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TESTED BY LOThAR
Chapter 3
TESTINGS
By. Charles E. Campbell
(I had originally stated at the outset of this story that my intentions were to start slow, and gradually build this tale up, culminating it with three chapters. I have gotten too engrossed in it, and see that it is, in fact, impossible to do Sandy and justice if I limit it to three chapters. So I will take a bit more time with it, and strive to complete it in four, or possibly five chapters.)
It was the summer after my junior year of high school, seventeen, and now a full blown slut whore. Princess Rosa had honored my sole condition of remaining a vaginal virgin, but she had taken every liberty with what wasn’t covered by that insignificant restriction. ( And believe me, that left a lot of territory for her to cover! ). Arguing that a true whore must be well versed in oral techniques and skills, she had taught me how to satisfy a woman with my mouth. I learned how to make a woman cum in less than a minute, and I learned how to prolong the pleasures almost indefinitely. Satisfaction of the recipient being my only concern. Furthermore, where Princess Rosa took tremendous pride in her appearance and hygiene, ( her pussy could only be described as fragrant), Carmelita had no sense of personal cleanliness at all. Her pussy was foul and sour smelling, and the folds of her pussy harbored lingering stale urine. ( My tinglings, however, made these adverse conditions all the more appealing to me, as I was debased further by the oral worship I gave her ).She trained me as a piss whore as well, learning not only to swallow every drop of the sacred golden elixir, but to savor the taste and smell, ( and the stronger and more concentrated, the better. The key word here was golden, not watered down yellow, like what is found on most websites ). She taught me to except all manner of foreign objects in my ass: candles, ( lit of course ) , pencils, glass bottles, apples, oranges, and even grapefruits. I was taught that a good slut is a clean slut, so I regularly used enemas to keep myself clean.
Princess Rosa had also insisted that I install a webcam in my room, which was to be on and broadcasting whenever I was in there. My naked image streaming live, world-wide for any and all to see. The only time it was not to be on was when Carmelita was in the room with me. But it didn’t really matter very much, as I had purchased a camera so she could film anything and everything that went on in the bedroom and the garage.
It was Carmelita who had stumbled upon the website. I was on my knees between her fat legs ministering to her hair covered pussy, so I didn’t see it until she after she had explored the entire site.
“Here’s a different one, puta,” she announced. “Make me cum and then you may see it with me.”
I started sucking and nibbling harder, and brought her off in under fifteen seconds. I remained as I was, however, and cleaned her of her fluids. I continued doing that until she said, “You may stop, slut.” ( Rosa’s training of me required that I never stop doing anything until I was instructed to do so by a superior, which was everyone and anyone really ).
I stood up, my face still quite wet with Carmelita’s juices, and glancing at the computer monitor I saw an elaborate opening page for a website called “SLAVES OF THE REALM.” It had been printed in huge gothic letters with a myriad of whips, shackles, handcuffs, and kneeling naked woman scattered around the screen. I knelt next to the chair Carmelita was seated in, (Princess Rosa had trained me to accept that being on my knees was where I belonged). Carmelita entered the site and we were confronted with a wide range of options: Videos for purchase, with free trailers to wet your curiosity , links to other sites, contact information, bios on the individual “Slaves of the Realm,” educational information on such things as different methods of bondage, rope vs steel, lifestyle slavery as compared to people who dabble in D/s, techniques for the proper use of the single tail whip, and so forth.
We first looked at the trailers, initially thinking they would be the typical staged California fake videos. We were both proven wrong, however, as the very first trailer we viewed showed a naked female slave hanging upside down from a spreader bar, her ankles held wide apart, as another naked female was whipping her pussy with a cat. The lacerations on the insides of her thighs, her belly, mound and labia were real. The blood was real. Her screaming protests and pleading were real. We both watched, mesmerized, silent, throughout the duration of the five minute trailer.
“You liked that, puta?” she asked me.
“Yes, Ma’am. It was amazing.”
“I knew you liked it, slut, do you know how I knew?”
“No. Ma’am.”
“I can smell your feelthy cunt when you get excited like this. Do you need to cum, puta bitch?”
“Yes, please, Ma’am. May I?”
“Not yet. I think you need to be punished for making me have to smell your feelthy tramp hole, bitch. Get the traps and bring them to me.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” I replied as I crawled on all fours to a container I keep stashed under my bed. Inside are two rat traps, the spring loaded type. Placing them between my teeth, I crawled back to Carmelita and knelt facing her, the traps still in my mouth. She took one and held it open, waiting for me to present my breast to it. She let the trap snap shut, causing me to grunt and flinch in pain. She did the same to my other breast and then allowed me to cum for her.
Over the next few days I became consumed by the site, visiting it exclusively, repeatedly watching the trailers, even ordering some of the videos until, at long last, I finally worked up the nerve to actually contact them.
“Dear Sir, or Madam,” my email began, “I have visited your website countless times, exploring it throughly, and have found it to be the most authentic and realistic one that I have ever encountered. I am a life style submissive with an urgent need to give myself over freely and completely to the desires, whims, and needs of another. I beg you to please help me reach my goal. Sincerely, Slave Sandy”
I re-read the message only once to proofread it, then clicking the send button before I could chicken out.
I checked my email inbox several times a day with the same anticipation a young child awaits his or her birthday, or Santa Claus’ annual arrival. Each day, my heart and spirits sank, as there was no reply. One day became two, two became four, four became a week....I confided what I had done with Carmelita, showing her the message I had sent.
