Ugly Ella - Becoming Owner and owned

By Fap Smith

Most of this book is focused on woman owning woman, on their BDSM activities, and on their relationship.

Ugly Ella is kicked out of her appartment. She finds another and, glory be, discovers she can bring herself to orgasm by administering erotic pain to herself. (How she learns it and how she evolves her techniques are likely to be of interest to you.)

The next day at work, Betty finally has her chance to get close to Ella and become intimate friends. Ella is the person Betty had decided she wants to be owned by some years earlier. It turns out Betty requires intentionally delivered pain in order to orgasm. She cannot do it herself. She needs Ella to deliver the torture.

Betty begs Ella to own her, or at least let her be a part-time slave, if not her preferred 100% owned as property.

Ella is reluctant at first, then comes to realize the long-term erotic benefits of owning a person who requires intentionally inflicted pain in order to orgasm. The idea of owning a woman's pussy to do with as she pleases thrills Ella.

Ella accepts Betty as her property, to serve as personal slave and as BDSM toy. The BDSM evolves from panty-snapping to intense whipping.

You get exciting BDSM scenes and an exhilerating plot in this 52,000-word novel.

Note: Mother-daughter training is alluded to, but not explicitly described, when Betty tells her Owner how she gained her outstanding pussy-licking skills.

Note: A male is a consensual victim at several places within the book, but most of the story is focused on woman owning woman and what the Owner does to the owned.

The chapters are orgasmic. The people are plausible. The events are thrilling.

Do it. Tap the "buy" button. Get hot and sweaty and feel like everything is right in the world.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Will Bontrager Software LLC
• Release date: Feb 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224972371

Book preview

Excerpts

From the Rubber Band Sting chapter:

Ella selected a thicker rubber band.

She arranged her finger-formed slingshot and pointed at the same spot. Stinging that same spot should really hurt, figured Ella. Especially with the stronger rubber band.

She pulled the rubber band backward. She stretched it out. She stretched it some more.

She let it snap.

For a couple seconds, Ella did not breathe. She didn’t move. The rubber band fell out of her fingers.

It was a moment before the bedroom reverberated with her spontaneous yell.

From the Friday chapter:

Oh, my, Mistress. I have decided. Tie me so I can’t get away. It will give me more experience of the exquisite pain you deliver so well. Perhaps I will become more confident that I can remain in position the next time, when I am unbound.

"Very well, Slave. Come into the bedroom.

From The Third Torture Room chapter:

Three more cracks of the whip were delivered to the same area on her victim’s thighs. Her victim screamed and squirmed and yelled.

Two more vicious cracks of the whip. The victim came with a loud yell. It roared.

It scissored its legs. It tried to turn away, but the way it was attached to the post prevented it.

Overview

After her boyfriend kicked her out (who later became a whipping subject), Ugly Ella's life changed.

She accidentally snapped her panties, which had a little bit of a pleasant sting. It woke her BDSM inclinations.

Ella connected with a female who deeply wished to be owned. The wannabe slave, Betty, could orgasm only with pain delivered by a woman.

Ella paid Betty's price.

Owner and owned pursue painful and thrilling adventures.

Panty Pain

Snap!

Oh!

She smiled.

Nice tingle!

She snapped her panties again.

The snaps stung somewhat. Well, not really. Not much at all. Just a softish sting that actually felt good. The sting part was mostly imaginary.

Eyes wide, she was surprised how sexy the softish sting made her feel.

She snapped the elastic again. She pulled the elastic waistband away from her waist as far as it would easily stretch. When she let go, it landed with a better sting and a muffled crack sound.

Then, again. This time, it was an even sharper sting, no longer defined as a soft one. It didn’t last long, though.

Damn, this feels delish!

Ella was her name.

She proceeded to give herself another dozen snaps. Snaps on the same spot as before made the spot more tender. The snap had more sting.

It felt erotic. She got more turned on with every waistband snap.

Ella smelled something.

What? she thought. Surely I’m not that turned on!

But she was. She pushed fingers into her panties and discovered a pussy so wet it was about to drip.

This was something new for Ella. Although she had noticed a pleasant personal reaction with the first panty snap, she only now fully comprehended that she could turn herself on, by herself, with such a simple thing as a panty snap.

To see how far this could go, the horny and turned-on woman dropped to the carpet and leaned back. She put a finger inside her pleasure tunnel and her thumb just over her clitty.

A little pressure on the sides of her tunnel caused her to involuntarily breathe deeper.

When Ella’s thumb touched her clitty, the slippery knob tried to jump. Surprised, she let it be.

As her thumb touched it again, slowly and gently this time, her clitty purred and sent sharp spasms of nerve pulses into her spine, into her brain. As her thumb rubbed it, the clitty made her entire spine resonate, or so it felt.

