Interlude 1-Amanda and Mark
Amanda realized that the problem was basically that she kept underestimating Elaine. She had underestimated how Elaine would respond to a physical relationship with her, she underestimated how Elaine would react to the party in Las Vegas and finally, and crucially for this phase of Amanda’s life, she had underestimated Elaine’s willingness to enter slavery. Amanda wondered that if she had simply told her old roommate what she was planning for her Elaine would have come along willingly, or at least put up enough of a fight with Roy that Amanda’s plan could have gone through. Well, Roy had swept in and poached Elaine right out from under Amanda and Amanda’s get out of trouble card was gone. Now she had to work off her debts and she was not happy about it.
Elaine seemed like such a helpless waif that it was easy to forget hat she was a capable woman. Elaine had lived in both New York and Los Angeles on her own. In the city, not the suburbs, something that Amanda was not even willing to try. Elaine could be independent and strong, it was just in some areas, sex mostly, she liked to be led and dominated. Amanda had to remember not to take Elaine’s sexual submissiveness as a sign that she was weak and incapable of taking care of herself. She knew Elaine was painfully shy, but when she had worked at the Canyon she had to make presentations to every new employee, and they had a pretty high turnover rate there. There were things that scared Elaine, but Amanda knew that once her pretty former roommate and lover made her decision to do something, she jumped in all the way. Amanda hoped Elaine was enjoying her life as a slave.
Amanda had by now realized that she was in love with Elaine. She knew she should not have feelings like that for someone who was a mark for her, but there was no real denying it. That was why she had dragged things out so long with Elaine and why she had left without finding a buyer. She wanted Elaine for herself and was angry she had let the chance go. She thought often about Elaine’s beautiful body squirming deliciously under her, how her little pet had sobbed like a baby the first time Amanda had made her orgasm. What she really missed was how Elaine performed oral sex on her, though. She had been an eager and able learner and by the end no one was better at eating pussy than Elaine.
Well, that was in the past, Amanda thought bitterly. Her life had taken a turn for the worse after Elaine. Her real estate deal should have set her up for the next few years, at least given her a financial cushion. Instead the whole market had collapsed and Amanda lost not only her money, but the money of people who did not like losing money. They had called in their loans, Amanda could not pay. Frank Goller had bought her debt in exchange for Elaine. The plan was simple, Amanda was going to lure Elaine to a weekend in the desert then get her to sign the enslavement papers. Amanda was not quite sure how she was going to do that, but Elaine was never able to say no to her so Amanda knew she could do it.
Then along came Roy and everything went to hell, again. Roy had slashed her tires (at least he had been good enough to buy her new tires later) and stolen Elaine out from under her. Amanda was completely out of luck, out of options. The only thing she had left was herself, she knew that selling herself into slavery was an option. But Amanda had a talent that made her very useful. Amanda had the ability to find slaves. Amanda could not explain how she did it, but if she was in a room full of people she could tell who was naturally submissive. Once she located likely prospects she would move in, like a hunter searching out prey. She would get to know them and pretty quickly she could tell if they were just submissive or if they were a slave waiting to happen. If they were just submissive, Amanda would, if she had time, have a fun little fling with them then move on. If the woman was a slave, Amanda would stay around, break down her defenses and get her to sign the papers making her a slave. Amanda would sell her to a broker, Rex Owens was her usual contact, or straight to a buyer if one was available. The process would take anywhere from a few days to a month.
Over the years she hold sold six women into slavery and could have done a few more had she chosen to pursue them, but Amanda had other interests, too. She worked as a river guide and had missed at least two sales by going on river trips instead. There had been one guide on one of her trips who was a delicious submissive and Amanda could have gotten her, but Amanda wanted to keep her around as a playmate for future trips. Then she had gotten married and that was that. Amanda realized she had missed a few lucrative opportunities.
Elaine had been a beacon. Amanda had been drifting a bit and started working at the Grand Canyon as a front desk clerk as a way to kill time until her next adventure. When she was checking in and going through new employee orientation Elaine had given a presentation on insurance and vacation. Amanda had been floored, she had never experienced any woman who was so obviously a slave. Elaine needed a roommate and Amanda talked to the housing manager, it did not take her too long to get him to put her with Elaine. It should have been simple, break through her defenses and sell her, two months, tops. But Amanda had stayed for a year. She was too into Elaine, Elaine was a luxury, she became Amanda’s de-facto slave and Amanda loved every minute of it.
Looking back, all of this could have been avoided had she just sold Elaine when she first had the chance. But she had gotten too attached and that was a mistake. Elaine was a luxury, a beautiful, submissive woman who really enjoyed where Amanda took her. She had been kindness and company in a life that Amanda realized was lacking in both. And she was great in bed, the things that woman could do with her mouth amazed Amanda and Amanda had been with a lot of women.
Now the chain of events had led to Mark buying her debt. Mark was a modern day feudal baron in rural Nevada. He had a huge ranch near the town on Elko, Nevada. He also owned the nicest casino in town, the brothel, a mine or two and interests in about anything else of value in the county. That was just he legal activities. He was also a member of the Association and dealt freely in slaves. Amanda suspected that not all the slaves he acquired were acquired legitimately or disposed of legitimately. As odd as it sounded, there were rules and etiquette for this sort of thing. She knew he was a pot dealer and he did it by the bale, not by the bag and suspected he controlled the meth trade in the area. He was rich; he was, within his local area, powerful; and not overly burdened by scruples.
He was a good looking man, too. He was in his early 40s with short, brown hair that was starting to thin. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and a handsome face. His build was stocky and muscular, Amanda had watched him wrestling down cattle with his ranch hands and had been wrestled down by him a few times already herself. He was urban and sophisticated with a ruthless edge to him. Amanda was attracted to him, she could see being in some sort of long term arrangement with him if she could just spend most of her time out of Elko.
Sam was the muscle behind Mark’s operations. He had the look of ex-military or ex-CIA. Short, powerful with an assortment of scars and tattoos. He also had a huge cock; Amanda had quite enjoyed the one time she was with him, but he was too obsessed with Elaine to spend much time on Amanda. Sam was the guy Mark sent when people needed to be dealt with. If you were lucky, Sam just hurt you until you agreed to do whatever he asked. If you were unlucky you simply disappeared and were never seen again. Amanda wanted to get on and stay on his good side, but she feared for Elaine if he got his hands on her again.
Amanda herself was a good looking woman in a very distinctive way. She was fair skinned with pale blue eyes and a pretty face. She was very fit and solid. Years of hiking, biking, rock climbing and rowing boats had given her a chiseled build. All of that would be enough to make Amanda a beautiful woman, but her hair was the topper. Amanda had a huge head of curly red, hair. It would stay tied back if she worked hard enough at it and tied it back with some extra strength hair ties. But if she did not stay on top of it, and she usually did not, it would fall loose. She was a natural red head and proud of it. If anyone doubted she was natural, she kept most of her fiery pubic hair to prove the point.
Amanda’s new duties were not too bad, she had to take care of Mark while she found two slaves for him. Sam was too obsessed with Elaine (wasn’t everybody?) to take much notice of Amanda, and aside from an occasional night, left her alone. Amanda did want to get some warning to Elaine, but was not sure how. Mark was not bad, if you liked power he certainly dominated his little corner of the world, and he wasn’t bad to look at. He did not have the sadistic streak Sam did, if you reminded Mark every now and then how powerful and important he was he was easy to handle. What annoyed Amanda was that he kept her on a short leash. Amanda had to find him two slaves to settle up her debt. She was good at that, she could find two in a few months easily if she was turned loose. Unfortunately, and irritatingly, Mark kept her close. There was not a lot of prospects in Elko and Wells, Nevada. There were not a lot of good looking women period and finding one with the right mindset was impossible. If he would let her go to Las Vegas or even Reno she would have one quickly.
Amanda walked into Mark’s office; he had called her in and most likely wanted to get laid.
”You do realize that if you let me go to Las Vegas I could have you a slave within a month, right?” she said as she sat on the corner of his desk. She was aware her skirt was riding up and she was showing a lot of her muscular thighs.
”I realize that,” Mark said.”But not only would I be deprived of your company, but there are things going on and I want you here until everything settles back down again.”
“But Elko is such a little shithole,” Amanda complained.
”Be careful, my dear, this is my home,” Mark warned.
”Hey, if you’re a cowboy or a miner it’s great, but if you are a hot redhead on the prowl, it is boring, dirty and small,” Amanda said.
”I’ll tell you what, Amanda,” Mark said. “In about a week, things will be different and I will send you to Las Vegas or Reno or Los Angeles or wherever you need to go to fulfill your obligations to me. But for now, you stay put. Understand?”
“Yes, Mark,” Amanda sighed with exaggerated drama.
”Right now, though, I am feeling a little horny. So please to go my bedroom and prepare yourself, I will be in shortly,” Mark said by way of dismissal.
”Why wait?” Amanda said seductively and slid her skirt up a little more. Amanda found power sexy and this office was the seat of Mark’s power. Mark leaned back in his chair. He was not telling her to go so she continued. She slipped her dress off and wiggled out of her bra. She could see a bulge forming in Mark’s pants and smiled.
Amanda leaned forward, her breasts hanging down and kissed Mark. The sunlight from the open curtains fell on her body, lighting up her curves and her red hair as it fell across her shoulders. Mark reached up and cupped Amanda’s breasts. He started to stand up, but Amanda put a light hand on his chest.
”Oh no,” she purred, “you stay put. Let Amanda take care of it all.”
Mark smiled and relaxed back into his chair. Amanda kissed him again then knelt between his legs. She pulled off his cowboy boots and set them beside his desk. Then she reached up and unzipped his pants. With a little help from Mark, she pulled off his pants and underwear and folded them neatly. She knelt back down, gave Mark a wicked little smile then draped her hair across his thighs. She bobbed her head up and down and back and forth, brushing him with her hair, but with each pass she gave his hard cock a quick lick.
Amanda took Mark’s shaft in her hand, gently rubbed it a few times then took the tip in her mouth. Amanda liked to suck cock. It gave her a feeling of control and power over the man, she could decide how much pleasure he got. She was not a big fan of having her face fucked, but she liked deep throating on her own. And she liked the taste of cum, there was a lot to be said for that. Amanda sucked Mark’s cock slowly, deep throating him them pulling all the way off, kissing the tip them taking him in again. She could tell from his breathing and the feel of his body that Mark was really enjoying this. She knew she could never get Mark under her spell, but she could make him happy enough to get him on her side.
Amanda stood up, keeping one hand on his wet cock she climbed on his lap. She smiled, kissed him once quickly then guided his cock to her wet slit. She lowered herself on him, taking him inside her. She sat all the way down on it and wiggled her hips, feeling his pubic hair tickle her butt. She grabbed hold of the arms of the chair and went to work fucking Mark. She circled her hips as she rode up and down on his cock. Amanda was hoping for an orgasm, as much as she liked sex she did not cum that often, usually when dominating another woman. There was something about Mark that turned her on, though, and she felt herself getting closer and closer as she mounted him. She reached the point where she knew it was going to happen, she was almost there. She relaxed a little and changed her motions just enough to get a little extra rub on her clit.
”Oh, yesssss,” she moaned as she came. She bounced a little harder and rode it out. When she finished she could tell Mark was close, too. “Can you cum in my mouth?” She asked him and Mark nodded.
Amanda climbed off and dropped back to her knees. She gobbled up his glistening cock, tasting her juices on him. Amanda loved the taste of pussy, too. Elaine would always be her favorite, there was a certain sweetness to her, but she liked her own, too. Amanda sucked fast and Mark blew his wad in her mouth. Amanda eagerly lapped up the cum, savoring each little bit and sucking until his cock was empty.
There was a knock at the office door and a cowboy came in. He seemed a little startled to see Amanda on her knees but kept his composure; this sort of thing was not unheard of around here.
”Boss,” he said to Mark, “Dave’s got the Blazer hung up on some rocks and we need the tractor to get it off.”
Amanda licked Mark’s cock one last time and winked at the cowboy.
”I’ll be right there,” Mark said and the cowboy left. “Well, back to work.”
* * * * * *****
Interlude 2-J.J. and Anna
J.J. was tied to the bed while Anna rode him. He had to admit that for a forty year old, Anna was in great shape. Her body was taut, her skin smooth. Her blue eyes stared down at him and her stern features had a grimace that could either be pain or pleasure; or, more likely, pleasure mixed with disapproval for J.J. He was kind of annoyed that even as she slid up and down on his cock, her hair was still up and perfectly neat. J.J always thought a woman’s hair should be free and messy when she fucked.
The real problem, though, was that J.J. did not like Anna in the least. He had been using her to get information on Roy, the sex had just been part of it. J.J. was honest enough to admit he liked having sex with Anna, pussy was pussy after all, he just did not like her. J.J. had done a lot sexually, with both men and women. He found that usually he liked being dominant and in charge. He enjoyed forcing his will upon others, especially people weaker on body or spirit than he was. Anna had been the first time he had been dominated by a woman, it had been an interesting experience, not always to his liking. It was different being the one who had to serve another, the one being punished rather than the one doing the punishing. On the whole, he liked inflicting pain better, but being dominated got him into Roy’s house.
It had also gotten him into Elaine’s mouth. J.J. was bright enough to understand that when Anna had Elaine suck his cock it was a power game. Anna was using him as an instrument of her control over Elaine and using Elaine as a way to control him. He didn’t care, he got to have a beautiful woman suck his cock. He liked spanking her hot little ass, too. Soon enough he’d be fucking that ass. That though brought a smile to his face, if she only knew what was going to happen to her. Sam was paying him $10,000 to deliver Elaine to him. That was on top of the $10,000 Mark was paying him to spy on Roy. J.J. had to laugh at it all. On top of what he was getting paid for his real job, he was getting $20,000 tax free and he would take his time delivering Elaine to Sam. Not too long, but long enough to really enjoy that little slut. Even as Anna rode him, he closed his eyes and imagined Elaine. He got a sick, sadistic pleasure thinking of how Sam was going to make her work off that ten grand, he’d like to be a fly on the wall for that one.
Anna slapped him across the face, first with one hand then the other. He had shaved today, at Anna’s request, and his cheeks were particularly sensitive. She had ridden his face for a while earlier and said that his stubble irritated her thighs. He’d have to do something about her, too. He was having some “friends” at Immigration review her case for any irregularities. So far there was nothing, but in this day and age he could probably get her detained or deported for something.
J.J. was getting close to cumming, he hoped she wouldn’t stop now. She’d done that a few times and that really pissed him off. Fucking without cumming was like being kicked in the balls, but the effect lasted longer. When she did that he would have to spend the night watching porn and whacking off and even then it was not the same. No, she was cumming, too. He closed his eyes and remembered how Elaine’s ass felt under his hands.
Anna had no illusions about J.J. She despised him as much as he despised her. Anna longed for a strong man who would be her equal. She had a huge thing for Hunter, but knew he was not in the market for an equal, he wanted cute little submissives like Elaine. But if she could not find a man who was strong enough to be her equal, a weak man whom she could dominate was the next best thing. J.J. was the worst kind, he was a weak man who tried to be a strong man. He was a bully, and a sadist. He puffed himself up and preyed on the weak. Well, Anna was not weak and she enjoyed humiliating him in bed. She liked the sex, she enjoyed riding his cock and having him eat her out, but mostly she liked putting him in his place. If he was to be weak enough to let her do the things she did to him, then he deserved her contempt. She thought that his slovenliness was both a sign of his laziness and disorganization and a feeble attempt at rebellion.
Anna knew that J.J. was a cop, she knew he was passing information to Mark and she suspected he had plans for Elaine. She led him along, fed him bits and pieces of information and kept him coming back for more. It was just a matter of time before he turned on her and she relished the chance to take care of him once and for all. It had been a few years since Anna had killed a man, she considered herself retired, but would enjoy slipping a knife between his ribs. For now, though, she had other plans. She pushed her hips back, it would bend J.J.’s penis in a way he did not like, then ground down on to him. She was cumming and celebrated by slapping J.J. across the face. Nothing but contempt, she thought as she slapped him again.
Interlude 3: Free Day, Elaine and Roy
Anna returned home that morning in a good mood. She was humming to herself as she helped Elaine from Roy’s bed back to her rooms in the attic. Anna changed the bandage on Elaine’s brand and left some pain killers by the bed. The German woman stocked the refrigerator with a few meals and kissed Elaine on the cheek.
”Good little slave had a rough night, did she?” Anna asked.
”Yes, ma’am,” Elaine said softly.
Anna smiled softly, kissed Elaine softly on the lips this time and left, locking the door behind her.
Elaine was glad, and a little surprised, for this kindness. She was still wrecked from the night before and really not up to dealing with being paddled or humiliated by Anna. Roy had carried her back to his room after the branding and taken her a couple of more times during the night. At one point she vaguely remembered begging Roy to stop, that she had had enough, but he ignored her and kept pounding away at her aching body. Her pussy felt like someone had taken a power sander to it and her ass felt like she had been fucked with a baseball bat.
Then there was her brand. It still hurt, and it hurt a lot. Roy had given her some pain killers that were just starting to work. She needed them for her entire body, Elaine thought ruefully. Roy had covered up the brand with a bandage to keep it safe until it healed, he was not going to stop using her until it healed, he assured her. As much as the physical pain, there was the psychological damage of it. Even if she were suddenly freed, she would still carry the mark of being a slave on her body forever. She tried to imagine that someday she would be a free woman, find a nice man and get married. How would she explain the “R” burned into her bottom? Could she tell him she was a slave? She couldn’t, she was Roy’s now and forever. And to be honest with herself, she really didn’t want a nice man
It had been an amazing night, despite all the problems her brand created. Her whole body ached not just from the cocks inside her, but the many, many orgasms she had experienced. She had wanted Roy and Hunter both inside her at the same time and they had been more then happy to oblige, but not until they had fucked her senseless first. She was becoming addicted to that sort of thing, to multiple partners and rough sex. She had been pushed to her limits and beyond last night, and this morning the pain was the price. Even without the brand, she did not think that she could ever go back to her boring, lonely life.
Elaine sat in a daze in her room after Anna left. She knew she should shower first, she was covered in dried cum and lube, but she couldn’t. She poured a glass of red wine and sent it on its way to her stomach to give the pain killers a hand then fell asleep on her bed.
Roy sat in his office. He was tired, too. It had been a long day yesterday: the driving, the planning, and talking to Hunter would have been enough to wear him out on most days. Then the time with Elaine, that had cost him sleep and his stomach felt like he had been doing sit-ups all day. Even his cock was a little sore from fucking Elaine so much. He was not going to complain, having a sore dick from fucking your beautiful slave too much was not going to garner a lot of sympathy. He knew he needed rest, this was going to be one of those days where he slept for sixteen hours, but at least he would be fresh for when the crew started north the day after tomorrow.
Roy had called Leon to the house. He had sent out the pictures of J.J. and now had the information back. He did not really like what he had discovered.
”I got the report back on J.J.,” Roy said to Leon, “can you get word to Hunter?”
“Sure. What’s up?” Leon asked.
”He’s a fed. Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms,” Roy said with a frown.
”ATF, eh?” Leon looked amused. He had never had a high opinion of the ATF, he liked the Marshals and the FBI, but to him ATF was the junior varsity.
”Word is he’s crooked, too,” Roy said. “He was reprimanded due to that gun-running sting into Mexico. It looks like he was suspended, facing disciplinary charges but then the whole thing was suddenly dropped. No one knows why, but rumor has it he blackmailed the right people. My contacts say that he was sent undercover about a year ago, which was the same time he started working at the warehouse. After that he pretty much stopped reporting and no one asked any questions. It seems like he’s on the payroll, but doesn’t actually do anything for the ATF. He and Anna hooked up pretty quickly after that and since then she’s relied on him as her contact at the warehouse.”
“Do you think Anna knows?” Leon asked, Roy could already see Leon making plans to take care of J.J.
”I doubt it, but does it really matter?” Roy answered with a shrug. “I don’t trust her anyway and now I know I was right in suspecting J.J. I know Anna’s been having Elaine blow him, most feds who aren’t crooked would not go for that, so I thought it would rule out him being a cop. But if he’s on the take, well, that would make sense.”
“Should I take him out before we go?” Leon asked eagerly.
”I ran it by Greg,” Roy said. “His thought was that killing a federal cop the day before we leave to sell a bunch of illegal arms would be a bad idea. ‘It would complicate things’. They would start asking questions, that would lead them to Anna and from Anna to me. Greg says his people in law enforcement have not heard of anything going down, so I don’t think we have to worry about ATF. If we have to worry about anything it’s for whom he’s crooked. After we get back, it would be nice if he disappeared.”
”That’s it for today,” Roy said rising from his chair and walking Leon to the door. “Thanks for coming over. I did not want to tell you this over the phone, I’m sure you understand why.”
“Of course. Tomorrow for the meeting?” Leon asked.
”Five pm,” Roy answered.
”Get some sleep, Roy,” Leon suggested, “you look beat.”
“Leon, I am heading to bed, alone, and will sleep like the dead until tomorrow morning,” Roy said with a smile as Leon left.
Roy left instructions with Anna not to be disturbed unless it was an emergency and to let Elaine rest today. He wanted Anna to change the dressing on Elaine’s brand again later and make sure she had enough painkillers to get through the day. Then he climbed into his bed and fell deeply asleep.
The Party Day
The full day off had helped Elaine recover. She had not left her room, not even tried. She slept for three hours and felt refreshed enough to shower. It had taken some careful scrubbing to get all the dried semen off of her body. Roy and Hunter had done a number on her, but she eagerly anticipated being fucked like that again. After the shower she had eaten, Anna left her a nice sandwich, had some more wine and channel surfed for a while. She popped a vicodin and realized how little she cared about what was going on in the outside world right now. Most of it seemed so inane and irrelevant, just noise to keep people occupied. She dozed off and on, ate dinner then crawled into bed and slept soundly until the next morning.
Elaine was a beautiful woman at the age of thirty and becoming more so as she embraced her slavery. She was short, maybe 5’2” and slim. She had a flat stomach: smooth, but not ripped. Her breasts were small, firm and very sensitive. She had narrow hips and great legs. Her beautiful thighs, silky on the inside, funneled you in to her pleasure center. Her calves were a little thin, but tapered into graceful ankles and delicate feet with a high arch and red painted nails. Her ass was exquisite, perfectly shaped with a pale complexion. Her dark blonde hair fell straight to the middle of her back. Full cheeks and a pretty face were highlighted by her beautiful, big blue eyes. She had a slender neck and shoulders that seemed to call out not only to be kissed, but held roughly while pleasure was forced from the rest of her body.
Elaine woke up feeling better. She ate a light breakfast, had some coffee then checked her door. It was open so she went downstairs. She was not sure where she was heading, but decided to stop by Roy’s room and see if he was there. She peeked her head in and saw him sleeping in the middle of his bed, the sheets and blankets askew. She saw one of his legs, poking out. It was a nice leg, she thought.
Roy was 22 years old, broad shouldered with strong hands and great legs. He had short sandy blonde hair and a mustache, goatee combination. He was just over six feet tall with a slightly hairy chest and a ripped stomach. He definitely kept himself in shape. He had great legs, just the right amount of hair and chiseled, she loved rubbing herself on those powerful thighs. His eyes were closed, but she knew he had penetrating steel blue eyes beneath his lids.
She quietly crept into the room and into bed beside him. He was naked as she curled up next to him, pressing her body against his. She took a deep breath of his scent and sighed happily as she lay with her owner. He had done so much to her: raped her, abused her, violated her every way possible, shared her with other men, whipped her and finally branded her. And all Elaine could think was how much she wanted him. She had told him she loved him after he and Hunter and finished with her, she was not sure that that was true, but there were deep feelings for this strong young man she could not explain. All she knew was that she wanted him and she craved what he did to her.
Roy began stirring. He realized Elaine was with him. Elaine felt his hand slide up onto her head, he gently took hold of her hair and pushed her head down to his crotch. Elaine moved the blanket and sheets aside and saw Roy’s cock was already awake. She had always heard about what guys called “morning wood”, now she had an up close look at it. Elaine thought that Roy had a beautiful cock, big, straight and he certainly knew how to use it. How a young man of 22 could be so good at fucking was a mystery to Elaine, but she was not to going ask too many questions, she was just going to enjoy it.
Elaine held his shaft in one hand and began licking it from base to tip in long, slow strokes. She imagined an ice cream cone, and she was licking to get every delicious bit of it. She cupped his balls with her hand and put the tip of his cock in her mouth, but only for a second. She returned to just licking. She felt Roy’s muscles tense and rubbed his legs with her hands. She was not surprised when Roy took her head and pushed it onto his cock. Elaine let Roy push her head all the way down onto his shaft, gagging only briefly as he entered her throat. He let go of her and Elaine did the rest on her own. She braced her arms on the bed and slowly sucked Roy’s cock, moving her head up and down, taking the tip from her mouth to her throat and back again. Elaine took her time, she enjoyed the feel of Roy’s muscles tensing, his stomach flexed, his legs straight. Roy came with a deep sigh and groan, and Elaine dutifully sucked every last bit of cum out of his cock.
”Good morning, Master,” Elaine said and kissed his thigh.
”Good morning, slave,” Roy said, running his hand through her hair. “Why don’t you go get us some coffee?”
“Yes, Master,” Elaine rose and padded downstairs on bare feet.
Anna was in the kitchen, there were boxes of food and catering trays on the counter. The tall, blonde German was checking a list and busy at work. Elaine did not want to disturb her, but she also had to bring Roy the coffee he wanted.
”Excuse me, ma’am,” Elaine said politely.
Anna looked up, an annoyed scowl briefly crossing her face. “What is it, slave?”
“My Master asked that I bring him coffee, ma’am,” Elaine informed her.
Anna sighed. “You know where everything is,” she waved at the coffee maker. “After you finish with your owner, come back down here. I have work for you today.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Elaine slipped over to the coffee maker, ground the beans and started brewing coffee. Elaine was curious about all the dishes and food. She knew that if there was any gathering of people, she would be part of the entertainment. As much as she wanted to ask about it, she knew that Anna did not like her asking questions and would surely punish her if she did.
When the coffee finished brewing, Elaine brought the carafe, two cups and a little container of milk back up to Roy. He was sitting up in bed with a happy grin on his face. Elaine poured the coffee and climbed back into bed next to her owner. Her owner, she thought with a little thrill, she belonged to him.
”We have a busy day ahead of us, slave,” Roy said, inhaling the aroma of the coffee. “I am having some business associates over today. We have some planning and preparations to do. Do not concern yourself with the details, it’s not your place. If they so desire, and I’m sure they will, you will entertain them.”
“Yes, Master,” she took a sip of her coffee. “May I ask how many people will there be?”
“Let’s see,” Roy began ticking off his fingers, “Greg, Freddie Eel, Faybio, Leon and me. So five men. Maybe a woman if Greg brings his slave along.”
Elaine took it in. Five men would be inside her today, five men satisfying their desires on her small, tender body. She was just getting over the worst of being sore from Hunter and Roy and now there would be five men using her.
”Yes, Master,” Elaine said softly.
”Scared, pet?” Roy asked with a chuckle.
”Yes, Master,” Elaine answered.
”You’ll do fine,” Roy assured her. “Besides, it pleases me to watch you getting fucked by other men. I love watching you squirm and cum and I love seeing them hurt you. You are beautiful when you’re getting violated.”
Elaine said nothing. She knew Roy would make her do something like this, and, to be honest, the thought of being the centerpiece of a gangbang was thrilling to her. But she was afraid of how much it would hurt, what they would do to her when they had her completely in their power. She sighed and took another sip of her coffee.
”You may, cry, beg or scream,” Roy told her seriously, “but I will not tolerate defiance. Do you understand, slave?”
“Yes, Master,” Elaine knew that there was no point in trying to talk him out of this. He had decided to do this to his slave and there would be no further discussion. They finished their coffees in silence. Roy was preoccupied with the details of today and tomorrow and Elaine was trying hard not to worry too much about what would be done to her today. After they finished Elaine took the dishes back downstairs and helped Anna set up for the guests.
