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Stern's Stories

Early Call by Stern



Early Call


DISCLAIMER: The following text contains sexually explicit material dealing with practices (sadomasochism, bestiality, enslavement, scatophily, etc.) that might be considered illegal in your country. If this is the case or you are a minor or you feel that these themes might disturb you, please close and destroy this file immediately. By continuing to read you implicitly relieve the author for any responsibility for the contents, legal or otherwise.

CONTACT: The author is very interested in receiving comments from any woman who finds the contents of her interests. To contact him, please send a private email to italiansadist@hotmail.com

A UNIQUE OPPORTUNITY: Italian Master is currently accepting supplications worldwide from females seriously willing to turn their fantasies of masochism and total submission into reality.

I am 29, perfectly healthy, good looking and experienced even from the slave's standpoint. I have a medical and psychology background to ensure your safety, yet I am also very sadistic and extremely demanding. I can speak English, Italian and some French and German. I have a vast knowledge of everything S/M and enjoy most of its aspects in a well equipped setting. What I am looking for is a person willing to be trained into perfect submission as a full time, permanent slavegirl. Respect and care are assured, but the relationship will be centered on the Master/slavegirl aspect.

You must be of legal age, healthy and genuinely masochistic and submissive, with a liking for pain, humiliation, servitude and sexual service. You don't necessarily have to be particularly experienced or exceptional looking, but you must understand that after your training I will not tolerate the knowledge of another slavegirl doing or accepting things that you don't and, most of all, that this is a serious permanent position, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
Answer with your physical and psychological description, listing any previous experience, specific fantasies, current limits and especially your motivations. A photo would be appreciated. All the answers will be discreetly replied to, and should you interest me I'll arrange for an all-expensed paid trip here for an adequately long tryout to assess our mutual interest. If we'll find a compatibility, you will be required to relocate to permanently serve me. An emergency fund will be set up in order to allow you to get back to your former life should any problem arise, and in no case you will be dumped and left on your own. Do not answer to the newsgroup, but email me directly at Stern@it.net
This is a once in a lifetime chance. Try not to waste it.


EARLY CALL

NOTE: The following text is fictional, but it is closely based on the life story of a real person I had the good chance to meet and play with. I guarantee that each event was reported as closely as possible to her descriptions, and I believe they were all true. This person is to remain unnamed, and she is not interested in or allowed further contacts, so please do not bother me with request for contact with her. I simply wanted to share a unique fairytale, albeit of a dark kind.


"Aaaah... This slut surely knows how to please her owners, Cora. I've never seen any other slave so abjectly submissive. She's your masterpiece".

"You're right, Sheri, but I must confess I didn't work on her very much. She's one of Martin's gifts, you see, and he gave her to me completely trained. She's a natural."

"And a young one. How old..."

"The bitch's just twenty. I gave a big birthday party for her a few weeks ago. Shame you couldn't make it."

"Oh, was it hers? Dominic told me of the fishbowl trick..."

"Oh yes, ha ha... It was the only instance she didn't make it..."

"But how comes she's so expert? She must have started out early."

"Indeed. I tell you what: why don't we all take a break and relax listening to her story?"

"Sure."

"It's a nice one, you'll see. Slave! Get that dog cumming quick, drink it all and come here. Mistress Sheri wants to hear your sluttish life story!"

"Look at that... she gives a new meaning to the definition of 'bitch'."

"Ha ha ha! And you should have seen her in Martin's stable. We had her masturbate all of the horses and collect their sperm in a bucket, then..."

"Here I am, Mistress."

"Good. Spread those legs a little further... like that. Did you like Rocky's cum?"

"Ehm... No, Mistress. I'm sorry."

"Never mind. After a few weeks of daily blow jobs to that dog, you're gonna love it."

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you for training me, Mistress."

"What about that story?"

"Sheri's right, slave. Tell us how you became the dirty thing you are now."

"Yes, Mistress. Should I begin..."

"From the very beginning. We want to recover from our orgasms, and to be well relaxed for the remainder of your night of tortures."

"Yes, Mistress. So I have to begin from when I was six...

