Moth to the Flame PT6B
By: sfmaster - Published: 27th May, 2017
WARNING! This story is only for adults over the age of 18 and contains Strong Sexual Content. It is intended as a work of fiction for ADULTS only, and the author does not in any way condone similar behavior.
If you are under the age or 18 or reside in a state, nation, or planet that prohibits such behavior, stop reading immediately!!!
“Moth to the Flame PT6B”
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“Moth to the Flame PT6B” by mailto:email@example.com
I sat naked on the toilet as Mistress Lois filled the small sink with warm soapy water, and soaked a wash cloth in the sink.
“You’re doing very well, Annette,” Lois said to me.
“Thank you, Mistress,” I answered.
I could not believe that the reason that I had been taken down was that so I could be cleaned up and refreshed so that I could receive even more punishment.
“Hold still, darling.”
I welcomed the wash cloth with it’s soothing warmth as Lois gently cleaned my body of the sweat that had accumulated as I had been cropped and paddled.
“How do you feel?” Lois asked.
“All right, Mistress,” I replied.
Lois tenderly washed my body, and motioned for me to stand up. She washed the insides of my thighs and between my legs, and carefully cleaned my sex.
“You’re very brave Annette to accept such punishment,” Lois stated.
“I’ve been well trained, Mistress.”
“Why don’t you run upstairs, grab your clothes, and never see me again?”
“Because I’m a slave, Mistress. Your slave. I crave the bracelets and collar, and especially the feel of the lash upon my skin,” I answered.
“And if I told you to leave and never come back?”
“Then I’d find another Mistress to put me in chains. I’m sure that your three guests would love to have me as their slave.”
“Yes they would,” Lois agreed.
“Yes, Mistress,” I answered.
By then, Lois had cleaned me off, and was now toweling me dry. Looking at myself in the mirror, I was amazed at the lines that the crop had left, and I could feel the soreness of my bottom. I was one well punished slave, and I was going to get a second helping this evening.
“You could always call your safeword,” Lois suggested.
“No, Mistress. I didn’t call it with Colleen, and I see no reason to call it tonight either.”
“Katrina is sure to use the whip on you.”
“I’ve been whipped before Mistress,” I answered.
“There would be no shame in stopping.”
“Yes there would! I would be embarrassing you in front of your friends, Mistress,” I pointed out to her.
“You’re a painslut,” Lois told me, “a slave who craves being punished.”
“Perhaps, Mistress. But as you said to your friends, it was I who sought you out to become a slave.”
“Yes,” she answered, “yes you did.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
“We had better get outside – Katrina will be waiting.”
Why had Lois express such concern for me? Did she mean to spare me a whipping? Or else had she fallen in love with me? How else to explain her consideration for my hide?
As before, my hands were locked behind my back, and a leash led me pulled by Lois. I followed obediently behind her in silence.
“Thank you, Lois,” said Katrina as we walked back to the ceiling chain, and the spreader bar that awaited me.
“You’re welcome, Katrina.”
Katrina was beautiful, good-looking woman in her 30s. I wondered what and who she was in her normal life: secretary, manager, mother, or housewife?
“Are you ready, Annette?” Katrina asked.
“Yes, Mistress,” I answered.
“Lois, please chain her up a before.”
It took just a few minutes to make me helpless again, hanging from the ceiling, my arms and legs kept open and vulnerable by the spreader bars.
“Annette, do you accept my discipline?”
Katrina clicked her heels as she walked over to the rack on instruments, and picked out a whip, just as Lois had told me!
She offered it to my lips, and I kissed it without having to be told.
“You’re very submissive, aren’t you,” Katrina commented.
“Yes, Mistress,” I answered.
Why had I agreed to submit myself to such torment? What demons drove me to become a slave? Why couldn’t I be satisfied with having a man beside me in bed, like most women? Why did I have to desire being bound and whipped by a latex clad female, eager to stripe my naked body?