Elaine was worried and distracted as she helped Anna make sandwiches and salads. There was a lot of meat and cheese, not too many vegetables. Anna fried some bacon while Elaine sliced tomatoes. Anna seemed to enjoy Elaine’s discomfort and unease. The statuesque blonde stood behind Elaine and gently took the knife from her hands.
”Are you worried, slave?” Anna asked her, rubbing Elaine’s arms.
”Yes, ma’am,” Elaine answered, freezing as she felt Anna press against her.
”But, why, slave?” Anna stroked Elaine’s arms and nuzzled against her ear. Elaine was uncomfortable with this, Anna had never been this intimate with her before.
”There could be too many, I’m not sure I can take it,” she wanted to pull away from Anna, but knew if she did she would be punished.
Anna reached up and began rubbing Elaine’s breasts. “Does it really matter? You will do as you are told. Your body does not belong to you, it belongs to Roy. Besides, you like being fucked roughly and hurt,” Anna suddenly pinched Elaine’s nipples. “Don’t you, Elaine?”
Elaine tried to move away, but Anna’s body pressed Elaine into the counter. “Yes, ma’am,” Elaine answered, tilting her head away from Anna.
Anna rubbed her cheek against Elaine’s neck. “Do I make you uncomfortable, slave?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Elaine answered as Anna continued to tug on her nipples.
”Well,” Anna slid one hand down Elaine’s flat stomach and into Elaine’s well trimmed bush. “This is what being a slave is about. No matter what you feel about the person who has you, you have to obey, you have to allow yourself to be used, to be violated and penetrated.” She slowly moved her hand down and began fingering Elaine’s wet slit. “Get used to it, Elaine.” Elaine spread her legs a little wider, opening herself for Anna. “There is going to be much worse in your future. There are a lot of rough men who want you and Roy may not always be able to protect you, he may not always want to protect you.” Anna kept slowly sliding her fingers in and out of Elaine. “You have had a sheltered life here, Elaine. Don’t expect it to last forever. There is a big game afoot and you will belong to the winner.” Anna turned Elaine’s face towards her and kissed her, Anna’s tongue finding Elaine’s and holding her there. She held the kiss for what seemed like an eternity, slowly fingering Elaine as their mouths locked. Anna abruptly ended the kiss, pulled her fingers out of Elaine and walked away.
Elaine took a deep, shuddering breath. She was aroused and left wanting when Anna left. She looked over at Anna, who was now packing up some lunches, looking like nothing had happened. Elaine thought about what Anna had said and wondered what Anna knew that Elaine did not? She knew she should tell Roy, but with a flash of insight, she realized he already knew. She helped Anna for a while more, avoiding eye contact with her keeper, trying not to worry too much about everything.
”Okay, slave,” Anna said to her. “You are dismissed from here. Time to go exercise. Go.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Elaine said and left.
Elaine walked down to the exercise room beside the garage. Anna had set the time for an hour, Elaine thought that that was a nice start, but if she was going to get sweaty she was going to get the most out of it. She went to the stereo, skipped through all of Anna’s Teutonic classical and got to her section of the music catalog. Anna had resisted letting Elaine get any of her own music, but Roy enjoyed giving his pet these little gifts. Elaine found The Pogues and turned them on. She was in a Pogues mood, it was nice and Irish and frenetic enough for a good workout. More than than, to her it evoked cool, wet weather and that was a nice change from the hot dry desert of Clark County, Nevada and it appealed to her Irish nature.
After all the prescribed exercises, Elaine got on the Stairmaster for another thirty minutes then did another thirty minutes of yoga as a cool down. She felt good as she finished and headed to her rooms to get cleaned up for lunch, all her muscles had the pleasant burn of a good workout.
Elaine showered and when she got out she found Anna had brought her lunch upstairs and left it on her table. Elaine was a little disappointed, she liked eating downstairs where the space was bigger and it felt a little less like a prison. But it was a BLT and a Caesar salad so she was not going to complain. Anna had even given her a beer, a nice gesture, Elaine thought. Roy always kept a few bottles of wine in her rooms, but beer was a nice change of pace and Anna controlled the beer supply.
Elaine ate, cleaned the dishes and lay down for a nap. She had slept well yesterday, recovering nicely from her long night with Roy and Hunter, but she knew she was going to need her strength for today. She was dreaming of being in a room full of men in dark masks, each of them waiting for their turn with her, when the intercom woke her up. Roy summoned her down to his office. She checked her hair, adjusted her collar then hurried down naked on bare feet to her owner’s office.
As she headed down to Roy, Elaine thought about her collar wondered how did Anna choose them? It did not seem based on days of the week or any other system Elaine could determine. This was a small, thin leather one with a leash hook in the front, but no other hooks or attachments. Some were quite thick and, with the exception of the one she wore with Roy and Hunter, all were either metal or leather. Why not something soft and smooth? Since it was the only clothing she wore around the house, she took a special interest in her collar. Black leather or silver metal, not much else. Cuffs were something else on which she had become something of an expert. Padding was definitely important, bare metal hurt if she pulled on it too much or if it was too tight. There was something nice about the pain sometimes, another reminder of her slavery, but usually it was a distraction from what was being done to her elsewhere. Band cuffs were nice, they held her without being painful. When she was starting out exploring bondage with Amanda, they sometimes used ones that Elaine could open herself if she needed. It seemed so innocent to Elaine now, they were just playing. Now, once she was cuffed she was not getting out unless someone else let her.
She rapped lightly on the door and an older man opened it. Elaine was immediately struck by how handsome he was. She guessed he was in his fifties with salt and pepper hair, thinning at the corners but full elsewhere. He had chiseled features, piercing blue eyes and a clean shaven face that smiled warmly at her as he opened the door. He was about 5’10” tall with a strong, slim build and was dressed exquisitely. He looked like he just got out of a board meeting, even his tie was still tied perfectly (Elaine had taken quite an interest in knots lately). He took her hand and led her into the room.
”She is lovely, Roy,” he said as he looked over Elaine. Elaine naturally reasoned that any man Roy introduced her to was going to have sex with her and the idea of this man inside her was actually quite pleasant. If he was going to be the first of the day, it would be a good start. “Turn around, dear,” he instructed Elaine. Elaine turned around in a circle, displaying her naked body for him. “Exquisite,” he said to Roy, who was sitting by his desk. “I am tempted to arrange an accident for you just to get her. I assume she fucks as good as she looks?”
“Better,” Roy answered, “she is passive and submissive but her body is amazingly responsive. You should have seen her cum the first time I raped her. Hunter and I dp’ed her the other night and I thought she was going to explode. And the way she feels when you’re inside her is, well, words do not do the experience justice. Let’s just say ‘orgasmic’ is a good starting point.” He sat down and the other man did as well. Elaine noted that he sat in the chair Roy had fucked her on yesterday. “Slave, make us some drinks,” he ordered Elaine. “Greg, bourbon?”
“Of course,” the other man, Elaine assumed he was Greg, answered.
”In the cabinet over there, slave,” Roy gestured at a cabinet in the wall. “Make one for yourself, too.”
“Yes, Master,” Elaine responded. Both men watched her as she walked over to make their drinks.
”What a perfect ass,” Greg commented.
”And it is amazing to be inside it,” Roy said with a smile. “Elaine, this is Greg,” Roy said as an introduction when she returned with the drinks, Elaine knew to give the men their drinks first. “Greg was my mother’s third?” he looked at Greg and Greg nodded, “husband. He is the one who introduced me to the Association and has been a good friend and mentor over the years. And, if I die, he gets you. You would not be his first or only slave.”
“That’s right,” Greg patted his lap for Elaine to sit down. She obligingly sat on his lap, aware that her sore pussy was wet with the thought of Greg having her. Greg caressed her thigh as she leaned back into him. “I have Jane right now,” he said as he sipped his drink, “a lovely little auburn haired things, but she does not really excite me at the moment. The sex is becoming routine, that’s barely acceptable with a wife and not at all with a slave. I’m looking for a buyer at the moment, but then I’d have to find a replacement.” Greg reached up and began playing with Elaine’s breasts. Elaine sighed happily as he rubbed her nipples.
”Told you she was a live one,” Roy said. “Slave, kiss Greg.”
“Yes, Master,” she turned her head, parted her lips slightly and moved her face to Greg’s. Their mouths met, his kiss was gentle and exploring. It lingered, growing more insistent, firmer the longer the kiss lasted. Elaine lost herself in it and her hands wrapped around his shoulders.
Greg turned to Roy. “May I?” he asked.
”Of course,” Roy answered. “She may be a little sore from the other night, but you can gag her if she screams too much.”
Greg lightly smacked Elaine on her butt. “Get up,” he told her.
”Yes, sir,” Elaine obediently stood, waiting to be taken by him.
Greg stood up and began undressing. He carefully folded his pants and set them across the back of a chair, his shirt on top of that. Elaine looked at his body, lean and wiry with greying chest hair and a couple of round scars on one of his shoulders. He slipped off his boxers, a large, thick cock bobbed in front of him.
”Condom?” Greg asked Roy.
”Not necessary, but cum in her mouth,” Roy answered, “I don’t want her messy for later.”
Greg held the tie in his hands and looked at Elaine.
”Do you like being tied up, slave?” he asked her.
”Yes, sir,” Elaine answered.
”Wrists,” Greg barked at her. Elaine put her wrists forward and Greg tied them together with his tie. Elaine looked at him with her beautiful blue eyes, anxious, ready. Greg began caressing her, exploring her body with his hands. He started with her neck and shoulders, tracing the line of her neck, looping his finger beneath her collar. He traced her collarbone, sliding his hands down to cup her breasts, playing with her nipples. Elaine closed her eyes and lost herself in his touch. he rubbed his hands on her back, her flat stomach. He got on his knees behind her and kissed her perfect ass while his hands moved up and down her sexy legs.
”Nice brand,” he complimented Roy. He touched the flesh around it. “Good job for your first time.”
“Thanks, Greg,” Roy answered. He enjoyed watching his slave like this. He could tell from her breathing and her color that she was getting into this, she would cum for Greg, he had no doubt about that. She was so responsive, so eager. Roy smiled as Elaine jumped when Greg slid a finger into her slit. She had been fucked hard and long the other night, but was still ready for more.
”Nice pussy,” Greg said as his fingers explored her. “Turn around, slave. I want to taste you.”
“Yes, sir,” Elaine turned and spread her legs a little more, offering her crotch to him. Greg grabbed her butt cheeks, carefully avoiding the fresh brand and pulled her to his face. Elaine squirmed with delight as he licked her slit from bottom to top.
”Very nice,” Greg complimented. He kissed each thigh and snaked his tongue into her navel. “Amazing view from down here. I bet you spend a lot of time down here.”
“Some,” Roy, “but it’s more fun to fuck her. She is pretty spectacular at eating pussy herself.”
Greg licked her again, Elaine wanted to cum, if he kept it up for another minute she could.
”Is that true, slave?” Greg asked. “Are you good at eating pussy?”
“Yes, sir,” Elaine moaned.
”Would you like to eat my slave’s pussy?” Greg asked and slowly licked her again.
”Oh, yes sir,” she answered.
”Elaine has thing for redheads,” Roy chimed in. “Amanda taught her how to please a woman.”
“She is a good teacher,” Greg said. He licked her once more then stood up. “Go to the desk and bend over it, slave,” he told Elaine.
”Yes, sir,” Elaine was a little disappointed that she was not going to cum yet, but happy that he would be fucking her soon. She remembered how sore she was, but that was not going to stop anyone. She took a few steps to the desk and bent over, laying her chest against the wooden top. She shifted so her legs were spread and put her bound hands above her head. She felt a cool breeze on her wet pussy and waited for Greg.
Greg savored the view for a minute. He did not share the belief of many Association members that all women were inherently slaves, but he did believe that many were. Elaine was definitely a slave, she had to be owned. Looking at her beautiful body bent over, spread and waiting for him he knew that anything other than complete subjugation would leave her wanting. He picked up his drink and sipped it, enjoying making Elaine wait for him. To her credit, she did not complain, the only sign of her impatience was when she wiggled her butt seductively at him. Greg and Roy smiled at each other, appreciating a good slave ready to be used.
Greg was ready now. He set his drink down beside her and stepped behind her. He got a firm grip on her collar, pushing her down with one hand while the other guided his cock to her cunt. He knew she was sore and wanted to see how she reacted to getting hurt so he rammed deeply into her with one massive thrust. Elaine screamed in pain and only Greg’s hold on her collar kept her in place. Greg fucked Elaine hard, punishing her still sore pussy. She screamed out, but could do nothing but take it. Her body, despite the pain, was getting what it craved and an orgasm soon overwhelmed the discomfort. Greg felt her cum around his cock and smiled, she was a natural. He was almost ready to cum, too. He slid out of her pussy and pulled her around by her hair then shoved his cock into her mouth. Elaine obediently opened up and took it in, tasting herself on his shaft as he pushed into her throat. She kept her eyes closed as he finished in her mouth, swallowing his cum as he climaxed inside her.
When Greg pulled out of her, he helped her to her feet. “Thank you, sir,” Elaine said dutifully. Greg untied her hands and began to get dressed.
”Slave,” Roy said to her, “Greg and I have much to do today. Go to your rooms and wait to be summoned. Eat well and get some rest, you will have a busy night tonight.”
“Yes, Master,” she kissed Roy lightly, gave Greg a quick kiss too, then went back to her rooms.
The day was full of activity. From her room, Elaine watched as a flatbed truck half loaded with bales of hay was backed into the garage. She was kind of surprised it fit, but having been on the receiving end of big things in small openings she knew Roy could make it work. One of the old Suburbans pulled up after it and two more men walked into the garage. After an hour or so, the flatbed pulled back out, this time the bed was full of hay, neatly stacked. She tried to get a good look at the men, but none of them stayed outside for very long. Whatever they were doing, it was obvious they did not want to be seen doing it.
Elaine tried to sleep, but she was too worried and excited to do anything but lay down in bed. She tried to imagine the men using her, holding her down while they took turns on her. Scared and excited, too aroused to sleep Elaine just stared at the ceiling for a couple of hours. The sun began setting behind the mountains and Elaine waited.
The door opened. Anna walked in, dangling a leash from her hand and carrying a set of cuffs in the other. They were not the usual handcuffs, but four that could be attached to each other or the loops that seemed to be everywhere in this house.
”Elaine, come,” Anna barked. Elaine disentangled herself from her sheets and walked to Anna, keeping her eyes on the floor. The tall blonde woman put the cuffs on Elaine’s unresisting wrists and ankles then hooked her wrists together. She hooked the leash to Elaine’s collar, give it a sharp tug and the two of them left the room.
Anna led Elaine down the stairs to the bedroom floor. Anna briefly told her about the men who would be with her tonight. She described them with a evil edge to her voice, glad of what Elaine would be subjected to tonight. All Elaine could do was follow Anna to whatever awaited her. Anna led her past the bedrooms and to the grand staircase that led from the bedrooms to the vaulted living room. Anna was going to make a dramatic entrance: leading the collared, bound and naked slave down to the room full of horny men.
The conversation in the room came to a sudden halt as the men saw Elaine. All eyes were on her beautiful, helpless body as Anna led her down. Elaine briefly looked over the crowd. Roy and Greg were by the fireplace, sipping on bourbon. Greg finished a cigarette and tossed the butt into the empty fireplace. Greg was in jeans and a t-shirt now, Roy in a pair of cargo pants and a denim work shirt. Both looked sweaty and worked, but their eyes lit up when they saw Elaine.
Sitting on the couch were two men. Anna had identified them for Elaine. One was Leon, one of Hunter’s security crew. Leon was about 40, 6’ tall with the muscular shoulders and a bit of a gut. His long blonde, almost white, hair was tied into a pony tail and set off his brown eyes nicely. He had a mustache and short full beard that were neatly trimmed, but could use a comb. He was tattooed, Elaine could not make any out from up here, but they seemed to be all different sizes, shapes and colors.
Next to him was Freddie Eel. Anna said that he was the “fixer”, he had contacts to get whatever it was they were selling and he knew how to launder the money when they were done. Elaine thought he looked like a short Kevin McHale from the old Boston Celtics, her father had been a big fan and her brother had a poster of the player in his room. Freddie had a prominent nose that seemed to blend in as well as anything could with the rest of his face. It was not that he was unattractive, he was just kind of plain and nondescript. He had straight black hair in a boring cut that fell below his ears and to his eyebrows but stayed above his collar. He was clean shaven without a hint of stubble, except for one little patch on his left jawline where he had missed while shaving. His clothes were clean, but not high end, (Elaine recognized his slacks from Target), and a little wrinkled. He seemed to always need to tuck in part of his shirt or straighten his collar. No tie, no tattoos and only an onyx ring on his left pinkie. His eyes were so dark as to be nearly black and when they focused on Elaine she felt that he was appraising her, finding her value to the penny and what he could get for her.
The last man was standing in front of the couch. It was obvious he had been trying to tell a story that neither Freddie nor Leon was particularly interested in hearing and was annoyed when the attention of the room turned to Elaine. But even he had to stop and stare. Anna had warned Elaine about him, his name was Dwell Faber, but everyone called him Faybio in mock tribute to the romance novel cover model. He was another member of Hunter’s security crew. Anna had described him as a “puffed up, self important wannabe Alpha male”. He was in his early 30s, and looked like he spent a lot of time in the gym body sculpting. By now Elaine recognized what strength looked like; Faybio had tone without strength. His shirt was open, revealing the sculpted pecs and a complete and total lack of any body hair; Leon and Freddie made it an obvious point to look away. His hair was long and brown, wavy and tied back into a ponytail and had the unmistakable signs of hair jell. In a room full of men who gave their appearances the briefest concerns, Faybio stood out as a vain man, someone who aspired to the true masculinity that the others had without trying.
Lastly, Elaine saw where she would be. There was something that could best be described as a sawhorse with a long padded leather seat on top. The legs of the sawhorse were a little wider than typical, the seat a little lower. Her eyes took it in, there were loops on the four legs, perfect for bending her over it and securing her, spread and ready to be used. She noted that the top was about as long as her torso, if her arms and legs were secured to the legs her ass would be just beyond one end, her head and neck past the other. She wanted to turn around and run back to her room, but she knew that there was no safety, no place to hide. She would be found, punished then tied to that thing and used all night long. She took a deep breath and followed Anna down.
Anna took her to Roy, handed him the leash and returned to the kitchen.
”This is Elaine. She is my slave. I am going to share her with all of you tonight,” Roy said, pulling Elaine beside him. Roy pointed to the sawhorse. “We’ll get her secured to that in a minute. Ass, mouth, pussy are all available. Do wear a condom please so no one has to take sloppy seconds, or thirds, or whatever.” There was a chuckle then Roy continued, “there will be two bags, Elaine will offer you the first bag. Pull out a number from the first bag and that is what order you will get her. When it’s your turn, pull a chip out of the second bag, that will tell you where you get to fuck her. There are five chips in the second bag: two pussy, one mouth, and two ass. Here’s how it works: let’s say you pull a three from the first bag and a pussy chip from the second. That means you go third and you get to fuck her pussy. Any questions so far?” Roy asked and looked around.
”After everyone has their turn,” he continued, “we will have a second drawing. Everyone will write their name on a chip. Elaine will draw a name, whoever she draws will get to take her up to his guest room and have her for the rest of the night. No restrictions, just leave her in one piece.” There was more chuckling all around. “And don’t mess up the brand.”
Elaine stood completely silent, staring at the ground, blushing furiously, while he give the men the rules for violating her. She knew she was going to spend the rest of the night; either tied to that thing or in one of the bedrooms; while the men, laughing, drinking and smoking, fucked her over and over again.
”And, to further prove what a generous man I am, if all goes well with the upcoming business, you will all get to take Elaine home for a night each,” Roy continued. “No limits, do whatever your sick little minds desire to her.”
“Why do you get to decide?” Faybio challenged.
”Because she’s my slave,” Roy shrugged. He knew Faybio was trying to pick a fight again, trying to prove something.
”Maybe I’ll just do whatever I want to her tonight anyway,” he stood up and puffed up his chest. “What are you going to do about, geek boy?” Leon quickly rose from the couch, his fists clenched.
”Faybio, are you serious?” Now there was that edge to Roy’s voice that Elaine had learned to fear. “You’re calling me out over my slave in my house? The night before we head out to do the biggest deal in your miserable life? I’ll tell what I’m going to do about, Faybio. First, I’m going to keep Leon from strangling you right now. Down, Leon.” Faybio turned and saw Leon backing away, his face livid. Anyone who had seen Leon like that knew enough to be afraid. “Second, I will kick your fake tanned, ‘roided up, hair gelled, wanna be tough guy ass my own-fucking-self. After that, if these guys still want you here, you get to whack-off watching the rest of us have fun with this beautiful woman.” Roy took three steps and got right in Faybio’s face. “Of course, that is all assuming you still want to do whatever you want to my property in my property. Otherwise, you can apologize for being such a fucking prick to me in my home and, being the generous guy I am, I will forget this whole ugly little incident.”
The challenge hung in the room. Leon was livid, Faybio worked under him and Leon was appalled at his manners. Right now he wanted to beat Faybio within an inch of his life, kick him off the job and go a man short. But he realized that Roy had him beaten. Faybio, despite all his bluster and desire to be a badass, was still a coward at heart. Anyone who posed any real threat could make him back down. Leon did feel a little sorry for the girl, though. She could not defend herself and Faybio could bully and hurt her, he would probably take out his humiliation of backing down to Roy on her. It might be fun to watch, though, Leon thought.
”I’m sorry, Roy,” Faybio said, taking a deep breath and looking nervously around. “I was out of line. She’s your girlfriend…”
“Slave. Not girlfriend: slave,” Roy corrected him.
”…and I am a guest in you house,” he continued. “I was a fucking prick and I’m sorry.”
Roy smiled at him. “There’s hope for you yet.” He turned back to the other guests, “now, as I was saying, pick a chip out of the bag. Do not show it to anyone else, let’s keep the suspense up. Elaine, would you please take this.”
“Yes, Master,” she said and took the black velvet bag. If this was going to happen to her, she would do her best to please her owner. Elaine was already getting wet. The idea of being used as a fuck toy by all these men was part of it, but more than that was seeing her owner stare down that fake tough guy, Faybio. She wanted Roy to bend her over and fuck her in front of all these men, to show them what kind of control he had over her. She flashed Roy her best “fuck me now look”, but he just smiled.
Elaine took the bag and walked to each of the men. She offered each of them the bag, and with the bag, the use of her body. Freddie Eel was first, he reached his hand into the bag and fondled the chips, trying for some sort of advantage, an edge over the others. Leon reached in and pulled one out without any fuss or drama. Greg pulled her to him by her collar and kissed her, his tongue finding hers and exploring her mouth. Elaine’s legs were weak and her pussy dripping by the time he let go and pulled a chip out of the bag. She wanted to be taken by that man again, she thought as she stepped to Faybio. He scared her. There was a deep glower in his face and a look that said he was going to be rough and cruel with her, that he had to prove his worth by abusing her. She wanted to get him over with and on to a better man. He thrust his hand into the bag, if Elaine had not been expecting something like that he would have knocked the bag out of her hands, but she held it tight and stared up at him defiantly.
”I’m gonna fuck that look off your face,” he growled softly to her.
There was one more chip in the bag and Elaine offered it to her owner. He gave her a quick kiss and took it out. He led her to the sawhorse and laid her down on top of it, chest down, parallel to the top beam. First, he secured her ankles, her legs were spread, she felt a breeze on her wet pussy. Next, Roy unhooked her wrists and hooked her wrists onto the front legs. She gave a quick tug on her arms and legs and knew that she was not going anywhere until they were done with her.
”Okay,” Roy said cheerfully, his hand resting on her back. “Who’s first?”
Freddie smiled and showed his chip with the number one on it.
”It figures,” Roy said with a wry grin. “Draw for where.”
Freddie smiled, reached into the other bag. Once again, he felt around then pulled one out. He proudly held up a round poker chip with a large “V” hand written in black ink on it.
”I guess she’s going to find out why he’s called Freddie ‘Eel’,” Leon laughed.
”It’s a tough nickname to live up to,” Freddie said as he undressed, tossing his clothes in a pile on the floor, “but one has to try. Let me show our little toy what she’s getting.”
Freddie moved in front of Elaine. She looked up and saw why he was called Freddie Eel, he had a huge, pale cock. He was about nine inches long, maybe a little smaller than Sam, but not much. It would be one of the biggest cocks Elaine had ever taken inside her. She stared at it for a moment, then he rubbed the tip on her face, leaving a little stream of pre-cum. He held her hair with one hand while the other rubbed his cock on her cheeks. He bent down and whispered in her ear, “enjoy it baby. I know I will.”
“Come on, Freddie,” Faybio shouted, “the rest of us are waiting.”
Freddie flipped Faybio off, defiantly holding his middle finger up. He did, however, let go of Elaine’s hair, unrolled a condom onto his huge shaft and stood behind her. “What a great looking piece of ass, Roy,” Freddie said as he rubbed his hands on her sides. “If you want to sell her, I’ll make you a fair offer.”
“Freddie,” Roy answered. “Two things. First, I’m not selling her. Second, I know your ‘fair’ offers. It would be fair for you not me. Now, go ahead, she’s waiting.”
Freddie guided the tip of his huge cock to Elaine’s wet pussy. She closed her eyes and waited, grateful that her time thinking about this in her room had left her loose and wet. She was still scared of what he was going to do to her, but she was helpless. He would use her as he saw fit. Freddie pushed into her slowly, he just kept going deeper and deeper into her. Elaine gripped the legs of the sawhorse as he stretched her, tensing her body as he bored into her.
She could hear some of the other men laughing at her discomfort. “You all the way in yet, Freddie?” someone asked.
”Almost,” he moaned. Elaine felt him push against her cervix and roughly jam it in a little deeper. She was relieved when his hips pressed against her ass. He gave one more shove and Elaine yelped in pain as his tip pushed deeper into her. “Now I am,” he said smugly, holding her hips with both hands. “Damn, Roy, this pussy’s still nice and tight. Sure you don’t want to sell? I’ll loosen her up for you.”
“Positive, Freddie,” Roy answered.
Freddie slowly slid back, pulling all the way out. He rubbed the mushroom tip of his cock on Elaine’s violated pussy lips then shoved it back in, he was faster this time and when he was all the way in Elaine felt a sharp wave of pain as his tip drilled deep inside her. “Okay,” he muttered, “let’s do this.” He pulled back fast then rammed his large cock back in forcefully. Elaine cried out in pain as he roughly fucked her helpless body. This hurt, there was no way around it. She tried to shift to open up more to him, but that just made the pain on her cervix worse.
Elaine knew what was going to happen, there was no way to fight it. She could feel the waves of pleasure building inside her. This violation, this painful fucking that she was powerless to stop, fueled her desire. She needed to be used like this, to have her body taken regardless of her desires, to be used as a fuck toy by strong men. Even as the pain from Freddie intensified, her first orgasm of this ordeal hit her. Her cries of pain now were tinged with pleasure, her body turned flushed and all her muscles spasmed at once.
The rest of the men watched Freddie take Elaine with a mix of awe and lust. She was a beautiful woman, passionate and desirable in a way that none of them could quite understand, but all could appreciate. Seeing her small body take Freddie’s huge dick inside her, seeing him pound away at her, made them eager for their turn, eager to take her, too. When she came, when they saw the pleasure she was getting from this, they all got a little harder and thought of how they could hurt her until she came.
Freddie came, his head tilted back and guttural noises coming from his lips as he came inside her. With a look of profound satisfaction, Freddie pulled his huge shaft from Elaine’s battered pussy, the reservoir tip of the condom hanging low with the full load with which he had filled it.
There was a moment of awed silence, then Roy cleared his throat and asked, “okay, who’s next?”
“Me,” said Leon, tossing the chip to Roy and reaching in the other bag. He held up another “V” and tossed that one to Roy, too. “Fuck, yeah, gonna do this bitch.”
Leon quickly stripped, dropping an automatic pistol carefully on the desk, but leaving his ankle holster on. His gut jiggled a bit as he bounded over to Elaine. Out of the corner of her eye Elaine caught a look at his cock. She was both relieved and disappointed that he wasn’t that big. He was still bigger than any of her boyfriends had been, but smaller than Roy and certainly smaller than Freddie. She might be able to enjoy this one, she thought.
