientific experiment, you understand. I know a nice shop in

Miami that sells remarkable stuff and I have purchased four

different dildos and a couple of rubber butt pluggers. I adore

playing with these toys, and had a secret fantasy about somebody

else putting them into me (instead of me doing it myself). If it

was a super sexy guy who did it, and if he started me out with a

nice, bare bottomed spanking, that would be just great. And if

it was a marvelous, beautiful, dominant super sexy lady who did

it to me, that would be the greatest.!!!! In one of the shops I found a magazine, a Swingers Journal that

seemed interesting. It had just fascinating pictures, especially

in the B&D area that was my particular excitement at the time.

The ads seemed like fun. One of these showed a guy whose area of

interest was in spankings, enemas, and Greek things about which

I had many secret thoughts but not much real experience. I

decided that I would answer this particular ad not intending

ever to meet this guy, but rather, just to hear what he had to

say. A week or so later I got a letter from him, with a nude picture.

His name was Tom. He was a divorcee. He was about 35, well

built, well hung, too. And he was holding a leather paddle in

his hand and hanging from the ceiling next to him was a large

enema bag, a long rubber hose attached to it, and connected to

the end of that, a black rubber looking device that got inserted

into the recipient of this enema, and really did the work. It

looked like a huge, erect, black penis. Believe me, it was an

impressive picture. His letter told about how he liked to be masterful, how he

thought that there was no sight so beautiful as a naked, shapely,

female bottom, and nothing he liked to do so much as to pet it,

to kiss it and to spank it until it was rosy pink. Then, when

she was fully ready and receptive, to give her a long, slow, deep

enema, filling her fuller than she had ever been filled before,

using, of course, a Bardex so that she could not expel it until

permitted. And then to lubricate her pretty asshole, greasing it

generously until it was slippery, and then to fuck it deeply and

firmly. His letter excited me tremendously. He became an

instantaneous member in my library of fantasies. I wrote back to him, he replied again, and this time included a

telephone number. I stared at that for a long time. I knew that

calling the number was taking a very serious step that there was

at least a chance that I would follow up and visit him at, as he

described it, his Domination Laboratory. I did call the number.

When he replied, his voice was much as I expected it to be, and

the conversation also was about what I had expected. We agreed

to meet not at his place, but on neutral ground, at a certain

coffee shop, nothing else promised but the meeting. I was

willing to go that far in advance, but no further at all. Oh, I

knew I would go ahead and meet him at the coffee shop, but I did have serious doubts about whether I would go from there to his

place. The day of the meeting came, and as promised, I went. In fact, I

got there early so that I could scout out the scene, and if he

showed, and if I did not like his looks up close, I could sneak

out. Well, he did show up on time, and I did like his looks. We

had an fascinating conversation about everything else in the

world except sex. We found a million things to talk about, found

lots of areas of common interest, a few fun things to fightÜj about, too. After a long time maybe as much as a couple of

hours, it was time to leave. I declined to go to his place yet,

but since I did not have a car with me I had hopped on the bus

to get there he drove me home. As luck would have it, a vacant

parking place was right there almost at my front door. He walked

me to the door, and right into my apartment. What happened next

was an awful long way from what our letters talked about. We

were soon petting and in short order he had me out of my sweater

and bra, and soon out of everything else. He got me very

excited, undressed himself and showed off a nice looking, very

erect penis. We did have very nice, normal sex. It was fun,

pleasant, and certainly not earth shaking. I am not even sure

now that he made me cumm that night. I don't think so, but then,

I rarely do in regular intercourse. He called me again the following week. Soon, we were dating,

more or less regularly, having good sex once or twice a week, but

no domination, no spankings. One evening we did go to his place.

This time, he showed me his laboratory a room in the basement,

with wood paneled walls, a large, sturdy oak library table with a

gym mat as a top, and a rubber sheet over it. That was the

laboratory. We wondered what it would be like if I was up on it,

bottomup. I complied. Attached to each leg of the table was a

leather strap. He put a leather dog collar around each of my

wrists, and then fastened the wrist to one of the leather strapsªstretching my arms out wide, and helpless. Very quickly, my

ankles were similarly fastened. I was now spreadeagled,

completely under his control. Sid he now take charge completely? Absolutely not. He talked to

me, and came back to our early correspondence, and what I had

told him I wanted him to do. And all this time, his hands were

wandering over my bare ass. Suddenly, SPLATT!!! He whacked me

with his big, bare hand across my ass. It stung a little bit,

but certainly did not really HURT. Again.......and again....a

few more times. Then he went to the closet. He took out a

leather strop. Long and wicked looking. He talked to me some

more. And then he raised the strop and swished it, fairly hard,

across my ass. It did hurt but it felt good at the same time.

