This was going to be Lisa's first trip home to see her family since she had become my slave. I was going to be out of town on business for a week, so this would be a good time for her to be away. Lisa had given herself to me completely, and I controlled her life in every way, so my laying out her clothes for her as I did today was not unusual. She had worked hard under my guidance, and was in the best physical shape of her life. She had lost close to 60 pounds, and her once flabby body was toned and trim. This had the effect of emphasizing her magnificent tits, which were one of her best features. I had set out a skirt that came to mid thigh, to highlight her legs, and a tight sweater that would show off both her breasts and her new trim tummy. To the skirt and sweater I had added stockings and a suspender belt, a pair of thong panties and a pair of shoes with 2 inch heels, that wouldn't be uncomfortable on the 4 hour drive. I don't know if it was the excitement of going home that caused the slip or not, but Lisa went to the dresser and picked out a matching bra to complete her outfit. I came into the bedroom as Lisa was making a final adjustment to her suspenders and reaching for her skirt. She already had the bra and panties on, and turned quickly as I walked in and in my booming 'Master's' voice asked her, "What the fuck do you think you're doing cunt?" Immediately sensing my anger Lisa dropped to her knees and assumed her submissive pose. "Master, your slut doesn't know what she has done wrong." "Did I leave a bra out for you to put on?" "No Master." "Then why would you, a lowly slave girl, dare to presume that you should put a bra on? If I wanted you to wear one, don't you think that I would have left one out?" "I don't know Master." "You don't know? You don't know. Well maybe you need to think about it for a minute," and with that I crossed my arms across my chest and stood back and watched my kneeling slave. She began to tremble and shake as she knelt on the floor. This continued for several minutes before Lisa finally spoke. "Master, may this slut speak?" "You may." "Master, this slut has gone out without a bra many times, and has been thrilled with the pleasure that you appeared to receive from her humiliation. However, she is going home to see her family and subconsciously must have been embarrassed to go without her bra. Master, this slut is sorry for her actions, and respectfully requests that she be punished so that she will learn from her mistakes." I strode over to Lisa, and reached down to gently stroke her hair. "My sweet slave, do you think that I would place you in such a situation? I had packed bras for you in your suitcase, and I had written instructions that I was going to give you that would have instructed you to put one on in a service station bathroom before arriving at your parents. You must learn to trust me sweet slave." "Master, I'm very sorry that I ruined your surprise, and that I disobeyed you. Master, please punish me before you leave. I cannot bear to spend a week without you knowing that I have displeased you in this way." "You have displeased me greatly, and you can prove that you are sorry by staying in position as I punish you." "Master, this slut will try with all her might to maintain her position during her punishment. If she fails, please punish her some more." "Don't worry slut, I will. Get that bra off, and then put your hands at the back of your neck, fingers interlocked." Lisa quickly removed the bra, tossing it on the bed and then moved her hands to the designated position, which forced her breasts out further. I moved behind her, so that I was looking down into her cleavage. Lisa was currently in the "rest position", on her knees, legs spread, ass resting on her crossed ankles. "Kneel up." This command sent her into another position, on her knees but with her body vertical from head to knees raising her height, and more importantly for me placing her tits within easier reach. "Since it was your tits that caused the problem, which part of your body should we punish slut?" "My tits Master." I reached down and slapped the side of Lisa's right tit with my hand, causing it to sway and crash softly into its partner. "Whose tits are these?" "They are Master's tits Master." "And who decides what happens to them," I asked as I slapped the left one with my other hand. "Master does Master." "That's right, I do," I said, giving both tits a hard swat at the same time. I continued to smack both tits separately and together for several minutes, to the increasingly pain filled groans of my slave. "I want to ensure that you fully appreciate the lesson that I am trying to teach you today, so I think that some new terminology is in order. From now on these," and I grabbed big handfuls of both of Lisa's breasts for emphasis, "are no longer 'tits'. They are now to be called 'fat, saggy tit-bags'. Do you understand me slut?" "Yes Master, your slut understands. She now has two fat, saggy tit-bags that belong to her Master." "Let's make sure that you really understand slut, what's this," I asked, as I delivered a hard slap to her right tit. "That is slut's right fat, saggy tit-bag owned by her Master, Master." I then slapped her left tit very hard, causing it to crash into it's twin "And this?" "That is slut's left fat, saggy tit-bag owned by her Master, Master." I took big handfuls of both breasts and dug in with all fingers, twisting and pulling at the same time, bringing a grunt of pain from my slave. "And what are these, cunt?" Lisa's answer came through clenched teeth as she fought off the pain. "Master, they are both of slut's fat, saggy tit-bags that her Master owns." With a final twist of both breasts I let go, and moved across the room to sit in a chair. I looked at my kneeling slave, who remained in position on the floor, fingers interlocked behind her head. Her breasts were starting to bruise where I had slapped and mauled them. As I had been torturing my slave, my cock had become very hard, and I wanted some relief before leaving. I stood up and dropped my pants and underwear, and sat back down with my dick pointing up into the air. "Slut, I want you to crawl over here and blow me. Your hands are to remain in position, and you are to crawl across the floor using only your knees and tits. Begin!" "Yes Master." Lisa knelt down so that her heels were on her ass, and then with a grunt leaned forward until she fell onto her tits. Considering the abuse that I had already delivered, that contact with the floor alone must have been quite painful. However, like the eager submissive that she was, Lisa knee walked her way across to where I was sitting, dragging her abused tits across the floor the entire way. When she got to me, she twisted herself back into a more upright position, and gave me an enthusiastic blow job, swallowing every drop as I came with a groan. To her credit, she never once let her hands drop from the back of her neck. "That was an excellent blow job slut." "Thank you Master." "You're welcome." I reached out and gently stroked Lisa's face. "You have to learn to trust me slave. You know that I will cause you pain. You know that I will place you in positions and situations that will embarrass and humiliate you. However, I wouldn't put you in the position of demonstrating to your family how much of a slut you have become unless I truly believed that you were comfortable enough with that fact to actually tell them yourself." "Thank you Master, I should never have doubted you. And thank you for properly punishing your slut so that she can learn from her mistakes." "Your welcome, but I don't believe that I said your punishment was over, do