Demanding Domme, High fem, lesbian, but open to devotion from true sissies embracing maximal feminization. I make a point to strip my subs of all modesty and inhibition, and take pride in turning even the shyest girls into enthusiastic -- or at the very least obedient -- exhibitionists. As a strict disciplinarian as well as a sensuously sadistic tickler, l am as likely to punish disobedience with feathers and fingernails as with paddles and whips. I enjoy training eager young girls (and aspiring girls) who are seeking to experience limit-testing domination and mind-flaying submission
The moment came much sooner than you had expected… the moment that your first college girlfriend – No! your MISTRESS, you reminded yourself, wincing at the memory of that terrible spanking – your new Mistress had warned you would be coming… the moment when she said would test whether you truly deserve to be with her… the moment when you would have to prove your absolute submission once and for all.
After a whirlwind seduction into lesbian submission, and weeks of bondage and spankings and excruciating teasing… after she had her domme friends over when you were tied down to her bed and invited them to play with you like a sextoy… after making you confess in front of them that you were a wanton lesbian slut who would do anything for your irresistible Mistress…
As if all that was somehow easy, she said that tonight would be the real test… Tonight, she was having a party, inviting not just her close circle of domme friends, but all the out lesbians on the entire all-girl campus, and everybody from all of your freshman classes…
They would arrive to find you naked, blindfolded, and bound to the ceiling, open to be fingered and fondled and kissed all night by anybody who felt a desire to enjoy you. And you knew that if you hoped to prove yourself to your Mistress, you could not just be passive -- you would have to constantly thank the crowd for their anonymous attentions all night long, moaning with pleasure and squealing with delight, and confessing to anyone who asks that, yes, you’re a horny lesbian sextoy who loves to be dominated and used.
But as terrifying as the prospect of the night’s humiliations were, your Mistress had told you that the real test, the real humiliation – what you had to think about all evening long – would not be at the party, but the day after, and the day after that, and every day afterwards throughout your next four years on this small, intimate campus.
You would spend the whole evening being fondled, teased and used by dozens and dozens of girls whose faces you would never see and whose names you would never know. But they would all see you at your most abject and exposed – naked, bound and blindfolded, confessing your most humiliating desires as a formerly “straight” lesbian sextoy. And they would see you the next day, and the day after that, and every day thereafter, and know you as they first met you – as a naked, horny lesbian slut.
But you won’t know them… they may be strangers, they may be friends… but you knew that from that day forward, when a girl looks at you with a wickedly knowing smile, or acts way more familiar or dominant than you would expect… you would never know whether they had already had their fingers deep inside you on this humiliating night, or if they had spanked your bare ass until you promised to always be a good little slut for them, or if they were one of the girls who had gotten you to beg them to someday corner you in the library and strip you naked and fingerbang you against a bookshelf…
That was what this party – this testing moment – was all about… whether you would invite that fate for the next four years, just to earn your place kneeling at your Mistress’s feet for as long as she will have you… whether the guarantee of four years of abject humiliation was worth a chance at a few more weeks of the excruciating pleasure offered by your cruel and demanding Mistress…
And against all of your instincts, and your last shred of dignity, you waited patiently for the guests to arrive – resigned to, if not entirely content with, your fateful decision…
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The moment came much sooner than you had expected… the moment that your first college girlfriend – No! your MISTRESS, you reminded yourself, wincing at the memory of that terrible spanking – your new Mistress had warned you would be coming… the moment when she said would test whether you truly deserve to be with her… the moment when you would have to prove your absolute submission once and for all.
After a whirlwind seduction into lesbian submission, and weeks of bondage and spankings and excruciating teasing… after she had her domme friends over when you were tied down to her bed and invited them to play with you like a sextoy… after making you confess in front of them that you were a wanton lesbian slut who would do anything for your irresistible Mistress…
As if all that was somehow easy, she said that tonight would be the real test… Tonight, she was having a party, inviting not just her close circle of domme friends, but all the out lesbians on the entire all-girl campus, and everybody from all of your freshman classes…
They would arrive to find you naked, blindfolded, and bound to the ceiling, open to be fingered and fondled and kissed all night by anybody who felt a desire to enjoy you. And you knew that if you hoped to prove yourself to your Mistress, you could not just be passive -- you would have to constantly thank the crowd for their anonymous attentions all night long, moaning with pleasure and squealing with delight, and confessing to anyone who asks that, yes, you’re a horny lesbian sextoy who loves to be dominated and used.
But as terrifying as the prospect of the night’s humiliations were, your Mistress had told you that the real test, the real humiliation – what you had to think about all evening long – would not be at the party, but the day after, and the day after that, and every day afterwards throughout your next four years on this small, intimate campus.
You would spend the whole evening being fondled, teased and used by dozens and dozens of girls whose faces you would never see and whose names you would never know. But they would all see you at your most abject and exposed – naked, bound and blindfolded, confessing your most humiliating desires as a formerly “straight” lesbian sextoy. And they would see you the next day, and the day after that, and every day thereafter, and know you as they first met you – as a naked, horny lesbian slut.
But you won’t know them… they may be strangers, they may be friends… but you knew that from that day forward, when a girl looks at you with a wickedly knowing smile, or acts way more familiar or dominant than you would expect… you would never know whether they had already had their fingers deep inside you on this humiliating night, or if they had spanked your bare ass until you promised to always be a good little slut for them, or if they were one of the girls who had gotten you to beg them to someday corner you in the library and strip you naked and fingerbang you against a bookshelf…
That was what this party – this testing moment – was all about… whether you would invite that fate for the next four years, just to earn your place kneeling at your Mistress’s feet for as long as she will have you… whether the guarantee of four years of abject humiliation was worth a chance at a few more weeks of the excruciating pleasure offered by your cruel and demanding Mistress…
And against all of your instincts, and your last shred of dignity, you waited patiently for the guests to arrive – resigned to, if not entirely content with, your fateful decision…