He gave me a fairly thorough spanking that day, followed by the

love enema he had talked about.. a long, slow enema that took 20

or 30 minutes to go in. Along the way a couple of times I told

him that I could not take any more. Each time, he would stop the

water flow for a while until I got used to the feeling...and then

start it again. Eventually, he gave me as much as he wanted me

to have, but then he made me keep it in for a while longer. After he finally did let me expel it into the toilet, I got to

rest a while, but then he did greek me. He first expanded my

anus with a greased finger, and then two and three at the same

time, stretching me. He had a conical, rubber dildoa buttªplugger. Slowly, almost tenderly, he inserted it in me until the

thickest part was past the sphincter. In it went the rest of the

way, the thick rim preventing it from going in too far. He askedÜj me how it felt. Actually, it felt almost marvelous. I was

almost disappointed when he pulled it out and I was shocked when

from his drawer he pulled out a stilllarger version of the same

thing. This looked too big to ever get into such a tight place.

However, with patience, and perseverance and plenty of pressure,

he did get it innnnnnnnnnn slowly, stretching me larger, until

the largest diameter passed the sphincter and it was lodged fully

up inside me. He gave me a little more of the leather strop, so

I could have the two sensations together. After a while, the

rubber plug came out. He got up astride, put the blunt, rigid

end of his cock against my now stretched rosette. After what had

happened so far, that did not really hurt at all it was sort of

tight, but not painful. And to me, the sensation of being fucked

in the ass by a masterful man was just marvelous, though I must

say that never did I have the feeling that I was out of control.

I always felt that any time I really wanted him to stop and go no

further, that he would have without question. Never did I feel

totally dominated, subjugated, like the subdued slavegirl I

really wanted to be. The next time or two that we were together, things were much the

same. After we had done the same things a few times, we began to

talk about fantasies, and he made me tell him mine. It relates to

Mrs. Olsen, who was my landlady, and who really disliked me. If I ever was going to try the slavegirl experience, totally

controlled by another, she would be absolutely my first choice. Now the wierd thing about her was that she once had been a strong

disciplinarian, a teacher in one of those strange schools where

the students are punished. I overheard her telling a lady friend

once that she did have an experience. She had a student who

badly needed the discipline, and nothing that Mrs. Olsen ever

did seemed to make that one shape up. Repeated applications of

the leather did not make any difference. The cure for her,

according to Mrs. Olsen, was that she was given a thorough

stropping, forced to take a number of tablespoons of castor oil,

thank Mrs. Olsen for each one, stropped some more, and then given

a large mouthful of Mrs. Olsen's shit to eat, a tablespoonful at

a time. I overheard this and never forgot it. And, I am sure, I

masturbated about it a thousand times. That was my fantasy. I

wanted to be taken over by somebody who disliked me, stripped,

spanked thoroughly, made to eat her pussy, and then more

humiliating things. Now understand about Mrs. Olsen. She is tall and strong, a very

handsome woman, with a very potent personality. She is about 45.

There is no Mr. Olsen around. I do not know if she is a widow or

a divorcee she is not the kind of person that you ask questions

of. We genuinely do not like each other. I think she is

overbearing. She thinks that I am wild, spoiled, disrespectful.

While she is my landlady, I cannot wait to get out of there, and

she cannot wait to have me gone. But she still is very much in my

fantasies. This story, embellished somewhat, is what I told to

Tom. He is very interested in this, and says that he is going toÜj look into making it all happen. He had me write him a letter,

detailing all this, though how exactly he plans to make use of

it, I do not know. Today, Tom called at lunch time and asked me to come over this

evening, and to be sure to be there before 8:00 PM. He says that

we might, just might, have company, though he won't say who and

he won't say what. I am fantasizing about this, have been all

day now, not knowing what to expect. Today is Thursday, I

thought, and today is the day that perhaps I am going to meet my

fate. Thomas had heard my story and questioned me on it in

detail. He knew what I think I want. He was delighted to help

me, to play in our little drama. He had my letter, written in my

own hand, addressed to him, which detailed everything. He had

also purchased a pint bottle of castor oil at the drug storethe

only item on the list that he did not have in advance. And he

had made the calls, I believe, talked to Mrs. Olsen, explained

our relationship, and had her surprised (and he says, delighted

and enthusiastic) agreement to participate. He told her that he

had been regularly spanking me, had nude photos of me that he

knew she would want to see, and had ideas of advanced discipline

for me that he wanted to discuss with her. She was cautious, but

interested after all, this was really right up her alley, and it

was being handed to her on a silver platter, so to speak. This time, for the first time, I did not drive to his place. I

