Photo 14 Oct 34 notes nuttenabrichter:

even a titless pig can be nice to look at. of course, some efforts needed.

nuttenabrichter:

even a titless pig can be nice to look at. of course, some efforts needed.

(Source: abnormallybound)

Video 14 Oct 75 notes

putmeinherplace:

This one looks much more painful than what I’d care to try. But one the purposes of bondage is to explore unknown sensuous territories. To some degree, pain is one of them. So, a somewhat painful bondage now and then is not something to be disregarded by the true bondage enthusiast. Personally,  if, as in these pictures, Claire Adams was the mistress, no doubt I’d kneel on this spiked board.

Photo 14 Oct 159 notes
Photo 14 Oct 51 notes

(Source: harveygangbanger)

Photo 14 Oct 583 notes

(Source: femalesubmission)

Photo 14 Oct 169 notes humiliationwhores:

I love a leashed whore. Somehow, it’s more sexy with her clothes on.

humiliationwhores:

I love a leashed whore. Somehow, it’s more sexy with her clothes on.

Photo 14 Oct 53 notes humiliationwhores:

Humiliation training 101: The piss test. If the sow won’t drink her own pee on command, she’s not an authentic humiliation whore. Best forget her and move on to the next.

humiliationwhores:

Humiliation training 101: The piss test. If the sow won’t drink her own pee on command, she’s not an authentic humiliation whore. Best forget her and move on to the next.

Photo 14 Oct 404 notes humiliationwhores:

Hush now, it’s okay. Take a break. Only six more customers to service, then you can go back to your cage for a nap.

humiliationwhores:

Hush now, it’s okay. Take a break. Only six more customers to service, then you can go back to your cage for a nap.

(Source: jeunesoumise)

Photo 14 Oct 200 notes humiliationwhores:

Is it weird that every single relationship I have had with a woman has eventually involved a collar and a leash?

humiliationwhores:

Is it weird that every single relationship I have had with a woman has eventually involved a collar and a leash?

(Source: beatemall)

Photo 14 Oct 43 notes humiliationwhores:

“Oh good, you’re awake,” said a pleasant male voice.

The professor tried to clear her head.  She had no idea where she was.  The last thing she remembered was being at the faculty reception.  They had been celebrating the release of her latest book.  All of her colleagues, friends and family had been there. 

She shook her head to clear away some of the fogginess.  As she did, she felt rough cloth against her face.  Some kind of hood?  She tried to speak and became aware of something round and hard in her mouth.  It felt like a stiff rubber ball.  She felt drool running down her chin.

When she tried to raise her hands to uncover her face, she realized her wrists were secured tightly behind her back.

She began to panic, shaking her head from side to side and pulling at her bonds with all her might.  She heard herself grunting with effort around the gag in her mouth.

“There, there.  Hush now.  Don’t struggle.  I’m not going to harm you if you cooperate,” said the same voice soothingly.

She tried to rise, then realized her ankles were cuffed together.  She felt a strong hand pushing down on the top of her head and she immediately became still.

“Calm down and stay down,” said the voice curtly.

The professor tried to pull herself together.  She realized she was hyperventilating inside her hood and concentrated on slowing her breathing.  She took three deep, calming breaths and made an effort to focus her senses.  She began to assess her situation.

Obviously, she had been abducted.  Someone must have spiked her drink, then gotten her in to a car somehow.  She wondered how long she had been out.  Hours?  Days?  She wondered idly if she had been raped while she was out, then realized she could still feel her clothes on her body.  Just a summer skirt and blouse, but they both felt intact.  She was still wearing her panties.

She smelled urine and realized she had wet herself.

The professor focused on her breathing and made a concerted effort to fight down the panic.  After a few minutes, her mind began to clear.   She sat still and listened.

That was when she heard someone whimpering.

The professor turned her head and cocked an ear.  Yes, there was definitely someone sobbing softly in the room.  Right next to her.“Ah, I see you have heard our guest, Professor,” said the voice softly.  “Yes, you are not alone.  You will have a companion on the journey to your knew life.”

Her hopes soared.  At least she was not alone.  It was two against one.  Maybe they could overpower this man and get out of this nightmare.  She knew her husband and family would be looking for her.  By now, they would have called the police.  She just needed to bide her time and stay alive until she could be found.