... I don't know why, but I remember being submissive since early childhood. I clearly recall that when I was six I used to expose myself just to feel humiliated. When I was in my room, I removed my clothes taking special care of exposing my cunt immediately, and then continuing with the other garments until I was completely naked. Then I'd go to the large window, and I'd just stay there, for everybody down in the street to see. I loved being so vulnerable, and humiliated: I kept my legs apart, and I hoped that somebody looked up. It didn't happen often, but when they did, I felt so ashamed... and happy. It wasn't sexual, but I just loved to debase myself.

I remember that about that time I once went to the toilet with a toy plastic bottle hidden inside my clothes. I peed into it, then returned to my room, closed the door and I tried to drink my own urine. It was revolting, but I had to finish it because my family and some friends of them were just a couple of rooms away, and I was to scared of them finding me with a bottle full of piss. When I managed to swallow it all, I remember I felt so proud of myself, so humiliated..."

"Who suggested these things to you?"

"Nobody, Mistress. I had a very caring family, and I grew up very protected. I just felt I needed to be humiliated by somebody, and since it was impossible to find those people, I played both roles. However my parents loved books and taught me to read very early, so as soon as I discovered the wonders of print, I began searching for 'forbidden' readings. It wasn't like there were any in my home, but I had a talent for it. Actually, a major turning point was a regular newsmagazine: it was an old one from the early seventies, and it had a story about war crimes in... maybe it was Vietnam. It sounds incredible, but they published a full story about how women prisoners were tortured right in a family magazine. They detailed how the captors penetrated their assholes and cunts with electrified metal rods, and how did they burn their tits."

"Oh, the good old days..."

"Of course I went immediately into my room to experiment, and for the first time I discovered that my holes were actually more sensitive than the rest of my body. Luckily for me, nobody had told me anything about virginity, so I just played with my cunt. The first thing I did was to penetrate my holes with a pencil, and then I started a regular stretching program: I searched for items to stuff myself with wherever I went. Just among my toys I did find items about thirty different sizes, but I also kept my eyes open for bottles, kitchen tools... anything. I remember I was very disappointed for not having electricity to torment me with, so I wanted to feel the pain of ever bigger items opening me up. I don't really remember when I popped my cherry, but I soon discovered I could take very big objects like my toy bowling pins or the removable handle of a doll's cradle, and again I felt very proud for my ability to debase myself. When I was seven or eight, as soon as I had the chance to be alone I ran to my room and I stuffed myself up, taking care of always graduating to larger items as soon as they weren't discomforting enough."

"Ooh. A real baby slut. Are you pulling my leg?"

"No, Mistress. Believe me, it's all true."

"But how could you do that without anybody noticing?"

"I was a very quiet girl, Mistress. Mostly because I knew I was different. At school I was always very shy and by myself, also because my parents had already taught me most of the things the other kids struggled to grasp, and I got bored. At home my parents were usually out for work until late evening, so I was alone most of my waking hours."

"Go on, slave."

"Yes, Mistress. So as a child I mostly did these things. I was fascinated by the sensitivity to pain of my genitals, and I tried to devise some kind of irritant made with cooking stuff: I remember trying to use a mixture of lemon juice, vinegar and pepper, and crying because it didn't hurt me at all. So in the end I discovered that sticking stuff in my piss hole was very painful: I chose small items, like a long screw, to scrape my urethra, then I felt great for the sheer terror I had anytime I had to piss. After the first disconcerting time, I had learned that it was so terribly painful, and yet I couldn't do a thing to stop myself from pissing. It was the perfect torture.

While I attended the obligatory school courses I tried about everything. I licked my own feet imagining they were my captors', and my shoes were always perfectly clean. I licked them to humiliate myself, sometimes trying to clean the soles as well. Once I saw a tv program where they said the Inquisition tortured witches by making them drink huge quantities of water, and I immediately did that: it was the one single time I became ill for my secret games. Everything could be a source of pain for me: I browsed through mail order catalogs imagining they were torture items catalogs, and I tried to find some way to use each of them to hurt myself. When one of my aunts gave me one of those high-pressure devices to spray one's teeth clean with water, I soon discovered that you could put it to full power and use the tiny water jets as a painful needle-like torment... and I learned how to use it to inject hot or icy cold water in my peehole to feel the pressure, and trying to hold the piss as much as possible as I suffered."

