You Never Know free porn video

You Never Know

by lipsticked

copyright 2005 all rights reserved

I moved to Los Angeles from New York about eight years ago, right after mydivorce. The marriage didn't last long and ended bitterly. I now live a blockfrom the beach in Santa Monica in a fairly exclusive high-rise apartment building.I quit my job as a graphic artist with a top advertising firm in NY, when Imoved and started my own business here. I have about seven big clients whokeep me busy and successful. I am lucky in that I do almost all my work frommy home. I just need my computer, scanner and internet connection. My nameis Steven and I'm 35 years old, 6' tall, 165 lbs, light blond hair, brown eyes,and considered good-looking. The apartment building is about 50% single people,most are attractive and successful. You almost have to be successful to affordto live in this building. I don't get out much both because of my work anda basic shyness. I don't meet people easily. That's probably why I became agraphic artist. I don't even know many of my neighbors. And that is where myproblem began.

My apartment is number 10. Directly across the hall is number 11. My lastname is Rogers . After I had been living here for a year a new tenant movedinto #11. The new name on their mailbox was Roget. I was a subscriber to certainmagazines specializing in female dominance, forced feminization and bondage.I also joined several pay sites on the internet about the same topics. Oneof my magazines, Forced WomanHood, didn't arrive. I wasn't too concerned untilI noticed I was receiving mail for apt.11, Roget. I realized that the similarityin our names and apartment numbers was resulting in mail being incorrectlydelivered. I picked up the mail in my box for Roget with the intention of deliveringit personally.

Before I had the chance, my doorbell rang. I opened the door to a surprisingsight. Most of the women in the building are slender, attractive and physicallyfit. The woman at my door was very overweight, short, sloppy, and generallyunattractive. She was probably about 5'1" with mousy short, curly brownhair. Wearing sweat pants and shirt, it was hard to judge her real weight,but she was very wide. Her arms looked strong and her hand was moist as I shookit. She introduced herself as Susan Roget, my neighbor. I recovered from thesurprise and invited her in. I noticed the brown paper package in her handimmediately, and thought of my lost magazine. Her head swiveled as she checkedout my apartment. She made small talk, commenting on my better ocean view andhow neat everything was. I told her I was a bachelor and liked things orderly.I got the impression she was far from neat. She sat down on my sofa and kickedoff her sandals. I sat across from her and could see the filth on the bottomof her feet. Overall, she was not an appealing person. She was looking me inthe eye when she said that she had gotten some of my mail by mistake. I triednot to react as we exchanged our bundles. I attempted to check out the magazinewrapper to see if it had been opened, but I couldn't tell. Anyway, it couldn'tmatter, I thought. I didn't see much of the people in the building anyway.Susan Roget asked if I would help her with some light switches in her apartment,but I referred her to the building manager. I really didn't want to have anythingto do with her.

After she left, I examined the magazine envelope more closely. Sure enough,it was Forced Feminization, and the flap was closed, but loosely. I didn'tknow if she had seen it or not. In any event, she made no mention of it soI was probably safe.

Over the next few weeks I noticed that Ms. Roget had many daytime visitors.The apartment bells are loud and voices carry in the hallway. I didn't thinkmuch about it other than a slight surprise that she was so popular. I didn'tknow what she did for a living, but she seemed to be home during the day. Iwould sometimes check out who was visiting her across the hall by looking throughthe security viewer in my door. Mostly men, with a few women, all well groomed,but seemingly nervous, and always alone. I only glimpsed her when the dooropened and the guests went in. She favored either sweat suit or large printdress, the type that used to be called a muu muu. It fit her like a tent. Sometimesyou read stories about a man meeting a dominant neighbor. She is always attractiveand sexy. There were some women in the building I fantasized about, but neverwould my fantasies involve a fat slob like Susan Roget.

I had sent away for an issue of DDI, a directory of dominant women and ithadn't arrived. It was way overdue, and I suspected the mail mix-up again.I had received some more of her mail and intended to use that as an excuseto see if she had mine. Rather than just knock on her door, I telephoned. Sheanswered immediately. Her voice was sexy, if you didn't know what she lookedlike. She seemed puzzled for a minute, then said that yes she did have somemail for me. She had tried to return it, but I was out when she rang my bell,then she put it aside and had forgotten about it. I'm rarely out, but didn'twant to call her a liar. It could have happened. She asked me to wait a fewminutes before coming over so she could clean up. I almost laughed, becauseI thought she needed to do more than cleanup, she needed a major overhaul.

