tagBDSMSarah's Adventure Ch. 01

Sarah's Adventure Ch. 01


Giday! After reading a lot of really good stories over the years, and coming across a few really good ones on this site, I decided it was time to tell my own story. Some parts were "taken" from other peoples' work, and this is only because it mirrored my own experience and in no way was it meant to take away from theirs, take credit for anything, or infringe on their work or anything else of the sort, and I'm working on getting their permission for doing so. And for those peoples' work I did "borrow" from, I apologize ahead of time, and if there are any issues, you're more than welcome to contact me and I will do my very best to take those parts out and completely redo them on my own, if I haven't done so already.

Anyways, great big disclaimer: This story features lots of BDSM and while the acts in this story were all done safely and between consensual adults, it is by no means "soft core". There's nothing severe, mind you, but nonetheless it's with fair warning before you proceed any further...

Also, it's very, very long, so I'll be posting it in parts.

All that being said, enjoy!


I was 18 when I had my first real taste of what it was like to be a submissive. Before then, I had only experimented, mostly on my own; trying out little things here and there and experimenting some when I masturbated. I'd try to get my boyfriend to tie my wrists to the bedpost and spank me, but I could tell his heart was never really into it and I wanted more. On my own, I read books such as the Sleeping Beauty trilogy by Anne Rice, but I could never find a willing partner to explore some of the topics discussed or the things that were portrayed in the books, so I was alone. Left to my fantasies as it were.

After returning home one day though, after I had finished a heavy session of Hot Yoga, I collapsed in a pile of sweat and exhaustion on my bed. Too tired to sleep and too exhausted to do anything else, I did what came naturally, and started rubbing myself between my legs with my fingers. I was incredibly horny, and rolled onto my side as the rubbing grew a little harder. I then sat up with a gleam in my eye and made my way toward my dresser, pulling out several items I had recently purchased; some padded handcuffs, a cloth gag, a large, black vibrator, and several other items before settling down back on the bed.

"God, what at a bod" I hissed, slapping my ass and talking as though I were someone else, someone who was in control, someone who was crude, primal and dangerous. "You need a good FUCK!" I continued, groping and kneading my breasts.

Jumping up on my knees, I cuffed my feet, then inserted the large plaything, which took a few erotically, agonizing minutes. I pulled a G- String up and into place, covering the toy and preventing it from escaping. I then then picked up a leather belt with several rings orbiting the outside and affixed it around my waist. Picking up the gag, I placed it over my mouth and tightened it around my head with more straps. The gag was a simple ball gag, which was held in place by a single strap in the back of my head.

After gagging myself, I cuffed my hands behind my back and to the ring on the back of the belt. I was now completely restrained and felt absolutely wonderful. With a dexterous click, I pressed the on button and lay back as the low hum of the vibrator began to build.

My naked, bound body surged and rolled about slowly as my mind raced with fantasies, sending waves of erotic stimulation through me as the vibrator added to the tension, slowly building its vibrations like it was designed to. Each thing I thought of was more shocking and exhilarating than the next, dreams of being placed into helpless submission. I rolled about moaning and surging as my climax grew closer and closer...

"MMMMMMmmmm!" I moaned under my gag and twisted around on the bed, still close but not quite ready yet to step over the edge to embrace the orgasm that was waiting. Reaching between my legs as best I could, I groped at the cord for the vibrator and fished the remote into my cuffed hands.

"Maybe a little higher..." I moaned, then winced as the low vibrations made me sweat with building sensation.

Suddenly, a never-before-felt-sensation of intense vibration shot through my pelvis, sending me bucking about in panic. Looking around so I could see the dial, I had accidently pegged it to the 10 mark. I normally enjoyed a heavy workout of 4. Bucking about on the bed and groaning from the now intense vibrations coming from between my legs, I went hog wild for an instant and the remote flew from my grasp to crash to the floor. It was now on its full 120 volt setting.

