Slowly, she lifted herself off the bed on which she lay, ducking her head
to avoid the glass cover which had protected her for the last ten years.
She walked stiffly over to the next tank. Commander Barton’s body was still
inside, while her pulse and respiratory indicators showed her to be dead. The
other two tanks, which were reserved for the two men of the crew, also
contained bodies with no detectable respiration or heartbeat. She was the only
surviving member of her squad.

There were nearly a hundred squads of four in isolated control rooms
like this. They were separated by several hundred miles. The rational
behind this was that when the bombs started to fall at least one-third
of the control rooms were expected to survive. After the nuclear winter
had eliminated all human life the chosen ones would emerge from suspended
animation and start over; at least those who survived would.

Her name was Jessica Martin, an architect, art historian, construction
engineer and most important a fertile female. By her acceptance into the
Savior’s program, she had agreed to become the mate of one of the members of
her squad. He was a loathsome man with a genius level I.Q. This requirement
had almost made Jessica reject the program’s offer, but she had wanted to
survive the holocaust. It was almost a relief that his life support system
had failed. Unfortunately, the only two other members of the Saviors program
who could help her were also dead.

Fully awake now, Jessica started the preparations necessary for the next day’s
trip to the rendezvous point. The radiation readings were high, but tolerable.
The temperature outside was nearly eighty. This was better than expected
for a Spring day in the southwest desert after several hundred cubic miles
of dirt had been thrown in the air by nuclear explosions. Actually,
it was several hundred cubic kilometers. It had been agreed that
the survivors would convert to metric now. Most of the scientists
in the group had readily gone along with this since they were all used to
the system. Her profession still worked in feet and inches. Adjusting
wouldn’t be to difficult. If Jessica made a mistake in her conversions,
who would care if she went a few kilometers-per-hour over the speed limit?
There was no one there to enforce it anyway.

After nearly eight hours of preparation, including a wide variety of tests
for biological hazards, latent radiation, and chemical pollutants, she
was ready to start her trip. Everything went smoothly. The canned water
had not perished, the freeze dried food had not decomposed and the computer
had kept the solar car’s batteries charged.

The only set back she had, aside from the death of her companions, was that
the gun locker was buried under a huge concrete beam. Obviously, some kind of
explosion had occurred near by and now she was going to have to enter the
world above armed with only a tazer gun.

The tazer gun had been left in the glove compartment of her
transportation, a solar car. This was because, like the solar car’s batteries,
its charge had to be maintained for the ten years she had been
in thermo freeze. For projectiles, the tazer fired two darts which
struck an adversary and delivered a shock of twenty thousand volts through
wires which attached to the gun. It only had a range of around three meters
and only worked against one opponent. These limitations did not really
intimidate Jessica, since all animal life, including the human race,
had been removed from the surface planet by an excessively large number of
nuclear explosions. The only real danger would come from the few people, if
any, who survived the holocaust by hibernating underground like she did.

She spent her last night on the couch of her thermo tank. This time
she kept the lid up and relied on her body’s natural cycle of sleep
to wake her up rather than the life support computer. The next morning she
opened the two levels of outer doors and drove off using the battery power of
her solar car. There would be enough light out to recharge the vehicle as
she drove.

Although it was not as she expected, the outside world was peaceful. The
mountain under which she had been buried was still dry and arid. It had
remained nearly unchanged, the only noted difference being that the road north
to Arrow Point was in poorer condition than it had been ten years ago. This
was to be expected, given the untimely nuclear termination of the local
highway department.

In every direction, the desert stretched, broken occasionally by a shriveled
tree or cactus. It startled her that, no matter how sparse, plant life had
survived even in a desert after a nuclear holocaust. Jessica was taken more
aback by the vulture which circled overhead. Obviously, animal life had also
survived.

She drove on over the pitted road, heading north. Life seemed in abundance
compared to what she had expected. After two hours of driving she
nearly ran over a snake sunning itself on the side of the road. After
four hours she had seen a several small birds and one rat which
reminded her of her now deceased potential mate. Travelling
at twenty kilometers-an-hour, she was nearly a hundred kilometers from the
control room when she came across the wreck.

It was a four wheel drive vehicle, only a scorched hulk by the side of
the road with its two occupants burnt to a crisp inside. From the fresh
smell of gasoline, it was obvious that the vehicle had not been there more than
a few days. It appeared as though more than vultures, snakes and rats had
survived the war.

Just after she passed the wreck she heard the motorcycles behind her. There
were three men, all had shaved heads and wore leather jackets. Even at
peak speed there was no way that Jessica could out run the bikes. She pulled
over to the side of the road and waited for them to hopefully pass. They
didn’t. Instead, they pulled slowly up behind her with wolfish grins on their
faces. Even with her hair tied up, wearing a silver environment jumpsuit, she
was obviously a woman.

The three men parked their bikes and dismounted a short distance away from
where her vehicle was parked. Forming a skirmish line with cross bows leveled,
they advanced towards her. She sat quietly in the drivers seat. Maybe she had
been speeding. Maybe someone did care. What would she say?, “Excuse me
officer the nuclear holocaust knocked down all the speed limit signs. You
know how these solar powered cars are they just drive so fast.” Unfortunately,
solar powered vehicles were about the slowest form of transportation around and
besides, these men were obviously not police officers.