This was the second meeting with my neighbor, and the first in her apartment.I rang the bell and she answered dressed in one of her print dresses. I didnotice she was wearing boots under the dress, which surprised me at the time.She even had put on lipstick! Thick and red, and slightly smeared, as if appliedhurriedly. Her apartment was everything I expected. It was a mess. I didn'tlook as if it had been cleaned in weeks. There were old pizza boxes on thetable, open soda cans, filled ash-trays, and dishes in the sink. There wasa pile of old newspapers in the living room, and some old underwear and sandalsby the sofa. Susan did not ask me to sit down, so I waited uncomfortably standingin her living room. She went to get my mail and when she returned with a surprise.She had one hand behind her back and held my mail with the other. She handedme the package, but I could see that the DDI magazine was not present. It wouldhave been a large brown envelope. I was disappointed, and didn't notice Susan'sother had come from behind her back. She held a jockey's horsewhip and wasslowly tapping it against her thigh. I must have starred at it, hypnotized,like a mouse dropped into an anaconda's cage. She didn't say anything. Juststood there tapping the whip.

"Is something missing?" she asked innocently.

"No, nothing. Thank you. I'll be going. I'm sorry to trouble you." Isaid, turning to leave.

I didn't get far. A meaty, strong hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me around.

"Not quite so fast, Steven. We have some things to discuss first."

"I don't know what you mean", I stammered. I really wanted to getout of there.

"I recognized you the minute I saw you. In a building this size I wouldhave bet there would be at least one worth owning per floor."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I have to go." I saidturning again.

This time when she pulled be around, she slapped my face hard with her openpalm. I went reeling. She was strong. She pushed me down to the floor and stoodover me. "Forced Womanhood, DDI, not your standard reading matter. You'rea submissive slut just waiting to be told what to do. Well, just think of meas a gardener and you're low hanging fruit. I'm collecting you. You may notrealize it yet, but you belong to me."

The quiet way she said it was frightening, yet thrilling. I was submissive,but found her physically disgusting. This was not what my fantasies were like.

She bent over, so her face was inches from mine. "Now, bitch, get thoseclothes off." She said in a louder voice. "I'm not going to tellyou twice." She was powerful, threatening and physically intimidating.I could not look her in the eye and did not doubt that she was serious. Suddenlyshe did not seem so comical to me. I removed my clothes and tried to fold them,but she just kicked them away, yelling at me to be faster. Finally, I was naked,still on the floor. She grabbed me by my hair and pulled me to me knees. Sheproduced handcuffs from somewhere and walked behind me to lock my wrists together.Now that I was naked and cuffed, she stepped back and slowly circled me. Isuddenly flashed on the image of a shark in the ocean circling its prey. Sheused the jockey whip to spread my thighs apart, and lift up my shriveled penis.

"Not very large, is it. bitch. I bet your tongue is longer." Shesaid, looking at me thoughtfully.

I knew my cock was small. It was part of the reason for my divorce. Fullyextended it barely reached six inches, but it was very small in diameter. Therewasn't even a cockring that fit me. All were too large. I wished I knew whatshe was thinking.

My head snapped left and right as she slapped me. I hadn't even seen it coming.Then she pulled my head up. My mouth was hanging open and she spit directlyin it. "My spit is going to go through your body. As it does, I am goingto possess you. You are finished. Get used to it. I am going to be the mostimportant person in your life."

I was dazed from her hits, and her words. She was crazy. She left the roomfor a moment, but returned almost immediately.

"Good. You didn't move. It would have been hard on you it you had. Youdon't do anything with my permission - talk, move, piss, shit and sometimesbreathe."

I hadn't moved because I couldn't. I was dazed, cuffed and naked. She hada lipstick in her hand and proceeded to smear it over my lips. She made nopretense of just covering my lips. That was too much trouble. She just coveredeverything near them. Then she stepped back to admire her work.

"Now you will be known as Stephanie. Stephanie the Slut. That soundsgood. I don't want to see you without lipstick on, either here or in your ownapartment. It's just a reminder whenever you look in the mirror about who ownsyou. And call me Mistress Susan from now on. Now, crawl over to me."

She had seated herself in the center of the sofa. I crawled to her, over myclothes and old newspapers until I was directly in front, on my knees. Shepulled up the bottom of her huge dress to reveal knee high boots and enormousthighs. She was not wearing any underwear. "Okay, Stephanie, let's seewhat I own now. Get to work on my cunt and do a good job or I'll bitchslapyou until to pass out!"

I found the idea of sucking her cunt distasteful. Her fat hung in layers.I wasn't even sure I could find her cunt in all that flab. But a small partof me was thrilled and revolted at the same time. I really had no choice. Thiswoman had stripped me, beat me, humiliated me and now intended to use me asher sex toy.