you?" Lisa shuddered at this comment. Her tits, 'fat, saggy tit-bags' she reminded herself, were throbbing with pain, and were already marked with a number of bruises from the beating they had just received. The bruises would disappear in a few days, and the pain would subside fairly quickly. But she was to drive her Master to the airport within the hour, which meant that whatever other punishment he had planned would be immediate and multiply her existing pain. "No Master, you did not say that the slut's punishment was over." "I want you to open your suitcase and remove all but one of the bras that I packed for you." "Yes Master." Lisa proceeded to the bed and began unpacking. While she was doing that, I moved to the walk in closet where Lisa's clothes were kept. I selected one of our home made sandpaper bras, and two tack bras. The sandpaper bra was a full cup bra, just slightly too big for Lisa's tits. The insides of both cups were lined with pieces of sandpaper glued to the fabric. Being slightly too large ensured that the bra didn't offer complete support for her tits, so that they moved around within the cups with every step she took. This made for the maximum amount of friction between her flesh and the sandpaper, and ensured that Lisa endured the most pain possible. The tack bras were of a similar design. Both bras were also full cup, and both had been lined with tacks that would press into the skin of her tits. One of them was also too large, like the sandpaper bra, and ensured that her tits would bounce around within the bra scrapping the skin under the hundreds of tack points. The other tack bra was a "long line" bra, 2 sizes too small. This bra also had tacks secured in all of the flat surfaces that would touch her skin, except for the actual bra straps. With all these extra tacks, and being too small, it compressed her tits and forced the tacks in deeper, and forced tacks into the flesh around her ribcage, causing additional pain. In the past we had a contest to see which of the two tack bras was the worst, and Lisa agreed that the one that was too small hurt much more, except when I made her jog for 2 miles in the too large one. Lisa was standing beside the bed where her open suitcase lay, after having put the bras I had originally packed for her in the dresser. I handed her the small tack bra and told her to pack it securely in the bottom of her bag where it couldn't be accidentally found. Then I handed her the larger tack bra, and told her to put it on and finish getting dressed. She took the bra from me, and bending over from the waist she settled her wonderful tits into the cups, and reached behind her to fasten the strap at the back before carefully standing straight, wincing with obvious discomfort from the tacks pressing into the front and bottom of her recently punished tits as they rested in the cups. I went back into her closet and removed a pair of 6" spike heels. "Put these on with the rest of the clothes I have laid out for you. Pack the original 2" heels and the sandpaper bra in your smaller bag, and take all of the suitcases out to the car." "Yes Master." "Slut do the "model walk", one foot directly in front of the other, and pivot your foot and swing your shoulders as you turn a corner. I want those fat, saggy tit-bags of yours to bounce as much as possible while you are completing your work." "Yes Master, slut understands that she must make her fat, saggy tit-bags move and hurt as much as possible while moving the bags to the car." I watched Lisa put on the rest of her clothes, seeing her wince as she exaggerated every movement to ensure that her tits moved around and rubbed against the sharp points of the tacks in the bra. As she was picking up the first 2 suitcases to carry them downstairs and out to the car I startled her with another shouted command. "One case at a time cunt, this is supposed to be teaching you a lesson!" "Yes Master, this slut understands that she needs to learn not to question her Master," and with that she began the first of 5 very painful trips downstairs and out to the car, carrying one bag at a time, including all of mine. I followed Lisa as she was making the last trip downstairs, and waited for her to come back into the house, her exaggerated movements from the "model's walk", combined with the 6" heels ensuring that her tits bounced and swayed with every step. "Okay slut, I've wasted too much time having to punish you today, so we have to get going before I miss my flight. Is there anything else you need from the house before we leave?" "No Master, this slut has all that she needs." "Good," and I held my hand outstretched. "Give me your key to the house." Lisa's face changed, and tears began forming in the corners of her eyes as she dutifully reached into her purse and began to remove the key from her key ring. I could see her bottom lip start to tremble, and knew that the sobs wouldn't be too far behind as her mind began making assumptions that I was dumping her. I quickly reached out with both hands and brought them straight up, palms facing upwards, into the bottom of Lisa's tits, forcing the tacks into the bottom of her tits and wrenching a painful wail from her throat. I thought she was going to collapse from the pain, so I shouted at her to ensure she heard me. "You stupid fat cow, have you learned nothing from the punishment that I have just inflicted on you?" "M...M...Master this slut is sorry, s...sorry that she is so fat and ugly and stupid, but she doesn't know what she has done to make you want to send her away. Please Master, this slut needs to serve you. Please Master, please don't send her away." I do love to toy with Lisa's emotions, especially her sense of self worth, which she has struggled with all her life. However, I did have a plane to catch, so I needed to resolve this situation before it got out of control. "Slut, I wanted your key because I don't want you deciding on your own that you should leave your parents place early and come back here, to escape the punishment I have planned for this week." I was gently stroking the side of her tear stained face as I said this, but then held her cheek with my left hand as I slowly began slapping her right cheek with my right palm. "And the lesson you were supposed to learn today was to trust me when I give you instructions," as I continued to gently slap, slap slap on her cheek. "You have earned another very severe punishment, but we still haven't finished with the one from earlier, and I don't have time to punish you further, so this one will have to wait until I get home." Slap, slap, slap. "May this dumb, ugly piece of fuckmeat speak Master?" "You may." Slap, slap, slap. "This worthless piece of trash is sorry she has angered you Master, and she promises to try harder to please you in the future. She believes that she is unworthy of your attention and lives in constant fear of being turned way, but will work hard to prove herself to you Master and will try harder to ensure that she trusts and never questions any of your decisions in the future." I stopped slapping her face and leaned in and softly kissed her. "You must always trust me slut. You will continue to learn what happens if you don't while I am away. And when I get back, we will be having a VERY severe punishment session to correct this misbehaviour of yours. Do you understand slut. With bowed head Lisa responded "Yes Master, this slut understands." I looked at Lisa, and the makeup that she had so carefully applied before getting dressed was now smeared all down her face, and her right cheek was red from where I had been slapping it. I decided it would stay that way for the rest of the afternoon as