Speaker 1: The heavy oak door clicked shut behind us, and the
sound landed in my chest like a stone dropped into
still water. I locked my knees to keep them from buckling.
The room wasn't what I'd pictured during all those whispered
planning sessions in bed. It was clean, almost clinical, polished
darkwood floors, indirect lighting that gleamed off stainless steel fixtures,
the faint, crisp scent of antiseptic and leather. Professional, the
kind of place where terrible things happened with perfect precision.
Two women stood waiting, not in costume, not in head
to toe latex. The taller one wore a black silk
blouse and tailored trousers, her dark hair in a sharp bob.
The other, blonde and curvier, stood in a charcoal gray
sheath dress. Both exuded the kind of calm that made
my pulse hammer against my ear drums. Mistress Valeria and
Mistress Sloane. They introduced themselves with voices that held no warmth.
The consent check came next, safe words boundaries, the cold
reminder that know and stop would be ignored. My safe
word redwood sat on my tongue like a hard candy.
I could crush if I needed to. Roses was maple.
Her hand found mine, fingers lacing tight, her palm was
already slick. Then Mistress Sloane said, for the duration of
this session, we do not plan to be kind. She paused,
letting the words press down on us. We plan to
be mean. We will mock your bodies, your desires, your vulnerability.
This is your one chance to walk out that door
with your pride intact. The silence stretched. I felt Rosa's
grip tighten, then release. I heard my own voice, thin
but steady. We stay, We stay, Rosa echoed. Then strip
Heat flooded my face, not a blush, but a full
body ignition. My fingers fumbled with the buttons of my blouse.
The cotton whispered over my shoulders, and I could feel
their eyes on me. Not hungry, not yet evaluating. I
folded each garment with obsessive care, kneading the ritual, needing
my hands to do something other than shake. When I
finally turned naked, Rosa stood beside me, her arms already
crossing over her chest. I'd seen her body a thousand times.
Now it looked utterly new, vulnerable like mine, arms at
your sides. Mistress Valeria snapped posture, shoulders back, let us
see what we're working with. We obeyed. They circled us
like Appraiser's Mistress. Sloane stopped behind Rosa, tracing a finger
down her spine. Modestly toned but soft. The hips are generous,
a body built for comfort, not for endurance. Rosa jerked
at the touch, and I watched her jaw clench. Mistress
Valeria stopped in front of me. She didn't speak at first,
just studied my face, my collar bone, the way my
breath caught. Then she reached out and pinched my right nipple.
Not hard, but sudden and so shockingly precise that a
jolt of sensation shot straight to my core. I gasped,
the sound escaped before I could trap it. Ah responsive,
that is something, at least. She released me and gestured
to the left side of the room. There your places.
Two padded leather benches sat side by side, angled inward
so that once secured, we'd see each other completely. The
cuffs hanging from the sides gleamed. I climbed onto the
lower pad, knees sinking into cool leather, and lowered my
torso onto the slanted rest, my cheek pressed against the surface.
As I turned my head to the left. Rosa was
doing the same on the adjacent bench, her brown eyes
already locked on mine. Her lips parted as if to speak,
but no sound came. The angle was perfect. Every flinch,
every tear, everything would be shared. Cuffs closed around my wrists,
pulling my arms down to anchor points near the floor,
then my ankles, spreading my legs wide enough to feel
the air kiss places that had never been this exposed, immovable.
Trapped My heart beat so hard I could feel it
in my throat. Miss Mistress Sloane's hand landed on the
curve of my ass. Casual, possessive. Look at this pair
side by side, like two ripe fruits waiting to be bruised.
She walked into my field of vision, looking between us.
You will watch, You will see every flinch, every tear,
every shameful bit of pleasure you try to hide. Mistress
Valeria stepped between the benches, her voice dropped. You came
here to lose your anal virginity together, a sweet shared
first time. That is not what this is. This is
a breaken in. We are not your lovers we are
your teachers, and the lesson is surrender. You wanted to suffer,
you will, And the first part of that suffering is
understanding how ridiculous you look, how little control you have
over what happens to your most private places. Humiliation burned
through me, a flash fire that left my skin prickling.
But beneath it, coiling low, was a thrill so sharp
it bordered on pain. I saw Rose's eyes glisten, her
breath coming in quick puffs against the leather. She felt
it too, the fear, the excitement, the terrible wanted vulnerability.