“It’s probably just a corporation for the movies, something from one of those eastern European countries,” she rationalized. “They just made it all up to look like it’s about real people.”
She tried to comfort me, but I was really down about it. I had such high hopes. My fantasies and tinglings had been in overdrive ever since we first started visiting the site.
Then, almost one full month later, to the day, alone in my bedroom, I opened my email and found a message:
“I find it highly repugnant and presumptuous that you would assume the title of “slave.” Who is it that gave you that status, for it is not something to be assumed or given, or taken, lightly. Do you have any idea at all about what you are asking? I cannot stress this enough, THIS IS NOT A GAME! In The Realm there are no posers, no actors. There is no fakery, no tricks. What you see is what we are, for real!
“ I have enclosed, as a PDF, a form for you. Read it, throughly. If you choose to respond, then you are to fill it out completely, honestly, succinctly. No questions may be left unanswered. Blank spaces demand instant termination. Any lies, falsehoods, half-truths, embellishments also bring termination, and loss of further contact privileges. If I do not receive the completed form within 48 hours from the time on this email, any reply will then be deleted, and no further contact will be permitted.
LOThAR”
I read and re-read the message many times, my tinglings out of control. It was then that I glanced at the time the email was sent, and realized that almost twenty-four hours had already passed since it was sent. It looked at my clock and saw it was already 1:15AM. I opened the PDF file to look at the form.
It wasn’t lengthy, a bit over two pages is all. The first page was generic information, typical stuff for job applications and the like, easy and fast: Name, Gender, Age, D.O.B., Country, (and state if US), Height, Weight, Hair Color and Length, Eye Color, Distinguishing Marks, (scars, moles, tattoos, piercings, brands), Education, General Health,......
The second page, however, was far more involved and personal, and rapidly escalating and probing questions: Is your pubis bald, shaped, or hairy, What size are your breasts, waist, hips, What sexual experiences have you had; Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, any bi-sexual experiences, Inter-racial experiences, Lesbian experiences, How often do you play with yourself, Have you ever had sex in public, Have you ever exposed yourself in public, Have you ever been exhibited in front of others, Have you ever been whipped, if so with what, Have you ever whipped another person, if so with what, Have you experienced bondage, if so, was it forced or willing, Do you now, or have you ever produced milk, Have you had or given a golden shower, red shower, brown shower.......
The last part of the form stated, “You will submit five photographs with this application form. The first is to be a shot of your face alone. The second is to be a full frontal nude of you. The third full nude from the rear, and the fourth is to be a close-up of your sex, with your legs spread wide. The final picture is to be of your choosing.”
And that was it. No explanations about content of the final picture, no hints or suggestions, nothing. This would take some time, and I didn’t have much of that left. It was almost 2:30 by the time I had the form all filled out, and I was tired, and spent, (the tinglings had made me play with myself the entire time I did the form, and i came five times!). I sent a quick text to Carmelita saying I needed her to get back to me ASAP as I needed her help right away. Then, I went to bed, although, exhausted as I was, sleep didn’t come for some time.
I awoke at 8:30, it was a Sunday, and found a text from Carmelita saying she was off to church and would be home by 12:00. I sent one back to her asking her to call me when she got home. Then I hit the shower and shaved myself throughly, wanting everything just right for the pictures Carmelita would be taking of me.
Luck was with me, as Grandma Jo told me she wanted to go visit with a friend of hers that afternoon in another town, so having the time to set up and pose for the required photos would be easier. Carmelita arrived at 12:30 to fine me naked and waiting for her in the garage workshop. I explained to her what I needed and why. She was genuinely excited for me.
We began with her taking a few shots of just my face, get the easy one out of the way first, I figured. Next up, I handed her a flogger and stood before her, legs spread, arms behind my head, and asked her to color me, front and back chest to thighs. Time was of the essence, so she didn’t hold back, and there were no light warm up strokes either. Strong, hard, full arm swing lashes rained across my body. I focused on the upcoming pictures, on The Realm, and on my overpowering tinglings.
Five minutes later she stopped. I was throughly striped, pink and red welts crisscrossed my white skin. Holding that same position, Carmelita took several shots of me front and back.
That part accomplished, I climbed up on the work bench and laid down on my back, spreading my legs wide, and pulling my pussy open with my fingers. Carmelita got the camera in nice and tight for the required close-ups.
The freestyle pic was all that remained to be done, but this one, I knew, would take a bit of time for us to stage. Carmelita tied my hands behind me after I mounted my wooden pony and got my pussy lips settled on either side of the sandpaper. ( I had stapled a new sheet of very coarse paper to the crossbeam, and had made sure it was large enough to be seen in the picture). My new ring gag and head harness was next. Fashioned from thick black cowhide, and chrome plated buckles, once it was strapped in place, there was no escape from it. The rubber coated ring was very large, and brought cramps to my jaw mere minutes after it was set in place, stretching my mouth open as wide as it could possibly open.
She placed the sharp teeth alligator clips on my nipples, and hung a sixteen ounce fishing weight from each one. Then tugging on one of my labia, pulling it down along the sandpaper, she took a heavy carpenter’s hammer and drove a sixteen penny nail into the tender flesh, nailing my nether lip to the sandpaper and wooden pony. She repeated the procedure with the other lip as well. (I came twice, each time the nail was driven through the skin. I was rubbing my clit on the sandpaper all the time she was nailing me to the pony).