a little exercise in humiliation. Taking the house key from her had I placed it on the table, and then led her out the front door and down to her car. Since I was going out of town I had already decided that Lisa would drive me to the airport and then head straight from there to her parents place. I had now decided to add a few stops along the way to increase her humiliation, and her physical pain, which are my two favourite forms of punishment with her. I opened the driver's door for Lisa, and she slid into the driver's seat as she knows that she should. The skirt I had chosen for her was very loose, and Lisa flipped it up so that her ass and cunt were making direct contact with the seat, which I had previously informed her was the correct way for a slut to sit in a car. Reaching across, and brushing her tack bra encased tits as I did so, I grabbed the seatbelt and belted her in place, getting a groan from Lisa as this once more drove some of the tacks into her tits. With what I had planned her tits would be hamburger by the time she got to her parents, but she didn't know that yet. I went around to the passenger side and climbed in, telling Lisa to drive. On the trip to the airport I chatted with Lisa about all kinds of mundane topics, never once mentioning what had transpired in the last hour or so. We talked like the good friends and lovers we are, because we do have a great relationship outside of the Master / slave one that is such a predominant part of our lives. Nearing the airport I began to fill Lisa in on her instructions for the week. As we stopped at a red light, I instructed her to look at her face in the mirror. She had forgotten about the tears and what it had done to her makeup, and gasped as she saw her mascara stained face for the first time. "Master, this slut is so sorry. This slut knows that she is to look her best at all times for her Master." "Its okay slut, I kind of like this look. In fact, I like it so much that you must remain like this until the final rest stop on the highway before the exit to your parents place. I want you to make sure that you are very friendly to everyone you see on the highway, so make sure you try to make eye contact with everyone in every car that you pass, and once you are sure they are looking at you be sure to give them a little smile and wave, so that they know that you are fine, and happy with the way you look. Does my little piggy understand this instruction, or are we going to have to schedule an additional punishment session on top of the one you have coming when I get back?" "Master, your piggy understands that she is to try and humiliate herself with every person she can while on the highway" "Good. When you reach the rest stop make sure you don't clean your makeup off until you get into the bathroom, understand?" "Yes Master." "When you re-apply your makeup, make it as whorish as you think you can get away with your parents, and make sure to keep it that way all week. Understand?" "Yes Master, the greatest acceptable level of whore makeup all week." "Now, we still have the issue of the remaining punishment for those fat, saggy tit-bags of yours, don't we?" "Yes Master, this slave needs to complete her punishment of her fat saggy tit-bags." "I'm glad that you understand. When we leave the airport, make sure that you sit properly, and make sure that you pull your seatbelt tight. Do this every time you get back in the car. Once you are on the Interstate, you are to get off at every exit you come to, and stop on the shoulder of the nearest main road. Get out of the car, "model walk" twice around the entire car, and then get back in and continue on your trip. These are called "slut laps" and I figure there are about 40 exits along the way, so you should have a fun afternoon. " "Thank you Master, your slut understands her punishment and will complete as instructed." "A little presumptuous of you again, isn't it slut? I wasn't done with your instructions yet." "Sorry Master, this stupid, ignorant fat piggy cow has made another mistake. Piggy begs her Master to add 2 extra punishment sessions when he returns." "So it shall be slut. Now, when you get to the final rest stop, make sure you do your "model walk" as you walk to the washroom. You will take your cosmetics bag, your sandpaper bra and your 2" heels in with you, nothing else, and no bag. You are to remove the tack bra, and wipe your tits down with some of the anaesthetic from your bag. That should give you a little jolt, huh cunt?" "Yes Master, thank you for thinking of your slut Master." "You're welcome piggy. After wiping down your tits, change into the sandpaper bra, change your heels, and then fix your makeup. Return to the car the same way, with everything in your hands. When you go to bed tonight, you may remove the sandpaper bra and pack it away. For the rest of the week you may only wear the one regular bra you packed, and you must not wash it. It should be nice and sweaty and stinky by the time you are ready to come home. When you leave your parents, stop at the first rest stop, take your small tack bra, your 6" heels and your cosmetics case in with you. Change as before, putting on full whore makeup. Your drive back should be the same, being ultra friendly to all other drivers and stopping at every exit for two slut laps of your car. You know what time my flight arrives, and I warn you that you better be here to pick me up on time if you know what's good for you." There was several seconds of silence before Lisa spoke. "Master, may this nasty piggy slut speak?" "You may." "Master, have you completed giving this worthless whore her instructions?" "I have." "Thank you Master. Your slave understands everything that she is to do, and will not disappoint you Master." "Actually, I fully expect that over a week you will be unable to follow at least some of my orders. However, I know that being the good submissive cunt that you are, that you will report back to me any shortcomings, won't you?" "Absolutely Master. Any errors will be reported back and appropriate punishment requested." "Good. Two last things. First, there is a dildo and a butt plug in your bag. Insert them the first time you stop and before you do your slut laps. These are to remain inside you until the final rest stop. They can be removed only after you have returned to the car. Before putting them away, be sure to clean them properly," and as I said this I ran my finger over her lips. I didn't really need to do that, because Lisa understood that the only proper way to clean something that had been in any of her orifices was with her mouth. "Yes Master, I will insert, remove and clean the toys as instructed." "Good, they should be replaced in your ass and cunt before you leave the rest stop on the return trip. Your final instruction is to masturbate every night, almost to the point of orgasm 3 times, but never to come. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes Master, every night frig myself, almost to orgasm 3 times but never come." By now we had arrived at the airport, and Lisa pulled into a spot at the curb to drop me off. She waited at the wheel until I came around to open her door before getting out. This is one of my rules, because it gives me a chance to see her cunt as she slides across the seat to exit. We went to the back of the car, and I waited as she removed my bags and set them on the curb. A few people were starting to notice Lisa, because of her exaggerated walk, her 6" heels, and the makeup that had streamed down her face. I just ignored them as I led her back to the drivers side, gave her a big French kiss, followed by a bear hug that made Lisa grown in discomfort as I drove the tacks into her breasts again. I then opened her door, and waited until she hoisted her skirt as she sat down properly, and then leaned down for one more kiss before sending her on her way. It would be a long week without her, but I was looking forward to my return. As she drove away I picked up my bags, and noticed a leggy blonde in a short, tight leather skirt and almost see-through blouse eying me, with a slight smile on her face. But that will be a story for another day.