"And what did your friends say about these pastimes of yours? I can't believe you never told anyone."

"Oh, no Mistress. When I was about nine I tried to found a club called 'Tackle - tortures against creepy kids and little enemies', just to see how my friends would react to the idea of torture. I figured that if things went bad, I could always say it was a joke. At our first meeting - we were three in all - the other two decided to play cards, so I simply decided to ignore anybody else. Maybe in the afternoons I went outside to meet them with my cunt or asshole stuffed and stretched under the clothes, but they never knew. The only time I met a fellow masochist was when I was already thirteen: she was another girl in the classroom next to mine. Near the end of the school year I overheard the other girls making fun of her, and one of them said she liked to eat shit. Of course I immediately tried to befriend this other girl - she was called Ellie - to see if it was true. We were both terribly shy, but with time we started studying and playing together, and one day I summoned my courage and tried to learn about her. I had thought a lot about how to do this, and I had decided that the best way was to humiliate myself first. It was the first time I admitted my tendencies directly to somebody, and by then we had moved into another town and I didn't expose myself anymore, because I was more into pain by then. However, one afternoon we were alone in my home and I casually flaunted my super-shiny shoes.

'You've got beautiful shoes', she said.

'Really?'

'Yes, they're so shiny you can mirror yourself into them."

It was then or never, so I went: 'You know, I have a secret way of polishing them.'

'What is it?'

'Promise me you won't tell anybody, or we won't be friends anymore.'

'Of course I promise. You're my only friend.'

'Ok then. Well... I lick them all over.'

'Oh, come on.'

'No, really. Look,' I said, and I showed her, raising one leg and proceeding to lick my own shoe, raising my skirt and exposing my pants as well by doing it. She became speechless, and after a while I said: 'See? I really like these kind of things. And what about you?' She didn't answer, but after an eternity of uncertain, she simply kow-towed in front of me and started licking my shoes. I was so relieved I almost cried. In the end she explained that she was into humiliations as well, but that she was forced into it by her abusive stepfather. Now she liked it, but she started being raped by her adoptive father at age seven, and it was very hard for her to adjust to it. He was a dominant man who normally called her 'slut' and simply used her for his pleasure, sometimes as her submissive wife looked on without rebelling. In the end she learned to love that treatment, and they now lived as an happy kinky family. The shit incident was actually part of a submissive game: Ellie herself had asked his father-Master to humiliate her by forcing her to eat his shit, and he gladly complied. She had thrown up, but he ordered her to go to school next day and tell at least three other girls that she loved to eat shit, and little slave Ellie had humbly obeyed. We traded torture stories: she was mostly a sex doll, while I was a pain slut. I wanted to know how does a real cock feel, and she wanted to see my masochism with her own eyes. We were both so excited by the discovery of a soulmate that I pulled one of my worst stunts: the next day I invited Ellie home, stripped myself naked and I heated up a table knife on the kitchen's fire. Then I asked her to sit and watch, I opened my cunt in front of this stranger, and I let my labia close again on the hot metal. In the beginning I was so wet that I didn't feel a thing, but then..."

"I can't believe it!"

"It's true, Mistress. I still have the marks from that."

"She's right, Sheri. Let her go on."

"Yes, Mistress. Ellie was terribly excited by my sluttiness and pain, and I remember that she wanted to masturbate, but she had an order never to come without her Master's permission. To show me her worth, she pulled me into the bathroom, put some paper tissues on the floor and she took a shit over them. Then, smiling, she dived face first into it, and she ate most of the mess. That afternoon we had both learned new stunts we couldn't actually do ourselves, but which we desperately wanted to in order to better humiliate ourself. Since my cunt was badly burned, we then had a sort of anal stretching contest: I discovered that Ellie could take larger plugs, and we were so much in heat that the only thing that mattered to us was to revel in our submission. When she finally had to go home, I asked my friend to tell about me to her Master. I had never seen him, but I wanted so much to be raped as she was almost daily, that I offered myself as his slave. That evening, while I was trying to soothe the pain in my peeling cunt, Ellie phoned me: 'Master wants to talk to you' she said, and I was ecstatic. Unfortunately, when he came to the phone, he was angry.