Leon scratched his balls, rubbed his cock then slid on the condom. He slapped Elaine’s ass then crammed his cock into her abused slit. Elaine sighed as he quickly filled her, she was so wet and ready after Freddie and eager for more. Leon put both hands on her shoulders then jackhammered away at her pussy. Elaine moaned as he fucked her, she rode the edge of another orgasm, trying to will herself over the edge. He was fast and furious and she worried that he would finish before she could cum again. She shifted, trying to get a little more pressure on her clit, but as soon as she did Leon blew his wad. Elaine moaned with disappointment, that was it for her pussy, she might not climax again tonight.
Leon smacked her ass and smiled.
”Good old Speedy Leon,” Freddie teased, “fastest fuck in the west.”
Leon slid out, stripped off the condom and dropped it in the trash can. “Doesn’t matter,” he shrugged, “I got off.”
“Number three?” Roy called.
Faybio smiled, handed Roy the chip and pulled and “M” from the other bag. He had been undressing while Leon had been fucking Elaine and arrogantly strode up to the bound woman. Elaine was annoyed. She didn’t cum when Leon fucked her and now she was going to have to suck Faybio’s cock.
Faybio grabbed Elaine’s hair and pulled her head up. Elaine got a look at him and wanted to laugh. He had an decent sized cock, nothing to be ashamed of, but nothing to be overly proud of either. That wasn’t what made her want to laugh, what made her want to laugh was that he had shaved, or waxed, his entire body. There was no hair on him beneath his head, his chest and legs were bare, even his pubic hair was gone. He was totally smooth, like a woman, Elaine thought. She liked her men masculine and any man who spent enough time and effort on removing all his body hair did not strike her as masculine. If she wanted to bury her face in a hairless crotch, she would go and find Kristy.
Faybio pulled roughly on her hair. “I told you I was going to fuck that look off your face,” he sneered at her.
Elaine was not having any of it. She might have to let him fuck her face, but she was not going to be intimidated by him. Rougher and tougher men than he had raped her, Faybio did not scare her. She glared defiantly up at him and opened her mouth, daring him to do her. He looked a little taken aback, shocked at her fighting spirit. Two men had just hammered away at her pussy and now she was looking contemptuously up at him, waiting for him to do his worst. He felt a little less sure of himself, but he was not about to back down now.
Faybio pushed his shaft into her open mouth, driving past her tongue and into her throat in one motion. Elaine’s nose was buried in the skin of his stomach and she was briefly grateful for the lack of pubic hair, but that lasted until she got a whiff of his body wash. How did he ever wind up with Roy and his crew, she wondered. He kept his dick in her throat until she nearly passed out from lack of air, then he began sliding in and out. He was rough, violent, trying to break her will and dominate her with his cock. Once, it might have worked and Elaine might have fallen like an innocent girl under his domination. But not now, now she just wanted him to be done and get on to Roy or Greg, get on to the real men.
Faybio seemed to sense her defiance and contempt and tried everything he could to hurt her. He pulled her hair and slapped her cheeks, he drove in as deep as he could, burying her face in his stomach, bouncing his balls off her chin. There was no doubt that it hurt and was unpleasant, but she was not going to give him the satisfaction of giving in. Better men had done worse to her and she relished this little bit of rebellion, a small victory. When he came, Elaine dutifully swallowed it all then glared up at him as his softening cock slipped from her mouth. He backed away, unsure, but she knew he was planning more ways to hurt her.
Greg was next. He drew an “A” and began readying Elaine’s ass for his use. Elaine liked Greg, he was handsome, sophisticated and appreciated a good slave. Greg rubbed one hand on her back and legs while he squirted lube into her backdoor and rubbed it in with the other. Her ass was still a little sore from the pounding she had taken the other night from Roy and Hunter, but the pain was part of what made anal sex so exciting for Elaine. She needed a certain, minimum amount of pain to appreciate what was being done to her. Faybio might never be able to conquer her by fucking her face, but Roy had made her a slave by fucking her ass. She sighed as Greg worked the lube in. She looked over at the couch, Leon and Freddie were laughing about something, generally ignoring her. Faybio sat on a chair and glowered at her, lost in his own thoughts. She looked around and found Roy, he was intently watching her, playing with his chip that had to have the number five on it. She did not know what was going through his mind, but she knew he loved the power he had to make her do this.
Greg pulled his fingers out and she felt the tip of his cock push against her rectum. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her ass. She relaxed, opening herself up to him. He pushed, her ass resisted a little, then he was inside her. A fourth man in the last hour was using he for his pleasure and Elaine was powerless to stop him. She opened her eyes as he slowly filled her, she looked at the other men, all eyes were on her now as Greg took her ass. She could see the gleam of lust and sadism in each one of them, each of them wanting her to be hurt and each of them wanting to hurt her. And Roy would let them, he would get off by seeing her helplessly violated by his friends. She closed her eyes again as she felt Greg bottom out, his hips against her ass.
”You have a great ass, Elaine,” he said to her. “Much better than my slave has. He slid back slowly then rammed in forcefully. You are an amazing fuck,” he said to her as started to pound away at her tender ass. Elaine began to cry out as he roughly fucked her tight brown hole. This was all the pain she craved and more. She bit down on her lip, whimpering while tears streamed down her face. It hurt, but she wanted it.
Greg lasted longer the Leon and longer than Faybio, all with a metronomic precision. Each stroke was just as hard and fast as the one before, each one drove deep into her bowels and pushed her against the sawhorse. She cried and whimpered, but never begged or even asked him to stop. If this was what he wanted to do to her all she could do was take it. When he came, Elaine’s butt was red from being smacked so hard by his hips. She wept softly from relief that is was over as he pulled out of her.
Greg left one hand on her back and turned to Faybio. “That’s how you do it, Dwell,” he taunted. Faybio scowled. Elaine clutched on to the legs of the sawhorse, waiting for her master to take his turn, waiting for the end of this round of her sexual servitude.
Roy pulled the last “A” out of the bag and strode over to his property.
”You’re doing great, slave,” he said to her, rubbing a hand on her sweaty back. He slipped on a condom and rubbed some lube on his cock. “I love seeing you get fucked like this; my sweet, innocent slave.” He squirted a little more lube into her battered asshole then pushed his way into her. “I love making you do this.”
As painful and humiliating as this night had been, Elaine craved Roy in her ass. She knew the feeling of his cock buried in her bowels and loved every second of it. He was affirming his control over her, re-establishing his domination of her in a way none of these other men could do. Faybio might try, but only Roy could truly own her. She had said she loved him, she was not sure of that but she loved what he did to her, she loved that he made her his slave.
She closed her eyes and concentrated solely on Roy plundering her ass. She wanted so much to please him, for her body to bring him pleasure. She could feel waves of pleasure building in her own body, but knew she could not finish herself. If her hands were free, she could touch herself and get that last little bit to bring her over the edge, but she couldn’t, she needed Roy to do it to her.
”Please, Master,” she begged, “please make your slave cum.” She moaned as Roy redoubled his assault on her helpless body.
”Do you deserve to cum, slave,” he asked her.
”Yes, Master, I’ve been a good slave,” she moaned.
”Tell me what I want to hear,” he ordered her.
Elaine knew what he wanted, she wanted to tell him, but not in front of all these other people. She opened her eyes, she saw all the men looking at her, even Anna had her eyes on Elaine as she brought appetizers around. Elaine closed her eyes, she did not want to admit it in front of all these other people, but she knew she had no choice. She wanted to cum so badly and she wanted to please her master by letting everyone know the control he had over her.
”I love you, Master,” she said softly.
”Louder,” Roy said and smacked her ass, “so everyone can hear you.”
“I love you, Master,” she shouted, “I love being your slave. Thank you for making me your slave.” She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see the reactions of Anna and the men. She had just admitted to all of them that she loved the man who had stolen her away from her old life,raped her incessantly, turned her into a fuck toy. She loved him and she loved being tied down and fucked by them all.
”Okay, slave,” Roy said, slowing his thrusts for a minute and reaching under her to find her pleasure bud. “I’ll make you cum.” He held his hand in place against her clit and began pounding her ass, each powerful thrust pushing her clit onto his hand. He slid a finger into her wet slit and that pushed her over the edge. Elaine cried out in relief as a huge orgasm crashed over her, she bucked against his hand, against his penetrating rod. Her arms and legs yanked futilely against her bonds. Even after Roy came he kept playing with her clit and pussy, keeping her on the wave of the orgasm.
When she finally came down, Roy’s cock still in her battered ass, she moaned “thank you, Master,” over and over.
Roy was finished with her and announced to everyone “that’s it for sharing time. We’ll take a little break, then draw for the night, someone will get this pretty slave all to themselves later.” He unhooked Elaine from the sawhorse and helped her to her feet. She was unsteady and still getting the circulation back in her hands.
”Slave,” Roy said softly but firmly, looking into her beautiful blue eyes, “Anna has a round of drinks. I want you to take the tray and bring a drink to each of us . I want you to thank them for what they did to you, too.”
Elaine rubbed her wrists but quickly answered “yes, Master.”
She walked unsteadily into the kitchen. Leon and Faybio were joking about how she was a little more steady on her feet before they all had her. Elaine ignored them and went on with her duties. Anna had a tray of drinks on the counter, she kissed Elaine’s neck then stepped away. Elaine picked up the tray, she was getting her balance back now, but still ached front and back. Carefully, she carried the tray down the stairs to the living room.
She offered the tray to Freddie first. “Thank you for fucking my pussy, sir” she said to him. Freddie nodded, leering at her as he took a glass from the tray.
She walked to Greg next. “Thank you for fucking my ass, sir,” she said, smiling at him.
”You are most welcome, slave,” Greg answered, returning her smile, “it was my pleasure.”
Everyone laughed. Elaine stepped in front of Faybio next. She wanted to sneer or be rude, but she had to obey her master and be polite and servile. “Thank you, sir, for letting me suck your cock,” she said to him.
Faybio snorted and snatched a drink. “If you were mine I’d beat you into submission,” he snarled.
”Well, she’s not yours,” Greg said, “and god help any woman unfortunate enough to be your slave.”
Tense silence hung in the room. Elaine offered the tray to Leon next. She thought he might be a protector if things went bad and wanted to cultivate him. “Thank you, sir, for fucking my pussy,” she said and gave him a winsome smile.
”Oh, she’s good, Roy,” Leon said, reaching out to stroke her thigh.
Elaine smiled then knelt down before Roy, offering the last drink to her owner. “Thank you, Master,” she said, “for being my Master.” He took the last drink, rubbed her head and set the tray down on the coffee table. Elaine sighed and rested her head against her young master’s muscular leg.
Roy raised his glass. “To successful business, gentlemen,” he toasted. They all raised their glasses, toasted then drained the liquor.
They began laughing and telling stories. Elaine sat on the floor, her head on her Master’s leg and thought again about what her life had become. Not too long ago the idea of this, of being a slave, of being gangbanged, would have been inconceivable. Now, it just seemed natural. Her body and soul seemed so alive, so desired. And there was Roy; she sighed and rubbed his calf. She did love him, not in the way of a wife loving her husband, but as a slave loving her owner. She was entirely in his hands, he would do with her as she saw fit and that submission to his will was a freedom in its own right.
Anna came to the table with a stack of white poker chips and a sharpie marker. “Write your names on a chip and toss it in the bag,” Anna said to them. “Elaine will draw a chip, winner gets her for the night. Roy?” she asked. “Are you in this, too?”
“No, Anna,” he answered. “I get her enough. Let someone else enjoy her tonight.”
Elaine somehow knew it would not be him. She hoped it would be Greg and hoped it would definitely not be Faybio, she shuddered at what he might do to her. The rest of the men wrote their names on the chip and tossed them into a bag.
”Elaine,” Roy said, “please draw a name.”
Elaine stood. She reached her hand into the bag, knowing full well that whomever she drew would get to use and abuse her for the rest of the night. She would be giving herself to a name on a chip, because this was what her owner wanted. She fondled the chips, feeling each of the four, the ridges on the edge, the smooth face. She was hoping she could tell something about them, make out a name, but she could not. She gave up, grasped one in her small hand and pulled it out without looking.
”Read the name, slave,” Roy ordered her.
Elaine opened her hand, afraid of seeing Faybio’s name on the white chip. She sighed in relief and read “Freddie.”
“Cheater!” Leon and Faybio both called out at once.
”Come on,” said Freddie, “how could I possibly cheat on that one? I had a one in four chance, just like each of you. I’m just lucky, you all should know that by now. Probability fields distort themselves in my presence,” he said with smug melodrama. “Believe me, if I could have cheated, I would have. But there was no way to rig this one.”
Leon and Faybio grumbled but did not make an issue of it.
”I suddenly seem very tired,” Freddie said with an exaggerated yawn and stretch. “I think I am going to head to bed,” he rose and picked up his clothing. He handed it to Elaine and took her hand. “Come along, slave.” He waved to everyone else. “If I do not see the rest of you in the morning, and I think I’ll be sleeping in, good luck. Let me know how things work out and we’ll take care of the rest from there.”
Elaine held his soft, clammy hand as they walked up the stairs. His hands were not like Hunter’s or Roy’s, they were soft with no calluses or rough skin. But she could also sense a dexterity and nimbleness to them. She could see him stacking a deck of cards or picking a lock. She wondered what they could do to her, could he please a woman with them, too? Did he want to? Would he make her cum with those nimble hands or just pound away at her with his massive cock? And that cock, scared her, too. It was huge, she had felt it in her hot, wet pussy, felt it filling her and pushing past her cervix. It would be in her face, choking her, filling her mouth and entering in her throat. He would stick it in her ass, too. No man seemed to able to resist that and the thought of that monster in her little backdoor really worried her.
Roy watched his slave being led away by Freddie. He enjoyed the thought of Freddie reaming her all night long, of his huge cock boring into her. Freddie was an important man in the organization, he was the one with all the contacts, the one who could make a deal and make the money clean when they were done. He was a genius in his own way and facilitated much of what they did. They could replace security if they really had to, you could always find men like that, maybe not as good or loyal as Hunter and his crew, but finding someone who could arrange the acquisition and sale of illegal weapons was something else. Freddie and Greg had been the brains of the organization long before Roy came on board. And he had a huge cock that he would be using on Elaine all night.
Freddie closed the door behind Elaine and turned on the lights. Elaine looked around the room, Freddie had his bag on the dresser, clothes loosely piled and wrinkled. He added his clothes from today to the pile. He pulled out his phone, scrolled through his messages then dropped it back on top of the pile.
Freddie pulled a chair beside the bed and sat down on it. Elaine’s eyes kept going back to his huge, erect cock. It was just a matter of time before that thing would be inside her, violating her small body, not just once, but all night long. She stared down at her feet, looking at the red nail polish on her toes and waiting for him to decide what to do with her.
Freddie sat on the chair and rubbed his chin as he looked Elaine over. She had already had a busy day. He knew about Greg, and Roy had beamed with pride when he told how she had come into his room on her own for his wake-up blowjob and he had just watched her get fucked by five men. Now there was a glow to her, the kind of glow that came when a woman who needed to be fucked hard and often got what she was after. He smiled, thinking of all the things he was going to do to her.
He snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor in front of him. “Stand here, slave,” he commanded her. Elaine took small steps and stood, naked and vulnerable in front of him. “You have a beautiful body, slave,” he said to her.
”Thank you, sir,” Elaine answered.
”A beautiful body that was made to be fucked,” Freddie added.
”Thank you, sir,” Elaine answered again. She was nervous, not sure what to expect from him. How did he like to use women? Was he rough? Gentle? Did he want to hurt her or just get off himself? Did he want her to cum? What was his cock going to feel like in her ass? Or down her throat?
“Hands above your head,” he ordered her. “Keep them there until I tell you otherwise.”
“Yes, sir,” Elaine obediently placed them above her hand, her small hands clasping her delicate wrists.
Freddie leaned forward in his chair, reached out and caressed the inside of her thighs with his soft hands. There was an expert touch in them, a seeking quality. He seemed to be able to read her from his touch on her silky flesh. Elaine gently pushed her legs into his touch, responding to his exploration of her. He smiled and felt around the back of her legs, reaching up to cup her perfect butt cheeks. She jumped a little as one hand slid down her crack, feeling the smooth skin and the lube from when Greg and Roy had taken her there. One hand began circling her anus while the other reached up between her thighs and into her wetness.
Elaine moaned as his two hands worked on her sensitive areas. The hand on her ass just circled her abused back door, moving up and down her crack without penetrating. The hand in front attacked her wet and ready pussy. Two long fingers entered her while his thumb played with her engorged clit. Elaine closed her eyes as he played her like and instrument. He seemed to know how to get her aroused, how to work her hands, how to excite her nerves. He quickly had her on the edge of an orgasm, almost ready to climax. He held her there, keeping her achingly close without cumming and without letting her drop off. She bit her lip and moaned, wanting that extra bit that would let her orgasm. For several long minutes he did this to her, whenever she tried to move to get off, he backed away just enough to keep her wanting.
She wanted to beg him to finish it, to bring her all the way, but she knew he would not, she knew he wanted her just like this and he might not let her cum at all tonight.
He stopped. Elaine opened her eyes and saw him looking up at her with a gleam in his eyes. “Unless you make me very happy tonight, that is as close as you are going to get,” he told her. “I have no plans to fuck your wet pussy tonight. I do have plans to pound your lovely little bottom and to choke you with my cock. If you are good, maybe, just maybe I will make you cum.” He wiped his finger on her thigh and looked into her beautiful blue eyes. “Now, where should I fuck you first, mouth or ass?”
Elaine realized that this was not a rhetorical question, that he was expecting an answer from her. He wanted her to chose how she would be violated. The thought of his huge cock in either her mouth or ass scared her. She had been hoping for multiple orgasms as he plowed her pussy, but he had told her flat out that that was not going to happen. Her mouth went dry as she saw the impatience growing in his eyes. Finally she mumbled, “mouth, sir.” She did not know why, either way would be unpleasant, but she knew she had to answer.
”What was that, slave?” he asked her sharply.
”In my mouth, sir,” Elaine said, clearly and loudly this time. “Please use my mouth first, sir.”
“Very good, slave,” Freddie purred. “Go lie down on the bed. On your back with your head hanging over the edge. I doubt you can get my cock in your throat kneeling, it’s too big and I’m too hard to be flexible. But first, put your hands behind your back.”
“Yes, sir,” Elaine obeyed and Freddie locked the cuffs together. She lay down on the bed as told, looking at the world upside down, waiting for Freddie to take her.
He got up out of the chair and stood in front of her. He reached down and roughly grabbed her breasts. Elaine squirmed as he pulled on her sensitive nipples. He ran his clammy hands over her body then cradled her head. He kept one hand in her hair and held his cock with the other. He smacked her pretty face a couple of time with his rod, smearing a little pre-cum on her forehead then guided the huge tip to her lips.
Elaine opened her mouth, ready for this violation. Freddie pushed in a fraction of an inch, his tip just barely in her lips, bumping against her teeth. Elaine wanted to please him, wanted to be past this. She kissed the tip and reached out with her tongue, tasting the salty pre-cum. She circled the tip with her tongue, reaching out as far as she could.
”Good start, slave,” he said then entered into her mouth. He stopped when he reached the back of her mouth, just before she would start to gag. She hoped he would push through the gag reflex quickly, that was the part she hated most. He slid back and forth slowly, not penetrating too deeply. “You have a lovely neck, slave,” he complimented her, caressing it with his hands.
Elaine wanted to say thank you, but with a cock in her mouth she could not. Freddie took hold of both sides of her head and stopped. Elaine took a deep breath through her nose and readied herself for what was going to come next. Freddie pushed in, Elaine briefly gagged, her muscles contracting on his huge shaft. He inexorably slid into her throat, stretching and filling her. As she saw his balls approaching her face, Elaine closed her eyes and waited for Freddie to finish. He stopped when he was all the way in, his hairy balls ticking her nose.
”Good job, sweetie,” Freddie said softly and reached down to play with her breasts again. Elaine was slowly choking, unable to breathe while he was in her. “Now the fun starts.” He slid back, all the way out of her, trailing a string of saliva from her as he did. He repeated the process, all the way out and all the way in, over and over. Each time Elaine took a deep gasp of sweet air before he plunged back in again. The worst part was gagging each time, if he just stayed in her it would be better.
He made his strokes shorter , but he still pulled out of her throat and into her mouth each time and each time he battered back past her gag reflex and into her stretched out throat. His strokes were slow, patient, powerful. He took his time, savoring the feel of her around his cock, enjoying watching her squirm and gag. He fucked her throat for a long time, each time he was almost ready to cum, he stopped with the tip of his cock resting in her mouth. He had all night.
Finally, Freddie was ready to finish. He grabbed her by the tops of her bound arms and furiously fucked her face, bouncing his balls off her nose, roughly violating her mouth and throat. With a deep moan he finished, shooting his cum deep in her throat and down into her stomach. He patted her face and let his cock slip from her mouth, leaving a trail of spit and cum down her cheek and forehead.
”Very nice,” he panted and flopped down beside her on the bed. Elaine’s eyes were watering and she opened and closed her mouth, trying to stretch her jaw muscles. She hoped that that was the worst of the night, as much as she knew it would hurt having him in her ass, it had to better than that.
Freddie scooted Elaine up on the bed and rolled her on her side facing him. He ran his hand down her side, from neck to knee, tracing the curve of her body. Elaine closed her eyes and lost herself in his touch, he might be cruel, but he had a nice touch and knew how to use his hands.
”Would you like to talk, slave?” Freddie asked Elaine.
She did not want to speak to him, she just wanted him to do whatever it was he was going to do to her. But she was curious, she had seen a lot happening today and wanted to know what was going on.
”Yes, sir,” Elaine said. “May I ask you a question?”
“You may ask, slave,” Freddie said and stroked her cheek. “You have beautiful eyes, Elaine. Keep them open.”
“Yes, sir,” Elaine said and asked, “Freddie, what’s going to happen tomorrow?”
“They are going to walk into a trap,” Freddie said with a sigh.
“If they know it’s a trap, why are they going?” Elaine asked, shocked.
“Because they know it’s a trap,” Freddie sighed. “They know, they are prepared for it and it’s better to fight the fight there then someplace else where they don’t know the ground or the situation. Hunter and his crew are already up there, searching, getting ready. I’m sure Roy has a few tricks up his sleeve.”
“Are you going?” Elaine stared into his nearly black eyes.
“No. Greg and I are the brains and money,” Freddie’s hand reached back and cupped Elaine’s butt. “We’re no good in a fight and would just be in the way. We will stay back here, out of the firing line. Leon, Roy and Faybio will be heading up with the goods.”
“Faybio? Really?” Elaine was surprised.
“Don’t let his appearance tonight fool you,” Freddie answered with a hint of irritation in his voice. “He may be a prick, but he’s good in a fight. As long as he doesn’t have to think about getting hurt or losing he’s fine. He’s quick and a great shot. And, if things go really bad, he can always absorb bullets.”
She stood over him, highly annoyed. She hadn’t expected him to be totally useless afterwards!
“Stupid fucking bill collectors.” She kicked his leg hard. “Wake up. Wake up!”
He groaned as he came to, his leg aching. “Wha…what…happened? Why am I on the floor?”
She studied him for a minute as she mentally patted herself on the back. He was sexy, even if he was dull. Dark hair, hazel eyes, and a cleft chin that she wanted to dip her tongue into.
She frowned. “You passed out. Do you have a condition? You should get that checked out.”
He stood unsteadily, his head swimming. “I…I came to talk about your bill——”
“Look, jackass!” Her hands were on her hips now. “You did a good job, so my check is in the mail.” She turned and went over to the front door. “Now get the fuck out of my house before I call the cops.”
He left, but the nagging feeling that something big had happened wouldn’t leave him alone.
Why couldn’t he remember anything past knocking on her door?
What did she mean about him doing a good job?
And why did his entire body feel so drained?
He shook his head and drove back to the office.
She watched through the blinds as he drove off.
What a delicious day!
She walked over to the bookshelf and plucked Catch-22 from its spot. There was a video recorder mounted on the spine. She extracted the memory card, went to her computer, and loaded the video.
Pressing play, she sank comfortably into her plush desk chair and relived the incidents from earlier…
An hour ago:
“Hello asshole. You awake?”
She peered down at him as he stirred, groaning.
He blinked. His head was on fire. It felt like someone had hit him with a brick! Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out the shards of ceramic on the floor. His eyes widened. The bitch had hit him with a vase!
She smirked. “You should never just walk into someone’s house. Even if the door is unlocked. Never know what sort of trouble you could get into.”
He slowly looked up. A caramel-toned woman wearing a short silk robe was leaning over him.
He could see her nipples through the silk material, and from the looks of it, she was completely naked underneath. Totally transfixed by her big breasts, he wanted nothing more than to bury his face between them. He reached up for her…and was stopped short. It took a few moments for him to realize that his hands were bound together.
“Look at you. Can’t really move, can you? You shouldn’t have come to my house.”
She looked at him indignantly. “Trying to collect money from me!”
He began to struggle with the rope.
She smirked. “Oh, I see you have a little fight in you! Let me fix that for you.”
As she tightened the rope around his wrists, he studied her face. She was a beauty, with eyes as dark as coal and lusciously full lips. Right now though, those lips were turned up into a snarl as she continued to rant.
“You know,” she began, as she checked the ropes from every angle, “the funny thing about giving people credit is that some people aren’t motivated to pay it back. I just happen to be one of those people. And you picked the wrong day to come harassing me.”
She poked him in the face with the handle of a black whip that he hadn’t noticed her holding.
“Put your head back.” She straddled his face, her short robe lifting up. He noticed immediately that she had on no panties underneath.
“Smell my pussy.”
She rubbed her clit forcefully. Her pussy was clean-shaven except for a small patch of hair right above her clit. Saliva began to build up in his mouth as he watched her fingers alternate between squeezing and flicking the pink nub. There was a green captive ring through her hood, and he wondered what she would do if he tugged it with his teeth.
She squatted down further, almost suffocating him. She didn’t like how silent he was being.
“What’s it smell like, huh?”
She spread the lips apart so he could see and smell her pussy in all its glory. Inside was her deep pink hole. She sat directly on the tip of his nose and he could feel her pussy contracting. He pressed his nose into her warmth. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, and felt warm liquid dribbling down his lips. She smelled faintly of soap.
Suddenly, she stood and rotated so that her ass was in his face. She resisted the urge to turn and look at what had to be an incredulous look on his face.
She bent over and the robe glided with her, exposing her round ass. His breath hitched as she lowered it into his face. His heavy breathing tickled her pussy lips.
Ignoring the sensation, she growled. “Sniff my ass hole.”
She grabbed his thighs for support as she lifted up and down on his face. He moaned, almost in pain, at her words. She was so erotic. So nasty. And his dick liked it. It swelled in his pants, and he wanted nothing more than to reach down and stroke it while she bounced on his face.
Watching his growing erection, she laughed. She held her ass cheeks apart and sat back on his face. “Smells good, doesn’t it? Smells like sweet fucking chocolate.”
At her words, his tongue darted out and flicked her swollen pussy. She reached back and popped him in the mouth. “I didn’t say you could lick it!”
She sat back on his face and he licked her again. She smacked him again. “You don’t listen well.”
She began to bounce her ass on his face, and the pungent smell of pussy filled his nostrils. He broke his silence for the first time, drawing in ragged breaths.
Standing back up, she grabbed the whip and leaned casually against the wall. He strained his neck, trying to see what she was doing. When his eyes could focus without him feeling dizzy, he almost blew his load.
She had taken the handle of the whip and was rubbing it up and down her clit. With her free hand, she was squeezing her pussy lips together. She moaned as the cool leather scraped against her sensitive clit.
Noticing that she had an audience, she hiked her leg up against the wall, and inserted the handle into her pussy. The handle was textured and rough, and she could feel herself getting wetter as she shoved it in and out. Pulling it back out, she admired her handiwork. He could see the leather glistening with her clear juices.
She walked back over to him and bent down. “I really liked that vase, too. Guess you’re gonna have to make it up to me. I’m gonna get exactly what I want from you today.”
She pushed the handle up against his lips. “Open your mouth.”
He refused, wondering what she would do.