knew that if the adventure was going to go according to his plan

that I would be taken home, in bondage, by Mrs. Olsen. My car

would only be in the way. I went there by cab, dressed as usual

in jeans and a sweater. The clothes made no difference. I would

be nude as soon as I got there. Thomas' house was no different

than at any other time. The furnishings are sparse, but

adequate. The room down in the basement, which was the "playroom"

had wood paneled walls, with various hooks and eyes, and the

large, very sturdy oak library table with a padded top. On the

floor stood a brown paper bag. I was instructed to strip down to

my panties, but to leave them on a pair of black nylon bikini

panties that he had bought for me that he liked. I was to put

each article of clothing that I removed into that paper bag.

Soon enough I was almost nude, trembling slightly, though not

from fright. Thomas had seen me nude now a number of times and

had used me in the various ways that a punished girl is used.

Instead, I was trembling in anticipation. This might be the

night that Mrs. Olsen would join us, and if she did, there was no

telling how the agenda might go. This time, for preparation, all

that happened was that Tom put wrist cuffs on me and fastened my

wrists behind my back. I was helpless. And I was wondering if

she would appear and if she did appear if she would participateªand if she did participate, how severe she would be with me. I had fantasies about how she would be dressed. No matter what

she had on top, I knew that she would wear a black merrywidow, a

short corset like garment, only hip length, and with that, black

operalength hose and garters. And of course, black panties that

revealed more than they hid, through which would clearly beÜj visible her fulsome behind. I had seen her dressed this way, and

it really depressed me. It also really excited me. I had

visions of kissing that large, shapely bottom, of thrusting my

tongue up inside and I hated these visions. And secretly begged

that she make it happen. I stood, just marking time. The phone range. Tom went upstairs

to talk, and seemed gone forever. Then the doorbell rang. I

could hear voices as he answered upstairs, but could not identify

who was there. I could only hope. Footsteps could be heard two

pair were coming down the stairs and there she was!! Mrs. Velma Olsen stood there, looking just gorgeous, dressed in a

simple, severe black dress. She looked around the room, looked

finally at me, standing wearing only my panties, my wrists

fastened behind my back. "My dear", she said. "You cannot

imagine how glad I am to see you here. And looking so lovely,

too". I stood still as her hands ran across my lower body, fondling my

bottom, gently squeezing one cheek of my ass. Her hands ran up

my front, taking hold of each bare breast and fondling me. She

took my nipples, each between a thumb and forefinger and gently

squeezed, bringing them to instant erectionand using my

nipples to pull by, dragged me in very close. "Let me see your

tongue", she commanded. I opened my mouth, showed her the tip of

my tongue. Squeezing somewhat harder, she ordered me

"Further,darling. Stick it all the way out so that i can see

it." I complied. She opened her mouth, and we deepkissed. And

gently, she bit down on my tongue. Not very hard, but hard

enough. This was not at all what I had expected. "My dear", she said, "Tom has told me how naughty you have been. I am not really surprised, but it is nice to have confirmation

that I have been correct. He has asked that I help in modifying

your behavior. Won't that be fun?" And in saying that she

squeezed hard on each erect nipple, making me gasp. She removed the black frock. She did not have the merrywidow

onrather, she was wearing only a sexy looking deepcut black

bra, and black panty hose. This emphasized her curvaceous

figure, and with her high heels, she had a totally queenly

appearance. Tom, watching closely his eyes popping out at the

sight was obviously very erect. It seemed certain that at least

for now, he was going to be a voyeur in this drama not a direct

participant. It also seemed that he did not mind in the least. Velma sat, and pulled me over her lap, bottomup. Her hands

fondled my bikiniclad rump, squeezing here and there, probing a

bit. A hand ran inside the waist band and squeezed naked flesh

not hard, but rather more a loving squeeze. She quickly pulled

my panties down, tugged them all the way off, and asked me to

open my legs so that she could see all my parts. Her hands probed

here and there. First a finger touched all around my vulva,

testing for creaminess. I was sopping wet. The finger probedÜj inward, deeply, came out again and rubbed gently across my now

erect clit, almost making me leap off her lap. The finger found

its way between the upturned cheeks of my bottom, found the

rosebud pointing up at her, gently forced its way inside, full

depth. This also seemed to please her. "Ooh yes, you are just lovely," she said, "just the way I knew

