“No,” she said sharply, before going back to her work.
“Ask permission,” she said after another minute.
Oh my goodness, I thought, I really want to cum.
“Can I touch myself?” I asked.
“May,” she said.
“What?” I honestly didn’t know what she was saying.
“May not Can,” she tutored me.
“May I touch my pussy?” I corrected myself, my best friend was eating my asshole and giving me a grammar lesson. No answer.
After another minute she asked, “Do I need to give you a lesson in good manners as well?”
“May I touch myself? Please?” I just about managed to get the words out breathlessly then heard myself adding another, more urgent, “Pleeeease?”.
“Yes. Touch yourself. Cum for me. Cum like a good girl,” she said after what seemed like an age.
As I slid my fingers between my legs, I felt her finger circle my asshole. I touched myself and felt my orgasm building slowly and steadily as she gently worked her finger into my ass.
“Yaaa,” I heard myself emit a low involuntary moan.
As I got closer I felt my face stretch as my mouth strained wide open. I don’t know if I made a noise or not. She was all the way in when I came, I felt my ass contracting and pulsing on her finger as the orgasm flowed through my body. I knew she felt it too. That was about as intimate as I have ever been with anyone, more intimate probably. She knew me better than anyone and now she knew my body more intimately than anyone else as well.
“Good little cum slut,” she said in her master voice.
“Thank you,” I said meekly.
We went in the house. “How do you feel?” she said. Back using her familiar friend voice rather than her new master voice. I guessed she wanted a signal that I still wanted to go through with it. My body was still hot from orgasm. I wanted more.
“Do anything you want to me,” I said, “I’m your slut.”
“Good little whore,” she replied.
I didn’t know if we could still be friends after this, but in that moment I didn’t care.
We moved to the kitchen and she told me to strip. “Leave your heels on,” she specified. I placed my skirt and top on the kitchen table and stood there naked except for my heels as she rifled through several cupboards looking for something. She was not quiet, her bf will hear. She came back with a wide red ribbon and some velcro straps. She tied the ribbon around my waist and made a huge quadruple bow at my left side. Gift wrapping me for her BF, I understood. I was an object. She was giving me to him, I couldn’t give myself any more, I understood the meaning. Then she brought my arms behind me and tied my elbows together with the velcro, then added a second strap to my wrists. My ex had tied my wrists once but this was different, wrists only is not actually that restraining. But this! I felt a new level of respect for Caroline, somehow I was surprised that she knew what she was doing. She knew what she was doing. My arms were out of use for as long as she wanted. My body was in her hands, she was in control of me. Then she went to look for something else. She came back and put a leather collar with metal spikes around my neck. I don’t want to know if this is a person collar or a dog collar, I thought to myself, I don’t know which would be worse.
She kissed me again, broke off and spanked my behind, loudly. My motor was still running, so to speak, the sensation and sound of the spank was extra fuel. The position of my arms tied at the elbows made me lean forward slightly which made my ass protrude. I leaned forward a tiny bit more so my ass was even more prominent and waited for the next slap. I was too keen, the next slap didn’t arrive. Or, I should say, the next slap was verbal not physical.
“You like when I slap you?” she observed. “Good slut,” she gave her verdict. “What does a whore need?” she asked. I really didn’t know what she was getting at so I said nothing. “What does a whore need?” she repeated.
“I… I… I don’t know,” I admitted.
“What makes a whore, a whore?” she continued. I started to see what she was getting at but I didn’t say anything, did things have to get that real? Maybe she will move on, I thought, hopelessly. I wanted her to spank me again. “Answer me. What makes a whore a whore?” Jesus, she really is going there. I still didn’t say anything. “What is the difference between a slut and a whore?” she changed tack. “Have you ever been a slut?” she pressed me for an answer. Had I? Two boyfriends and three one night stands. Does that make we a slut? “That shit in the taxi was pretty slutty,” she reminded me.
I couldn’t argue with that, “Yes. I’ve been a slut,” I conceded.
She gently stroked my arm from the shoulder down to the velcro tie at the elbow. The feeling of her fingertip on my strained arm muscles was delicious.
“Have you ever been a whore?” she continued.
“No,” I answered.
“Are you going to be a whore tonight?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. She is playing me like… “I’ll be a whore for you,” I confirmed.
“And my BF?” she asked.
“Yes,” with a word I had given all my power away. I had handed all power to her. Suddenly I felt free, kind of weightless. I just have to wait now to see what she will do with me. Free and terrified at the same time.
“As I understand it whores take payment in advance,” she said.
I didn’t know what to say, so again I said nothing. She took out her purse and produced a bundle of notes. She got some scotch tape and taped a 10 to my torso just under my tits.
“I want him to see how much I have paid for you,” she explained, unnecessarily.
Any thoughts I had of ‘pretty woman’ scenario, I actually didn’t have many since being paid was not the focus of my fantasies, but any thoughts of that were evaporated. Richard Gere would not be paying me thousands of dollars, my friend would be taking control of me for a few bucks. Holy shit, I’m cheap. I didn’t see this coming. This is actually real. I didn’t anticipate how difficult this would be. She is making me into a prostitute. I had offered to be instead of their prostitute but now I realized she had manipulated me into being their prostitute. I was not exactly OK with this. She turned me around and taped another 10 to my upper back. She pointed to the note on my front and said, “for your mouth and your pussy.” She spun me around and put her finger on the note on my back and said, “For your ass.” As if that was not bad enough she then added, “He will be looking at this money back here as he unloads up in your whore ass hole.”
I was speechless, lots of emotions were swirling, mixed, too much humiliation. I didn’t see any way out. A feeling of overwhelmedness rose to drowning point and then it slowly receded. As I just about felt like I could breathe again she kissed me before I could gather my thoughts to think about it all. She had me where she wanted. My fantasy was back in focus. I wanted her to kiss me again. I wanted her to spank me again. I wanted her to talk to me and direct her bf as he fucked me. She had proven herself to me, she had proven that she was a dom. My dom.
She clipped a lead onto the collar.
“Do you want a safe word?” she asked.
Honestly, before this evening I would have said safe words were only for weird porn and erotic stories, not for anything in the real world, not for anything in my world. But, I knew now that she was capable, she was not my friend right now, she knew what to do, and was driven to do it, I felt her power and I was helpless in her control. I really wanted a safe word.
“Yes,” I said breathlessly, “I really want a safe word now.”
“Your safe word is Istanbul. I hope you don’t need it,” she said in a tone that conveyed something closer to ‘here is your safe word but I know you won’t let me down by using it, now will you’.
She led me to the stairs… I followed without a word, my breathing was shallow, my pussy juice was all the way down my thighs.
To be continued…
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