When his lips remained sealed, she ground her foot into his crotch. Moaning in pain, he obeyed. She gripped the whip at the end, pushing the handle deep into his mouth. “Yeah, suck it baby. Suck it.”
He sucked on the handle enthusiastically. It was covered in her sticky cum and tasted so sweet.
She pushed it deeper until he began to gag around it. Somehow, though, his dick was still as hard as before.
She squealed in pleasure. “Oh, you’re a fucking whore! Who knew a guy could suck it so well?”
Reclaiming the whip, she untied her robe and her breasts popped out. “I got something for that hard dick.”
He watched as she massaged each one. The brown globes were the size of melons. She teased him, smashing them together.
His dick was straining through his pants, forming an outline. She ran her fingers down his crotch and squeezed it.
Pointedly looking at his erection, she straddled him again and slowly lowered herself onto his dick, massaging just the tip with her glistening pussy lips.
He involuntarily moaned as she teased him for several minutes. Finally, she lowered herself all the way, rubbing her clit as she tried to adjust to his size.
He moaned again. “Oh…it feels so goddamn good.”
She laughed maliciously and suddenly lifted herself off him. He cursed at the loss.
She grinned. “Relax, sexy. I’m almost ready for you.”
In a snap decision, she unraveled the ropes binding his hands.
He immediately sat up and caressed her breasts. Gently holding one in each hand, he took turns kissing and sucking them. She gasped as pleasure and heat shot through her.
Slightly shocked, she stuck her tongue out at him. He surprised her by grabbing her face and kissing her lustfully.
His tongue swirled around hers, searching. She moaned a little and then pushed him back into a sitting position, ending the kiss.
She smirked. “You’re gonna fuck me, and fuck me good.”
He grinned and nodded. Who the fuck was this woman and why weren’t there more like her?
Before he could think anything else, she straddled him and began to ride him. Electricity shot through him as she arched her body up and down.
Every time she slammed down on his dick, her breasts bounced into his face. He put one in his mouth and sucked it, grinning when she made a primal sound.
Recovering, she let go of his shoulders to reach behind her. He frowned, trying to figure out what she was doing, then gasped as she spread her ass cheeks and continued to ride him. He squeezed his eyes shut as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through him. She was clenching and unclenching her pussy muscles, and it was driving him crazy.
Gripping his neck, she suddenly leaned forward and bit his lip.
“It’s so good I’ma have to let you fuck my ass.”
Flipping her over, he palmed both cheeks of her plump, round ass and jiggled them hard.
She looked back impatiently. “C’mon, baby. Give it to me!” She slapped her ass, hard. “You’re not afraid, are you?”
He arched an eyebrow and thrust all the way into her ass. She squealed as he rammed into her.
Damn, her ass was so tight, even tighter than her pussy, and he could feel that familiar tension building in his ball. So, he slowed down, pumping deeper. He concentrated on the small of her back as he thrust.
His concentration went to shit when she suddenly squeezed around his dick and begin to slam back, matching him pump for pump.
That intense ache in his balls came back, and he suddenly wondered if she was as affected by this as he was.
He grabbed her by the chin and forced her to turn as he fucked her, watching the expression on her face move between pleasure and pain. Her eyes were closed, but the intensity on her face made him drive even deeper into him.
She opened her eyes and locked them on his, licking her lips naughtily. That little move sent him over the edge.
She smirked when he exploded inside, and fell over, breathing heavily.
With a grunt, she pushed him off her and turned around. Her eyebrows raised in annoyance.
sThe fucker was passed out!
Shaking her head, she got up. She found the discarded jeans and tank that she had initially greeted him in, and scooped them up.
Glancing back over at him, she verified that he was completely dead to the world, and then walked over to the bookcase.
She ran her finger along the spines of several until she found the one she was looking for. Her fingers ran up the spine, and she felt around until she found the stop button.
Erin gets a bed
He was right, the pain didn’t last long. It was the memory of the lead-up to the blow that had really terrorized her. Had she thought about it, she might have realized that that had been his purpose.
“Now its your turn again,” he said patting her on the shoulder. “I want you to have an energy drink so you can continue to be your vivacious self. Fucking ten guys two or three times can sap a girl’s strength. And you need to have something left over for your boyfriend. Once you’ve rested and had a pick-me-up you will get to decide who will fuck you first. Sit here on my lap,” he sat in a straight back chair as he spoke. He pulled her down to his naked lap. The rickety chair complained loudly when she added her weight to his. It complained more as he maneuvered her so that she sat with his hard cock pushed up between her legs.
“That’s right,” he said as one of the men handed him two bottles of energy drink. He took one for himself and gave her one. A bottle was passed to each of the men as well. Waiting for the next act, they stood or lounged around, their cocks generally drooping so that it was impossible to read the letters she had put on each. Their conversation was quiet and not directed toward the girl, nor did they spend much time looking at her.
The man with the whip took her breast and with his tongue ministered to the small welt across her nipple. True to his word the welt was minor and the pain was virtually gone. Though he sucked thoughtfully on her nipple, it did not respond, so great was her fear of what was to come. He seemed neither dismayed nor put off, but kept up the sucking. He added to it by forcing her legs apart and locating her clit to which he applied lotion he had had brought to him.
Ten minutes passed and the energy drink was lifting them all. He nudged the girl from his lap saying, “Well, which is to be first?”
She hadn’t been thinking about it. How could it matter, they would all have her one way or another. And didn’t he say they had already chosen? “Don’t tell me you don’t have a decision. It’s almost too soon for me to have the pleasure of hurting you again!” His voice was jovial and he swatted her butt.
“Oh, no,” she said finally starting to learn to play along. “There’s just so many to chose from.”
“Well, have you made a choice,” he said insistently.
“I have,” she said with finality. The energy drink had given her confidence as well. “I want to have your cock inside me first.” She took his cock in her hand. She tried to look at him as well. She wanted a warm, sexy smile to appear, but all she was able to muster was a tight, frightened smile.
“Ah,” he said, “you aren’t saving the best for last.”
“Can you find something for me to lie on,” she asked. “I’m afraid someone as big as you will break me into pieces if all I have to lie on is this hard floor.” She stood close to him with her hands under his shirt. She dragged her nails lightly down his chest. When he didn’t respond immediately, she took his hand and pressed his open palm against her thigh. She slowly moved it until it was firmly between her legs. Here she imprisoned it pushing it hard against her body and squeezing her legs together.
“OK,” he said, “we can’t have you broken and smushed.”
With one victory in place she tried for another. “Let’s give Ken some energy drink. You want to watch me fuck him, don’t you,” she asked coyly. “I don’t want him to be running on reserves. I want his cock to be big and hard. Let me have a bottle and I’ll help him drink it.”
Almost like magic a hand holding a bottle draped itself over her left shoulder. She felt the man brushing his naked hips against her butt. The hand was dirty. There was black grease under his nails. The wrist and forearm were tattooed.
Instead of letting her revulsion take charge she took the bottle and making no effort to move away slowly wriggled her butt against him. She felt his cock harden. His right hand came from behind encircling her. He made no further move so holding the bottle in one hand she used the other to carefully place his dirty hands on her breasts, one at a time. She leaned against him as he luxuriated in the feel of her nipples against the palms of his hands.
As he enjoyed her nakedness she said in a voice she hoped was seductive, “Who is going to make me a decent bed?” She then twisted shyly away from them and moved to help Ken with his energy drink.
“I need some help with this gag,” she called over to the men helplessly. “I can’t reach it.” They had pulled Ken almost to his full height putting the knot of his gag out of her reach. She stood alongside him hands in the air to demonstrate her helplessness, and, hopefully, to give them the full view of her body as she stood with her legs well spread.
One of the men moved slowly over to where she stood, staring all the while at her. He stopped and fondled her breasts, ran his fingers through the forbidden curls, but when he began to insert a finger, she took hold of his hand. It was dirty with dirty nails like the others. She brought it to her mouth and touched it with her tongue, then slipped into her mouth. She sucked it for a moment, then, removing it, she said, “Would you please cut your finger nails so I can enjoy having your fingers inside me?”
Embarrassed, he looked at his nails. She took the hand and once more put it in her mouth. She smiled at him as she let it go.
He untied Ken’s gag, then began looking for something to make his nails acceptable to the pretty girl.
She helped Ken drink. “Do we have water here as well,” she asked brightly. Water was forthcoming. It was actually bottled water which she shared with Ken. Many of those about to fuck this pretty girl took a bottle as well.
Slowly she was asserting some level of control over her captives. It might not save their lives, but it might make their last hours more comfortable.
A bed of sorts had come together. It was made from jackets and coats and a few old chair cushions. A tarp lined the bottom. The jackets were opened so that someone lying on them would be lying on the fleece lining. It had been constructed near the only source of heat.
Erin walked over as though to inspect it. She walked slowly. She used each step to accent her beauty and nakedness. Wanting to be too beautiful to cast away after they used her, she crossed the dingy room with a gait that made her white hips sway and gave bounce to her full breasts. At the bed she leaned over it displaying the smooth conical lines of her breasts with their rosy nipples, and affording a heart stopping view of her pussy and her ass.
She inspected the bed in a coquettish manner then turned to the men. “Thank you, gentlemen. This may not be heaven, but it sure beats that cold floor.” She sat, then lay on it. She extended her arms and said, “I’m ready. Where’s that first big boy?” She spread her legs widely as she bent her knees.
If she was going to have to do this, she wanted it as much on her terms as possible.
The whip was gone when he made his way to her. Standing over her, his cock hard, he was a different man. Or perhaps he had become only a man. His rough mocking of her; his declaration of wanting to hurt her was gone from his expression. He looked at the girl he was about to plunder with only lust in his mind. His cock bobbed as he looked at the pussy she had opened for him. Red curls framed it’s entrance. He stared wantonly at the lovely shape of her breasts. “Take off that shirt,” she said, breaking into his lustful thoughts, adding, “Please,” when a flash of anger crossed his face.
He was not sure what to make of the change in roles, but looking at her beautiful, naked body, he took off his shirt and dropped it alongside the makeshift bed. He dropped to his knees. She took his cock and guided it inside. “Fill me,” she whispered in his ear.
She wasn’t wet making his thrusts painful. He didn’t seem to notice and kept thrusting slowly as though savoring the feel of his cock inside her. Slow was better for her. Her lubrication began to wet her passage for his cock, though it was more in response to presence of his cock than from sexual excitement.
Surprisingly even at this slow pace it was not long before she felt him stiffen and his cock swell just before he erupted. His cum provided lubricant and with this lubrication he became more ardent in his thrusting. A second climax, then he lay on top of her savoring the thrill of cuming in this beautiful woman. She whispered to him, “Thank you. Your cock feels really good inside me.”
Urging from the others to relinquish his position had him leaving her pussy much too soon. Another took his place. As he knelt Erin whispered to him, “I don’t care what I wrote on your cock, you can have me any way you want me.” But as she said this she guided his cock into her pussy. He did not argue and began thrusting immediately.
He finished and another took his place. Erin was no longer feeling them. She felt as if she were just an observer. As they lay atop her she noticed that though their hands were dirty, their bodies were generally clean. Their odor was that of sweat from a day’s work rather that of men who seldom bathed. Tattoos were de rigor for arms and chests she noticed. For some the tattoos covered even backs and legs. The tattoos were of women and masculine totems and sayings. They were, she mused, not at all original. They were well-done, expensive perhaps, but ordinary.
In spite of these tattoos and the force they had used to get Ken and her to submit, the men seemed to be less violent and even less macho than they had earlier. They were polite even as they were forcing themselves on her.
They had become considerate. Someone had located a bag of clean shop towels so she could clean herself. One of these towels was placed between her legs to absorb the cum which drained. Other jackets and items of comfort were added to the bed as they were located. She was given another bottle of water, then a bathroom break.
When one asked for use of her ass, she had only to request lubricant before they all went in search of the best they could find. A first aid box yielded an ointment which she was shown for her approval.
Others watched while she examined the ointment ostensibly for its lubricating qualities. She looked up at them giving her approval with a smile of gratefulness. To the man whose cock was about to invade her bowels she said, “No one’s ever done this to me before, so be very careful.” She lied.
“Let me see how big your cock is,” she asked him. She opened her mouth slightly and licked her lips. He knelt where she lay and showed it to her. She stroked it to its full dimensions. “Ooo,” she cooed, “this is so big. Do you think it will hurt.” She looked him in the eye while continuing to stroke. She stroked him harder as he sought to answer. She kissed it and whispered to it, “You be careful in there.”
“I’ll be very careful,” he replied with great sincerity.
She rolled onto her stomach, then brought her knees up leaving her head on the seat cushion pillow. The vinyl creaked as she tried to find a comfortable place for her forehead. Her breasts hung forward her nipples grazing the seat cushion. Her hips moved enticingly as she ostensibly tried to find a soft place for her knees.
Dipping his finger in the ointment he began the lubrication. She allowed herself to concentrate on the sensuality of having his finger swirling around her ass as he carefully rubbed the ointment on and around her wrinkled opening. She tried to relax it. “Put some of that nice stuff inside as well,” she directed him. She wriggled her hips as he worked.
Like the rest, he had trimmed his finger nails so the finger that sought to open her did not have a nail which would cut or tear her. He slowly worked this finger inside. The others watched in silence stroking themselves as her hole was slowly opened and lubricated. They watched as she flexed the muscles of her pussy as he lubed and opened her small hole.
Finally, tired of waiting, she said softly, “OK big boy, but take it easy.”
He rose onto his knees. He looked at the beautiful ass that was waiting patiently for his cock. He’d fantasized about fucking a beautiful girl in the ass and now it was going to happen. He guided his cock to her hole and began to push.
“Please be easy,” she admonished him. She tried to relax. The cock was not large, but neither was her hole. She felt it opening as the head began its entrance. “OK, slow,” she said.
He continued to push. The head continued to make progress. He kept up a constant pressure until it was finally inside. She felt no sexual thrill, only the pressure of his cock filling her. As he began to thrust he found he could hold back no longer. With rapid, deep thrusts he speedily achieved his long held desire to butt fuck a beautiful woman.
It hurt her. Finally, thankfully, with a gasp she felt him cum inside her. “Thank you, thank you,” she said as breathlessly as she could manage. He kept fucking. She kept thanking him until finally he pulled out.
“Wow,” he gasped, “that was great.”
She got to her knees and pulled the towel so it caught the cum dribbling from her. “I need to clean up a bit.” She got to her feet and headed to the bathroom where she was able to make use of warm water. She did not take long. She knew the night ahead would be lengthy. She agonized about wanting to get it over quickly and being afraid that when it ended, she and Ken would be killed.
“I’m next,” greeted her when she returned. He stood naked at her bed. He was big, just plain big. He stood well over six feet. His combination of muscle and fat weighted a good three hundred pounds. She tried to smile.
“OK,” was all she could muster.
“You said you’d suck me off.” He proudly displayed a letter M on his shaft holding it for her to see. Then he leaned to her ear and said, “I’ve never had a blow job before.”
She cocked her head to the side to take a look at what it was she would be putting in her mouth and saw a rather slender, but hard cock. Plainly lettered on it was an a A on one side on the other was an M. Its size had made her think this one could go in her ass without doing too much damage. He, however, searching for the blow job he had never had, had picked up the pen and put a letter M on the other side. He had covered her A when he displayed his cock to her.
There is certainly no sense in calling him on the lettering, she thought. Maybe I’ll live longer if I give him what he wants and what no one has ever done for him before. She began to kneel.
“Could I feel your tits first,” he whispered in her ear sounding a bit like a school boy. “Sure,” she said in the same whispered voice, “if I can play with that big cock of yours.”
“Oh, god,” he muttered as he took hold of her breasts while she began stroking his cock. Clearly the feel of her breasts was more than he could handle. Erin kept hold of his cock while he enjoyed her breasts and gave him the best hand job she knew how. With long, slow strokes followed by shorter ones she plied her hands back and forth. She cupped and stroked his balls and lightly rubbed the head of his cock.
It was more than he had ever experienced before. He was unable to wait. At the end of a long stroke while her hand cupped the head of his cock he filled her hand with cum. Delighted she stroked and milked his cock until it stopped dripping.
He still had hold of her breasts. Disappointment showed in his face. She knew that only a blow job would satisfy his dream so she whispered, “Would it be OK if I sucked your cock even though you’ve cum already?” He nodded vigorously. He may have been drooling, she noted. She pulled him around so she could kneel on the “bed” then took him in her mouth. He was already so hot from having been masturbated and having spent so much time feeling her breasts that it took only minutes before he came. She let him cum in her mouth, though she did not swallow. She kept up the sucking and the stroking with her tongue for several minutes while she let the cum run down her chin. “Thank you, thank you,” he said excitedly as he pulled from her mouth. “That was wonderful.”
“If you get hard again, come back and I’ll do you again, or you might want to try my pussy.”
Voices around her applauded her performance. No elation filled her, she knew this meant there would more wanting to cum in her mouth.
As the last left another took his place almost literally elbowing the man out of his way. He held his cock out for Erin to take in her mouth. She shifted a bit to find more padding under her knees. He grew impatient so she took his cock in her hand. “Hang on a minute, big boy,” she said. “I don’t want to miss having that big cock in my mouth.” This seemed to satisfy him.
Realizing her problem, he moved a jacket under her knees and once again presented his cock to her mouth. It stretched her mouth. She found that she was just able to accommodate it, though her jaws ached. As soon as he was able to get it inside her mouth he began to fuck her face. She struggled to maintain her balance as he thrust his cock to her throat, pulled it back, and thrust again. She pulled away. She held his balls stroking them. She used her tongue to excite his tip, then looked up at him. “I won’t be any good to you dead, big boy. Please go slow so that big cock of yours doesn’t suffocate me.”
She licked his balls while she used her nail lightly on the tip of his cock. Using her tongue she excited him licking from his balls to the tip of his cock with long strokes. “Be easy,” she asked, “my mouth just isn’t big enough for that big cock of yours.”
“I’ll find some other way,” he said churlishly.
“Sure, OK.” Erin didn’t know what that meant, but it seemed better than being suffocated.
“Lay back,” he commanded.
She lay on her back and spread her legs. She figured her pussy could handle that cock a lot better than her mouth. He knelt and and without preamble rammed his cock inside. She let out a loud, startled cry.
“Ivan,” he called.
The man with the whip came over and looked down at them. “What’s wrong,” he asked. The whip moved like a snake in his hand.
“She wouldn’t give me a blow job and now she complaining about just fucking me,” he complained.
“Get up, Erin,” his face had clouded. His grip had tightened on the whip.
“No, no, that’s not it,” she pleaded.
“Please just listen to me. Please don’t hit me,” her pleading was non stop as she saw her control over the situation return to the terror she had felt initially.
“Shut up,” his face was beet red. She quieted. There was no saving her from the punishment.
She trembled as she looked at him, waiting.
“How many lashes,” he demanded.
“One,” her voice was small and pleading. She was practically doubled over in fear of the lash. Her hands and arms covered her most vulnerable places.
“That’s not enough.”
“Oh, god, I can’t stand many. Please, just one.”
“Not enough I said and neither is two. Give me a number or I’ll make it twenty-five.”
She grew lightheaded at the thought of so many. “Would five be enough,” she asked pleadingly dreading the thought of so many.
“Oh, god,” she trembled remembering the earlier blows. She had been alternating between looking into his face and watching the whip as its tip danced on the floor. Now she noticed that his cock was hard again. Her whipping was going to be his sexual excitement.
“Pussy or tits?”
“Could you hit me on my butt?”
“Turn around, bend over, and spread your legs.” She turned around to offer her butt to him for punishment. As she did she came to face Ken. Looking at him she saw he was hard. He was excited by the punishment she was about to receive. He getting off watching her. Now he was hard at the thought of her being whipped. The puddle of cum at his feet showed he had cum while he watched her being fucked.
My wife was standing naked in front of our bedroom mirror. Again.
This has become a regular occurrence over the last couple months, as her self-image has slowly but steadily plummeted. When we wed ten years ago, she was a certified ten: five foot eight inches, chestnut hair, a slender, toned body and a girl-next-door face that would soften the heart of the cruelest dictator.
But in her mind, breast-feeding our twin boys (now three years old and spending the week at my parents’), and motherhood in general, had severely impacted her body. I could not disagree more.
As I sat on the bed behind her, I admired her supple cheeks, not as firm as they were in college, but still shapely and fun to squeeze. Her legs had lost some of the definition they acquired when we would jog, but they would still draw the attention of a crowd when adorned in a miniskirt. Despite her negative opinion of herself, most people would still consider her a catch.
She ran her fingers over the lingering scar from the cesarean, and her palms slid over the stretch marks, faded but prevalent. I had tried to convince her in the past that she should be proud of these.
“Sweetheart, scars are pretty bad-ass,” I had argued. “Especially ones from which life is extracted.” But she wasn’t having it.
Cupping her breasts in her hands, lifting them to where they used to rest at peak perkiness, her eyes closed in disappointment. I watched her reaction in the mirror.
“Honey,” I said. “You know you are still as beautiful as ever.”
“You have to say that,” she retorted, turning back from the mirror and climbing into bed. She slid under the sheets and turned her back to me, a familiar sequence since our sons joined the family.
“Just because I have to say it doesn’t mean it isn’t true, Nicole,” I offered as I slid behind her and put my hand on her waist.
“I’m sorry honey, but I don’t believe you. And I’m not in the mood,” she said, removing my hand and turning back into her cocoon.
I rolled onto my back and huffed loudly, my only way of expressing how frustrating our lack of intimacy was becoming.
“Just try to cheer up a bit before Heather and Mark come over tomorrow for dinner. You won’t make much of a host in your current state.”
She remained quiet, either because she was ignoring me or because she had already drifted asleep.
Heather and Mark lived across the street, and though they were twelve years our senior, at 46, we were closer to them than any of our other neighbors. Since our kids were born, we did not have as much time for hosting them, or even visiting them, for that matter. But with our boys at my parents’ house for the week, we decided to ask them to dinner.
After I had set the table and Nicole had prepared dinner, she ran upstairs to get dressed. I followed her, hoping to have a say in what she would wear.
“Honey, why don’t you put this one on,” I said, pulling out a simple but sexy black dress. “You have always been a knockout in this.”
Nicole had already pulled on a pair of jeans and was picking out a low cut, tight fitting t-shirt. “I don’t think so, love,” she said. “It is not that formal a party.”
“This isn’t over the top, and it might make you feel a little sexier, don’t you think?”
Nicole shook her head, visibly frustrated that I was trying to help her get dressed, and not wanting to think about her body image. “I’m happy with this,” she said, pulling on the shirt.
She did look good. The jeans hugged her in all the right places, and her shirt and bra provided about four inches of cleavage. While her breasts had sagged a bit, they still looked ample when stuffed in a bra.
I returned downstairs as Nicole worked on her hair. Pacing, expecting Heather and Mark in a few minutes, I pondered ways to convince Nicole that I truly think she is sexy, and that others do, too. I picked up the phone and kept my eyes on the top of the stairs to make sure she wasn’t on her way down.
Heather answered, “Hello?”
“Heather, its John. Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Nicole has been incredibly down on herself lately. Could you make a big deal about how great she looks tonight?”
“Sure, of course I will. Do you want me to ask Mark to say something, too? It might seem obvious coming from me.”
“OK, whatever you think,” I said. “So long as you think he can do it without it seeming awkward.”
Heather laughed, forcing me to hold the phone away from my ear. “I think he can manage,” she said.
Nicole had prepared roasted chicken with balsamic reduction, alongside mushroom risotto and ginger carrots. She had learned from her mother, the best cook I ever knew, and managed the kitchen so meticulously that her dinner presentations were flawless. Even if she was down on her body image, I knew she felt confident in the kitchen. Her meals commanded applause, were that kind of thing socially acceptable.
I, always in search of a new wine to pair with her cuisine, had decanted two bottles of negroamaro from Puglia. Dark, rustic and earthy, with oaky notes and leathery accents, it accentuated every nuance in Nicole’s fare, which only inspired us to drink it faster. The manner in which the four of us consumed Nicole’s cooking was a cross between scarfing and savoring. Her food flew off the plate to a chorus close-lipped accolades.
As we finished our meal and I poured the last of the decanter into our guests’ glasses the customary compliments started flowing.
“Everything was delicious!” Mark exclaimed. “Thanks so much, Nicole.”
“I second that,” said Heather. “We never eat so well as when we eat here.”
“I feel like I am the luckiest man in the world,” I said. “A wife who looks like this AND can cook!”
“Honey, please!” Nicole blushed as I put my arm around her shoulders. PDA was not her thing.
“You really did luck out, pal,” said Mark. He opened his mouth as if to continue, but stopped himself. I had a feeling he was going to say something borderline crude and thought better of it.
Heather, however, had clearly been impacted by the two bottles of wine we had consumed.
“I’m sorry to be so blunt, Nicole, but your tits look fucking amazing in that top!”
Nicole’s eyes shot wide and her face reddened deeper, and I coughed the water I had just sipped back into its glass. The room fell silent for about three seconds, and then erupted in laughter. Even Nicole mustered a chuckle.
It was a contagious laughter, we all fed each other, around the table, it lasted minutes.
It ended abruptly, unfortunately, when, after taking one last swig of wine, Mark took things too far.
“Hell,” he said. “I’d fuck ‘em!” The room again fell silent, but this time no laughter followed.
Heather backhanded him across the chest. “What the fuck, babe?” she chastised.
“That is just a little too familiar, don’t you think?” I said.
“Hey man, I was just trying to help you out,” he defended.
I shut my eyes and my heart fell to my stomach. My well-intended ploy was revealed.
“What?” Nicole asked. “What does that mean?”
“N…Nothing,” he said. “I’ve said too much.”
“You think!?” I said in an elevated tone just short of yelling.
“Did you ask them to say things like that?” Nicole asked me.
“No, babe. Why would I do that?”
Nicole looked across the table, where Mark and Heather were confessing simply by avoiding eye contact with her.
“Unbelievable,” she said as she slid her chair back and stormed out of the room.
I sat there breathing heavily, trying to calm my nerves.
“Sorry, man,” said Mark. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Me neither,” I said. “I should have just left well enough alone. I’m not mad at you.”
Heather and Mark excused themselves, officially ending the night. When I went upstairs, the bedroom door was locked.
“Go away,” she said firmly.
“Honey, please. I did not ask Mark to say anything like that! Yes, I asked Heather if she would complement you, but I never intended for Mark to be so vulgar. I’m sorry!”
I sensed that this could be a pivotal point in our marriage, and was already stressing about how large a wedge might have been driven between us.
Nicole opened the door for a brief second, only to throw my pajamas and a suit in my face, and then slammed the door shut. I took the hint. Sleep on the couch and go to work the next morning without speaking to her.
Returning to the couch, I realized it wasn’t all bad. Without her lying right next to me, at least I could masturbate now. I took advantage, closing my eyes and envisioning that one glorious orgasm I had elicited from her nearly four years ago now. It was all I needed. Finding release for the first time in nearly two weeks, I finished in to my sock and drifted asleep.
The following afternoon is when this story really became interesting. I had spent all day at work fretting about the night before, and decided to bail early and try to smooth things over with Nicole. When I pulled into the driveway, I noticed the house seemed deserted, which was confirmed when I stepped inside and called for Nicole.
For a few minutes, I was worried she had taken off, maybe to her mother’s, perhaps to the spa. I walked to our bedroom and, not finding her, leaned against the window sill and let my forehead fall against the glass.
What was I doing? If Nicole was so disappointed in her image, and she wouldn’t believe anyone but herself, why was I so insistent on making her feel better? I was fighting a losing battle.
Still, I knew I would persist. I would persist because I loved her, and above all else, I wanted her to be happy. From the first time we made love to the last, I always made sure she came first. All I ever wanted from sex was to bring her extreme satisfaction.
My all-time greatest image was of her moaning beneath me, her arms wrapped around my back as her hips gently bucked off the mattress towards my thrusting, throbbing member. Our lips were interlocked, tongues dancing, my hand on her right breast. Together, we screamed in orgasm as her clasping pussy sucked the cum right out of me. It was incredible.