As they neared her she released the catch on the window and opened it. The
lead man, who looked like a blind date she once had, licked his lips. She
smiled, gave a flirtatious wave and shot him with the tazer gun. He let out a
howl as twenty thousand volts immobilized him.

Jessica drove off, leaving the other two men staring at her in amazement. If
only they stayed that way. In her rear view mirror she could see the lead
man stagger to his feet. That wasn’t possible, the tazer gun was guaranteed
to immobilize an assailant for at least ten minutes. Now was not the time
to think about getting a refund.

He screamed to his companions as he ran towards his bike. They caught up
to her in no time. Keeping a safe distance the leader easily shot out one
of her back tires with a pistol. The car careened out of control and slammed
into a dune. Jessica’s head struck the windshield. In her daze she saw the
three men run up to her vehicle. The drivers side window was smashed with the
butt of a rifle and she was dragged out without a fight.

Everything was blurry as she was thrown on her back. One man pinned her
arms, the other her legs as the leader straddled her. He ripped open the front
of her environment suit. “No” she murmured, to dazed from her blow to the
head to put up a fight. As the leader’s hands worked lower, she saw a fourth
man running towards them.

With a terrifying speed, the new arrival struck the man holding her legs with
the butt of his rifle. As the leader turned, he received a similar blow to
the face and like his companion was put temporarily out of commission. The
man holding her arms began to draw a pistol from his belt.
Before it left its holster, he was on the ground holding his crotch. Having
been given a kick squarely in the genitals, he had no real alternative
but to writhe in pain. Jessica’s savior was on him before he could recover.
There was a slight gurgling noise as the throat of this assailant was cut.
Without wasting any time, the throats of the other two men were also slit,
this insured that they were both permanently out of commission.

Her knight in shiny armour turned out to be a knight in black leather.
Looking up from his knee high boots to his nearly military haircut, she
saw he was a veritable arsenal. With a knife strapped to his right leg,
a pistol slung low to his hip and a bandoleer of ammunition over one shoulder,
he was both handsome and threatening. He was around 5′10” with sandy blonde
hair, broad shoulders and a slim waist. The desert had hardened him; this only
added to his good looks and ferocity.

As he eyed her carefully, Jessica realized that her breasts were hanging out of
her torn jumpsuit. She pulled it over them and fixed her bra. “You aren’t
going to rape me?” she asked. Walking towards his car, he shook his head.
Jessica received conflicting feelings of relief and disappointment as the
stranger walked towards his car.

It was a black Rally Sport, Camaro, 1973 if Jessica’s guess was right. Before
the war she had dated a man obsessed with cars. Actually obsessed was a mild
term for his addiction and subsequent boring monologues on such exciting topics
as the improved carburetor intake valves in the 73 versus the 74 Camaro.
Maybe the nuclear holocaust had been a good thing.

Her savior started his car’s engine and drove it next to the bikes. With a
piece of plastic hose he started to syphon the fuel from the motorcycle
closest to his car. Once the syphonning process was started he walked back
towards her.

Jessica stood up, running her fingers through her hair, which now hung
loosely about her shoulders, she tried to compose herself. “I’d like to thank
you. My name is Jessica Martin.” she said extending her hand. He looked up
momentarily and began to search the former owners of the motorcycles.
He removed a variety of weapons and tools from each of them. Adding to
Jessica’s opinion that here was a man of fine breeding, he removed the leader’s
boots which looked to be in better shape than his own. This made Jessica’s
stomach turn; her hero was nothing more than a grave robber.

After depositing his loot in his car and starting the syphonning process
on another motorcycle, he walked towards Jessica’s
vehicle. With a wrench in one hand, he began sizing up the vehicle. “Excuse
me” Jessica stammered, “That’s my car and I would like to keep it in
one piece.” At her request he walked back towards his car and began taking
selected parts off one motorcycle.

In disgust Jessica walked to her car. It appeared to be hopelessly stuck in
the dune. Its motor refused to engage, probably because most of the battery
cells had been destroyed when she crashed. She picked up her food and what
gear she could carry and walked towards the Camaro. The third motorcycle was
now being syphonned and another bike was being stripped of useful parts.

“Excuse me”, she said “could you possible give me a ride north.”

“No” was the first word he spoke to her.

“Well, what do you expect me to do?”

“I don’t care” he replied as the flow of liquid began to dwindle from
the siphoning hose.

“You bastard. The only reason you saved me was so that you could get
more fuel for your car.” Jessica was angry, she had been used.

“No, the only reason why I saved you was that there are now three less
skags in the valley to give me trouble”.

Jessica’s anger calmed. “Take me with you.”

“No”

“Why?”

“I already have one too many mouthes to feed.”

“I have food.”

“Nope.”

In desperation and with a bit of desire, she added, “I’ll sleep with you”.

