Slave Girl

by Claire Thompson

  Chapter Three

  The Contract

  Master/slave Contract Between Barry Lennon and Jill Adams Lennon

  1. I, Jill, hereinafter referred to as slave girl, agree to submit completely to my husband, owner and master, Barry, in all ways. There is no situation where I will refuse to obey a directive without risking punishment.

  1.1 My body belongs to my master, to be used as he sees fit. I hereby acknowledge that I exist solely to please my master. I will not touch this body in a sexual way without his express consent and permission. To do so is to invite swift punishment. I recognize that the paramount duty of a slave is honesty. If I don't understand why something is being done to me, I will say so. I will always inform my master of my thoughts and feelings. I will never resist my master's advances, or anything else he chooses to do to me. I may inform my master if I am unwell, or if there is some other reason my master's wishes might best be temporarily delayed, but the decision will ultimately be made by him.

  1.2 I will not sit on chairs or other furniture in my master's presence without permission. After the initial training period, I may come and go as I please unless I have been ordered otherwise. I may ask to be dismissed, but must give a reason for the request. When approaching my master, I am required to kneel sitting on my heels, legs open, hands on thighs, unless for social reasons this would be inappropriate.

  1.3 I agree to accept any punishment my master decides to inflict, whether I perceive it to be ‘earned’ or not. If I am to be punished, I must obey instantly and without question, unless I do not understand what I am to do.

  1.4 I will not seek any other master or lover or relate to others in any sexual or submissive way without my master's express permission. To do so will be considered a breach of contract, and will result in extreme punishment.

  2. I, Barry, accept the responsibility for my slave girl's body, safety and well being. I agree to care for, provide for, train, punish, love and use my slave girl as I see fit.

  2.1 My slave girl may sometimes disobey or be insolent and then must be punished. This, of course, is the master's privilege and his duty, for if a slave is not corrected, she will not improve. When I choose to punish my slave girl, I will tell her why she is to be punished and how. I will punish my slave girl in any way I see fit. She may be bound to remind her of her helplessness before me, or she may be ordered to hold a position to teach her obedience. I promise not to inflict bodily harm, or permanently damage my slave girl.

  2.2 If I so choose, I may accept other slaves or lovers, but must consider my slave girl's emotional response to such actions and act accordingly.

  2.3 I may give my slave to other Dominants, provided that the rules of this contract are upheld. In such a situation, I will inform the new master of the provisions stated herein, and any breach by the new master will be considered a breach by me as well, subject to all rules stated in this contract.

  3. This contract may not be altered, except when both master and slave agree. If the contract is altered, the new contract shall be printed and signed, and then the old contract must be destroyed.

  4. Termination of Contract—This contract may be terminated at any time by the master, but never by the slave girl.

  5. slave girl's signature

  I have read and fully understand this contract in its entirety. I agree to accept his claim of ownership over my body. I understand that I will be commanded, trained and punished as a slave, and I promise to be true and to fulfill the pleasures and desires of my master to the best of my abilities. I understand that I cannot withdraw from this contract unless I wish to terminate my relationship with my master.

  Signature:____________

  6. Master's Signature

  I have read and fully understand this contract in its entirety. I agree to accept this slave as my property, and to care for her to the best of my ability. I shall provide for her security and well-being and command her, train her, and punish her as a slave. I understand the responsibility implicit in this arrangement, and agree that no harm shall come to the slave as long as she is mine.

  Signature:

  Jill sat staring at the document in her hands. She had read it through quickly, her hands trembling. Her first impulse, her gut reaction, was to tear it up. How dare he demand that she completely give her body and trust to him so completely! Never touch herself without ‘express consent and permission'—it was ridiculous! And that part about existing solely to please her master. What was that about? She understood about ‘serving;’ it was sexy to kneel naked and make your man go crazy with pleasure, but solely to please him?