A cap clicked open, the wet, slick sound of lubricant
being poured, the scent of unscented silicone reached me. Oh god,
it's real, cold, slippery gel pressed against my anus. My
body seized, every muscle locking against the intrusion. I cried out,
the sound bouncing off the polished walls. Relax, Mister Sloane commanded,
you are tight as a fist. This is just lubricant,
just a finger. If you cannot take this, you can
leave as the s billy little girls who wasted our time.
The mockery cut deep. I forced a breath out, willed
my body to unclench, my gaze never leaving Rose's face.
She was struggling too. I could see it in the
tiny furrow between her brows, the way her lips pressed
together together. We do this together. The lubricant was massaged
in slow, insistent circles. The sensation was alien, invasive, a
pressure that my brain kept trying to reject. But as
Mistress Sloane worked it, the shock began to shift, less shocking,
more focused. Such a timid little starfish, she murmured, clenched
so tight, and we're coming in. I watched, mesmerized and
horrified as Mistress Valeria's gloved hand moved between Rosa's legs,
her motions mirroring Sloanes. Rosa whimpered, her eyes squeezing shut
before she forced them open again. She found my gaze,
and something passed between us, a silent anchor. Mistress Valeria's
voice dropped to an intimate, taunting register. Now the first violation,
you will feel a finger penetrate you, and you will
watch your lover experience the same. The pressure at my
opening intensified, no longer circling, a blunt, focused, insistent push.
My body resisted the ring of muscle clamped down hard open.
Mistress Sloane whispered. Her free hand came down in a sharp,
stinging slap on my right ass cheek. The pain was
bright and sudden, a shock that snapped my breath inward,
and in that instant, my tight, puckered asshole gave way.
The gloved fingertip slipped past the tight outing and into me.
A sound left my throat, not a word, something more animal.
The feeling was utterly, profoundly strange. Not pain, not exactly.
It was a deep, overwhelming fullness, a stretching, a claiming.
I could feel every ridge of her knuckle, the slight
curl of her finger. It rested there, buried where no
one had ever been. From Rosa's bench came a choked sob.
I turned my head. Tears leaked from the corners of
her eyes. Mistress Valeria's finger was stuck up her asshole too,
up to the first knuckle. Her face was contorted, mouth open,
hips trembling. There it is, Mistress Sloane crooned her finger
inside me, pulsing with a tiny exploring motion. The sacred
virgin ass conquered. Look at her, Alice, Look at your
brave girlfriend and crying with a woman's finger deep in
her shitter. Is it what you dreamed of? I could
feel myself clenching around her, the muscle fluttering uncontrollably. My
clit throbbed against the cool leather, a demand I couldn't ignore.
I was horrifyingly, shamefully wet. Mistress Sloane began to move,
a slow, deliberate withdrawal until just the tip remained, then
a smooth, firm push back in. I moaned, the sound
torn from my throat. Listen to that. She purred a
virgin ass and it's already singin for more pathetic. The
drag of the latex inside me was slick and strange,
a friction that sparked along nerves I didn't know existed.
Each push jolted through me a direct line downward, making
me ache against the bench. My hips gave a tiny
involunt and terry roll. I watched Rosa's body betray her
the same way, hips jerking forward seeking more pressure, even
as tears still streaked her cheeks. See how she grinds.
Mistress Valeria laughed a cold sound. She hates it, but
her cunt loves it. She's dripping onto the leather, Rosa,
Are you drippin' for me? Are you dripping because I'm
opening this dirty little hole for the first time. Rosa's
breath hitched. I could see the sheen of sweat on
her skin, the desperate glaze in her eyes. We were
both there in that same terrifying, exhilarating space bound, exposed,
being unmade. Mistress Sloane's finger plunged deeper on the next stroke,
a sudden, deeper invasion that made me arch against the restraints.
You like that, don't you. You came here to be taken,
and now you're realizing what that truly means. Your body
is no longer yours. It's a toy, our toy. We've
only just started playing, and we like to break our toys,
you pair of filthy dike sluts. She curled her finger,
the world went white. A spot deep inside me, a
place I never knew existed, detonated. It wasn't like anything
I'd felt before, Deeper than clitteral pleasure, more seismic, a
shock wave that radiated outward, clenching my entire pelvis, curling
my toes inside the restraints, A raw guttural cry ripped
from my throat, a sound I didn't recognize from Rosa's bench,
a matching shattered moan. There, both Dominas said in sinister unison,
Let's fuck em like they've never been fucked before. If
you want to hear the second part of this filthy
sexy story, come back tomorrow and hear these two sluts
get fucked. I hoped you enjoyed today's sexy story. If
you love this podcast, leave an Apple review, Share what
sexy fantasies you want to hear. Maybe we can make
your dirty dreams come true. See you soon,