Leanne's O Fantasy

Leanne’s O Fantasy

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

Leanne’s Branding

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

“Are you ever going to brand me?” Leanne asked me, not long after she had given up her safe word (but before she had asked me to crucify her).

I raised my eyebrows but didn’t say anything. Branding was a turn on. But it had really only been a fantasy until now. I had never branded anybody, even though I had written about it.

“Like in the Story of O.” Leanne said. I had read the Story of O, of course, and it was one of those rarest of things: a well-written pornographic novel. I still had my copy of it. But Leanne had never borrowed my copy. She must have read it some time in the past. I supposed that I shouldn’t be surprised. She liked stories of women suffering, as long as she could imagine herself in the place of the victim.

“O has her cunt whipped before being branded.” I said, as I began to get an erection, with just the idea of putting some permanent mark on Leanne’s pale flesh.

“Yes please, master.” her eyes shining bright. I had whipped her cunt in the past, of course, but not as severely as in the novel. She had come close to cumming from several of those lashings in the past.

“O has permanent rings put through her cunt lips, as well.” I said. “She has medals hanging from them, identifying her as a slave. Would you…”

“Yes please, master.” Leanne said. I could tell that she was turned on, and thinking with her clit, rather than her brain. She had a life outside of being a slave 9at the time that this story takes place) and she would not normally have asked for something which might have been problematic for her vanilla life.

“Very well.” I said. “The first part will be the piercing. I will have three rings put through each outer cunt lip. When the holes have healed, I will give you a severe cunt whipping and then brand you.”

I had long considered having permanent rings through her cunt. I could use them to spread her cunt open, revealing the softness within.

“Thank you, master.” Leanne said.

“Don’t thank me yet.” I said. “Having a brand on your backside may make it problematic for some tortures.”

“Aren’t you going to brand my breasts, as well?” Leanne asked throatily (this story took place after I had read Branding Brenda’s Breasts to her).

“Just the backside, for now.” I said. Honestly, she was incorrigible. “But, because of that, there is a certain device which I don’t think that I’d be able to use, without risking spoiling the branding.”

I went and fetched the Paddle. It was a spiked wooden paddle, with lots of little needles on one side. The needles were bout half an inch long. One swipe of the Paddle would turn somebody’s backside into hamburger. The Paddle, until now, had just been for show. I had never intended to use it. It had just been intended to inspire fear in a slave.

Leanne’s eyes widened. But she didn’t say anything. All that she did was lie on her front on the bondage table – we were in the playroom –with her arse at the end, so that she was supported, but I could hit every portion of her arse with the cruel paddle.

I pulled the paddle back, pausing with it raised above my head. Leanne looked back, over her shoulder. She looked a little nervous. I didn’t blame her.

I brought the paddle down, with enough strength that all of the needles would penetrate her milky skin.

Splatt!

Leanne screamed, despite having been prepared for the pain. But she somehow managed to hold her position. She was magnificent. Any other sub I’d had in the past would have been climbing the walls, if I’d just hit them with the fearsome thing which I held in my hand.

I’d brought the paddle down on her left but cheek. Now it was time to bring it down on her right.

Splatt! Leanne screamed again, and swore under her breath. Or maybe it was an imprecation to Jesus, I don’t know. I took the paddle away. I could see little bits of blood leaking out of where the needles had pierced her big backside.

Then Leanne did something which I had not expected. She turned over on her back, presenting her big tits to me.

“Full strength, Master Crowley.” Leanne whispered. I couldn’t refuse, without looking weak, and no master can afford to look weak before their slave. But I began to wonder who was dominating whom.

I raised the paddle back, above my head. Leanne looked at it with fear, her eyes wide, taking only small breaths. I brought it down with all of the strength in my hand. Another splat sound, and another scream from Leanne. I pulled the paddle away. I could see the pink imprint where it had struck her tit. I could see a lot of little holes, some of them already leaking the red stuff. But Leanne did not pull away. If anything she arched her back more.

I brought the paddle down on her other tit. Leanne screamed, and writhed. And we were done.