All that remained before taking the pictures was for Carmelita to tie a rope to my wrists and pull my arms up high from one of the rafters, forcing me to lean forward, and placing more of my weight on my sex. The tinglings were overpowering and I came again. She took the camera and shot several pictures, trying to time it so she captured me drooling through the ring gag.
Carmelita helped me out of my bondage and off the horse, and we quickly made a beeline to my room, where we selected the five photos we thought were best, downloaded them into the computer, and sent the pictures and my application off, with a bit over thirty minutes to spare before the deadline expired. I spent the next twenty minutes orally satisfying Carmelita by way of thanking her for all her help that day.
To say I started checking my email many times a day would be an understatement, but just like my first contact with The Realm, this one went unanswered for a few weeks, three to be exact. I was nervous, disappointed, worried, and an amalgam of other things. My visits to bdsm webpages wouldn’t bring on my tinglings. My sessions with Carmelita only produced weak tinglings.
Then, as I said, three weeks later to the day, I received an email. With great trepidation I opened it. It was short and concise. “You have been accepted as an apprentice slave, a slut in training, (sLit), to The Realm. In order to maintain your status as an apprentice you are to do the following things: #1. Cease wearing any underwear of any kind, panties, bras, camisoles, etc. You must always be naked underneath your outer garments to help make you focus on your constant availability as a sex slave. #2. You are to continue keeping your body free of hair, everywhere but under your arms. You are to allow that to grow in completely. #3. You will maintain your status as a vaginal virgin, your cunt is off limits to all, but your mouth and asshole are to be utilized and trained. #4. You will maintain an accurate journal of your daily activities, including when, where, and how often you masturbate, when you have your period, when and what websites you visit and for how long, and what slave activities you have, including with whom. (Which brings this question, how did you get your pictures taken? Was someone there helping you? If so, was the person male or female?). This journal will be submitted to me weekly, by 10:30PM every Thursday. #5. You will provide me with your cell phone number so I may contact you whenever I feel the need. #6. Whenever you dress, or change your clothing, you must be naked. If you go to the gym, you will strip completely before getting into workout clothes, etc. #8. You must visit My website twice daily, logging in with the user name “sLit 14", password 1414 #6. In all correspondences with Me, you will refer to yourself only as sLit 14, which indicates that you are a “slut to LOThAr in training”, nothing more.
“There will be numerous tests you will have to endure, and pass, as you serve your time in apprenticeship. Failure to perform a test, or failure to pass a test will result in immediate and irrevocable expulsion from the apprenticeship. Some tests will be filmed and submitted to Me. Others you will be watched, unbeknownst to you, while you perform them. The length of time you will serve in this capacity is not for you to know. Your sole purpose is to serve, to give yourself over to me, unquestioning, accepting, trusting. LOThAR”
I read the message again, my hand pinching and squeezing my clit, cumming over and over again. Quickly, I pulled up THE SLAVES OF THE REALM website and logged on as instructed. I was instantly taken to a page I had never before seen, (and I had explored everything the site had to offer many, many times before, or so I thought). I immediately found a banner for correspondence, and clicked on that first, wanting to answer the questions posed to me before doing anything else. I wrote that the pictures I had sent were taken by a friend of mine, a female, and that she does a lot of Bdsm and D/s activities with me. I included my cell phone number and I added how grateful I was to be accepted as an apprentice and that I would strive with all my body and soul to prove myself worthy.
A few days later I received a text message on my cell phone: “ sLit 14, i am sLave 6. The responsibility of the initial stages of your apprenticeship has been passed to me. As soon as you receive this message, take a picture of your underarm and send it to me.”
I was in the grocery store with Grandma Jo when the message arrived, so making the excuse that i needed to use the women’s room, I beat a quick path to the filthy lone stall generic male/female toilet, pulled my t-shirt over my head, lifted my left arm and shot a picture of the stubble that was itching me so much. I sent it off right away, got dressed, and rejoined Grandma Jo, the tinglings causing my juices to flow down the insides of my legs, since there were no cotton panties to help stem the flood.
That evening, after logging onto the site, there was a message for me from sLave 6 which read: “After reading through your application form, it has been noted that your experiences in ministrations to men are not only poor, they are non-existent, ( I was to find out later that this gap in my background almost cost me my apprenticeship initially), therefore, you are to find a male who you will be training through, preferably near your own age, as our archaic laws regarding the age of consent could be troublesome. You will suck his cock while your friend films it. Send the film to me. You have one week to do this. sLave 6"
I told Carmelita about the orders I had received, and she said she would find someone. Two days later, on the bus from school, she said, “I have the perfect boy for you, puta.”
“Who is it,” I asked her?
“His name is Terrell, he’s in a couple of my classes. He’s seventeen, like us, but he’s been lef’ back a coupla years, so he’s only a freshman. You wan’ to meet heem?”
“Yes, please.”
I’ll take care of it for you, puta.”
The next day, I was sitting in the cafeteria at lunch, alone as usual, (Carmelita and I had different lunch periods), when I got a text: “Where are you sLit 14? sLave 6"
Keeping my cell phone under the table, as their usage was forbidden during school hours, I texted back where I was.
A quick reply read, “Go to the girls room. Enter a stall, and wait.”