She heard soft footsteps in front of her.  It sounded like leather soles on a concrete floor.  She realized the man was pacing back and forth.

“Let me explain the situation to both of you,” he said. 

“Your old lives are over.  You are being sold in to slavery.  You will never see your families again.”

he paused to let this sink in. 

"Do you need to pause now for a good cry, Professor?  Your companion already had hers while you were sleeping.  I think she’s nearly cried out."

The professor shook her head. She wanted to hear it all. 

"You are no longer people. You are property. You know longer control your bodies or your actions. You are owned by another human being. This is permanent. It’s most important for you both that you get used to this concept quickly.”

The professor could not believe her ears.  Clearly this man was a lunatic.  Slavery?  People don’t get sold in to slavery anymore.  Not in this country anyway.

And why pick her?  She was forty-three years old.  She understood in a clinical way that she was still quite attractive and she worked hard to keep herself in shape, but she found it hard to believe that some slaver would size her up as a prime catch for some creepy sultan somewhere.  With all the pretty younger faculty and students at the reception, why go after a middle-aged hausfrau like her? She had kids in college, for crying out loud. 

The professor heard him light a cigarette. 

“They call me The Collector,” he said, the paused to take a drag from his cigarette.  

“I collect slaves and sell them to people.  I’m a professional. I am very good at it.  I have never been caught and I have never lost a slave.  You two will put my total at one hundred and one slaves captured and delivered over the past twenty years.”

Another pause, another drag.

“You two are being sold as a matched pair.  I already had a buyer waiting when I abducted you.  This client has very particular specifications when it comes to acquiring female slaves. It took quite a bit of doing to get you both in the same night. I’m rather proud of myself.”

He paused and continued to pace as he smoked. 

“I know you are thinking you can escape, but I assure you that this is impossible.  We are already out of the country.  In Mexico, at one of my safe-houses.  You are in a cell with much more elaborate security features than a typical municipal jail.  The cage can only be unlocked with an access code that only I know.  If you somehow overpower me or even kill me, you both will be trapped in the cell and die of starvation and thirst.  The nearest house is over ten miles away, so nobody will hear your calls for help.”

The professor’s hopes began to fade.  Already out of the country?  In a cell?

“You will stay here for one week to start your training.  Tomorrow, you both will be marked and pierced per your owner’s instructions.  You are both being purchased as sex slaves, not pain-pigs, so most of your training will be focused on improving your sexual skills as opposed to repetitive punishment.  You should be grateful that this is the case.”

The professor felt her hopes ebbing further.  This guy was for real.  He had done this before.  She wondered what “marked and pierced” meant.

“After a week, you will be drugged and transported to the coast, then locked in a specialized container for transport by ship to your new home.  I will accompany you on the journey.”

The professor felt the hand on her head again.

“I want you to nod if you understand me.  Both of you.”

The professor nodded.  She wanted to keep him talking.  The hand was removed.

The professor listened silence.  She wondered how the other woman in the room was handling this information.  The sobbing had stopped.  That was a good sign.

There was a pause, then the man spoke again.

“This is where it gets a little awkward,” he said softly.  There might even have been a trace of sympathy in his voice.

“The client I am selling you to is a rather strict lesbian mistress in Thailand named Mali Wattana.   I know that both of you are straight.  I’ve been watching you for weeks and I think it’s likely that neither one of you have ever been with another woman.  This has to change quickly.  When I deliver you to her, Mistress Mali will expect you to be reasonably well trained at pleasing a woman.”

There was another pause as he drew on his cigarette.

“So starting today, you will both start to improve your skills in this area.  You will make a study of licking pussy and eating ass.  You will also learn to use your fingers and hands to please a woman. I want you both to learn to fist and be fisted as well. Apparently, this is a very popular practice among lesbians. You will practice on each other, of course.”

The professor felt the hand on her head again.  She shuddered.

“This cell is under continuous video surveillance.  When I am not down here with you, I will be watching the monitors.  I expect to see a non-stop pussy party going on all day and most of the night.  I want tongues in pussies at all times while you are awake.  The only time one of your tongues should not be in a pussy is when you are fisting that pussy, at which time your tongue should be in an asshole.  I want you to devote seventy-five percent of your time to licking pussy and twenty-five percent to eating ass.”

The hand was removed from her head. 

The professor slumped against the wall.  This was really happening.   It was worse than she thought. She was going to transformed in to some kind of lesbian fuck toy. 