  She sat still, thinking more about it. Could it be that a submissive's pleasure derived from that service? That she did achieve great pleasure and satisfaction from fulfilling her master's wishes, from suffering for him, or pleasing him as he saw fit? She had read about this online, but now it was all happening so fast!

  And yet ... And yet she didn't tear it up. She started to read it again, slowly this time. And as she held the sheet of paper, she became aware of her pussy beginning to throb again. He had, after all, brought her so close to the edge with his French kisses, but hadn't let her come! She let her hand trail down, and she spread her legs on the couch for easier access to her naked sex.

  Section 2.1 kept drawing her eye. Her fingers found her wet cunt, and she began to massage it as she read the words that she had to admit inflamed her imagination: “My slave girl may sometimes disobey or be insolent and then must be punished ... I will punish my slave girl in any way I see fit. She may be bound to remind her of her helplessness before me, or she may be ordered to hold a position to teach her obedience.” Something about these words deeply excited her. To be bound and helpless, or forced to maintain a ‘position'. It seemed like something from another world, a secret fantasy world where naked pampered slave girls were kept in harems and brought out in silky gowns to dance for their masters. A dream. He was offering her a dream.

  Did he really mean it? This was so unlike the Barry she knew. Though when she really stopped to think about it, beneath the always polite and solicitous exterior, Barry was really a very competitive man, and one who knew what he wanted and went after it. She recalled his relentless pursuit in getting her to marry him. And it had worked, after all. She was Mrs. Barry Lennon.

  Or was she. He had told her she wasn't his wife anymore. Just his cunt (she shuddered slightly at the word, even though it was just a silent echo in her own mind), his whore, his slave girl. Then she stopped thinking, stopped analyzing, as her fingers brought her closer to the edge of much needed release. The contract fell with a flutter to the floor as Jill cried out softly, sitting naked and alone on her sofa, coming and coming as if this were her last chance.

  * * * *

  Barry hadn't called, and didn't get home that evening until after 9:00. Jill was sitting in bed, reading a book. She was wearing the pink camisole that he liked so much, her nipples jutting prettily against the satin. She had been engrossed in her novel, and she jumped slightly when he entered the bedroom. “Oh! Barry, I didn't hear you come in!"

  "So I see.” Barry went to his bureau, removing his tie and undoing his cuff links. He hung his jacket neatly in the closet and came to sit next to her on the bed. They kissed for a moment and then he sat back, appraising her. “Well?"

  "What?” Jill asked, though she knew.

  "Did you read it?"

  "Yes."

  "And? How did it make you feel?"

  Jill bit her lip, and then looked up through her long lashes. “Lots of ways. Hard to explain."

  "Try me."

  "Well, excited. Nervous. Frightened."

  "Frightened? In what way?” Gently he touched her arm.

  "Well, like, can I live up to all that stuff? Always obeying, never questioning, accepting punishment. My God, punishment! I mean, I know you've punished me because of what I did with those guys. I mean...” She stopped, flustered, regretting having reminded him of her transgressions.r />
  "Listen Jill, a contract, this contract, is a loosely drawn up document designed to outline parameters. It isn't a bible. It's an idea, really. The idea that you submit to me, and I take care of you. It's called a voluntary exchange of power. And it's not non-negotiable either. If there are things you simply cannot tolerate, you tell me. You talk to me. You explain what's bothering you and we work through it."

  "Well, what about safe words?” Jill had learned about safe words online. Other submissives told her she had to have a ‘safe word’ in case play became too intense, and her master was taking her too far. Barry had also heard about safe words.

  "Safe words are for games, Jill; for ‘scenes.’ Safe words are for people who don't know each other very well and don't trust each other very much. If you're concerned that you might not be able to tolerate something I'm doing—that it hurts too much or might compromise you in some way, you say, ‘stop,’ or ‘I don't like that.’ And I'll listen to you. That doesn't necessarily mean I'll stop. But it means I'll listen and decide if I agree with you, and if I do, I'll change what I'm doing. I love you. I would never do something that I didn't think was in your best interest. But this isn't a game. And you should understand that. If you sign, you'll be giving yourself to me. Body and soul. You will be relinquishing control. And I know that isn't easy in the ‘real world.’ But it's something I want. And if it's something you want, I promise you that you will be the most loved and cherished woman on this planet."