My hips rolled slowly and erotically as the toy drove me closer toward a now unwanted and uncontrollable climax. "Got to gett... itttt.... ouutttt," I thought, trying to hold back the flood. Soon I was frantically twisting about, struggling as the sensation from the vibrator began to overwhelm me and an instant later, I screamed uncontrollably as my climax nearly tore me apart.

My hips shot upward, pushing the mattress and box spring nearly off their frame and me to the floor. I rolled about on the heavy, double bed until it was a mess of blankets, pillows and stuffed toys. Being multi-orgasmic, I continued to violently pound my hips about as wave after wave forced me down again and again and panic filled my desperate mind as I knew too many climaxes like this would certainly dominate her.

It was some time later before I was able to roll off the bed to the floor, and another little while after that until I could find the keys to the cuffs and get out of my self-imposed bondage.

Dazed, I staggered from my bedroom some time later, clutching my pelvis just below my stomach and holding my head. It had been nearly two agonizing hours since I first knelt down on the bed and then spent the rest of the time almost helpless as the vibrator continued its relentless work. My only saving grace was the fact the toy was not designed to run at such a voltage and its poor internal workings had finally seized.

No worse for wear though, but I was a little "damaged" by the experience. At some point during the ordeal, the toy and the bondage had been too much and I had succumbed to its effects. The constant climaxes had pushed me over the edge, beyond my ability to cope or resist, and I was dominated for a time. I staggered about afterwards, my mouth hanging open and my eyes glazed over with a veil of haziness as I sauntered slowly into the living room. I dropped to my knees, unable to comprehend or care about anything. At that point I would have obeyed anyone without question, performed any act, allowed anything to happen to me. I collapsed utterly defeated.

An hour later, the oppressive sensation had lifted and I returned to the bedroom. "Can't ever let that happen again," I mumbled as I clutched my head. "I can't believe I lost to a vibrator," I winced as I picked up the now broken plastic toy, throwing it in the bin.

Chapter 1: How It All Began

I was 19 when it all really began, and believe it or not, it started with an ad in the newspaper, which read: "Obedient live-in maid wanted to service the needs of an upper class lady". How quaint.

It was a time in my life when I was still experimenting with things sexually, and I could read between the lines and understood what the subtext of the ad was really looking for; in other words, it was a normal ("vanilla") way of advertising "Mistress searching for a slave" but without really coming out and saying it. Besides whatever else the actual job would entail, I had just started university so I could really use the money, and I was pretty open sexually, so as nervous as I was dialling the number, I was also kind of excited too.

"Hello," a lady answered.

"Yes, my name is Sarah and I'm calling in reference to your job opening for a maid... is it still available?" I asked nervously.


"Yes Ma'am, I understand. I have always been a very obedient worker and would love to work as your maid." Not a 'hard' worker, I told her, but an 'obedient' one. I knew this wouldn't be a normal job interview. It was a brief conversation, but we both knew what the other was talking about, without having to come out and say it, and we were on the same page as it were.

"Briefly describe yourself to me," the lady asked.

"You mean my employment history?" I questioned.

"No my dear, what do you look like?"

"Oh, well, honestly, I'm only 19, but I really need this job and I'll work real hard and do exactly as you say..." I rambled nervously, fearing my age would bring an end to the interview.

"Calm down my dear, 19 is fine. Go on my dear, tell me more."

"Well, I have long brown hair, I'm 5 foot 9 inches tall, and I weigh about 140 pounds. All my friends say I'm very pretty and..."


"Right now!" I said eagerly.

"Very well, be here within the hour," the lady instructed, giving me the directions to her home. I hung-up the phone and let out a hushed yelp of excitement.

I soon arrived at the ladies' luxurious two-story penthouse apartment in the heart of downtown and rang the doorbell. After a brief time, the door opened, and there she stood; a tall, buxom, dark-haired lady in her early to mid-thirties, wearing a short black silk robe. She was stunning! Whereas I had the super model good looks and the height to back them up, where I turned heads on the street and made the guys stop in their tracks, this woman was just something else, and she radiated a presence. She was breathtaking, almost literally.