Lisa's Fat Saggy Tit Bags - Chapter 2 Lisa Visits Her Parents I waited at the curb and watched in the mirror as Master stood in front of the airport. I noticed Him eyeing a gorgeous, tall blonde in a leather miniskirt and high heels, and became immediately jealous. That lasted for a few seconds until some guy behind me honked his horn to get me to move. "Stupid slut" I said to myself as I pulled into traffic. "He's your Master, and if He wants to look at, talk to or even fuck another woman it's His right to do so. You're just a stupid, fat cow that doesn't have any say in what He does." I began the drive out of the airport, and onto the interstate that would take me back to my parent's home. It was last Christmas, almost 6 months now since I had last been home, shortly before Master came back into my life as my Master. As I made the turn onto the interstate I began to think back on the chance email that had brought the two of us back together, and made such a huge impact in both our lives. Back when I was in college Master and I had met through some mutual friends, although He was just John then. Even though He was eight years older than I was, I found Him very interesting, funny, and very sexy, at least to my 19 year old virgin eyes. He was the strong silent type, and I quickly found myself attracted to Him. We began to date, and several weeks later He took my cherry on a mattress laid on the floor of my roommate's bedroom. Not the most romantic of places, but a wonderful night I will always remember. We began to date regularly, and I spent many nights at His apartment as He taught me so much about sex, although we never explored the realm of S&M in any way. He has since explained that with so many mutual friends and no sign from me of a submissive streak that He didn't want to chance ruining His reputation with me blurting out to His friends that He was some kind of sadistic freak. If I had only known how much I would have enjoyed submitting to Him, we wouldn't have had so many wasted years. Although the sex was great, and we got along in so many other ways, I was still so young, and my college friends convinced me I shouldn't be stuck with some "old guy" (gee, he was only 27),so I eventually broke off our relationship. I guess they were the first to exploit my submissive streak, and that's something that Master tucked away for later use. We stayed friends for a while, but then He moved away for a new job, and I graduated and struck out to begin my own career, and so we lost contact. There was only one of our original group of shared friends that I stayed in touch with. She would send out mass emails with jokes, and one day He noticed my address among the list of people she had sent something to. He contacted me via email, with a simple "Hi", and we began to correspond. That quickly grew to phone calls and casual dinners and some weekend outings. In the years that we had been apart I hadn't dated anyone, and any kind of attention from Him was very welcome. Master however, had been married and was currently in the middle of getting a divorce. He did seem interested in me, and there was lots of hugs and other non sexual contact but He never tried to take me to bed. Part of me figured that it was because of the divorce, and that He was a little gun shy. However, I have had a major self-esteem problem my entire life because of the way I look, and a big part of me figured that He didn't try anything because I was fat and ugly. Thinking back to when we broke up, my mind came to the conclusion that the reason He didn't try to fight my decision was for the same reason, He just wasn't interested in a fat stinking cow like myself. The first exit from the interstate was coming up, and I knew that I had orders to follow, so I prepared to exit the highway. As I looked over to see if it was clear to change lanes, I realized that while I was daydreaming about how Master and I got together a number of cars had passed me, without me trying to make eye contact with them followed by a smile and a wave. Damn, only 10 minutes since I dropped Him off, and I was already going to have to report on failing to follow His orders. I changed lanes, and then looked to the left as the car that had been behind me passed me, and the young couple inside looked my way as they did. They were clearly shocked by my appearance with my smudged makeup all over my face, and were even more shocked when I gave them a big smile and wave. The wife in the passenger seat smacked her husband as he nearly drove off the road while looking at me. I laughed as I took the exit, thinking of the pain I would be in if I had smacked Master on the arm like that. This exit took me to a fairly busy road, one of those built up areas on the edge of town, with lots of fast food places, a couple of strip malls and some new car dealerships. Master had ordered me to stop on the shoulder, but this road was still too urban and didn't have shoulders. I pulled into the parking lot of a strip mall and contemplated what I should do. Master had said to get off the highway at every exit and pull onto the shoulder of the first main road. With no shoulder I had two choices. I could get back on the highway and report that there had been no shoulder, so I couldn't stop and complete my assigned tasks, or I could perform my assigned tasks here in the parking lot, and report that they had hadn't been completed as ordered because they were done in the parking lot, not on the road. A catch-22 situation that I knew Master would relish. Either way I couldn't perform the tasks as ordered, so I was due a punishment, even though it wasn't my fault. Damn, punishment #2. Sighing, I decided that even if I couldn't follow the exact order, I should at least follow the intent, which was to have me humiliate myself, and cause my tits, "Damn, fat, saggy tit-bags you stupid cow!" I had to remember to refer to my fat, saggy tit-bags properly, so as I sat in the car in the parking lot I slid my hand under my skirt and began to repeatedly pinch the flesh on my thighs. With each painful pinch I repeated "Fat, saggy tit-bags," over and over out loud, almost yelling it by the time I had about 20 small bruises on my thighs. I had used this method before when I had problems learning something that Master insisted I remember. I sat there and drilled into my head that I no longer had breasts, or tits, or even udders, I just had fat, saggy tit-bags until Master told me otherwise. I stopped pinching and twisting the flesh on my thighs, and sat there for a minute to catch my breath as I let the pain wash over me, both the pain I had just caused myself, and the ache in my fat, saggy tit-bags from Master's earlier punishment, and their continued torture by my tack bra. I knew that I would remember fat, saggy tit-bags from now on, but I also knew that I was going to have to report 2 more demerits to Master, thinking of them as tits, and torturing my own thighs. I'm not supposed to punish myself, and although it was a memory tool for me, I knew that Master would consider the bruises on my thighs to be self-punishment. That was now a total of 4 punishments I had coming. Master was right when he said that I wouldn't be