  She started to speak, but he muffled her words with his own mouth, as he kissed her. She responded, ardently, and his hand slipped down under the covers, sliding over her silky smooth thighs to the hot little center of her. Gently he pressed her legs apart, still kissing her mouth. His fingers slipped past the satin shorts to her bare already wet pussy. They probed and teased, making her moan with pleasure through his kiss. His other hand found her nipple, and he pulled and tugged it, causing it to harden. His grip hardened and he twisted, still kissing her mouth, still fondling and teasing her pussy.

  Jill fell back against the pillows and Barry leaned into her, still controlling her body with his relentless hands and mouth. He felt her heart beating against him. He felt her pussy lips swelling, wet and hot, and he gave another rough twist to her nipple, making her cry out, though the cry was still muffled by his mouth on hers. She started to tremble and jerk uncontrollably, her pelvis thrusting and then pulling away from his fingers, which wouldn't let her go. And still he kissed her, his tongue deep in her mouth, forcing it open, licking her, tasting her, dominating her. Her soft mewling moans were punctuated by her rapid breathing. He felt her stiffen suddenly, and then spasms wracked her body and her moans turned to a squeal.

  At last he let go of her, and she fell back, disheveled, her lustrous dark hair wild over the pillow, her cheeks flushed, her thighs fallen open like the petals of a crushed flower. Slowly she opened her eyes, which were full of adoration. “I want to,” she whispered.

  He leaned forward to hear her. “What, Jill? I couldn't hear you."

  "I want to. I want to sign. I want to be your slave girl."

  Chapter Four

  Training

  Barry had almost never taken a vacation from his burgeoning law practice. He had accumulated months of time. For the first time in his life something was more important than his work, and as a result, he decided to take a month off. A leave, as he explained to his bosses, because his wife needed him. He intimated that she was ill, and possible surgery was in the offing. They were concerned, solicitous and very supportive. He got his month.

  The guest bedroom was fitted with the latest toys from the bondage boutiques. Barry loved to buy toys, and soon the room was filled with equipment that would rival any professional torture chamber. Jill was at once fascinated and a little afraid, gasping in surprise each time he unveiled the latest item, which would certainly be used on her later that day or evening.

  Today, several weeks into her training, found Jill naked and tethered to a gynecologist's exam table. Her bottom rested on the edge of the table, with her feet tied in the stirrups. Barry had thoughtfully placed bootie socks over the cold metal of the stirrups. Her arms were tied under the table, secured by rope. There was also a rope around her neck, which prevented her from raising her head.

  Master and slave had developed a sort of routine over the weeks. Jill had never spent so much time with Barry, and had it been like before, in the ‘vanilla’ days, as she thought of them, she would have been dying to get away from him. But now she literally lived to please him; to be with him, to experience the endless variety of pleasure and torture he continued to concoct.

  She was to awaken her master each morning by kissing his balls and licking his asshole. She wasn't to touch his cock until it was fully erect, and then only with his permission. “You don't deserve my cock,” he would tell her. “You belong in two places: at my feet or with your tongue up my ass. You do know that, don't you, whore?” And even as her face would burn with shame at his words, she would nod. He would smile with satisfaction, and point to his ass. She always scrambled to obey, thrusting her tongue as deep as she could, and then kissing the little puckered hole.

  It was humiliating and degrading, and yet the lovely paradox of it was that she adored it. She thought of it as ‘delicious humiliation.’ She came to crave it. She would wake up and, remembering her first duty, begin to kiss and fondle her darling husband until at last he gave her permission to suck his lovely hard cock. Sometimes he would come in her mouth. Other times he would spurt on her face and breasts. She loved it all.