He stood up, grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her against him.
She could feel his leather jacket press against her breast. His kiss was
fierce but cold. Despite this it sent shivers through her entire body. One
top of the indignity of the forced kiss he added, “If I wanted
to sleep with you I would take you now. You are not my responsibility.”
She was angry, she had been rejected. There was a first time for everything.

Jessica thought for a moment. “I can give you fuel, food and weapons
if you can get me up to Arrow Point in the north.” His eyes lit up as
Jessica continued, “I’m from a group called the Saviors. We were placed in
cryogenic freeze before the war. After ten years the thermo units were set to
wake us up. We are all supposed to rendezvous at Arrow Point. We have
supplies and the technological know-how to start over.”

“Then, why are you alone?” he demanded.

“My companions’ thermo units failed somehow. I was the only survivor from
my group. There were nearly a hundred other groups. Those who survived
are heading towards Arrow Point”. She batted her eyelashes and tried to
look as helpless as possible. Jessica leaned forward slightly so that her
ripped jumpsuit would show off her breast. After all, this man was her
one chance at survival in this savage world.

The man leaned against his car contemplating the offer. Eyeing the dwindling
flow from the syphonning hose, he said “Alright, but on my terms.” Jessica
smiled, she still had a touch with men. She had coaxed him into taking her
along.

Fifteen minutes later Jessica and the stranger were travelling north.
Strapped into the passenger’s seat, she had both hands chained at her sides.
No matter how much she protested, he refused to have it any other way.
When he said “My terms”, he meant it. The wind blew her jumpsuit open as
they drove. It was no longer necessary for her to lean forward in order
to give him a view of her breasts. He could just look over at her, chained on
his terms and see what ever he wanted. Contrary to what she desired and
expected, he never took his eyes off the road.

He introduced himself as Jason, no last name, just Jason. Obviously,
he trusted no one. In his brief monologue, Jason told her that the valley was
ruled, for the most part, by a biker called The King. This biker leader,
had several dozen men under him who scavenged off the surrounding land and
sought to remove all undesirables from the area. They wanted total control of
the valley, while the undesirables, like Jason, sought to survive by
scavenging off the scavengers.

The main difficulty in heading north is that they would have to cross the
river. This meant either leaving the car and swimming across the cesspool
of a river, or driving across the bridge. Although the bridge was heavily
guarded, abandoning the car was not an alternative. Crossing the river was
the only way to drive out of the valley and therefore the only means of
accomplishing this was being protected. That way the King could keep
his own me from deserting and men like Jason from getting into the outside
world. More importantly, the bridge served to keep Jason’s car in the valley;
it was the most valuable item around, next to Jessica.

The roads were in fair shape as they drove. Jason’s skill at driving made
them seem in better shape then they actually were. His car made better time
than the solar power car had. On the back seat were the two battery cells
which had survived the crash of the solar car. This and some food was all
that Jason determined was salvageable from the solar car, besides Jessica.

As they drove he rested his hand on the shift. Confined by the
chain attached to her left wrist, Jessica could just barely
brush her finger tips against his hand. She did so as they drove, because
she longed for his attention and desired to please him. After all,
he had saved her life. He seemed not to notice. Giving in to instinct, he
let his hand wander and touch the side of her left breast. Her gasp of
pleasure awoke Jason from his trance. Quickly, he withdrew his hand, making
it a point not to let it rest on the stick shift anymore. Jessica wondered
why he didn’t find her desirable.

They stopped several miles from the bridge and pulled off behind a ridge.
Jason wanted to attempt the crossing at night, so there was nothing left to
do but wait out the rest of the day. Unlocking her hands, he placed
a chain around her neck. The other end of the new chain was locked to a
convenient log. Jessica sat obediently at the base of the log while
Jason lit a small fire and opened a can of food for dinner. She had no choice,
the chain around her neck kept her from running away and as an
extra precaution he had tied her hands behind her back.

As Jason heated the can over the flames, Jessica felt the gnawing of
hunger pangs. Dinner was only beef stew, but it smelt wonderful.
Jessica hadn’t eaten all day and before that, not for ten years.
After it reached the desired temperature, Jason placed the contents
of the can on a plate and began to devour it. “What about me?” Jessica
asked. This brought a smile to Jason’s face as he replied by reaching over
and striking her across the face. Following this momentary distraction,
he took a long swig from his canteen and resumed eating.

When he had finished nearly everything on his plate he slid it over to
Jessica. She looked up at him despising everything he stood for. Starving,
hands tied behind her back, she had no choice but to lick what remained of
dinner off the plate. Maintaining her strength was more important than saving
face. Once they reached Arrow Point he would pay. Surely, the Saviors
wouldn’t want such a man in their midst, nor would they allow him to exist in
the new world they would create.

Having finished what remained on the plate, Jessica lay her head down on the
log, hoping that she would sleep. This was a difficult task because she did
not find herself tired, rather she was strangely aroused. After ten years in
thermo freeze this was to be expected. It had nothing to do with her
travelling companion, the way he treated her or the way her fed her dinner.
Although the only man around was a barbarian, she couldn’t help but fantasize
that he would extract some kind of payment from her as they travelled north.
With these thoughts she drifted into sleep.

