[Various Artists] 😈 Hot Arts and Sciences 😈

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[KristinF] Tight Fit

 

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[KristinF] Studio B

 

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[KristinF] Punishing The Au Pair

 

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[KristinF] Pussy Pampering

 

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[KristinF] Serve Your King!

 

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[KristinF] The Devil's Threesome (A rich sugar-daddy treats his young wife to a little chocolate log at Christmas (lunky girl!) )

 

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[KristinF] The Gentlemen's Club

 

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[Moriban] The Gathering V

 

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[Whitehaven] Rachel's Adventure 1 (aa)
There were three things that caused Rachel’s and my paths to cross: First, a shared love for Pre-Raphaelite art that made us frequent the same circles. Second, a predilection for damsels in distress. Here, Rachel obviously identified with the damsel while I tended more toward the mustache-twirling villain. Third, the 20-year-old art student was driven by a powerful sense of adventure that made her reach out to me after reading some of my stories. She knew what she was getting into.

Weirdly enough, some people get turned on by visions of being held captive, ravished, tortured, and abused. Rachel was one of those people. For many years, Rachel had dreamt about being a damsel in distress—starting with fairy tale princesses getting captured by evil knights and barbarians. Even true crimes like the 1977 “girl in a box” case or the chilling David Parker Ray tape made Rachel shiver with more than just horror and revulsion—a forbidden sense of carnal wishfulness, tempered by the need to avoid taking excessive risks.

When Rachel learnt that, besides writing stories that she liked, I had a girlfriend living in what the pros call a 24/7 D/s relationship, a well-stocked (and soundproof) basement, plus the opportunity and willingness to house “guests,” an idea began to germinate in her mind.

 

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[Whitehaven] Rachel's Adventure 1 (ab)
Rachel wondered what it would mean to enjoy my “hospitality,” but I could tell that she was unsure about the risk. That's why I suggested: “Don’t just listen to me, talk to my girlfriend. She can tell you all about it.”
* * *
Over the phone, they had agreed to meet in the park at 4 PM. When Rachel saw the skimpily dressed, collared redhead approach, she immediately realized that this must be Whitehaven’s girlfriend.

Rachel motioned for the young woman to approach and sit down: “Hi! Thanks for coming. Did I get that right? Your name is ‘Three?’”

The woman smiled and sat down: “Nice to meet you, Rachel! Yep, 3. It's the number Sir gave me. I don’t have a name, not anymore.”

“Oh!” Rachel was astonished and temporarily speechless.

3 nodded: “Part of my life now. Slaves don’t have names. Like running around like this—“ She waved her hand down her half-naked body. "—although I have to say that I still find it cool that He makes me do it. I’d never have dared dress like this on my own.”

“Tell me about it,” observed Rachel drily. “And no shoes.”

“No shoes at all. Sir doesn’t allow them. Except where it’s necessary, like when I’m grocery shopping.”

Rachel’s belly started to tingle. She could imagine how she would attract stares when walking around dressed like this. Being forced to walk barefoot on the filthy sidewalk, showing off her body—Rachel shivered excitedly.

3 started to explain: “So, there I was, two years ago: Inga Palmer, recently moved here, looking for a job, dipping my toes in the local kinky scene. Then I met Him. Moved in, curious, first for a week, then for a month, and now I’m with Him for over two years.” She gestured excitedly. “Gosh! It would be SO cool if you would move in, too! You wanted to know what it is like living with Him. Go ahead! Ask me anything!”

 

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[Whitehaven] Rachel's Adventure 1 (ac)
3 explained while Rachel listened with rapturous attention:

“You want to hear about the good and the bad. Alright, I’ll start with the bad, so that you don’t get any wrong ideas. People often start these things starry-eyed.” She chuckled. “I sure did! And I had a lot of learning to do. If I can help you avoid my mistakes…”

3 started to count on her fingers: “One: You need to know that above all Sir is a sadist. That means that he gets off by making me uncomfortable, by hurting me. I happen to like a bit of pain—“ She snorted with amusement. “—well, actually I like it a lot, so I’m good with that, but you need to know your limits and how ‘hard’ your limits are. We had to learn that over time, and it works best if you react and don’t hold back. Scream, moan, cry—whatever you like—but don’t bottle it up if you hate it.” She sighed happily, remembering a fulfilling episode: “If you let yourself go and really ‘live’ through what He’s doing to you, there is no stronger, better feeling. Fire burning your soul clean. I can’t describe it any better, sorry! But the point is: You need to like some nastiness.”

