Leanne Sacrifices Her Clit

Leanne Sacrifices Her Clit

This is a story featuring my slave Leanne. The stories can be read and enjoyed separately, so I have not included them in part of a large novel. But if you want to read them in the order in which they occurred it is this order (when I have completed writing the stories):

Playing with Leanne I

Playing with Leanne II: Tweezers

Playing with Leanne III: Red Hot Needles

Leanne Gives Up Her Safe Word

Leanne’s O Fantasy

The Crucifixion of Leanne

Leanne Sacrifices Her Clit

Leanne Moves In

Some of the tales do not really feature in a chronological order, because some of the events overlapped with some of the events above. These stories, so far, are detailed below. And some of the stories I simply cannot recall the correct chronology.

Leanne the Latex Nun

Reading to Leanne / Leanne Reading

Leanne Sacrifices Her Clit

“Master, I want you to cut my clit off.” Leanne said. Leanne was on her knees in front of me, having just sucked off my cock. Strings of white sperm were slowly sliding down her face.

“What?” I asked, being a little distracted.

“Master, I want you to cut off my clit.” Leanne repeated. “I want it to be about your pleasure, from now on. I seek my own pleasure, and that is a distraction.”

“I will… consider your request.” I said, not willing to accede to such a mutilation. I like Leanne’s clit. It was the biggest I had seen on a girl. When it was fully engorged it was the size of a cherry tomato, and just as red. It was wonderful to torture. “Now go home. Do not forget to send a selfie showing that you left the spunk on your face all of the way home.”

“Yes, master.” Leanne said. She left my home, walking down to her car wearing nothing but stockings and suspenders. From my door I watched her fat arse as it swung from side to side, the fleshy buttocks thoroughly marked by an encounter with an old, whippy car aerial. When she had first come to see me she had almost balked at nudity outside of my house. But now it did not phase her at all. She had come a long way. But would losing her clit be a step too far in the path which we were walking together?

I spent a long time thinking about what Leanne had said. While cutting off somebody’s clit, or nipples, occurred in a lot of stories, I didn’t want to do it in real life. But I knew that Leanne was serious about it. My trouble, though, was not just the prospect of mutilating my slave, but the worry that if she lost her clit that she would lose interest in coming to see me. She might want to be permanently denied orgasms in a fantasy of hers. But she had such fantasies because she was such a sexual character. Lose her clit and she might lose a lot of her masochistic impetus, and I didn’t want that.

In the end I came up with a compromise: I would stop Leanne from having orgasms without destroying her clit – or, at least, without destroying it with one swift stroke of a scalpel blade. Besides, for her to get aroused and to never get to cum was what she was fantasising about, and I felt that I could achieve that without any mutilation.

In my stories I had written about a metal cup, a sort of chastity belt which went over a girl’s clit, to stop her from touching herself. I decided that I needed one in real life. But it was not the sort of thing which you could order on Etsy. I spent hours trawling through the internet, looking at lots of BDSM sites. Most people, when they search for something on the internet, only look at the first couple of pages, before giving up. I went through more than a hundred before I found what I was looking for. The only problem was that it was not from a UK address, but from some place based in the Netherlands. I didn’t trust that the item would be intercepted by our nosey customs people. The last thing which I wanted was to end up in the dock. But it wasn’t metal. It wouldn’t show up on a scanner at customs (I hoped). So, yes, I made a trip to the Netherlands to pick it up in person. I felt very nervous coming back into the UK. But I sailed through customs. I had a plan, and what I needed. All I needed was for Leanne to agree to the plan. And, despite that she had given up her safe word, her acquiescence was still important to me.

The next time that Leanne came to see me I gave Leanne my answer.

“Slave, I have thought hard about your request for the removal of your clitoris.” I said. “But it is not your clitoris to remove. It is mine. I own you, body and soul. The clitoris is the single most sensitive part of a woman’s body. Yes, it can bring pleasure, but it can also bring pain. What gives you the right to deny me that chance of torturing your clit?”

“Sorry. Master Crowley.” Leanne said, as she stared at the floor.

“However, I am an understanding master.” I said. “I have devised a system whereby all the pleasure will be mine only. You will be denied orgasms. From now on your clitoris will only be about delivering pain to you. That will be its sole purpose. Over months, and perhaps years to come, I will torture your clit, until there is nothing left to torture. It will be shocked, pierced, and burned. I will use cigarettes on it, like I know that you have fantasised about. I will keep burning your clit until it is covered with scar tissue, and you have lost surface feeling. Then I will use a scalpel to remove the surface scars, revealing the new flesh beneath. You have a big clit, the biggest that I have ever seen, and I should be able to do such tortures many, many times before your clit is finally gone.

“I know that you frig yourself silly at home, thinking about interrogation scenes and torture. That will be denied to you. I have acquired a form of chastity belt, which fits a small cup over your clit. That belt will deny you any access to your clit. The belt will only be removed when you come to see me.”

I showed her the belt. It was made from a sort of plastic and other neutral materials. There was no metal on it. A person could wear the belt in a shower without worrying about it going rusty. A person could almost wear it forever.

“Thank you, Master Crowley.” Leanne said. “Will you torture my clit now? I need to be put in the belt.”

I did not refuse her request. I didn’t have any cigarettes as yet, as I don’t smoke. I’d have to get some mechanical smoker for those. But I had enough other stuff. We spent a few lovely hours, with me putting chilli sauce on Leanne’s clit, abrading the swollen nub with fine sandpaper, sticking needles in it, and then, for an extended period, sending electricity through the needles. Afterwards I put Leanne in the clit cup, and she thanked me by sucking me off. Of course I came all over her face, before pissing down her throat. She thanked me, and went home, the spunk dripping off her face.

I could not help feeling that, with her now denied the possibility of orgasms, that some new boundary had been crossed. And I couldn’t decide whether or not it was a good thing.

I wondered if I could get hold of a live wasp…

The End.