Wedding Ceremony

Wednesday, January 29, 2014 | 0 comments

I followed Jason and Elena up the stairs, and Elena guided me to the master bedroom, where I was to dress and be ready for the wedding / enslavement ceremony.

All was ready for the wedding, the few guests would arrive in a couple of hours. I simply needed to dress, put on makeup, do my hair, and eat a little something. In other words, I needed to hurry.

I was nervous, and so glad Elena was there to help me. Elena grabbed a breakfast roll and some milk for me. While I munched on that, she opened several boxes that had been delivered earlier in the week. She took out some specially made panties to start. They were white, lacy, and very minimalistic, covering little in front and converging to a single thong strip through my ass cheeks.

Next came stockings, which were pulled up each leg slowly to make sure they didn’t bunch and appeared smooth and tight. They were sheer white, with lace at the top. A white garter belt went around my waist and held them up.

The came the dreaded corset. This was something truly unique to this wedding. Made of a heavy cloth ribbed with metal stays, it was pure white, lacy, and extremely tight and uncomfortable. Elena wrapped it around me. I raised my arms up over my head, and felt it go around my waist and chest like a soft body cast. Elena fastened the initial hooks while I held my breath. When it was in place, the top pressed my breasts up like a bra, though it didn’t cover my nipples.

I breathed some, and then Elena started lacing the back of the corset. She started at the bottom, pulling and tightening the laces, working her way up, pulling more and more tightly as she reached the top. At each yank I thought the squeezing would press my internal organs out my throat, until the next yank seemed to press on them even harder.

“Oh, god… Elena… you are doing it too tightly! I won’t be able to walk, or breathe!”

“Siobhan, dear, you know the instructions. The laces are to be pulled until the cloth meets in back. It has been measured very specifically, and I am sure Jason would not allow this if it wasn’t possible. Remember, this isn’t supposed to feel good. It is an act of submission and obedience.”

I knew what she meant. The corset was to be an instrument of suffering for me. My first, really. I would be suffering for him during the ceremony. If I couldn’t take this, there was no point in going through with the wedding.

I sucked in the air and felt the metal stays dig in to my flesh as Elena tightened the last laces. Tears came to my eyes, but it was done. I lowered my arms, and admired my shape in the mirror. I had to admit, I looked incredibly sexy, which made me feel sexy. It also hurt, as if a 100 pound weight was pressing on my stomach and chest.

The dress was next. The most lovely part of the whole process, this dress was a beautiful traditional gown, white satin with lace covering it, designed to match the corset. It rose and barely covered my breasts. I knew I would have to be careful, leaning over would expose my nipples though I could not imagine bending over in the corset. In fact, I couldn’t think about sitting in the corset.

Elena helped me with shoes, as it was impossible for me to reach my feet. The shoes were a beautiful white patent leather, shiny, with six inch heels. Jason loved heels, and I was used to balancing in them. In fact, I had even worn ballet boots around the house on several occassions. I would walk carefully, but I could manage.

The mirror showed a beautiful woman, dressed as a bride and looking as radiant as any bride could be. The shoes and corset made the outfit uncomfortable, but I also felt exhilirated. I was going to make Jason so proud of me, and be the envy of every guest. I felt sexier and more beautiful than I had ever felt.

The next half hour was spent with makeup; Elena was wonderful helping, and the result was a very natural look that hid all my facial flaws without looking artificial. I kissed her hard, on the lips, in thanks.

“Siobhan… I sure am going to miss you. I hope Jason lets us play, I will so… ” She began to cry.

Elena was not only my best friend, she was my lover. Though once I was enslaved to Jason, my relationship with her would be at his whim.

“Elena, don’t worry. Jason is not cruel. Well, he is a little, at times. But he will let us be together, I am sure of it.” We hugged and kissed again, playing with tongues but making sure my makeup would not be messed.

The veil went on, and we were ready. Or so I thought.

One last box, Elena opened it and out came a beautiful leather binder. A leather collar for the neck, a strap down the back that ended just below the shoulder blades in two wrist cuffs.

I was to be bound at the ceremony. I should have expected this.