Jason nudged her with his boot. Jessica stirred and kissed his foot as she
slept. He nudged her a second time and she awoke as she prepared to kiss his
foot again. Jessica had dreamt he had torn away her foolish silver environment
suit and instead had given her several skimpy pieces of fur to wear.
Before she was allowed to accompany him to the north she was told she must
kiss his boots. She did so willingly, only to wake and discover it had
been a dream.

Night having fallen, he unchained her neck, allowing her to rise to her feet.
Leading her to the car, he chained her to the floor of the back seat. “Why
can’t I sit in the front seat?” she demanded.

Jason smiled, “If there is trouble, I don’t want my cargo damaged”.

“You bastard” she spat.

Jessica’s position did not provide her with a good view of the events which
transpired. From where she lay, it was obvious that Jason was driving at a
high speed towards the bridge. There was no light on dash board and therefore
she assumed he was driving without head lights. The ride was surprisingly
smooth despite the adverse conditions under which they travelled.
Once again she was impressed at his ability to drive. This time the
conditions were even worse, it was at night, without headlights,
on roads which had not been repaired in ten years. He truly was a rare breed
of man; she would make him pay for his arrogance.

The car accelerated suddenly. Jessica assumed that they had reached the
bridge. Bending her body upward she could see Jason with one hand
on the wheel and the other holding a pistol. The barrel was pointed out
the window. Firing several shots, he cut the wheel sharply as if
to avoid something. Thrown back on the floor by the sudden maneuver,
Jessica let out a scream as the windshield shattered spraying glass in all
directions. Even where she lay, shielded by the front seats, she was showered
by flying pieces of glass. As something large bounced off the hood of the
car, it did not waver from its course for a moment. Obviously, some `skag’
had gotten in Jason’s way. The car roared on steadily and Jessica realized
that they had reached safety.

After a seemingly endless amount off time Jason pulled over.
Lifting her carefully from the back seat, he asked if she was all right.
Jessica nodded, having been taken aback by his sudden change in attitude.
He had been so tender carrying her from the back seat and seemed to caress her
as he dusted the pieces of glass from the outside of her jumpsuit.

Jason’s face was covered with blood. This didn’t seem to bother him
and Jessica knew enough first aid to realize that even the smallest
facial wound bleeds torrents. Jessica felt a tinge of sadness as he removed
the neck chain and untied her hands. “Take off your clothes.” he said as
he removed his jacket. Jessica juiced in anticipation. He brushed
the glass off his shirt and shook his jacket out. Instead of throwing her
on her back and using her, he placed his jacket around her and shook the glass
out of her jump suit.

Ignoring her, he made sure there was no glass left in her jump suit. The only
passion he could muster was a look minor look of disdain for her foolish
choice of attire in a post nuclear world. Jessica could only glare at him.
She had been rejected again. With her standing there in only her skimpy
undergarments, how could he be immune to her beauty?

She took off his jacket and her bra exposing her breasts to him. Her nipples
were erect with desire but all Jason could muster was a perplexed look.
Jessica removed her lacy bra and brought it to her mouth in order to moisten
it. “Its cotton” she said “It is the only thing I have that will clean up
the blood properly.” This obviously did not include the first aid kit which
sat idly in her pack on the back seat.

Leaning forward she brought her left breast within inches of his mouth
as she wiped the blood from his face. For a moment his whole body
tightened. Almost immediately, Jason regained his composure as Jessica
felt his body relax again. Either he was gay or he had tremendous self
control. Jessica deliberately poked the cut on his forehead in a feigned
attempt to clean it. He didn’t flinch, although she knew it must have hurt.

Rejected, she stormed back to the car and got the first aide kit. Walking
back towards Jason she started to cry. “You faggot” she screamed, throwing
the kit at him. Easily ducking the projectile, he walked towards her. Jessica
longed and expected to be struck. Instead he stood there and for the first
time appeared to be unsure of what to do.

Still sobbing she cried, “You don’t love me. You don’t find me attractive.”

Jason took a step backwards, taken aback as her tears turned quickly
into anger. Lunging forward, her nails dug into his exposed shoulders.
Grabbing her arms, he forced her to the ground. Once he was occupied with her
razor sharp finger nails, Jessica brought her head up and sunk her teeth into
his shoulder. “You bitch” he grunted, striking her across the face with the
back of his hand.

Reeling from the blow, she fell back to the ground. He dove on top of
her as she brought her knee up to greet him. Twisting his hips to the side he
took the potentially fatal blow on his right thigh. One hand
grabbed both her wrists while the other tore her panties off.
Having removed the final obstacle from her body, Jason opened his pants.
Jessica’s hands were held over her head, she was helpless. He penetrated
her thrusting into her fiercely. Each blow brought him closer and closer
to ecstasy. Finally, he exploded inside her with one last powerful thrust.
Lying there, Jessica realized that she had been used; forced against her will
to give him pleasure, after all she was only a woman.