The first stroke of the whip was like a snake coiling itself around my body, and the tip struck my breast, making me jump within my chains. I pulled uselessly against them, unable to escape, yet glad for their strength to keep me in bondage.
Katrina then began to circle my chain nudity, delivering one calculated stroke after another that would wind itself around my body, and the tip would strike, making me moan or cry, depending on it’s severity and place of impact.
My little rest period had actually been a good idea, on second thought. Just a few minutes release and a little bath had refreshed me, and I knew that I was now able to stand up to the rigors of another session – even one involving the whip!
Again I was the center of attention, as all in the playroom had their eyes glued o me, and my ordeal.
“Aaaaaah!” I cried when the tip found it’s way between my legs to my pussy.
“Hurt you, darling?” Katrina asked.
“No, Mistress, I’m all right,” I answered.
What a strange thing to say – “I’m all right” – while hanging naked and being whipped!
But in a strange way, I did feel fine! Just as I had found an inner strength while being used by Colleen, I again had found it within myself. What strange power did I possess to be able to endure such punishment?
Crack! The whip struck me again, and the tip landed between my breasts, making me cry.
A woman is not supposed to allow herself to be stripped naked in this society, chained, and whipped. But that was what I preferred to do – what did that make me? A slave. Lois’s slave, to be precise.
“Are you paying attention, young lady?” Katrina asked.
“Then why are you daydreaming while being whipped?”
“I’m not daydreaming, Mistress. I think that I have discovered subspace, which Mistress Lois told me about.”
“So you think that you are in subspace, that elusive place where slaves can go when they are being punished?”
“Yes, Mistress, I think so.”
“That you have truly attained slavery then, under the lash?”
“Lois, has she displayed signs that she is in subspace, or is she just daydreaming when you punish her?”
“I’m not sure, Katrina. Annette certainly has the ability to soak up plenty of punishment, but it’s a hard call whether she is in subspace, or can just dream and hang there and absorb discipline,” described Lois.
“Pity we can’t actually tell what’s going on in a slave’s mind,” Angela added, “it would certainly make D/s far easier.”
“That is for the realm of Science Fiction,” Connie answered, “and I’ve it all my life, and unfortunately there is no Science either for that or faster-than-light stardrives.”
“Yes, Connie,” Angela answered, “I well remember how I had to wait for you to watch Star Trek before we could go out together.”
It was the sound of another whipstroke that brought us all back to reality, and me in particular. All of use had become so engrossed in the Domme’s discussion that we had all forgotten that the object at hand was my whipping. All except Katina, of course!
“There now, that’s better,” said Katrina to everyone, “this isn’t a Tea Party. I’m whipping Annette.”
Crack! Crack! Crack!
If punishment brings dignity, then I must have plenty of dignity from being in bondage and enduring the whip!
Crack! Crack! Crack!
“Aaaaaaah!” I moaned both in pain and pleasure.
“What do you desire more, Annette? A whip or a phallus in your cunt?”
“Both, Mistress,” I answered.
I didn’t know, nor care, how many strokes that I had received, or was going to receive. Either way, I was determined not to call my safeword!
Crack! Crack! Crack!
The tip had found it’s way to my inner thighs and sex, yet I stayed silent, absorbing the blows. I entered subspace and concentrated on enjoying the pain of the whip!
Crack! Crack! Crack!
“Is there anything you want, Annette?” Katrina asked.
“A gag, Mistress,” I answered, “a phallus in particular.”
“Lois, could you oblige her?” Katrina asked.
The action paused as Lois retrieved a gag from the toy rack, and offered it to me. I opened my mouth, and she secured the roller buckle at the name of my neck, and made sure that it was seated properly and straight, so that I could wear it comfortably.
Having the familiar object in my mouth again was a relief! Now I couldn’t cry out! Instead my cries and moans would be muffled, and I could suck on the rubber phallus in my mouth! The phallus gag was even better than a ball-gag, in order to insure my silence and to keep my dignity!