A couple of weeks later I had Leanne pierced. I didn’t do it myself. I was fine with temporary, play piercing, but I wanted the rings to be in the correct place. So we went to a professional, a woman I knew who went by the name of Carmilla (although I suspected that she had not been born with that name.

Carmilla was a good friend, but not somebody who I had ever played around with, mainly due to the fact that Carmilla was a raging lesbian.

I had Leanne wear a long coat with nothing underneath for the trip to the piercer. It was clear that Leanne was not happy. Leanne was not the least bit lesbian, and I could tell that she was not looking forward to having her bits handled by a woman. But I reminded her that she had no safe word, and no limits. She could not say no. Leanne did not try to resist. This would be just one more humiliation for her. She didn’t know how the session would end.

When we got to Carmilla’s business she closed up the place, putting a Closed sign on the door. We were not to be disturbed. Carmilla was around forty years old, with spiky black hair, very tight ripped jeans, and a sleeveless black tee shirt proclaiming her love for a band called the Genitorturers. Her ears were multiply pierced, there was a stud through one eyebrow, and a ring through her nose. Her arms were absolutely covered with tattoos.

“You want three rings through each outer labia?” Carmilla asked me. She totally ignored Leanne, as though my slave was nothing more than an object, whose wishes did not matter at all.

“Yes. I want them to be quite heavy, so as to pull the labia down a bit. I have medals on order which I will be attaching to the slave’s cunt rings, pulling her lips down even further.”

“Have her take her coat off.” Carmilla said. I took Leanne’s coat. She was entirely naked underneath, of course. I hung the coat up, then got out my mobile phone. I was going to record this.

What Leanne didn’t know was that I recorded everything in the playroom. There was a hidden camera which activated when it sensed movement. I had recorded everything which had ever occurred in there – not just Leanne, but the three submissives I had known before her. I had terabytes of stuff on the hard drive of my computer.

Leanne got into the reclining chair, spreading her legs. Carmilla began to chat, not to Leanne, but to me. In fact she chatted all of the way through the process.

“Do you want her nipples done?” Carmilla asked, as she sat on a low stool opposite Leanne’s hairless, naked cunt.

“Not at the moment.” I said. “I like them free of rings so that they don’t get entangled with any whips when I whip her tits. I may have her nipples done at a later date. If I do, then it will be with rings which I can take out. But I want these cunt rings to be permanent.”

“Understood. What about tattoos? It is a shame for such a blank canvas to go to waste.”

“I may have her tattooed at a later date.” I said, in an offhand manner, as though we were discussing the weather. Despite everything which she had done in the past, Leanne was already blushing, humiliated by all of this talk about her.

“But I can’t decide just what to have done, and where. Any sort of tattoo which would be visible is out of question at the moment, as Leanne has a job in her vanilla life. I have thought about having her tattooed with the word dogslut somewhere. But I don’t have a dog yet, so that might be something for the future.”

“So you intend to turn her into a dog slut?” Carmilla asked. Carmilla had already marked out where the six holes would go. She had a piercing gun, which would make a suitable hole for the rings.

One lip was pierced, and Leanne yelped, although she had suffered much more pain in the past. Carmilla produced a large, metal ring. She showed it to me. I could see that it was of a sort which had some kind of internal mechanism so that, when the ends were pressed together, the ring could not be undone. It meant that no heat would need to be applied to seal the ring.

“Perhaps.” I said. “I find seeing a girl suck of a dog to be very arousing, and something which I would like to see in real life, rather than just on video.”

The ring was snapped shut, forever sealing it through Leanne’s labia. I recorded a hole being made opposite, on the other lip. Another little yelp from Leanne.

“Or I might have her tattooed with the words lesbian toilet slut somewhere.”

“Uhuh. And is she a lesbian toilet slut?”

“Not yet.” I said. But that is definitely going on one of the medals which will be hanging from her rings. And I would love to see some dominant woman pissing in her mouth, and Leanne swallowing it all.”

“Well, we’ll have to see what we can do about that later.” Carmilla said. Leanne began to look concerned. But I ignored her.

Another ring went into her labia. Another hole was pierced. And so on, until Leanne had all six rings through her cunt.