Rachel remembered the time when she had experimentally drizzled hot wax on her breasts, to test if she could stand it: She could, and it had felt wonderful. Just on the right edge between pain and pleasure. She also thought of how she had whipped herself with a belt, like a medieval flagellant: A thoroughly unsatisfying experience. If she wanted to know what it was like to be whipped, somebody else would have to do it. She thought of when she tied herself into a tight hogtie: The growing ache in her shoulders from being pulled backward made her feel warm in her belly, and with her hands tied she could not touch herself.

“I think I can manage that,” said Rachel matter-of-factly.

3 continued: “Here’s some homework for you: Write down your hard limits. The ‘never do that’ stuff. Then your soft limits: What you might do but are afraid of. Where you want to push your envelope, if you know what I mean. Then what rocks your boat: Best write an essay about your favourite fantasies.”

Rachel’s belly was aflutter again. Oh, she could write pages about that!

“Ok,” she acknowledged. “I guess this is so that He gets to know me.”

3 shook her head: “No, this is foremost that you know yourself: What you want and what you don’t want. So that you aren’t surprised by your own reactions. And believe me, your body can surprise you in many ways.”

Rachel nodded, waiting for the redhead to continue.

 

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[Whitehaven] Rachel's Adventure 1 (ad)
3 continued to count, raising a second finger:

“Second, learn to battle boredom! There’s one thing that you really need to understand; it almost broke our relationship in the beginning before I wizened up: It is not His job to keep you entertained. Playtime is not when you want it to be, it is when He wants it to be. Don’t be as dumb as I was when I kept pestering Sir when I got bored.”

“So, what do you do—” asked Rachel, arching her brow.

“In the house, there is always something to do. I structure my day. Lots of chores to do.” 3 giggled. “If you find a dust bunny somewhere, I ought to be whipped! You can eat from the floor, honey.”

3 briefly crossed her wrists in front of her, indicating being tied up: “And when I’m locked away, I just have to wait. I daydream. Exercise. Invent stories. Beats watching a talk show." She grinned.

Coping with boredom was something Rachel had not really thought about. Yes, she had spent the night in the dark bathroom, sleeping naked on the cold tiles, imagining that it was a cell, but that was different. She made a mental note to look up some techniques to keep herself occupied.

3’s face brightened: “But now that you move in,” She gripped Rachel’s arm excitedly. “—if you move in, that is—there’s two of us, and that is a game changer! We can be there for each other.” Bubbling with enthusiasm, she added: “Isn’t that wonderful? And with that, let’s talk about the good stuff!”

 

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[Whitehaven] Rachel's Adventure 1 (ae)
3 tilted her head in an inquiring manner: “I’ll let you guess, Rachel. What do you think keeps me with Sir despite all the nastiness and the drudgery, huh?”

Rachel answered confidently: “Because He gives you the life and the thrill that you can’t get elsewhere.”

3 shook her head and smiled: “Sure, that's important, but that isn't it. If I tell you it’s ‘freedom,’ would you think I am crazy?”

Rachel scrunched her nose in confusion, but then, suddenly half-developed thoughts and ideas she had carried for a long time fell into place. She nodded: “Of course! Freedom from responsibilities—He is taking care of everything.”

3’s infectious smile was like the sun reappearing behind a cloud: “You get it! You’re a natural, honey! You see: I own nothing. No clothes, no money, no place to live. What I have I get from Him. Like a child from its parents or a pet from its owner if you prefer. But that makes my life so much simpler and easier.”

“Of course, you need to trust him,” interjected Rachel cautiously.

“Of course. But after two years, we’re good. Now I don’t have any worries except keeping Him happy. Is it a good deal? For many, it won’t be. For me it is.”