The collar went on, and once comfortably tight around my neck, Elena locked it in place with a small padlock. I didn’t see any key for the lock, I presumed Jason had it.

I placed my arms behind my back and Elena pulled them up higher, getting them into place for the wrist cuffs. They were tight as she locked them, but the leather was soft and supple, and not too uncomfortable.

Now we simply had to wait for the guests to arrive and the ceremony to begin.


We stood in the living room, looking out at the beautiful back yard. It was decorated in flowers, red and white ones, which green ivy strung through latticework. At the end of a short walkway through the grass stood Jason, his friend Steve, and the minister. The minister had been interesting to find, but we finally found just the right guy who was willing to marry and preside over a willing enslavement. Eight guests lined the walkway, ready for us to join them.

As music played, Elena walked down the pathway and stepped to the side opposite Steve. I then walked down the path, my arms bound behind me, my beautiful dress covering the severe corset, my head bowed in a submissive attitude. I walked very slowly, because the very high heels were difficult to manage with the restraint corset and my arms cuffed behind me. When I reached the front, I turned and faced Jason, though I continued to keep my head bowed.

The minister began.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are hear today to witness the joining together of these two individuals in a binding relationship, born of love and desire. More binding, closer, and more intimate than any mere marriage, this man and woman are to be joined together as man and wife, and as master and slave. Let none here take this lightly, for it is a commitment of the highest order for both Jason and Siobhan.”

He looked at me, and addressed me.

“Please kneel before your master.”

I knelt slowly, trying not to fall over. I kept my head bowed, and looked at Jason’s shoes. The corset dug in to my flesh under my arms, though the cramps in my calves from the high heels left once I was kneeling.

The minister addressed Jason, and had him repeat:

“I, Jason, take you, Siobhan, to be my wife, my slave, my faithful submissive and my love from this day forward. In the presence of our family and friends, I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful and fair master in all things, to train and discipline you, and to care for you as my dear possession. I promise to to treat you fairly, to guide you in my will, and to cherish your submission for as long as we both shall live.”

In turn, I was addressed and repeated my vow:

“I, Siobhan, take you, Jason, to be my husband, my master, my owner and my love from this day forward. In the presence of our family and friends, I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful slave, to obey your will at all times, and submit to your training and discipline to my best ability. I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your goals, to honor and obey, to serve and to cherish you as my master for as long as we both shall live.”

Kneeling in front of people, dressed in white, bound and squeezed, submitting and giving up my freedom to this man before me, I felt like I was about to explode. It was the most incredible feeling of happiness and arousal. I wanted him to take me, ravage me, have his way with me and then discipline me, hurt me, make me suffer for his pleasure, right then. But I took my vow seriously, and knelt before him, awaiting his will.

The minister asked “Do you have the ring?”

Jason answered, “I do.”

The next moment, I felt him reaching down, taking my chin for me to look up. He was reaching down with a circular thin metal ring, about 6 inches in diameter. He slipped it around my neck, and snapped it in to place in the back. It was a slave collar, a thin metal one.

The minister addressed me. “Do you have your ring?”

“Yes, sir.” I felt Elena slip the ring in to the palm of my hand where it was fastened immobile behind my back.

“Stand and place it on his finger.”

I rose obediently, turned around with my back to him so he could give me his hand, and slipped the ring on to his finger. I turned back to him, and for the first time in the ceremony, looked at him full in the face. He was smiling at me with the biggest grin, full of love and and joy and happiness and anticipation. It made me smile as well, grinning and showing him just how wonderful this day was.

“You may… kiss the bride,” said the minister. “Or just about anything else you want to do with her now, I suppose!”

Jason kissed me deeply, and as I melted in his arms I was the happiest I had ever been in my life.

I was his wife, and his slave. He was my husband and my master. We were complete, joined together as we were meant to be. My breathing was fast, my breasts heaving up and down as we turned to the cheers of the guests.

Jason turned to me, connected a leash to my collar, and forced me to my hands and knees. I followed him, crawling behind, as he led me out of the back yard and in to the house.

It was time for the wedding reception and party; followed by the honeymoon.

Which was going to be about as unusual as any that could be imagined.