I had no time to think because Mistress Susan grabbed the back of my headand pulled me into her thighs. She pushed me in deep and she spread her legsand moved forward slightly on the couch. This position allowed me to find hercunt with my tongue. Her thighs were wet with sweat and her cunt was moist.Obviously capturing and training a new slave excited her. My knees rubbed onthe carpet as my weight shifted to plunge deeper into her. I licked and suckedas best I could. There was a lot of moisture and a lot of flesh. Her clit wascovered. I sucked, licked, tongued and swallowed. It seemed to take forever.Suddenly her thighs tightened around my head. It thought my head would crack.It was incredibly painful and wouldn't stop. Then, instant relief. I couldbreathe again. The pain in my head was gone. Now I could notice the pain inmy knees. Mistress Susan pulled me away. You could almost hear the pop of thevacuum seal breaking. My chest heaved, trying to move volumes of air. I satback to take some weight off my knees.

Mistress Susan looked down at me and took my chin in her hand. She moved herface close to mine and looked me in the eye. I lowered mine. "That wasn'tbad for the first time, but you had better get good fast. I expect you to dothat at least three or more times a day - when I get up, before I go to sleepand anytime during the day I feel like it. Forget about your cock. Its no goodto me or probably any woman. You won't need it. I might use it as a leash.I'll have a locking chastity device by tomorrow for you. I was expecting ittoday. Ha! Ha! - maybe it's in your mailbox by mistake. Wouldn't that be alaugh."

This was going too fast for me. Chastity device, face-fucked three times aday by this blob of flesh, - I didn't want this. For a minute I thought shecould read my mind.

"Doesn't sound like what you expected when you walked in here. Well,your expectations don't count. Mine do!"

She prodded me to my feet and had me walk into her bedroom. It was a mess.Worse than the kitchen and living room. I was placed in a chair in front ofa dressing mirror. Mistress Susan re-did my lipstick, taking more care thistime. She put a long blond wig on me as well as a red bra, garter belt andpanties. She got out a digital camera and took some pictures. Then shoved ablack dildo in my mouth and took some more. Next, she positioned me on thebed, spread my legs, tied my ankles to rings on the bedframe and put a gagin my mouth that had a dildo on each end. Mistress Susan shoved some KY jellyin my asshole and, in spite of my squirming around, shoved a pink dildo halfinto my asshole. A snap of the jockey whip on my cock made me stop moving.As a final touch, she put lipstick and then clothespins on my nipples. Shedid all this without saying a word. The only sound, aside from my moans, wasthe sound of the camera cranking off photos. She left me there on the bed andwent into the other room. When she returned, she told me she had uploaded theimages to her website in an encrypted format. She also commented that the close-upslooked great. She was sure the landlord would like to see the photos and wellas my employers. She proceeded to mention my clients by name. I was stunned.She must have been in my apartment alone with access to my computer and files.

I couldn't keep up with the changing situation. I had gone from being concernedthat my neighbor might know I had an interest in crossdressing, to being bound,fucked and blackmailed all at lightspeed. I knew nothing about this woman andshe now occupied the center of my life. She obviously had been investigatingme.

They say that the first part of brainwashing is to isolate the victim fromhis normal environment. Then subject him to humiliating acts and repeat overand over what you want him to believe. Well, I was isolated, humiliated, andbeing told that I was now Stephanie, slaveslut, property of Mistress SusanRoget, and I was starting to accept it.

While I was off in my fog, Mistress Susan was disrobing. She removed everythingexcept her boots. She was huge. Her arms were shaky with fat. Her stomach hadrolls. Her tits were like watermelons, hanging down under their own weight.Her nipples stuck out like fingers, big and thick.

"You look so pretty with that cock sticking out of your mouth that itwould be a shame to waste it." She said as she mounted me. First she saton my chest and breathing became incredibly difficult. I could only take veryshallow breathes through my nose, and those painfully. She adjusted herself,and with a massive heave, move up to impale her cunt on the dildo gag juttingfrom my mouth. My head was squashed into the pillow. The little I could seejust before my eyes were covered by the folds of her stomach was massive titsswaying over me. My head was pounded into the bed. I could only lay there andhope to survive. I tried to take some air each time she moved upward and bracefor the punishing weight to follow. I have no idea how long the torture lasted.I was soaking wet when Mistress Susan finally got off me. I was exhausted,beaten and broken. It was a horrible experience that I would do anything toavoid, but part of me was thrilled to have been her dildo - craved the humiliationof being used by this dominatrix. She was physically overwhelming and againstmy will, I was being psychologically dominated as well.

She left me on the bed to recover as she put on her robe. The dildo gag wasremoved and my legs released. She shoved the pink dildo into my asshole deeperbefore pulling it out. "You'll be begging me for that one day. I am goingto really enjoy making you into my bitch, Stephanie." She said. "Now,lick your pussycock clean."

She shoved the pink dildo that had been up my ass into my mouth. In and outlike a ball washer at a golf course. When she was finally satisfied that itwas clean, it got dumped into a drawer. I didn't want to think where it hadbeen before she shoved it in me.

