ThesisChapter 12: Ylena Zhukova free porn video

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Course 8 / Day 4: Course Progress Meeting

Participant Notes: Fifty

Jo: Fifty expects corporal punishment to form part of her experience and Ylena has proposed an introductory session today. We will also let her have the first of her e-mail sessions.

Jenny's Recollections

I am in my room. My cell. An escort comes for me. When I stand, she smiles and places a broad leather belt around my waist. My hands are cuffed to the belt behind my back and then I'm plunged into a sweet musky darkness as she drops a leather hood over my head. She must clip a lead to the belt; I feel a tug at my waist. "Come on, Fifty," my escort says, "Just come with me."

I feel panicky at first: walking blind with just the guidance of the lead and the voice of my escort to steer by.

The floor beneath my feet is non-slip vinyl near my room, then stone. We're in a corridor now, I guess. The one that leads to the stairs.

"Fifty, pause." I stop. "Good. You are at some stairs. Now step and step and step. That's it, keep stepping." I keep going up the stairs which wind to the left. Then, there's polished wood under my feet as we reach the landing and finally, carpet as I am guided into somewhere new.

We stop, I hear a door open and then we move again. She pulls the hood from my head and I see that I am in a room with a desk, computer and a stool. The stool is shaped like a saddle. "Sit," says my escort. I lower my backside gingerly onto the chilly seat but thanks to the shape I have to spread my thighs and the front part tends to press on my clit. It feels like leather or vinyl against my naked bum. "You get to send e-mails from here and you'll get to check this e-mail account once a week," she says. She unclips my wrist cuffs. "You can e-mail your safe contact or anyone else but we'll check what you're sending before it goes. Mostly the slaves just like to send a "Hi, I'm having a good time" note to friends, but it's up to you. You get fifteen minutes." She stands back from the desk. I'm obviously not going to be left on my own — but the sensations from the saddle stool are a definite plus.

I think about it for a while. There's nothing I want to say to Angela and I'm not sure what to say to Joe. But, in the end I tap out a short e-mail to him saying that I hope he's fine and that I've managed to get access to e-mail occasionally if he wants to send me anything.

Soon enough my escort is telling me that my five minutes is up, She cuffs my hands back behind me.

At the same time Judy arrives. The escort turns to her and says, "You're to take Fifty up to room number 19". Without waiting for a reply from Judy, the escort pulls the hood back on over my head. I'm not sure where I am going now, but I follow Judy, drawn along by the leash, being led along another corridor and through another door until we stop once again.

"We're here," Judy says to me quietly, as she stops. We're both standing still. Suddenly, I feel Judy's hands stroking and squeezing at my breasts. I can't do anything about it with my hands cuffed behind me. In once instant, I'm shocked, surprised and aroused. It's the first instance of any overtly sexual behaviour since I came here. In an instant I remember that there is almost certainly more to being a slave than being kept naked and washing floors. But, she isn't supposed to be doing that I'm sure.

I hear the sound of a door handle turning. Judy's fondling stops. A voice says, "Ah, you are here. Bring her in. Take her hood off and leave us."

Judy removes my hood. I blink in the light looking at her. She grins at me as much as to say, "Enjoyed that didn't you?" I'm not sure if I did, or not. Judy drops the leash, so it hangs from the middle of my belt down between my legs. She smiles at me again and leaves.

Before me is another girl, this one about my own height, with blonde hair and a happy open face. I'm not sure if I should say anything about what Judy did, but I decide to leave it for now. She smiles perhaps a little diffidently and says, "Hello, Fifty. I am Ylena, but you should call me Gaspazha."

Her English is very good, but accented. I guess from having met colleagues from Eastern Europe at the university that she is from Russia, or possibly somewhere on the Baltic. She has a slim athletic build and she is wearing a fitted leather top, which pushes her breasts upwards just enough to be provocative, a very smart leather skirt (not cheap I guess), black tights and black loafers.

"Now," she continues, "you have come to me to continue your education, so today is training! Come with me." She leans forward and grasps the lead, pulling gently, but insistently forward. We go to an adjoining room. The curtains are drawn giving the room a rather secret air. It is decorated in scarlet red wall paper and a pale blue carpet in the centre of the room is a wooden frame, its middle covered with padded leather. I have seen one before at a fetish show. It's a spanking horse. I feel a knot as tight as any that have bound me grip my stomach.

"Kneel!" Gaspazha insists.

I obey.

"Good! So, you are learning some lessons at last." She walks around me looking at me from each side.

"Excuse me," I say.

"Yes?"

"Is Gaspazha your name?"

"Gaspazha is my title — in Russian. So you are going to learn some very useful Russian!"

My guess was correct

"Do you like CP, little Fifty?" I'm surprised by her use of the 'little', but I know better than to contest it.

"In my fantasies, but I haven't had much experience. Well none actually. My husband does not think it's respectful. And before him ... Well no."

"Hmm," she looks unconvinced. She walks around behind me and runs her hands across my back as though searching for some clue that I am lying. "Well, I'm pleased with your lack of experience really, because I like to work with novices. That way, I can mould you to my ways more easily. Easily for me, that is." She smiles. I smile back, but I do feel very vulnerable. I didn't think that she meant it would be easy for me. "Well, so much to do! Where shall I start? It's like being an artist and you, moi slooga, are my blank canvas. When we have finished today, you will be beautifully decorated in reds, pinks and purples." She can see I look confused. "Moi slooga — 'my slave'. You say 'vash slooga' - your slave. Say it!"