To Suffer For You

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My wish is to suffer for you.

My wish is to please you by suffering, for in suffering, I can please you completely, proving my devotion.

Many times I have contemplated the nature of suffering. When in your presence, I suffer silently with the small devices you use. When not in your presence, I suffer secure in the knowledge that my suffering is for you and gives you comfort, where ever you are.

My suffering is my offering to you, the fulfillment of my desire to become completely and totally yours. I wish to become an extension of your will, the focus of your lust, an icon symbolic of complete and total love. For this purpose I record my experiences for you. To announce that I am yours, to share my suffering with the world so that my slavery will acquire its full and complete meaning.

To be allowed to serve you in the ultimate way.

To suffer, for you.

Wedding's Eve

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The wedding was the next day. I had anticipated it for so long.

It was three years since I met Jason, and in that time had come to realize just how wonderful he was, how my relationship had opened me. I blossomed in life, grew in my desires, explored new aspects of myself, and finally knew in my heart exactly what I wanted to be.

His slave.

No, not his slave in the traditional sense - not someone that owned me and then put me out to work in the fields without seeing me again. It was not that I wanted to become simply a tool for him.

But I did want to become completely devoted and dedicated to him, so be a part of his body and will, to submit to him completely. In marrying him, I wanted to turn myself over to him and let him take control over me. Nothing would make me happier.

So, the wedding. Tomorrow. It was going to be unusual, as it was a combination wedding and commitment to subservience and the slave/master relationship. Together with several other couples who would observe, I was to turn myself over to Jason. He was to become, officially, my master.

It was Friday and I was trying to get the final bits of work done before leaving on the honeymoon. As director of IT infrastructure for a large company, a number of people worked for me and my responsibilities were extensive. I am a professional woman, held in respect by my colleagues and responsible for significant budgets and projects.

But I was preparing to enter a life of servitude, where I would lose myself, my identity, to someone else. At least… outside the workplace. The excitement and anticipation was almost more than I could bear.

I had already been living with Jason for a year, and had adopted many of the trappings that would become my life. He already dominated me, and I submitted to him at all times. But the wedding tomorrow would cement our relationship, making it legally and psychologically permanent. The feeling of desire for him, for the finality of this step, overwhelmed me and distracted me as I reviewed network layouts, approved specifications, and made recommendations on budgets. All through the day, I felt sexual. I felt aroused. I felt… wet, between my legs.

I talked with one of my leads, listening and making a decision about something, but my eyes were glazed and I was not paying attention. While this step was an emotional one, I felt so incredibly aroused I could not find a comfortable position to sit. I crossed and uncrossed my legs, my lead looking at them (I have rather nice legs) and probably wondering if I was trying to seduce him. At one point, after he left, I actually reached down and touched myself for a little while. I couldn’t help it.

My hand slipped down, trying to find a way to get access to my pussy. I was wearing a skirt, it was too tight to slip my hand in at the waist… and I couldn’t touch myself by reaching up from below. Not without pulling the skirt up, at least. Moments later, and my skirt was hiked up to my hips, and my hand was firmly massaging my clit under my desk. All I could think of was going home to Jason, being bound and taken by him.

Finally, the time came. Things were finished at work, at least enough to hold the dogs at bay until I returned a week later. I got my computer and purse, locked the door to my office and left. The drive home went faster than usual, I guess I had a little lead foot syndrome that evening.

Walking through the door, I dumped my purse and laptop on the side entry table, and walked in. Jason was there, and greeted me with a hug and kiss. His touch was sensual as it always is, and I melted in his arms. We ate dinner together, chatting, both anticipating the events the next day and the glorious honeymoon we had planned. I cleaned up afterward, making sure the house looked good.

When things were ready in the house, Jason took my hand and looked me in the eyes.

“My dear… are you sure about this step? You know I am devoted to you, but by making this commitment you are letting yourself go. Giving yourself to me, completely. Are you ready? Truly ready?” In answer, I kissed him and then knelt in front of him, my head bowed down.

