Fetish

Keywords: 02, BDSM, Seduced, into, Year, Old, Nineteen, Ch.,

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Ch. 02 – Raven's View of Tammi's Training


I can't stand that Tammi bitch! Of course, I know why Sir likes her. She's blond and young and fresh and innocent. She's leggy. She can almost look at him shoulder to eye, unlike me who has to look at him chest-to-eye. She's got a nice face. And she's got those huge tits! G*d, I wish I had big tits!

I've got super-long legs for my small frame, but I wouldn't mind having super-big tits to go along with them..

But Sir should see how much better I am for him than she is! I'm already perfectly trained. I know just how to suck his cock. I can take all the brutality he wants to dish out. I love it. I love him. I understand and love every mood he can ever get in. I'm devoted completely to him. I'm his submissive! I'm his slave! What else is there to say? What can that whore Tammi give him that I can't give him better and more often and with more stamina! She'll never be as good or as obedient or as submissive as me. How could she be?

Of course, Sir doesn't care since he's grooming Tammi into his submissive just like he's already molded me...why be satisfied with one "piece of tail" (as he refers to us), when he's got enough stamina and energy to handle two? But that still doesn't make me happy about it.

But he's a male...and he's Sir. If he wasn't interested in breaking in new pussy (again...another one of the pet euphemisms he uses), then I guess he wouldn't be the guy that showed me who I really am, much as it hurts my pride to admit it. Can I really expect that the kind of guy that could me make me so devoted to him would truly be satisfied with just one girl on his leash? At least *I am* his submissive! Thankfully, I'd been a real woman, serving a real man, for a few years now. Not like Tammi...young and dumb. At least I'm trained and happy and content and have been so for *awhile*.

He had Tammi chained against his "post" right now, arms up to each side and out of his way...legs chained apart and kept there by a short chain going from one leather ankle cuff, around the post, to the other leather ankle cuff, forcing her to keep her legs spread around and to the sides of his post, not obscenely, but enough to be vulnerable. I was very familiar with that position and how much he liked it (I really, really loved it myself). As a girl, you're helpless and open. It's not a great position to fuck, but it's a great position to be dominated and worked over. He can get at any part of my body (that bitch-whore's body, in this case) that's presented to him, front or back. He can get access to mouth or pussy. He can bitch-slap (and Sir has an awful, degrading, humiliating, brutal, and just plain mean way of bitch-slapping me when I'm tied to that post), he can spank, he can use his belt, he can use the horse crop, he can use the cane. He can finger-fuck. He can do almost anything. And you can't protect yourself at all...not with your hands above you and your legs held apart.

In fact, he'd been working over that whore Tammi's back for several minutes now with his belt...she's red all over. And here I am, on my knees...off to the side...helpless to catch his attention while he continues to methodically convert this lucky bitch from clueless female to devoted Fucktoy (why do I keep using Sir's method of describing girls?).

At least I'm here as well, I guess...even if I'm four feet away on my hands and knees and relegated to helpless and frustrated observer, rather than lucky and grateful participant.

Things could be worse, though. I could be without him.

Tammi's thighs are red. Her ass is red. Her back is red. She's just plain red all over. He is stiff and who could blame him. His stiff cock is making my mouth water. He used his palms on her ass. I can see the angry stripes that marked the belt across her back. Seeing him strap her makes me gush with moisture, amazed at the way she looks and at the enjoyment in his eyes.

Tammi is grunting and crying out under Sir's not-so-tender care, but she doesn't use a safe word. She's gotten used to Sir's strong hand. He is expert at being hard enough for a girl to feel it and to get excited and to hurt (and to feel good), but not hard enough to make it un-sexual or non-fun. He is truly evil in his control, because he makes you admit to yourself that you like it and that you like it HARD, not soft. By making it hard, he makes it impossible to be satisfied with it soft. I know what Tammi is going through because I'd been there myself. I felt sorry for her, but I also felt envious that she was going through that self-discovery process and it was something that I wouldn't feel again.

I already knew I liked my sex hard, not soft. I couldn't re-learn that. And although I wouldn't go back...I really looked back with fondness on those days of newness and wonder and absolute amazement, as I was broken down physically and emotionally and sexually and rebuilt into Sir's perfect Fucktoy.