Jessica lay blissfully, in his arms. After a while, she crawled away
for a moment to where he discarded her neck chain. With the chain
dangling between her red lips, she crawled humbly back to him. Jason
smiled as he put the chain around her neck, fastening the other side
somewhere underneath the car.

He wrapped one arm around Jessica and clutched he long silky hair with
his free hand. “Listen to me” he said “I already lost someone special
in this bitch of a world. I’m not planning on loosing you. Do it my way, on
my terms and we will survive.”

“Yes, master” she replied as a tear of joy fell from her eye. Jessica
hoped she would make him happy. He loved her and had opened up to her
by letting her into his life. By overcoming his loss and loving her,
Jessica was left with no choice but to reciprocate his feelings by becoming
his slave.

The next morning Jessica woke to find a plate with the remainder of
breakfast on it. Without using her hands she ate it.

Jason was busy in the car. He had removed the shattered windshield and
was doing something behind the front seats. Removing the chain
from where it was fastened underneath the car he pulled Jessica to her feet.
“I made something for you.” he said.

The floor behind the front seats was covered with several blankets and
a piece of small fur. There was also a pillow there. “It is your
slave nest. We don’t want your beauty to attract undesired attention and
we wouldn’t want you hurt.”

“Yes, master” she replied.

“By the way”, he added, “I want you to use that piece of fur to make
yourself a more suitable outfit.” She nodded. “Also, I also don’t feel it
would be in my, I mean our best interest to head towards Arrow Point right
now. I think the `perfect’ society would be too restrictive.” Kissing her
he added, “I have everything I could possibly want right now.”

“Yes, master”, she cried giving him a kiss. “I will make an outfit
which I hope you will find pleasing.”

“I find the one you are wearing now quite pleasing”. With that he
placed her on all fours and took advantage of her lack of attire.

“Yes, master” she cried.

It was almost time for Stephanie to get home and Alicia was getting warm
with excitement at the thought. She was finishing the vacuuming, the
last of the housework that she had told her to do that day. Nothing
thrilled her more than playing servant to the tall, imperious girl she
had married. She was so beautiful and she loved her so much – that
kneeling in submission before her was the supreme pleasure in her life.
She had a hard-on in her tight panties, beneath the frilly white apron
that covered them, truly a slave of love to that girl.

She heard the front door open and a tingle of titillation went through
her. Then she stepped into the living room : a gorgeous creature with
long dark hair. She stood with hands on hips, watching her finish her
tasks, clad in the white silk blouse and neat black skirt she had worn
that day to the office where she was a rising young executive. She had
a look of disapproval on her face as she stepped across the freshly
vacuumed carpet and dropped into an easy-chair.

“I’m tired, Alicia,” she sighed. “it’s been a hard day, one conference
after another. And some of my underlings are no better than you.
Inefficient. I have to do everything myself.” She nodded, shutting off
the vacuum cleaner as she motioned for her to set it aside and come
to her. “Remove my shoes,” she snapped, “and then massage my feet.”

“Yes, Mistress,” she said, hurrying over and addressing her in the
form she most liked to hear. It thrilled her just to say those words,
the submissive words of a love slave, and she was soon on her knees at
her feet.

With a feeling of reverence mixed with growing passion, Alicia lifted
one of the feet Stephanie offered her and caressed the well-polished
shoe. She removed it,setting it aside, then took the stockinged foot
in the palm of her hands. This was the finest prize she could imagine
as she stroked the smooth foot, admired the perfect form, then bent to
bestow a worshipful kiss.

Stephanie moved forward in the chair, raising her black skirt as she
did so,then parting her legs. “Get your head between my thighs,
Slave,” she ordered her, “and eat my pussy.”

It was involuntary movement as Alicia nodded in submission, setting down
her foot to bend her body towards her wife. As she moved closer to the
edge of the chair she pressed her face between the smooth, white pillars
of her thighs, getting an incredibly strong whiff of her passion. Her
lips touched the soft succulent skin that covered the clefted little
mound of her pussy and the fragrance of her juices increased so strongly
that she suddenly thrust her tongue deep into her cunt and swallowed her
juices. The more Alicia licked her wifes pussy, the hotter it felt and
her
juices were flowing even more. She could hear her softly moaning above
her as she lapped away on her marvelous twat.

She felt her quiver with a mild orgasm, and when that had passed she
heard her speak. “Undress me, Alicia,” she commanded; and it was an order
that never failed to excite her further.

She came up from between her thighs with trembling fingers and reached
or the buttons that ran down the front of her white silk blouse. She
undid them carefully, seeing the bulging white curves of her breasts as
the garment parted. She stood, nearly kicking her aside as she did so,
and let the blouse fall over the soft curves of her shoulders. Her
large, shapely breasts jiggled enticingly as she stared up at them. She
put her moist fingers in the waistband of her black skirt, then pulled
it down over her slender ankles, and she stood before her nearly naked,
wearing only a black and red garter belt and the nylon stockings it
suspended.

“Get my red negligee, Slave, “Stephanie said.

“Yes, mistress,” she replied gladly, scrambling for the bedroom, her
cock a stiff stick in her panties, impeding her progress.