able to follow all of his orders while away from him for a week, I just didn't expect to have so much to report so soon. It was going to be a long week. I finally calmed down, and went back to considering what I should do. Clearly Master intended to humiliate me, and punish my fat, saggy tit-bags by forcing them to flop around inside the tack bra. Although he specifically ordered me to do it on the side of the road, I reasoned that he would be much harsher with his punishment if I didn't do my slut laps at all, rather than doing them in the wrong place. I undid the seatbelt, opened the door and got out. I'm not sure that I will ever get used to having to sit with my bare ass and exposed cunt resting on the car seat, but I had become adept at swinging my legs out and standing up quickly while smoothing my skirt back down my legs. Today Master had thoughtfully provided me with a thong to reduce my exposure, although as could be expected it was of the "tiny scrap of cloth with dental floss" variety, which barely covered most of my cunt, and none of my ass. As much as things like this humiliated me, I knew my cunt was dripping from all of the abuse that I had already suffered today (did I mention I was a pain pig?), and that humiliation like someone on the street or in the parking lot possibly getting a glimpse of the miniscule thong covering my shaved cunt would only add to the dripping swamp that my cunt had become. I walked to the back of the car, and removed the small bag that my Master had packed for me earlier in the day, and then got back in the drivers seat, being careful to ensure my skirt went back around my waist as I sat down. Examining the contents of the bag there was my makeup bag, the sandpaper bra and my low heels. Was it only 6 months ago when I would have considered 2" heels to be outrageously high, and didn't own anything near that? I have come a long way in such a short period of time. At the bottom of the bag I found what I was looking for, my butt plug and dildo. Neither was too extreme, just a 3" plug and a 6" dildo, but both would ensure that my cunt and ass were tender by the end of the 4 hour drive. Looking around in the bag I couldn't see any lube. Maybe that was a good thing; because I wasn't sure I was up for one of Master's lube choices, like Icy-Hot or cinnamon oil. I took the butt plug first, and pushing aside my thong I plunged it into my sopping wet cunt. I twisted it around and around, trying to sop up as much cunt cream as possible. Master has a very strict rule about this. Pushing the butt plug into my cunt once is considered lubing. Pulling it out and pushing it in a second time without specific permission is fucking, and fucking without permission is a punishable offence. I pulled the plug out of my cunt and scooting down on the seat I moved aside the string from my thong and eased the plug into my ass. It was tapered, so that the ring of my asshole could snap shut around the base, ensuring that it wouldn't move in or out. Like I said, it wasn't a big plug, but it left me feeling somewhat full anyway. Taking the dildo next, I slowly pushed it up into my cunt, and then slid the thong back into place, hoping that would help to hold it inside me. I loved being plugged fore and aft, but I hated doing it without a belt or crotch strap of some kind to ensure that the plastic invaders stayed in place. One time while on a country walk I had dropped the dildo that Master had stuffed in my cunt, and he forced me to carry it back to the car in my mouth. "Okay, it's time," I said to myself as I got out of the car again, and began the first of two slut laps around the car, using my model walk. This had to be one of Master's favorite public humiliations for me, the model walk. You've all seen how the models strut down the catwalk, swinging their hips as they place one foot directly in front of the other. When they get to the end of the runway, they sort of pivot on the toe of their shoe, twisting their upper body around the point. Have you ever tried to walk like that for a long time? Try it sometime and you'll find it's not easy. Once when we were shopping at a mall Master made me walk like that the entire 3 hours we were there. It's extremely difficult to do, and it sure gets you lots of attention. To do it right, you have to do it in high heels, and Master always makes sure mine are extreme when ordering me to model walk, which ensures that I get even more attention. The heels change the shape of your legs, and you hold yourself very erect and stick your fat, saggy tit-bags (good, I remembered that time) out for the entire world to see. Of course, most models are a lot taller than my 5'2" and a lot skinnier than my 150 pounds (to think I was 210 when Master and I got back together). Most models also have tiny little tits too, (I don't have to call all tits fat, saggy tit-bags do I? Of course not, just my own) so watch them walk, then picture short, dumpy little me, with 6" heels and 38DD fat, saggy tit-bags doing it. According to Master it's sexy as hell, but he finds almost anything that's humiliating for me sexy. Of course, loving humiliation as much as I love pain my cunt was absolutely dripping on the day of the mall trip, and it was pretty wet now too. I strutted to the left front corner of the car, and then pivoted 90 degrees to the right to walk across the front of the car. As I did so, my fat, saggy tit-bags continued to shake and bounce after my body had stopped turning, causing them to scrape across the tacks embedded in the bra, making me groan with pain. My fat, saggy tit-bags were going to be hamburger by the time I finished my trip today. I completed the first, and then the second lap around my car, and as I hoisted my skirt to slide my wet cunt across the seat I thought that Master had come up with the perfect phrase to describe this task. Slut laps were the right name, since I felt like the world's biggest slut while parading around the car. I glanced around and noticed a few people looking my way, and wondered what they thought of my performance. I put my seatbelt back on, and made sure I pulled it tight, forcing a few of the tacks deeper into my fat, saggy tit-bags. Before starting the car I checked my face in the mirror again, only having gotten a quick look earlier when Master told me to check. I looked awful. My tears from my earlier punishment session back at the house had ruined my makeup. I had a great Alice Cooper look, with raccoon eyes and longs streaks of mascara running down my face. I felt immediately humiliated, and moments later felt my cunt twitch around the dildo embedded inside it, and fresh cunt cream seep out to stain more of my thong. God I was a slut. I took a deep breath, and realized that both me and the car probably stunk like a whorehouse. How was I going to hide that from my parents? Maybe they would be out when I got home, so that I could have a quick shower? If not, they would think that I had been fucking up a storm on the drive down. I used my cunt muscles to quickly push and pull a little on the dildo, and realized that they wouldn't be far off base. I started the car, and drove back onto the highway, making sure that I smiled and waved at everyone that looked my way. As I drove I continued to think back on how Master and I resumed our relationship. We had started corresponding by email, and then began talking on the phone. We quickly realized that we lived fairly close together, and arranged to meet for dinner. I was 31 by now, and on a dead-end career path that was taking it's toll on me both mentally and physically. As I said, I'm about 5'2" tall, but I had ballooned to 210 pounds. Food was my best and