It was also the night we conceived, and we have yet to repeat it. My dream has been to bring that moment back to life, for me but especially for her. The passion and pleasure in her face that night was undeniable and ineffable. Bringing her to that level of elation once only made me yearn to do it again and again.
As the memory of that beautiful night passed, I opened my eyes and as startled to see Nicole scurrying across the street from Heather and Mark’ house. Relieved, I ran downstairs to greet her.
She was walking in the house as I reached the living room.
“John!” she shouted, more in shock than in joy. “What are you doing home?”
“Babe, I came home to apologize for last night. I want to clear the air.”
“Oh,” she said. “It’s OK. I realize now that you were just trying to prop me up.”
“Exactly! There were probably better ways to go about it, but you never believe me when I say it. I thought I would have to bring in support. I just didn’t expect Mark to go all perverted on you.”
“Yeah, that was a little shocking.”
“Did you just come from talking with Heather?”
“No,” she admitted. “Mark, actually.”
She could tell from the cockeyed look on my face that I needed more of an explanation.
“I needed to clear things up with him. I don’t want one drunken comment to affect the strong relationship the four of us have built.”
“I see,” I said. “What did he say?”
“Well, it was a little awkward, I guess. He said that Heather told him you had called and asked her to be complimentary last night. And that she, in turn, asked him to back her up. He said that even though he was asked to say it, he meant it. I think he was just trying to keep up the charade, but it was nice of him to try.”
The fact that he was so blunt last night, and that he would continue to press the issue today made me questions Mark’ true motive, but I brushed it aside for now.
“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Please just know it was well-intentioned.”
“I know that now, Love. It’s OK.”
It was the first time she called me ‘Love’ in quite some time, and when she stepped in close to hug me and nuzzle her face in my shoulder, I was convinced that she meant it. …..
That night Nicole slept comfortably while I lay awake. The image of Mark fucking my wife’s tits had crept into my imagination and was not going away. And there was something about the way Nicole had forgiven me so quickly this afternoon, as if she was compensating for something. The notion that she might be having an affair kept me up all night. It would also explain why she never wanted or needed to have sex with me anymore.
I resigned myself to investigate.
The following morning, I kissed Nicole good bye and jumped in my car. But instead of driving to work, I circled the block and parked down the street. As I sat there over the next three hours, keenly eyeing the front door of my house, my mind raced through multiple scenarios.
What if I caught her, with Mark or with someone else? What would I do? What if nothing happened? How long would I wait? I went through every angle of attack if I caught them together.
Would I start by throwing a punch, ask questions later? No, that would be stupid. I played out every possible strategy in my head, and no matter how I might fight Mark, it would not end well for me. Winding up beaten, on the floor in front of my cheating, half-naked wife would be the ultimate humiliation, and would certainly ruin any possibility of maintaining our marriage.
Would I hold both of them accountable, or just one or the other? I thought about who would be more at fault. Mark, for proposing it or Nicole for giving in?
I realized that I was getting way too far ahead of myself, and that I would let whatever happened dictate my response.
Soon, my fears were justified. I watched Nicole stick her head out of our front door and look both ways, before prancing across the street towards Mark and Heather’s house. I knew that Heather was at work, and that Mark, a freelance writer, was almost always home. The chances of an affair mounted.
I quietly ran towards the house and peaked through the window, being careful to remain hidden. In the inner hallway, Mark was pinning my wife against the wall and kissing her hard. She had her hands planted flat against the wall behind her, almost in an unwilling fashion, but her mouth visibly returned his kisses.
He broke off their kiss and grabbed her hand, pulling her down the hall. I only now noticed that she was wearing the black dress that I asked her to wear two nights before. I was fuming, but wanted to see where this was going. Nicole still displayed a subtle air of unwillingness.
I moved around the side of the house so I could peak in the bedroom window. As I arrived, Mark pushed Nicole backwards into the room and right onto the bed. She lifted he legs onto the mattress and pulled her knees up, spreading them apart. Mark knelt down in front of her and drove his tongue right into her pussy. ‘She’s not wearing panties,’ I thought to myself in astonishment. So much for the air of unwillingness.
Nicole never let me eat her out. She always claimed she was self-conscious or embarrassed. I thought it was because she hated giving head and was nervous that if I gave her oral, I would expect her to return the favor. Either way, as I watched her fingers interlace with his hair, my anxiety, my fury, escalated.
Part of me wanted to rap on the window and let them know they’d been had. Another part considered ringing the doorbell. But I froze. I froze not because I was scared, but because I noticed the look on Nicole’s face. It was pure ecstasy. It was the look I had been trying to give her for the last three years.
As Mark brought her to orgasm with his tongue, she bucked her hips up and ground against his face. Whether this had started yesterday or years ago, Nicole clearly had found a source for sexual bliss. Isn’t that what I wanted for her? Was I so altruistic that my anger subsided when I realized how happy Nicole was?
Then, something truly strange occurred. I noticed that my cock was stirring, growing quickly as it rubbed against my boxers. Was I turned on by this?
As Nicole came down from her high, Mark pulled her off the bed and onto her knees next. He dropped his trousers to reveal a raging erection, flopping in front of her face. Nicole obediently opened her mouth and he guided it inside her.
‘What the fuck?’ I said out loud as she wrapped her tongue around his pork and swallowed. She only did this to me before we were married, as if she was trying to win me over. Since our kids were born, it was vanilla sex and hand jobs. Now, here she was letting our neighbor, 12 years older, fuck her face.
Shamefully, I started rubbing my dick through my slacks, giving in to the fact that this turned me on. While part of me was glad she was enjoying herself, another part of me wanted her to suffer. I wanted him to jam his cock down her throat and make her gag on it. I wanted him to…
“Excuse me? What the fuck do you think you are doing?” a sharp voice distracted my thought process. I turned to see Heather marching towards me.
“Oh, John. What is going on?” she asked after recognizing me, though still clearly confused as to why I was pinned against the side of her house near her bedroom window.
As means of explanation, I stepped back from the window and gestured towards it. She craned her head inside and gasped.
“Mark!” she shouted in a whisper, her hands covering her mouth in an almost reflexive manner. “How could he?”
She turned as if to make her way to the front door.
“Heather, wait!” I said. “Don’t do anything rash?”
“Rash?” she said. “Rash? Our spouses are in there fucking and you are stroking yourself in the backyard. What do you want me to do?”
“Look,” I tried to reason. “If we remain quiet for now, if they think we don’t know, then we have the power. We can use this against them.”
Heather calmed down a little. “I want revenge, Heather, but if we burst in there right now we show all our cards. I want Nicole to suffer for this, not live with the satisfaction that she had an affair and I could do nothing about it.”
Heather looked back into the room. “Any idea how long this has been going on?”
“I think it may have started yesterday, but it could be months. I am not sure.”
“There is no way this has been going on that long. He is going too easy on her.”
“That is taking it easy?” I asked as I watched him jackhammer into her mouth. Nicole’s hands were at his hips, trying to slow his speed, but he was having none of it. Heather and I watched as Mark took Nicole’s arms and guided them behind her back. He said something to her, and in response she grabbed her elbows. Mark grabbed her head and started fucking her mouth harder.
“See that closet back there? It is loaded with BDSM gear. He likes to play rough. He is one sick freak, let me tell you. There are days where I have to wear certain clothing to hide the marks.”
“Geez, Heather. I had no idea.”
“Well, don’t feel bad. I’m the same way. We both like to be dominant, so we trade roles routinely. The reason no one outside our marriage has ever seen our basement is because it is a bona fide dungeon.”
I looked at Heather, slumped beneath her bedroom window, sitting motionless like an extra bag of mulch, unneeded yet undisposed. A disorienting slurry of emotions was spinning through my mind. Anger, for sure, at my wife and Mark. Sorrow and pity for Heather. This infuriating arousal that I wished would relinquish its hold on me. It took a few seconds for Heather’s words to penetrate this swirling emotional barricade, but once it did, it triggered a risky but potentially all-encompassing solution to this scanrio.
A plan started to percolate in my mind. “Would you be willing to dominate my wife with Mark? That way you could both be in control?”
Heather seemed intrigued by the offer. “She is beautiful. It had popped into my mind before, but we have never invited others into our marriage.” She looked back into the bedroom, then corrected herself. “At least I haven’t invited anyone. Besides, what if she doesn’t go for it?”
“I say we don’t give her the option,” I said. “After they are done in there, I will go home to Nicole as if I know nothing. You tell Mark that you and I both witnessed it, but we are OK with it.”
The look on her face implied that she was considering it.
“Tomorrow, I will make like I am going to work, but will drive around the block and wait for her to come back here. When she does, Mark will take her to the dungeon, at your encouragement, and somehow bind her down there. Blindfold her and allow me in. I will watch quietly as you and Mark dominate her together.”
“Why are you so on board with this?” she asked.
“Because obviously Mark is doing something that I cannot to make her happy. Perhaps it is just the excitement. But if it gets her off, than I want it for her, and I want to witness her elation.”
We watched as Mark pulled out of my wife’s mouth and shot his load on her face, Nicole flinching as lace after lace decorated her visage. It was all Heather needed to see.
“OK,” she said. “I’m in.” We worked out the rest of our plan.
The following day worked just as I had hoped. At the same time of day, Nicole pranced across the street and knocked on Mark’ door. Five minutes after she went inside, I strode to the door and gently tapped three times.
Heather answered, and my eyes nearly popped out of my head. She was wearing a tight leather outfit, clearly establishing herself as a dominatrix. She pulled me inside, making sure not to be seen in the afternoon light.
“Your wife is downstairs, and has no idea that we are here. Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked.
“I am,” I said, referencing my raging hard-on. She chuckled.
“OK, you sick Fuck. Let’s do this.”
We tiptoed down stairs, and as we approached the bottom, an audible slap echoed through the stone room. My heart started racing. I was excited, but nervous that I may have put Nicole in a horrible situation. But as I made my way to the door, I recalled her cumming as Mark ate her out, and it steeled my nerves. She deserved this.
I turned inside the room to see Mark, sitting on a chair, with Nicole lying over his lap. She was blindfolded, and her hands were cuffed together above her head. Mark was pulling her hair with his left hand as he smacked her firm ass with his right.
“What do you say, slut?” he commanded.
“Thank you, sir. Please, can I have another?”
SMACK. His hand collided with her pink bottom again, sending a rippling through her thighs and down to her calves.
“AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!” she screamed, his spanking clearly causing an ample amount of pain.
As Nicole thanked him again, Heather quietly led me to one corner by the hand. As we approached the radiator, a pair of cuffs emerged from her hands and clasped around my right wrist. Before I could figure out what was going on, she had locked the other end to the radiator, holding me in place. She whispered to me:
“You will not interfere with our fun. You let Nicole know you are here, she will experience intense pain.” She stuffed a ball gag in my mouth and secured it around the back of my head, muting me.
I was immensely uncomfortable with this, but I could do nothing about it now. Heather left me in the corner to join the party. Nicole correctly sensed her presence.
“Mark, is there someone else here?” her voice quivered.
“As a matter of fact, there is,” he said calmly.
With that, he pulled her to her feet by her hair and pushed her against the wall furthest from me.
“Mark, stop! Who else is here?” she commanded, with little authority.
Mark forced her hands above her head and attached the chain between her cuffs to a sinister looking hook. It was at such a height that my wife needed to stand on her toes to maintain contact with the ground.
Heather approached her and placed a dog collar around her neck. It was attached to a chain leash, which she let fall to the floor.
“When Mark told me what was going on between you and him,” Heather began, startling Nicole, “I was only upset that I hadn’t been included. Apparently, we have some catching up to do.”
“Heather!” Nicole startled. “Mark! This is not what I want. I’m not a lesbian!”
“Ha! I’m not a lesbian either. You understand that, you worthless cunt?” Heather squeezed Nicole’s right nipple as she demeaned her. “I am just here to punish you for trying to work your tight little ass between me and my man!”
“Aaaaiiiieeeeee, Heather….please!” Nicole screeched. “I’m sorry, Heather. The whole thing was a big mistake!”
“You’re damn right it was,” said Heather. “And now it is time to pay.” With that, she hefted up Nicole’s right breast in her left hand and began wrapping the metal leash around the base of it. Nicole’s breath quickened and she started to whimper, identifying a ferocity in Heather that she had never known. Her feet and knees squirmed with every tug on the leash.
Heather wound the leash tightly, propping up the massive tit so that it returned to height of her college years, and then some. She wrapped the leash around her breast twice, and then raised the handle to the hook holding her arms to the wall, lifting Nicole’s right boob to just below her chin. Nicole hissed through her teeth as she struggled to accommodate the pain.
“Please, Heather! I’m sorry about what happened with Mark. It was a mistake,” my wife pleaded. I could hear genuine remorse in her voice, and her use of the singular forms, “it was a mistake,” confirmed what Heather had predicted yesterday: that this affair was a recent development.
Heather drifted to a cabinet full of equipment and returned with a mouth spreader. She moved in close to Nicole, her leather outfit brushing against Nicole’s bare, hypersensitive skin. She grabbed Nicole’s cheeks and pinched her mouth open, and started jamming the spreader into her mouth as she whispered into her ear.
“Listen to me, home wrecker. You think I give a shit if you are sorry? Do you know what is like get out of work early, think you are going to have a nice, relaxing afternoon with your husband, and then find him with his dick in your neighbor’s mouth?”
“Uuuughh,” my wife moaned as the spreader lodged behind her teeth.
“I picked the spreader instead of the gag because I want to hear you scream, bitch. Pleading will get you nowhere, but scream all you want.” She locked the spreader in place once Nicole’s mouth was gaped as much as it would go.
“Trust me,” Heather continued, “Mark has put me through the ringer down here, and we have never had one complaint from any of our neighbors.”
She grabbed the nipple on Nicole’s engorged right tit and twisted it hard. Nicole let out a piercing scream that vibrated in my ears, and I could see the tears slowly streak down her reddening cheeks. When she ran out of breath, her scream ended, and she took in a big gasp of air. Heather let her nipple go.
“Music to my ears,” she said. She returned to the cabinet for more toys, leaving Nicole a whimpering, blubbering mess pinned to the wall. As Heather shuffled through the drawers, Mark moved in on Nicole. His hand dipped between her legs and started stroking her pussy.
“Why are you wet, you little slut?” Nicole’s whimpering was on the verge of hysteria. If what Mark had said was true, then even through the pain and submission, Nicole was becoming aroused.
“Let me make something clear, honey. I served my time last night. My debt has been paid. Today, you serve both of us.” He slowly penetrated her with two fingers, allowing his other fingers and palm to slide up and down the folds of her pussy. To my great surprise, I saw Nicole’s hips buck sensuously towards his fingers, as if even through the uncertainty of her immediate future, she could still derive pleasure from our male neighbor.
For the first time, my cock tinged in excitement. The rocking of her hips reminded me of how she would thrust up towards me during our sexual heyday. My concerns for her safety assuaged, I allowed myself to start to get into it.
Having found what she was looking for, Heather strutted back to her prone slave. She draped what seemed to be a string or fishing wire over her left shoulder. It crossed over her left breast and continued to her mid-thigh. Nicole was experiencing a steady swarm of conflicting emotions: fear and trepidation, for sure, but also shame and apparently arousal. Her hips rocked off the wall towards Mark’ probing fingers as Heather brought the first of eight metal clips to her left tit.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh,” she shrieked as Heather clamped the clip onto the top of her left breast. From my vantage point, I could see that the string was trapped between my wife’s pure flesh and the vicious metal pincers. Vicious as they might be, though, it did appear that they were padded with rubber on the tips. Otherwise these clips might have drawn blood.
Nicole’s breaths came in short, labored gasps as Heather pinched more flesh together just beneath the previous clip. She could sense the ensuing pain before it happened, but it did not help her cope any better. Heather again locked the one of the clips along the top of her breast, securing the string within it.
My wife pleaded for mercy, though it was indecipherable with her spreader in place. It just came out as a series of long vowels sounds. Heather and Mark shared a chuckle, mocking her pain.
“Don’t worry, love,” Mark said to his wife. “She is still wet. She must be enjoying it.”
Though I could not specifically feel her wetness, the room was beginning to fill with that specific smell of sex, belying the fact that, even if she was not enjoying it, she was aroused. In shame at his comment, Nicole rocked her hips back against the wall and froze, refusing to thrust towards his fingers, as though her refusal demonstrated a lack of consent. Unfortunately for her, Heather did not care if she consented.
Her punishment would continue.
Nicole’s whimpering continued as Heather applied five more clips in a vertical line down her left breast. Bringing forth the final clip, she flicked Nicole’s throbbing nipple, and ensnared with the clip. Each of her breasts was now cruelly manipulated in different manners. Her right, ringed tightly at the base, bright red and bulbous, looked like it might rupture. The left, vertically bifurcated by the row of metal clips, still had the wire draped over it.
Heather now grabbed both ends of the wire and pulled them together in front of Nicole. I could see now the maniacal purpose of this wire. With every tiny tug, each of the clips pulled gently on Nicole’s already straining breast flesh. After she tested the string for durability, Heather asked Mark to remove the spreader in Nicole’s mouth.
“So, whore,” Heather said. “Tell me how many times you have been with my husband.” She held the wire taut in her hands, warning her that a sharp yank might follow a wrong answer.
“Just the once, Heather,” Nicole said. Her answer was quickly followed by a sharp scream as Heather pulled on the wire.
“First of all, slut, don’t you dare call me Heather today. Today, you call me ‘mistress,’ and nothing else. Second of all, that is your one and only chance to lie to me. Understand?”
“But Hea-…mistress. I’m not lying,” my wife cried.
“Slut, you were with him yesterday, I witnessed that. And you were with him today when I walked in. That is twice right there. How many more times?”
“Please, be gentle, mistress!” Nicole whined as Heather tugged on the wire again. “I thought you meant before today. I swear yesterday was the first time.”
I knew this was a lie, as I saw her yesterday, but caught her running out of his house the day before that. Unless that was just a manner of arranging what happened yesterday, though that was doubtful.
“OK, so just one time before today. What prompted it? Did you come on to him, or did he come on to you?”
“Mistress, it all began three nights ago, after dinner. John explained that he was trying to cheer me up by having you and Mark compliment me, but I wasn’t buying it. We had a big fight; he slept on the couch, and was gone by the time I got downstairs.”
Another light tug on the wire. “Get to the point, whore.”
“Aiiieeee, fuck! OK!” Nicole screamed as her breast throbbed. “I called his office the morning after to apologize to him. I knew that he was trying to make me feel better about my looks, but I always let my poor self-image get in the way. But when I called, they said he had called out sick, and I began to get suspicious.”
Heather turned her head towards me and raised an eyebrow. Was all of this a sick, Shakespearean plot that I set in motion by stalking my wife?
“So let me guess,” Heather went on. “So you came over here, looking for me, and you found Mark, who gave you a shoulder to cry on. “
A tear streaked down Nicole’s face. “Pretty much.”
“And, was John having an affair?”
“I don’t know, I never confronted him. But it does not seem like he was.”
“So you are going to endure this punishment today because you did not trust your husband?”
“It was an honest mistake, Heather,” Nicole tried to rationalize. Heather yanked the string harder. “God damn it! Mistress! I swear I never intended for this to happen. Please just let me go.”
Heather balled all the slack in the wire up in her fist, leaned forward, and then pulled as hard as she could. The clips snapped off of my wife’s left breast and flew all over the room.
“Aaaaahhhhhh!!!!!” Nicole screamed as her tit experienced first the pain of metal and rubber dragging against flesh, then the sting of their release. Now, as her scream diminished to short, quick gasps, the slow burn of blood rushing back to her pinched flesh drove her wild.
Heather unwrapped the chain around her right breast, and then Mark lifted her hands off the hook in the wall. Nicole collapsed to the ground, her back still pressed against the wall, and she cupped both of her breasts in her hand. I could see the searing pink flesh protrude from between her spread fingers as she massaged them gently.
The sound of her sobbing, full of fear, caused me to lose my erection. I had Heather’s assurance that she or Mark would make my wife cum today, but I did not know if I could bear to watch the torture that would preclude it.
Heather quietly gestured towards Mark that she wanted Nicole in the middle of the floor, so he grabbed her left ankle and slid her along her back into the center of the room. Heather brought an ankle spreader out of the closet and handed one end to Mark.
“Please, Mark!” my wife cried. “Let me go. I won’t say anything to John or anyone-”. A sharp slap from Heather across her face shut her up.
“First of all, slave, I warned you not to use our names down here. In this room, we are master and mistress. Secondly, we are not worried about you telling anyone about this. What could you possibly say that wouldn’t give your affair away?”
Nicole huffed, resigning herself to the situation as Heather and Mark pulled her legs apart and attached them to the spreader. She sat on the floor spread eagle, her hands flat on the floor behind her back, her heaving, glowing orbs hanging from her chest.
“Can I at least take off my blindfold, please?” she asked.
My heart started racing at the question, and for the first time my true vulnerability became clear. What would happen if Nicole took off her blindfold and found me, cuffed to the radiator, my erection trying to fight through my shorts?
“Sweetheart, I promise if you take that blindfold off your day will get exponentially worse.” Heather eased my fears with this stern warning, at least for now.
Mark stepped out of his jeans and boxers, taking his raging erection in his fist and approaching my wife. He placed a foot on either side of her thighs, so his legs were flush against her still-stinging breasts. Only as the hair on his legs brushed against her nipples did she recognize his proximity.
“Open your mouth, slave,” he commanded. Nicole obeyed. “Good, now stick that tongue out.”
Again, my wife obliged his request, extending her tongue out of her mouth and down towards her chin. Mark pulled her head so that her back was perpendicular to the ground, and her hands came up to his thighs, grappling for stability.
Mark towered over her, and further imposed his reign over her by standing on his toes, so that his dick was more facing down at her mouth then approaching it from in front of her face. He pulled her hair down so that her face turned up to him, her mouth and tongue still in their commanded positions. With a sneer, Mark pushed his cock into her mouth and straight into her throat.
“Mmmmppphhhhh….cack, cack, cack,” my wife gagged on his member. But Mark pushed forward, lodging himself inside her and sinking back down onto the heels of his feet. He grabbed the back of her head with both hands, holding her between his legs as her hands frantically grabbed at his thighs and ass, trying to move him back. But he was a tree trunk, immovable and stoic, owning her face. I could see that her neck was turning red as it strained around his cock. It appeared that the outline of his enormous cock head could actually be seen at the top of her throat.
Heather rejoined the action by plugging something into a nearby outlet and turning it on. I recognized it from some porn I had seen online, but was unsure if Nicole knew what it was.
“Are you familiar with the Hitachi Magic Wand, slave?”
Nicole could only grunt an indiscernible response.
“Well, just in case, this is the best vibrator I own. I promised Mark that I would make you cum at least once today, so that you get to enjoy this at least a little bit. But if you are going to cum, it is going to be on my terms, with your legs forced apart and my husband’s dick stuck in your throat.”
Heather, of course, had made that promise to me, not Mark. I was grateful that, at the minimum, I would be able to witness my wife orgasm.
She touched the vibrator to Nicole’s spread and easily accessible pussy, sliding up and down between her clit and her gushing hole.
“MMMMMMMMM,” Nicole groaned, half in pleasure and half in clear pain. She let go of Mark’ legs and set her hands behind her back again. This enabled her to gently rock her hips off the ground and towards the invading vibrator.
“John must love having a whore like you in his bed every night,” Heather mocked. “Look at how you lust for this plastic toy despite getting your throat reamed out by a superior man. What filthy things do you do for him?”
She teased Nicole by pulling the Magic Wand slightly out of range of her throbbing clit, and watched as Nicole attempted to nudge her hips forward in search of it. Mark pulled out of her throat with a pop.
“Answer her,” he said.
Nicole’s swollen red orbs heaved up and down as she tried to catch her breath. “What was the question?” she managed, already not remembering the seemingly rhetorical question Heather had posed.
Mark grabbed her right nipple and twisted it. “My wife would like to know what fucked up sexual acts you commit with your husband.”
Nicole screamed and brought her right hand from behind her back to try to wrest her tit free. Her efforts were in vain. “Please!” she begged, “We do not do anything crazy. Just plain, vanilla, missionary.”
“How often, slave?” Heather asked. I was embarrassed at the answer, even before Nicole offered it. The truth was, despite how cruel and debasing this sexual deviancy appeared to be, I was at least somewhat envious that they were trying new things, experimenting…trusting each other. For them to know that we only had boring missionary….
Note: This is my first time, so please… be gentle. Just kidding. I encourage any criticism and hopefully a little positive feedback. As for the smuttiness factor, I am cranking it up to an 11 in the second and third chapter, so stay tuned.
It was a typical evening for Laelia. After assisting the other slaves with clearing the meal, she was tending to her charge, Master Lucius. He was the old master of the house. In recent years he had become quite infirm, and that was why she was mixing a tincture at the moment.
He was flirting with her, as was his custom. She found it oddly amusing that a man of his age could still be a flirt. Laelia was so used to it, in fact, that she would banter right back with him, while allowing her mind to wander.
“…So I take it you have heard my son will be visiting me shortly, from Rome?”
Her reverie was shattered. “No, Master, I have not heard this. Is Master Julian coming just to visit you, or will he be here to attend to the villa’s business?”
“As you know, my son is not the sentimental type, and it is very difficult for him to leave the Senate. I imagine he is here to make sure the estate is in order before my death.”
“Oh no, Master, I am sure that he misses you and wishes for a break from Rome.” He merely smiled at her; the girl was being kind by speaking these words.
Laelia was shocked by his calm manner, while speaking about his eventual death. She was sure, however, that Master Lucius was correct. Based on her medical knowledge, passed onto her from her adoptive father, she knew this.
The last time Master Julian had visited, she had been eighteen years old, and now she was twenty. She recalled her age because it had been on her birthday that she had nervously dropped a clean plate. Master Julian must have been furious; she received a lashing in the courtyard and had not been able to hide her tears. She was grateful that no permanent marks had been left on her pale Gallic flesh.
However, she had not dropped a plate since then! Laelia furrowed her brow. She hoped she could keep her wits about her this time around.
“Whatever his motivation is, my dear, he will be here within a fortnight. The other slaves have been told after their meal, and they will be preparing for his arrival shortly. However, we have a lot of time before his arrival. Right now, I am far more interested in your games of dice.” He grinned at her, his toothless enthusiasm showing.
Laelia went on to defeat him once, and lose as convincingly as possible two times after. After he had gone to bed, she quietly went to her shared cubicula. Her roommates were already asleep, afforded earlier hours than she.
She didn’t know why she was so flustered. Her hands shook slightly as she unpinned the braid coiled at the top of her head. A long wavy curtain of dark red was quickly re-braided, and left to hang straight. Laelia removed her outer long tunic, leaving her inner tunic, both of plain grey heathered wool. She removed her homemade lip tint with a bit of oil. I should not be affected by Master Julian returning. Of course he wishes to put his affairs in order. I will most likely not be sold after Master Lucius passes.
But from the look in Master Julian’s eyes from his last visit, she was sorely afraid. No matter what her analytical mind told her; He seemed to always be looking at her, judging her worth. She was terrified constantly that she was performing her tasks incorrectly. She watched everything she said to Master Lucius and the other slaves around Master Julian.
What if I am sold? I do not mind my work here, but anywhere else… I could end up serving an unkind familia. I could end up dressing a very cruel woman’s hair. As she thought of all the possibilities, she could not allow herself to think of the worst one; being sold to a disgusting man or woman who would use her body for sex, or even being sold to a brothel. She knew a nearby slave had refused a new Mistresses sexual advance. The young man was sold as a male prostitute, had contracted a horrible disease and died. Laelia knew that the possibilities were slim that she would ever deal with such a terrible situation. Nevertheless, the thought of change unnerved her.
She woke up in the middle of the night, and felt a slight unfurling, deep with her stomach. How strange. I have never felt anything like this. The feeling seemed to stem from her heart, and go straight down to her female organs. Her adoptive mother had passed away a few years prior. Perhaps she could have enlightened me. Laelia resisted the urge to “soothe” her inflamed female organs, afraid that one of the other three women in her cubicula would awaken. Before she knew it, she was drifting off to sleep again.
The day had finally come. Laelia’s panic from the first day had seemingly infected the entire country villa. Tables that Master Lucius had been too infirm to see where furiously scrubbed, drapes were taken down and beaten. At last, Master’s Julian’s body slave threw back the door, and they all stood in a line to greet him.