“And I want to see orgasms, real ones,” said the man sternly.  “We’ll start with a goal of ten orgasms for each of you today and work up from there as the week progresses.  If I see any fakery or any hint that either of you are lacking in enthusiasm, you will both be whipped.”

The man paused for a final drag on his cigarette. 

“Nod your head if you understand,” he said evenly.

The professor nodded her head glumly.  Her shoulders slumped and she bowed her head. She was beaten. 

“But first, it’s time for me to have a little more fun,” said the man cheerily.   The professor could tell he was smiling.  She could sense him looming over her.

“One of the perks of my job is that I get to sample the merchandise.  I’ve already had my way with your fellow traveler while you were out.  She was quite accommodating, I assure you.  I only had to whip her once and she got right in line.  Hard to believe she was an anal virgin.  And such an eager little cock-sucker,” said the voice laughing.

The professor felt a hand under her chin.

“Here’s what’s going to happen next, Professor.  I’m going to remove your hood and gag, then you’re going to suck my cock as if you’re life depended on it.  Then I’m going to use your other holes. And when I’m done I’ll probably do it all over again.  Several times. I’m a big believer in the use of recreational Viagra.”

The professor felt a tug as her burlap hood was removed.  She blinked rapidly in the brightness of the cell for several seconds.  She did not look up at the man.  Instead, she turned her head to the right to get a look at her fellow prisoner.

And found herself staring directly in to the terrified eyes of her nineteen year-old daughter.

The professor’s heart seemed to stop.  She looked her daughter up and down.  She was naked on her knees.  She was gagged and had her hands cuffed behind her back.  There were several red welts on her breasts, but otherwise she appeared unharmed. 

He’d only had to whip her once, she thought.

She looked again at her daughter’s face, staring in to her red-rimmed eyes as the implications of their predicament began to sink in.  Her daughter stared back intently, then nodded almost imperceptibly.  Something passed between them.  They were together.  They would be strong for each other. They would do what had to be done to stay alive.

Vaguely, the professor was aware of the man loosening the strap around her head and removing the ball gag.  She worked her jaw several times to relieve the stiffness as she continued to gaze in to her daughter’s eyes.

Then she heard him unbuckling his belt.

She tore her gaze away from her daughter and looked up at the man who had broken their lives.

He looked like an accountant.  Medium height, short, graying hair.  Wire-rimmed glasses.  A plain face, not one you would remember.  She supposed that was helpful in his profession. 

He stepped up to her with his large semi-erect penis in his hand and pulled her up on to her knees. 

“Open wide, Professor.  And do a good job.  If I feel any teeth, I’ll whip her cunt while you watch,” he said matter-of-factly, nodding his head toward her daughter.

She examined the cock before her.  It was quite large and getting larger by the second.  It was clear that the man was enjoying himself.  He had obviously done this before many times.  How many slaves had he taken?  Over a hundred? 

It’s going to hurt when he rapes my ass, she thought dispassionately.  She was an anal virgin, too. She could see her daughter watching her out of the corner of her eye.  This was something she would have to get used to. 

For a few moments, the professor stared straight ahead, seeing nothing.  She was thinking about her husband and the rest of her family, her career, her friends.  All gone now.  She closed her eyes and sent them all a silent farewell, a soft requiem for a life now past.

Then she opened her eyes, leaned forward and began to suck.

humiliationwhores:

“Oh good, you’re awake,” said a pleasant male voice.

The professor tried to clear her head. She had no idea where she was. The last thing she remembered was being at the faculty reception. They had been celebrating the release of her latest book. All of her colleagues, friends and family had been there.

She shook her head to clear away some of the fogginess. As she did, she felt rough cloth against her face. Some kind of hood? She tried to speak and became aware of something round and hard in her mouth. It felt like a stiff rubber ball. She felt drool running down her chin.

When she tried to raise her hands to uncover her face, she realized her wrists were secured tightly behind her back.

She began to panic, shaking her head from side to side and pulling at her bonds with all her might. She heard herself grunting with effort around the gag in her mouth.

“There, there. Hush now. Don’t struggle. I’m not going to harm you if you cooperate,” said the same voice soothingly.

She tried to rise, then realized her ankles were cuffed together. She felt a strong hand pushing down on the top of her head and she immediately became still.

“Calm down and stay down,” said the voice curtly.