Lois then pressed two half-dollars into my right hand, and closed my fingers around them.
“If you are unable to continue then you must release the coins, Annette. Do you understand?”
I nodded yes.
“This is your Mistress speaking to you, I don’t want you to undergo any more punishment than you can properly stand.”
“Mmmmmh!” I replied.
“Thank you, Lois,” said Katrina.
The second part of my whipping began with a series of slow, delicate strokes that barely stung, and Katrina circled around me like a wary cat – the metaphor was apt, given her name and the fact that she was a Domme.
I sucked on the penis gag, glad hat they had acceded to my request. My tongue felt the tip (which had a small breathing hole) and ran forwards, over the latex that had been shaped to resemble a phallus.
Once gagged, all I could do was to moan, and pull uselessly at my chains. There was a mirror in the playroom, and I could see myself. I was naked and stretched taut, and I could see the ribs outlined beneath my flesh.
“Mmmmph!” I cried when a vicious stroke landed on my right underarm, the flesh being particularly sensitive there.
Katrina continued my agony, using small strokes to slowly torment me. I warily watched as she whipped me, sucking on the gag, and trying to elevate myself back into subspace.
Could I wear this Domme out? It was a mark of endurance that a slave could endure longer than a Domme’s capacity to punish, so I wondered if I could outlast Katrina. However, I had already been used by both Angela and Connie before her, so I was already well used even before the first stroke of the whip.
“She’s very well trained,” Connie told Lois.
“Thank you very much.”
It seemed so strange to hear two women discussing how much punishment that I could take, as if I was a piece of athletic equipment, instead of a woman!
Crack! Crack! Crack!
It was the sound of the whip striking my flesh that brought me back to reality. There is nothing more deadly than a whip striking a naked girl’s flesh, and currently that was me!
“Mmmmmmph! I cried.
Just when I thought that I was ready to surrender, Katrina stopped and began to pinch my nipples and fondle my breasts.
“You’re a very lovely woman,” Katrina complemented me, “I’m surprised that you want to be a slave – surely you wouldn’t rather have a man at your call buying you things?”
“But instead you’re here, and at my mercy. Your lovely breasts, belly, back, thighs, and sex are all available to me – and to my whip, Annette.”
Katrina’s questing hands had finally found their way between my thighs, and opened by the spreader bar, my wet sex was totally available to her!
“Mmmmmph!” I moaned as her fingers pistoned themselves inside me! “Mmmmmph!”
“You’re such a good girl,” Katrina observed, “now don’t come!”
I held myself back, my erotic control slowly eroding under each attack. How long do you think that a girl can hold out?
“Mmmmmmph!’ I cried, glad for the dignity that the gag imparted to me.
After what seemed an endless torment, Katrina abruptly removed her fingers from my cunt, and licked them on her lips.
“You taste pretty good, Annette. One day I’d like to get you in bed.”
After cleaning off her fingers, Katrina again resumed the stance to begin whipping me again.
Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!!
Four strokes after another impacted up on my naked, defenseless body, and I pulled at my chains with effect, and bit down on the phallus.
“Congratulations, Annette. You’ve worn me out. Lois, you can take her down and give her a rest.”
I was still clutching the coins when Lois and Angela released me from my bondage, and removed my gag.
“Thank you, Mistress Katrina.”
“You’re welcome, darling.”
It was two weeks after all three Domme friends of Lois had used me. Lois had barely touched me afterwards, in order that my punished skin be given a chance to heal.
As the color of my skin turned back from red to pink, and the marks from the crop and whip gradually faded, I knew that there would come a day when I would have to be disciplined.
That happened when I forgot to send out the mail that Lois had requested, making her late on a bank payment. I soon found myself naked, over her knee getting a good paddling for my mistake.
And I would have it no other way!
The End of “Moth to the Flame” by firstname.lastname@example.org
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