you would be". And she raised her right hand and spanked me fiercely across one

cheek of my upturned bottom. Very slowly, she lectured me on

good behavior, punctuating almost every point with another hard

swat on my bare ass, first on one cheek and then the other,

alternating back and forth it seemed, to be sure that each side

got its fair share. Well, each side got more than its fair

share. Very soon she brought me to tears. This went on for a

while much longer than I had expected, and much more of a

spanking than Tom had ever given me. I was crying now, not

knowing what to say. I begged her to stop, promising her as a little girl might that I

would be good, that I would never again be disrespectful, that I

would obey her in anything, just anything, that she might want me

to do. She pushed me off onto the floor, ordered me to kneel

before her. Now understand how I felt. I had truly been punished

and my bottom felt like it was on fire. I felt humiliated to be

treated this way, and to have Tom see me treated this way. I

felt totally ashamed of myself for getting myself into this

situation. And I felt totally under her control. But most of

all, I felt absolutely, orgasmically excited. She was Queen, she

was in charge, and what would happen was completely up to her.

What she wanted from me, she would get!!! She took off her black bra, and showed me (and Tom) a pair of

delicious, shapely, large breasts. She offered me a thick, dark

brown nipple to kiss. I had no doubts whatever about what was

going to happen now, and I did just as she indicated she wanted

me to do I leaned forward, and took that luscious morsel into my

mouth and sucked it lovingly. Shortly, her hand found my

earlobe, and pulled me downward. She shucked her black

underpants, spread her husky, shapely thighs, and showed me a

musky crotch, obviously excited that she wanted me to kiss as a

gesture of submission. And all the time that I had known her,

hated her, always I had known that this was what I really wanted.

I had dreamed about it a thousand times, the thought of me being

on my knees, kneeling before her widespread thighs, peering into

her open, expectant crotch, looking at the pink lips and her

erect clit, standing up and awaiting my kiss. I knew the

significance of this position. I was going to lean forward and

kiss her there, and suck her juices, and give her pleasure. And

by so doing, she was going to take possession of me to use me any

way that she chose to use me in the future. I was going to be

converted to her slave girl, and she would own me and operate me.

I buried my face in it, her gorgeous, feminine cunt, tasting her juices, enjoying the strange flavors and enjoying the sexy,

gorgeous feeling of humiliation of doing this with Tom watching.

He loved it. I was still on my knees between her thighs when she reached to

the table for the bottle of castor oil, and a tablespoon. A

large spoonful was poured, and offered to me. I pursed my lips,

knowing that no taste did I hate so much as this. I refused.

She smiled, reached over and took a nipple, and pinched HARD. It

hurt, really hurt. I screamed, not understanding her sudden

change in mood. She said, "Now there you are being willful,

disobedient. That is exactly what I am going to correct." She pinched again, and I immediately opened my mouth wide, and

got for my troubles the tablespoonful of the castor oil. I

gagged on it, but managed to swallow it down. "Would you like another?" she asked. When I gasped out NOOO, she pinched again, saying "Now that is

the WRONG answer, darling. Let me ask again. Would you like

another?" I knew what would happen if I said no again. I did not know what

to say. She said it for me. She said "May I have another that

would be the way that you would say it if you had good manners". And with that, she gave me another pinch, this time not so hard

but still hard enough. And of course, I did ask for another, and

was duly rewarded with a large spoonful, and then a moment later,

another and another......... I was let alone for a while, while Velma and Tom disappeared

upstairs. They were gone for a long time. When they came back,

I could see that Tom had lost his erection. Velma sat down again

before me, her thighs spread again, and beckoned me to kiss her.

I did, of course, and found now that she was ever so much more

juicy than before, a totally different flavor, too. Obviously,

out of my sight, they had fucked. She had paid Tom, in a sense,

for turning me over to her for discipline, and she had thanked

him in the manner he liked best. Velma reached into her purse,

and found a new toy a large nipple clip that she attached to one

of my nipples, and snapped a leash onto it. This was a new way

to lead somebody around. She found my coat, threw it over my

shoulders, took the leash in one hand, the paper bag with my

clothes in the other, said goodbye to Tom, and led me out to her

car. As she led me, her attitude seemed to be that of a great

lady who had just procured a new toy, and now meant to take it

home and play with it in depth. I was the toy. And I knew this

game that we were going to play. She was going to make the rules

and I was going to abide by them without any limits. She would

be judge and jury and enforcer. In the car, she reached into the coat, took my other breast in her hand and very gently fondled it, rubbing the nipple. She

turned her face to me, and offered me a very wet kiss and as

well, a totally confusing mixture of sensations and feelings.