 

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[Whitehaven] Rachel's Adventure 1 (af)
It was a lovely afternoon in the park. Rachel remained behind with a lot to think about. Moving away from the bench, she sat down under a tree. To put herself in the right mindset, she decided to take off her shirt and shoes, to partially emulate a slave girl’s minimal clothing. The gentle breeze felt cool on her skin, almost, but not quite, uncomfortably so.

Rachel was definitely not ready for a commitment like the one Inga—now “3”—had given. Owning nothing? Giving up everything she had—and was? It sounded exotically thorough but was far beyond what Rachel was willing to give up.

But the red-headed slave girl had started out small: First, she had stayed with her master for a week. Rachel could handle a week of, as Three had put it, “nastiness.” If anything, she was looking forward to it; that was the whole idea. Among the downsides, Rachel had not heard anything she felt unable to cope with.

Rachel nodded to herself, with a determined look in her eyes. She would go on this adventure. First, she would do the homework and really think hard about how far she wanted to go. Then she would phone Sir Whitehaven, telling him that she wanted to move in for a week. And she would endure whatever happened during that week.

And now, she would walk home carrying her shoes and shirt in her hand; damn the Peeping Toms and disapproving stares!

 

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[Whitehaven] Rachel's Adventure 1 (ag)
The move-in day had arrived. Rachel felt strange leaving her apartment with nothing, except for the clothes Sir Whitehaven had sent her. As expected, the clothing was minimal; she could squeeze the garments together in one hand.

She had examined her reflection in the mirror. Maybe a bit too short and her face a bit too broad, but she resolutely reminded herself that she was ok with the way she was.

Rachel left her apartment keys with a neighbour, telling the man that she was off on a vacation. Smiling and ogling Rachel’s lithe body, he acknowledged: “No problem. You’re sure dressed for a vacation. Enjoy!”

As expected, the skimpy clothing, and walking barefoot made Rachel feel small, vulnerable and exposed. Intellectually she knew that this was the intention, but she could not help it: The humiliation worked as planned.

Shivering from both excitement and the cool morning breeze, Rachel sat on the park bench, awaiting Sir Whitehaven’s arrival.

* * *

When the girl saw me approaching, she immediately jumped up. Good! She obviously had read the instructions I had provided together with the clothes.

“Hello, 5,” I greeted her.

“Hello, Sir!” Arching her eyebrow she asked, with a slight, mischievous grin: “Five? What happened to four?”

Keeping my face unmoved, I declared sternly: “You don’t want to know. If you find out, I might have to kill you.”

Instant alarm clouded her face, and her mouth widened in fear.

Seeing her panicked reaction, now it was my turn to grin: “Relax, kid! I’m just messing with you. The numbers are random. 4 is an unlucky number in Asia. I’m not superstitious, but better be safe than sorry. You’re number 5.”

Five’s laugh sounded a bit forced, but her face showed obvious relief.

“It’ll be fine, 5. Relax! You did a good job with your summary.” I let my eyes linger on her half-naked body, then added: “And you are very pretty.”

“Thank you, Sir!” 5 flashed a modest smile and fell silent, waiting intently. I hadn’t asked a question, so she did not speak up further. I was satisfied. The girl came prepared and seemed eager to please.

 

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[Whitehaven] Rachel's Adventure 1 (ah)
Pointing to the bench, I ordered 5 to take a seat: “Before we leave, let’s sit down for a bit. No, don’t cross your legs—feet on the ground—spread your thighs—a bit wider—good!” I grinned inwardly; something had come to my mind to make her feel more self-conscious: “That’s nice and airy, isn’t it? Let your pussy breathe, 5.”

5’s eyes darted left and right, with a distressed look on her face. It was obvious that she felt overwhelmingly uncomfortable sitting like this, wearing nothing under her miniskirt. I enjoyed her discomfort and let her squirm for a bit. Of course, I could have told her that there was nothing to see because it was too dark under the skirt, but she was too cute being consumed by embarrassment to break the mood.