sometimes only friend. I hadn't dated anyone since John and I broke up, and my fingers and a vibrator were my only sexual partners. So it was with a great deal of trepidation that I arrived at the restaurant where we were to meet. Money was very tight, and my clothing budget was very limited but I wore one of the nicer outfits I owned, a black mid-calf length skirt and sweater combination that displayed a little of my massive cleavage. I hated the way I looked, and it was about as daring as I got. I had put on some makeup, and done my hair up, so I think I looked nice, but I was still fat and frumpy. I was really looking forward to seeing John again. He had spoken about his pending divorce, so I knew that he was unattached, and I must admit I was secretly hoping that there would be some chance of us picking back up where we left off. I entered the restaurant and the hostess informed me that "the gentleman hasn't arrived yet," and invited me to have a seat in the bar. I accepted, and slid onto a stool, ordering a martini that I hoped would give me some strength and stop my hands from shaking. I was so nervous, probably because I was so intent on this meeting going right. I sat there nursing my drink for almost 45 minutes, my confidence slowly evaporating as each minute passed from our scheduled meeting time. I was about to give up and head home, thinking that John wasn't going to show up. Maybe this was payback for my dumping him all those years ago? Whatever the reason he was a no show and I was going to have to go home to my vibrator and dream about what might have been. Suddenly I felt a presence beside me, and I looked up, and immediately felt myself go weak. He was here! He looked the same but different. Less hair than I remember, and what was left was starting to turn grey. His face was still handsome though, and his body was in far better shape than I remember. John had been a little overweight himself, but in the passing years he had obviously begun to work out, and he was now hard and lean under the casual shirt and slacks he was wearing. It had been so long since I felt so overwhelmed by someone's presence, and I could actually feel my pussy get a little moist(yep, back then it was only a pussy, not a rancid cunt like I have come to think of it). "How are you Lisa, I hope you weren't waiting long?" The voice, so deep and rich, so sexy. I missed him so much. "John, I'm fine, I wasn't waiting too long at all." Did I just say that? The bastard was 45 minutes late, and I didn't think it was a problem. He hadn't even said sorry for making me wait. "Let's go grab our table; they have kept it for us." With that John turned and walked back out to the hostess as I was left to scramble after him, grabbing my coat and leaving some cash on the bar for the drink. I rushed up to where John and the hostess were standing waiting for me, and we walked through and were seated at a quite corner table. The waiter came over and asked us for our drink orders, and John ordered martinis for both of us. I don't drink much any more, and I had already finished one potent drink while waiting at the bar, so I started to protest, "Actually, I'll just have water thanks." "Nonsense, you'll join me in a drink so that we can have a toast to renewing old relationships," and with that comment he dismissed the waiter. Had he actually said that, 'renewing old relationships?' Maybe there was some chance after all. Little did I realize that the decision on the course of our future was already made. In divorcing his wife John had come to the conclusion that he was going to explore his dominant side, and not make any compromises for the sake of society. In order to do that, he needed a submissive, and our emails and phone calls had convinced him that I might fill that role. Showing up late had been intentional, a test to see if I would object. So had not apologizing for being late, walking away from me at the bar while I struggled with my things, and ordering drinks for us. I didn't object to any of these things, telling John all he needed to know, that I was probably submissive, or at least without sufficient self esteem that he could probably bend me to his will. Truth be told it was probably a little of both. That night set the tone for the format of our new relationship. We continued to talk and go out to dinner and movies, but it was always at the time and place John chose. I would rearrange my work schedule any time he called and wanted to do something. I didn't need to worry about my social schedule because I didn't really have one. Whenever we went out John would order for me, decide what movie we were going to see, basically make all the decisions for the two of us. And I let him. I was thrilled with whatever attention he gave me. He was always a gentleman, always paid for everything, opened doors for me, held out my chair, it was wonderful. I felt like a princess. I guess somewhere in the back of my mind a part of me wanted to protest. After all, I was a mature, liberated woman, not a toy, or a 50's housewife waiting for her man in heels and pearls with a hot dinner on the table, but whenever he showed up at my door to pick me up, giving me a hug, and a kiss on the cheek I just melted and went wherever he told me. The only weird part was the sex, or lack thereof. John didn't make a single move on me. He would touch me all the time, hugs, arm around my shoulder in the theater, handholding, you name it. There were always kisses, forehead, cheek, hands, just never any actual lip to lip contact, or any move of a sexual nature. Excited Lisa said "he's just being a gentleman." Sympathetic Lisa said "he's going through a rough divorce and needs time." Frustrated Lisa said "fuck me already." Fat Lisa said "it's because you're a pig and a cow, he doesn't want you." A lot of the time Fat Lisa won. Unknown to me John could read me like an open book, and saw all these conflicting emotions, and continually shifted tactics to keep me off guard. It was the day that his divorce becoming final that things started to change. John suggested a celebratory dinner, and came to my apartment to pick me up. He had said we would go someplace special, and to dress up a little. I was wearing a nice black pantsuit, I had my hair done up, and just slightly more makeup than I would normally wear. I buzzed John up when he rang, and answered the door to find him as handsome as always, in an expensive well fitting suit. He looked me up and down, and sort of sniffed with disapproval. I was crushed. I felt everything start to go black. "What's wrong, aren't I dressed properly?" "No, no you're fine." Something about the way he said 'fine' told me that everything wasn't fine. "You didn't say where we were going. If this isn't appropriate I can change." "It's just that I always think pants on women are okay if you're working in the garden or something, but for going out to dinner you would look more feminine in a skirt or dress." That's all he wanted, a skirt or dress? I could do that. "No problem, give me 5 minutes and I'll change." "You don't need to do that for me." "Of course I do, I'll be right back." I rushed off into my bedroom, stripping of the pants and top as soon as the door was closed. I rifled through my closet until I found a dress that looked okay on me and threw it on. I quickly checked my hair and makeup, and went rushing out find John sitting on the couch. He looked up as I entered the living room. "Is this better?" Please, please say it is. He smiled, "Much better, now you look presentable." Presentable? That was pretty weak. Not hot, not sexy, not beautiful, just presentable. Fat Lisa was definitely winning tonight. Even so, we