She returned with her finest negligee; and as she stood tall in the
middle of the living room she placed it reverently over her voluptuous
body. In her high heels she seemed to tower over her, her perfect
breasts bobbing beneath the see-through material of her negligee. The
rest they were able to do without speech, and soon Stephanie was seated
on their tan leather couch, legs and negligee parted, feet propped up
for comfort.

Alicia knew what to do without being told. As Stephanie leaned back,
relaxing after her hard days work, her husband knelt between her legs
and pressed her aching mouth to the split mound of her pussy. Her
tongue was like a flicking snake, caressing up and down the inner lips
of her pussy, then stimulating the pink nubbin of her clit. She had her
moaning with pleasure as she lapped the juices from deep inside her wet
pussy.

When they were done, she ordered her to stand; and that’s when she
noticed the stiffness of her rod. It tented out the front of her panties
poking up the white apron that covered her front.

“Drop you panties,” she ordered in a scolding tone of voice. “Look at
that lump in your panties, it’s disgraceful.”

Afire with lust and excitement, Alicia undid the buckle of her belt,
unzipped her panties and slowly lowered them to the floor. Her rod sprang
free, huge and stiff and wavering in front of the tall imperious woman.
Stripping for her always excited her, made her feel somehow like a little
girl dropping her drawers before a beautiful woman teacher.

Once her panties were off, Stephanie rose and stood over her in her high
heeled shoes. She knelt, looked up at the spread lips of her pussy and
quickly went to work. Her tongue was moving as rapidly as a piston in a
stock car as she licked her cunt lips up and down, then stimulated her
clit some more. When she had come, she ordered her to the couch, where
she sat with her rod sticking straight up from her naked lap.

She came to her and straddled her legs, parting her thighs widely as
she settled into her lap. Her huge cock poked apart the delicate lips of
her pussy, and as she lowered her body to her the entire shaft of her
cock slid up her sheath. She rode slowly up and down on her dick, fucking
her, arousing her madly. Her prick was so hard that her upstroke brought
her from her lap to nearly a standing position, and when she went back
down again to engulf her bone, she shuddered from the feeling.

She fucked her like that till she wanted some different stimulation on
the inside of her pussy, then carefully worked her way around till her
back was to her. Obediently she sat there letting her wife control the
movements of the fuck, her rod a stiff pole for her wifes pleasure.

When she was through using her in that manner she rose off her, her
huge cock drawing slowly out of the wet slit of her cunt. She perched
on the arm of the couch and ordered her to rise. Alicia got up, her rod
sticking straight out, and she swung around in front of her. Then, as she
sat with one foot propped up, she had her stand in between her thighs,
probe into her pussy with the long shaft of her cock, and then fuck
gently in and out of her pussy. She was moaning with pleasure, sighing
with another orgasm, as she stroked in and out of her hot, tight hole.

“Now I want you to really fuck me good, husband,” she said with a
pleased smile as she drew her rod from her pussy.

She got up and went to the couch, positioning herself on her hands
and knees. Alicia knew what to do. This was one of the most exciting ways
for them to fuck, a position that thrilled them both. She sat on the
couch behind her, her rod between her thighs and into the tight channel
of her pussy from the rear. Gripping her waist, she began to slide into
her. Her cock filled her hole tightly, the hotly lubricated channel of
her sweet young cunt.

She fucked her again and again, till she came loudly, then dropped flat
to the couch. Alicia pulled out shooting her load all over her tight ass
then
rubbed it in. She was on her stomach for a long while, and when she awoke
it was to order her into the bedroom.

Their bed chamber was a seductive room, with rust-hued walls and a
gorgeous bronze-like bedspread. They were quickly naked, except for
Stephanies garter belt and nylons, then lounged on the large bed. She
wanted some more of that doggie-style fucking that Alicia was giving her
on the couch, so she got on her hands and knees and ordered her to fuck
her. Gladly, her husband got in behind her on the bed on her knees and
stuck her rod up her cunt from behind. Then she shoved it in and out,
battering her shapely buttocks with her loins as she fucked her harder
and harder.

When she withdrew, Stephanie rolled over onto her back, pulling her on
top of her. Her body was coated with sweat, her forehead beaded with
dewy perspiration and her rod as stiff as it had ever been in her life
as she mounted her. She tossed her head, moaning softly as she felt her
dick penetrate the soft barrier of her pussy. She was over her like a
real man now, aroused again to a fever pitch of maddened lust. She was
pounding her cock into her tight hole, fucking into her as hard as she
could, pistoning her pole as rapidly as possible.

She knew she couldn’t hold her come much longer, and even though she
jerked her dick out of her pussy in an effort to control it, she shot
off all over her stomach and everywhere. Stephanie loved it as she
felt burst after hot burst of her sticky cum splatter on her belly
and tits.

They lay panting on the bed for some time, then rose and went to the
bathroom where they both washed themselves clean. They returned to the
bed chamber, as Stephanie threw on her negligee again. Together, they lay
in each others arms on the soft, bronzed bedspread, talking about the
lovemaking that had gone on before. They both agreed that it had been
good, at least as good as any time in the past. And the more they talked,
the more aroused they became again.