She had not been sure if her normal tunic would be appropriate. Most girls her age were “married” as slaves and wore long gowns, not long tunics. Laelia had begged one of the other girls to lend her something suitable, not sure why it suddenly mattered to her. And now she felt uncomfortable, the tighter and longer garment showing her figure off in a way she was not used to.
It had not been her imagination. His stormy grey eyes settled on her. Ye gods- I must be a terrible slave. I hate to be noticed- to be singled out. She tried to straighten her body even more, but found it impossible. Laelia wished that her body would become liquid; she could sink right into the hard floors. Luckily, he ignored the slaves. They collectively breathed a sigh of relief when he shut the villa’s office’s door. “Thank the gods!” muttered a guileless young boy, and brought a smile to her lips. “Oh Aidin- what would you know of the Gods?” she breathed, drawing laughter from the rest of the congregation. They went off to work.
Julian muttered to his male body slave, Eryx, “Have my father’s nurse- the redhead- bring me some wine, in here. Don’t tell her until she has put my father to bed. I will need to see where I will transfer her after my father passes.” Eryx nodded, needing no further explanation. When they had both entered the room, the pale Gaul stood out, in a sea of darker slaves.
Despite the attention foisted upon her earlier, Laelia was in good spirits while she cared for and entertained Master Lucius. That strange feeling had come again, and even though it was odd to walk around with it inside of her stomach and chest, she had no issues performing her tasks. Master Lucius won three times at dice, and she won two, before he finally retired. She was worn out from the labor of the day, and tried to walk down the darkened hallway to go to sleep before she was caught by the wrist. She recognized the well-dressed slave who had followed Master Julian before.
“Master Julian needs you to bring him some wine. ” He hoped that she would read between the lines, and not ask him any silly questions. In this light, the girl looked even younger than she had before. Eryx had no doubts of his Master’s intentions, though he found it odd. His Master never bothered the slave girls, he mostly used whores.
Oh dear gods, he is going to tell me I am to be sold. Laelia felt her legs buckle beneath her, and her heart seemed to be trying to escape from her chest cavity. “I will go straight there. Sorry for his wait, Master Lucius could not fall asleep tonight.” Grabbing a pitcher from the kitchen, she decided to fix her hair as best she could in a shard of mirrored glass she had found long ago. It would not do to look untidy, even if she was about to receive the worst news of her life. Laelia found her hands were shaking again, almost too much to work. So she ended up merely tucking the loose strands back into her braid, and putting on a new coat of balm. “This will have to do,” she murmured.
Almost silently, she entered his office. Her chest felt too tight. She stood and tried not to tremble visibly.
“Ah, you are finally here. Good to see that my father is still as demanding, even in his poor health.” He looked down at her chest, where she clutched the pitcher. Her breasts and her hands were trembling slightly. “Good to see that you can now hold a breakable item for more than a moment, as well. You may find it hard to believe that I did not call you in here to test you on that, or for wine, for that matter.”
Laelia had her eyes cast downward out of deference and fear, and she did not see his lingering eye on her breasts. She was bracing herself for the terrible news, when she heard a key in the lock behind her. Why would he lock the door….unless he thinks I will try to get out? Is the news that terrible? Am I going to be beaten again for something I have done wrong? Her eyes shot up when she felt his breath on her neck. He did not touch her, but he whispered in her tiny ear;
“Why are you so fearful, girl? Every time I look at you, you start to shake.”
The feeling in her stomach was rising; the fluttering went from her cunni to her throat. She swallowed hard and whispered, stuttering…. “Master, I am not afraid. I’m sorry- I must simply be tired.”
“Was it that beating I gave you?” He was moving around to her front now, and as he walked, he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I must say, it made quite the impression on me as well.” He gently stroked a single finger down the side of her alabaster neck. She had to force herself to breathe again. He sat back down and looked at her, expecting a clear answer.
“Master- I do understand that you had to discipline me. I dropped the dish, and you cannot allow clumsy behavior to go unpunished.” She looked into his stormy grey eyes, and then shyly looked down at the ground again. Her cheeks were turning red as her hair. “After all, if every slave dropped a plate, you would soon have no dishes at all.” She bravely peeped through her long lashes at him, and immediately regretted her loss of composure. He was glaring at her as if she was doing something awful.
He thought about how lovely it had been. He had insisted on doing the beating himself, inside, for the poor thing’s “modesty.” His body slave hadn’t thought anything of it; the girl would have been surrounded by interested observers has she been outside. But nevertheless, he had told his body slave to keep it as a secret, or suffer the same as her. No need for his increasingly pregnant wife to hear about this. Of course, at the time he had not known that she would die in the birth.
Julian led her into an empty stable, to an unused beam. Facing away from him, and with as much modesty as possible in the current situation, Laelia removed her outer tunic. She did not want to ruin one of her few dresses. The inner tunic frustrated him, concealing more than he would have liked. He could see an outline of where her legs stopped. While he was distracted, she had held out her pretty white wrists to him, reaching behind her.
“Please, Master, I’ll be so careful not to do it in the future… please. I beg you to show some mercy.”
His cock twitched at her pleading, while he focused on the outline of her slender legs in the garment. He tied up her wrists to the beam. Julian thought of pushing her onto her knees and fucking her pretty mouth… a nice supplication. But he knew it would lead to her being used against the barn wall. Julian did not want to debase himself with a slave, when he had an equally pretty, if slightly shrill, young wife, back at home. It would be an unspoken disappointment in his wife’s eyes, if word broke out that he was fucking the slaves. No need to deal with her jealousy when he got home.
“Don’t question my judgment, slave.” Julian licked suddenly dry lips. “And I wouldn’t want the others to hear your pleading…” Or crying, or anything else, for that matter. A piece of cloth in hand, he tied it round her charming mouth as a gag. Stepping back, he contemplated the task at hand. Julian had only done this a few times before, and every time, the slave had been male and much larger than her. Of course, he hadn’t had to worry about anything between his legs rising then.
He selected the smallest whip from the wall, not necessarily a boon to her, as the lick of it was almost as sharp as one of his larger ones. He hesitated for a moment. Then, committing fully, he started to lay into her ass with as light of a hand as he could muster. Only fifteen… keep it to fifteen… that’s what you told her when she broke the plate. She screamed muffled into the gag as each stroke landed. It excited him more than he cared to admit. His last stroke was somewhat less… controlled, cutting through the fabric of her woolen undergarment fully. Her alabaster skin now had a few welts, and all other marks were scratches. Oh, that skin.
“Stay here.” As if she could do anything else, he smiled to himself. He adjusted his cock so that he could discreetly enter the house. He brought back a tube of salve and a wet rag. “This may hurt a bit.” He pushed up her skirt, over her ass. While he had fully expected a scream, she did not make a sound. Julian found himself mesmerized by the slave’s perfectly smooth ass. Well, perfectly smooth but for his welts.
If you tore the rest of her dress off, no one would know, or care. You could put some of the salve on and stuff her tight asshole with your prick… And it would feel so good, holding her white shoulders back, those bound arms helpless. Rocking her back and forth slowly on your lap, feeling your cock sliding in and out of that hot, taut hole. Using her pretty little body until you come, and then leaving her on the stable floor, dripping with your fluids.
He found himself hardening again, oddly enough.
She did whimper a bit when he stroked the rag across her fresh welts, and then started to rub the salve in. “I couldn’t have you get an infection, as I am sure you know more than I. This villa is shorthanded as it is.” He smiled, but she either didn’t understand or didn’t acknowledge. Typical stupid slave. He could still feel his cock pulsating, and her perfect ass was bare, her face turned away as she faced the wall. Not one to miss a chance, he removed her gag and dipped it in the salve. “I have to let you sit here for a moment. It will let the cream absorb better into your skin, rather than rub off on your… garment.” He started to gently stroke his thick shaft with the gag. Thinking about using her for the last half hour, hardening constantly, had been too much to bear. He came all over the cloth within a few minutes. Trying to breathe normally… He led her back into the house.
He told her never to do it again.
And now he found himself, much the same way. Struggling to breathe normally, but outwardly, physically he knew he appeared perfectly normal. Luckily, his senate experience had taught him to bluff his true thoughts. He had asked her a question about his father’s health and medicine, just to keep her standing there during his daze.
“Well, sir. He is very lively but as you know, liver illness does not improve; it simply can be discouraged from getting better. I can see in his skin, it still has the yellow tinge. But we have removed all the wine from his diet- while he never drank more than a typical amount, my father always told me that is beneficial for those with this condition of the weak liver. But due to his age and the length of time he has had the disease… I fear for the worst soon.” She noticed him nodding with concern; however, she hadn’t given him any new information. They were simply trying to keep him alive at this point.
“As you know girl, he really doesn’t have much longer. I brought you in here to mention your future to you. I don’t plan on selling you. And you are far too talented to work in the fields. You will be working in my villa in Rome, as a scribe and an occasion physician for my slaves and I.”
She saw him still glancing at her, from the corner of her downcast eyes, so she swallowed hard.
He really was enjoying the long dress on her. It made her look like a just married girl. He could also see a lot more of her breasts than before. He felt his control start to slip, looking at her. Julian needed to keep himself in check. As tantalizing as the thought of pushing her against the wall and forcing himself inside was, he didn’t want to harm her. And he was in a dark place tonight.
“You can go. Please put the torches in the hall out, when you do.”
She nodded and turned away, only to hear his voice again.
“One more thing, slave. You should wear that style of dress more often, it suits you.”
Laelia turned around in surprise, making eye contact despite herself. Was it her imagination, or had he flicked his eyes up and down her body when she looked at him again?
Previous stories in this series: Off-Road Goddess, Paddled in the Boondocks, Lunch With A Dominatrix
It was late on a Saturday afternoon that I drove to the east side of the city, following directions that had been given to me by Miss Julia. Near the industrial park where she worked, I turned onto a state highway and continued east just until signs of civilization began to fade. Making several turns down side roads and back roads, I found the large farm that was my destination.
Sprawling green pastures with grazing horses were bordered by white plank fences. There was a complex of barns and sheds visible on the property, and I turned in the open gate, following the wide gravel driveway towards a large house.
Miss Julia and I had been dating for just over a month and up until today she never told me where she lived. She had always picked me up at my apartment or we had met at an agreed upon location. For whatever reason she had preferred to keep her address a secret and I respected her decision. This evening though, she had invited me over to her house for dinner.
I knew that the small mansion at the end of the driveway was not my destination. Miss Julia said that she lived in a small cottage on the property. Before reaching the main house I turned onto a narrow lane which circled around by the stables and past a maintenance shop. Off by itself in a nice private setting by the edge of some woods was Miss Julia’s cottage.
It may have been the original farm house. Tiny, with ornate trim and tall gothic windows. Paint peeled in large flakes, the front porch sagged, and the ridgeline of the roof had a noticeable swayback. On an otherwise well maintained farm, it seemed odd that this little cottage would have been allowed to deteriorate into a shack. Had Miss Julia’s yellow Jeep Wrangler not been parked out in front, I wouldn’t have thought anyone lived here.
The planks of the porch floor felt surprisingly solid underfoot. I knocked on the screen door. The front door beyond it was open to a sparsely furnished living room with a fireplace along the back wall. After knocking a second time and getting no answer I assumed that she wasn’t home. Perhaps she was feeding horses for the evening over at one of the stables.
We had only had some steamy makeout sessions up to this point. Any time I tried to make further advances she stopped me, saying that she liked to take things slow. There had been no more domination role play, though I almost always addressed her as Miss Julia because that seemed to thrill her. Since I had been invited to her house this could be a special occasion. Thinking she might be waiting for me in her bedroom, I checked the screen door. Finding it unlocked, I went inside to see if she was home.
A pair of steel gray high heeled pumps was just inside the door, one upright and the other lay over on its side as if she had taken them off after coming home from work and left them there. An entertainment center of sorts was improvised out of planks and cinderblocks, as a roommate of mine had done when I was in college. It took less than a minute to look through the small one bedroom cottage, and Miss Julia was not home.
Before going back out onto the porch to wait for her, I couldn’t help bending over and picking up one of her shoes. The spike heel looked like it was a little over four inches tall and the throat had a deep vee shape that would likely show off a bit of toe cleavage. The sole and tip of the heel had some heavy wear. Older shoes, or maybe favorites.
I held it up to my face, pressed my nose inside and inhaled deeply. There was only a faint hint of her scent. It would have been better to sniff them yesterday when they came off her feet after a day at the office. Placing the shoe back on the floor, I made sure it was back in the location I remembered.
No chairs were on the porch so I sat down at the top of the steps. I had to admit that her home was not as I had expected. My beautiful goddess lived in a shack and was a slob of a housekeeper.
While I waited for Miss Julia I thought about our last date. We had been out to some nice restaurants before, all of her choice, but on the last date when she arrived at my apartment she was dressed casually, wearing some tight jeans, cowgirl boots with tall heels, and a plaid shirt. I had been dressed as if going to work at the office and she insisted I change into some jeans, my hiking boots, and an old t-shirt.
As always, she drove. I told her that if she was taking me to a country bar to do some line dancing, I had no experience at all, but was willing to learn. She just laughed and put on a Dierks Bentley CD.
We drove east of town and out to the country, where I lost track of all the turns and streets, most of which were simply county roads with numbers instead of names. At the end of a narrow gravel road was a huge barn. Pickup trucks and older cars were parked everywhere. The large sliding doors on the barn were open and light and music spilled out into the night. Twangy electric guitar and a fiddle, somehow amplified, that spiraled out a series of notes faster than I could think.
There was a cover charge of only a few dollars and the draft beer was free. Serve yourself from one of many kegs that were sitting in metal trough full of ice. A large dance floor of polished wood planks lightly sprinkled with sawdust had been set up in front of the improvised stage. Christmas tree lights had been strung high in the rafters above and shone down like multicolored stars. While there were mix and match tables and chairs off around the sides of the vast open space, almost everyone was on the dance floor.
I don’t consider myself to be much of a dancer, and I’m not even a real country music fan, but that night was the most fun I’d had on a date in a long time. Learning dance steps on the fly, our clothing damp with perspiration when we held each other tight during the slow numbers. We only left the dance floor a few times for some cold beer, and I don’t think the band even took any breaks. They only paused occasionally for another person to get on stage and pick up a guitar or sit down behind the drum kit. The fiddle player was a frail looking old man but he played effortlessly all night long.
The crowd was a curious mix. Some tough looking rednecks like you might expect, but a lot of old people too, and even some little kids. A few people were very well dressed, but most looked like they just got off work from the farm or some blue collar job and went to the dance.
Miss Julia’s friend Sue and her boyfriend Dave were there, but we didn’t hang out with them much. There was also an old couple I remembered. They owned the property where the trailer was where Miss Julia had severely paddled me some time ago. She told me that night that they had been foster parents of hers when she was younger and she stayed in touch with them, occasionally fishing in their pond or using the trailer as a weekend retreat.
While people at the dance seemed friendly enough, to my surprise Miss Julia was a bit of a snob towards most of them. Near the end of the evening I had this feeling like I was a trophy wife that a former geek had brought to his high school class reunion just to show off. I was brought back to present time as I heard the low growl of a diesel engine approaching. Miss Julia came into view driving a large yellow end loader, fitted with a backhoe.
The tires of the machine were coated with fresh mud and the front mounted scoop contained some heavy chain, lengths of dirty rusty pipe, and some tools I didn’t recognize. Her thick dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She wore tan coveralls and floppy rubber work boots, and both were heavily smeared with mud. To see her dressed like that and driving the end loader, I found to be incredibly sexy. Miss Julia pulled a few hydraulic levers, lowering the backhoe and front bucket to the ground, throttled down the engine, then shut it off.
“Sorry I’m late,” she called out to me as she climbed down from the driver’s seat. “I had to take care of a technical difficulty.” I assured her that it was no problem.
Miss Julia gave me a cautious embrace so as not to get me dirty, and a deep kiss with her hot tongue. She momentarily sat on the front steps to pull off her muddy boots and then tossed them to one side of the porch. I hadn’t been ordered to worship her boots or shoes in a while, and I was glad that I wasn’t going to have to lick that pair clean.
“You told me that you could cook,” Miss Julia said in a challenging tone as we walked in the front door. “I have some pork chops in the fridge. Go cook them up for us along with whatever else you can think of while I get cleaned up. Don’t disappoint me.” There was no time for me to ask any questions as she quickly slipped behind her bedroom door and closed it.
It was true that I’ve always considered myself to be a good cook, though as a bachelor I didn’t make many elaborate meals at home unless I had a woman over. Having someone over for dinner was always convenient as you didn’t have to awkwardly ask them back to your place afterwards. Miss Julia may have similar thoughts. Perhaps later on we would light a few logs in the fireplace and then find other ways to heat things up.
The kitchen was primitive. A small addition off the back of the house, one step down from the living room, with a low sloping ceiling. I found the pork chops in the refrigerator as promised. Dirty dishes were heaped on the drainboard of the old porcelain sink across the back wall of the room. After a quick search of the few cabinets I realized that I’d have to wash some dishes first, just for the sake of having some clean utensils to work with. The pipes were already screaming with running water as Miss Julia was evidently in the shower.
I imagined her in the prefab shower stall that was jammed into the tiny bathroom adjacent to her bedroom. Steam would be rising off her wet naked body, her breasts rolling gently under the hot water as she massaged thick suds of shampoo through her raven hair. Assuming that the water pressure was bad, I cracked the tap open just enough to wash a few items without disturbing her.
I found a partial bag of mixed vegetables in the glacier lined freezer. She also had some spaghetti and enough spices and condiments that I thought I could whip up a sauce to make that into a tasty side dish.
The gas stove was an antique but the burners fired right up. While the pork chops I had dipped in flour were starting to sizzle in a heavy cast iron skillet, I checked the refrigerator again. Near the back and possibly being saved for a special occasion was a bottle of chardonnay. I had no idea if that was a proper wine to serve with pork, but I set it in the center of the table along with two glasses. That was when I took a closer look at the bottle and realized that the label had been run off on a computer printer. There was a family name, something complicated and possibly of German origin, and the name of a small town just east of here. It was then that I remembered that Miss Julia had a source for getting some homemade wine. It would be interesting to try.
As I was finishing up in the kitchen, the bedroom door opened and Miss Julia came out. I had to catch my breath when I saw her dressed in a blue satin bustier top with black lace trim. It shaped her figure wonderfully, leaving the tops of her breasts fully exposed, the nipples barely covered by a border of black lace. She wore a black mini skirt that I could only assume barely covered her ass. Her shapely legs were sheathed in black nylon stockings, the tops of which were just visible below the hem of her skirt. Unexpected though were the boots that she wore.
On one of our previous dates, Miss Julia had worn some black leather knee high boots with some sexy heels. They would have been a better look with her outfit than the black rubber riding boots she was wearing now. Boots that I had been ordered to worship several times in the past, and perhaps would be licking later on as my desert. Her dark wavy hair was still slightly damp, and there were light traces of makeup on her face. Her smile was provocative, seductive, and challenging all at the same time.
“You can put your eyes back in your head, Eric.” she told me.
“Sorry, Miss Julia,” I said.
The title seemed appropriate now since she was wearing her black rubber boots. For all I knew she might order me to put my plate of food down on the floor, where she would stomp in it and have me lick my supper from her boots.
“That’s okay,” she replied. “I’ll take it as a compliment.
She sat down at the table and seemed to have no objection that I had place settings for two. Miss Julia nodded in approval towards the bottle of wine, so I quickly retrieved a corkscrew from a drawer where I had seen it earlier, and poured us each a glass.
“This looks interesting,” Miss Julia said as she served herself a small portion of the spaghetti in the light creamy sauce. “What’s in it?” she asked.
“It’s just something I through together on the spot,” I said. “It’s pretty good. Try it,” and I took a bite because I knew the sauce had turned out better than expected. A little flour, milk, water, parmesan cheese, and a selection of spices.
“Not bad,” she agreed. “If I ask for the recipe later and you don’t give it to me, I’ll beat it out of you,” she said with a provocative smile.
“In that case, I refuse to tell,” I replied.
Though I was certainly up for a domination session, I was hoping that our relationship might progress in a different direction later this evening. Maybe pull the ratty blinds closed, and finish off the rest of the strong wine while getting cozy on the futon.
Eventually I’d work a hand up her nylon clad thighs, above the top of her stockings and under that short skirt. She was probably wearing some skimpy lacy panties, and they would be moist with her arousal. Then I’d kneel between her legs, push up her skirt, move the damp panties to one side with a thumb and part her moist pussy lips with my tongue. I envisioned her hooking one of her legs behind my head as I pleasured her and I doubted she would bother to take her boots off.
“Do you like my cottage?” she asked, suddenly bringing me back to reality.
“It has a certain utilitarian flair,” I said, trying to be polite. “Since you drove up on that end loader I guess you work here part time, so living here is probably cheap. Maybe you board a horse here for next to nothing, so it’s probably a good arrangement.”
Miss Julia explained that the farm’s owners had been foster parents of hers at one time. She had lived in the big house back then but had always liked this little cottage, where a young couple had lived and worked on the farm part time.
“It always reminded me of a doll house with that Victorian trim around the front porch. I knew it was rundown,” she said. “But I still thought it was cute and would be a nice place to live.”
Miss Julia then told me she had been living here for a few years now, rent free, in exchange for feeding and watering horses on weekday mornings, and helping out with some of the larger projects as needed. She was currently paying off student loans and saving her money for a down payment on a townhouse condo a bit closer to work, and thought she would be here only another year at the most.
“I’m not going to ask you why you were in foster care,” I said. “But whatever negative stuff happened, you seem to have been pretty resourceful. That is, networking in a sense with old foster parents for a place to live, a place where you can get away and fish, and who knows what else.”
She just nodded and changed the subject, asking me about my work, and that’s pretty much how the rest of the meal went, like any other dinner date. When we finished I offered to pour her another glass of wine and light a fire in the fireplace.
“I think you should wash that big stack of dishes,” she countered. “Then join me in the bedroom for desert.” There was only a brief flash of a grin before she stood up and turned for the bedroom door, her walk a provocative strut.
The sound of her rubber soled boots with their flat heels as she walked across the old hardwood floor was mesmerizing when combined with her hips swiveling under the mini skirt that barely covered her ass. Needless to say I attacked the pile of dirty dishes with speed and enthusiasm.
When I entered Miss Julia’s bedroom, she was waiting for me just inside the door, still fully dressed and holding a fierce looking riding crop. I hadn’t been sure if pleasure or pain had been on her agenda until now. I’ll admit I was a bit disappointed, and scared as well.
The riding crop she brandished wasn’t some bedroom toy that you might find next to a set of furry handcuffs at an adult video store. Her crop had a robust handle and a thick loop of leather on the tip. It was a serious tool that a jockey would use to get their thoroughbred across the finish line to win by a nose. She had possibly borrowed it from one of the stables here on the farm, but more likely it was hers.
“Strip naked and get on your knees,” she said in a voice that was barley a whisper.
“Yes, Miss Julia,” I replied as I kicked off my shoes and began to remove my clothes as fast as possible.
“Take a look on the bed and tell me what you see,” she commanded, stepping to one side so that her bed was now in full view. Until this day I had always envisioned her sleeping on a king sized bed draped in lush satin sheets. In reality she had a full sized bed, which barely fit into the tiny room and was covered with a plain quilt.
“It’s a pair of thigh high boots, Miss Julia,” I answered, now kneeling at the foot of her bed. The boots were black leather with pointed toes and stiletto heels that had to be at least five inches tall. Although I saw a zipper on the side, this was a pair that also laced up in the front through chrome grommets near the foot and what looked like too many chrome hooks to count all the way up to the top of the shaft. A pair of genuine dominatrix boots straight out of my perverse fantasies.
When Miss Julia and I had first met, she told me that she owned a pair of thigh high boots and I would eventually see them once I had proven I knew how to properly worship her riding boots. While I was delighted to learn that I might have finally proven myself worthy, I couldn’t help but notice that this pair of boots looked brand new.
The sole and heel tip on one boot was just inches from my face and it looked like it had never been on the floor, and the scent of the black leather was strong and intoxicating as if the pair were fresh out of the box. There was no time to contemplate whether or not Miss Julia had lied to me at the time about owning boots like this, because she distracted me from my thoughts by slowly and gently tracing the tip of her riding crop from the small of my back up to the base of my neck.
“Do you like those boots, Eric,” she asked teasingly, knowing well what my answer would be. Then she asked if I would like to see her wear them, and again I answered,
“Yes, Miss Julia.”
“Well then,” she said, now standing behind me. “Before that happens, you need to turn around and properly worship the boots I’m wearing right now.”
Staying on my knees, I turned around and quickly dropped my elbows to the wooden floor, the planks worn perfectly smooth over perhaps a hundred years. I lightly kissed the rounded toes of her black rubber boots, and then slowly licked the tops, stopping at the base of the shaft.
Then I gently kissed her boots just below the ankles and licked the sides of the low flat heels, taking my time. She didn’t say a word as I slowly kissed and licked my way up the shaft of one boot, then crawled around on the floor behind her to work my way back down to the floor. While I had licked these boots before, this time I made sure that my lips or tongue made contact with every square inch. The black rubber was smooth, and lightly warmed from her body heat.
As I began to worship my way up the backside of her other boot, Miss Julia began to lightly run the tip of her crop through my hair. Gently tracing through it and playing with one lock of hair and then another. She had told me that she liked that I wore my hair a bit longer than most men, and I had been letting it grow a bit more since then just to please her.
As I circled around her other side, my tongue not breaking contact with the shaft of her boot, Miss Julia continued to caress my naked body with the tip of her riding crop. I’d seen enough femdom video clips on the internet to know that a crop could deliver a lot of pain, and I wouldn’t mind taking a few strikes from it to see just how bad it hurt, but for right now I was content. Feeling the tip of her crop gently dragging across my back like a slow massage was wonderful, and extremely arousing.
Miss Julia placed the tip of her riding crop under my chin and without a word gently directed me to raise my head. On my knees directly in front of her, staring up into her dark brown eyes but stealing glances at her firm breasts covered by tight satin and lace, she told me that I had done a good job and that she was pleased.
She then sat on the edge of the bed and quietly ordered me to take off her boots. They had no zippers and appeared to be a snug fit, but kneeling in front of her and cupping one hand around the back of a heel, I was able to pull the first boot easily off her foot.
A plain white ankle sock covered the foot of her nylon stocking, and she held it up to my face as I set her boot on the floor to my side. I held her foot gently in my hands and pressed my nose lightly into the sole, deeply breathing in the faint odor of light sweat. There also seemed to be just a hint of perfume near her ankle, as if she had planned to have her foot in my face all along.
I caressed and lightly kissed her socked foot, inhaling deeply. Miss Julia hadn’t ordered me to do this but she didn’t object. My cock now hard and straining, she pulled her foot away and presented me with her other boot. When I had removed it, she told me to smell the inside. Placing the open end of the shaft over my nose and mouth, I slowly inhaled the lightly damp perfumed atmosphere.
“How does that smell?” she asked.
“It smells wonderful, Miss Julia,” was my muffled reply. I thought I would get to savor the moment longer but then she handed me one her thigh high boots, the tall unlaced shaft flopping open and the long laces draping on the floor threatening to become a tangled mess. She presented her left foot to me, down turned with her toes pointed up, as if wearing a high heeled shoe. This allowed me to easily slip her foot into the leather boot.
I was really nervous about being able to lace up Miss Julia’s boots to her satisfaction. All the hooks to loop around and the seemingly mile long laces, it looked like it might take all night. Then she turned slightly and stretched her leg out along the edge of the bed. That way I could position the long unlaced open boot shaft under her smooth nylon sheathed leg. It was now just up to me to lace through all the hooks.
Some time ago I had come across a video on the internet where a dominatrix had her male slave lace up her pair of thigh high boots. Even if the video had been staged with paid actors, I was still envious of the guy, and it was in a way tough to believe I was in that situation right now.
I remembered that he had hooked one of the laces first, and then with both laces off to the same side, he was able to hook the two laces at once. Then in a quick side to side motion he moved up the shaft two hooks at a time. He had made it seem quick and easy. I tried to duplicate the technique, thinking that Miss Julia would be impressed.