I told the lunch monitor I needed to go to the girls room and took off to lock myself in a stall.
I wasn’t in the stall three minutes when the next message came: “You are to approach whoever comes into the girls room next, and ask them to take a picture of you with your cell phone. Use any excuse you wish. You are to be naked in the picture, hands behind your head. Send it to me at once.”
The tinglings came on in an instant as the implications of the directive hit me. I was just about to touch myself when I heard voices, and the door to the girls room burst open. There were three voices, young sounding, probably Freshmen, all taking in an animated fast pace. I opened the stall, startling them, and said, “I wonder if you guys could help me out. Do you know how to take a picture with a cell phone?”
They all said they did.
“My boy friend is in the Army, and he’s stationed in Oklahoma,” I lied quickly, “And he’s really lonely. I want to send him a picture of me. Could one of you take one for me?”
“I’ll do it,” the cutest one with short cropped hair answered, extending her hand to take my phone.
“Great, thanks,” I said, as I pulled my t shirt over my head, exposing my bra-less chest. As they stood, mouths agape, I unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down to my ankles and stepped out of them.
No one moved, until I added, “I told you he was really lonely, didn’t I? He needs something to remember me by!”
One of the girls giggled nervously, and the others acted like they understood. The girl with the camera snapped three quick shots, and I quickly got dressed, saying, “Pick one of the pictures, and send it to this number.” I recited sLave 6's number to her. My task done, I thanked them, took my phone and headed back to the cafeteria.
That afternoon on the bus, Carmelita informed me that she had arranged for me to meet Terrell the next morning before school, outside the front entrance. She said he’d approach me, because she had already shown him a few pictures of me, (thinking of which ones they could be started up the tinglings).
That night I logged onto the website, and found a message for me from sLave 6, it read: “You failed to follow my directions. The picture was to have your hands behind your head. This infraction earns your five demerits. When you reach twenty, you will receive an appropriate punishment. Do not forget to include everything that happened today in your journal. sLave 6"
The next morning when Carmelita and I got off the bus, we walked to the main entrance, where we saw a group of five or six black kids, both boys and girls, milling about. I felt cramps build in my stomach when I realized that Terrell was undoubtedly in the group. As we approached the kids, Carmelita called out, “Hey Terrell, this is her.”
All the heads turned in our direction, and a tall thin boy with earrings in both ears stepped in front of the others, eyeing me and sizing me up. I stopped walking a few steps in front of him, and all his friends circled around me, (Carmelita, it seemed had disappeared completely).
“You be the bitch dat wants ta suck my cock,” Terrell asked me, half asking, half grandstanding for his friends.
I felt my face flush, as they all waited for my response. I averted my eyes, looking at the ground, as tears began to trickle down my cheeks. I had never in my life felt so embarrassed, so completely humiliated, (little did I know then what the future held for me in that regard!). But the tinglings washed through me and I was on the brink of cumming. Summoning all my inner strength, I stammered, “Y......es,” and I came. I actually came from saying it. It was like some kind of cathartic release from some Victorian bonds that had held me back. I looked up straight into Terrell’s eyes. “Yes,” I repeated, louder, with conviction, “ I need to suck your cock, if you will let me.”
There were three boys in their group and they all started laughing hysterically, while the two girls who were there looked at me in disgust and said, “You want a piece of this skinny assed white bitch Terrell? What’s she got that my booty ain’t got, uh, Niggah?”
“I ain’t never had no white meat before, Shakira, and ‘sides, she goin’ ta pay me twenty dollahs if’s I let her suck me off, ain’t that right ‘ho?”
“Yes,” I said, unaware that Carmelita had told him I would pay to suck his cock.
“Awright then, Terrell,” the girl acquiesced, “but I wanna be there watching this bitch do you.”
“No problem, ‘Kira,” he agreed, happy to be able to show off. All the boys had stopped laughing by now, duly impressed that a white girl was going to pay their friend to give him head.
“When you wanna do it, ‘ho,” he asked me?
“Saturday?”
He nodded and said, “You meets me in town by the video store. Y’all knows where that is, bitch?”
“Yes,” I said. “I know where that is. What time?”
“ ‘Levin. ‘Levin,” Then he laughed and added, “You be drinkin’ up some early lunch, ho. I hope you bein’ hungry!”
His group erupted in laughter at his joke, and they dispersed, with comments about what a whore I was, and how he was going to make me choke.
Carmelita reappeared, (she had been there the whole time, standing behind me where I couldn’t see her). “I’ll film it for you, puta,” she offered
Between that morning and Saturday morning, I watched a lot of porn about blow jobs, gagging, facials, deep throat, cum swallowing, and any others that would help me to understand what I had to do. It didn’t impress me really. None of it looked particularly difficult. It certainly had to be much easier than riding my wooden pony for an hour, or taking fifty lashes with a cat across my breasts.
Saturday morning came. I dressed in a short tight t chest, showing my flat belly and my lack of a bra, with a pair of skin tight blue jeans and met Carmelita at 10:30 at her house, where I called a taxi to come pick us up and take us into town. We were in front of the video store at five of eleven, but there was no sign of Terrell. We looked up and down the street, but he was nowhere to be seen. By 11:15 I was about to give up, when Carmelita spotted him sauntering our way with Shakira in tow.
“Is my little ‘ho ready for a good throat fuckin’,” he joked as he got closer?
