Free Lesbian Slave Stories

Free Lesbian Slave Stories




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Free Lesbian Slave Stories
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Even though she is also a girl, that never stopped her lust for her 3rd period Chemistry teacher.
13 pages Completed February 1, 2016 Shawn 
Willow Richardson is the mother of Stacy who's in the 10th grade. One day she met Stacy's algebra teacher in a PT conference and well... read the story and find out.
2 pages June 16, 2021 marcus uwu 
Miss Roberts, your regular secondary school teacher. Her life was a struggle, dealing with filthy teens problems and the mundane life of a millennial dance professor. Although most of her colleagues bored her intensely, a certain fetching English teacher may have caught her eye…
28 pages Completed June 3, 2014 Nenen 
You know about Kaitlynn. And we've mention Emilee (previously Kylie) before. But you have no idea what goes on. An old face from the original story makes an apperience
-note: Kylie is 18-
'Look, they've all said that. Every single one. But it never lasts. Forever doesn't always mean forever,'
Emelia is the most polpuar girl in school. She has the perfect, super hot, rich boyfriend, perfect parents and an amazing social life.
Maisie, however, is a loner, bullied and ...
40 pages February 28, 2018 Clouds In My Coffee 
She was beautiful. I was head over heels for her. She took my breath away. Eva Klum was something else to make me fall for her this hard. Who thought I'll end up loving my teacher who is also my brother's fiancé. Who thought she will love me back after resisting me for so long that I'd t...
13 pages December 17, 2013 Bailey 
Aphrodite is a Lesbian Teen Girl who thought she would never find true Love , but when Shes starts to fall for her Chemistry teacher , she starts to question herself. What Is Love? GxG TeacherxStudent ♥
49 pages October 19, 2015 Glory 
When 17 year old Kate is failing her Math class, who could save her? Mr. Joey is who, but he will not give her the extra credit that she’s use to! What will happen when he tells her to “love him” as extra credit?
Meet Sarah Richpal, a rich bully with a dark past. Together with Mr. Joey's brother...
11 pages November 7, 2012 Brenda 
Forbidden. That's the name I would give our relationships. He's my math teacher and... my lover. She's my best friend.. with benefits. Can this work?
A Bisexual/lesbian story. !Trigger Warning! Will contain references to cutting and suicide later on.
Naomi was my best friend until that night. But now she's much more. I knew she struggled with family life, but never realised how bad it really was. I want to help her, but this isn't just an...
2 pages Completed September 11, 2020 a.o 
A lesbian dinner date full of body language and deep feelings of love. Authors note: this is a one shot. I had a assignment for my AP English class to do a creative writing piece and so i created this. I love that i made my male English teacher read this

This is a story I made up and wanted to share with people, hope you enjoy it.


P.S. This is not a real a story, only a fantasy.


