I wasn’t to know then that Rosalind had already arranged with Louise for me to be "loaned" to her on a regular basis for cleaning duties and for more sexual experimentation. I didn’t like the hard-faced Rosalind at our first meeting, but after a few visits to her hideaway country house in a converted barn, I grew to respect her and even like her. In her fifties, she had a natural elegance and charm you rarely find in people these days, especially in the younger generation, and I found myself captivated by her upper class voice and bearing.
When my husband and Louise eventually disbanded our little ménage-a-trois a few weeks later, and literally kicked me out of the house into the street, Ros, as I later called her, was my first port of call. By then she already had a full time submissive living with her, a divorcee in her forties, but she welcomed me into the fold and I soon settled into the routine with Carol, the other sub.
My empty cold room at home had been a palace compared with Carol’s sleeping quarters. She slept outside in a brick shed, which had once been used to store coal. After arriving at Ros’ her clothing had been removed and destroyed and she had been made to clear it out and scrub it clean of coal dust and cobwebs. Ros had given her a very narrow metal single bed, and cemented a chain into the brickwork so that Carol could be secured at night. The shed had one tiny window in it and no electricity, so for many hours at a time she was chained up in complete darkness with just a couple of thin blankets and a sheet to keep warm.
My first few nights were spent with Carol in the shed, both of us squeezing into the bed and cuddling up for warmth. Carol told me she wasn’t lesbian or bi-sexual, but we felt comfortable squeezed tightly together and a few nights later we did make love, me taking advantage of her chained wrists and introducing her to girlie sex. This was fortunate because a few days after that Ros demanded that we perform in front of her on the floor of her living room, sometimes using a thin cane on us as we fucked.
Ros gave us both regular punishments with her broad brown leather belt, and a selection of thin garden canes. I enjoyed watching Carol get beaten, as Ros seemed to use excessive force on her, and Carol’s screams were a turn-on for me. With me, Ros was more subtle, and aimed at more sensitive areas of my body which I enjoyed, and Carol stared wide-eyed and wet between the legs as each strike hit its target to good effect.
Carol never slept with Ros at all, but I did make love to Ros in her bed quite a lot. After sex, Ros would make me lie on the outside of the covers, or sometimes on the floor next to her with no covers. She would always be the first to wake up in the morning and my alarm call was always a hard slap on the bottom to snap me out of my dreams and get me scurrying to the kitchen to make her morning coffee.
Carol and I both indulged Ros’ passion for anal exploration, and we would often both be bent over while Ros inserted various objects inside us. This sometimes went on for a few hours, and often she’d leave us "plugged" and tied up in front of her while she relaxed in front of the television to watch a film and have a glass of sherry or cup of tea in silence. Any sound or movement from us, she would give us a cold icy stare and follow it up with a few corrective slaps from her hand.
The ultimate joy for her was a "double plugging", when she used an extra long flexible dildo and inserted into both of us at the same time, pushing the ends in inch by inch into our bottoms until we were gasping, the aim eventually was to get both our bottom cheeks touching each other back to back. This never happened of course because the dildo was far too long, but it didn’t stop her trying, usually stopping when Carol and I were in floods of tears and shrieking with pain.
I went to the doctor’s a while later and had to have stitches to repair some of the damage done to my bottom. Parts had been torn and cut inside and it put me off anal sex for a while. It didn’t put me off altogether though, and whether I am with a man or a woman now I still want to feel either a hard cock or a sex toy pushing into my bottom, more so than in my vagina. I must have a g-spot up there because done properly it makes me come like nothing else. Ros was not always as careful and caring as she should have been, and this resulted in the damage.
The first weekend that my husband, Jake, arrived home to Louise and me, he was blissfully unaware that I was now Louise’s slave. He dumped his case in the hall and walked into the living room to find Louise sitting dressed in a leather catsuit and high heeled ankle boots, and me standing next to her in the nude, wearing patent leather high heels and a dog chain around my neck attached to a leather lead, the end of which was tightly grasped in Louise’s hand.
Jake was speechless and almost collapsed into an armchair as he took in the sight before him. Louise smiled and stood up, leading me behind her and kissing Jake.
"There have been a few changes since you’ve been away. Sarah is now my slave and does exactly what I tell her. Bend over cunt," she seethed at me.
I dutifully bent over for her and she slapped my bottom with her hand three times before allowing me up.
Jake was smiling and the front of his trousers moved outwards involuntarily as he grabbed Louise around the waist and pulled her onto his lap. Louise released her grip on the lead and ordered me to go to the kitchen and fetch refreshments.
I returned with a tray containing two large tumblers of gin and tonic with ice and lemon, and on the side of the tray, Louise’s riding crop. I stood dutifully as each removed a glass, and Louise picked up the crop.