“Now it’s time for payment.” Carmilla said. She took off her boots, and then began easing her jeans down her legs. That was not easy, as they were so tight, almost a second skin.

“Leanne, you have abandoned your safe word, and all resistance with it. You are to do whatever Carmilla asks, or you will be banished from my presence forever.”

Leanne looked mortified. She now knew what was going to happen. But she did not refuse. This was just another humiliating thing (in her mind) which she had to endure.

Carmilla finally got her jeans off, revealing that her legs were as tattooed as her arms, and that she didn’t wear knickers. Carmilla had three rings through each outer cunt lip, but smaller than the ones on Leanne. She had also, at some stage, had her clitoral hood removed. Her clit, fully erect, was on display. Her clit, though erect, was not as large as Leanne’s when Leanne was not aroused. Carmilla also had a bar right at the very base of her clit, going all of the way through, and a tattoo of a bright orange arrow pointing at her cunt. The arrow was broad and, inside, in black italic words, was the instruction to lick here.

Carmilla sat back on the low stool which she had been sitting on to pierce Leanne. She spread her legs wide, her hot cunt at the edge of the seat.

“Get your tongue in here, slut!” Carmilla commanded. Leanne did not exactly look happy about the idea of lesbian sex. She looked at me, but I nodded. Leanne got down on all fours, and began to hesitantly lick Carmilla’s cunt.

“Come on, better than that, slut.” Carmilla sneered. “Put some gusto into it.”

Leanne licked with a little bit more vim, not wanting to displease Carmilla, because that would displease me. By Leanne’s red face I could tell that she found licking another woman to be very humiliating. Good. I wanted her to be humiliated. I wanted there to be no act which Leanne would not do, the more humiliating and disgusting the better. A slave’s ego had to be broken, for them to become a true submissive. Leanne just being a masochist was not good enough for me.

I had taped all of Leanne’s piercing on my mobile phone, and I taped all of this. It was going to go on my computer, with all of the stuff I had secretly recorded.

I think Carmilla got off on humiliating Leanne, as well, and that meant that it did not take her long to cum. But Carmilla was not quite finished.

“Stay on your knees.” Carmilla commanded. “I want you to cover my pisshole with your mouth. You’d better make a good seal, as I don’t want piss all over the floor. Just be glad that I don’t need to take a dump.”

Leanne did as instructed. I could see her throat swallow, as Carmilla relaxed and let her piss into Leanne’s mouth.

“That’s a good little toilet slut.” Carmilla said, holding Leanne’s head to her crotch. “If you ever want that tattoo, Crowley, then lend me Leanne for a day. I’ve got some girlfriend’s who would love to piss down Leanne’s throat.”

“If I ever get Leanne tattooed then you can have her for a whole day, for a no limits session.” I said. “Leanne begged me to let her get rid of her safe word, and eventually I did, after she survived an endurance torture session. She has no limits now. But if I lend her to you I have some limits: nothing permanent. No tattooing beyond what is agreed, no branding or scarification, no cutting bits off.”

Carmilla smiled. That gave her, and her friends, a hell of a lot of leeway. She finished pissing in Leanne’s mouth, and I took Leanne home.

I gave Leanne a few weeks of rest, to allow her piercings to fully heel. During that time we had a little Vanilla play, with me using Leanne’s arsehole and mouth. But no torture – and I could see that Leanne was beginning to get desperate to survive some more intense pain. Every day she asked me when her cunt whipping would be, and I had to say that it would be a few more days.

Eventually, though, the day came. One of the reasons why I had decided that it was the day was that the medals had come, and Leanne would be wearing them in her rings when the whipping was over.

“Today I am going to whip your cunt, Leanne.” I said, at breakfast. “I will be merciless, and I intend to continue until my arm is too tired to whip you anymore.”

As to the branding, that would come, but not just yet. I wanted the brands to be special.

I tied Leanne in the dungeon, to what I called my bondage table. She was spread out in a tight X, as tight as I could get, as I didn’t want her moving around too much. There was a leather-covered cushion – yes, you can buy those – under her arse, pushing up her pelvis a bit. Leanne was naked apart from a padded blindfold. I didn’t want her to be able to anticipate the strokes, or to know when they were coming. She was not gagged. I wanted to hear her scream, as no noise would escape the dungeon. I had tested that, in the past, playing Ace of Spades by Motorhead at full volume.

