A Slave's Diary - Part 11
By Leslie McCormick
A female bodybuilder becomes a sex slave to a harsh mistress



Part Eleven



 Our house sat at the end of a cul-de-sac, well removed from the other 
houses on the street.  Originally, the developer meant to fill in the 
intervening space with additional houses once his cash flow improved, 
but the bad combination of a depressed economy and reckless investments 
drove him into bankruptcy.  Uncle Mickey was a privacy fanatic, and when 
he and Aunt Jennifer bought the house, they insisted that a tall wall of 
privacy hedges be built around the part of the property that fronted the 
street.  This was the area that Aunt Jennifer used for sunbathing, and 
it was also the place where Mary Ellen trained Aunt Jennifer when the 
weather was warm.  Our driveway was a long, curving one that circled the 
house, and could fit fifteen to twenty cars, depending on how carefully 
people parked. 
 When the guests began arriving, I was glad that no one but us could see 
them. 
 They were all Mary Ellen's friends, and that meant that they all shared 
her perverse lifestyle.  This was a "anything goes" party, and they 
dressed according to their tastes and fetishes.  Twenty people had been 
invited.  There were slightly more men than woman.  Each one of them was 
dressed in some sort of costume. 
 The women seemed more daring than the men.  Nearly all of them arrived 
with bared breasts.  Many of the women were pierced, and the profusion 
of body jewelry was simply amazing.  They wore spike-heeled shoes or 
boots or platform shoes with elaborate buckles and straps.  Some wore 
nylons, others Spandex, and still others leather.  They wore revealing 
tops, or simply no tops at all.  All of them wore extensive makeup, with 
glittering sparkles and rhinestone studs in prominent display.  I 
noticed all that later in the evening.  What I noticed first was how 
stunningly beautiful they all were. 
 As a homely sixteen year old, I was obsessed by beauty.  I bought all 
the magazines, and followed all the tips and techniques they suggested, 
but nothing I did was satisfactory.  My features are large, and while 
I'm not ugly, no one would accuse me of being pretty.  I was self-
conscious about that, and did everything I could to make myself more 
attractive. 
 These women looked like cover girl models, and I was astounded that 
women with looks like theirs would be involved in what I still thought 
of as deviant behavior. 
 The men weren't as daring as the women, though they too flaunted what 
they had.  They seemed to favor chains and leather, and there were a 
profusion of outfits featuring cowboy-style chaps that tied about the 
waist and left the groin area exposed.  One person, a short, though 
solidly-built man, wore a triple cock ring, and had a small weight 
dangling from the head of his pierced penis. 
 They were all ease with one another, and it was easy to see that they 
all knew each other.  Mary Ellen moved through the crowd, greeting 
people.  She kissed the men and women alike, and her hands darted over 
their bodies, caressing testicles, pinching nipples, and squeezing 
buttocks. 
 It wasn't long before the party was in full swing.  An electrician had 
strung lights across the yard, and the guests moved from the house to 
the outside with equal ease.  The liquor and drugs flowed freely, and 
before long, all inhibitions had been tossed aside. 
 About midway through the evening, Mary Ellen took the microphone from 
the DJ, and called for quiet.  In the light, her body was slick with 
moisture, it being a warm evening.  I stood near her, and watched as the 
muscles flexed beneath her elastic skin, and I remember thinking that I 
wanted my body to look like hers.  It was the first time that I 
seriously thought about bodybuilding. 
 "As all of you know, I've been training a slave."  There was an 
appreciative murmur from the crowd.  Two women, standing arm-in-arm near 
me, whispered to each other, and then giggled loudly. 
 "Tonight is her public debut," Mary Ellen said.  "She is her for your 
pleasure.  You can do anything you like with her, except inflict 
permanent damage."  A laugh rose from the gathering.  "I think you'll 
find her...accommodating.  Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Jennifer 
McCormick." 
 Aunt Jennifer emerged from the house.  I was stunned at her appearance.  