Alicia’s cock wasn’t hard enough for her to fuck her again, but there
was
another way she could please her wife, and she suggested it! (Major
accomplishment here, everyone give her a big hand). Soon she was on her
back on the bed, her negligee wide open, her thighs spread to bare her
pussy. Alicia got on her stomach between her legs and pressed her lips to
her cunt lips. Soon she was sucking gently, and it wasn’t long before she
was quaking from another orgasm. She continued her pleasant task, till
Stephanie laid back, still and satisfied.

Then Alicia turned over onto her back, her dick semi-hard, fairly
begging
to be sucked back to full length. When her wife roused from the wonderful
stupor induced by her cunt-lapping, she got over her cock and fiddled with
it. The more she played with it the harder it got, till finally she slid
her lips over the head. It swelled up in her mouth, hardening as she
sucked,and in time her lips were gliding up and down the length of her
raging hard-on. She sucked for a long time, because she was able to
control
herself for quite a while.

At last she came, shooting off and hitting the roof of her mouth with
her cum. She parted her lips, letting the stuff roll out. She loved the
taste of Alicia’s cum in her mouth, loved the sensation of the stuff
rolling
over her lower lip.

They fell asleep in each others arms.

LOVE
YOUR SLUT
ALICIA

–

It was during this photo session that I realized that “G” was a
true submissive and was able to satisfy my dominate personality. I
placed my slave in several exposing poses and ensured that her
posture and position displayed her sexuality and humility to full
advantage.

As slave “G” passed her first test with unique enthusiasm I
decided to test her level of pain endurance and obedience. She
was bound to the bed, face down at wrists and ankles by white cords.
She was instructed to request each stroke of the whip, count it’s
number out loud, and thank her master after each stroke. The whip
strokes where light initially but soon progressed to forcefully,
strategically placed, strokes of pain. Could the slave follow in-
structions and yet maintain control over her feelings and emotions?
Did she have the endurance that I required? Slave “G” performed
remarkably well for her first experience with discipline. She was
able to ask for and tolerate several strokes of the whip thus con-
firming my belief that she truly accepted her status as a sexual
slave.

During this discipline session I was stimulated by the sight of her
naked buttocks squirming at the kiss of each whip stroke and the
resulting marks of discipline that were engraved upon her cheeks. This
visual conformation of her punishment session was also recorded on film
so that the session could be recalled after it faded from my mind.
After reviewing the photographs that had been taken I decided to record
the next session on videotape for a more realistic review and critique
of her performance. I set up the equipment in the living room and
called my slave to position in front of the camera. I had her kneel on
the sofa, facing the wall with her ass toward the camera and bound her
wrists to fixtures spaced on the wall. As I stood back to appraise my
slave’s appearance I could see the sexual excitement of the moment in
her posture and conduct. Slave “G” was stimulated by the situation and
was eager yet apprehensive of what was to follow.

I probed her body and toyed with her ass, cunt and breasts for
several minutes and took her to the brink of orgasm several
times only to stop and not allow her sexual relief. Slave “G”
soon realized the total control that I maintained over her. Her
twisting and quivering body only served to amplify the
frustration she was suffering at my control. Soon she was
begging for relief and this became an excellent opportunity to
take my slave to new situations and experiences that she would
be required to endure as a sex slave.

I gave slave “G” several strokes of the whip while fettered to
the wall and then released her only to bind her to an ottoman in
front of the camera. She was on her belly with her wrists bound
behind her back and her legs spread wide. I used the whip again
on her ass and left the marks of slavery engraved. She was told
that she would be given to others to use as they saw fit if she
did not perform to my satisfaction. The video camera recorded
the events of a new slave in training and her attempt to please
her master. Slave “G” was able to accept several strokes of the
whip and count each one even as her ass was rebounding from the
pain. At the conclusion of the whip session I was extremely
happy that slave “G” had proved herself so well and was also
sexually stimulated by the realization that I now owned a truly
submissive sex slave. My sexual relief was also a test for my
newly acquired slave. Was she able to suck cock while bound and
without the use of her hands ? Could she swallow a full load of
her masters cum without gagging or creating a mess? Slave “G”
again responded in a truly subservient manner and sucked my cock
until I shot my load deep into her throat . Despite her efforts,
slave “G” was unable to swallow my full load and after leaving
my cum on her face I proceeded to punish her with another
whipping and realized that cock sucking would require more
effective training before I was satisfied with her performance.
The video tape was used to critique her performance and point
out the areas that she needed to improve upon.

My business soon required my transfer to another part of the
country and it became obvious that slave “G” was soon to make a
lifelong commitment to slavery or depart her masters company.
Being a true submissive and having found a new lifestyle that
gave her the discipline that she longed for, slave “G” followed
her master to his new environment. It was at this time I
realized my responsibility as a master and that my newly
acquired slave would need a set of rules to live by and follow
if I was to continue to enjoy her devotion to me. I developed
the rules for slavery and had slave “G” read them aloud. She was
to acknowledge them by her signature to a slave oath and
contract thus making a lifelong commitment to her master that
she would perform her duties without question or hesitation.
Throughout this early period in the new surroundings slave “G”
was frequently tested and disciplined. I developed new bondage
devices such as leather wrist handcuffs.