'Slutty here told me of you.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Well, let's put things straight. I'm not seeing you today, nor ever. It could be fun, but you're a minor and...'

'But I promise I won't be telling anyone...'

'Shut up! I said we won't meet. And don't you try going around and say things about me or slutty, because if you do, I'll make sure you'll be in big troubles - of the kind you don't like.'

'But...'

'I said shut up! Starting tomorrow, you'll keep clear of Ellie. Do you understand?'

'I... Yes, sir.' He hung up on me, and next day in school Ellie was the first to keep away. She gave me a strange look while we were resting between lessons, but that was it. A few days after this, her family moved elsewhere.

I found myself more alone and horny than ever, but..."

"Wait a second."

"Yes, Mistress Sheri?"

"You didn't tell how things became sexual for you."

"I'm sorry, Mistress. You're right. It was when I was nine: I had my cunt very irritated, probably because of something I had stuffed myself with. One afternoon, while I was studying alone in my room, I was naked as always, and I began scratching it. I went on a lot, and I ended up masturbating without even knowing what masturbation was. Suddenly I felt my first orgasm, and I was shocked. 'It feels so clean,' was my first thought, and from that day on masturbation was in my pastimes just as much as self torture. I began menstruating soon after that, and my family was so puritan that everything resolved with my mother asking me if I had any questions, which I hadn't, and her letting me find some external tampons in the bathroom. I was probably lucky that sexuality was never discussed, because they would have probably suicided if they discovered my sluttiness, and my lack of virginity."

"And what about your boyfriends?"

"Ah... I had none, Mistress. I was so shy, and scared... A part of me just wanted to be fucked by a real cock, but I knew it had to be within a S/m setting."

"Did you know of proper S/m?"

"When I was about twelve we spent a summer as guests of a couple of family friends. He was an illustrator, so of course he had a whole library of graphical references. One afternoon, when everybody was on the nearby beach, I stayed home with a minor fever, and I browsed through it. There I found a few books with illustrations by Stanton, Carlo, Farrel and Pichard. It was like a new world opening up to me: suddenly I wasn't alone with my lost friend Ellie, but I had proof that other people enjoyed tortures, humiliations and enslavement. I was so hooked that in the next days I actually started learning French just because I wanted to read the texts in some of those books. And they were so extreme... pierced nipples, bestiality, slavegirls whipped until they bleed... I remember thinking that I had a lot to learn."

"Ok, so tell me how did you get actually started after all."

"Yes, Mistress. First of all, when I was about sixteen, during one of my humiliation trips, I went to a newsstand and I bought an S/m magazine, just for the kick of being yelled at by the vendor."

"Wait. At a newsstand?"

"Remember she's Italian, Sheri. Go on, slave."

"Yes, Mistress. Unexpectedly, the vendor didn't even look me in the face, so I got home hiding the magazine in my school sack. There I discovered articles about techniques, letters about people like me, and of course the contact section. I was so excited, that after a couple of days I wrote a letter summing up my story and my desire for submission to a few of the advertents. I even put my family's home phone into them! When the first call came, my father answered and passed it on me very naturally, not suspecting a thing, but I got terribly scared. When the man on the other side said it was about my response, I told an awfully stupid excuse and I hung up terrorized. The next call was from my favourite ad: a dominant couple from Germany, who had put a photo with a slavegirl being whipped very harshly in a perfectly equipped dungeon. Unfortunately, when they called I wasn't home. My mother said that a 'Gunther' or something had phoned, but he never called back. I felt like I had lost my best chance.

After that, however, I decided that I had to pursue the contact scene as much as possible, and I started buying more and more magazines, which I read as quick as I could, and then I had to trash away in order for my family not to find them. I copied down all of the interesting addresses, and I sent my letters away alternately hoping and fearing an answer. I only thought about S/m, nothing else mattered. My most important goal was not to stand out as a clueless beginner when the moment of my real submission came, so I intensified my training. I think I almost consumed a brush just by spanking myself every day, until my ass was covered in little droplets of blood caused by the bristles - on those days I couldn't spank myself for some reason, I felt useless and incomplete.