I had been fucked, photographed and used by her for two orgasms. I was soakedin sweat and hoped that somehow I would now be released. My new owner had otherplans. She pulled me from the bed and I stood on unsteady legs. A push fromher finger and I was sitting on the side of the bed. She stood next to me,spread my legs and grabbed my cock in her fist. I didn't even try to resist.I was physically beaten and she knew it.

"Let's see what you've got in your clit" she said milking me. Ihad no control as my cock got hard under her stroking.

"Come on bitch, give it to me. You won't get many chances like this" shesaid smirking. I avoided her eyes, and just looked at her tits. I was excitedin spite of myself. Under her expert handling, I came in big spurts. She collectedit in her hand. Before I had a chance to recover, she held my nose in one hand,pulling my head up. My mouth opened to get air, and she wiped my cum into mymouth. Her hand then dropped to my jaw and held my mouth closed until I swallowed.I gagged slightly. I had never swallowed cum before.

"Get used to it. I have some men who are going to love you - literally." Shegiggled.

She wiped her hands on the bed sheet and stood before me. We were almost thesame height - me sitting, her standing. Again I kept my eyes lowered. She grabbedmy hair and pulled my head up, forcing me to look in her eyes. Her eyes drilledinto mine like lasers. I wanted to look away, but couldn't.

Finally she said, "You belong to me. You may not like it, you may notwant it, but that's the way it is. You're not the only bitch I'll get fromthis building. I have my eye on the brunette in Apt 23 . She's almost ready.I give her another two weeks before she's on her knees here. Then there's theguy in 36. He practically salivates whenever I walk by. I can get him anytime.But you were my prize. Cute, successful, alone - no girlfriend or family, worksout of the apartment, and best of all - a closet submissive tv. Low hangingfruit.

Now, a few rules. You will always call me Mistress Susan, when we are alone,with other people, or on the street. You will never be standing when I am inthe room. You will be on your knees or prone. You will be available wheneverI want you. If you are not here, I will page you or call you. You must be herewithin five minutes or you will be punished. You will always wear my collar.It is not removable without damage. If you remove it, you will be damaged.I am physically stronger than you and mentally tougher. You are a helplesssissy. You need my control. You need my training. I will give you a cassettetape to play at night to reinforce my training. You will buy and wear women'sunderwear at all times. Throw out your present clothes tomorrow. You will getcrotchless panties, garter belts, nylon stockings and bras. If you go outside,you must wear these under your normal shirt and pants. I will provide a lockingcock harness with only one key - which I will keep. You will be able to piss,but not have erections without my permission. You will wear lipstick and liplinerin this building. You will practice walking steadily in high heels until youcan handle 6" stilettos. You will spend most of your day in my apartmentcleaning, cooking, washing, and assisting me with my clients. Oh, I forgotto tell you. I'm a professional dominatrix. I have men in here on their kneesall day. You will also keep my equipment clean. Whips, chains, bondage gear,and your favorite, dildos. I may use you for demonstrations, or rent you outto some women for special parties. Your ass is mine, and I intend to use it".

I listened in disbelief. My world was crumbling. I couldn't believe it. Denial.Mistress Susan had outlined a life of complete servitude. She seemed so matterof fact that I knew this wasn't the first time she had done this. Everythingwas planned. Rules were in place. Special items ordered. I was the last piecein the puzzle.

The doorbell rang and I froze in shock. The outside world. Mistress Susanpulled me along behind her, using my cock as her leash. I hurried to keep up.She looked through the spy hole for a moment, obviously recognized the caller,and opened the door. I tried to hide behind the open door, but was pulled outfor inspection. Tall grey-haired women stood next to Mistress Susan. She worea black skirt, white high-collared shirt and high heels. Her thin lips werecovered with blood-red lipstick. She almost looked like a strict elementaryschool teacher.

Mistress Susan looked at her and said, "Mother, I'm so glad you're here.I have the perfect apartment across the hall for you to live. And you can helpme train my new bitch. Between us, she won't have a moment free to worry herpretty little head." She pulled me forward by my cock and said, "Isn'tthat right, Stephanie? Say hello to my mother, Madame Roget."

Before I even had a chance to open my mouth, Madame Roget slapped my face.Her hand felt as hard as her daughter's. "What are you doing on your feet!Get on your knees immediately." I dropped as soon as she gave the command.Almost without thinking. "Now say hello properly, slave." I openedmy mouth to welcome her, and barely got out the first word, when she slappedme again.

"That's not the proper way for a bitch to say hello to its owner. Obviously,Susan hasn't had the time to train you correctly. I'll remedy that. Now, crawlbehind me, lift my skirt and put press your face into my ass. Lick my entireass crack and then lovingly kiss and rim my asshole. When you are finished,bow behind me with your head touching the floor. That's the proper welcomeI expect." I crawled as instructed and put my head under her skirt. Shewas not wearing panties, only a garter belt and nylons. I pressed my face forwardand started using my tongue. She was very sweaty and I licked her clean. ThenI worshipped her asshole and returned to a kneeling position behind her.