He took my hand and led me lovingly to the basement door. I had no idea what was going on. He opened the door and we descended in to the dimly lit, austere room below the house. He instructed that I was to stand in the middle of the room, and remove all my clothes.

My hips wriggled as the skirt came off, and then my top pulled over my head, my dark hair falling mussed over my shoulders. Nylons were next, and then bra, letting my breasts feel the cool air. Panties were last, and the same sense of cool nakedness spread across my entire body.

He stepped forward, took my clothes and then carefully removed my jewelry. A ring, my watch, and a necklace were all taken from me. I removed my ear rings.

In a few moments, I had shed the trappings of my work persona, and stood completely naked and exposed before him. He looked approvingly for a moment, touched my breasts with a caress, and then picked up a heavy metal collar that was attached by a chain to a ring in the floor. Raising the collar up to my neck he slipped it on, latching it in to place at the same time he kissed my cheek.

My body shuddered with pleasure, just slightly, at the feeling of the cold metal and his warm fingers and lips. I stood motionless as he walked behind me and snapped a padlock in to place. I was now chained to the concrete floor of the basement. My head bowed, my long hair covering my face as I blushed.

“As you may know… it is bad luck for the bride and groom to sleep together before the wedding. I am afraid you will have to remain here tonight. There is a dog dish of water over by the stairs. Sleep well, my most faithful love,” and with that he turned and climbed the stairs. Just before he closed the door at the top, he flipped the light switch off, plunging the room in to darkness.

I trusted Jason, but being alone in the dark, sitting on the cold hard concrete floor, freaked me out a little. I tested the metal collar, and found it heavy and absolutly secure. I pulled the chain, and moved away from it, testing its limits. It was secure in the concrete, and my limits of movement were about 5 feet. I could stand in place just above its anchor, or by lying on the floor extend out about five feet. Enough to reach the water bowl, but not much else.

I lapped water and sat in the dark, my arms on my knees. Without something behind me supporting my back, I was uncomfortable, and lay down on my side, and then on my back. My chain clinked as I moved. I raised my knees. My eyes adjusted to the darkness very slowly, and I could see basic grey shapes, but very little detail.

Laying secured to the ground as I was, naked and exposed on a concrete floor, I felt so completely aroused. I was chained like a dog, but the rest of my body was completely free. So… what did I do? You guessed. My right hand found its way between my legs, and my left started playing with my nipples. I idly masturbated on the floor, passing the time, enhancing and embracing my experience of being restrained in preparation for my wedding the next day.

Three or four orgasms later, I began to drift, and finally feel asleep.

The night passed fitfully. I was used to sleeping in a bed, with Jason next to me. The hard floor, the cold, it made sleep difficult and I woke a number of times. In the middle of the night, I was thirsty… and felt for the dog dish. Of course, in the dark, I bumped in to it and spilled most of the water.

But of more concern were my other bodily needs. I was chained in the middle of the basement without so much as a chamber pot. At that point in time, I really would have liked a chamber pot. I held it for as long as I could, but eventually found a place on the floor as far away from where I was sleeping as possible, and peed.

Afterward, I spread my legs and dragged my pussy on the floor to wipe it. Again, I was forced to behave like a dog.

The feeling of degredation was beginning to sink in. Jason and I had played before, experimented with domination and bondage and I was absolutely sure I wanted to do this. But at the same time… the feeling I was experiencing, the feeling of being naked and helpless and forced to act like an animal, it was new. Powerful. Arousing. Weird.

I returned to my spot on the concrete stretched my legs wide apart and fingered myself to another orgasm before slipping back asleep.

Light was creeping in between the cracks in the door at the top of the stairs, when I awoke. It was morning, and I heard Jason walking around upstairs. I had to pee again, and was deciding what to do when the door opened and Jason entered and descended the stairs. Behind him was Elena, my maid of honor, already dressed for the ceremony. Her dress was a black and white number that showed off her beautiful figure, as well as accenting a perfect complexion.

I moved back to the center of the basement so I could stand, as the chain clinked. Elena knew of the special nature of Jason and my relationship, but had never seen me restricted or bound like this. I stood in complete and abject embarrassment, with my head down, hair hanging over my face.

Jason informed me that the time to prepare for the wedding had come.