Her pleasure tunnel, on the other hand, sent more than just individual spasms. It sent groups of spasms. With a touch at certain spots inside that tunnel, the turned-on nerves emptied all their feelings all at once into her spine.

Ella’s mind followed her sensations.

She moved her thumb just a twitch. It sent erotic waves through her clitty.

As she wiggled her thumb, the feelings piled up. It didn’t take much for the sensations to cascade though her pussy lips and overflow her tunnel.

The waves of feelings fused together into a dollop. The dollop pulsed the nerves between her pussy and her puckered ass.

It overflowed into her legs. The legs did various involuntary things like kick and bend back and kick again, which Ella didn’t even notice.

The erotic energy was a strong, deep reverberation in her spine.

It filled up the entire capacity of the spinal cord. Some spilled into her chest and arms. Most of the energy was dumped into her brain.

The brain was overwhelmed with all that sensation all at once.

Her body shook.

Her nerves tightened and released and tightened up again. She grunted. She felt hot. She felt cold. Then hot all over again. Waves of sensations raced up and down her body.

Ella reached the edge and spilled over.

She came with a yell. It was a body-writing orgasm. A leaky orgasm. An orgasm coursing through a flopping torso.

She yelled and kicked and leaked and flopped.

When Ella once again became aware of existence, the intense flurry of sexual excitement had relaxed a tad. She raised her shoulders up from the floor and braced herself on her arms. Her breath stretched her lungs.

In a bit, when more focus returned, she noticed the carpet had a wet spot.

Hmm, I guess I christened this apartment just fine, she thought to herself. I’ll leave that spot as it is.

She looked at that impromptu wet spot and smiled.

It can be covered with a throw rug whenever I expect company, she decided.

Otherwise, the spot would remain visible to remind herself that she did not need him. She didn’t need him for anything, not even for sex.

Never before had she been able to bring herself to climax without first experiencing stimulation provided by someone else.

It was the little pain of the panty snaps that primed my pussy, mused Ella.

She smiled. She laughed. It was a wonderful revelation about herself just when she was making another change in her life.

This was a new apartment for Ella. It was move-in day.

Ella understood that she was lucky to find an apartment as quickly as she did. She had spent only one night in a hotel.

The unexpected event happened the day before yesterday.

Her boyfriend outright dumped her. Suddenly. No warning.

He called her an ugly glob of flesh, which she knew contained at least a little truth. Some people did see her as ugly. Yet, others saw her as uniquely attractive.

But look who’s talking! she had thought, while she got up and gathered her stuff together. ‘Ugly’ is the definitive adjective for him. Nobody would ever make the mistake of seeing him as anything but ugly.

Phen had a face made for radio, certainly not for photographs. Electrons got frantic and tried to get out of the way whenever that face invaded a camera’s view. His face got uglier every year, it seemed.

Since he had grown out of babyhood, no matter the angle or the lighting, not one photograph of him was ever shared with anyone else. Nobody ever voluntarily associated themselves with a photo of Phen. Not even politicians. The yearbook of his high school graduating class had a [photo not available] placeholder where his class picture would have been.

Ella and Phen had been living together for some years.

Each had their own unique reason for getting together in the first place.

But it was not the reason they stayed together. Convenience was the glue. They thought they needed each other for sex.

That was especially true for Ella. She assumed from experience that it took another person to thoroughly enjoy sex. She never did have luck just rubbing her pussy. Yet, she was too involved with her career and accumulating personal wealth to consider finding time to look for a different partner.

In spite of her assumption, Ella rarely thoroughly enjoyed sex. Enjoyed, yes. But not thoroughly.

With Phen, sex was all it was. Plain sex. Phen never would even talk about deviations, wouldn’t entertain the idea at all. To him, it was an abomination to even think of such.

At least, that seemed to be his attitude.

During all the time they had been together, there had been no serious arguments, just good sex (at least for him).

Maybe he had discovered he could jerk himself off and no longer needed a pussy. But whatever the reason, two days ago, immediately after their usual sex, he called her ugly and told her to get the hell out of his apartment.

She went.

Less than two days later, she was in her own apartment. The one with the fresh pussy-juice spot on the carpet.

When she had snapped herself with her panty’s elastic waistband, even though performed on a whim, she had experienced a turn-on from the sensation.

Now that she had time to think about it, she was not surprised. In the past, her pussy had reacted with both flutters and fluid when Ella viewed BDSM pictures and read BDSM stories.

She now knew for a fact that she needed no partner for sex. Not Phen. Not anybody. She could orgasm all by herself.

Her full-face smile demonstrated that the discovery delighted her. She felt satisfaction resonate throughout the whole of herself.

Why didn’t I think of that months or even years ago! she chastised herself. There’s no sense in sauntering through life with an IQ pretty close to the top if I ignore what I have!

