Reading Time: 3 minutes

Sharon J. Part 3, by Sharon

Leeta the slavegirl, formerly known as Sharon, lay on the basement floor wearing only a cream-colored babydoll.  Her only restraints were the steel handcuffs.  Her Master smiled broadly as he spoke.

“You know, Leeta, you’re such a wonderful little slavegirl I’ve done you an injustice keeping you all to myself.  But,” he said as stroked her cheek, “I could never bear to share you with another man.  Good news, though!  We have a visitor.”

Down the basement stairs walked a woman, at least six feet tall in her high-heeled leather boots.  She was thin but well-bosomed.  Her hair was black, in a long braid.  Her entire outfit was black leather.  She carried a whip and a small black box.  She walked in an arrogant manner.

Leeta’s Master ran to her and kissed her cheek, “Domina, it’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, too, old friend,” her voice was low but not husky, “This must be the little slavegirl Leeta I’ve heard so much about.  Is she well-trained?”

“See for yourself,” the Master smiled.

Domina forced Leeta to give her “ponyrides” around the basement, Domina riding Leeta, whipping her buttocks gently from time to time.

“Faster, faster,” Domina cried loudly.  Finally she grabbed Leeta’s right thigh with her right hand and brought Leeta down to the concrete basement floor headfirst.

“That wasn’t very fast at all,” Domina spoke in a singsong manner, “You’re not a very good slavegirl after all and will have to be punished for not listening.”  Domina whipped off her black leather panties and forced
Leeta to perform oral sex on her for several minutes.  Leeta’s tongue would no longer stretch from her mouth after a while.  Domina grabbed Leeta’s forearms in her hands.  She pulled Leeta off of her, then rammed her knee into Leeta’s stomach.

“That was disappointing, too, honey,” Domina shook her head, “and I had heard such wonderful things about you.  You’re a pretty little chippie, though.  Tell you what, you can make it up to me,”  Domina discarded her
black leather bra, “kiss and lick my breasts.”

Leeta did so obediently, becoming more passionate about it at Domina’s urging.  After several minutes Domina sat Leeta against a wall, in a spot in which the Master had placed a couple towels.

“You are a good little slavegirl after all!” Domina sounded pleased, “We have a special treat for you.”

As the Master handcuffed Leeta’s hands behind her with a second set of cuffs, Domina put her outfit back on and opened the black box.  Crawling out of the box and into Domina’s hand was a tarantula.  Leeta gasped.
Her Master knew she had a special fear of spiders.  As Domina walked toward her Leeta wet herself.  She couldn’t stop.  Part of the towels became drenched with urine.  Leeta kept opening and closing her mouth
but couldn’t speak.  She closed her eyes but reopened them when Domina pulled her long auburn hair.  In her black-leather-gloved hand only a few inches from Leeta’s face Domina held the tarantula.

“Should we let it bite her?”  Domina asked Leeta’s Master.

He stroked his chin, looking thoughtful.  After thirty seconds he answered, “No, we better not, she might get some disease.”  The two of them laughed uproariously as Domina put the spider back into the box.

Leeta felt lightheaded and dizzy, like she would faint.  The room was spinning.  Taking the handcuffs off her ankles, her Master forced Leeta in and out of the shower.  Just before her forced her out he set the water hot enough to burn her a little.  She screamed.  He grabbed her by the hair and forced her to kneel in a corner of the basement, dripping wet.  With dry towels slowly and forcefully Domina dried off Leeta, who was sobbing and shivering.

While the Master and Domina talked, the Master forced Leeta to write 500 times on notebook paper, “I peed on the floor like a bad little girl.” He told her that if he thought the handwriting were too poor on any line he would force her to do it over again.  When Leeta finished she put down the paper and slumped against the basement wall.  Domina and her Master kissed on the lips, a long and luxurious kiss.

“Time to go, old friend,” Domina finally said.

“Would you like to visit Leeta again?” the Master smiled.

“She was a disappointment in some ways,” Domina answered smirking, looking straight at Leeta, “but watching her sob and shiver made up for it.  How about it, hon, would you like me to visit again?”

Leeta swallowed and answered softly, “Whatever is the Master’s will.”

Domina walked up the steps, carrying her whip and the black box with the tarantula.

As Domina closed the basement door the Master asked Leeta, “Did you enjoy your evening?”

“Please no more spiders, Master,” Leeta whimpered, “I’ll say anything you want, do anything you want, be anything you want.  Please no more spiders.”

“Are you making a request or humbly, helplessly begging?” the Master whispered.

“I beg of you, Milord,” Leeta whispered as the Master stroked her hair.

“Then I’ll consider it,” he replied, kissing her cheeks forcefully and repeatedly.