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Sexual submission in the underwear dept.

I was no longer quite faking it. Marsha rushed forward to help me undress. "I'll have you fitted out like a proper dom in no time," she said. Her hands were all over me as my nubile body was exposed. I stopped competing with her and let her strip me.

The Professor stood naked before me with his head bowed. He had a superb body. His broad, muscular chest was covered with a thick carpet of hair that thinned across his belly and thickened again in the pubic region. An enormous cock nine inches in length stuck out from the pubic bush. I had never seen such a magnificent fucker. The head was the size of the apples that I had picked from the trees back on the farm. My cunt was not deep enough to take it all - no cunt was - but what fun it would be to try!

Marsha cinched a black girdle around my narrow waist to make it even narrower. The garment accented my full tits and the flare of my hips. Glossy black knee-high boots completed my outfit. I stood in front of a mirror and admired myself. For the first time in my life, I felt in control of my destiny.

"You are the best yet," Marsha said. "You'll make a superb dominatrix. I made an excellent living beating men, and you will, too, if you choose to do so. Your training will begin now. You have everything you need. Enjoy yourself, darling." She kissed me directly on the lips. It wasn't like any kiss I had had from men. It was soft and warm. Our tongues touched briefly before I pulled away. There was no doubt in my mind that Marsha would be my first lesbian lover.

Marsha pressed a button on the wall and a rope with two manacles hanging from it descended from the ceiling. "I suggest you string him up first," Marsha said. "That's always a good place to start." I ordered my slave to stand beneath the rope. As I placed the manacles on his wrists, his enormous cock brushed my belly. I took the fat member in my hand and rubbed the wet tip up and down my slit and across my swollen clit. "Oh, thank you, Mistress," he whimpered. That earned him a slap across the face. "You will not speak unless spoken to, slave. Do you understand?"

I fetched a set of nipple clamps from the table and tried to attach them to his nipples. Nothing turns me off faster than small nipples on a man, so I was pleased to see that his were as big as my own. "You have to get them hard first, dear," Marsha said. "Let me show you how." She picked up the riding crop that I had used earlier and gently stroked the leather tip up and down across her husband's nipple. She suddenly drew the crop back and landed a stinging blow directly on the nipple. She repeated that several times until her husband's nipple had swollen to an inch in length. I quickly placed the clamp on the brown nub and screwed it down until he sucked in his breath and gritted his teeth. I took the crop from Marsha and tortured the other nipple the way she had shown me. The professor's manly chest was soon adorned with two steel clamps connected by a slender chain.

I cinched a dog collar around his neck and a smaller collar around his cock and balls. I roughly shoved a red ballgag into his mouth and tightened the straps at the back. "May I suggest leg weights, dear?" Marsha said. "They will keep him from flailing about to ease the pain of the whipping." I strapped the twenty-pound weights to his ankles and pressed the red "ON" button on the wall. The Professor hung suspended a foot above the floor, totally at my mercy.

I took Marsha's hand and led her in front of her husband.

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