By now, I used to seeing her in ropes and chains, but her physical 
appearance hadn’t changed all that much.  But for this party, Mary Ellen 
had transformed her.  The hair on her head, which was normally long and 
straight, had been shorn off and dyed.  Only about an inch long in 
length, it was a vivid electric blue.  Her eyebrows had been plucked, 
and sweeping arched ones drawn in their place.  Dark liner outlined her 
eyes.  Her mouth was painted with a plum-colored lipstick, and her lower 
lip had been pierced through.  There was a leather collar around her 
neck that had D-rings on either side.  Chains ran from the rings to 
thumbscrew clamps that squeezed her nipples.  The chains were too short 
to reach comfortably.  It had the effect of pulling her tits up toward 
her chin.  Additional chains connected to her labia, spreading them 
apart, and exposing the inside of her pussy.  She looked totally unlike 
the sweet, shy and gentle woman I'd come to live with three years 
earlier.  There was a tightly-cinched corset around her torso.  Fishnet 
stockings were held up by garters, and she tottered on shoes that had 
long, ugly-looking spikes.  Her hands were cuffed behind her back.  She 
walked slowly down the steps leading from the raised porch until she 
stood beside Mary Ellen. 
 The guests moved closer to examine her.  Mary Ellen had insisted that 
Aunt Jennifer get breast implants, and her boobs were the subject of 
much discussion.  They were bigger than mine, though her nipples were 
still small.  Mary Ellen had recently discovered nipple extenders, but 
hadn't yet gotten the chance to try them out on Aunt Jennifer. 
 All the guests were impressed by her.  Aunt Jennifer's beauty shone 
through despite her garish makeup.  A few of the men came up to her, and 
began to fondle her.  She stood stoically, enduring their touch. I was 
brain-numbed by everything I'd been seeing, and to ease the shock, I 
began drinking.  The hired bartender mixed me a tasty beverage in a tall 
glass that fizzed and popped, and went down like fruit juice.  Before I 
realized it, I'd had too much, and was tipsy, and feeling lightheaded 
and carefree.  My memories of the remainder of the evening are fuzzy. 
 One woman was fascinated by the video cameras.  She followed the male 
photographer around, peppering him with questions.  He answered her 
patiently, although it was evident she was bothering him.  The woman 
insisted that she be filmed while she masturbated.  She said she wanted 
to make a present of the video to a friend who lived on the West Coast.  
The photographer offered to take her indoors, but she waved off the 
idea, and lay down in the grass in full view of the other guests.  Her 
companion gave her a long, thick, battery-powered dildo.  I thought she 
would use it in her cunt, but the woman lifted her legs and inserted the 
dildo into her anus.  The dildo was big and thick and black, and I was 
astounded by how far up her ass she managed to get it.  It took her less 
than five minutes to bring herself to an orgasm. 
 I wandered off.  A man knelt on the porch with his ass elevated while 
random people inserted objects into his ass.  I stood and watched as he 
took an ice cubes, olives, Bing cherries, a banana, and a cucumber.  The 
group of people around him was egging him on loudly, and was suggesting 
other objects to stick up his ass. 
 I had to pee.  An elegantly dressed woman sat on the edge of the tub.  
She wore a pale blue silk dress.  I told her that I had to use the 
facilities.  Smiling, she told me that she would be happy to be my 
toilet.  The import of what she said escaped me at first.  Languidly, 
she rose and positioned herself in front of the toilet.  She rested her 
head against the porcelain rim, and beckoned me forward.  I started to 
back away, but she reached out to capture my ankle.  My bladder was full 
to bursting.  It would take more time and energy to resist, so, after 
some initial hesitation, I shrugged my shoulders, and thought what the 
hell.  I raised my skirt, and pulled down my panties.  The woman’s hands 
were all over my legs and ass, pulling me into the correct position.  I 
squatted down over her.  I thought I would have trouble urinating, but I 
didn't.  I simply had to go too badly.  I pissed in her face.  The angle 
was exactly correct.  The stream splattered over her mouth and chin, and 
ran down the front of her dress.  I thought she’d be upset about her 
dress getting wet, but it seemed to make her ecstatically happy.  She 
moaned loudly, and moved her head to get as much of my urine into her 
mouth as she could.  When I was finished, I stepped away.  The woman 
plunged her hand up under her skirt, and began rubbing herself to a 
climax.  I left my panties lying on the bathroom floor, and went back 
outside and got myself another drink. 