“Please sir, I need to pee. May I go to the restroom?”

Jason sniffed, and with a snide voice said, “It appears that you have already soiled your living area. You might was well do it here.”

I looked up at him for a moment, uncertain whether he was serious. But his face told me, yes, he was serious. I moved over to the area where I had peed the night before, and squatted. It was hard, Elena was watching me the entire time, with Jason, and I had to close my eyes to block them out while I forced myself to relax. When it did come, it spread all over the floor and my feet, though the relief was as wonderful as humiliating.

I walked back to the center of the room.

“Well, if you are finished making a mess of yourself, I am going to turn you over to Elena, who will help you get ready for the ceremony,” Jason kissed me on the cheek gently, and then unlocked my collar, letting the chain fall to the floor.

My wedding day had begun.

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Gagged Humiliation

Sunday, January 19, 2014 | 0 comments


I had done something wrong; nagged a little too much, or complained, or criticized. I am a devoted and obedient slave so I don't want to explore my misbehavior; it is always humiliating to review in my mind. The result of my misbehavior was that Jason decided to punish me using a gag.

Gags fall into the category of restraints that I love to hate. They are so humiliating. They make a statement about how I am being controlled. They communicate something to me and to those who can see me. They can be simply uncomfortable or downright painful.

On the other hand, Jason loves gags. On me, of course. He has slowly been acquiring a growing set of gags. Ball gags, whiffle gags, cleave gags, ring gags, penis gags, dental spreaders, pony bits, and so on. Each one has a purpose, a situation, a use. Each is targeted to have a specific effect on me, to produce a reaction, to communicate a discipline or to convey a feeling.

Very few gags are actually designed to keep me quiet, per se. They can interfere with speech and even muffle sound a little, but most gags don't prevent me from making noise (a lot of it if I am in pain), or speaking (though I may have to work a little to be understood).

Our neighbors across the street, Steve and Diane, have joined us at times for play. They do not live the complete D/s lifestyle as Jason and I do, but we did inspire them to try a few things and they seem to enjoy it. I enjoy when they join us, because with another couple things are simply more interesting. I am bisexual and Diane is a very pretty woman in her mid-30s, and Steve is a fit and attractive man.

A couple of weeks ago we were invited over to Steve and Diane's for dinner and an evening of whatever. It had been a while since we had seen them so it was exciting for me. I wanted to dress up a bit and make the evening nice. I wore a nice dress that showed off my body without being too inappropriate, and a few nice items of jewelry. I placed my favorite sapphire pendant on my slave collar. When it was time to walk across the street to their house, Jason stopped me inside the front door and told me to turn around and open my mouth. I did as he requested, and he slipped a ring gag into my mouth.


Ring gags aren't designed to silence you at all. They have several basic effects. First, they allow you to make all the noise you want, but clear speech is near impossible. Second, they hurt, depending on how big they are, because your jaw is held open wide and after a while the muscles and tendons in your jaw get very tired of being stretched. Lastly, and at times the worst, they stimulate the inside of you mouth, making you drool uncontrollably. Going over to our neighbors gagged like this was going to be humiliating.

Jason pulled the gag tight, making sure it was securely in place, and buckled it behind my head. It secured with a very small lock and would be impossible to slip off. I leaned forward and bumped my forehead against the wall in frustration, realizing that the evening was going to have some very embarrassing and unpleasant elements to it.

"Stand up and make me proud, now, Siobhan," Jason patted my ass, and I did as I was told. We walked across the street and knocked at our neighbor's door.

"Welcome! Ah, Siobhan, I see you are under a bit of restraint tonight. That's OK, we will do just fine," Steve was cordial as he invited us in. Diane came out to greet us from the kitchen, saw what I was wearing, and her face took on a look of empathy. I flushed bright red with embarrassment, but forged ahead. Following Diane into the kitchen to help her finish preparing the meal, I hung my head.

"What happened, Siobhan? Is he punishing you? Or just being a little cruel? I know Jason can take pleasure out of disciplining you for little reason. Though I have to say I think you will sometimes push the envelope a little because you do like it." Diane was sympathetic. She was submissive to Steve, though only during scenes.