My other big problem was my inexperience with sex. One day I surprised my mother by asking her to send me abroad for a week of study holiday in England: the excuse was to learn English, but I really had other goals in mind. I didn't feel at ease to experiment with sex near home, where my family might have got to hear about it, and a friend had told me that during her holidays there, the year before, everybody was fucking a lot. In the end, I got to the outskirts of London at sixteen, without ever having even seen a real penis up close. I took it as one of my humiliation stunts: 'I swear that I'll let anybody fuck me' I said, and I did. On my very first day on campus I wore my shortest skirt with no panties, no bra, and a white and very fitting shirt, which I left quite unbuttoned. I put on my redder lipstick, and I simply walked the grounds, smiling a lot, feeling just like a whore and proud of it. I was pretty and there were a lot of horny young boys around, so I attracted a lot of attentions. The very first who approached me was a French one, quite cute. I was terrified, but I reminded myself that I was there to learn to give good sex, and my priority was to make myself known as a slut. We made a little small talk, and all of a sudden I looked him in the eyes and asked: 'Can I suck your cock and drink all of your cum?'. We only spoke broken English, but he immediately understood and took me in his room. My first blow job wasn't very hard - I had anticipated a lot worse - even if I almost choked on his sperm. But I was first and foremost a slavegirl, so I licked him clean and treated him extra well. Then he wanted me to stay with him, but I simply said: 'You can call and fuck me anytime you want. Just be sure to have a condom handy.' Then I exited, but I managed to add: 'and tell all of your friends.'

Moments later, my fame had spread. Guys of every shape, race and age came to me and asked, some of them directly and some of them embarassed, if I could really do that to them as well. Before dinnertime my bodycount was four, and in the next days I struggled to satisfy everybody. Some of them were ugly, smelly or disgusting, but I steeled myself and just did it, thinking that I'd become a better slave for that. If somebody asked, I lied saying that I was a nymphomaniac, and I just had to do that. The principals were very good at pretending that nothing special happened, and eventually even some female guests approached me. I really had no preferences, so I licked and masturbated them all, not really thinking of it as sex but as homeworks. I soon lost my count, then in the last days of that week some guys arranged to gangbang me, and I learned how to perform in those situations as well. I was exhausted, but also exhilarated by having to service all of those people, and about my fame of a filthy whore. I came back home much more secure about my possibilities, and then I had my best surprise. Somebody had called leaving their number, and I was quite sure it was someone I had contacted about their ad. So, right after entering home, the first thing I did was to call that number: I was so scared that I almost couldn't speak, especially when I heard a stern male voice on the other side. It was a couple living in Tuscany, who invited me to reach them in their country home as long as I wanted. I felt I couldn't pass this opportunity up, so I made up a story with my father, saying it was the parents of my old friend Ellie (who I knew they would never meet) inviting me for a holiday, and maybe I could go. Of course he let me go, and 24 hours later I was on a train going to meet my torturers. I was completely libido-driven: I was so eager to feel a real whip that I hadn't even set up a safety plan.

Luckily for me, the Masters were very good people. They were intelligent and even tender to me, but they wanted our story to be a no-nonsense one. When I got to their two stories house, I was ordered to stop right inside the door and strip naked before them. They said I was good enough and they asked if I accepted to submit to their every order. I said yes, and I was finally enslaved. They had a large playroom where I spent most of my time, locked into a large wooden cage where I had to sleep or tied up in some way. Of course they used me sexually, and they used me as their housemaid. I wasn't very good at this, especially in the high heels I had to walk in for the first time in my life, but I managed. They used me as their toilet, and they marveled when I spontaneously dropped to the floor to lick a few spilled urine drops. And of course they punished me: I was whipped for the first time in my life spreadeagled on their bed, and when it ended I cried a lot, I just couldn't stop crying. I was as amazed as them: they weren't tears of pain, but tears for the biggest and purest joy I had felt in my whole life. I felt so alive, so finally into my place... I eagerly accepted every punishment and torture, and I forfeited only when they wanted to do a strangulation scenario with me. I was too afraid, and I asked to be tortured with the needles (which were my other big fear) instead.