went out and had a lovely time. After dinner we went dancing, and it felt wonderful as John led me around the dance floor. As he held me in his arms I felt it couldn't get any better. At the end of the evening we went back to my place, and I invited John up for coffee. "Sorry, but I have an early meeting tomorrow, so I'm going to have to pass. Would you like to go out again tomorrow?" YES, YES, YES, a thousand times YES. "I would like that very much. I always like spending time with you." And so I went up to my apartment and my trusty vibrator as I thought of the wonderful evening we just had. Maybe soon I could replace my battery powered friend with a real man. Little did I know that in the future I was going to have both, sometimes together. The yells and a horn from a car going the other way brought out of my daydream. I had continued to pull off at every exit, and the local farmboys were letting me know that they appreciated the slut laps I had just completed here at exit 5. It was going to be a long afternoon. It was taking me about 2 minutes at each exit by the time I got off the interstate, pulled over, completed my slut laps and then got back on the highway. At this rate, with more than 30 exits still to go, I was going to be late getting to my parents house. I decided I better call home and let them know. It was my step-father Mike that answered. I asked to speak to mom, but he said she was "tied up right now", and could he take a message. I felt more cunt cream leak from me as I thought of my mom bound like Master often tied me. "Nah, my mom's as straight laced as they come, that would never happen." "I got delayed leaving today Mike, so I'm probably not going to get there until just after 6:30. I just wanted to let you know, because I know that mom will worry if I'm late, and in case she had dinner planned." "No problem Lisa, I'll let her know. You're right, she'll worry about you like crazy. We're just going to BBQ some steaks tonight, so I'll wait for you to arrive before lighting the grill. You're grandma is coming over too, so she can keep Anne busy." "Great Mike, I'll see you in a few hours." I like Mike, he has been really good for my mom. She met him a few years after dad died. Mom had become very withdrawn, and although she had been an extremely beautiful woman (I take after my dad in the looks department), she had let herself go. The she met Mike at the office where she worked, and the two of them hit it off. Mom quickly lost weight, started dressing sexier like she had when dad was alive, and came back out of her shell. The last time I saw them was Christmas time, and mom looked great. Mike has always made me feel really comfortable too, even though he had dropped some subtle hints about my weight, mostly by pointing out how good mom looked. Still, he's pretty good as step-father's go, except for one small thing. He's about the same age as Master which is a little weird for me, seeing mom with someone 12 years younger than herself. Okay, here I go, back on the highway, smiling and waving like a silly bimbo at every car I pass. Six months ago I would never have had the confidence to do something like this. Strange isn't it, gaining confidence from my submission? It hadn't started like that though I remembered, as my mind drifted back once again to the events that had led to the current state of our relationship, where I have become a completely nasty, filthy submissive cunt pig. John had said he would call me the next day to arrange a time to meet for dinner. I waited all day at work for a call from him that never came. I checked my machine as soon as I got home and nothing. Should I call him? No, he said he would call me, so I should just wait. John had realized early on that keeping me waiting had been a good method of keeping me destabilized and susceptible to his whims. I sat around my apartment and waited, hoping he would call, and finally the phone rang about 7pm. John had left the office and was on his way to pick me up He would be there in 20 minutes. "Oh, did I forget to call you. Oh well, just be ready for when I get there, reservations are for 8 and it's a 45 minute drive to the restaurant so I don't want you to keep me waiting." Great, he had the time to call and make reservations, but not to let me know when he was picking me up. 20 minutes wasn't much time, but I quickly jumped in the shower, got out and fixed my hair and makeup and found a nice (for me) dress to wear, a black sequined one that I had bought for a Christmas party once. I was still a little damp from the shower and out of breath from running around when I buzzed John up. I met him at the door with a cheery smile, and stood back as he once again appraised me from head to toe as he had last night. I hoped that tonight I would meet with his approval. Feminist Lisa raised her head for a second to protest the idea of getting John to approve my outfit, but Excited, Frustrated, and even Fat Lisa all turned on her and beat her senseless. "You look lovely tonight Lisa. You really should wear dresses and skirts more often, they make you look so pretty." Pretty. Lovely. I was in heaven. He liked the way I looked.... "Of course you really should wear high heels when you dress like this, not those ugly flats." ...except for my ugly shoes. Heels? He must be kidding. "Sorry, I'll be right back. I wasn't going to wear these shoes tonight, I just slipped them on to answer the door." I ran into my bedroom and started digging through the closet looking for a pair of shoes that I hadn't worn in years. Pumps, with an inch and a half heel. I hoped they would be high enough. I had only worn them once or twice and I wasn't used to walking in them, but I stuffed them on my feet and rushed back out to the living room. "That's better, although all of the real women I know wear proper heels, not little ones like that." Crushed. He knows other women, real women. They wear high heels, and probably always wear short skirts and he's probably fucking them, and that's why he's not interested in Fat Lisa. The tears are starting to well up, and any second I'm going to become a blubbering idiot. But once again I'm like a musical instrument, and John's the maestro. He's all smiles and charming, taking my hand and leading me out of my apartment and down to his car. His touch is electric, and all of a sudden everything is right with the world. We go to a nice restaurant and have a wonderful dinner. John must have picked this place for the scenery, because there is an endless parade of skinny, young, beautiful women going by. They are exquisitely made up, coiffed, wearing heels and clothes that range from designer elegance to come-fuck-me slutty. John helpfully points out each of the different looks and what he finds attractive about them. Fat Lisa is scared, thinking she can never look like that. Suddenly a new Lisa emerges, Desperate Lisa who thinks that she must do anything to keep this man in her life. If it's mini skirts that will keep him interested, she'll buy them tomorrow. If it's 4" heels that turn him on, she'll start practicing to walk in them as soon as she can get her feet into a pair. Anything he wants, just as long as she can be with him. Desperate Lisa wins. She glances over at John, and he can tell by the look in her eyes that she is going to be his. The submissive slut that he has craved all these years is sitting across the table from him, waiting for him to mold her however he wants. It was a long afternoon, but I finally pulled into the last rest stop before my parent's town around 5:30. I was earlier than I had originally expected. Traffic was light and I was able to make up some time between exits. Now