Chloe's Education

 

It's shocking how fast things had happened to me! A week ago I was straight. Now I was... well, I don't know what I was! Kara, a gay girl I had known a little in high school, approached me at the end of our senior year about working for her mom's swimwear design studio. Hey, it was way better than the law office clerk job I'd had lined up for the summer, and paid better!

Then she'd seduced me into this incredibly wild, kinky lesbian sex thing! I mean, at first I was just so overwhelmed with how wicked and exciting it was I couldn't resist! And then, well, it was like I was addicted to that wild excitement, that breathless, scalding heat! I couldn't really say no afterward because I wanted more of it!

Then it had continued at work, involving one of the women there, Melicia, an Amazonian black woman, and finally, Mrs. Sampson, Kara's mother, who had decided that if I was going to be Kara's 'sex slave' I should be trained properly!

Now, the reason that made me nervous – as well as anxious and unsettled and embarrassed and other wild emotions, is that I had no intention of being Kara's sex slave! Come on! That's nuts! I was enjoying our wicked little bondage games and pretending to be her sex slave, but the way her mother was acting like it was real was... scary!

And today was scariest, because it was Friday, and we'd finished work, and I'd promised to stay over the weekend with Kara.

So here I was sitting naked on the edge of a chair, my hands behind my neck, my back arched, wearing nothing but a studded leather collar and matching restraints around my wrists and ankles! My legs were spread wide, and balanced solely on the balls of my feet.

And Kara and her mother were... were looking at me!

That made my mind squirm in all sorts of ways. I was nervous about what they planned for me, and self-conscious as I sat there with my legs spread so wide, and yet also... breathless, my chest tight, my stomach churning, and a dark wild energy was flowing through my body.

Mrs. Sampson had a riding crop in her hand. That was a slim, flexible, two foot long length of fiberglass wound in leather. There was a handle on one end, and a flat, flexible length of leather at the other which was about two inches long and an inch wide.

Mrs. Sampson was rubbing that slim length of leather back and forth across my breasts as she looked down at me.

“What is a sex slave?” she demanded.

I felt instantly anxious. Was she asking me!? I wasn't sure how she wanted me to define it! What if I got it wrong?!

The tip of the crop slapped lightly and repeatedly against my right nipple, enough to make me wince.

“Speak, slave.”

“I... I... it's... a … a girl who has sex with whoever she's told to,” I gulped.

She snorted and let the tip of the crop slide downward, then slap lightly against my stomach.

“A slave, is owned by her master or mistress. That means her body, and everything about her is owned and controlled by her master or mistress. The master or mistress sets all the rules and the slave abides by them. Your master or mistress decides what and when you eat and drink, or whether you do eat or drink. Your master or mistress decides when you sleep or if you sleep, and where, and for how long.”

The crop slid up and tapped lightly against my left nipple.

“Your master or mistress makes all decisions. What you wear, if you wear anything, where you go and when and what you do there. What chores you do, or don't do. What games you play, or don't play. Whether you have sex, and what type of sex, and with whom.”

She let the slender tip of the crop slide down my abdomen and then rub up and down against the line of my sex, and over my clitoris. That produced a sparkling thrum of additional energy that made it hard to keep from moving!

“A sex slave, is clearly a sub-group of slave. A field slave might be a slave designed to work in a field, for example. A sex slave is clearly a slave whose sole purpose in life is to please others sexually. She slapped lightly against my sex and I winced and flinched, my legs instinctively jerking in closer together.

“Spread your legs wide, slut, and keep them that way,” she growled sternly.

I gulped and obeyed, feeling my chest tighten further. It was so... fucking wild and kinky the way she treated me like I was really a sex slave!

She glowered, then she resumed rubbing.

“A sex slave is a creature of sex, a sexual animal, a nymphet who arouses others by simply being there, by posing, by looking beautiful and sexually provocative. A sex slave is used for sexual purposes by her mistress or master, or anyone else they decide to loan her body to.”

She let the tip slide up along my taut belly, then glide over my breasts again as I sat there trying not to move, trying to keep my breathing from getting too ragged.

“You,” she said, “Are clearly meant to be a sex slave. Your body is exquisitely beautiful and full and lithe and sensual. You have a beautiful face, and long, soft, silky blonde hair. You could be a picture in a dictionary under 'sex slave'. You are also an extremely sexual girl, and have the submissive mentality of a slave girl.”