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#1: Kayla's Story

My Dom fucked me in front of His wife to punish her for burning supper. She knew about me from the beginning, but we had never met. When she burned his supper that evening, he left the house angrily, picked me up without warning, and drove me to his home. I knew better than to ask questions, and when he told me to wait in the car, I did. He went back inside and told his wife (also his submissive) to strip and wait for him in their bedroom. He returned to me and escorted me into the house. He groped me all the way down the hallway, kissing and biting me until I was worked up, then he drew me into the bedroom. I didn't notice her at first, but I heard her gasp, and I realized we weren't alone. He grabbed my ass and squeezed it tightly as he kissed me deeply, and then he ordered me to undress and climb onto the bed. I obeyed, and he turned to his wife. He said, "Watch me fuck my new slut. Don't close your eyes, don't make a sound. Just watch. This is your punishment."


When he turned to me again, I was completely naked and kneeling in the position he preferred on the bed. He studied me, reaching out, cupping my breasts, fondling them and my pussy. I tried not to look at his wife, but my eyes went to her several times, and I could see the hurt in her eyes. I felt guilty, but I had to obey my Dom. I ached to obey him, to serve him, to be used by him. When he told me to masturbate for him, I leaned back in their marriage bed, spread my legs like the naughty slut he loved, and rubbed my clit for him until moisture seeped onto the sheet. He watched me as he rubbed his cock, and then he grabbed my ankles and yanked me to the edge of the bed, thrusting into my soaked cunt without a word. I groaned, loving the fullness of him inside of me. He began to move quickly, pummeling my pussy as sounds of our fucking filled the room, skin slapping skin, moans and sighs, and the wet slide of his cock in my womanhood. I pinched my nipples as he used me, and he grunted his approval, leaning down to bite one of the hardened nubs. His teeth on my flesh made my body quiver, and soon, I was cumming in exquisite abandon. 

He pulled out of me, and then he ordered his wife onto the bed. She slowly obeyed, dread obvious in her movements, and he told her to kneel and to watch, to take notes on how to please him because she'd obviously forgotten. I saw tears fill her eyes, and I closed my own to avoid the sorrow in her face. Guilt clawed at me, but there was nothing I could do. 

Her husband, my Dom, took all three of my holes in front of her on that bed, her aging body a stark contrast to my younger one. She bounced on the mattress as he fucked me hard and fiercely; she  heard him praise my tightness, my sluttiness, my beauty, my obedience; she heard him moan my name as he came inside of me multiple times. And when he was sated, he stretched out on the bed and pulled me against him, wrapping his arms around me and spooning me in their bed, his wife kneeling on the other side of me, watching. He caressed my aching body, whispered praises that she no doubt heard, gave me tender kisses as he soothed me. 


I fell asleep for a little while, and when I awoke, he still held me, and she still knelt and watched, her cheeks swollen from her tears. I turned in my Dom's arms to face him so that I didn't have to watch her. He pulled me closer in him in sleep, and I kissed his chest before snuggling closer. A little later, he awoke, kissed my forehead and told me to dress, and then he drove me home.

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#2: Emry

 

I wanted to make a good impression during the interview, so I dressed carefully, wearing a pencil black skirt, lavender blouse with a sweet collar embellished with feminine embroidery, and black pumps that were not too high to be inappropriate but with enough heel to give me some height. I pulled my dark hair back on one side, clipping it with a simple hairpin, and letting it fall in thick curls down to hit past my shoulders. I wore just a light dusting of makeup, and I finished off my professional look with simple pearl earrings. Nothing ostentatious, but I knew that I stood out. 

It isn't that I am conceited or self-absorbed. I've just always had people staring at me, some with envy, others with curiosity, and many with desire. Whatever the reason for the glance, I usually ignored the person, not wanting to bring unnecessary attention to the person's obvious gaze. Today was no different as I sauntered into the high-rise building and rode the elevator to the 10th floor for my interview. I felt people's eyes on me, but as was my usual M.O., I straightened my shoulders and ignored them, walking with my head upright and an air of confidence that was part truth and part bravado. WhenI arrived at the office for my interview, the secretary motioned for me to join the roomful of hopefuls who sat in the waiting area. Men and women with eager, shiny faces sat in their best clothes, awaiting their time to persuade the boss that he or she was the best candidate for the job. I smiled at a shy looking young woman who glanced at me with curiosity. That I could handle; the leers from a couple of the guys in one corner, I could do without. 

I sat beside the girl, and she fidgeted, tugging the hem of her shirt away from her chubby body. She was cute beneath the extra layers of flesh, but I could tell that she was self-conscious about her weight. 

"Hi, I'm Emry," I said, holding out a my hand toward her. She looked at me in surprise and then smiled, shaking my hand with a professionally strong grip and telling me that her hame was Melissa. We chatted about being nervous for the interview, and I learned that she and her best friend both had applied for the job, and the friend was being interviewed as we spoke. 

