Sleeping Forest by Renier Laroche (books to get back into reading txt) 📕

mouth."

She took another picture. Then, she took a step back and took another picture, of his entire nude body.

"Okay, turn around and touch your toes". 

He did so.

"Okay, follow me."

He took her to a prison cell, with nothing in it besides a bed with a mattress but no sheet. He stepped inside and she closed the barred door behind him.

"So, as I'm sure you already know, your auction is live online now, and will end in 24 hours." She left him in his cell, cold and naked. 

24 hours later he heard the familiar sound of high heels clicking on the tile floor. He wondered if she was bringing him food. He hadn't liked the prison food they served him, nor had he liked being hosed down that morning. The woman came and unlocked his cell door. 

"Have I been purchased?"

She ignored the question.

"Follow me". 

They walked down the hallway and into an open room. In it was a large wooden crate, with holes drilled into the bottom. Without needing to be told, he layed down inside the crate. Another worker entered, and with the help of the woman zip ties were pushed through the holes and used to tightly fasten him to the bottom of the crate. The woman smiled at him one last time and then put the lid on the crate. 

He felt the crate be picked up off the floor and transported into what he assumed was a truck. Eventually, the motion of the truck stopped, and he felt himself being turned to a standing position and felt the crate moved again. 

The lid was removed and he was temporarily blinded. As he eyes adjusted to the light he found himself staring at a girl with brown hair, freckles, and a great body smiling at him. She was wearing a white t-shirt and running shorts. He recognised her from high school; her name was Isabella. 

"Do you remember me?" 

He nodded.

"When I saw you go up for auction I just couldn't resist. I've always wanted to own someone that I knew." She said, smiling. She walked away from him to get a pair of scissors to cut him loose. He couldn't help but stare at her ass as she walked away, which was perfect: large and round but firm, and she had thick legs to match it. The rest of her was gorgeous as well: pale skin, freckles that covered her face and ran down her upper chest and arms, large but not gigantic breasts. He was happy that she had been the one to purchase him. She walked back with the scissors, and as she cut off his bindings she explained "From now on I am Mistress Isabella, and you are slaveboy, slut, sub, or whatever else I feel like calling you. You will now call me nothing but Mistress Isabella or Mistress, and "Mistress Isabella" will be at the beginning or end of every sentence you speak. You will not speak unless spoken to, unless you have something important to ask. I would rather have you ask a question than do something wrong, but if I feel that your question was not important enough to ask me, you will be punished. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress Isabella".

"Good."

She cut the last of his restraints.

"Step out of the box."

"Yes Mistress Isabella."

Isabella grabbed his now hard cock and began stroking it.

"This looks even better in person. I wouldn't want to own a cock unless it's perfect, right?"

"Yes Mistress Isabella."

"You will now be naked most of the time. Slaves don't deserve to own clothes. Unless I'm dressing you up for fun, I will have this body that I now own on display."

"Yes Mistress Isabella". 

"Get on your knees, slave."

"Yes Mistress Isabella."

She grabbed a shopping bag from the counter and brought it to him. She pulled out a leather collar and placed it around his neck, then locked it shut with a small metal padlock.

"This is to signify that you belong to me. You will never take this off. Understood?"

"Yes Mistress Isabella."

"Now come with me."

"Yes Mistress Isabella."

She grabbed him by his erect cock and used it as a leash, pulling him down the hallway into her bedroom.

"Even though you haven't broken any rules, I am going to punish you so that you understand what will happen if you do break a rule. And, more importantly, I'm going to punish you because I enjoy it."

"Yes Mistress Isabella."

She grabbed the chair sitting behind her desk and put it into the middle of the room. Then, she paused and said "Stripping the sub is the best part of the spanking, right?"

"Yes Mistress Isabella."

She smiled.

"Well I guess we'll have to make do".

She walked over to her dresser. He looked around the room. She had a large wooden desk, a wooden dresser, a closet, a bed, and a large dog crate next to the bed. One of the walls was a mirror. She opened the dresser and began throwing clothes onto the bed.

"Put those on"

"Yes Mistress Isabella."

He looked at the clothes: white calvin klein panties, a plaid skirt, and a white button down shirt. He wanted to protest but knew he couldn't. Blushing, he picked up the panties and put them on. They squeezed his cock to the side and were wedgied into his ass. He put on the rest of the outfit and turned to Isabella.

"Oh you look so good in my clothes."

"Thank you, Mistress Isabella".