* * *

With considerable effort, Rachel slowly conquered the waves of humiliation crashing over her.

Her first impressions of Sir Whitehaven left her with a mix of relief and worry. Relief, because he seemed quite normal, not crazy. At the same time, her emotional antennae picked up—not much. He appeared reserved, and she recognized an edge of deliberate callousness. That was what worried her: He seemed like a man who could watch her writhe in pain, screaming her heart out, begging for mercy, while he kept enjoying the show. In her mind, she reviewed the limits she had written down because he probably would respect only those.

And he seemed to like playing mind games. Well, two could play at that game.

* * *

“How do you feel, 5?”

The girl gulped, then put on a display of bravery and poise: “Exposed, but I’ll manage, Sir. It feels very—er—refreshing. I can recommend it—not just for pussies, but also for dongles.” Her eyes darted mischievously toward my midsection.

I couldn’t help laughing aloud. 5 displayed unexpected reserves of steadfastness. I sat down next to her. Then I revealed the gift I had brought for her.

 

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[Whitehaven] Rachel's Adventure 1 (ai)
5 weighed the heavy steel collar in her hands. I could see goosebumps on her skin.

“Comes from Europe,” I explained, “a friend¹ makes them herself. The collar is self-locking, and I have the key. When you put it on, you’re committed until I release you.”

“And you will release me?” she asked with a small voice.

I shrugged matter-of-factly: “We have a deal: One week. Before that, you can call it quits, but that’ll be final. I don’t play casual games. Let’s be clear: Until we’re done—while you wear my collar—you’re mine, and I’ll do what I want with you—within your limits. Understood?”

5 gulped and nodded. She hesitated for a few seconds, lost in thoughts and swirling emotions. Then, after gritting her teeth, she snapped the metal ring around her neck. The lock engaged with a satisfyingly solid click.

“Good girl!” I patted the soft inner side of her thigh. 5’s leg twitched when my hand slid a bit higher, confidently stroking the skin under the hem of her skirt. “Now let’s go home, shall we?”

 

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[Whitehaven] Rachel's Adventure 1 (aj)
Rachel stared ahead, embarrassed beyond measure. Concentrating on taking one step at a time, she tried to ignore everything around her.

Not enough that she was still barely clothed, she now wore a heavy steel collar, and was being led on a leash. Rachel clung to the hope that it couldn’t be far to walk. Sir had probably come by car and must have parked nearby. At least that was what she fervently prayed for.

At the same time, she shivered in excitement. She was a collared slave girl, being led by her master. The situation still did not feel real, but at the same time, the rough pavement under her bare feet felt very real, as did the heavy metal enclosing her throat.

* * *

Now that I had the girl on a leash, I led 5 on a leisurely stroll through the neighbourhood. We could have reached the parking lot in five minutes, but I kept sauntering along the roads for half an hour or so. From time to time, especially when a passerby stared at us, I heard a quiet whimper behind me, which made me smile.

 

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[Whitehaven] Rachel's Adventure 1 (ak)
In a particularly dirty alley, I stopped and dropped two small brightly coloured packages on the ground. With a slight smile, I said: “Oops! Looks like I dropped some candy. Please pick it up for me. You may eat it as a reward.”

5 stared at me with veiled, troubled eyes, swallowed nervously, then she bent down and did what I ordered her to do. It was obvious how it bothered her doing that, lightly dressed as she was.

 

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[Whitehaven] Rachel's Adventure 1 (al)

When Rachel entered Sir Whitehaven’s mansion, she began to understand how he could afford to hold slaves as a full-time hobby: This was the dwelling of someone who did not have to work for a living.

Sir Whitehaven pointed to a door at the other side of the foyer and explained: “Slave quarters over there. 3 will take you downstairs and get you ready for the interview. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Rachel only partially listened. She was distracted by 3. The red-headed slave girl had exchanged a radiant smile of greeting with her master before prostrating herself at his feet. Despite the apparent lack of intimacy, Rachel sensed a strong bond between them.

When Sir Whitehaven’s words sank into Rachel’s mind, she looked up startled. Interview? What awaited her now?