I shrugged. Trying to talk in a ring gag is really hard, harder than most other kinds of gags. We brought the food out to the table and sat down.



As the food was passed and dished out I suddenly realized that I wasn't going to be able to eat. A wave of complete humiliation came over me again. I must have flushed bright red because Jason noticed and said, "Don't worry Siobhan, I am sure there are things here you will be able to eat. Just do the best you can."

Tears trickled down my cheeks, not from pain but from the shear embarrassment of my situation. I was being publicly punished and forced to eat a nice dinner while wearing a ring gag that made it completely impossible to eat. It was going to be near impossible to drink, as well. I lowered my head and let my hair fall in front of my face, trying to hide myself.

"Raise your head, be polite Siobhan. Why don't you start by telling Steve and Diane why you are wearing the gag?" Jason took a big bite of lasagna. All eyes turned toward me.

"I awk ack ooo ason..." I said as clearly as I could. I could see Diane was embarrassed for me, which somehow made me feel worse. Steve nodded, and dug into his food.

My jaw was beginning to hurt. The gag was a big one, holding my jaw wide open. The muscles at the back of my jaw were stretched and beginning to cramp. I decided to try and eat a tiny bit of lasagna; it was soft and I thought I might be able to handle it.

I slipped the bit of tomato sauce covered pasta into my mouth, leaning my head back to keep it from falling out. Moving my tongue around slowly smashed the pasta to the point where I could swallow, but it was impossible to do so. It is very difficult to swallow when wearing a ring gag. I tilted my head back, poured a little water into my mouth and tried to make the food go down. At first I thought it was working but then I choked. Water bubbled up and over my chin. I managed to get the food down, but the experiment wasn't encouraging.

The others were talking, and I was sitting pretending to be part of the group, but unable to participate. I felt terribly alone.

"Tell us about your new project, Siobhan. I hear you are bolstering security there." Steve was either being naive in asking me to talk, or deliberately cruel.

"Talk to Steve, Siobhan," Jason prompted.

I raised my head and did my best. "Eee haa a uuu i hi... inter...erance ecknology ee are de loying..."

I spoke slowly and deliberately. When I was finished, I broke into silent tears. I doubt if anyone had understood more than a tenth of what I had said. The only reason to have me speak was to force me to demonstrate my shameful condition.

After that episode, my drooling became uncontrollable. The ring was stimulating the inside of my mouth, making it think there was food there that needed to be chewed and digested. Saliva gathered in my mouth and began dribbling over onto my chin. I used my napkin to wipe, over and over again, but it was obvious what was happening.

I had one sip of wine, one small piece of lasagna, and nothing else during the dinner. When it was over, I helped clear the table and then Diane and I joined the men in the living room, bringing them coffee. My jaw was throbbing by now. It was incredible how one small restraint device such as a ring gag had caused me such humiliation and discomfort.

After a half hour or so, the talk between the men and Diane turned to sensual topics. Steve described the latest scene he and Diane had created; Diane indicated she enjoyed it a lot except for some clamps that had cut the skin and left marks. I was saying nothing, simply sitting and listening, trying to keep from drooling all over my nice dress.

"Siobhan, I know you can't participate much in the conversation, but perhaps you can find some way to be a part of the group," Jason said. I looked at him miserably, not knowing what he had in mind.

"If you can't talk, maybe you can provide some other form of stimulation for the company."

Oh. Now I understood. Slowly, I slid down from my chair and onto my knees in front of Jason.

"No, let's take care of our good host, first."

Drool dripping from my chin as I moved over in front of Steve. This would be the third time I had given Steve a blow job. Steve unzipped and pulled out his semi-flaccid cock. Maneuvering my head down, I managed to get it into my mouth and began a slow but steady back and forth motion. I couldn't use my lips, but my tongue was free and I did my best. It took about a minute and Steve was rock hard, his cock sliding down my throat.


"She has really learned to deep throat it, hasn't she?" Steve panted as I moved back and forth in front of him.

"Yep. I have trained her myself, gradually, in a number of areas. I am proud of how she is growing," Jason answered him. "Put your hands behind your back, Siobhan."

