Lawyer Divya’s Secret Life as BDSM Slave
Copyright© 2026 by MASTERRAJJ
Chapter 17
BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 17 - Story of a fiery firebrand Supreme Court lawyer famous living a secret life of a BDSM pain slave. Involves lot of cruel ones Public Exhibtion humiliation BDSM sessions. At BDSM clubs nose hooks septum ring leashes nipple piercings
Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Mult Blackmail Consensual Slavery True Story High Fantasy BDSM DomSub FemaleDom Humiliation Rough Sadistic Spanking Torture Group Sex Harem White Female Indian Female Anal Sex Exhibitionism Facial Oral Sex Sex Toys Tit-Fucking Big Breasts Body Modification Needles Public Sex Indian Erotica Transformation Violence
The Jeddah airport buzzed with heat and haste as Divya and Ahmed disembarked, the business class perks fading into the humid Saudi air. Laila, the sleek Arab businesswoman from the flight, lingered near the arrivals gate, her model-like figure drawing glances in a fitted pencil skirt and silk blouse. She slipped a folded note into Ahmed’s sweaty palm as they passed, her dark eyes locking on Divya’s veiled form. ‘For a private session later,’ she whispered, lips curving. ‘Name your price.’ Ahmed pocketed it quickly, his greedy mind whirring. But he shook his head. ‘Difficult. She’s meeting someone important here. Business.’ He kept the real reason vague—the tycoon’s deal, the sale looming like a shadow. Laila arched a brow but nodded, vanishing into the crowd with a sway of her hips.
Ahmed scanned the throng, heart pounding. This was Mecca’s neighbor, sacred ground for a lowly clerk like him. Then, a ripple parted the sea of thobes and abayas: the Arab tycoon himself, Sheikh Khalid, 65 and imposing at 6’2”, his salt-and-pepper beard framing a face etched with decades of power and perversion. Flanked by two silent bodyguards, he strode straight to them, eyes fixed on Divya’s covered shape. He’d devoured the BDSM photos Ahmed sent—her pierced snout deformed by hooks, tits bound and needled, ass striped from whips. That prominent nose, those full lips begging for abuse, the massive breasts heaving in chains—it ignited his harem-weary cock like nothing in years. No proxy pickup; he craved the first taste personally.
‘Ahmed,’ the Sheikh boomed in accented English, clapping the short man’s shoulder hard enough to jolt him. ‘And this ... treasure.’ His gaze raked Divya, who stood tall at 5’7”, her form-fitting abaya outlining the jiggle of her 38DD breasts with each breath. Ahmed bowed low, stammering gratitude. The Sheikh waved it off, gesturing to the gleaming black limousine idling curbside, tinted windows promising privacy.
They slid into the plush interior—leather seats, mini-bar stocked with dates and forbidden liquors. Divya settled beside Ahmed, niqab still shrouding her face, the septum leash coiled in her lap like a serpent. The Sheikh sat opposite, legs spread wide, his thobe tenting already. As the door sealed and the car purred forward, he leaned in, snatching the niqab’s edge. ‘Off,’ he commanded, yanking it away in one fluid motion. Divya’s face bloomed into view: elegant features twisted by metal—quarter-inch septum ring gleaming thick and heavy, large silver hoops pulling her nostrils taut on each side, lip studs winking, eyebrow bars arching like invitations to cruelty, tongue piercing glinting as she swallowed. The leash dangled from the septum, a silver chain begging to be seized.
The Sheikh’s breath hitched, fingers closing around the leash. He tugged sharply, forcing her head forward, nose stretching into a grotesque flare. ‘On all fours, slave. Show your new master.’ Divya’s masochistic pulse thrummed; she dropped instantly, knees sinking into the limo carpet, ass high, abaya hiking to expose her bare pussy lips, already swollen and slick. Ahmed watched, cock hardening in his pants, thrilled at the display—his cash cow performing for the fortune ahead.
The Sheikh unzipped his thobe, freeing a thick, veined cock, uncut and curving upward, pre-cum beading at the tip. He hauled the leash, yanking Divya’s face to his lap. ‘Suck. Deep.’ She obeyed, mouth opening wide, tongue piercing scraping his shaft as she engulfed him. Her lips stretched around the girth, studs pressing into his skin, while she bobbed, hollowing cheeks to pull him deeper. The Sheikh groaned, hand fisting her hair, thrusting up to fuck her throat. Gags escaped, saliva dripping down her chin, mixing with tears as the septum ring tore at her flesh with each pull. Ahmed grinned, palming his own bulge. ‘Good girl. Earn that sale.’ The limo swayed through Jeddah streets, the Sheikh’s grunts filling the space as Divya slurped and choked, her heavy tits swinging free when he ripped the abaya open at the front.
He came hard, flooding her mouth with hot spurts, forcing her to swallow every drop around the tongue bar. ‘Wipe your snout,’ he ordered, smearing the leash across her lips like a rag. Divya knelt back, gasping, nose throbbing red from the abuse. The Sheikh tucked himself away, satisfied for now. ‘To the villa. Crate her until the ceremony.’ Ahmed nodded eagerly, the limo depositing them at a sprawling desert-edge compound—white walls, palm-shaded courtyards, the air thick with incense and anticipation.