I left them after nine days, absolutely happy. As I got back home by train, my biggest joy came from the awful pain that I felt every time I tried to sit down. I had no problems until about a week later, when I was hit by a terrible guilt complex: I felt like a shit, a sick psycho, and I even seriously thought about consulting a psychologist to quit my bad habit. But in the end of course I didn't, and I got back to my dream of becoming a slave with a new goal. In order to realize my vision I had to be independent, so I started to work to be able of go and live by myself as soon as I'd got eighteen. Until next summer I couldn't meet any other Master: I had to study, and I simply never discussed about the possibility of going out one evening without my parents. Never.

"But didn't you have a boyfriend?"

"Well, Mistress, there was a guy who was in love with me, in some romantic way. He kind of persecuted me, but in a nice way. We'd meet some afternoons, but we never even had sex. I liked him, but he was, like, too pure. When I said him that I fantasized about S/m, he simply couldn't understand what I meant. For some time I even tried to force myself into accepting his lifestyle, as it was really moving to see his efforts, but I just couldn't make it. Some day things got colder between us, and I got back to my work."

"What did you do?"

"I helped in a publishing house as a translator, Mistress, and I earned just enough money to be able to move in a very small apartment when I got of age."

"Without any further experience?"

"Next year I got back to that couple in Tuscany, but she had had an accident and she was almost blind, so their mind was not really about play. It was a disappointment, because I had figured I'd spent the whole summer with them. In the end I preferred to go back to the seaside resort my family was in, and do some extra translation work in the now-spare time.

This was good, because my show of dedition to work earned me the promise of a part time job next winter, when I'd be eighteen. With that safety, I then moved on my own, much to my parents' disappointment, and I was finally free. In my new apartment I lived just like I did in my playroom as a child, but in much grander scale. I used almost all of my money to buy slutty clothes, pump heels and of course S/m toys. I was probably the youngest customer of the single S/m shop in my town, and about the single female, so they even gave me small gifts. Soon I owned a few enormous dildos with their penetrating belt, some whips, nipple clamps and weights... everything I needed. And of course a lot of contact magazines. Now I could put my own ads on them, and the answers soon poured in.

I had saved on food in order to put a second phone line in my home, which I had the sense of have unlisted in order not to have a thousand of creeps persecuting me, and of course an answering machine. Almost every day I came home to find at the least one good message among all the jokes and rude comments. I had a lot of luck never meeting any dangerous person, and in the first months I got to know lots of dominant people. Yet, after a while I started to feel a little bored: it seemed that everybody was the same. Most of them had good houses and a couple of cases full of toys; they whipped me, put some clothespins on my nipples and they fucked me. The best ones also remembered to make me drink their piss or to fist my holes, but that was it. I loved to be used, but it wasn't anything like my fantasies, where the Masters were positively cruel with their slaves, and they used merciless and beautiful torture machines on them. It was apparent that the people who contacted me were just roleplaying, while I was looking for something harder than that. Soon I started to select my dates by the equipment they possessed: I simply asked when they called in, and I rejected anyone not owning a proper place for S/m. The remaining ones were few, but good ones: they could suspend, cage or tie me to proper X-crosses, and their interest was more set on domination than kinky sex.

Eventually, just a week prior to my nineteenth birthday, I had the luck of serving Mistress Greta, who came from Germany and lived with two live-in slaves, a man and a woman. She was exactly what I was looking for: when she asked me what I liked, she was very happy with my answer and she gave me her best. I spent a whole saturday writhing in pain, and the only pauses I had were those moments where I had to pleasure her or her slaves. She just ignored my every begging to stop, and when she released me next morning, after making me sleep in bondage and with a double penetrating belt on, I was in shock. I remember I really hurted all over, and I hated her: I spent the whole day attending to my bruises and welts, and I was sure I had risked my life. I resolved to quit my passion and I almost threw away all of my toys, but after a few days I began to relish in the memories of that day of hard domination. In the end, on the day of my birthday, I called her and begged her to use me again.