 Two men were taking turns beating Aunt Jennifer with bamboo canes.  
They’d taken the cuffs from her wrists.  She was standing beneath the 
maple tree, her arms extended over her head, grasping a low-hanging 
branch.  The men worked on her front and rear, striking her with 
practiced skill.  It raised welts on her body from neck to knees.  It 
looked painful, but Aunt Jennifer didn’t seem to mind.  Her eyes were 
closed, and her head was thrown back.  An enigmatic smile played over 
her lips.  I suppose this was mild compared to some of the training Mary 
Ellen had put her through. 
 I walked off, looking for Mary Ellen.  I found her in the parlor.  She 
was enthusiastically servicing three men.  I stood in the doorway, 
watching while their rigid cocks plunged into her mouth, pussy and ass.  
There was come on Mary Ellen’s face and chest.  Somewhere along the way, 
she’d lost the miniature loops that had encircled her nipples. 
 I’d had enough for one day.  I finished what was in my glass, and then 
climbed the stairs to my bedroom.  Without bothering to undress, I lay 
down on my bed, closed my eyes, and fell asleep. 
 I was awakened by someone undressing me.  Hands pulled my skirt off.  
Another pair of hands was tearing at my blouse.  Fabric ripped loudly, 
and then, my bra was exposed.  Someone grabbed at it, trying to snap the 
clasp, but it held fast. 
 I was slow to react.  The alcohol hadn’t worn off, and I was still 
woozy and disjointed.  I knew I was being molested.  My mind screamed at 
me to defend myself, but the message never reached my arms and legs.  I 
couldn’t seem to make them work.  The room was dimly lit, but there was 
enough light to see that my attackers were a man and a woman. 
 The woman pushed my legs apart, exposing my pussy.  Without hesitation, 
she clamped her mouth on my gaping cunt, and began to lick me.  She used 
her tongue expertly, and before I knew it, my pussy was gushing.  The 
woman’s hands were under me, grasping my ass cheeks, pulling my lower 
body into her mouth.  I could feel her finger trying to insinuate itself 
into my tight asshole.  I moaned, and tried to struggle, but I was still 
lethargic, and my movements were slow and dream-like. 
 The man was naked from the waist down.  He had an enormous cock that 
jutted from his thatch of pubic hair like a pole.  It was ridged with 
veins, and the head was deep purple in color.  Clear fluid leaked 
steadily from the tip like a faucet, and I remember thinking that he 
would come the first moment someone touched his penis.  I couldn’t have 
been more wrong. 
 He roughly pulled me into position, dragging me until my head hung over 
the side of the bed.  With his thumbs, he exerted pressure against my 
jaw, forcing my mouth open.  When my mouth yawned wide, he rammed his 
cock into the opening, and began to fuck my face. 
 I was no virgin when it came to sucking cock.  Mary Ellen had taught me 
how, and she was the best teacher anyone could hope for in that regard.  
She demonstrated on life-like dildos, and on the men and boys she 
serviced.  She forced me to watch and to learn, and I’d spent hours of 
practice on things like bananas and fake cocks.  Once, she’d even had me 
suck one of her male friends, critiquing my performance while I sucked 
him off.  Yet, for all my practice, I was still a relative novice.  In 
addition, I’d never encountered a cock as big as the one that filled my 
mouth that night. 
 It banged against the back of my throat, activating my gag reflex.  I 
started to choke, and the feeling of panic I felt made me come alive.  I 
braced my hands against the hard wall of the man’s stomach.  With all my 
strength, I pushed him away.  His cock popped free of my mouth, but he 
still held tightly to my head. 
 “Stop fighting.  I paid for this,” he whispered hoarsely.  His cock 
hung over my face, twitching and jerking.  It spilled fluid onto my nose 
and lips.  “Your sister told me you could.  She said she showed you 
how.” 