"Not bad for the first time. I think it's a good thing that I arrivedwhen I did. You obviously need full-time training and Susan will be busy withclients and working the rest of the building." I looked up in amazementat the mother-daughter dominant duo. This morning I was a free man. This afternoonI was the slut-slave property of an overweight unattractive woman and her grey-hairedelderly mother. You never know.

It has been almost three months since I became the property of Mistress Susanand her mother, Madame Roget. My former life seems like a dream, as if it belongedto another person. And I guess it did. Everything Mistress Susan told me thefirst day has come true. I am her bitch, and her mother's also. They both useme on a regular basis. Madame Roget moved into my apartment. She has the bedroom.My other room, formerly my office, is now the office/gym. I sleep chained tothe foot of either Mistress Susan's or Madame Roget's bed. Available for nightlytoilet service. And of course the morning and evening cunt-sucking ritual.I never know which dominatrix will use me that night. I am still kept in astate of confusion and have gotten used to following orders immediately andwithout the slightest hint of objection. They both want me to keep working,so during the day I am chained (literally) to my desk. Since my professionas a graphic artist allowed me to work from my home, my clients did not suspectmy new living arrangement. Any pay went directly to my new owners. MistressSusan has several slaves whose income she controls. Aside from sessions asa professional dominatrix, both she and her mother have made themselves wealthyby accumulating financially successful submissives and taking control of theirincomes. I never realized the depth of the information that Mistress Susanhad accumulated prior to her conquest of me in her apartment. She had copiesof my tax returns, client list, bank statements, resume, medical records andinternet membership sites. She played with me like an angler landing a fish.I never had a chance. The same was true about the other people in the buildingshe mentioned. Her words at the time were:

"You're not the only bitch I'll get from this building. I have my eyeon the brunette in Apt 23 . She's almost ready. I give her another two weeksbefore she's on her knees here. Then there's the guy in 36. He practicallysalivates whenever I walk by."

The brunette is Apt 23 was indeed on her knees before Mistress Susan in twoweeks. Her name was Carol; now she answers to "cunt". Even knowingwhat was going to happen, I still was astounded at the speed and effectivenessof Mistress Susan's domination. She had gathered considerable background onCarol's finances and sexual preferences. She even had the private notes fromCarol's psychological therapist. Apparently Carol had one lesbian experiencein college, but was strictly heterosexual. Mistress Susan changed that quickly.Carol was no match for her physically (neither was I), and the threat of continuedpain made Carol very compliant. Her bondage was more severe. She was tied withropes in very uncomfortable positions, usually leaving her cunt, asshole ortits available for easy access. Her tits (36c) were squeezed in tight rubberbands and her nipples pierced and hung with weights. Her cunt was filled withall manner of objects - broom handles, coke bottles, flashlights, cucumbers,and her asshole was abused in a similar manner. Her mouth was assaulted andshe almost always had a gag or dildo in it. She was forced to swallow pillsthat made her more malleable. I have no idea what they were. After three days, "Carolthe Cunt" was added to the list of possessions of the Roget family.

"The guy in 36" was no problem at all. He was practically a slaveeven before he walked into the trap. He was not a prize specimen, but he didhave a trust fund income that made him a worthwhile addition. After the firstday, I never saw him again. He was sent to another state, to one of the Roget'srelatives. I have no idea where, who or why.

Madame Roget continued my training whenever I was not with Mistress Susan.I now cleaned both apartments on a daily basis. I also cooked all meals, whichwere eaten in my old apartment. The food was ordered over the internet fromcompanies like grocery.com. It was always left outside the apartment door.I became adept at cooking meals to their taste. I would serve all meals astheir waitress and eat the leftovers on my knees from a dog dish. I was notallowed to use my hands. I was given water the same way.

Madame Roget decided to pierce my ears for earrings. Mistress Susan likedthe way the earrings looked so much that she pierced my nipples and cockhead.Small gold rings were locked in place. Chains linked the nipple rings togetherand a separate one hung from the cockring. I was locked to my desk to workby attaching both those chains to an eyebolt in the desk. I could not leavemy desk until my owner released me. I was also branded. Madame Roget showedme the branding iron. It had been in the Roget family for three generations.It looked like a cattle brand except it was smaller and said "Propertyof Roget". The pain was excruciating when the heated iron was seared intomy upper right asscheek.