How can you be satisfied with a regular man when you've been fucked by an alpha male? How can you be satisfied with a soft spanking when you've had a hard spanking...and know how much more intense and wonderful it is? How could any girl be satisfied with being in charge when she's experienced being dominated? It's a one-way street, I think. The only girls that don't like to be dominated and exploited and used are the girls who haven't been dominated and exploited and used by a man that actually knows what he's doing. They don't like it because they haven't gone through it! That's all.

Gosh, was I lucky that I'd met such a man!

In fact, getting spanked playfully by Sir is a turn-off for me now rather than a turn on. When Sir wants to spank me, I want him to spank me HARD! I could tell he was molding Tammi to those same tastes. I could see her eagerly sucking on his fingers when he dipped them into her cunt and brought them up to her face...to prove to her that she got wet to the belt...that she got wet to his palm and to his desires. He was a connoisseur of females. He loved them. He'd remark to me, walking down the street, how beautiful that one's red hair was and this one's legs were. He could find something good to say about almost any girl.

How he could learn to treat girls the way he did, when he found them so beautiful, I don't understand. But he did and I'm one of them. And that slut Tammi looked like she might become a second one. I hated her beautiful body, striped and heaving, against Sir's post. I wanted the girl tied to that post to be me instead.

And now he was motioning me over to suck his cock! I loved to suck his cock anytime, but to suck it while he was swinging the belt over my head to finish off Tammi's backside....G*d! Another flush of moisture dripped down my legs.

He was hard and straight and long and thick...just like always. I worshipped my Sir's cock. He'd taught me to worship it. I hated that I was sharing it now with that unbelievably lucky post-chained bitch behind me. How could she service him properly! There was no way that she could worship him better than I could! For starters, she was bigger than me, even if she was a goddess. No way could she grip his cock, or provide as tight a fit as I could. No fucking way!

I lost his cock while he turned her around. She's quiet, breathing heavy. G*d, that rack of hers (beautiful, I have to admit it) is facing out now. The bitch is in a haze of pain, but I can also tell that she's like a kitten in his hands. He's in complete control as usual.

He's wrapping her tits in telephone wire now. G*d, that makes them stick out like ripe melons. He's using the post as well...wrapping her tits in wire and wrapping the wire around the post too, to both imprison that magnificent breast flesh and secure it against the whipping post. Of course, it was simply a structural post in the house, but it was a whipping post, in reality. It was one of several everyday, mundane things that Sir used to dominate me completely with.

He used clothespins or tiny c-clamps from the hardware store on my nipples to satisfy his own sexual fetishes. He used a belt on my body. He used packaging tape to shut my mouth when he wanted to. He used vegetable or highlighters or anything else lying around to fuck me. He used a wooden spoon from the kitchen to thwack me. He used a spare curtain rod to cane me. He used a dog leash to collar me. He used a snap hooks and pet leashes to handcuff me. He made me lick his boots clean to humiliate me.

Someone could walk into this house and go through all our drawers and never suspect that he was a sexually dominant male and I was a sexually subservient female. But he used the everyday things, just lying around, to completely control me sexually. He was a devil, but he was my devil.

Every breath she takes pushes that tit-flesh into the wire. What a sight. I wish I had her tits. Maybe he'd pay that kind of attention to my breasts then...in addition to all the other delightful and wicked things he does to my body.

In fact, if I had a cock, that sight would certainly get me stiff as well (I was certainly wet). No wonder Sir's cock is rampant as he stands in his glory while molesting that blond whore.

I wish his cock were back in my mouth or in my cunt. Every time I see his cock, I get wet. That's not surprising, though...I'm usually wet when Sir is in a sexual mood. His mood triggers my wetness, like I'm some sort of highly trained pooch. I guess, in reality, I'm a highly trained cunt (one of his pet names for me is his "pint-sized cum-dump").

But now I'm happy, because he is back in my mouth now. He's smiling down at me with a wicked grin as he cocks his arm back to lay his belt on Tammi again, but this time to the front of her torso rather than her backside. I can almost see what he's thinking. He's enjoying himself, just like always. He knows how ridiculous it is to have a girl bound to a post in his home, naked, teary, strapped, tit-wired, with a way out (if she uses her safe word) that she won't use (because he'll stop having sex with her at all then).

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Keywords: 02, BDSM, Seduced, into, Year, Old, Nineteen, Ch.,