As though on cue, the door opened, and a friendly, grinning young man exited the interior office. He thanked the secretary and then sat on the other side of Melissa, a grin beaming on his good-looking face. 

"Hey, how'd it go?" Melissa asked, her nerves disappearing and a sparkle of adoration dancing in her eyes as she looked up at her friend. 

"It went great! I..."

"Melissa Waters, your interview is next," intoned the sharp voice of the secretary, and the man patted the girl's shoulder, wishing her luck as she trekked into the other office.

We'd sat in silence for no more than three minutes, when the interior door flew open, and Melissa ran from the room, her sweet face streaked with tears, and her cheeks beet red. In a flash, the young man was by her side, but the crying girl was incoherent when she attempted to answer his questions. Finally, he ushered her from the room, and I looked back at the secretary, her lips forming a thin line of disapproval. Her phone flashed, and she picked up the receiver, responding with a curt, "Yes, sir, I understand. It won't happen again." 

The secretary replaced the receiver on the phone and picked up her clipboard before moving toward the six of us still in the waiting area. She pushed up her glasses and then said in a brittle voice, "The male intern position has been filled, so you gentlemen may leave," she said, waving her hand to the two guys who had been eyeing me. Both frowned in disappointment but left the office quickly, and then the woman surveyed the four females remaining in the room. She studied each of us carefully, and then she read from the clipboard before finally calling out, "Emry Carter, you're next." 

Surprised because I'd been the last to arrive, I stood hurriedly and clinched my leather purse in my hands, following her motion toward the interior office. Clearing my throat, I opened the door and entered the room, closing the door behind me.

The smell of leather and peppermint engulfed me, and I immediately noticed the two men and a woman sitting at one end of a long meeting table.

"Now this is more like it," came the rough voice of the man sitting across from the woman. She nodded, and all three stared at me as I walked deeper into the room. 

"Welcome, Emry. I'm Daniel McAdams," said the man at the head of the table. He was the oldest of the trio, and he had a kind face lined with wrinkles. "This is brother, David McAdams, and his wife, Rosa."

They proceeded to interview me about my qualifications, my background, and vision for the future. Finally, Rosa spoke up, "I think she's perfect for you, Daniel. Just what you envisioned."

"Mhm, I agree," concurred her husband, eyeing me with a naughty twinkle in his eyes.

"Yes, I do believe you are right," Daniel replied, standing and walking toward me. "Now, Emry, one last question," he said, standing before me, his hard, lean body obvious in the tailored suit he wore. "Why do you want this internship as my personal slut?"

My heart pounded, and I swallowed, looking up at the man and speaking clearly and honestly, "I'm tired of my job. Tired of working in a field that I can't get ahead in. The only pleasure I've found in months is when I submit at Club Eppox--your BDSM club, Sir. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than submitting to you as one of your personal sluts."

Mr. McAdams surveyed me carefully, motioning for me to stand, and I obeyed. He circled me, his eyes taking in every aspect of my clothing and boring beneath it, no doubt sizing out my body beneath the clothes. "Very well, we will move on to the application part of the interview. Kneel."

Immediately, I dropped to my knees, my eyes locked on his. "Suck my cock, slut," he commanded, and with trembling hands, I unzipped his trousers.

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*NOTE: This story is not about an experience I had but one based on an experience a friend had. My friend became a slut/slave for a wealthy businessman who happened to own a Lifestyle club. She heard about the interview while at the club with friends, so she decided to apply. It was not a paying job, but she did receive an allowance for being at his beck and call. Similarly, the young man hired earlier in the story became the slut/slave of the married couple. The husband liked to be cuckold, and his wife enjoyed younger men. Eventually, the Dom my friend served shared her with his brother, too. She still serves the Dom, but the young man left the arrangement quickly because he realized he was in love with his chubby best friend. Names have been changed, of course.

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  • 2 weeks later...

The New Year's Eve Primal Play Party

Many years ago, my (now former) Master and I went to a Primal Play Party to ring in the New Year. I didn't have much experience with that type of play, but Master wanted to participate more. 

The party was held in a wooded area of the host's property, and the subs were "released" naked into the woods. We wore only our collars with little bells attached to them. The Masters hunted us down like animals. If a Master captured a sub who did not belong to him, he could use her if she wore a green bell. If she wore a red bell, he had to release her and continue hunting. Of course, if he captured his own sub, he could use her as he desired. 

Master chose the green bell for me (we'd discussed it previously, and he said it was time to push my limits). When I was released, I ran deeply into the woods and hid in a cluster of trees and bushes, tempted to hold my bell in my hand to prevent it from echoing into the night. Doing so would be cheating, though, and I knew Master would be displeased, so I forced myself to behave and squatted quietly, breathing slowly and remaining as still as I could.

The rules of the party were simple for the slaves: Fight against the Masters, whether it was you own or another. Do not let yourself be captured and used before midnight, or you forfeit a prize. (Slaves with a red bell were disqualified if they were captured and marked with a bite. Slaves with a green bell were disqualified if they were used and marked with a bite.)