A passerby overheard him and glared at us, clearly miffed at his language.
“Yes,” I said proudly. “Where are we going to go?”
“Yo, yo, bitch. Cool out a bit. I know you wants this big black dick ‘n all, but y’all kin wait a little bit longer for it. It’s gonna be worf it. Y’all gots my twenty dollahs, ‘ho?”
I reached into the pocket of my jeans and pulled out a folded twenty dollar bill, which I handed to Terrell.
He looked at it, and said, “Let’s get down with it, bitch. Follow me.”
He shoved the twenty into his pocket, draped his arm across Shakira’s and started walking down the street. Carmelita and I trailing a few steps behind him. We rounded a corner and passed a few more store fronts before Terrell’s head spun around, looking to see who was watching. Then he abruptly ducked into a narrow alley way next to a restaurant. We followed him down the alley to the back of the restaurant, he turned right and walked between two beat up foul smelling dumpsters which couldn’t be seen from the street.
“In here, bitch, “ he called to me.
I slid in past him so my back was against a concrete wall. There wasn’t a lot of space between the two steel dumpsters, but there was just about enough for the four of us to all see what was about to happen.
I knelt down as Terrell dropped his baggy pants, he wore an oversized pair of boxers underneath, and Carmelita began filming.
His dick was like nothing I could have imagined. I had, of course, seen my brothers’ penises years ago, but this one was much, much longer, at least five inches long as it hung limp and lifeless from the matted black curls at it’s base. And it was a dark chocolate brown too, with a huge dark purple head. Grabbing it between my thumb and first two fingers, I picked it up and brought it to my mouth.
In my mouth it felt like nothing I had ever felt before. Strange combinations of velvety soft and smooth and tender skin, lined with thick ropes of rippled veins greeted my lips and tongue. (I don’t remember a lot of the details of my first encounter in oral worship, LOThAR’s term for giving head, but I do remember how the term “slippery as an eel” came into mind as the soft flesh slid around inside my mouth and how I concentrated on licking on the soft pliable cock as best as I could).
I licked and sucked and swirled my tongue all around it, but it seemed to have a life all of it’s own as it popped out of my mouth several times before I finally grabbed it near the base and kept it in my mouth. I was amazed at how it began to awaken, as if from a deep sleep. It came to life in my mouth, growing in length and girth as it became harder and harder, like it was trying to bury itself in the deepest recesses of my throat.
Terrell placed his hands on the back of my head and pulled my face into his pubic hair, causing his cock to push well past my gag reflex. I jerked my head back, retching, and bumped my head hard against the concrete wall. I threw up on my t shirt. Shakira laughed, “Fuckin’ ‘ho can’t even swallow dick, ‘Rell, wan’ me to show her how?”
“Nah,” he said, “She’s just gots ta get used to real dick.” He drove his cock down my throat again, and I cracked my head against the wall once more trying to pull back out of sheer reflex. He didn’t back off. Instead he kept my head pinned against the rough concrete and fucked my face like I had seen done in porn videos. I retched over and over again as his cock sought out the back of my throat. Until finally, he came, filling my mouth with the warm salty male cocktail for the first time. I coughed and tried to spit out the terrible tasting sperm as he kept twitching, pulsing and shooting in my mouth, but with my head against the wall and his crotch in my face, I had no escape. I ending up swallowing the cum and the bile I had puked up. He didn’t pull his dick from my mouth until he was finished.
As he zipped up his pants, Terrell said, “Now you all kin say you had dark meat, ‘ho. Once you had black, ya never go back.” With that, Terrell stuck his hand down the back of Shakira’s shorts and they strode away, up the alley.
Carmelita sent the video to sLave 6 for me, but I didn’t get any response from her about it. In fact, I didn’t hear anything else, that is, until the end of the month, when I logged on, and I found a notice directing me to open my “Monthly sLit Performance Review.”
The review was generally positive, stating how I had followed all my directions on time and fully, (with the exception of the five demeirts I had enured). It further stated that I would be kept on for the second month. Then, under areas needing improvement it said, “sLit 14 requires much training in Male worship. Her skills are minimal to non-existent, her technique is poor, and her overall performance is lackluster. Great attention needs to be paid in this area, or her status as a sLit will have to be terminated.” LOThAR
I got a text message as I was preparing to go to bed, it was from sLave 6. “Have you read your monthly review, sLit 14?”
“Yes,” I texted back.
“We have much work, and little time. I will post the accepted Male worship info for you. When you log in, read it, commit it to memory. Text me back when you have done this.”
“Ok.”
The next evening, when I logged on, there was a tutorial on Male worship. I read it over three times. There were five basic requirements for Male worship, as stipulated by LOThAR, and they were: #1. A sLave must always be naked in the presence of a Penis. It is your Lord and Master. #2. You are never allowed to touch a Penis with your hands unless otherwise directed to. #3 Your eyes should be open and fixated on the face of the Male as you worship, as this allows you to concentrate on His pleasure solely. #4. You are never to pull away from a Penis for any reason, unless you are directed to do so. #5.You must always swallow the seed you are given. It is sacred, and you should experience pride at being a receptacle for it. (No wonder I was in trouble. I hadn’t obeyed any of those rules!).
I sent off a text to sLave 6 and re-read the tutorial two more times.