I hooked weights to each of the six rings piercing her cuntlips. The weights were on strings which we long enough so that I could have them dangle over the side of the table. Leanne moaned, as I kept adding weights until her lips were pulled apart as far as they would go. Any more weight and they might begin to tear, which I didn’t want. But the weights pulled her open as far as she had ever been. I could see right up her pink cunt. And it was glittering wet with arousal, as she thought of the savage torture to come. I wondered whether Leanne was not just an extreme masochist, but also an algolagnic – a person whose nervous signals were mixed up, so that pain did not cause her only pain, but also pleasure, at the same time. If so, then she was really going to like this whipping.

By then I had a raging erection, and I had to resist just sinking into her hot wet cunt, and fucking her until I came. No, this was supposed to be like the whipping of O, and there had been no rape of O before the whipping had begun, if I was recalling the book correctly.

I took down a little rubber whip, which I knew that I could use full strength without cutting Leanne, even when applied to her cunt. Oh, it could cause pain, but she would not end up mutilated. Using this rubber whip I could keep going until my arm got tired.

I gave a few practice swings through the air. Leanne moved her head to one side. She could hear it swing through the air. I looked down, and I could see her big red clit poking out from her clit hood, fully erect. One day I’d do something about the clit hood, just so Leanne’s clit would be easier to torture. But not today.

The first blow was not too hard. It was to Leanne’s pubic mound. It made Leanne jump, and she made a little yelp of pain. The little whip did not even leave a mark.

I whipped all around Leanne’s wide open cunt, not yet striking the labia, but reddening the skin around them. Just a little redness, such as you might get from a spanking. No injury to the flesh. I whipped the area for a long time. Then I stopped. I went out of the room, as quietly, as I could, leaving Leanne not knowing what was going on.

I got myself a coffee. I took time drinking it. Then I went back to Leanne, again as quietly as I could. I could see the inside of her cunt glistening with arousal.

Without warning I whipped down on Leanne’s left labia. Not expecting the sudden pain she screamed into the gag. I didn’t say anything. I worked over her stretched labia, whipping them over and over, until they were purple and swollen. They looked very sensitive to the touch. I could almost feel the heat radiating off them. I had the desire to plunge my hard cock between those swollen lips. But I had a job to do. Maybe when I had finished whipping her.

I paused again, going upstairs to have something to eat. I left Leanne tied up, contemplating the pain which she had already received, and the greater pain which she still had to come. I enjoyed a cooked meal while Leanne went hungry.

Later the whipping was resumed. This time I aimed for Leanne’s clit. Using the small whip I was able to hit it every time. Each stroke was delivered with full force. Each stroke hit the red clit as it poked out from under its hood. Soon the clit was hard and purple, very swollen. Its size pushed back the clit hood. It was now a much bigger target. I hit it over and over, as Leanne screamed all around the gag. I only stopped when my arm began to get tired.

I had another pause, and another coffee, to give Leanne the chance to recover a little. Then I commenced the highlight of the whipping – the beating of the inside of Leanne’s cunt.

The first strike caused her to go rigid, as though I had run an electric shock through her, and I thought, for a second, that I had gone too far. But there was no blood, even though the stroke had been full force. I carried on the beating of the walls of her cunt, turning them bruised and purple and puffy. I only stopped when Leanne fainted, something which was now a very rare occurrence.

Smelling salts brought her back to consciousness. Despite being so widely spread, the whipping had caused Leanne’s cunt flesh to become so puffy as to almost close up.

I could not resist the beaten cunt before me. I knew that to fuck Leanne’s cunt now, after the beating, would be very painful for her. I undressed fully, and slowly forced my cock into her cunt, for the very first time. Leanne moaned as I raped her cunt. She felt as tight as a virgin.

It did not take me long to cum. And, for the first and only time, I came inside Leanne’s cunt.

So ended my enactment of Leanne’s O fantasy.

The end.