Tommy was 13 the day when his life was fully changed.
It was Friday, the day Tommy would go to his room and talk to his friends on social networks or applications, he was home alone, as it was like this everyday. Tommy, who has a stunningly beautiful mother at the age of 30 with wonderful size 8 feet and 2 sisters that are adopted when their mother was 21, are both blonde with size 7 feet, one of which was 17 and the other 18, his father had died after a plane crash. Tommy would usually make his sisters and mother angry by his natural aggression to them, but this week, he was grounded with no computer in his room and couldn't leave his room after school hours. He was extremely bored, so he decided to ride his bike, even if it was against the rules of his punishment, but he went on to ride it anyways. After about 2 hours he parked his bike back home and opened the door, there his mother and sisters stood there.
"What on earth were you thinking Tommy?!" Yelled his mother.
"I was bored so I went for a bike ride, but that's none of your business, bitch." Replied Tommy.
His mother was just an inch from beating him, but that never worked, Tommy was a true paintballer, he could rarely feel pain.
"That's another week for you Tommy, cussing at your mother is a terrible sin." Said his mother.
But Tommy didn't care... at all.
"Can it skank!" Tommy said with anger coming from his voice.
"Go to your room we will arrange what will your punishment be. NOW!" Said his mother angrily.
Tommy could never stand his mother's screaming so he went to his room immediately. After fifteen minutes Tommy heard his name called by his mother from the Entertainment room.
"Tommy come down here, I want to apologize for the screaming and drama I did fifteen minutes ago."
Tommy rushed down and saw his mother and sisters sitting down in front of the television.
"You can watch T.V. if you're that bored." Said his mother
"Cool, where's the remote though?" Replied Tommy.
His mother had told him that she forgot where she put it and asked him to find it under the sofa, as she reminded him that it might have been there. Tommy went down on his knees and hands to look for the remote, but as he saw the remote he felt the pressure from his mother and sisters hands pressing on to his hands and simply bringing them behind his back and tying them up.
"OH WHAT THE F**K LET ME GO!!" Tommy screamed out.
His mom and his sisters dragged him to the sofa and moved the carpet, it seems that they have installed chain loops for Tommy to hold him and prevent him from escaping. His mom stood over him, she was still in her business dress, pantyhose and high heels.
"Listen, we've got you now, you're ours. You will follow every single command that we give you from now on."
"NO LET ME GO NOW!" He flinched and moved, but nothing worked.
His mother attached the loops and chains of his to the loops on the ground.
"I told you once, if you don't follow our commands, we will call the police, and set you up in a way that it would seem that you wanted to brutally murder us. So you've got 2 options."
His mother took off her high heels and held it in her hands.
"Now this is extremely necessary. I know, I know, I've been on this heels like, aaaalllll day, but you gotta accept your consequences, we're not taking shit from you anymore. So get ready to give up your life to us now."
Tommy shook his head and accepted the consequences.
"Alright here we go, first whiff for our new family owned slave"
She lowered her high heel to his face and placed the smelliest part of her foot, the toes. He inhaled, coughed and gagged he did, but he knew what his job was and had to do it. His mother and sisters laughed as hard as they could. The youngest of the two sisters took off her Puma high tops that she wore all day at cheerleading.
"Hey loser, I've been at cheerleading all day today, mind if you take whiff of what that smells like?"
"Yes Josie, I do, if it is your command and wish." Said Tommy
"Excuse me? My name isn't Josie for you anymore, from now on you will call me Goddess!" Said Josie
"Yes Goddess, you are the most powerful one and rule me. I am meant to be stepped on and nothing more." Replied Tommy
"That's better." Said Summer, Tommy's oldest sister
Their mother smiled with happiness in her, seeing her daughters dominating her son as well as her. She always thought that men are nothing more but snakes and deserve this kind of treatment from women. Josie placed her Puma on his face and held it there for a minute straight. Tommy almost died without any air in him. Summer, his older sister took off her knee high boot and placed it on his face after her younger sister was done. After several minutes they all finished choking him with their terrible foot odor inside of their shoes, boots and heels.
"Okay dear, now you need to clean our shoes, the inside and the outside, we've been walking on dirt and they're really dirty. I mean, you can't expect me to go to work with dirty heels like these will you now?" Said Mary, Tommy's mother.
"No! Smelling them is the last straw, but licking them?! I mean that's just degrading!" Tommy replied.
"Oh dear, you are a comedian aren't you? You know what's going to happen if you don't do it dear. I'm not going to clean my heels for something I didn't do, so as default you'll do it. Oh, and also you'll clean everything that I do to them too!" His mother told him with a sweet voice.
So he got to it, knowing he would have to do this for the rest of his life. After what seemed like hours to Tommy, he was finally done with licking the dirtiness from the outside of their shoes and the sweat from the inside of their shoes.
"That's right dear, suck it up. You will be doing this for the rest of your life. Oh yes and I've planned out what we're going to do to you tomorrow and so forth." Said her mother sweetly.