 I was bewildered.  Had Mary Ellen sent these two to rape me while I 
slept?  I didn’t want to believe that, but some part of me acknowledged 
the truth of what the man said.  Knowing her as I did, I had no trouble 
believing that she’d offered me up to these two.  Mary Ellen’s only goal 
was sexual satisfaction.  She’d become indifferent to everything else.  
It was acute nymphomania combined with an obsessive interest in 
everything sexual.  She would sacrifice anything and anybody in order to 
achieve sexual satisfaction.  Aunt Jennifer was the first victim of Mary 
Ellen’s disorder, and now, I was to be the second.  How many others 
would there be? 
 The insight should have infuriated me.  Instead, I felt something 
inside of me break in two, and go sliding away.  There was a surge of 
emotion that made me want to cry, and then, in the next moment, it 
disappeared, leaving me empty.  I felt dead and lifeless. 
 Mary Ellen had said she loved me, but it had been a lie.  Her only 
reason for saying that had been to lull me into a false sense of 
security.  She’d parlayed my trust and affection into an opportunity to 
sell me to the highest bidder.  These two people were only going to be 
the first in a long line of strangers who would use my body.  Mary Ellen 
would get money, and a sexual kick out of prostituting me, while I’d get 
nothing more than the chance to be the object of strangers’ sexual 
fantasies. 
 The woman was still between my legs, but she’d raised her head to look 
at me.  Her face was framed in the valley between my tits, and I could 
see the wetness from my pussy on her lips and chin.  I looked up at the 
man.  His eyes were narrowed, and his chest rose and fell with his 
fevered breathing. 
 “Do what you want.  Fuck my face,” I said, and opened my mouth wide. 
 We fucked nonstop for more than three hours.  The man had incredible 
stamina.  Even after coming, he stayed hard.  On those occasions when he 
couldn’t immediately get hard, he had me and his wife do things to each 
other.  His wife was intimately familiar with her husband’s likes and 
dislikes, and easily anticipated what he wanted.  They ordered me 
around, pulling and pushing me into position when I didn’t move fast 
enough to suit them.  They were both squirters.  When excited, the woman 
shot a thin stream of juice from her twat.  I thought at first that she 
was pissing, but I soon discovered that it was her normal secretions.  
The man, when not actually coming, dripped clear fluid nonstop from his 
cock.  It had the advantage of keeping us all lubricated, even when our 
fucking made my pussy sore and dry. He liked having me suck him off.  I 
did it three times, letting him come in my face and on my tits.  I 
jerked him off onto the woman’s tits, and then licked the come from her 
breasts while he watched.  That made him hard again, and he insisted on 
fucking his wife up the ass while I licked her pussy.  She kept yelling 
for me to stick my fingers in her cunt, and when I finally did, she came 
with such ferocity, I thought she’d pass out.  The only thing I wouldn’t 
let them do was fuck my ass.  I was still a virgin there, and didn’t 
want to have my anal cherry popped by a cock as big and long as his. 
 When they were finally satiated, the man pinched my cheek, and dropped 
a hundred dollar bill on my stomach. 
 “This is for you, kid,” he said.  “Your sister was right.  You were the 
fuck of the century.” 
 He left, leaving me alone with the woman.  She sat at the end of my 
bed, staring at me. 
 “What are you looking at?” I snapped. 
 She shook her head, and got to her feet.  Leaning over, she kissed me 
tenderly, and then ran her fingertips down the side of my face. 
 “You poor thing,” she said.  “I feel sorry for you.”  She opened the 
door, and walked out. 
 “I don’t want your sympathy,” I yelled after her, but I wasn’t certain 
she’d heard me. 
 I lay in my bed, smelling the bleach-like odor of semen and pussy 
juice.  I tried to examine my feelings, but they were a confused jumble, 
and I couldn’t make sense of them.  To escape my thoughts, I rose, threw 
on some clothes, and walked downstairs. 