I am always dressed as a sissyslut. I have become proficient at makeup. Myreal hair is growing out, and soon I will forego the wig for my own styledhair. My body is kept free of all other hair. Even my balls are shaved smooth.My cock is kept in a cage made of steel wire. It is locked in place, but preventsme from having an erection. I can piss or be tortured through the cage. Thechain from the cockring easily passes through the cage. I have become proficientin walking in high heels. The pain was incredible at first, but I eventuallylearned to accept it. Three inch heels are for everyday use and the six inchstilettos are for "playtime". My asshole has been trained to acceptlarger and larger dildos. A buttplug is usually locked in place to keep meexpanded. Mistress Susan uses my mouth on a continual basis. I have becomeskilled at sucking her cunt regardless of the position in which I must perform.I am even used as her douche. I fill my mouth with soapy water and force ininto her cunt. I must do this until her cunt is clean. The soapy water I swallowusually makes me sick, but that is not an accepted as excuse.

Madame Roget on the other hand was not as physically overwhelming, but muchmore of a disciplinarian. I was always bound, and dressed as her slut. Theslightest infraction was excuse for me to be bent over, wrists locked to ankles,ass up in the air and caned until I cried. Another favorite of my owner wasto order me lie on the coffee table, tie my wrists and ankles to the tablelegs, remove my cock cage, and whip my cock and balls. She loved to watch myballs swell. The third punishment involved the round dining table. I was forced,face-down on the table. Eyebolts had been attached to the bottom of the tabletopto allow my wrists and ankles to be tied. The table was expandable by placingadditional leaves in the top after it had been pulled open. Madame Roget likedto pull the top open, lay me across it perpendicular to the opening, my cockand balls between the open leaves. The top was then pushed together with mycock and balls hanging down. A heavy weight was attached to the cockring. Shecould fuck my ass or beat it, make me suck her strap-on, or beat my balls byflicking her cane under the table, hitting me from below. I was helpless asthe weight attached to the cockring made any movement painful.

If someone had told me six months ago that I would ever eat shit, I wouldhave laughed out loud. I'm not laughing now. Madame Roget considers shit apart of a slave's diet. I didn't want to do it the first time she gave me theorder. By the time she was finished convincing me, I was begging to be allowedto eat it. Now I don't say a thing. I just get on my knees, crawl to the bowland pick out a piece. I think the next step is her feeding it directly intomy mouth from her asshole. She already had a portable toilet seat in the bathroomto be used when she feels like sitting down to piss, but still wants it inmy mouth. She uses my tongue as toilet paper when she pisses or shits. MistressSusan uses me as toilet paper also, but hasn't required me to eat her shit.Yet.

I have been in some sort of bondage every minute since Mistress Susan collaredme. I am rarely alone. Either Mistress Susan or her mother has been close by.Every second of my day is occupied with their tasks. I make no decisions. Ihave no schedule. I only follow their orders.

They seem pleased with my progress. I have given up trying to resist. Theyare both so overwhelming - physically and psychologically. They understandme better than I understand myself. Maybe I really always needed this. I don'tknow that I wanted it, but again, I have no choice. And now I can't picturemy life any other way than under their control.

I occasionally see ?Carol the Cunt? in Mistress Susan's apartment. She isusually bound, blindfolded and dressed like a cheap whore - heavy lipstick,skimpy tight clothes, and high-heeled shoes. Her arms are locked together behindher in a leather armbinder. It is a single tight leather tube that keeps botharms together and extended straight behind her. The position pushes her shoulderblades back and her tits out. It looks very uncomfortable. Carol never saysa word. Her tits have clamps on the nipples which are removed periodicallyby one of her owners. Carol's pain is obvious as they pull the clamps off.When she is seated, her short skirt barely covers her cunt. Once, when I hadgotten a bonus from an advertising client for an exceptionally good job, MistressSusan removed my cockcage and had me stand in front of ?Carol the Cunt?. MistressSusan didn't even say anything. She just snapped her fingers twice. At thatsignal, Carol immediately opened her mouth and leaned forward, searching formy cock. When she found it, she sucked like her life depended on my cumming.Perhaps it did. It felt so good, I didn't care who was doing it. I came veryquickly. Mistress Susan pulled me back and re-attached the cockcage. Carolsat back in the chair. Mistress Susan patted her head, the way you would pata dog.

"Save your energy for the party tonight." Mistress Susan told Carol. "Ifyou do a good job, I'll let you suck my cunt tonight"

Carol spoke for the first time. "I will, I will" she promised withthe first trace of enthusiasm. "I'll make you proud of me. I'll be thebest bitch they every saw. I'll do anything for you."

"I know you will, cunt. You're mine." Mistress Susan said matterof fact.

It was hard to believe that Carol was the same woman who I met four monthsago. That Carol was arrogant and snobbish. This Carol was a puppet. She clearlydemonstrated the Roget family's power to capture, dominate and control.

