Vice President Turned Sex Slave
Copyright© 2026 by MASTERRAJJ
Chapter 3
BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 3 - Story about a corporate company vice president turned sex slave
Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Mult Consensual Slavery Lesbian BiSexual Fiction High Fantasy BDSM DomSub FemaleDom Humiliation Rough Sadistic Spanking Torture PonyGirl Group Sex White Male White Female Indian Female Anal Sex Exhibitionism Facial Oral Sex Sex Toys Tit-Fucking Big Breasts Body Modification Foot Fetish Needles Public Sex Indian Erotica
Buela watched the video again, the hooded woman’s throat working around the stranger’s cock while Andrew wiped the cum away. She paused the footage on the moment the posture collar locked tight and the shoulders strained back. The shape of those shoulders, the exact angle of the spine, matched the confident vice president who had shaken her hand across the boardroom table only days earlier. Buela’s lips curved. She saved the clip and began planning.
Two nights later Manju returned to the club. She paid Andrew the usual five thousand in cash, stripped in the parking lot, and let him hood and gag her. He strapped her arms behind her back until her elbows nearly touched, locked the posture collar, and led her inside. This time the bench was already occupied by another customer, so Andrew guided her to a different station: a narrow wooden beam set between two posts. He forced her to straddle it, toes barely touching the floor, then clipped her collar to a chain hanging from the ceiling so she could not fall forward.
Manju knelt in the dim dungeon, arms wrenched high behind her back by the tight straps. Her shoulders burned, but she kept her knees spread and spine straight like the perfect slave. A thick blindfold sealed her eyes and heavy earplugs cut off all sound, leaving her floating in darkness and silence. The only things she could feel were the cold floor under her knees, the collar around her throat, and the heavy chain leash dangling between her breasts.
Buela entered quietly. She wore full black leather: corset, skirt, boots. She studied the bound woman for a long moment, then stepped close and ran her gloved fingers over Manju’s exposed tits. Manju flinched at the unexpected touch. Buela pinched both nipples hard, twisting until a muffled sound escaped around the gag. She released them, then reached into her bag and pulled out a small case. Inside lay six sterile needles and a pair of curved nose hooks.
Buela first fitted the nose hooks. She slid the blunt tips into Manju’s nostrils and pulled upward, hooking them over the bridge of the nose so the tension forced Manju’s head back. Manju’s body jerked; she hated anything that invaded her nose. Buela smiled at the reaction and clipped a short chain from the hooks to the ceiling ring, locking the head in that strained position. Next she picked up the first needle. She gripped Manju’s left nipple, stretched it, and drove the needle straight through the base. Manju’s whole body convulsed. A second needle followed through the right nipple. Buela threaded thin chains through the needles and hung small weights from them, letting the metal tug the pierced flesh downward. Manju’s nipples stretched under the load, the pain sharp and constant.
Buela removed the earplugs only long enough to speak. “I know who you are, Manju. Vice president by day, cock-hungry slave by night.” She replaced the plugs before Manju could react. Then she knelt between the spread thighs and pressed her mouth to Manju’s cunt. Her tongue licked slowly at first, broad strokes from entrance to clit, tasting the wetness that had already gathered. She sucked the swollen lips into her mouth, then pushed her tongue inside, fucking Manju with it while her nose rubbed against the clit. Manju’s thighs trembled. Buela added two fingers, curling them against the front wall while her tongue continued its steady licking.