She got a wooden hairbrush out of her desk and sat on the chair.

"Now come here and get over my knee."

Understanding his powerlessness, he said yes and lowered himself on her lap. He was embarrassed and his face was blood red, and only got redder as she began to grab and squeeze his ass cheeks. She brought the back of the brush down sharply, and the slave cried and kicked his legs. The second stroke was harder, and he instinctively reached his hand back to stop it. She grabbed his arm with her left hand and pinned it to his back, and continued to spank him. After a few more spanks she lifted up his skirt to expose his ass, and continued to spank him. He began to cry out in pain after every hit. It hurt much worse than he expected. She grabbed the panties and pulled them upwards, wedging them into his ass to expose more skin. The brush hurt worse on his bare skin. She then ordered him to stand up and take off the skirt and shirt. He was pulled back onto her knee, and the punishment continued. She spanked him a few more times, then declared "you deserve it on your bare bottom!" and pulled the panties down. She continued to spank him, he began to kick his legs as the pain increased, and she eventually wrapped her right leg around his to hold them down. After 10 more hard smacks she told him to stand up.

"Yes Mistress Isabella."

"Put your hands on your head."

"Yes Mistress Isabella."

She entered her walk in closet, and closed the door behind her. A few minutes later she walked out wearing nothing but black stockings and a black garter. Her pubic hair was trimmed into a small patch. She was holding onto a long, thin steel cane, which the slave was immediately afraid of.

"What do you think slave."

"You look fantastic, Mistress".

She smiled, then turned the chair towards her, grabbed the slave by his hair, and bent him over the chair. She walked behind him, and said "Hold this, slave."

"Yes Mistress Isabella."

He then felt a finger enter his ass, which was tight and squeezed on it hard. She pushed the finger in and out of him a few times, then pushed in two fingers. He felt the cold steel handle of the cane enter him.

"If this falls you will get punished more severely."

"Yes Mistress Isabella."

He made sure to hold onto it tightly, deeply afraid of the cane. She walked around and told the slave to watch. She bent over infront of him, revealing that she was wearing a glass buttplug. She slowly pulled it out of her, and told him to open his mouth. He did, and she put the plug in his mouth, then used her hands to close his mouth over it. 

"Don't let this fall out."

"Yes Mistress Isabella," he did his best to say with a full mouth. She pulled the cane out of him, and used it to cut through the air, making a frightening swish sound. Nameless Midnight

 At lunchtime on Friday, you send me a text message: "When you get home from work, put your suction cups on your nipples. I want them nice and big ready for this evening." I can barely concentrate on my work throughout the afternoon as I try to imagine what you might have planned for the evening. 

I get home and put on my suction cups, feeling them pull my nipples outwards as the blood rushes to them. I wonder whether I could get away with having a quick play as I feel my arousal growing. But I know that you would not be pleased if you came home and found me touching myself, so I reluctantly resist. 

Your next text message arrives about 15 minutes later: "I've booked a table for dinner. Wear a nice dress, stockings, heels and your crotchless knickers. Nothing else. I'm working late, so I'll meet you at the restaurant at 6.30. Remove the suction cups just before you leave the house." I re-read your message and realise that you did not mention a bra. 

I send you a reply, hoping that this is an oversight: "Sir, my nipples will be very large from the suction cups. May I wear a bra to cover them?" 

Your reply is a curt "No" and I worry that I have annoyed you by questioning your authority. I begin to imagine how you might punish me for this infraction and get carried away in a daydream until I realise that I do not have long to get ready for dinner. I pick out a dress, trying to find one that is not too low cut, hoping to retain some modesty. When I am ready to leave, I remove the suction cups. My nipples are huge and very hard. They are so sensitive that I can feel every movement of the soft fabric of my dress rubbing against them. I look in the mirror and see that my nipples are very visible, poking against the dress.

Walking to the restaurant, I feel vulnerable with such little underwear and worry that every slight gust of wind will lift up the hem of my dress to reveal my knickers. I am very aware of my nipples and feel as if every passer-by must be staring at me. But I arrive at the restaurant without incident and find you already seated at a table in a quiet corner. You stand to greet me as I approach the table and I melt at the sight of you in a suit. I've always had a thing for a man in a proper suit. Maybe it's the way it adds to their air of dominance. Or maybe it's linked to my fantasies of being a submissive secretary (but that will have to be saved for a different story...!)

You pull me gently towards you and kiss me lightly