She was a slender, long-legged woman with a sleek hourglass figure. She stood almost a good inch or so taller than me, and had wide shoulders which sat on a large, full chest, which ran eloquently down to a narrow, shapely waist. Her shape then curved out around a full, wide set of hips and what I could only imagine was a large but appetizing rear end. Her legs were very shapely and full and were quite long, taking up more than half her length.

Unlike my face, which was perky and girlish in appearance, her was full and very womanly. She had a strong, wide jaw and full facial features that made it very hard to determine her real age, and which gave her a look of sophistication. Her eyebrows seemed to have a slight tilt to them as well, so no matter what expression she had, they made her eyes have a wicked, devious look that lead one to believe this woman always had something sexy on her mind. Her hair was cut in a short, high fashion style that really accentuated her womanly face.

The most obvious feature and the one that I noticed the most, however, were her breasts. They were huge, a full cup size larger than my own. She wore a sheer robe that did nothing to hide her attributes, draped gently from those large, circular, full and firm breasts to the belt tied around her wide hips. They hung with amazing perkiness on her chest, and seemed to be fairly firm but with enough baby fat to allow them to jiggle slightly when the lady moved into the apartment.

"Come in, my dear," the woman said, smiling with approval. Stunned by her magnificent beauty, I nervously stepped into the room. As I stood in the middle of the entryway, the woman slowly walked around, me visually inspecting every inch of my own lithe, athletic body. Although still relatively young, I was very well-developed by that point, and was met with re-assuring approval.

"'Pretty' doesn't do you justice, my dear... and only 19? Hmm, I think you'll work out just fine."

"I won't fail you," I said earnestly.

"So easy to promise," she said. "You don't know what a bitch I can be."

"Maybe I wouldn't mind finding out," I replied, not believing the words that had come out of my own mouth. What perverse impulse had inspired this impudent remark?

Her answer was a laugh, full throated and deep. My pussy throbbed with yearning as she walked around me, taking in all of my curves. "If my instincts are correct, you are most definitely the right girl for the position."

She walked back in front of me then. Placing her finger under my chin, lifting my head slightly, she stared deep into my eyes. "Are you willing to obey my every command -- no matter how unusual it may be?"

I looked up into her beautiful, dark and hungry eyes and found myself very aroused by the woman's gaze and her ultimate request. I paused briefly and wondered to myself what could this woman possibly request? What would a `yes' answer really mean for her?

"Yes Ma'am, I will obey your wishes and I will do anything you request of me," I responded in a very subservient voice. My little girl voice.

"Very, good, my dear. I think you will work out quite well."

The "interview" went on for quite some time after that, as we moved into the kitchen, where she proceeded to ask me all of "the other kind of questions".

"So -- how long have you been a sexual submissive?"

There it was -- so bluntly stated, the plain fact that she had been so quick to recognize. This was no time to deny anything. An honest question must be honestly answered. I grinned shyly. "All my life, I think."

She laughed at that. "Well, I was born to be a bitch, so I guess that we are a matched pair."

It was an oddly intimate moment, an exchange of confidences between two women.

"Have you submitted to others?"

I shrugged. "My boyfriend in high school spanked me a couple of times, but his heart was never really in it."

"You're not a virgin then."


"Have you sucked cock?"

It was the second phase of the job interview, I realized. She was asking me to list my sexual qualifications, and the thought of refusing to answer never entered my mind.


"Did you just nibble on the tip, or take him to the hilt?"

"All of it," I tossed my hair saucily. She wasn't going to rattle me. "I enjoyed swallowing every inch."

"Did you swallow his cum as well?" She was smiling like a kitten full of milk.

"Yes," I replied, and by that time, the juice running out of my puss was starting to tickle my thighs. "I swallowed every drop."


This caught me off-guard, but only for a moment as I realized what more she wanted. "I sucked every last drop of his cum and smiled while I did it, and asked him for more afterward." She wanted me to play the harlot for her, and I would do my best.

"Have you ever been fucked up the ass?"