"Vassh slooga," I try to copy her sound.

"Not quite: say vash-shlooga with emphasis on the ooo."

I try again. She smiles tolerantly. "Oh well, never mind for now. But, I can be very encouraging to students. Now. Kiss."

She offers me the tab of her riding crop to kiss and immediately I am frightened that I am completely out of my depth. Gaspazha sees me tense. She reaches forward, stroking the back of my neck, a reassuring touch. The crop has a red star at its tip. There is a knot in my stomach and simultaneously a hot wetness in my loins. Fear and sexual anticipation. The combination of sensations that has always drawn me back to this.

"Bend forward and kiss my feet."

I lean forward eagerly. She must know from my application that I have a strong foot fetish. Or maybe she doesn't mind whether or not I like it.

"That's right. Good across the shoe. Around my ankle, then my calf. Now the other one. Good. Now my toes." She has slipped her foot out from her shoe and her foot smells sweet and leathery. "Now that tickles!"

"I'm sorry," I say pulling back."

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There are all kinds of stress charts out there on the internet that will tell you if you're abnormally stressed or not, and how soon to expect a heart attack, if you are. They don't tell you you're probably suicidal, but they recommend you see your doctor immediately if you score too high. Some of the major things they list on such charts are: marriage, major holidays (Thanksgiving was coming up), major changes in working hours or conditions, trouble with the boss, change of residence,...

Passing the Baton 2 Lilas StoryChapter 8

It was a warm October afternoon; she remembers the date, October 14th. Colette watched her Grandfather sitting in the backyard, drinking whiskey. She played with her Barbie dolls, only bothered a little by her nine year old Brother, Lou, running about with a large plastic model of a B17 bomber. The boy flew about the garden with his toy bomber, attacking whatever it is that nine year old boys attack with toy bombers. She concentrated on her dolls, ignoring him, as she usually did. She...

Joes Humiliation

When I opened the front door I knew something was different, I could sense it in the air. I shut the door and dropped my cases in the hall, glimpsed my black hair passing the hall mirror and headed straight for the lounge. There was nobody there, but there had been and recently by the look of the two wine glasses and discarded bottles that littered the coffee table carelessly. A low constant thudding noise registered in my hearing from above and I hurried to the staircase afraid of what I would...

MARILYNS LESBIAN AWAKENING

“Tell me why?,” I ask knowing the answer. “Your pleasure is my pleasure. And you could watch me masturbate.” “Promise me then, make it happen, soon, very soon, or I will,” I moan as his tongue teases me to a huge orgasm. I am Marilyn, a softly spoken lady and I am proud of my gourmet talents in the kitchen and my whorish talents in the bedroom. What man doesn’t want a gourmet cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom? I am in my early forties, like many women in their forties my...

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Becky Goes Black

Fucking prick. I hated Marcus. I dealt with him enough throughout high school. It was senior year, and I was still dealing with him! He was one pompous asshole. Black and lean with vascular muscles and muscular thighs, Marcus was a multisport all-state athlete, played defensive back in football, and he was lauded for it. He liked to call himself ‘Primetime’ after some old football player by the name of Deion Sanders or somebody. Pardon my French, but it was always so fucking annoying to...

My First Encounter With My Girlfriend

Hi. Guys.. I am in relation with my girlfriend since 3 yrs but due to my job i left my home town and came to Hyderabad. but as she is studying she was in my hometown. This story happens when she came completed her Degree and came for Hyderabad for job search. When we used to stay in our hometown we used to meet in some lonely places and used to have some kissing and hugs but not more that.. some times we used to have an erotic chat on mobiles but we never dare to go forward as we didnt have...

My mind a bit dark

I lay, on my front, on the bed tied by my hands and feet and a mask stopping me from seeing him. I know he is there I can hear his breathing as he smokes his cigarette – he only smokes in the bedroom where he knows my heightened senses can smell the horrible acrid smoke – he does it because I hate it! Although I hate it I love because it meant he was still here. I moved a bit and felt the thong attached to the nipple clamps stretch taut and tug at my nipples. Even with him not touching me I...

The Gas Station

Gareth had no interest in relationships. On the few occasions when he tried to settle down believing that he had found ‘the one,’ boredom very shortly set in. Gareth even found it difficult to indulge in repeat performances with guys that he had formerly enjoyed, because with the anonymity gone, somehow these reprises always fell flat.For Gareth, the unexpected was what fuelled him. He always felt like a kid opening a Christmas present as a zipper was pulled down and the smell and taste of a...

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House Slut in the Bahamas pt8 Daddys Night

Stumbling in just after midnight, without their clothing and in an extremely dishevelled state likely didn’t leave much to Daddy’s imagination either. The all stood in silence, until the door eventually slamming shut and locking behind the two girls seemed to snap everyone out of it. Daddy threw back the mouthful of brandy in his glass and set it down on the table, slowly walking toward them with a fierceness in his expression. “Daddy, we can explain…” Tegan started. “I’m sure you can,...

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