I kept my hands clasped behind me while Jason and Diane watched as I continued to shove my head down on Steve's cock, letting my tongue and throat slide over his hard, engorged flesh. A few minutes later I felt him tense and suddenly pull out. I closed my eyes, knowing what was coming. Hot, slimy fluid suddenly shot over my face, getting into my hair and even up one nostril.

I sat back on my heels and waited for further instructions as Steve wiped himself clean and zipped up.  His semen very slowly slid down my face. Finally, I shifted over to where Jason sat, offering my wide open mouth to him.

"No, no, Siobhan. Not just now. Please provide some entertainment for Diane. I am sure she worked very hard on the wonderful meal tonight."

I wasn't sure how Diane felt about this, but I knew it would be easier for me. Diane unzipped her pants and pulled them down around her ankles, spreading her knees and exposed herself for me. I reached up and pulled her panties down, and then used my tongue to begin exploring her soft folds of flesh. She tasted good, better than Steve. I knew how to make her feel good, and in no time she was moaning and panting as the guys watched her writhe under my ministrations. She came loudly, grabbing my head.

When it was over, Diane looked down at me with a bit of embarrassment herself. I knew she felt like she had used me and contributed to my debasement. I knew she was merely following Steve's wishes and frankly, I enjoyed every minute I had with her. I didn't get to play with women nearly often enough and I had a bit of a crush on Diane.

The rest of the evening was calm. Jason never had me do him, instead the others talked a while and then Jason excused us and we walked back across the street to our own house. Steve's semen was dried on my face, so when I got back inside the house I went to wash it off. I came back out of the bathroom, removed my clothes and presented myself to Jason to have the gag removed.


"We aren't done quite yet, Siobhan. Kneel." Jason was sitting on the sofa, and I knelt before him, reached out and unzipped him and pulled out his large, throbbing member. He wrapped his hands around my head and plunged deep.

Steve had been polite; I wasn't his property, I was Jason's, and he didn't abuse the privilege of having me suck him off. Jason went at it like an animal, pushing his cock as deeply down my throat as he could. His balls pressed against my chin and my nose smashed against his abdomen.

I have practiced deep throating, but it is still difficult. I choked as the rod of flesh filled my throat, pressing my tonsils and uvula. Jason pulled most of the way out, allowing me a breath as he let my lips surround the head of his penis, and then pushed in again, all the way. I choked again and couldn't breathe. My stomach was reacting, automatically trying to churn up it's contents (thank goodness I hadn't eaten anything).  As he pulled out again, a little slime from my stomach came up.

In mid-gasp, Jason plunged in again, not giving me time for a full breath.

He continued to face fuck me like this, pushing me to my limits. I gasped for breath each time he allowed it, but I struggled in place. I couldn't help it, my body was beginning to cry out for air and vomit kept rising to my throat. Jason stopped for a moment, took a pair of handcuffs from a drawer in a side table, and cuffed my wrists behind my back. He then slid into my mouth again through the ring gag and continued, holding my head firmly, pushing in and out, his cock sliding well down my throat.

Tears streamed down my face and slime dripped from my mouth and nose, a mixture of snot and vomit. Breathing was a luxury, to be grasped as quickly as possible. He pounded away, pushing in and out, sometimes deeper, sometimes pulling out to allow my tongue to stimulate his cock head. I did the best I could but I had basically been reduced to a piece of meat with a hole and breasts bouncing to his thrusts.

Just when I thought I would pass out, he pushed deep and his cock pulsed in my mouth as his semen pumped out and down my throat. I didn't have to swallow, my throat was held open and the cum slid down easily.

He pulled out, and I gasped for air. When he let go of my head, I simply slumped over and then lay on my side on the carpet, trying to catch my breath.

Finally, he unlocked the cuffs, and removed the gag. He was tender with me. I had been punished, and taken it like the good whore slave I was. I was proud to have gotten through it, and rested my head on his lap as he stroked my hair.

Later that night we took a shower together to clean up, playing intimately and enjoying each other's bodies. I slept safe in his arms, content that I was his.

 
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