The professor tried to pull herself together. She realized she was hyperventilating inside her hood and concentrated on slowing her breathing. She took three deep, calming breaths and made an effort to focus her senses. She began to assess her situation.

Obviously, she had been abducted. Someone must have spiked her drink, then gotten her in to a car somehow. She wondered how long she had been out. Hours? Days? She wondered idly if she had been raped while she was out, then realized she could still feel her clothes on her body. Just a summer skirt and blouse, but they both felt intact. She was still wearing her panties.

She smelled urine and realized she had wet herself.

The professor focused on her breathing and made a concerted effort to fight down the panic. After a few minutes, her mind began to clear. She sat still and listened.

That was when she heard someone whimpering.

The professor turned her head and cocked an ear. Yes, there was definitely someone sobbing softly in the room. Right next to her.

“Ah, I see you have heard our guest, Professor,” said the voice softly. “Yes, you are not alone. You will have a companion on the journey to your knew life.”

Her hopes soared. At least she was not alone. It was two against one. Maybe they could overpower this man and get out of this nightmare. She knew her husband and family would be looking for her. By now, they would have called the police. She just needed to bide her time and stay alive until she could be found.

She heard soft footsteps in front of her. It sounded like leather soles on a concrete floor. She realized the man was pacing back and forth.

“Let me explain the situation to both of you,” he said.

“Your old lives are over. You are being sold in to slavery. You will never see your families again.”

he paused to let this sink in.

"Do you need to pause now for a good cry, Professor? Your companion already had hers while you were sleeping. I think she’s nearly cried out."

The professor shook her head. She wanted to hear it all.

"You are no longer people. You are property. You know longer control your bodies or your actions. You are owned by another human being. This is permanent. It’s most important for you both that you get used to this concept quickly.”

The professor could not believe her ears. Clearly this man was a lunatic. Slavery? People don’t get sold in to slavery anymore. Not in this country anyway.

And why pick her? She was forty-three years old. She understood in a clinical way that she was still quite attractive and she worked hard to keep herself in shape, but she found it hard to believe that some slaver would size her up as a prime catch for some creepy sultan somewhere. With all the pretty younger faculty and students at the reception, why go after a middle-aged hausfrau like her? She had kids in college, for crying out loud.

The professor heard him light a cigarette.

“They call me The Collector,” he said, the paused to take a drag from his cigarette.

“I collect slaves and sell them to people. I’m a professional. I am very good at it. I have never been caught and I have never lost a slave. You two will put my total at one hundred and one slaves captured and delivered over the past twenty years.”

Another pause, another drag.

“You two are being sold as a matched pair. I already had a buyer waiting when I abducted you. This client has very particular specifications when it comes to acquiring female slaves. It took quite a bit of doing to get you both in the same night. I’m rather proud of myself.”

He paused and continued to pace as he smoked.

“I know you are thinking you can escape, but I assure you that this is impossible. We are already out of the country. In Mexico, at one of my safe-houses. You are in a cell with much more elaborate security features than a typical municipal jail. The cage can only be unlocked with an access code that only I know. If you somehow overpower me or even kill me, you both will be trapped in the cell and die of starvation and thirst. The nearest house is over ten miles away, so nobody will hear your calls for help.”

The professor’s hopes began to fade. Already out of the country? In a cell?

“You will stay here for one week to start your training. Tomorrow, you both will be marked and pierced per your owner’s instructions. You are both being purchased as sex slaves, not pain-pigs, so most of your training will be focused on improving your sexual skills as opposed to repetitive punishment. You should be grateful that this is the case.”

The professor felt her hopes ebbing further. This guy was for real. He had done this before. She wondered what “marked and pierced” meant.

“After a week, you will be drugged and transported to the coast, then locked in a specialized container for transport by ship to your new home. I will accompany you on the journey.”

The professor felt the hand on her head again.

“I want you to nod if you understand me. Both of you.”

The professor nodded. She wanted to keep him talking. The hand was removed.

The professor listened silence. She wondered how the other woman in the room was handling this information. The sobbing had stopped. That was a good sign.

There was a pause, then the man spoke again.

“This is where it gets a little awkward,” he said softly. There might even have been a trace of sympathy in his voice.