I just had a few more tasks to complete before heading home. I tried to remember everything that I had to do here at the rest stop. I was to take my cosmetics bag, my 2" heels, and my sandpaper bra with me into the washroom. I had to do this without being able to hide them in a bag, and I had to do this in full model walk, and I couldn't wash the awful makeup off my face until I got into the bathroom. Piece of cake for a humiliation loving piggy like me. I pulled the bra out of the bag, and folded it as small and discretely as possible. Not easy when you have 38D fat, saggy tit-bags, and your Master insisted on getting a bra that was too big. You see how small you can make a full cup, 40DD bra that's been made stiff with sandpaper. I folded it up, and then tried to hide as much of it between my body and the cosmetics bag as possible. Grabbing my shoes I began the walk to the washroom. I think that just about everyone in the parking lot noticed me as I strutted my way across in my skyscraper heels and made my way inside the building. I quickly found the washroom, and then ducked into the first empty stall I could find. I set everything down on the back of the toilet, and carefully removed my top. Leaning down I reached behind me to unfasten the tack bra, and slowly pulled it off my fat, saggy tit-bags. I groaned a little as a few of the tacks that had sunk deeper popped out of the skin. I reached behind me and hung the bra on the back of the door. I carefully examined my fat, saggy tit-bags for any damage. There was some bruising from the original beating Master had given me back at the house, and lots of places where the tacks had broken the skin. Everywhere else was red and raw from the effect of slinging my fat, saggy tit-bags around in my bra all afternoon. The good news was that there didn't appear to be any permanent damage. Now for the hard part. Reaching into my cosmetic bag I removed a package of antiseptic wipes. With the broken skin from the tacks this was going to sting like hell, but Master wouldn't want any infections, so I began slowly caressing each fat, saggy tit-bag with a wipe, carefully cleaning the entire surface. I groaned with the pain as the antiseptic entered the small punctures, but I completed the task after a couple of minutes. Flushing the wipes away, I suddenly remembered that I hadn't pissed in almost 7 hours now, and the sound of the emptying toilet caused immediate pressure on my bladder. Damn, I wasn't allowed to remove the dildo until after I got back to the car, and I certainly couldn't piss with it in. Maybe I could come back in after I removed and cleaned the plugs. Back to the spirit of the order again. Master had said to remove the plugs only after I got back to the car. He hadn't said anything about coming back in to use the bathroom, so although it wouldn't be a technical violation of the order, I had to assume that he wanted me to wait until I got to my parents before taking a piss, increasing the potential for humiliation if I couldn't hold it in, as had happened before. 'Looks like I'm going to hold it' Next step is to put the sandpaper bra on. It's big too, and my fat, saggy tit-bags flop around inside it as I stand up after putting it on. Fortunately I got to wipe them off after the tack bra, and I won't have too much more walking to do today, so I should be able to stand this part of the punishment. Sitting down on the toilet, I slowly ease my feet out of the punishing 6" heels that I have been wearing all afternoon. I groan as I flex my feet, trying to get my arch to straighten back out after being forced into it's exaggerated position for so long. After a few minutes I manage to slip my 2" heels on, and stand up. Gathering up my few belongings I make my way out to the sink area. After carefully cleaning off all traces of my original smeared makeup I carefully reapply a lesser amount. It was still obvious that I was wearing lots, but I certainly no longer looked like I could be bought for twenty bucks. Finally I gathered up all my stuff and walked back to the car. Model walk doesn't have the same impact in lower heels, and with my makeup fixed I didn't get nearly as many looks as when I had walked in. One more task to complete. Sitting in the seat I slid forward and carefully fished around until I caught the base of the butt plug. I gave it a hard tug, and freed it from my asshole. I had parked at the end of the lot, so no one could see me as I brought the plug up to my lips and dutifully gave it a thorough cleaning with my lips and tongue. One of Master's very strict rules. Any foreign object placed in my cunt or ass must be scrubbed clean in my mouth. Once the butt plug was all clean and shiny with my salvia, I dropped it in my bag beside the tack bra and heels. I then pushed my thong out of the way and extracted the dildo from my sopping wet cunt, cleaning it the same way. I had brought some hand towels with me from the restroom and used those to mop up the swampy mess from my cunt. I got out of the car and dropped the stinking towels in the garbage, and carefully packed my small bag away in my larger suitcase. I wouldn't want mom finding any of this, it would be too embarrassing to explain. It hadn't taken as long at the rest stop as I expected, so it was only a few minutes after 6 when I opened the gates with the pass code and rolled up the driveway of my parent's house. The house had originally belonged to my grandparents, my mom's parents, and they had farmed the land around it. By the time grandpa died he had sold off all except the house and the surrounding 10 acres. When dad and mom got married they moved into the house, and grandma moved into one of the new houses on the subdivision built on the farmland. That meant the farmhouse stayed in the family, and grandma could come and visit anytime she wanted being so close by. It had been great growing up, because grandma was always around. Being early wouldn't be bad, because everyone would be happy to see me. I had changed dramatically over the last 6 months with Master's help, and I was very anxious for mom and Mike to see the new thinner, happier, sexier me. Getting out of the car I walked around the back of the house, thinking they might be on the patio, and got the biggest shock of my life. There was a large pole, like a telephone pole at one corner of the patio. It had held one end of the washing line up ever since I was a kid. Today it wasn't the washing that was strung up though. From the top of the pole a rope ran down, ending in cuffs strapped around the wrists of two women. The rope had been pulled tight, so both women were bent at the waist and forced up on their toes. The two women were facing each other, and were involved in a very erotic kiss. Both were naked other than their wrist cuffs, and I could see evidence (because I was so familiar with it myself), of a recent whipping on the bodies of both women. I noticed all of this in a split second, before my mind also registered the third person. It was Mike! He was standing at the back of one of the women, obviously fucking her up the ass. There was a willow switch in one hand, and that was what was creating the marks on their bodies. Mike must have noticed the movement as I came around the corner of the house because he looked up and muttered, "Oh shit," as he quickly stepped backwards from the woman he was fucking, his cock bouncing as it pulled out. Both women continued the kiss for a second before breaking it off and starting to look around. The one getting ass fucked was the first to turn my way. "Grandma?" The other quickly looked over "Mom?" To Be Continued
Review This Story || Email Author: John Williams