She downed her drink quickly and stood up, ushering me to lean over the back of a dining chair. She produced a pack of cards and asked Jake to pick three at random, placing them face down on the coffee table.
She turned the first card over, a seven, and informed me that I was to receive seven slaps with her hand. She adopted my favourite punishment position and put her left hand on my pubis with her fingers between my legs, pushing into me as she slapped hard with her right hand. It felt good and it was over far too quickly.
The second card was flipped over, a five, and she informed me that I would receive five strokes of the crop. Not as enjoyable as her hand but I chewed at my bottom lip as each stoke landed sending, the pain turning to a glow of satisfaction as the after burn slowly disappeared.
The last card was turned over, a four. ‘Thank goodness,’ I thought, ‘four strokes only.’
Louise straightened me up and told me to run upstairs and fetch the belt and her alarm clock.
I came back down, and was too sheepish to look at Jake in the eye, but I’d noticed that Louise had already had his cock out in her hands, and he was excited to say the least.
I bent over the chair again, this time facing the fireplace. Louise told me that the last card meant four minutes with the belt, and put the analogue alarm clock on the mantelpiece so I could see the seconds tick slowly by.
I watched as stroke after rapid stroke hit my bottom. For good measure she caught the tip a few times on my thighs and between my legs, and I continued watching the clock as instructed. It started to feel good, and I wanted her to do it harder, but the next stroke was too hard, and made me wince and I wriggled my hips at the stinging pain.
The alarm went off and Louise stopped immediately, switching the noise off. I was about to straighten up when Jake grabbed me from behind and the next thing I felt was his cock entering my bottom. He pushed hard and it slid in easily, and he grabbed my breasts and pumped vigorously from behind. Louise, standing in front of me smiled and kissed me lovingly on the mouth as Jake fucked me harder and harder. He came quickly, and I could feel the spurting semen inside me, and as he withdrew, it ran down my bottom and down my thighs.
Afterwards I was ushered out of the room by Louise and told to make myself a drink in the kitchen. She shut the kitchen door behind, and I sat exhausted on a kitchen stool and made myself some orange juice.
The whole of the weekend was Louise showing off to Jake, and me being humiliated, whipped and abused, scrubbing floors on my knees, even cleaning Louise’s boots while she was wearing them, seated on the coffee taking as she put each foot in turn in-between my legs and pushed the heel into me. I enjoyed every minute, and Jake was reluctant to return to work the following Monday morning having spent the previous two nights in bed with both of us.
The following week Louise eased off on the punishments, and it was as if she was getting bored. She even came home with some dresses for me so that we could go out together to the cinema or for a drink.
I’m a size 12 and the dresses were tiny 10s, very short and with low cut necklines. I struggled into one of them and the hem rode high up my thighs, and my breasts almost popped out of the thing. This was perfect for Louise, and again she made me get made up like a cheap whore and wear the dress with no bra or panties, not even a coat, as we walked into town to a trendy bar.
I sat on a bar stool as instructed, and the short dress exposed my thighs and bottom. Louise sat ten feet away at a table and watched as man after man approached me to by me a drink, which I politely refused. Some of the men would put a hand on my thigh, or offer me something other than drink. Others just stared at my exposed flesh and grinned. Getting off the stool to visit the toilet was an ordeal as the dress rose higher, briefly exposing my shaved pussy to the gawking onlookers.
Walking home in the rain later that evening, we were half a mile from the house on a quiet stretch of road when Louise stopped.
"That dress doesn’t suit you take it off!"
I couldn’t believe it as she started pulling it up and over my head leaving me nude on the street. We carried on walking, but very slowly now, and she walked behind me and asked me to wiggle my bottom like a slut.
The streets were deserted because of the weather, and we made it home without anyone seeing me. Not that I would have minded that much, because exposing myself in front of her friends a few days before had given me a taste for it which I still have now. I spend most of my time naked nowadays, and if anyone comes to the door, or a friend pops round I hardly ever cover up.
I went to a New Year’s party last year as Eve, and a friend of mine painted a very convincing fig leaf on to my shaven area. I arrived in just a coat and high heels and took it off as soon as I got there and spent a blissful evening stark naked amongst seventy or eighty other guests. I was groped, touched up and propositioned by several men and women, including the hostess who wanted me to stay the night!
I also prefer being nude outside as well, and I will often walk early in the morning on a beach or in woods au natural. One mistress I had recently used to walk me with a collar and leash, standing upright, walking through the forest early in the morning, summer and winter! I would leave my clothes in her car and on a couple of occasions she left me there and drove off, returning after an hour or so to take me home again.