I still had trouble grasping the extent of their empire. I got hints thatMadame Roget had two other daughters, who were operating the same way as MistressSusan. I had no idea of how many slaves they controlled or the profit generated.I did not even know how long the Roget's had been collecting slaves and theirincomes. There can't be that many successful people who could be taken withoutquestions being asked. It was true in my case, but I was different, or wasI? The Rogets were certainly successful, didn't seem to worry about any authorities,and ran a professional operation. I didn't have time to worry about it. I wastoo busy performing my own tasks as their slut.

True to her word, Mistress Susan did use me for demonstrations, and rentedme out for special parties. I don't know where the women came from, how theyknew about the Roget's or their services. Two women were in Mistress Susan'sapartment when I was led in by Madame Roget. I was completely decked out inmy slut uniform and pulled me along in my 6 inch heels by the chain attachedto my cockring. My hands were locked to the posture collar on my neck. A chainattached to my ankles forced me to take small mincing steps. My lipstick wasthick and visible around the dildo protruding from my mouth. The vibratingdildo up my asshole was not visible, but a constant reminder to me. The restof my attire was standard - bra with big inserts, garter belt, crotchless pantieswith my cockcage sticking out, nylon stockings, and blond wig. The conversationstopped when I minced in. The women were in their late fifties. Their figureswere fleshy, but in fairly good shape. They were dressed conservatively andwore jewelry, which, if real, was very expensive. They did not say anythingdirectly to me, but rather questioned Mistress Susan.

"Are you sure he's clean?" The blond asked.

(They would have been more concerned if Mistress Susan's apartment hadn'tbeen immaculate considering her sloppy attire.)

Madame Roget answered. "Just call the slut, it. It's definitely not a'he'. And yes, it's clean. I make sure of that myself."

They were not about to question someone who looked as severe and confidentas Madame Roget on that score.

"Any limitations?" the brunette inquired.

Mistress Susan smirked, "None. If you break it, you bought it. If youwant either my mother or myself along it will cost extra, but you might considerthe show worth it. We're very creative."

"No, that's okay. I think we can use it just fine."

With that comment, Madame Roget pulled my chain and led me back into her (formerlymy) apartment. Financial arrangements must have been finalized, because thenext night I was dressed in new all-leather undergarments - bra, garter belt,neck collar, wrist and ankle cuffs. My hands were cuffed behind me and locking6" stiletto shoes were locked on my feet. The two women I had seen previouslycame to pick me up. I saw that they were both dressed in all-leather outfitsalso. The blond had on thigh high boots with sharp-pointed spurs that madea noise when she moved. A long monk's cape was placed on my shoulders, thehood covering my head. The garment reached to the floor, hiding my heels. Aleather blindfold was tightly fitted to my head. To check if I could see, MistressSusan had one of the woman slap me. It took me by surprise, and my cheeks stungfrom the blow. I almost fell down. Since someone was holding taunt the chainattached to my cock, I could have been really injured. This was not a goodomen for me. My cock cage was left off so they could use me any way they wanted.

The evening is a blur. I was given some drug that made everything seem unreal.I can't say much more about the evening other than I left, seated in the backseat of a car and returned in the truck, in the fetal position. Those womengot their monies worth. My balls were swollen, my nipples were sore and throbbing,my asshole was on fire and I must have been covered in welts and heel-marks.There are a few clear memories. I remember spurs digging into my back as awoman locked my head with her thighs. She must have used my tongue for 5 orgasms.I'm sure she was the blond who picked me up. She whispered in my ear just beforethe trunk lid was closed, "When Susan is tired of you, you're mine. That'sa promise."

I much preferred Mistress Susan and Madame Roget. Better the devil you know.It was the difference between owning something and leasing it. At least theRogets wanted to use me long term, although Mistress Susan did say "Youbreak it, you bought it." She thought of me as her property and had trainedme to think of myself the same way.

Last week I made an interesting discovery. I overheard part of a conversationbetween Madame Roget and a trust officer at a bank. At least that's my guess.They were discussing someone's assets. After hearing that, it occurred to methat the Rogets might be getting information on whom to devour by learningabout their trust funds or inheritances. Then they could narrow down the listto people who were alone and still further to those who had any submissivetraits. It didn't tell me how they picked me, or some other people in the building,but it fit the guy in apt. 36 . I didn't have a trust fund, but fit the othercriteria. Then I remembered that my ex-wife had worked in a bank. Maybe shehad mentioned my name to someone involved and they knew I would fit the restof the "slave" profile. Maybe it was even on purpose. I'll neverknow. But at least it made some sense to me. Regardless of how it happened,I now belong completely to the Roget family. The combination of physical andmental torture, drugs, brutality, humiliation, sexual stimulation, conditioningand deprivation has changed me. My self-image is of a slut. I must obey myowners. It gives me pleasure to be used by my masters. I will do anything.There is no act too humiliating, nothing I will not do or have done to me.I am docile, submissive, obedient, and trained. Two women I never would havelooked at twice, now are at the center of my universe. I long to worship theirbodies, to eat and drink their waste, to be used for their pleasure and comfort.My bondage is unnecessary now. I wouldn't escape if I could. Where would Igo. They have made me into Stephanie the Slut. I am their bitch.