Determined to get the prize and to not be used by anyone but my Master, I remained still for what felt like hours. I listened quietly as little bells tinkled in the night sky, sounds of running echoed, and groans of ecstasy trembled in the crisp air. Suddenly, I heard someone walking nearby, his footsteps heavy in the crunch of leaves. I bit my bottom lip, my heart pounding in nervousness. He passed me without slowing, and just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, I shivered in the cool air, and I heard the tattling tinkle of my bell ringing. The man stilled in his movements and turned toward the bushes where I hid. He began stalking toward me, and I stood, stared him straight in the eyes, then turned and fled. I ran as quickly as I could, sometimes stumbling over tree roots and wincing when I stubbed my toe. Still, I ran, passing up a couple mid-fucking, past a duo of subs whispering as they fondled each other, and then I felt the world tilt and I was on the ground, the man's heavy body pushing me into the dirt and leaves.

My breath whooshed out at once, and I felt lightheaded as he flipped me over to look at me. Holding me down with his body pressed against mine, he reached for my collar, holding the bell up to the moonlight to check its color. He grinned when he saw the green glint in the moonlight. He shifted, and I could breath again. Placing both hands on his chest, I attempted to shove him off of me, but he barely budged, and instead, he gripped my wrists and held them tightly above my head. Not to be deterred, I thrust my hips around trying to buck him off of me, but he just ground his hips against mine, pinning me down tightly. I whimpered, trying to squirm away, but he responded by slapping my breasts and thighs. Breathing hard, I fought against him, trying to get away before he marked me, but just as I thought I was gaining the upper hand, he lowered his mouth to my breast and bit...hard.

I whimpered in pain and defeat, knowing that I had lost the game. I hate losing. Frustrated, I still fought against him, but he gripped my pussy tightly, two fingers sinking into my folds without any warning, and I stilled, eyes wide, gasping as arousal overtook me.

"Mmm...you like that," he growled, and he began playing my pussy as surely as a musician plays his instrument. Soon, I was crying out my release, gushing over his hand. He laughed in satisfaction then held his fingers to my lips. I obediently licked them clean, and then he shifted, moving so that he was directly over my face. He unfastened his belt and pulled out his cock, stroking it twice, but it was already hard. He grabbed my mouth, squeezing it to force it open, and then he thrust into my throat.

He fucked my mouth hard, ruthlessly, like an animal fucking his mate. 

I struggled to breath, choking on his thick, long cock as he sheathed it in my throat. Tears fell down my cheeks, and my heart pounded in excitement and a little fear as he used my hole. When he was ready, he pulled out and shot his cum all over my face, coving me with the sticky gift. 

"Thank you," he said hoarsely as he stood and tucked himself back into his leather. He kissed my forehead and left me there, lying in the dirt and leaves, and all I could think of was how badly I needed my pussy filled. 

I got onto my knees, crawling a few feet away to hide in the shadows of three close-growing tress, and I wiped the cum from my face as best I could. I wrapped my arms around my knees, hot tears streaming down my cheeks. I didn't really know why I was crying. I just felt more emotions in those moments than I'd felt in a long time. When I finished crying, I wiped the tears from my face, and I felt exhausted but somehow free. I felt as though a great burden had been lifted. Confused but happy, I stood, smiling, and I began to find my way back to the entrance of the woods because I knew the game was almost over. 

Just as the edge of the woods came into view, I was pushed to the ground, my face smacking into the dirt. I winced, and then I felt familiar hands flip me over, and I saw Master's beloved face hovering over me. He stared into my face, checking my eyes, and then he ran his hands over every inch of my skin, searching, checking. His fingertips traced the bite mark on my breast, and he looked into my eyes again. 

"Where?" he asked gently.

"Mouth," I replied, a blush covering my cheeks.

He nodded, and then he held my face in his hands as he kissed me gently at first, tenderly, lovingly. I sighed, my body moving like molten lava beneath his. 

"I am proud of you, my little one," he murmured.

Tears of joy filled my eyes, and I smiled up at him, my heart in my throat as I replied in a husky whisper, "Thank you, Master."

He kissed me harder then, taking what was his, and I happily gave him all. When he thrust into my wet pussy, I felt as though the earth shifted, and I gasped in pleasure. He pushed my legs back beside my ears, and he tightly gripped my thighs as he began to fuck me hard and deep, owning the cunt beneath him, as was his right and my desire. 

Suddenly, a loud bell rang and fireworks shot into the black sky, bursting all around us as cheers of "Happy New Year!" filled the night.

"Happy New Year, Master," I breathed out as he fucked me harder.

"The happiest yet, my sweet slut."

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*NOTE: This is based on a real experience I had with my first Master (the one who introduced me to the Lifestyle, as chronicled in my Unorthodox series. I've taken a little creative license with it, but the primary details are true.

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