Her hand ran between my thighs, into my pussy, feeling its

wetness. She gently, very gently frigged my clit, bringing me

almost, but not quite to orgasm. And she nibbled on my ear lobe,

and thrust a tongue into my ear, in the meanwhile whispering

"Darling girl, I am going to be your teacher, and I am going to

just loooovvvvee being your teacher. You are just going to love

it. Did you enjoy going down on me?" Considering the remarkable talent she had shown for pinching my

nipples and making me do her thing, I knew I had better give the

right answer. I said that I loved it. "Good", she said, "since you like it so well, do it again, right

now." So, for another ten or fifteen minutes we sat parked in front of

Tom's house, my face buried in her humid cunt, my tongue sucking

her clit and all the while, that castor oil was doing its

insidious work, taking me ever closer to that particular point of

no return. Away we drove, finally, towards home. I was certain that I would

never make it there, considering the wild sensations in my

bowels. Somehow, I did manage to hold on long enough, my stomach

heaving and quenching as she led me up the stairs, firmly holding

the leash. I begged for permission to go to the bathroom, and to

my surprise, it was granted without question. Velma was for the

moment in her sweet phase. I came back out, and was granted

permission to shower and to rest a bit. Rest for what? Well, as

it turned out, for quite a bit more. An hour later, after relaxing and watching the evening news on

TV, she ordered me up. My hands were fastened behind my back

again, and after some really lovingtype gentle play with my

nipples, we began to discuss discipline. She reviewed my conduct

over the past several years that we had known each other. She

pointed to a number of specific instances where, she thought, I

could have, should have behaved differently. Now, she told me,

she was going to teach me number of things, but better manners

and better behavior and total obedience to recognized authority

were certainly vital parts of the lessons. Obviously, she was now

the recognized authority that she referred to. To determine if I

was sufficiently obedient, she turned her back to me, bent

forward to give me a delightful view of her bare ass, her legs

spread so that I could see her brown rosette, almost winking at

me. I knew what she wanted me to do, to give it a long, wet, sweet

thrusting kiss. At that point, I could not. She said that this

was disobedience, exactly what she had meant. And announcing

this, she bent me over the end of the couch, my bottom raised. Üj She left me there for a moment, went to fetch something from the

closet, and showed it to me a wicked looking leather strap,

about 18" long, 3" wide, and the end cut into three separate

tongues of leather. She told me that it was a trainer, sometimes

called a tawse, but by any name a marvelous tool for one job for

teaching. She said that nature had provided every female a place

to be taught her naked behind. There, lessons could be given,

that might be painful for the moment, but they would be

remembered and no permanent harm would come. And with that, she

raised the tawse, and SSSSSPPPPLLLAAATTT!! a fiery streak, right

across the crowns of both cheeks. I screamed out. She said

nothing, and for a long time, the only sound in the room was the

voice from the TV. Time dragged, and my behind was on fire. I

had never really felt anything like it before. And thenªSSSSSPPPPPPPLLLAAATTTT!! Again, she burned my bottom, as before.

And now it hurt twice as much, if that is possible. I was

sobbing, crying, begging her to let me go. All that got me was a

third and then a fourth shot of the wicked tawse across my rump.

She asked me questions about things I had done the previous year,

about things I had said, about Tom. She wanted to know if I had

been letting him fuck me. I said no. That immediately earned me

another vicious swat with the tawse. Again she asked, and this

time I confessed. She wanted to know if I had him use me up the

ass. I denied it and got yet another stroke. I confessed that

Tom had been using me anally. She noted that down for future

reference, as if that was another transgression that she intended

to cure. I was crying hysterically now, willing to tell her

anything, willing to confess to any sin, and getting in the

process a barnburner of a spanking. Suddenly it stopped. She said to me, "What would you like to do,now?" I knew there was

only one answer to that question, and I said it, "Please let me

show you, let me kiss your beautiful ass." She smiled slightly,

bent forward again, and again, offered her brown rosette to my

tongue. Now, finally, I did what I had always really wanted to

do. I thrust my tongue against it, probed inward slightly,

tasted her strange flavor, and gave her thusly the kiss of total

obedience. She left the room. After what seemed a long time, she returned,

carrying a paper plate. I knew what would happen next, and sure

enough, she found a spoon, and then asked me if I wanted my

dessert now. I gulped, cried again, and said nooooo. And for

that refusal, got another two strokes of the tawse. She asked

again, and knowing that this would go on until I said yes, I did

so. She made me request it, made me ask her to please feed me my

dessert.