Ella now knew that all she needed to do was set herself up with something that generated physical sensations sufficiently intense to label as pain. Her fingers would do the rest.

The truth revealed itself because she acted on a whim. She had snapped the elastic waist of her panties to see how it would feel. The solo-induced climax was the result of that impulsive act.

Ella never again would need to wait until someone else was in the mood. Other people could be fun, but would never again be needed.

Ella smiled, highly pleased.

She got herself a bottle of water. After a swallow, she resumed unpacking.

There was little to unpack. Which was good. The apartment was small.

Ella experienced an urge to enjoy another orgasm. Not only because she craved it, but also to prove that the first one was a repeatable occurrence.

For this turn-on, she decided to use a belt to pain herself with.

Ella removed her jeans and unthreaded the belt. She sat on the edge of her bed. Then, she gave herself a whack across her thighs.

Ouch! she yelled.

She caught her breath.

Oof da, she exclaimed to herself. "That hurt!

But it hurt so gooood!

She realized her pussy was already juicy.

Damn. That sharp sting turned me on!

When she gave herself another whack, it was weak. While there was a slight sting, not satisfactory at all.

The same thing happened with every subsequent try.

After her experience of that first whack, which was sharper than she had anticipated, Ella now had a degree of subconscious trepidation. It affected the subsequent whacks. She involuntarily held back on the force.

The sharp and stingy experience of the first whack had opened the sexual sensation faucet. The whack had delivered more pain, and joy, than she had anticipated.

Now that she knew what to expect, somehow her sub-conscience shied away from the full-force pain she wanted to give herself. She was unable to force her arm and wrist to deliver the keen bite she craved. No matter how much she tried.

Shit, Ella muttered. I love the pain but hold myself back at the last instant. Why!

She experienced a sudden depression. The first orgasm was wonderful. Now, she couldn’t do it again. For some reason, at the last split-second her muscles refused to deliver full force.

Not a person to stay in a low mood for long, Ella bounded out of bed and decided to get dressed. She needed to get some groceries.

She put her panties on. Remembering the earlier pleasant experience, she snapped the elastic.

Ella felt a stir in her pussy. So she snapped it again. The stir intensified.

After the failed belt whacks, Ella felt a reverent gratification that the panty snaps still worked.

She snapped her panties again and again. A dozen times. She rolled about on the bed. Snap. Snap. Snap. Every snap on the same spot was a bit more painful.

Ella was not mentally prepared for it when she climaxed. She hadn’t even touched her clitty. The sting from the elastic sent her over the edge.

But why can I hurt myself with the panties, yet shy away from the belt? she asked herself.

It wasn’t much of an orgasm, but it was indeed an orgasm. As she relaxed from it, she figured it out.

The panty snaps give her an opportunity to let the elastic do as it pleases. She relinquished control before the delivery of the snap.

While she thought about it, she mumbled out loud.

"OK, once I release the elastic, it snaps my hip. There is nothing I can do about it. It snaps.

"Not only do I let the elastic do as it pleases, when I let go, it is impossible for me to get the control back.

The belt, on the other hand, requires my proactive guidance all the way to delivery of the whack. And my subconscious prevents me from delivering intense pain.

Ella concluded she needed to find permissive ways to deliver the pain she now knew she craved. She had to be out of control for the last fraction of a second before the pain was delivered. Otherwise, she would involuntarily hold back on the delivery.

I need to set it in motion and let it happen, she continued mumbling. "Yes, let it happen. Not, make it happen. That must be the key.

It seems I need to be in control except at the last instant. In that last instant, I must be prevented from regaining control.

She craved sexual pain, Ella realized as she thought about this. Her pussy responded -- cruel, agonizing, self-administered pain.

That first whack with the belt suggested to her that intense self-inflicted pain would be her retreat, her comfortable and orgasmic realm, her home spot.

Although the elastic-waisted panties delivered less than real pain, they worked for now -- so long as she did enough snaps to bring up the pain level. Soon, in a week or a month she assumed, it would not be enough -- she would be unable to torture herself to the degree she desired.

Ella chastised herself. "Why am I such a chicken? Why do I pull back at the last instant?

I MUST be able to do it.

That evening, when she was ready to go to sleep, she recalled a problem-solving technique that sometimes worked for her in the past. Just before she was about to fall asleep, she asked herself a question. Perhaps her subconscious would wake up with the answer.

This time, the question was, How can I torture myself like I want?

Rubber Band Sting

As Ella had wanted, she woke up with the answer.

A rubber band. A huge one! She was thrilled.

Immediately, she reconsidered. The surprising pain from the initial crack of the belt, the night before, was a lesson to take things in stages. While the sudden sting of the belt was a horny experience, stepping into the unknown required consideration, especially when alone