Part 2 will be continued soon. 
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There is no
doubt in my mind: this institution degraded both master and slave. - Jonah
From Eyewitness to History edited
by John Carey
American
Slavery: Sale of Slaves, Virginia, December 1846
We attended
a sale of land and other property, near Petersburg, Virginia, and unexpectedly
saw slaves sold at public auction. The slaves were told they would not be sold,
and were collected in front of the quarters, gazing on the assembled multitude.
The land being sold, the auctioneer's loud voice was heard, 'Bring up the
niggers!'
A shade of
astonishment and affright passed over their faces, as they stared first at each
other, and then at the crowd of purchasers, whose attention was now directed to
them. When the horrible truth was revealed to their minds that they were to be
sold, and nearest relations and friends parted for ever, the effect was
indescribably agonizing.
Women
snatched up their babes, and ran screaming into the huts. Children hid behind
the huts and trees, and the men stood in mute despair. The auctioneer stood on
the portico of the house, and the 'men and boys' were ranging in the yard for
inspection. it was announced that no warranty of soundness was given, and
purchasers must examine for themselves. A few old men were sold at prices from
thirteen to twenty-five dollars, and it was painful to see old men, bowed with
years of toil and suffering, stand up to be the jest of brutal tyrants, and to
hear them tell their disease and worthlessness, fearing that they would be
bought by traders for the Southern market.
A white boy,
about fifteen years old, was placed on the stand. His hair was brown and
straight, his skin exactly the same hue as other white persons, and no
discernible trace of negro features in his countenance. Some vulgar jests were
passed on his colour, and two hundred dollars were bid for him; but the
audience said 'that it was not enough to begin on for such a likely young
nigger'. Several remarked that they 'would not have him as a gift'. Some said a
white nigger was more trouble than he was worth. One man said it was wrong to
sell white people. I asked him if it was more wrong than to sell black people.
He made no reply. Before he was sold, his mother rushed from the house upon the
portico, crying, in frantic grief, “My son, O! my boy, they will take away my
dear - .” Here her voice was lost, as she was rudely pushed back and the door
closed. The sale was not for a moment interrupted, and none of the crowd
appeared to be in the least affected by the scene.
The poor
boy, afraid to cry before so many strangers, who showed no signs of sympathy or
pity, trembled, and wiped the tears from his checks with his sleeves. He was
sold for about two hundred and fifty dollars. During the sale, the quarters
resounded with cries and lamentations that made my heart ache. A woman was next
called by name. She gave her infant one wild embrace before leaving it with an
old woman, and hastened mechanically to obey the call; but stopped, threw her
arms aloft, screamed, and was unable to move.
One of my
companions touched my shoulder and said, 'Come, let us leave here; I can bear
no more.' We left the ground. The man who drove our carriage from Petersburg
had two sons who belonged to the estate - small boys. He obtained a promise
that they should not be sold. He was asked if they were his only children; he
answered; “All that's left of eight.” Three others had been sold to the South,
and he would never see or hear from them again.
American
Slavery: Punishment of a Female Slave, New Orleans, c. 1846
The author,
Samuel Gridley Howe, was a leading American educator, and a pioneer in the
education of blind and handicapped children.
I have
passed ten days in New Orleans, not unprofitably, I trust, in examining the
public institutions - the schools, asylums, hospitals, prisons, etc. With the
exception of the first, there is little hope of amelioration. I know not how
much merit there may be in their system; but I do know that, in the
administration of the penal code, there are abominations which should bring
down the fate of Sodom upon the city. If Howard or Mrs Fry ever discovered so
ill-administered a den of thieves as the New Orleans prison, they never described
it.
In the
negroes' apartment I saw much which made me blush that I was a white man, and
which, for a moment, stirred up an evil spirit in my animal nature. Entering a
large paved courtyard, around which ran galleries filled with slaves of all ages,
sexes, and colours, I heard the snap of a whip, every stroke of which sounded
like the sharp crack of a pistol. I turned my head, and beheld a sight which
absolutely chilled me to the marrow of my bones, and gave me, for the first
time in my life, the sensation of my hair stiffening at the roots.
There lay a
black girl flat upon her face, on a board, her two thumbs tied, and fastened to
one end, her feet tied and drawn tightly to the other end, while a strap passed
over the small of her back, and, fastened around the board, compressed her
closely to it. Below the strap she was entirely naked. By her side, and six
feet off, stood a huge negro, with a long whip, which he applied with dreadful
power and wonderful precision. Every stroke brought away a strip of skin, which
clung to the lash, or fell quivering on the pavement, while the blood followed
after it.
The poor
creature writhed and shrieked, and, in a voice which showed alike her fear of
death and her dreadful agony, screamed to her master, who stood at her head,
'O, spare my life! Don't cut my soul out!' But still fell the horrid lash;
still strip after strip peeled off from the skin; gash after gash was cut in her
living flesh, until it became a livid and bloody mass of raw and quivering
muscle. It was with the greatest difficulty I refrained from springing upon the
torturer, and arresting his lash; but, alas! what could I do, but turn aside to
hide my tears for the sufferer, and my blushes for humanity?
This was in
a public and regularly organized prison; the punishment was one recognized and
authorized by the law. But think you the poor wretch had committed a heinous
offence, and had been convicted thereof, and sentenced to the lash? Not at all.
She was brought by her master to be whipped by the common executioner, without
trial, judge or jury, just at his beck or nod, for some real or supposed
offence, or to gratify his own whim or malice. And he may bring her day after
day, without cause assigned, and inflict any number of lashes he pleases, short
of twenty-five, provided only he pays the fee. Or, if he choose, he may have a
private whipping-board on his own premises, and brutalize himself there.
A shocking
part of this horrid punishment was its publicity, as I have said; it was in a
courtyard surrounded by galleries, which were filled with coloured persons of
all sexes - runaway slaves, committed for some crime, or slaves up for sale.
You would naturally suppose they crowded forward, and gazed, horror-stricken,
at the brutal spectacle below; but they did not; many of them hardly noticed
it, and many were entirely indifferent to it. They went on in their childish
pursuits, and some were laughing outright in the distant parts of the
galleries; so low can man, created in God's image, be sunk in brutality.


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