Cristina


Introduction
The Slave

My name is Cristina, and I am a slave. I like the sound of this word, I 
like the fact that everybody knows what I am. Becoming a good slave is 
a long and difficult process, but now that my Masters have reduced me 
to an obedient and submissive pet, I am quite proud of myself. They 
have just given me a ring, and in less than one hour they will be home 
with their guests.

I have prepared myself in the way ordained by Sara, my divine Mistress. 
I have put on my chambermaid's outfit, which consists of a dress in 
black stretch fabric, with short puffy sleeves. The neckline is cut 
very low in front, and it is worn in such a way that all the upper 
portion of my big breasts is left on display, down to the very tips of 
my nipples. The pleated skirt is short enough to leave my buttocks bare 
to mid-height, and in front, my whole pubic mound is fully uncovered; 
of course I wear it without any panties, since intimate undergarments 
are allowed only during my periods. The outfit also includes a tiny 
apron, no larger than a handkerchief, and a white chambermaid's 
headdress. My legs are sheathed in black self-sustaining stockings, and 
I wear black shoes with 7" high heels, fastened at the ankles with thin 
thongs adorned with golden buckles. Naturally, as always, I also wear 
my tight-fitting collar of black leather, two inches wide, fitted with 
a gleaming metallic ring in front. Then some powder on my face, with 
water-resistant eye make-up. I take care first of all to stand before a 
mirror and to give myself a quick appraisal: I have to admit I am quite 
beautiful, especially between the skirt and the shoes, where my 
carefully depilated little pussy is well displayed by my clothing. I 
like its pink colour, almost red due to the treatment it received 
yesterday evening. It thus is the same colour as the other hole, which 
is well open like my Master prefers it to be; I have only to bow 
forward, ever so slightly, for it to yawn like a lascivious hungry 
mouth, which will be filled to its content in very little time. 
Everything is ready for the dinner; the house is spotlessly clean and I can afford a rest of a few minutes, sprawled on the cushions in my corner of the room, what my Masters call "the doghouse".I am aroused by the thought of what will be done to me tonight, even though the only thing I know is that Klaus and Sara want to make use of me along with two other Masters.
I find myself, for awhile, fantasizing about who they may be, what they may like... My cunt is sopping wet, and I run to the bathroom, cleaning myself while trying to think of something else and to fight the urge to masturbate. Back from the bathroom, I write down my bout of excitation on the Reporting Ledger: it already is the third such entry in one day, and I know my Masters will be quite angry at the loss of face they will have to endure in front of their friends on account of me. I would almost have liked to cancel what I had just written, but the ink is indelible, and anyway, I am under quite clear instructions to write down every single one of my infractions. Back in the kitchen, despite my efforts to direct my thoughts to other subjects, I could not help going over the beginning of my adventure.
Chapter One
The Lover

There is no way I could ever forget the date: it was on the day of my 
eighteenth birthday. I had spent almost every day during the past two 
years fighting with my folks, who never once missed an opportunity to 
remind me that "as long as you live in our home..." But at long last, I 
was free. Adult, and free. At long last I was in a position to do 
whatever I wanted to, without any interference from them, and that is 
exactly what I did. On the previous night, I had locked myself in my 
room and I had stuffed two big suitcases with my things: some clothing, 
letters, keepsakes... The bare minimum. I bore no affection towards 
that house or any of its inhabitants. At that time we had only just 
moved to Verona, so I had no friends and no considerations which could 
have prevented my decision to leave everything and start a new life. I 
moved out early in the morning, and after a stop at an automatic teller 
machine to withdraw some money, I headed straight to the station. I 
stayed for some time in Milan with a friend of mine: a lot of people 
would call at his house, most of them North Europeans from the 
underground scene. One of them was a Dutch photographer, a woman named 
Katja, who at 25 was a firmly committed lesbian, with a beautiful face 
and a sex drive of almost nymphomaniac magnitude. I had never made love 
with a woman before, but it took her less than one evening to convert 
me. I was not in love with her, but she succeeded in getting me aroused 
from the first minute, and then to make me come in ways i had never 
suspected. Every time she touched me or she made me do something I just 
melted away, and when she went back to the Netherlands, I needed only 
one instant to make my mind I would accept her invitation to follow 
her.

The flight to Rotterdam was an incredible experience: as soon as we has 
gone through the metal detectors of the airport, Katja led me to the 
ladies' room, locked us in a booth and fitted me with one of those 
unbelievable sex toys she seemed to pack by the dozen in her large 
shoulder bag. This one was an object fashioned from soft pink rubber, 
molded in the shape of a heart. A cylinder about 7" long and more than 
1" thick protruded from its center, also molded in pink rubber, and 
studded with small bumps in soft rubber like the heart. Katja spent a 
brief moment making my juices flow, so as to be able to insert the 
whole device between my legs: she had backed me against the wall, and 
while she swirled her tongue to the inner depths of my throat, she 
blindly rummaged with the rubber heart, until she was satisfied it was 
in total contact with the skin of my cunt. These strange studs were 
massaging me like minute fingers. One of them was pressing itself 
exactly against my clitoris; still others had insinuated themselves in 
the fold between my bigger lips and my inner lips, and I had an 
overwhelming sensation of being licked everywhere by thousands of sharp 
tongues. However, Katja let go of me before I could reach a climax. She 
put my panties back on, and she managed to thread an electric wire, 
which I had not seen before and which protruded from the external face 
of the device, so that it ran under my clothes, going out of my panty 
hose and running inside my left sleeve, where it eventually was let out 
at the wrist. A small white box was hanging from its end, and my lover 
told me not to touch it. We brought some order to our clothes, and we 
went out together in the airport, like two good friends, holding each 
other's hand. In this manner, Katja was able to conceal the white box 
in her right hand, and I felt quite strange, with that device deep 
inside my cunt and with that wire which felt like a leash.

It's only when the plane started its engines that I got wise to my 
friend's little game. Katja looked straight into my eyes, and toggling 
a switch on the box, she made the device inside me start vibrating. It 
was all I could do not to scream my lungs out under the sudden 
sensation, and she kept grinning her perverted smile, which I had 
already learned to know. I abandoned myself to her capricious whims, 
and for the whole trip, the vibrator was quiet for only the briefest 
moments. Katja made me come innumerable times, while I sweated 
copiously and uttered sounds which could not leave the passengers in 
the adjacent seats in the slightest doubt as to their origin. A middle-
aged gentleman thus stood up from his seat to ask a question from my 
friend. The question was in Dutch, but I had no difficulty in 
understanding the answer: Katja showed her command box to the man, and 
she turned the regulating switch to its highest setting. I blushed, I 
tried to turn away towards the window, but there was nothing I could do 
to stop squirming and thrashing about in the most incriminating manner, 
until the man went away, his curiosity satisfied. I could not bring 
myself to be angry with my friend though, since she had succeeded once 
more in making me come, tabling in this occasion upon my exhibitionism....
CONTINUE STORY