 The party was still in full swing, though the tempo had slowed 
somewhat.  Everywhere I looked, people were engaged in sex.  Even the DJ 
and camera people had succumbed to the atmosphere.  The female 
photographer was being fucked on the staircase by two men who plunged 
into her simultaneously while she screamed in pleasure.  I noted with 
some surprise that her shift had hidden a ripe, voluptuous body.  Her 
eyes were bright, and she tried to clutch at me as I went by.  I eluded 
her grasp, and kept going. 
 Mary Ellen sat alone on the living room sofa.  Her hair was dishelved, 
and her makeup smeared.  The corset she’d been wearing was gone, leaving 
her clad only in drooping nylons.  She was covered with was come and 
urine.  A weighted clamp was fastened to her labia, and her fingers 
toyed with it idly.  I crossed the room, and sat down beside her.  She 
turned her head to look at me, and she smiled. 
 “Hello, pipsqueak,” she said.  “Did that couple find you?” 
 “Yes.” 
 “Good.  They were quite taken with you.  Personally, I don’t understand 
it.  You’re ugly, and you’ve no ass.  The only damn thing that’s any 
good about you are those tits of yours.” 
 “Thanks for the compliment,” I said.  “How much did they pay you?” 
 “Did they tell you that?” 
 “Yes.  How much?” 
 “A thousand dollars.  Five hundred a piece.” 
 “I want six hundred.” 
 Mary Ellen laughed.  “You’re something else, pipsqueak.  You 
continually amaze me.” 
 “I want six hundred,” I repeated. 
 “I’ll give you half.” 
 I shrugged.  “Fine.  I can live with that.” 
 I started to get up, but she pulled me back down.  “One thing, though.” 
 “What’s that?” 
 “This doesn’t mean we’re partners.  I still run the show.” 
 I kept quiet, pretending to think about what she’d said.  Actually, I’d 
made up my mind to leave the house, and go out on my own.  There was 
nothing left for me here.  If I stayed, I’d wind up like Aunt Jennifer, 
and I didn’t want that.  I wanted a chance to forge a life of my own, 
and not one that was controlled by my deviant sister.  From what I’d 
seen, I knew that Mary Ellen had only scratched the surface of her 
depravity.  I suspected she was mentally unbalanced.  Why else would she 
have willingly chosen the lifestyle she now lived?  It had no viable 
future.  In the end, she’d wind up old and unloved, and the only thing 
she’d have to comfort her would be the memories of an endless series of 
successive strangers who touched her body, but ignored her heart and 
mind.  I couldn’t say any of that, of course.  Mary Ellen would have 
beaten me senseless.  I was no match for her.  So, I simply nodded my 
head.  She was satisfied by my answer, and put her arm across my 
shoulder. 
 I’d thrown on a thin cotton T-shirt and shorts to cover my nakedness.  
Beneath my clothing, I was still naked.  Mary Ellen put her hand under 
my shirt, and moved it up to cup my breast.  Her fingers found my 
nipple, and pulled at it.  She traced a line of quick, tiny kisses from 
her ear to my mouth. 
 “We’re going to have so much fun.” 
 She kissed me, and I kissed her back, because what else was I going to 
do? 

 That experience had changed me.  I saw that now.  When our parents 
died, Mary Ellen had suppressed her grief.  Unlike me, she’d never cried 
for them, nor for her loss.  Instead, she’d bottled up her feelings, and 
they had festered and poisoned her heart and mind.  She was a wild, 
willful child, but she adored our mother and father.  Had they lived, 
she probably wouldn’t have embarked on her sexual odyssey.  There would 
have been no reason to do so.  They’d always given us love and 
affection, and provided a set of guidelines for us to follow.  That 
stopped when we were farmed out to Uncle Mickey and Aunt Jennifer.  They 
simply didn’t have the emotional capacity to handle us.  It warped and 
twisted Mary Ellen, and indirectly, it had warped and twisted me as 
well. I’d slipped back into the role Mary Ellen had planned for me.  I’d 
escaped her, but I hadn’t eluded my destiny.  I was doomed to follow in 
my Aunt Jennifer’s footsteps. 

For the first time in years, I felt a swelling pressure in my chest.  I 
threw an arm across my eyes, and cried until I fell asleep once more. 


End of Part Eleven