My efforts were slow and a bit clumsy, flipping the long laces from one side of her leg to the next, periodically having to draw them out through my fingers to their full length to prevent them from tangling. I was halfway up to her knee when she slapped her riding crop on the back of one of my hands.
“Where did you learn that?” she demanded to know as I recoiled in pain and put the back of my hand to my mouth, sucking on the hot stinging welt. “Have you been putting on another woman’s boots? A professional dominatrix perhaps?” she accused.
“Miss Julia, I can explain,” I said, and then told her about the video. “Before we first met, I considered trying to find a pro domme,” I confessed. “But I couldn’t do it. Even if they enjoyed their work, they’d still just be with me for the money. This is…” I fought to find a proper term. “Intimate. You, a girlfriend. We can go out and have a good time, but then you also know how to dominate me. The spankings, licking your boots, I don’t want to do that with anyone but you, Miss Julia.”
I had sunk down even lower on my knees, my cheek against her leg covered in soft black leather, looking up her face. Her expression looked as if she were deep in thought. After a few long moments she gently tapped her crop on the side of her boot and told me,
“Get back to work.”
While I had been lacing her boot nice and snug, when I got to her knee I tried to leave a bit of slack, thinking that might be needed so she could comfortably bend her leg. I wasn’t sure how much slack to leave, and was concerned about what might happen if the laces were too loose and popped off one or more of the hooks. The bright red mark on the back of my hand still stung. If that was the price I paid for showing off, the punishment for screwing up the job would be harsh.
After passing the laces around the last of the hooks, there was still plenty left over. Miss Julia bent her knee, raising it off the bed, giving me room to wrap the excess laces around the top of her boot, where I tied them neatly.
Her mini skirt had ridden up exposing the dark border of her stocking top, a bright silver clasp from her garter belt locked firmly to it in the front. I could also see a tight triangular patch of black lace covering her crotch. She was unshaven, perhaps even untrimmed, given the number of stray dark pubic hairs which peeked around the edges of the fabric.
“Enjoying the view?” she teased, lightly grasping a handful of my hair and pulling my face in for a closer look.
“Yes, Miss Julia,” I answered, my mouth feeling dry and my penis throbbing.
“This is my favorite garter belt,” she said. “It’s a six-shooter.” Miss Julia gave a low laugh and pulled up her skirt some more so I could see that there were three straps holding up each stocking. It might also be some sort of inside joke as I remembered she owned a gun of some kind, but couldn’t recall how I knew that. I lost my focus and only heard the last bit of a sentence, something about a garter belt leaving her easily accessible.
Miss Julia placed the sole of her boot squarely on my chest and gently but firmly pushed me back away from the edge of the bed. She then placed her other leg up on the bed, and callously tossed me her other unlaced boot.
Now having a bit of experience, I could have probably laced up the second boot faster, but I worked as slowly as I dared to enjoy the task. When I had finished, she stood up and adjusted her skirt back into place.
“I know you want to lick these boots, Eric. Right now though, all you’ll get is a small taste. Place one light kiss on the toe of each boot and don’t linger,” she ordered.
I did as I was told, the scent of new leather strong as I lightly pressed my lips against the toes of her boots.
“Now one kiss at the base of each heel,” she commanded, and started to caress my back with her riding crop as I lay one cheek against the wooden floor to kiss the tip of a tall spiked heel.
“Very well,” Miss Julia said after I had kissed the heel of her other boot. She stood in front of me as I remained kneeling on the floor.
“You’ve been very attentive and obedient so far, Eric. You haven’t been foolish enough to intentionally be disrespectful or refuse an order to see what you could get away with. A smart move,” she emphasized. “I’ve had no reason to punish you, but perhaps that is why you are still willing to go out me. You are here in my bedroom and should consider that to be a privilege. I’m ready to take our relationship to the next level, and can see that you are ready too.”
Miss Julia started to gently stroke the underside of my hard penis with the tip of her riding crop. I shuddered, having been so strongly aroused for what seemed like eternity, and I thought I would shoot multiple bursts of cum all over her boots. She must have sensed I was close to the point of no return, so she tucked her crop under one arm and strutted slowly around behind me, the new leather boots making soft creaking noises.
“However, before we can take things any further, you need to be tested,” she said in a soft menacing voice. “I need to know if you can handle being punished by me. Stand up, and hold onto that shelf,” she ordered.
While I wanted a few lashes with the crop, to feel the difference in the pain compared to a paddle or belt, I sensed that she was about to give me a severe whipping. I was terrified, yet I wanted to roll with her onto the bed later this evening, so I slowly rose to my feet.
“Please, Miss Julia,” I begged in a weak voice. “Be merciful.”
“Shut up!” she yelled from behind me, and I flinched at her suddenly raised voice. “Do as I say!”
The bedroom had no closet. Instead, an entire wall had been covered with an assortment of brackets, scrap pieces of plywood, and lengths of used piping, arranged as a system of shelving and rods for clothes hangers. I lightly gripped the edge of a shelf that was at shoulder level. Thick plywood that at one time was painted a light blue color that I associate with swimming pools. Upon it were several plastic milk crates loaded with shoes and boots. Different heel heights and colors, most of them pretty sexy in some way, all jumbled together with no sense of order.
Miss Julia was standing behind me speaking in a low voice, though I confess it was difficult to concentrate on her exact words, essentially telling me that I was about to get a fierce whipping, and would receive a similar one if I ever displeased her.
Her riding crop made a loud snap as the leather tip made contact with my bare ass. I flinched and stifled a cry of pain in a hiss through gritted teeth.
“Hold still, bitch,” Miss Julia said in a warning tone.
The crop landed at random on my buttocks in a series of loud snaps, and each time I recoiled in pain. The impact reminded me of a time several years ago when some friends and I rented CO2 powered guns and shot paintballs at each other in some local woods. I had several good bruises and welts after that day despite wearing several layers of clothing for protection. There was no doubt in my mind that she would be leaving marks on me this evening.
Suddenly the tip of her crop snapped me on the back of my right thigh. I couldn’t help jumping and crying out.
“I didn’t tell you to dance,” she said. “Hold still or I’ll have to restrain you.”
There was no doubt in my mind that she would have something on hand to anchor me to the wall. The open bedroom door was to my right, and even though I was naked I preferred to not be bound and have the option of making an escape if I felt that the situation was getting out of hand.
I was almost glad when she resumed whipping me on the ass and I tried to hold as still as possible. Though my eyes were tearing up with the pain, I looked down the improvised clothing rack. It looked like she had a lot of nice clothes for the office. Living rent free would be an advantage for a woman who liked to shop. Through watery eyes her clothes were a blur of satin and other fabric that looked expensive, mostly in conservative colors.
“Ahh!” I cried out, jumping and howling as another blow landed on the back of a thigh. “I’m sorry, Miss Julia,” I offered as a quick apology, planted my feet and gripped the shelf again with white knuckles.
There was a long pause and I heard her slender boot heels click on the wooden floor a few times. Perhaps she was reaching for a roll of duct tape that I might not have noticed on her cluttered dresser. I was getting really nervous when suddenly three sharp blows snapped the back of my left thigh, almost all of them in the same location. Groaning quietly, I managed to keep my feet planted on the floor, though I thought my left leg was going to collapse under me from the pain.
Bowing my head and assuming the worst, the next loud snaps across my buttocks felt lighter, though that was probably my imagination. Down at the far end of the wall of clothes I could see some dresses on hangers. The ones against the corner were bright colors and looked out of place. Then I remembered my sister had kept all of the bridesmaid dresses she had worn, and looked as if Miss Julia did the same. My sister eventually married, but the way Miss Julia liked to dish out pain, it was easy to imagine her as a bachelorette for many years to come.
The next painful blow landed on my right shoulder blade. It was so unexpected that one hand lost its grip and I had to stifle a yelp of pain.
“You just can’t take it,” she said under her breath before the riding crop snapped again on the opposite shoulder blade.
I glanced to my right through the open bedroom door. It would be one long stride from there to the front door, which was standing open. The screen door beyond would offer little resistance, but without my clothes where would I go?
Bowing my head and bracing myself, I squinted back the tears. As she whipped my ass some more I tried to detach myself from the moment, recalling the last trip I had taken with my previous girlfriend to the Smoky Mountains.
In my mind I tried to bring back ever detail of our little rental chalet with the round bed and heart-shaped whirlpool tub. The balcony overlooked the wooded mountainside and the tourist town of Gatlinburg below. Over those few days we only drove down in the evenings to dine at restaurants. The rest of the time we spent in bed, or in the tub, on the balcony, making love wherever and whenever we pleased.
How had that relationship gone bad? Pressured to marry and settle down, had it been too predictable or normal for my kinky desires? Was it worth abandoning to end up here in some shack taking a painful test administered by a beautiful but potentially dangerous woman?
If I passed the test and got Miss Julia into bed she probably wouldn’t bother taking off her thigh high boots, and I tried to imagine what the soft leather would feel like with her legs wrapped around my waist as I got to bang her for the first time, convincing myself that it would be worth enduring the pain.
Miss Julia’s riding crop landed a few sharp snaps on my tender shoulder blades, and one hit on the back of a thigh that almost made me lose my balance. Out of a corner of my eye I saw her riding crop land on the bed as if tossed carelessly to the side. Her spike heeled boots clicked on the plank floor and leather creaked as if she were pacing slowly. I was silently crying, and slightly trembling, and there was no way that she couldn’t notice. Was the test over? Did I pass? I couldn’t help thinking that she was simply taking a break. Maybe she would bind my wrists to some of the shelf brackets because I had moved around too much. Her wooden paddle was surely close at hand so maybe I still had to endure a number of painful swats, or get whipped with one of the many belts that hung close by on a makeshift rack assembled from scrap wood and mismatched screws.
Thinking of femdom porn I had looked at, the most brutal instrument of all seemed to be the cane. The slim bamboo wand that sliced through the air and left bright red stripes on a bare bottom and sometimes even broke the skin. It would make sense that Miss Julia would own such a thing, and I hated to think of one in her hand. If she did pull out a cane and only wanted to give my sore ass one stroke I would have to bolt out the front door. Running barefoot on the gravel road would be painless in comparison to what I had just survived.
“Turn around and get on your knees,” she ordered, breaking the dreadful silence. I readily complied, the test hopefully over.
Miss Julia stood at the foot of the bed with her back turned to me, her ass just inches from my face. After a few moments she reached for the narrow zipper that ran up the backside of her skirt, and to my surprise she slowly lowered it. She let her mini skirt fall to the floor with a slight rustle of black fabric, where she stepped out of it and kicked it off to one side.
The pale skin of her perfectly shaped ass was enticingly framed by the rear straps of her garter belt, which was made of wide heavy looking cloth and had none of the usual lace trim. The stocking clips and strap adjustments were robust shiny chrome. Not the usual cheap lingerie garter belt, this one seemed like it was made for regular use, and it was easy to envision her wearing it under a conservative skirt to work.
The panties I had caught a glimpse of earlier were a thong, and a thin strip of black lace was firmly clenched between her butt cheeks. I had no idea if I had lost my erection during the painful whipping, but my cock was straining now, my scrotum feeling tight with denial.
“Kiss my ass,” Miss Julia said quietly. While that phrase is normally an insult, coming from her lips I knew it was an order, and I willingly obeyed.
Using a combination of soft gentle kisses, and light nibbling ones that I might normally apply to a woman’s neck or earlobes, I worshiped her sweet ass for what seemed like a long time. Listening to her slow deep breathing, I tried to gauge what she liked.
Then she reached behind her and grabbed a handful of my hair, positioning my nose right in the crack of her ass.
“Lick it,” she commanded, spreading her legs a bit so that my nose was enveloped between her soft cheeks.
I’d never done such a thing before. Maybe under different circumstances I’d find such a task repulsive, but she had showered not long ago and smelled of soap and light perfume. Also, I didn’t dare disobey her. That would call for a real punishment session, and right after my so-called test, I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it.
Starting as low as I could, I gave a slow continuous lick upwards to the waistband of her thong, the lace strip between her cheeks coarse on the tip of my tongue. After doing this a few times, I concentrated lower, where I knew her asshole was barely hidden by the fabric. I assumed she would tell me to do this soon enough, and while I was a bit unsure about it, I felt it best to make the move when I was ready instead of risking hesitating when given the order.
Miss Julia responded with a soft moan. Her high heels scraped on the floor as she spread her legs some more, then bent over the edge of her bed giving me better access. Reaching around and hooking an index finger under the thong’s vertical strip of lace, she pulled it off to one side, fully exposing herself.
Sensing what she wanted, I gave a few tentative licks at her small puckered asshole and hearing her gasps and moans in response, I moved in more aggressively. There was no foul taste or odor as I might have guessed, still I couldn’t help but thinking that what I was doing was nasty. At the same time I was more turned on than any time I had gone down on a woman in the usual way.
Soon she was breathing quickly, occasionally punctuated by low moans or hissing gasps. I felt a subtle rhythmic movement in her body and I realized that she was fingering herself. She probably had her whole hand down the front of her panties, pleasuring herself while I worshiped her asshole.
Sensing her tension building, I didn’t let up, swirling around the small indentation, occasionally probing her with the tip of my tongue. She came with a series of hard stifled grunts. I tried to maintain contact while her hips bucked involuntarily, and then I slowed to light teasing licks as her spasms subsided. Her breathing was now loud slow exhales, like a steam locomotive throttling down as it pulls into a train station.
The Royal Valentine’s Day Ball was tomorrow and though I was expected to attend, the doctor had visited the night before and advised my husband it might not be wise for me to go. I ran my hands over my full, swollen breasts and rounded tummy. My second baby was due any day, and a night of dancing might be too strenuous, the doctor felt. Frankly, I didn’t even know how I would find a gown to fit my pregnant body, but I would do whatever my husband wished. I stretched out beneath the blankets and waited for him to come to me, as he did each morning, thinking back to my first Valentine’s Day Ball, five years before. . .
It was two weeks before the Valentine’s Ball and the palace was a hive of activity. During the six months of corvée work all 18 year olds–except for those of noble birth–were required to do for the royal family after they finished school, I had gotten used to being a downstairs maid. I knew my duties and I did them well, just counting off the days until I could return to my family. But then the preparations for the ball began and everything was upside down. Downstairs maids were upstairs maids, indoor help was outdoor help as everyone scurried to make the palace ready for Valentine’s Ball.
There was a ball every year, I knew, although a family of my station did not typically receive an invitation, but this year’s Ball was something else again. The king had decided he wanted to step down, but before he could, the prince must marry. At age 30, Prince Aaron was the most eligible bachelor in the kingdom. King Rudolph had decreed that should he not become engaged by the night of the ball, he must pick a girl from those attending.
I, along with several other corvée girls, was hard at work scrubbing and polishing the ornate wood ballroom floor under the watchful eye on Mrs. Swigg, head of all the downstairs maids when I heard voices approach. It was the prince and his valet. I crouched lower to the floor, scrubbing with all my might, willing the prince not to see me. I had successfully avoided his attentions thus far, and I wanted to keep it that way. Everyone knew what his attentions meant, and while some of the maids welcomed the possibility, I, for one, did not.
“I’ll take that one, and that one, and that one,” I heard the prince say in a commanding voice, as if he were ordering horses or pastries. Please, I hoped, don’t let it be me he’s pointing at.
“Very good, Sire,” answered the butler. “I’ll have them brought up,” he said, as he walked over to Mrs. Swigg.
Her voice rang out firmly, “Cristina, Agatha, Ella, you are needed in the prince’s chambers.”
I sighed, pulling myself up from the floor. Even girls who served the prince directly didn’t draw always his attention; perhaps I wouldn’t either.
“Right then,” the valet was saying. “My name is Mr. Thomas.” You’ll be working in the prince’s personal chambers. I’ll need you three to clean up and change. Meet me at the bottom of the east staircase in 40 minutes. Mrs. Swigg will have your cleaning supplies ready.
Together we hurried back to our chambers for a quick wash-up. I splashed water on my face, my blue eyes staring back at me in the mirror, my white skin paler than normal with fear. I finished by smoothing down my long blonde hair and pulling my low ponytail tight. We changed, although of course we simply changed one uniform for an identical, although slightly cleaner one. We each wore a coarse brown jumper that scooped down just below our busts and fell to just below our knees. Beneath it we wore a simple white cotton shirt, held closed with a drawstring. I pulled my drawstring tight, bringing the blouse high up around my neck, while Cristina and Agatha wore theirs looser, leaving the top of the fabric just below their collarbones, but they were city girls and used to less modest fashions. On top of the jumper we each wore a simple white apron tied tight around our waists and brown slippers that allowed us to walk quietly through the palace without scuffing any floors.
In just under 40 minutes, we were at our assigned place. Mr. Thomas led us up the staircase and down the long hall to the prince’s private chambers. I hoped that he might not be there, that we could clean his rooms and go back to work in the ballroom, but when the door swung wide, there was Prince Aaron sitting at a high-backed desk, working, a pair of councilors hovering around him. Mr. Thomas gave us our assignments and we set to work, dusting, changing linens, scrubbing every surface. The prince and his advisors continued as if we weren’t even there, although once or twice I had the feeling of being watched. When we finished our work, Mr. Thomas dismissed us, complementing our efforts and putting us back in the charge of Mrs. Swigg. It was over, and with any luck, I thought, we wouldn’t be called back tomorrow. Just as the door swung closed, I heard the prince say, “I’ll have the blonde one again tomorrow. Alone.” I glanced quickly at my two brown-haired companions and shuddered.
When Mr. Thomas fetched me early the next morning, I found a pile of shirts laid on the bed, an ironing table set up and three irons warming in the fire. “I don’t understand, Mr. Thomas. The palace has its own laundry. Wouldn’t it be better for me to take the shirts there and return them when I’m done?”
The prince startled me, emerging from his bath chamber and answering my question. “Yes, that would be more efficient. But I like to watch a pretty woman at work. Now, get to it. Mr. Thomas, you may leave me. I’ll need you in two hours.”
The prince sat down at his desk and began writing as Mr. Thomas left me there alone. There was nothing to do but begin ironing. I fetched a hot iron from the fire and sprinkled water on the shirt as the iron cooled slightly. Testing it on a towel to see that it would not burn the fabric, I set to work. The prince did not speak, but now and again, I heard the scratch of his quill pen stop and sensed his eyes on me, his stare eliciting a warmth in my backside or slender hips as I ironed or knelt before the fire changing out an iron that had grown too cool for a hotter one. I watched the clock as I worked. Twenty minutes before Mr. Thomas was due back, I hung the last shirt in the wardrobe and turned around to find the prince standing just a foot away from me.
“Is that all, Your Highness? Shall I return downstairs, or do you have other duties for me?” I stammered as he towered over me, at least seven inches taller than me. His dark brown eyes looked me up and down, lingering on my breasts before returning to my eyes.
“What is your name, girl?”
“Ella,” I answered. What did he want from me? He was staring at my lips now, and I felt as if I could not breathe, as if all the air had been forced from the room. And then he was leaning toward me, his hand coming up ask if to touch my face. I stepped backward.
“Don’t touch me!” I cried.
“What?” he thundered at me, his brown eyes looking black with anger. “What is this impudence?”
Not knowing where the strength came from, I answered, “I’m here to work, Your Highness. And I have worked hard. My corvee is over the day after the ball and I want to go home to my family. I don’t want to be one of your conquests.”
The prince threw back his head and laughed. “My conquests! That’s rich, girl. Most women are falling all over themselves for an opportunity to be alone with me.”
For a moment, when I saw his eyes blacken with rage, I had been afraid, but now I felt more confident. “Begging your pardon, Your Highness, I know what happens to women who attract your attentions; they are married off to or made the mistress of some minor royal, councilor, or general.”
“And that is such a terrible fate?” the prince asked.
“Those men, you give them everything: their titles, their power, even their women. They are nothing but for their toadying up to you and the king. My father is a farmer, but he owns his land, his cows, his sheep, and goats. He has worked hard for everything he has and he owns it all outright. I would rather be married to a man like that, a man I could respect, than some sycophant.”
“I see, Ella. Very well, you may leave me now. Report back to your regular duties.”
I thought that would be it, counted myself lucky, but the next day, while I was polishing one of the silver candelabras that would light up the ballroom in just a few days’ time, I was summoned again by Mr. Thomas. “Change please, if you would, Ella, and meet me at the bottom of the east staircase.”
“Mr. Thomas. . .” I began, but he waved me off.
“East staircase, 20 minutes,” he said as he departed.
Cleaned and changed, I met Mr. Thomas again and ascended the staircase. As we walked down the hall, I saw a guard posted outside the door to the Prince’s chamber. My heart beat faster with dread. Was I to be punished for my words yesterday?
Mr. Thomas pushed the door open. There stood a low table, covered in silver of all kind: candlesticks, heart-shaped platters and serving bowls; forks, knives and spoons. A mountain of silver, plus rags and polish.
“You told the Prince you had worked hard, Ella. And work hard you shall. This is the silver for the Valentine’s Ball, or most of it. As you finish, more will be brought to you. Appear here for work each morning at 8 a.m.,” Mr. Thomas explained.
“And the guard?” I asked.
Prince Aaron entered the room behind me. “The guard is here for your protection, Ella, from my unwanted advances. Should you call out ‘Stop,’ he has orders to enter at once and rescue you from my clutches.” The prince’s voice was hard, but his eyes twinkled. I wasn’t sure if was serious or teasing me, but I set to work, determined to endure what could not be avoided.
“Don’t forget the gloves, miss,” Mr. Thomas instructed. “You wouldn’t want to hurt your hands before your work is completed.”
I worked for hours. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the prince watching me as he attended to his own duties, councilors coming and going, menus for the grand Valentine’s banquet being revised and refined, all of this going on with no one questioning a servant girl polishing silver in the middle of the Prince’s bed chamber. Once, when we were alone, he spoke without looking at me, “You should stop and stretch each hour, Ella. You’ll find yourself stiff from working so long in one position.”
It was true; I could feel the stiffness in my body as stood before the windows and stretched, looking out over the countryside, blanketed in snow. In just over a week, I would be home again. My eyes couldn’t wait to see all the familiar places of my childhood. I knew the prince was watching me as I bent and touched my toes, then stood up and arched from side to side, working the kinks from my muscles, but he didn’t approach me and I breathed a sigh of relief.
The days passed, mostly without me speaking or anyone speaking to me, other than a “Good morning,” “Good work,” and “Good night.” Many hours I was alone in the room as the prince and his valet attended to duties elsewhere and I found I missed his presence, although it was more comfortable to stop and stretch without feeling as if my body was on display. My meals were brought to me there, and I used a small washroom located off a council chamber that was part of the prince’s apartments. As the week drew to a close, I noticed that the loads of silver being brought to me were smaller, but more intricate. I polished dozens of silver Cupids Mr. Thomas told me would stand on the large banquet tables, scrubbing with a small brush, but the pile grew smaller day by day, until at the end of the week there was no more silver left for me to polish.
“Good work, Ella,” Mr. Thomas said. “I will expect you tomorrow morning at 8 a.m.” When I appeared the next morning as ordered, the guard was there as usual, but Mr. Thomas was not. The guard rapped on the door and I heard the prince order me to enter. I looked around, but there was no work for me to do. No ironing, no silver, and not even a cleaning implement that I could see.
“Good morning, Your Highness. What are my duties today?” I inquired.
“It is a strange thing, Ella. This is the last week of my bachelorhood, and yet I do not want to be alone. Your duties are to keep me company. Don’t worry, the guard will remain in place. You’ll find a basket of needlework next to the chair there and a few books on the side table, as I might ask you to read to me. You are not to clean or labor, but simply find some womanly task to keep you occupied.” With that, he turned his back to me and sat down to work at his desk.
I sat down as ordered and began doing some fancywork my mother had taught me, making delicate lace out of fine white thread I found in the basket. The Prince ignored me altogether until lunchtime, when his meal was brought to his chambers. “Come Ella, join me while I dine.”
I followed him into the salon, where lunch was set up. At first, I thought it was only for one, but the prince sliced off food for me and presented me with a plate and fork. We ate in silence as Prince Aaron studied me intently and I tried, just as intently, not to notice. When we finished and the dishes were taken away, he spoke again, “Ella, I find I am tired. Come and read to me. Pull a chair up next to the bed. Select any book you like.”
I picked a book, and pulling up a chair as ordered, I began to read. The prince lay with his eyes clothes, and presently I could tell he had fallen asleep. I studied him then, his high forehead and sharp jaw, his aquiline nose and jet-black hair. He rode often to horses and his body was long and lean, his muscles clearly well-developed beneath his clothing. When he stirred, I began reading again as if I had never left off.
The next day went on much as the one before it, until it came time for lunch. Unlike the previous day’s meal, there was no extra plate and no extra fork. Perhaps I was meant to go without food, I thought, or eat in the dining hall as I had done before. “Join me, Ella,” I heard the prince order. I noticed my chair was pulled much closer to his than the day before and I sat, waiting. The prince cut into the food, asking, “Are you hungry, Ella?”
“Then you will let me feed you.”
I did not know what to make of this order, but I had already confessed my hunger. He stretched out the fork to me, watching my face as he fed me each bite. I flushed, feeling again that sensation I had had right before he had tried to kiss me, that their simply wasn’t any air in the room to breathe. And, inexplicably, I felt the place between my legs grow warm, as my body did when his eyes rested upon me.
When the meal was over, he dismissed me. “Thank you, Ella. You may return to Mrs. Swigg.” No explanation of why he didn’t want me. Had I done something to anger him? Was my company no longer desired? I hurried out of the room and down the stairs, finding Mrs. Swigg supervising in the kitchen.
“There you are, Ella. Finished with the silver then? Good, I need some more busy hands to help prepare the mulled wine for the Ball. The guests will be arriving chilled from their travels.”
It was good to be back at work with the other girls, slicing fruits and grinding spices, stirring great vats of wine as it cooked down. And yet I felt something missing. Here, I was just another girl wearing an identical uniform, not someone anyone looked upon as anything anyone, the way the prince looked at me. I told myself not to think such things. I wanted to return home in freedom, not to become entangled in palace life.
I worked again the next morning in the kitchen before I was summoned again to the prince just before lunch. I rushed as I brushed my hair, making my long blonde tresses shine before tying them back again in a ponytail. Nodding to the guard, I knocked on the door and was given permission to enter.
“Ah, Ella, I’m just starting lunch, please join me,” the prince called to me. I hurried in and sat down, noticing that my chair was again pulled close to his and there was no plate or fork for me. He held a grape. “Care for one, Ella?” he asked. I nodded, expecting him to invite me to take one. “Open your mouth, then.” What could this mean? I opened my mouth and he fed me by hand, as one would a baby, or a pet. When his thumb brushed my lip, the touch burned me like fire. Bite by bite he fed me by hand, my body reacting to each inadvertent touch. I felt my nipples harden and knew they were visible through my blouse, no matter how high I had tied the neck. My loins grew wet and I pressed my thighs tight together, willing the prince not to notice my arousal. He pushed back from the table. “I have some things to take care of. Wait for me here. Today you are my guest, and not my servant. Simply make yourself comfortable until I return.” He strode from the room.
I tried to keep myself busy, reading and doing fancywork, but the hours dragged by and the prince had not returned. His chambers were a state. Why was Mr. Thomas not arranging for them to be cleaned? Perhaps everyone was too busy with the ball, I thought. There was nothing to clean with, but I could at least straighten, I thought. I returned the books strewn about to their bookcases and placed the lunch dishes in the hallway to be taken away. In the bed chamber, I placed dirty clothes in the laundry hamper and hung up a jacket that dangled off the back of the chair. I had just finished making the bed when I heard the door open. “Good evening, Prince. . .” I began, but he cut me off, his voice hard and angry.
“I gave you a simple order. You are my guest, and not my servant,” he said, repeating his earlier instructions. “Was that somehow too difficult for you to understand, Ella?”
“No Sire, I just thought. . .”