The next directive I received from her stated that I was to make arrangements to suck Terrell again, while being filmed of course, so I could prove that I had read the tutorial and was following it’s directions.. Carmelita arranged it for me, and the next Saturday Carmelita and I met Terrell behind the restaurant again, only this time he didn’t bring Shakira with him. Instead, he brought four of his friends with him, charging each one of them $10 for a blow job from me! Now I truly was a whore! Pimped out for the financial gains of Terrell! Kneeling naked between two reeking, fetid, rotten garbage filled dumpsters, flies buzzing all around me, I sucked off all five of them, swallowing all the cum they had, even trying to suck more out as theirs cocks went soft. Over the next few months, he was bringing in between $50 and $70 per week through me, including the $20 I still had to pay him for arranging it. But my monthly reviews continued to improve as well, until my status was ungraded from probationary sLit ( a slut in training to LOThAR) to sLit, (a sLave in training to LOThAR). Termination was now less of a possibility for me, and I was elated.
A few weeks later I got a text from sLave 6 which read: “You are to select a public place, the mall, a park, a street, etc., where you will walk naked, head to toe, for a duration of at least ten minutes. You will be alone, you are to tell no one, and bring no one with you when you do this. When you have selected the location, text me and give me the date you will do this test, (give me a week’s notice), as I will be there watching you accomplish this task. sLave 6. PS, I am very pleased with the progress you have made with Male worship!”
The tinglings began in earnest. Naked in public! sLave 6 watching me! Where could I do this? What would happen if I was arrested? What if someone saw me and told Grandma Jo? My mind was in a jumble as these questions swirled in my head, while at the same time, my finger was rubbing my clit frantically and bringing myself off with one cum after another.
The first thing I did was to go on line and look up sites dealing with flashing, public nudity, exhibitionism, and the like, figuring this might give me some help in choosing a place to complete this test. I found stills and videos of people in the woods, in malls, on public streets, in large stores, parks, near railroad tracks, on overpasses above highways, in short, everywhere. The one common denominator was that they were surrounded by a virtual phalanx of still photographers, videographers, and people who helped get them in and out of their clothes and away from the area quickly when they were done. This would be of no use to me, as sLave 6's directive said I was to do this alone. My biggest fear was being arrested, and what that would mean for Grandma Jo. Lots of those locations had either security and or a police presence.
A few nights later, lying in bed, I remembered reading about a bicycle/walking path that had been constructed not too far away from me in eastern New York State along a long abandoned railroad right of way that had never been used. Stretching over twenty miles and running due north and south, it meandered along rivers and streams on the western side of the Connecticut Berkshires. It was a viable option I thought, so a few days later, I hopped on my bicycle, (I didn’t have my driver’s license at that point), and rode the fifteen miles over to New York State in search of the pathway.
It was clearly marked where it crossed a state highway, so I turned south and began pedaling on it. I glanced at my watch to note the time, as I wanted to get some idea of how often I encountered fellow bicyclists or walkers. I rode south for five minutes, then turned and retraced my steps, and only met three other people on bikes and two who were walkers. I saw no police, or any other authority figures, and decided it was perfect.
Upon returning home, I texted sLave 6 and told her I had selected a place. I told her where it was, and that I would do it on the Saturday of the next week coming. I told her where I would be entering the pathway, which direction I would walk, and the time. She didn’t text me back until almost eight hours later. (something that was highly unusual, but I didn’t connect it with anything at the time, although I have since learned that LOThAR, and sLave 6 never do anything unusual. There is always a reason. A purpose. And it is never so innocent or mundane as a scheduling conflict), sLave 6 said the direction I would walk and the location were acceptable, but that the date and time were not. I was instructed to do it the Saturday afternoon after the one I had proposed and that I was to begin exactly at 1:30PM. More instructions would follow. (I just assumed the date I had picked wouldn’t work for her, and then the tinglings sent me into a fantasy world of imagining her fulfilling her duties as a sLave to the Realm, clouding my thinking, obscuring it really, and I masturbated over it, many times). In the meantime, I was to continue my practice in Male worship with Terrell, and additionally, I was to ask him to bring some females along as well, stating that Female worship was a skill almost as important as Male worship. (I did as I was told, even though Terrell doubled his finder’s fee that he received from me from the original $20 to $40, earning him almost $100 on each of the next two Saturdays behind the restaurant). The boys were easy. They’d cum in my mouth, I’d swallow it, clean them, and do the next one in line. The girls, though, were cruel, making harsh humiliating comments about what I was, mocking me, taunting me. They really got my tinglings going, and I would play with myself as I serviced them, cumming, as I made them cum.
As promised, I received a text from sLave 6 the morning of my scheduled naked walk that contained further instructions which had to be strictly adhered to. I was to enter the pathway, wearing a t shirt, the shortest shorts I owned, and sneakers, at precisely 1:30 and walk south approximately 100 yards. There I would see someone handing out free bottles of water. I was to obey everything that person told me to do. I was also instructed to bathe and shave fully, excepting of course under my arms, (which by then was a thick copse of long black hair which poked from under my armpits even when my arms were at my sides). I did all of my pre-walk preparations, told Grandma Jo I was going for a bike ride, and was pedaling my bicycle towards New York State by 12:00, figuring on leaving myself some time to find the path, find a place to secure my bike, and scope out where I would be taking this test.