I decided to train slave “G” to become accustomed to severe
temperature changes to her body. Slave “G” was bound to the bed
by her wrists and ankles and I toyed with her cunt and nipples
until she was begging for release and orgasm. I then used ice
cubes rubbed over her nipples and pussy to make her accustomed
to the cold. The agony of this training was evident in her body
manipulations and facial expressions. I soon placed a few ice
cubes in her cunt and allowed her to melt the cubes with her
natural body heat. I also desired to train slave “G” to accept
the discomfort of heat. To effect this goal I used two methods
of subjecting slave “G” to heat. The first and most erotic was
the use of hot wax dripped from a burning candle. This method is
very effective since the slave is allowed to watch the candle
burn. I would drip the wax on slave “G”’s breasts and ass and
would vary the distance from the skin to adjust the temperature
from stimulating to painful. It was also exciting to sit back
and gaze upon the splotches of hardened wax stuck to her nipples
and belly. The other training method I employed was the use of
Ben-Gay ointment on slave “G”’s nipples, ass, and crotch. This
method is an extremely effective punishment since the effects
are long lasting and tortuous. Ben-Gay may also be used while
you take your slave out in public but do not desire to cause a
public spectacle. With slave “G”, just the threat of such
punishment will extract a most humble attitude and desire to
please.

My next training session with slave “G” was designed to test her
desire for others to witness her status and to test her
willingness to appear in public as a slave. I had slave “G”
dress in her slave outfit; hose, heels, and garter belt and sent
her to the corner store for some personal items. since it was
cold and snowing I allowed slave “G” to wear a long coat but it
could only have the top two buttons buttoned.

This was not a difficult test but it did prove embarrassing for
slave “G” as the coat fell open and exposed her bare legs and
cunt as she climbed out of the car. Once inside the store, slave
“G” was required to wait in line to pay for the purchases and
the mere thought of her nakedness under the coat was sufficient
to cause her to return to the car, her cunt dripping wet. I’m
sure the men in the store were able to identify the sexual odor
that the slave was giving off. When slave “G” returned to the
car she had difficulty getting in without her coat falling open
and displaying her cunt to those parked next to us. Although
embarrassed due to her exposure slave ” G” was willing to do
what ever her master desired.

The next project I decided to attempt was to pierce slave “G”’s
nipples and cunT. I felt that this would be an excellent gift
from my slave and at the same time serve a useful purpose and
provide an erotic physical adornment to her body. I told slave
“G” that I wanted her nipples pierced first, then when I was
satisfied I would have her cunt done so that a small gold chain
could be attached to any or all of the piercings and I could lead her
by the chains. I decided that the easiest method would be to use self
piercing earrings and have slave “G” wear them until the tissue was
healed. I took slave “G” to a local jewelry store and had her
purchase the earrings and at the same time I instructed her to
purchase a gold ankle chain with the word “SLAVE” engraved upon
it. I was sure that the combined purchases would cause slave “G”
some embarrassment. The clerk at the store asked slave “G” a
second time what she wanted engraved upon the ankle chain and
then looked at her with the knowledge of slave “G”’s status as a
bondage sex slave. When slave “G” returned home I had her change
into her slave outfit and placed the ankle chain upon her left
ankle. She was instructed that it was never to be removed, for
it was to be a constant reminder of her slavery. Next, I had
slave “G” place the earrings upon her nipples and told her to
look at her self in the mirror. As I stood behind her and
commented on the erotic nature of her jewelry I also felt her
cunt and noticed that the ring s indeed had an erotic effect
upon my slave. Unfortunately the rings did not exert sufficient
pressure to pierce the nipples and I was left with only visions
in my mind of my slave standing before me with gold rings
attached to her nipples and a thin gold chain dangling from
them. I decided to use this failure as a test of my slave’s
devotion to her lifestyle. I told slave “G” that she was to
pierce her own nipples as an act of love and devotion to her
master. She accepted this task and collected the needle and
alcohol necessary for the task. At this time I had to depart due
to my job but told slave “G” that I expected to come home to a
slave with pierced nipples in a few months. This task was slave
“G”’s downfall. She was unable to find the courage necessary to
make this total commitment to her master. I guess that I will be
forced to carry out the piercing or send her to a professional
to have the task completed. I wonder if slave “G” is willing to undergo
the pain and embarrassment of having another complete the task?

*****THE END*****

Q: Why do men whistle when they’re sitting on the toilet?
A: Because it helps them remember which end they need to wipe.

Q: What is the difference between men and women?
A: A woman wants one man to satisfy her every need. A man wants every
woman to satisfy his one need.

Q: How does a man keep his youth?
A: By giving her money, furs and diamonds.

Q: How do you keep your husband from reading your e-mail?
A: Rename the mail folder to instruction manuals