He cut me off again. “I didn’t ask you to think, I asked you to follow instructions.” He grabbed me hard around the wrist. “Don’t bother calling for the guard. Believe me, I have no intention of kissing you.” He pushed me to the desk. “Put your hands on the table and bend over.” He had come in from riding horses and he held a crop in his hand. My eyes watered as I thought of what was to come. He flipped up the skirt of my uniform, exposing my underpants. Whack, whack, whack, the riding crop stung across my buttocks and legs.
“I’m so sorry, Sire, I’m so sorry!” I cried. “I only meant to make you more comfortable.” The crop burned with each stripe across by tender backside and soft creamy legs. And then he stopped. I collapsed crying on the floor as he strode from the room, slamming the door behind me.
I felt the heat and the sting as I lay there crying. I truly had only meant to make him happy, and now he hated me. When I felt strong enough, I went into the washroom and splashed cold water on my tear-swollen face and straightened my clothing, but when I tried to leave, the guard blocked me. “The prince says you are ordered to stay here until his return.” Gingerly, I closed the door and went back into Prince Aaron’s rooms.
He did not return all that night. I curled up on a sofa in the salon, trying to find a comfortable position between the hard cushions and the lingering pain from the whipping. Finally, I fell asleep. When I awoke, Prince Aaron was sitting in the chair watching me. A blanket I had not had the night before was draped over me. When I opened my eyes, he spoke. “Shall we begin again, then? The Valentine’s Day Ball is in four days. In five days, I will be engaged and you will be done with your corvée. Until then can you follow my instructions? You may find some of them uncomfortable, but I promise you will remain in your virginal state throughout.”
“Yes, Sire. I am sorry for displeasing you. I will not do so again.”
“Very good. Go downstairs and get cleaned up and changed, then return immediately.”
I scurried out the door, unblocked by the guard, and was back before the half-hour was out.
Agreeing to join you for some crazy-morning, outdoor playtime, I met you in the parking lot just as you were slipping on a backpack. I lead the way.
I found the most spectacular park destination. The rough footpath that wanders off through the tall wild grass is easy enough to miss if you don’t know to watch for it. It’s about a nine iron just off the main trail, past some concealing bushes. There’s a clearing enclosed by 3 of the biggest trees I’ve ever seen. Some kids have set up a fire pit in the center and dragged in some fallen tree trunks for seating. The clearing is just off the river. The far side of the river is rocky and inaccessible and this bank is lined with rushes. The clearing is completely private.
This is the kind of place teens might frequent at night, but I was confident we would have no unexpected company this early in the morning. I sat down on a log and watched as you opened the pack, took out a blanket and spread it out beneath one of the trees. You also took out some cord, the sight of which got me excited and nervous at the same time.
You came to sit beside me, slid your hand over my neck and pulled me in for a friendly kiss. I was nervous. You leaned close so that you could whisper your plans in my ear. “I want you to take off all your clothes. Then I’m going to bind your hands and tie you to that tree over there. I’m going to have my way with you while you’re helpless to do anything about it. I’ll stop anytime you want — just say the word. Are your ready?”
I blushed and nodded. We stood and you pulled me close for a reassuring kiss and hug.
I began to undress. First my t-shirt then my athletic pants. I hesitated standing in my underwear and little red running shoes. “uh-uh… take those off too. You can leave your shoes on.” I unclasped my bra and shimmied my panties down, slipping them over my sneakers.
“Nice,” you said. As I stood there you walked around me, running your hand over my skin: over the swell of my breasts, across my tummy, over my hip and around to my ass. You gave me a smack and my skin goose bumped.
Taking both of my hands palms together and looping a length of cord over my wrists, you wound the cord 5 times making sure the coils sat neatly one on top of the other, then tied it off. I flexed. My hands were not coming apart. You looped another length of cord between my arms and over the bindings then lead me towards the blanket where you threw the open ends of the cord over an overhead branch. The branch was just out of my reach. You pulled until my arms were straight overhead, and then tied the loose ends to another branch on the far side of the tree.
You wandered off for a moment looking around the bushes for something. I was feeling very exposed. All that I could do was to press my knees together, twisting at the end of your rope.
From across the clearing I could see that you had a green branch with you. This made me nervous. With your camera phone you snapped a picture of me biting my lip. “Don’t fret,” you grinned as you approached. You started stroking me with the branch, running it up the outsides of my thighs and a cross my knees. It was ticklish, delicate and sharp all at once. You passed the branch over my stomach and I clenched. I keep anticipating more but you’re just playing with me. While you teased my skin with the branch you continued to take pictures of my curves, with and without the branch. You walk around behind me dragging the tip of the branch along my skin, around my waist. I curl away from its touch but realized I couldn’t get very far with my hands taunt above my head like this. You were behind me. I could feel the branch scratch my shoulder blades, my ribs and trace my spine. I started to relax, enjoying this weird exposure and this unique organic caress.
THWACK! You smacked my ass with the branch. I jumped and twisted on the cord. And laughed because the branch was too green to cause any real damage. You wrapped your arm around my stomach and waist to hold me still, then whipped my ass quickly 4 times. Ouch – it stung just a little. You stepped back and quickly snapped a few more shots of my blushing ass as I twisted on the cord.
“That’s enough, you sexy bitch. I’m so fucking horny right now,” you growled, tossing the branch and phone aside. You came around in front of me and grabbed by breasts, squeezing them together and started to kiss them. Mmmmm… I was so sensitive now. A bolt of electricity coursed through my body pooling in my groin. I could feel my moisture building. You gave my tits a playful slap and stepped back.
You removed your shirt and stripped off your jeans. Still with your boxers on you knelt in front of me, slipped a hand between my thighs and threw one of my legs over your shoulder. I stumbled a bit balancing on one foot and dangling from the cord. You pressed your mouth to my pussy, tasting me, your tongue exploring my folds then settle your mouth on my clit. You sucked it, flicked it with your tongue, teasing it in response to my twisting and bucking. Oh wow.
Standing again, you pushed your wet mouth against mine so that I could taste my own sweet flavour. Without pulling your mouth away from mine you pulled down your boxers. Your now free penis rubbed against me, brushing against my pussy lips. I wanted you inside me and rotated my hips to bring you closer. But you turned and walked back to your backpack. You took out a condom and stood so that I could watch you put it on. You grabbed a small bottle from the pack and returned to stand behind me. “I’m going to fuck your ass and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”… “oh, yes please,” I mewed and pushed my bottom out to you.
Kicking my feet apart, you positioned yourself behind me and thrust into my pussy. Oh! You grabbed me around the waist and thrust up into me several times. Fuck that’s deep.
“You’ve got such a sexy body,” you crooned and then leaned back. With your cock still inside me I felt you drizzled lube into my crack. It was cold. You slid your thumb down coating it and spreading the solution over my anus, then pushed your thumb inside. I gasped and you thrust with your cock a few more times. “You’re so fucking tight. I can’t wait to feel this squeezing my cock.”
I was panting my excitement and nervous at the same time. “Please. Now,” I begged. And you laughed.
“K, Baby.” You pulled out and pressed your cock against my ass. The head went in easily but I wasn’t ready for the rest. I yelped and stood up on my tiptoes. You stopped and let me take back some of the control. I gasped and started to settle back onto you wagging my way down the length of your cock. I moaned as you slowly filled me up. With your entire cock in my ass, you grabbed me around the waist and held me in place.
“You’re such a dirty slut,” you whispered in my ear. “Out here in the park where someone could come along at anytime. Bound to this tree in the morning sun… my fat cock in your ass… and you’re fucking loving it, aren’t you?” You smacked my ass and reached around to grab both of my tits – hard.
You started to move in and out of me, slow at first but then harder as I let you know that I was ready to pick up the pace. “Oh, yes,” I breathed. “Yes, yes, yes…”.
You reached between my legs and started to rub my clit while you fucked me. My legs began to tremble. Fuck. I was going to cum. I could feel it building in the pit of my stomach. I pushed back to meet your thrusts. Oh, and there it was! I started to shudder and I crunched forward as much as I could, considering my position. I tried to twist away from you but you pinned me in place and my ass contracted tightly around your cock. You choked on your laugh.
“Shhhhhh…” you soothed me. “Thank you,” I breathed.
When I was calm again, you gently pulled out and walked around the tree to release me. My hands were tingling from being held high for so long. I didn’t realize my knees were as week as they were and I folded to the blanket that covered the ground.
“Mmmmm, perfect. Stick your ass in the air for me. I’m not done yet.”
After our pleasure was wrapped up, your backpack re-assembled and our clothes back on, we sat on a log and you took out your camera phone. We flipped through the many pictures of me. I blushed, worried about this evidence getting out. “Don’t worry,” you kissed my forehead and started to delete them.
“Wait! Not that one!” It was the perfect shot. My face, except for the edge of a smile, was mostly hidden behind my stretched up arm. I was twisted so that my right breast was in profile. My hip was jutting out with a sensual curve and my bottom was pink with switch marks. “Email it to me.”
My boyfriend is always a little aggressive with me in the bedroom (choking, spanking, biting, pinching, hair-pulling, etc) but I have never ‘mentally’ submitted to him…until last week. The evening was a bit of a challenge for both of us as he has never controlled or dominated a woman fully either.
So the night began. I arrived at his place with my big toy box in hand and ready to play. He told me to go upstairs, put on something pretty as well as a collar and a butt plug. I couldn’t help but smile from my excitement as I ran upstairs to get ready. I came back down quite quickly (trying to hide my obvious smile) and, without a word, he motioned for me to sit on my knees in front of him with my head down and to wait. I immediately did as I was told and waited for him for a few minutes while he sat on the couch and typed on his laptop. My legs quickly became sore as I am not used to being in such a position for very long, so I squirmed a little. I was trying very hard to be a good little sub so my smile was starting to fade from my face as I was relaxing and setting my mind to the task. He reached over and lifted my chin with his hand and without saying a word he put a wine glass to my lips and allowed me to drink some wine. I said ‘thank you Sir’. He went back to his laptop and I waited again.
After a few more minutes he reached into the toy box and pulled out a small whip…one that has short rubber tassels no more than 8 inches in length. He slowly slid the tassels along my shoulders and up and down my arms. They felt cool and nice and smooth. Leaning behind me he lifted my black baby doll nightie, teased my ass with the whip, and then gave me a short quick snap across one of my cheeks with it. I jumped…and said ‘thank you Sir’. He whipped my ass again. Again I thanked him. It didn’t hurt too much which gave me a bit of comfort as I was really not sure of how it would feel when used on me for the first time. He reached down between my ass cheeks and felt for my butt plug. Finding it he gave it a little tap as if he was pleased with me. He continued to whip me gently…my shoulders, ass and breasts…and then he whipped my pussy. It made me jump a little but I loved it. I eagerly thanked him for that one!
Reaching back to the toy box he pulled out a roll of bondage tape…the kind that looks like black duct tape but doesn’t stick to your skin…only to itself. He lifted me up to a standing position and pulled my arms behind my back and bound my wrists with the tape. It was a unique experience to have my arms tied behind me as it has never been done to me before. I liked it.
He then turned me around and leaned me over a short bookshelf. Lifting my nightie again, he slowly stroked my left butt cheek. With a very unexpected whack, he slapped my ass…harder than I have ever been hit before. I was in shock for a moment, reeling from the pain, and then tears began to uncontrollably flow from my eyes. My knees began to shake and I was breathing quickly. He slowly caressed my ass and then turned me to face him. He looked into my eyes and hesitated for a moment when he saw my tears, but keeping a sombre face he slowly reached up and stroked my cheeks wiping the tears from my eyes. Leaning over he kissed me, my forehead and my lips. I quickly became calm once again and stood up straight and said ‘thank you Sir’ once more. Damn that hurt though.
Taking me by the arm he led me to the couch. He stopped me in front of it and reached back into the toy box and pulled out my 12″ dildo. He sat down on the couch and pulled me down over him so that I was lying across his lap, my bare ass in the air and my face pressed into the cushion. He stroked my bottom, gently caressing it and wiggling the visible butt plug which was still inside me. As I lay there I could feel him begin to press the dildo against my pussy. I spread my legs for him to make the insertion easier and he slowly penetrated me with it. Despite the pain from the slap, my pussy was dripping. Lying across his lap he began to fuck my pussy with the dildo with his right hand as his left hand slid down under my neck and grasped my throat. I was in heaven. Having my hands bound behind me while he choked and fucked me with the toy was like nothing I had ever felt before. If I had a vib on my clit I would have cum instantly but unfortunately I was denied that…but the pleasure I was getting from the dildo in my pussy rubbing my butt plug from the inside was as close to cumming as I could get. “Thank you Sir.”
After a few minutes he removed the toy from my pussy and lifted me up. Again he fed me some wine as you would a small child from a plastic cup. I eagerly drank what remained in the glass.
Walking behind me he untied the tape that was binding my wrists and instructed me to pick up the toy box and take it upstairs. As soon as the tape came off, my arms dropped heavily to my sides. It took a moment to get the feeling back and my wrists and my shoulders ached as I picked up the box but I did so as quickly as I could. I carried the box up to the bedroom, placed it on the edge of the bed, and immediately dropped to my knees with my head bowed down. There was no denying I was in full sub mode now. My body was moving on instinct as I was no longer thinking for myself.
He came into the room behind me and instructed me to lie on the bed, which I did as quickly as possible. I looked up at the ceiling and waited for his next command. He leaned over and put a blindfold over my eyes. Over the next few minutes as I lay there, he gently took each of my wrists and ankles and bound them in thick rope which he attached to the o-rings he had screwed into each corner of the wooden bed frame. I pulled my arms and legs a little to confirm that I was completely bound up and indeed I was…unable to move my body more than an inch or two. I could feel my pussy begin to throb again.
I heard him turn on some music and then he left the room. I lay there for another couple of minutes…squirming a little in anticipation but also trying to remain as calm as possible. He came back into the room and I could hear him sorting thru things in the toy box again. I felt the weight of him as he climbed up onto the bed. Again I felt him inserting something into my pussy. It started to vibrate. I am normally a very vocal girl when I feel pleasure but in sub mode I seemed to be quieter…almost afraid to make a sound…feeling like I should just receive what he is doing to me and not get pleasure from it unless he allows me. He continued to fuck my pussy with the toy and I could hear the wet sounds coming from between my legs. I was once again in heaven…unable to move my body…being used for his pleasure….a little fuck-toy for him to play with and do what he wanted with. He grasped my hand and lifted it up as high as it would go and I felt him press my fingers to his cock, motioning me to stroke it. I wrapped my fingers around his half-swollen member and with one stroke I felt the foreskin pull down over the head of his cock. The only thing is…my boyfriend is circumcised.
It was all I could do to hide the surprised smile on my face when I instantly realized i did not have my boyfriends cock in my hand. I began to stroke that unknown cock with such vigour and enthusiasm my restraints could hardly hold me back. My hips were thrusting against the toy my boyfriend was fucking me with and my mouth was open and salivating for the cock in my hand. I probably looked like a bitch in heat on that bed. My boyfriend must have seen my reaction because I heard him say ‘fuck her mouth’ to which the guy replied ‘yes Sir’. My boyfriend removed the toy from my pussy and climbed between my legs and rammed his cock inside me as the other guy leaned onto the bed and pressed his cock into my open, wanting, mouth. I delightfully gagged on his hard cock as my mouth and pussy were being fucked in unison.
My boyfriend came in my pussy as well.
He then told the guy to get onto the bed and lick my pussy. Again I heard ‘yes Sir’. With the blindfold still on, I felt the stranger climb between my thighs and begin to lick and suck the cum from my throbbing cunt. He devoured me like a starving mutt. After a few minutes he was given the orders to now fuck me. “Yes Sir” came the reply as he thrust his pulsating cock into my cum-dripping pussy. I heard the click of a camera. He fucked me for only a few minutes before he asked my boyfriend if he could cum in me. He said yes. His legs twitched and I heard him grunt as he came deep inside my pussy.
I felt his body lift off of me and his dripping, soft cock slide out of my hole. My boyfriend told him he could leave now and I heard him exit the room and go down stairs. I heard the click of the camera once more.
After a moment my boyfriend removed my blindfold. I smiled and thanked him. He leaned over and showed me the pictures on the camera. All I could see were pictures of a strange man in a black ski mask licking and fucking me.
For her birthday, I gave my girlfriend a book of love coupons. I had seen them in stores, but most of them were either too tame or too cheesy, so I decided to make my own. Some were simple and sweet, offering shoulder rubs after long days at work or a romantic dinner. Others were slightly naughtier. The final one, the dirtiest one, was my personal favorite. For one night, I would be her sex slave. She could have anything she wanted, and I could not say no. No rules. No refusals. She smiled and giggled as she flipped through the book, taking time to read each one. The sweet ones were often met with an “aww,” while the sexy ones were usually met with an “oooo.” When she reached the final one, my heart started racing in anticipation of what she would think. Would she love it? Would she hate it? Was it too much? I got my answer when she smiled. Her cheeks blushed bright red, and she bit her lower lip.
“This could be fun,” she said, and she thanked me for the gift. She didn’t say much else, but I could tell just by looking in her eyes that the wheels were already turning.
Fast forward a few weeks. I had almost completely forgotten about the coupon as we came home that Friday night. We’d caught a movie and enjoyed a late dinner, which was rare for us due to our busy schedules. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, and as we made it to the bedroom to settle down for the night, I remarked that we should to this more often.
“You’re right,” she replied as she shut the bedroom door and kicked off her heels. “Tonight was fun, but it’s not over yet.”
The words had just left her mouth as she locked the door. She turned to face me and lowered her purse from her shoulder. I watched her dig around inside for a minute, wondering what she was up to. Finally, she pulled out a small piece of paper and held it up. There was writing on it, and while I couldn’t make it all out, I could clearly see the words “SEX SLAVE” printed across the top. She put her hand on her hip and grinned at me.
“I’m cashing in.”
Per the stipulation, I could not refuse, not that I wanted to. I felt my eyes grow wide, and I stretched out my arms to grab her, but she put her hand to my chest to stop me.
“Uh-uh,” she chided. “Not tonight. Tonight, you have to do what I say. No questions, understand?”
I nodded eagerly. I had no idea what she had in store for me that night. She reached back into her purse and pulled out what appeared to be a small black cloth. She handed it to me, and as I unfolded it, I realized it was a blindfold. She informed me that she was going to the bathroom to prepare, and when she returned, I was to be wearing nothing but the blindfold. As soon as the bathroom door clicked behind her, I quickly stripped, throwing each article of clothing wherever I pleased. I almost lost the blindfold in the excitement, but I found it and subsequently slid the smooth fabric over my eyes. I didn’t know when or what I would see next. I stood there, blind, naked, waiting. It may have only been seconds, but it felt so much longer.
I jumped when I heard the bathroom door open. I could only imagine her as she came closer. I jumped again when she touched my chest. She rubbed lightly down to my stomach and back again, her fingernails grazing over my skin. Her hand made its way to my shoulder before she walked it down my arm to my hand. I was enjoying her touch when I felt the cold steel ring on my wrist. I barely had enough time to react before she clicked it shut. It wasn’t so tight that it hurt, but there was no leeway. The coolness of the metal touching me sent goose bumps all over my body as she walked behind me. She grabbed my other wrist violently and did the same. My hands were immobilized behind me, directly above the small of my back. The chain connecting the cuffs was so short that I could not maneuver my hands, and if there were any kind of safety latch on them, I could not reach it.
I liked where this was going. I knew she would have something a little kinky in mind, but I had no idea what would follow. As I stood there, still getting used to my new restraints, I felt her hand come up from behind me and stroke the side of my face. I turned my face to put my lips on her fingers. She put her finger on my bottom lip and gently opened my mouth further. I tried to kiss, to bite, but she had other plans. While her left hand distracted me, her right hand forced a plastic ring into my mouth. It was about the size of the top of a soda can and kept my jaw stretched as far as it could go. I could fit my tongue through it, and I tried to speak, but everything came out as a garbled mess as she pulled the straps attached to each side of the ring tight and fastened them behind my head.
I could not see, I could not move my hands, and now, I could not speak. My intrigue had turned into excitement, but now it bordered on a mild panic. My heart was beating faster, my hands were sweating, and my breath moved faster through the plastic ring. “What else was she planning?” I wondered. She rubbed her hands on my chest once more, massaging each pectoral muscle. I moaned with pleasure, and I could imagine her smiling with satisfaction. I was disappointed when she stopped. The next thing I felt was what I assumed to be a clothespin clamp down on my left nipple. I grunted as she let it hang, but I did not have time to focus as she placed another on the right one.
The pain felt good. I liked the pain. She must have known it as she grabbed my balls. There were more clothespins. I winced a little as she put one on. Then another. Then another. I think there were 10 in all, 5 on each side. I stood before my brunette beauty blindfolded, handcuffed, gagged, and with clothespins hanging from my nipples and testicles. Then, for the first time since she emerged, she spoke. She came close and whispered one word in my ear:
I slowly dropped to my knees, careful not to disturb any of the wooden clamps attached to my body. I could hear them click together as I moved. She pushed my head lower to the ground to the point that my nose was almost touching the floor. I felt something run over my legs, my ass, my bound arms, and my back. From what I could tell, it was leather and firm, so I figured it was a whip or a crop. I was proven right when she placed it under my chin and lifted my head back up. She rubbed it over my cheeks before moving it above the center of my shoulder blades. She gave me a swift shot and spoke again.
I stuck my tongue out as far as it would go through the ring. She used the crop again, this time a little bit harder. I could hear the smack on my skin.
She put her big toe square on my outstretched tongue. I did as she commanded and ran it from the base to the tip of her toe. Apparently, this was not good enough, and she delivered a hard shot to my left butt cheek. I moaned.
“Don’t stop until I tell you to.”
She placed her toe in the previous spot, and I did as I had before. I followed by licking each toe up and down from right to left and back again. I did this several times before she switched feet, but not before she swatted me with the crop again. Sometimes she wanted me to move fast between each toe, while other times she would hold one toe firmly against my tongue, letting the taste sink in. She pulled my hair and lifted my head up so that I was facing forward again. She wanted me to do the same to her whole foot. I ran my tongue from her heel, across her sole, and to the tips of her toes. I did this to her right foot, then her left, then her right again. I continued worshiping her sweaty feet until she was satisfied.
It was difficult to concentrate on my task. Not being able to see was disorienting, and she made it hard to think. If I moved too fast or too slow, or if she just felt like it, she would use the riding crop again. She changed her target from my back to my face to my chest to my shoulders to my hips to my buttocks to my thighs at will. The clothespins were really starting to take their toll. The initial pain and shock had subsided, but the pain was beginning to seep through the numbness. My chest and groin began to twitch. I wanted her to take them off, but there was no way to let her know.
She must have started to notice because as the thoughts were running through my mind, she pulled her foot from my mouth. I heard her crouch or kneel beside me. I could feel her breath in my ear. She said that I had done well and asked if I wanted the clothespins removed. I nodded and grunted out “uh-huh.” I was drooling. She said that she would take them off, but first I had to earn it. With that, she pushed my head back down to the floor.
I felt leather on my back again, but it wasn’t one piece. It was several strips, and I experienced each one as she dragged them down my spine and gently brushed them on my ass. I knew what was about to follow. I knew the impact was coming. I tried to brace myself as well as possible but to no avail. The first strike hit both cheeks will full force. It stung like a hundred needles on my skin. I waited for the next swing, but instead I felt her hand reach between my legs. She grabbed one of the clothespins and slowly squeezed it open, removing it from my scrotum. The release was simultaneously excruciating and wonderful. I quickly worked out her game. Each removal would cost one lash.
She proved me right as she whipped me again and then removed the second clothespin. I held my own as she cracked the whip a third and fourth time. I did not dare show any sign of weakness for fear of what she would do. By the time the whip came down a fifth time, the pain was nigh unbearable. The spots where the clothespins had once been attached were still aching, and there were still more to go. The whip came down a sixth time, and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I gave in. I let out a groan of pain and clenched my fists.
Mistake. I knew she was going to get me for that, but I was surprised as she reached for the clothespins again. But she didn’t open it. Instead, she pulled it as far as it would go, taking my skin with it, until it finally slid off and snapped. I jumped and let out a long, loud groan. It hurt, but I had the feeling she was enjoying it. I had to stay strong. I couldn’t let her do it again. I was determined to stay silent, but when the seventh came, I moaned again. She did exactly what she had done before. I tried again and failed on the eighth swing. She struck a ninth time, and I tried to hold it in. I tried to think about anything else to distract myself until the initial sting wore off. My strategy worked, and she gingerly removed the second-to-last clothespin. Only one more to go.
I knew she would put everything she had into this last strike. As she teased me by dusting it over my body, I imagined the cocky grin on her face. I had to wipe it away. When she pulled it away, my muscled clenched. I closed my eyes tight underneath the blindfold and dug my teeth into the plastic ring. I waited. And waited. And waited. The leather came down a final time with great force, and all my preparations were for naught. I let out a mighty moan, and before I could finish, she ripped away the final clothespin. She let me sit there in my agony.
When I finally stopped groaning, she helped me to my feet. The clothespins were still attached to my nipples. She wasn’t done yet. I was a bit surprised when she asked me if I had enjoyed the night so far. I didn’t know how to respond, so I stayed silent. She said that I had been pretty good so far, so I deserved a reward. As she spoke, I felt her hand cup my still burning balls. She took my cock in her other hand and slowly began to stroke it. I had made it through the pain, and now it was time for pleasure.
I twitched and grew bigger in her hand as she pulled faster. I felt her lips press softly against my stomach, my waist, then up and down the shaft. She moved lower and gently kissed every spot that still bore the marks of the clothespins that once hung there. She blew on the marks and on the tip. I wanted her to take my now full erection into her mouth, but I was denied. She continued to kiss, to stroke, to blow, to tease. I was already secreting pre-cum, and she was rubbing it all over my cock. She snickered, asked if I was excited, and gathered some from my tip with her finger. Without warning, she put that same finger in my mouth and dragged it across my tongue. I almost gagged.
She kept her fun going as she grabbed me by my manhood and led me across the room. After a few steps, I could feel the edge of the bed with my knees. She leaned back on the bed and rubbed her thighs against mine. With her hand, she guided my cock closer. It brushed against her clit before it entered her warm, moist pussy. She sighed with content as I entered her.
I pulled back as far as I could without exiting completely and thrust. She moaned. I did it again, harder. She moaned again, louder. I slammed into her as hard as I could. She almost screamed. I did the best I could, given my restrictions. I had never had sex with anyone standing up before, much less like this. I could not see or brace myself. I had to rely solely on my pelvic muscles to please her. I pumped faster. The sound of our flesh smacking grew louder.
I could only imagine her lying before me. I could almost see her face, eyes closed and mouth open wide to let out sounds of ecstasy. I could envision her breasts sliding back and forth as I penetrated her over and over. She moaned and groaned, splicing in a few words here and there. I don’t remember what they were. I felt her fingernails graze me as she rubbed her clit. She was really getting into it, which only motivated me more. I could feel it. I was getting close, and so was she. I let out moans of my own and gave a final cry as I came. It felt so wonderful. I expected the same from her. Then, she would release me, and we would hold each other for the rest of the night. I was surprised when I heard a sigh of frustration.
With those words, she twisted and yanked the clothespins from my nipples. I screamed through my gag. The shock and pain forced me to one knee. She finished the job and pushed me down to both. She tapped the side of my face until I stuck my tongue back out. She rested the backs of her knees on my shoulders and crossed her ankles. One word:
I put my tongue to her already tender clit and began to flick. I ran over every part of it with both sides of my tongue. I licked her slowly, starting at the opening of her pussy. Her natural sweetness was mixed with my own cum, but I did not mind. I ate her as intensely as I could. I wanted her to come. She wrapped her legs around my head and squeezed tightly. There was no give. All I could smell or taste was her. She began to shake. She screamed. She pulled me close. She came in my mouth. She relaxed. Her legs fell.
I waited for her to catch her breath. My wrists and jaw were sore, and my mind was yelling to be released. I was relieved when she pulled the blindfold off. I squinted as the light hit my eyes for the first time in what felt like hours. I expected to see her happy, tired face looking back at me. Instead, I saw myself. She was holding a mirror up to my face. I finally saw the plastic ring that held my mouth open. My lips and tongue were stained with saliva and cum from the both of us. I looked up and saw her smiling devilishly back at me. She had made me her slave.
I liked being her slave.
I wanted more.