Another four months have passed since I last wrote.

More changes have taken place. Mistress Susan decided it was time to makemore permanent changes to me. I was drugged and delivered to a clinic for somecosmetic surgery. I now have breast implants (36D), collagen injected lips,and a liposuction-narrowed waist. The physical recovery period was painfuland intense. Mentally, I feel both humiliated and thrilled by my appearance.I am more useful to my owners and feel even more under their control.

When Mistress Susan is meeting a new client, she will have me present in herapartment. I am decked out in the usual attire except for the cockcage, butmy cock is pulled back by the chain from my cockring into my ass so it's notapparent. My 36D tits are bare. When I am not wearing a bra, I am in a tightblack corset. My waist is being constricted more each day since the surgery.The goal is 22 inches. I'm about 25 inches now. A thin chain connects my twonipple rings. My hands are tied and arms pulled over my head. I am suspendedfrom a hook in the ceiling. The 6" stiletto heels just touch the floor.My own blond hair has grown out and is long and styled. My lips are full andshiny with glossy red lipstick. My mouth is filled with a red ball gag. I looklike a real woman, bound and helpless. I am used as an example to new clients.They all see me and wonder. Mistress Susan will lower me to my knees and removethe ball gag. I am ordered to suck the client's cock until he cums. Afterwards,Mistress Susan reveals my cock and makes the client understand that the samething can happen to him. These hourly slaves get really excited with the fantasyand usually become regulars. Their fantasy is my reality.

I still sleep chained at the foot of the bed of either Mistress Susan or hermother. The wake-up ritual consists of me sucking cunt and being used as atoilet before being allowed to make breakfast for my owners. I am fucked byboth on a regular basis, although Mistress Susan is rougher and uses largerdildos. I have adapted to her size and learned how to satisfy her with minimuminjury to myself. I have also been trained to hold my breath longer because,in her excitement, Mistress Susan has made me pass out many times.

Mistress Susan has a little act she likes to show to guests. I am positionedon the floor on all fours like an animal. My tits hang down and my cock isreleased from its cage. Mistress Susan sits next to me and grabs my tit withone hand and cock with the other. To the tune of "Old MacDonald Has AFarm" she alternates milking my tit and my cock. I must moo during thesong at the appropriate places. I am stroked to ejaculation and then forcedto lick up my "milk". Then she attaches a leash to my collar, andI follow along, still on all fours, mooing, as she leads me from the room.

Madame Roget told me that the surgery performed on me was expensive, and Imust work to cover the cost. She has begun taking me to small men-only parties.I am placed on my knees in a bathroom with arms behind me and wrists lockedto my ankles. A posture collar is locked around my neck and a thick chain runfrom the collar to a plumbing pipe under a sink. I am available as party entertainment.How would you react if you went into a bathroom and saw what you thought wasan attractive blond woman with bare 36D nipple-ringed tits, black corset withgarters attached to black mesh nylons, moist red bee-stung lips, bound andchained, kneeling on the floor. Only I am aware of the large dildo shoved upmy asshole and locked in place. Written on a sign on the wall above me is "Thisis Stephanie the Slut. She loves to suck cock. Please use her with our compliments".Most men shove their cocks in my mouth. Some piss in it or even use me as anashtray. Madame Roget will come in about every 30 minutes or so to refreshmy lipstick and make sure I am performing properly. I will be available foruse for about three hours at a typical function. I did go to a women's meetingonce. The sign was changed to "suck cunt", and my cock was visible.The chain from the cockring was attached to the one from my nipples. The womenquickly discovered that jerking on it was an effective way to make me moreenthusiastic in my performance. There was a longer line than usual for theladies room at that party.

I haven't seen ?Carol the Cunt? in a long time. There have been two otherslaves collected by the Roget's in the past four months. I never saw eitherof them before. Their initial training and conditioning took place in MistressSusan's apartment. When they were broken, and accepted their new slave status,they were sent somewhere else. One was male the other female.

It has now been over seven months since my branding. I feel special becauseI am still here and used as a personal slave while the others have moved on.I no longer think of Mistress Susan as fat or Madame Roget as old. They aresimply my owners. I am in awe of them. The Rogets are molding me physicallyto their specifications. They control my thoughts and I think what they wantme to. I don't even hear the audio tapes at night anymore; I am so used tothem. I have been feeling the need to be constantly fucked. I need a dildoor cock in my asshole, my whorehole. I need to work for my owners sucking cockand cunt and being fucked. That is what they want. That is what I need.