  Her first whipping had terrified her, but then she found it wasn't nearly as bad as she feared. Oh, it hurt, make no mistake, but the sting was certainly tolerable, and just like the spankings, it seemed to transmute itself to almost unbearable pleasure. Using hooks he had secured over the closet door, Barry would tie Jill's hands up over her head, securing them to the hook by her wrist cuffs. Sometimes he would secure her legs, forcing them far apart with a spreader bar and locking her slim ankles into place. Other times he would leave her legs free, especially when he wanted to test her discipline.

  Barry would start slowly, just whipping her round ass for a while, never too hard. Gradually he would hit her harder, loving the sight of her bottom turning from white to pink to red. Then he would add a stroke to her back, to her thighs. She always jerked forward when he first did this, and gasped.

  "Stay still,” he would admonish her. He liked to force her to remain as still as possible while he slowly ratcheted up the torture, hitting a little harder, a little faster, slowly building up her toleration for the pain. He would stop midway, often, and pull her back by her hair, so that he could kiss her. He would fondle and tickle her cunt, pinching the lips and making her moan. When he felt her hot and wet against him, trying to fuck herself on his hand like the slut she was, he would laugh, pull back and begin to beat her again.

  This would go on until she could no longer stay still, despite his orders not to move. She would be jumping and writhing, trying anything to get away from the lash. When she lost control like this, he would hit her hard, telling her she had no discipline. He would whip her until she sagged, covered in sweat, defeated at last by exhaustion.

  Only then would he let her down. Sometimes he would carry her to the bed and make gentle love to her. Other times he might force her to her knees, so he could thrust his cock down her throat. No matter what he did, or how rough he was, or how much she cried, afterwards she always had that same puppy dog face, as he thought of it. She would look at him with big eyes full of unmasked adoration and kiss him over and over, little butterfly kisses all over his body, while she whispered how much she loved him.

  Because she was such a willing slave girl, so eager to please, and because Barry was a driven sort of man, who liked to take things to excess, he began to experiment further than he might have gone if she had been more reluctant. He was, he supposed, looking for her limits. And today, as she lay tied
to the table, legs lewdly spread and bound open, he planned to stretch those limits a bit further.

  She was alone in the room. Barry liked to bind her and then leave her a while to contemplate her fate. Invariably when he returned after a few minutes, she was wet and breathing in the deep, slow way she had developed when entering what his friend Paul called ‘sub headspace.’ Today was no exception. She turned to look at him, her lips parted, her eyes blazing. Barry walked over to her and without warning slapped her face, hard. Jill jerked her head, which caused the rope around her neck to tighten, forcing her head back to its original position, eyes to the ceiling.

  Barry appraised her calmly, feeling his cock rise as usual as he took in the lovely sight of his bound and helpless slave girl. He especially liked the look of the white rope against her fragile throat. The cheek he had struck was flushed. He liked symmetry, so he slapped the other cheek and Jill cried out, but this time didn't jerk her head. She was a quick learner. He smiled lazily, and took out a long thick piece of silk. “Open wide, baby,” he said, pressing the gag against her mouth until Jill parted her lips. He tied it tightly, forcing a wad of the fabric back into her mouth, to further muffle her cries. Once it was secure, he tightened the rope around her pretty throat, so that movement was even more limited.

  He touched her chest above one heaving breast, and felt her heart pounding. His hand moved slowly down to the nipple that was already erect and eager for his touch. He pinched it, hard, till she moaned in her gag. He loved how easily he could arouse his slut of a slave girl. She was becoming so sensitized to his touch, to his command, that he could literally make her wet with just a whisper or a gesture. He would point to the floor at his feet and she would hurry to kneel in front of him, legs spread, hands on her thighs, as he had taught her. He would reach down and feel her throbbing pussy, always wet, always available to him.