“The client I am selling you to is a rather strict lesbian mistress in Thailand named Mali Wattana. I know that both of you are straight. I’ve been watching you for weeks and I think it’s likely that neither one of you have ever been with another woman. This has to change quickly. When I deliver you to her, Mistress Mali will expect you to be reasonably well trained at pleasing a woman.”

There was another pause as he drew on his cigarette.

“So starting today, you will both start to improve your skills in this area. You will make a study of licking pussy and eating ass. You will also learn to use your fingers and hands to please a woman. I want you both to learn to fist and be fisted as well. Apparently, this is a very popular practice among lesbians. You will practice on each other, of course.”

The professor felt the hand on her head again. She shuddered.

“This cell is under continuous video surveillance. When I am not down here with you, I will be watching the monitors. I expect to see a non-stop pussy party going on all day and most of the night. I want tongues in pussies at all times while you are awake. The only time one of your tongues should not be in a pussy is when you are fisting that pussy, at which time your tongue should be in an asshole. I want you to devote seventy-five percent of your time to licking pussy and twenty-five percent to eating ass.”

The hand was removed from her head.

The professor slumped against the wall. This was really happening. It was worse than she thought. She was going to transformed in to some kind of lesbian fuck toy.

“And I want to see orgasms, real ones,” said the man sternly. “We’ll start with a goal of ten orgasms for each of you today and work up from there as the week progresses. If I see any fakery or any hint that either of you are lacking in enthusiasm, you will both be whipped.”

The man paused for a final drag on his cigarette.

“Nod your head if you understand,” he said evenly.

The professor nodded her head glumly. Her shoulders slumped and she bowed her head. She was beaten.

“But first, it’s time for me to have a little more fun,” said the man cheerily. The professor could tell he was smiling. She could sense him looming over her.

“One of the perks of my job is that I get to sample the merchandise. I’ve already had my way with your fellow traveler while you were out. She was quite accommodating, I assure you. I only had to whip her once and she got right in line. Hard to believe she was an anal virgin. And such an eager little cock-sucker,” said the voice laughing.

The professor felt a hand under her chin.

“Here’s what’s going to happen next, Professor. I’m going to remove your hood and gag, then you’re going to suck my cock as if you’re life depended on it. Then I’m going to use your other holes. And when I’m done I’ll probably do it all over again. Several times. I’m a big believer in the use of recreational Viagra.”

The professor felt a tug as her burlap hood was removed. She blinked rapidly in the brightness of the cell for several seconds. She did not look up at the man. Instead, she turned her head to the right to get a look at her fellow prisoner.

And found herself staring directly in to the terrified eyes of her nineteen year-old daughter.

The professor’s heart seemed to stop. She looked her daughter up and down. She was naked on her knees. She was gagged and had her hands cuffed behind her back. There were several red welts on her breasts, but otherwise she appeared unharmed.

He’d only had to whip her once, she thought.

She looked again at her daughter’s face, staring in to her red-rimmed eyes as the implications of their predicament began to sink in. Her daughter stared back intently, then nodded almost imperceptibly. Something passed between them. They were together. They would be strong for each other. They would do what had to be done to stay alive.

Vaguely, the professor was aware of the man loosening the strap around her head and removing the ball gag. She worked her jaw several times to relieve the stiffness as she continued to gaze in to her daughter’s eyes.

Then she heard him unbuckling his belt.

She tore her gaze away from her daughter and looked up at the man who had broken their lives.

He looked like an accountant. Medium height, short, graying hair. Wire-rimmed glasses. A plain face, not one you would remember. She supposed that was helpful in his profession.

He stepped up to her with his large semi-erect penis in his hand and pulled her up on to her knees.

“Open wide, Professor. And do a good job. If I feel any teeth, I’ll whip her cunt while you watch,” he said matter-of-factly, nodding his head toward her daughter.

She examined the cock before her. It was quite large and getting larger by the second. It was clear that the man was enjoying himself. He had obviously done this before many times. How many slaves had he taken? Over a hundred?

It’s going to hurt when he rapes my ass, she thought dispassionately. She was an anal virgin, too. She could see her daughter watching her out of the corner of her eye. This was something she would have to get used to.

For a few moments, the professor stared straight ahead, seeing nothing. She was thinking about her husband and the rest of her family, her career, her friends. All gone now. She closed her eyes and sent them all a silent farewell, a soft requiem for a life now past.

Then she opened her eyes, leaned forward and began to suck.


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