As I neared Amenia, N. Y., I was surprised by the number of cars parked along both sides of the two lane state road leading into the tiny little hamlet. A large banner was tied between two poles spanning the road proclaiming today as a Mother Daughter Cancer Awareness Walk-a-Thon. There were women everywhere! Young, old, pre-teens, infants, every age, color, shape, and size. Everywhere! I wasn’t sure how many, but I counted over fifty just as I pedaled past the trail entrance and headed towards some small shops.
It was almost 1:00 when I locked my bike to a bike rack near the post office and walked slowly back to the trail, passing lots of mothers and daughters who had completed the walk, talking excitedly together. A seemingly steady of stream of walkers kept exiting the trail as I watched. I was really frightened. How could I possibly do this without being caught, or arrested even? I looked all around and spotted a table that had been set up by a local high school cheerleading group to sell snacks, bottled water, and home baked goods. I bought a water and two cookies and walked slowly around watching for police. A glance at my watch said it was not 1:20. Ten minutes to go. The tinglings were starting to come on strong now. My pussy was getting wet. I saw a small damp spot starting to spread on the front of my shorts. I wanted to touch it so badly. My stomach was churning as well, and so I sipped some of the water to try to calm myself. 1:23. I walked past the trail entrance again, and saw women walking towards me as far up the trail as I could see. They were all walking north, no one was walking south. 1:25. No one seemed to notice me, I guessed that I looked like someone waiting for a friend. Women kept passing by me, the tinglings were as strong as they had ever been. 1:28. Two more minutes. My palms were wet, I felt sweat in the small of my back. My pussy was soaked, I felt wetness down the inside of my thighs. 1:29. I looked all around, 360 degrees. I felt totally removed from the situation. 1:30. Like an automaton, I started to walk south on the trail, into the steady tide of women and girls walking north. I didn’t think about it, I looked at no one, weaving left and right to dodge the people and strollers.
About a minute into my walk, I spotted a table off to the right side of the trail. As I neared the table, I could see that it was manned by a woman who was handing out free bottles of water. It was hard to guess her age: short black hair streaked with gray, no make-up on her face, dressed in the same pink shirt as all of the walkers were wearing, sunglasses effectively hiding her eyes. She was seated at a chair, talking on a cell phone, with an empty chair next to her. Could this be sLave 6, I thought to myself as I approached the table?
She looked over and saw me as I neared her. Before I could speak, she motioned for me to sit next to her behind the table. She didn’t stop her phone conversation, “No, I haven’t seen him yet. Yes, I’ll tell you when I do.” There was a pause as the other person spoke. “Good, let me know if another one goes by you. We’ll get ready here.” The woman closed her cell phone and handed a bottle of water up for a walker to take. Without looking at me, she said, “When I tell you to, you will stand up and strip. You may leave your sneakers on, but you’ll leave your clothes here with me. Start walking up the path in the same direction, against traffic. You are to speak to no one, stop for no one. Don’t try to cover your nakedness, and make sure you walk.... slowly. When you reach the next water table, you will receive further instructions. Obey them instantly. Any questions?”
“Ar....are you sLave 6,” I stammered, as I watched the people passing by us?
“Insolent little slut, aren’t you,” she hissed, but still looking straight ahead. Then she picked up the phone, hit a speed dial number and said, “I see him now. He’s coming up to us now.”
A sheriff’s deputy pedaled by us on a bicycle. She held up a bottle of water, he saw it and stopped.
“Thank’s,” he said, taking a long drink.
“Big turn out,” she said to him.
“Sure is,” he agreed. “And there’s still a lot more people coming up behind me, and we only have two people covering it!”
“Have there been any problems,” she queried?
“Nothing to write home about. A sprained ankle, a few fatigued.....that’s all. These things usually go smooth. Nothing major. Anyway, thanks for the water, I have to get going.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, “Bye.”
As soon as the deputy was out of our sight down the path she said, “It’s time. Take off your clothes and go!”
I guess I must have hesitated for a second, because she barked at me, “Do it now, cunt!”
I stood immediately, and without thinking, pulled my t shirt over my head and tossed it on the table. Then I grabbed my shorts at the waist band and pulled them down my legs and stepped out of them, handing them over to her as well. “Get going,” she said, “And remember, you’re being watched, so do what you were told.”
I started walking, and instantly, people started getting out of my way, giving me a wide berth as I strolled up the center of the asphalt walkway. Most of the women looked at me, quickened their pace, and kept going. There were many who made remarks: a young girl, maybe six, said to her mother, “Why is she naked, Mommy?” An older woman, in her fifties, said,” What are you doing young lady?” Another said, “What’s the matter with you?” Once asked, “Are you alright, is something wrong?” A few said, “Call 911.”
As ordered, I walked boldly up the path, eyes straight ahead, arms swinging naturally at my sides, my breasts swaying with my gait. The tinglings were in overdrive, wetness flowed from my pussy.. There was a broad smile on my face. I felt proud! Strong. Empowered. Proud to proclaim to the world through my nudity that I was a slut. It made me feel free!
It seemed like mere seconds, and I saw the second water table. A different woman was manning this one. Younger, long blond hair, pale white skin. Same pink t shirt, though. She saw me a motioned quickly that I was to come sit next to her. “Get behind me and put these on,” she said, handing me a pink t shirt and shorts. She seemed very anxious, looking up the trail. “Be quick, he’s coming.”