A sudden chill passed over me. Part of it was the fact that anal intercourse was the one subject I had not been prepared to discuss. Some secret pleasures were too vile to admit. The other part of it was a sudden suspicion that this was not a casual question, meant to season the stew of confession. She really wanted to know. I could feel my sphincter instinctively contract.

"No. Well -- not with a -- you know, a real..."

And there it was, the topic I had be so dreading but at the same time the most excited about, and she drilled me for the next several minutes, finding out exactly what I had done up to that point, with regards to my own bum.

"Did you like having those fingers wriggling around inside you?" Having found a subject that made me uneasy, and wet between the legs at the same time, she was determined to explore it.

I took a deep breath. I sensed that this interview could represent a turning point in my life. I didn't want to blow it by refusing to be candid, and so I wasn't. She nodded her approval at my answers, and pondered the information while she broke a piece of muffin off and held it out to me. I needed no command, and knew instinctively that it would be improper for me to simply reach out and take it in my hand. I dropped to all fours instead, and crawled to her. I knelt between her legs and opened my mouth.

"An anal virgin then," she mused as I chewed. "Interesting. Now I want you to listen. I knew who you were the first time I heard your voice, and you confirmed it when you arrived at my door. You've got this sweet and sour quality about you that is positively delicious. You're a demure little slut, excellent raw material. You were drawn to me like a moth to a flame, but let's cut the bullshit, shall we? I want to be clear," she continued. "I am an experienced player and you are not. The game I propose is no game for sissies. It's serious, like professional sports or high stakes poker. There are rituals to be observed, tests to be passed, and levels of play. As your skill increases, the game becomes more difficult. There are risks, but all worthwhile activities carry risk. I will take every precaution to protect your physical health, but there are dangers to your psyche. You could become too involved and lose your identity, grow dependent, unable to function anymore in the real world. You might become reckless and ignore warning signs of trauma."

"I'm not afraid," I said.

"Not now," she agreed, "but later on you may battle panic. You will have one choice available to you -- stay or go. You are free to leave anytime, but if you stay, you follow my rules."

"I understand, Ms. Lucy." I wanted to ask what the rules were, but I knew that she would tell me when the time was right. Right now, I wanted her to know that I was willing to bear whatever burdens she required, if only I could be near her.

"What I propose," she said, sipping her tea and breaking off another piece of muffin for me to chew. 'Is a program of systematic humiliation and corporal punishment. The severity of your trials will increase, and when you think that your powers of endurance have reached their limits, I will be there to coax you a little farther. At time you will be struck with a sense of the absurd, sometimes you will wallow in self-pity. You must banish these feelings and trust me to know what is best for you. I will be strict, the rules will be arbitrary, and the penalties for breaking them will be severe. You will surrender all rights and privileges, you will be a toy that I play with, and I like to play rough."

And so it continued for the next little while, her explaining to me in very broad strokes what would be involved, what would be entailed and what things would be like for me and what I could expect... and I swear I was kneeling on the floor in a puddle of my own juices by the time she finally stood up.

"I will take a shower now," she said, "use this time to consider your choices carefully. If I find you here when I return, it will be because you want to and I will assume that you have accepted my propositions and treat you accordingly. Have another cup of tea and think it over. To help you with your decision, I will remind you that I haven't forgotten your impudence earlier, and I don't intend to forgive it."

She paused before stepping out of the kitchen, "Do you know how to stand at attention?" she asked, and I nodded accordingly. "Good," she replied, then disappeared into the bathroom, and I poured myself another cup of tea with a shaky hand.

This scene had, quite honestly, filled my dreams for years, but now that it was upon me, I didn't know if I had the courage to seize the moment. Her promise that I could leave at any time heartened me. Had I been fooling myself for all these years with empty fantasies? Would I fail her in the end? I knew that I would never be free of my desires unless I played out this hand.

Chapter 2: The Initiation

When she returned some time later, my empty cup was back on the table and I was there standing at attention, my hands behind my head, knees wide, chin up, back arced, ass out, letting my body language announce my decision. I had read enough to know that she hadn't been talking about standing at military attention earlier.

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