Mistress Greta did, and again I felt like I was about to die under her duress, but this time she made me stay one more day. So I could see the life of her other slaves, who were perfectly trained: especially the woman, who was just like a robot. She was fascinating but scary: she only lived for her Mistress, accepting everything with loving eyes, not looking for anything else. The Mistress once found a glass less than perfectly cleaned, and this was enough to put the male slave's balls into a metal vise for two hours. I remember seeing him suffering so much that he almost threw up, and yet he heartly thanked his owner for his punishment. I, on my part, was paddled for my first time until my ass literally became blue and black..."

"Cool. Here's what I want to do next. May I, Cora?"

"Sure, this filthy shit will be happy to be beaten blue, isn't it?"

"Y... Yes Mistress."

"Go on."

"Y... yes, Mistress. I... had never felt so much pain, and I just couldn't sit for almost a week after that. I had to stay home from office, and I had a lot of time to think about Mistress Greta and her slaves. Every time I passed before a mirror, I was fascinated by the burning marks of her domination, and after a few days I knew what to do. I called her again thanking her for my session, and I humbly asked if she could accept me as her new permanent slave. I felt like I wasn't worth a toenail of the other slaves, who never struggled at all and showed real submission, and I wanted to become like them. I thought that it was my real purpose in life, and I was prepared to leave everything to become a full time slavegirl.

Mistress Greta wanted to see me and we discussed at length of my decision, but in the end she said that she couldn't keep one more slave. To hear that was more painful than any torture: you see, I had summoned all of my courage to choose that life, and I simply couldn't! Yet the Mistress wanted to help me, and she called a friend of hers in Germany. She asked me once again if I was sure, and she gave me an address to go to in three days. I was expected simply to go and submit to anything for one full month, and then I'd have to decide once and for all if I really wanted to be a slave. That was Master Martin's address, and I arrived in Hamburg with my ass still marked by the paddle. Master Martin treated me just like Mistress Greta did, but he added new things: in example he made me do a few videos where I appeared without masks, first for a teenagers series and then for a torture series. That was a new kind of humiliation I wasn't sure to like, but I reasoned that if I had to become a lowly slave, it was just good that anybody could go and see my sluttiness. He also introduced me to animal sex, which is so degrading to me, and towards the end of the month he gave me these heavy piercings in my cunt and tits. He made sure of not using any psychological training on me, so when he asked me if I wanted to stay I chose ultimate submission on my free will. Master Martin accompanied me back to Italy and he helped me to quit my job, my rent and he made sure I trashed everything I had, except my S/m toys and gear, which he took for his dungeon. He had me give him all of my money and identity documents, and he forbade the use of my name forever. I remember well that as I donated my furniture, books and clothes to charity, I cried once again for sheer joy. I felt so light, my soul so free, my purpose fulfilled... From that moment on I am just a slave, and I am simply happy not to have a chance to escape anymore. Master Martin began to train me psychologically, to teach me never to think to anything else than my owners' pleasure..."

"Didn't he finish?"

"No, Mistress. I was given to Mistress Cora before I could end my training in this."

"I see. So you still have some thoughts for your well-being, slave?"

"I... I am afraid so, Mistress. Sometimes. I'm very sorry, Mistress."

"So it is. I sense some reticiency here. What is it, slut?"

"I am... scared, Mistress."

"By what?"

"I, I, I... My worthless ass has been already beaten a lot today, Mistress, and I am afraid that the paddling you said before will be too hard for me."

"Ah. Yet you are here to suffer, isn't it?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"So now you will go to the black dungeon and you will bring me the paddle which has one side covered in sandpaper. In your mouth, on your knees."

"Hrm..."

"And you will ask us to beat up your ass until it is blue, and when we'll be finished I want you to beg us to paddle it again right on the bruises. Go now."

"Y... yes, m... Mistress."

"You're an awfully sadistic bitch, you know, Sheri?"

"Thank you, Cora. This kid's story has turned me on a lot, and if you allow me, I'm not going to stop until I can't move my arm anymore."

"As you wish, darling. It will be fun to see her work with a thrashed ass in the next days, and I know..."

"Ooh, here she is. Give it to me, here. Right... the sandpaper is fresh, and... Oh, but you're trembling, slave. Let's heat you up. Go and lay on that table."

"May... May this slave speak, Mistress?"

"Yeah?"

"I... wanted to thank you, Mistress."


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