I pulled the t shirt over my head and yanked the shorts up. “Sit next to me, put these on,” she said, handing me a large pair of sunglasses. “Grab some water and pass it out.”
I began handing water out to walkers, and not two minutes later, another deputy sheriff rode up on a bicycle. “We got a report of some woman walking the path naked,” he said, looking both ways through the people. “Did you see her?”
“No, Officer,” the blonde replied. “She didn’t come by here. I mean, I’m sure I would have noticed something like that!”
“That’s for sure,” he agreed. “Must have been a prank call, or maybe some kids playing games. Thanks.” He peddled away in the direction I had just come from.
The blonde punched a number on her cell phone, “He left. All’s good here, although we should move her in case someone comes back and recognizes her.” A pause, listening. “Okay. We’re going now.” She closed the phone. “Let’s get going. Come with me.”
We walked together against the traffic, back to weaving and dodging the walkers again. (Being naked does have some advantages!).
We left the path when we reached a point where the path crossed a road. Following the road, we walked a few hundred yards until we came to an inconspicious looking mini-van. It had essence of soccer mom all about it. The blonde pulled open the slider and climbed in. I followed her, and she closed the door.
The dark haired woman was behind the wheel, another woman I hadn’t seen before sat in the passenger seat, and the blonde and I were on the middle bench seat, and then two other women I didn’t recognize were seated in the back. The driver started the car and we left. No one spoke for a few minutes, and then the passenger swivelled in her Captain’s Chair to face me. “Take off your clothes, sLit14,” she said to me.
I pulled off the pink t shirt and slipped the shorts down my legs.
“Sneakers as well.”
I took them off and sat there naked, surrounded by six women I did not know.
“I am sLave 6, and I understand you have been inquiring about me,” the woman in the Captain’s chair said.
She was not at all what I had imagined her to be. Milky white, pasty skin, shoulder length fine blonde hair without a trace of yellow in it, blood red lipstick and matching nail polish. Even with the large sunglasses that covered her eyes I could see that she had no eyebrows. She was wearing the same pink logo t shirt as everyone else, with a pleated plaid skirt and leather thong sandals with straps that twisted and wrapped crisscrossing up her shapely calves which were tied just below her knees. I could see that her toenails matched her fingernails. She took off her sunglasses and squinted in the light, but not before I caught a glimpse of the tell-tale pink eyes of a true albino.
“I want you to spread your legs nice and wide and expose your cunt to me,” she said.
I squatted on the seat and put my feet up on either side of me spreading my knees far apart.
“Now pleasure yourself while you tell us all how your little naked walk today made you feel. What was going through your mind?”
My hand went to my pussy, but I stopped it, asking, “May I be allowed to cum, Ma’am?”
“Good. I was wondering if you would think to ask permission. Yes, you may cum. Keep toying your hole, don’t stop. Keep doing it.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
The instant my fingers found my swollen clit, the tinglings caused me to explode, violently, and for the first time, I squirted. Wetness shot from me as I buried my fingers deep inside my pussy.
When the waves of pleasure slackened off, I began to recount my feelings and thoughts about being exposed naked in public. I don’t remember how long I spoke, but I do remember cumming multiple times, so many times, in fact, that the driver remarked on it.
“Now you may worship me,” sLave 6 said, after I was done talking. I got on my knees, and using the skills I had honed with Rosa and Carmelita, I slowly pleasured her. She kept her hands on the back of my head as I made her cum three times.
Sated, she said, “We will drop you off where you began your walk. When you get home, check your email, it will contain our review of your test today, as well as instructions for completing your next test. Your six month review is rapidly approaching. If you can pass that, I will answer any and all of your questions. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” I said.
As the van was pulling over to let me out in Amenia, sLave 6 said, “Put your clothes on, but put these on first.” She handed me a shopping bag. “You are to keep these on until it is time for you to shower this evening.”
“Yes, Ma’am.
I reached in the bag and pulled out a push up bra, one size too small for me, and a large pair of well worn soiled white cotton women’s briefs. I must have looked confused, as she added, “I want you to put on underwear, you’ll know why momentarily.”
I nodded, and whispered, “Thank you, Ma’am.
The bra was studded with dozens of red enamel painted round dots which completely covered the cups. As I started to place the cups over my breasts, I saw that, in fact, they weren’t decorative dots at all, they were thumb tacks which had been pressed through the fabric with the points facing inward. Gathering my strength, I put the bra on, and was rewarded my many pricks of the tacks. “Fasten it for her, sLit 7,” sLave 6 said. “The tightest it goes.”
The woman seated behind me reached over the seat and pulled the bra tight against my chest, driving the tacks deeper into my tender skin. Then she tugged even more to set the clasp at the tightest setting.
I pulled on the huge white briefs and was about to pull on my shorts as well when sLave 6 said, “Hold on a minute.”
The woman next to me put on a pair of latex gloves and reached into a plastic bag, pulling out some kind of green leafy plant I didn’t recognize. With one hand, she pulled the elastic band on the briefs, and with the other, she stuffed the plant into my panties. Immediately fire, pain, and itching consumed my crotch.
“Nettles,” sLave 6 said, in answer to my unspoken question.
I got dressed and made the agonizing return ride home on my bike: my crotch ablaze, my tits screaming, the pedaling motion rubbing my clit against the tip of the bicycle seat, with the tinglings driving me. I was in heaven.
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